Claire opened her eyes she was met with the most breathtaking sight she had ever seen.

For a moment she believed she was standing on the very top of the world with all its wonders splayed at her feet. To the north a sea of snow capped trees spread for miles before disappearing into the horizon, to the south was a white expanse of open, snow covered plains, and to the east a column of white thrust upwards from the earth like a bone protruding through the skin, piercing the clouds that hung heavy and foreboding around its peak.

"What is that place?" Claire asked, pointing towards the tower. It felt familiar for some reason, but Claire was having a hard time recalling why.

"That is the Tower of Irajas," Alek said as he came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. He let his chin fall to rest against the top of her head. "It's been sealed off since before I was born, since before my father was born even. The way the stories go, a grandmaster magician named Sicarus built it. He lived there and would grant a single wish to anyone who could make it up all forty floors to the top."

"What sort of wish?" Claire asked, settling against him.

Her fingers played absently with the soft linen of his shirt sleeve. "Why was it so hard to get to the top?"

"Whatever your heart desired," Alek replied. "As for the floors, each bears a some sort of trial that needs to be passed. There are other rumors that say he was incredibly wealthy and that his amassed fortune is hidden within the tower. Some people claim it is a vault that has powerful weapons locked away inside."

"Did anyone ever make it?" Claire looked towards him

"Not that I know of," Alek replied with a shrug, "but that isn't to say people never tried. I don't think I've ever met anyone who has gone into the tower."

Claire nodded and looked back out towards the sweeping horizon. With Alek at her back and the entire world at her feet, Claire felt as though she could go anywhere, as if she could do anything. If only that were true, she would have captured that very moment and kept it tucked away.

Closing her eyes, Claire focused solely on the steady, rise and fall of Alek's chest, on the rhythmic beating of his heart, and the way his arms held her so close.

It felt, for just a moment, as though they were one.

How could she leave this, leave him, behind?

All her life she felt adrift, like a leaf caught on the current and here, now, she finally felt like she belonged.

"You have to go back," Alek whispered, his words breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over them.

If she hadn't known better, she would have thought he had plucked the thought straight from her head. She knew, however, that the future, their future, weighed as heavily on his heart as it did on hers.

Claire opened her eyes and stared out, beyond the horizon, to places unknown. "I know," she said quietly, her arms rising to encircle his own, her fingers entwining with his where they rested against her. "Promise me something, Alek."

"Anything," he murmured and she felt his head come to rest in the curve of her neck. Each time he exhaled, she could feel his warm breath as it rolled across her skin.

"Promise me that you'll try to be happy," she said at last, resolving to do the same, somehow, for his sake if nothing else.

"Impossible," he insisted, his voice slightly muffled.

"Please, Alek," Claire said, trying not to sound as exasperated as she felt by his stubbornness.

She felt him sigh, his arms tightening around her. He was quiet and still for a long time. Claire struggled with the silence, afraid to break it, but scared of what remained unspoken.

"I'll try," he said at last and Claire relaxed with a soft sigh of her own. Try was the most she could hope for given the circumstances. "I'm going to find a way to bring you back to me, Claire."

"I know," Claire replied, closing her eyes again.

She didn't doubt his sincerity, or his ability, but she did doubt the success of such a venture.

Of course, she kept such thoughts to herself.

That evening they gathered in the open courtyard, a sea of stars hanging overhead, glittering like jewels against a black velvet sky.

Claire, Alek and Draz along with a handful of other fae elite sat on a raised platform overlooking those who had come to witness the restoration of Oria's rightful heir.

The dress Claire wore had been made especially for her, the fabric spun from a special kind of silkworm that lived in small pockets throughout the winter forest. It had been dyed a brilliant shade of yellow which faded into deep russet tones towards the hem of the skirt and long, draping sleeves.

Despite the lightweight of the fabric, which fluttered in the light breeze, Claire felt no chill from the cool evening. On either side of her sat Draz and Alek respectively, both dressed in customary fae attire. Where Alek looked comfortable and at ease in his finery, Draz kept shifting and fidgeting, tugging at the high collar of his shirt and the hem of his fitted tunic which Elysia had insisted he keep buttoned.

Soft, ethereal music filled the air and they all turned their attention towards the far end of the courtyard where a procession lead by Queen Elysia herself began the short, but slow walk down the empty aisle.

No one spoke, not even a whisper, as she passed them by.

In her hands, resting on a pillow of dark blue satin, was the nutcracker. It seemed like years, not weeks, had passed since that fateful night when Alek had swept into her life and turn it upside down.

Claire glanced towards him, his expression reflected the joy and relief his heart must feel to finally see this leg of his mission completed.

She was happy for him of course, how could she not be?

She smiled and reached out to take his hand his hers. He looked at her then, his eyes filled with a mixture of joy and sadness that made her heart ache.

Alek tangled his fingers through hers and squeezed gently.

No words were needed to know what the other was thinking, nor were they needed to offer what little comfort there was given the circumstances.

As the music faded Claire turned back towards the courtyard.

Elysia had stopped at the base of the platform and turned to face the crowd. It was then that Claire noticed the intricate patterns that criss crossed across the carefully laid stones at Elysia's feet.

"Until recently, we have always lived in peace with the humans who call Oria home," she began. "It wasn't until their king was struck down by his own flesh and blood, and our treaties broken, that we raised our defenses and hid ourselves away from the corruption, away from the oppressive darkness that had begun to spread."

There was a quiet murmur flowing through the crowd.

"My brother, Jarrah, did not agree with my actions and to that end he betrayed not only me, but his people as well. I have seen things in my dreams, dark and terrible things, a future were none survive the evils that are coming. Jarrah did not listen, he failed to understand that if we stand by and allow the human kingdoms to fall, we will find ourselves at the mercy of an enemy we cannot defeat," Elysia continued, her voice growing louder.

"The time has come to stop hiding. Twenty five years ago I cast a spell, a spell to save a prince, the true heir to the human throne. In an effort to further protect him from those that would do him harm, he was secreted away, his location hidden, even to us."

Elysia removed the nutcracker from the pillow and stepped forward. She set it down before her, placing it in the center of a circle around which the other fae had now gathered. "Like us, he will be hidden no longer."

Stepping back, Elysia brought her hands together in front of her.

Between her fingers a blue light began to glow, pulsating slowly. As she pulled her hands apart, the light grew brighter, shifting and spinning between her palms. After several seconds, Elysia brought her hands back together in a sharp clap that sent a shower of sparks flying every direction.

The patterns on the ground began to glow as the fae gathered around circle knelt down and pressed their palms against the cold stones.

They were chanting something that Claire did not understand and as they chanted, a soft tapping sound rose up over the collective voices as the nutcracker began to move. It bobbled one way, then the other, teetering on the edge of its feet, but never toppling over. Its movements were slow at first, but grew faster and more insistent as seconds ticked by.

When the glowing reached the very center where the nutcracker was rocking and spinning wildly, it went still before it too began to glow. As the lights traveled across the seams of its worn, wooden surface Claire realized it was growing as well. One foot, then two feet, then three feet, until it reached the height of a full grown man.

A groaning, splintering sound erupted from the circle causing the fae to take a step back. The arms pushed outward, the head turned painfully slow as what looked like bits of wood began peeling away.

The bright white glow grew more intense as well, eventually engulfing the entire figure making it impossible to see what was happening. They could all still hear it though and Claire was reminded of the sound trees made when they were being pushed to their limit by the strong winds and heavy rains of a winter storm.

Then the light was gone, blinking out as though someone had flipped the switch or cut the power. Claire blinked away the spots that danced before her eyes and turned her attention towards the center of the courtyard.

He was difficult to see at first, the darkness seeming to have enclosed all around him, but after a few seconds Claire made out the huddling form of a young man dressed in the tattered remains of what she imagined had once been quite fine clothing. He remained still as stone, as did everyone else.

Even Elysia looked uncertain as she slowly approached the immobile figure.

"Your highness? Prince Rollan?" she questioned, placing her hand lightly on his shoulder.

He moved then, pulling away from her. "Where am I?"

His voice was rough, gravelly from years of disuse.

"You're in the Winter Wood," Elysia said, "you've been asleep for... quite a while."

"How long?" he asked, lifting his head at last. "How long have I been gone?"

"Twenty-five years," Elysia said quietly.

Rollan fell back, sitting hard on the ground.

From her position on the platform, Claire could make out the expression of disbelief that had stolen its way across his face. There was pain there as well, an anguish that came only on the heels of great loss. Claire couldn't imagine how it would make her feel if someone told her she had lost twenty-five years worth of time.

Elysia motioned for several of the fae standing by to approach. They did so with obvious caution. "Take him to the rooms that were prepared, see that he gets anything he needs and that he is not disturbed," she instructed before turning her attention back to the prince who had not moved again since he last spoke. "It will take time, your highness, but I assure you that you will feel like your old self again soon."

This time, when the fae reached out, the prince did not pull away as he had with Elysia. They carefully helped him to his feet while the rest gathered there watched in silence. He stood slowly, staggering the first step or two before managed to get his bearings. As the trio passed the platform, the prince supported on either side by the fae, the young man looked up.

For a brief moment his eyes met with Claire's and she was taken aback by the anger she saw there. It wasn't at all what she had expected, though strangely enough she understood where it was coming from.

Just what had he thought would happen when he agreed to go into hiding, if he had agreed at all? How would she feel knowing she had lost so much time? As he turned away, disappearing inside, Claire was left with a dozen questions she would likely never get answers to.

It wasn't her place, after all, to question a prince.