Snow White and the Seven Souls
Reunions

It might interest you to know that Ambrose was an old soul. He had been wandering the Earth for centuries before he came across the lovely Queen Yori. And yet in all those years, he had never been hunted, never accused of any crime, and certainly never caught.

Although it is said that vampires have excellent instincts, Ambrose was spoiled by his experiences and lulled into a sense of security by them. Wandering far and wide, he had the luxury of being forgotten long before his return to an area, if he was ever seen at all.

His nonchalance might also have had something to do with his choice of victims. He rarely went for a man’s neck, and since he was so old and spent so much time away from society, he never developed a healthy respect for the damage that a woman could do to him. Especially one who was properly motivated.

Snow, it could be said, was someone he should have been wary of. She never forgot her dear mother even for a day. The night of the ball was burned into her memory for more than one reason. She knew who had killed her mother, and she wanted to find what was left of her.

And so it was that Snow, with her hands romantically laced around Ambrose’s neck, used what powers she had to call to Ambrose with her gaze. She called to her mother, as well. And she called to that part of herself that was within the vampire before her. She drew the dark prince into a kiss, and he closed his eyes. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The moment he did so, the remnants of Dalor, Gaius, Quinn and Sifrod attacked. They stabbed Ambrose through the heart, cut into his legs, and once Snow was clear of him, they slashed his arms into uselessness. Then they held him down as blood gurgled from his mouth.

Snow knelt beside him to speak. “You did not hear their hearts beating, because they no longer do,” she said. And then she bit into the old vampire’s neck, reclaiming what he had stolen from her.

When all was said and done, Snow felt much better. Her minions, as they had been called by the defunct monster, cleaned up the mess and burned Ambrose’s remains downwind from the cabin. They took care to spread some of his ashes into running water, just in case.

Snow almost felt normal. She had within her the parts of her soul that had been trapped by Ambrose. But she was still undead. She was still set apart. And she still had those other trapped souls within her, too. Now she had her mother’s as well, and hundreds more that Ambrose had taken over the many years of his cursed existence. She knew that she could never really be at peace, but she felt fuller and happier than she thought she would.

Such was the enormity of what had transpired that night in the cabin in the woods, Snow gave no further thought to her previous life. She forgot the palace, she forgot her father, she forgot the Queen. And she forgot the huntsman.

Mr. Tredwell, on the other hand, had not forgotten her. Since she had gone cross-country to find her new home, after some hours of searching he found her trail. The smell of smoke confirmed it, and he followed the pungent scent even after it was too dark to see. When he found Snow’s cabin, it was glowing from the fire in the hearth and the candlelight within. Taking note of its location, he withdrew to a safe distance, out of earshot.

Then he took out a small wooden instrument from his breast pocket. He raised it to his lips, and when he blew air through it, the sound of a nightingale emerged. He played the song as long as he dared, and then he waited.

“You found him,” a sweet voice said in the darkness. Mr. Tredwell had fallen asleep despite himself, and he started at the sound.

“Humph. Yes. They’ve set up house not too far from here. Better wait till the household has gone to bed. Do you think they sleep?”

“I hope so. But it doesn’t matter.”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t. Shall we go?”

A blue glow was his answer, as Arandell’s wings became luminescent. “Should be enough for you to see by, if I move ahead of you. I can mute the light as we approach our destination. Which direction should I head in?”

“Up the hill, that way,” the huntsman said, his silhouette pointing to the northeast. Arandell let her wings begin their work, lifting her above the underbrush and towards their destination. She took care to move slowly enough for Mr. Tredwell to follow quietly and in safety.

When they arrived at the cabin, they found that all the candles were out, and only the embers in the fireplace still burned. Arandell set down in front of the house and went in.

“Sifrod...” she whispered. “Sifrod... I’ve come for you.”

There was a stirring in the shadows, and something that was once Sifrod got out of his little bed and shuffled towards the fairy. She stifled a cry at his appearance, and took a breath to settle her nerves. Then, she let her light shine. She let her entire body, wings to fingertips, glow brightly and powerfully. It was the kind of light that you could feel down to your bones. It cooled you and warmed you all at once. It was a healing light.

The signal having been given, six more lights illuminated the cabin. Lights of red, green, yellow, orange, pink, and purple. They filled the cabin with such brilliance that it shone through the cracks in the wooden beams.

Snow White of course awoke amid this disturbance, but she was blinded by the light. Her eyes were too consumed by spirits now to be able to stand it. Mr. Tredwell could barely stand it himself, but he had crept past those four little beds and up the staircase before Arandell had said a word. He was right beside Snow when she awoke, and he ended her life as swiftly and as mercifully as he could. He had planned out how to do it humanely, having slain many an animal that had graced the tables of the palace. That was why the Queen had chosen him, after all.

But Snow was not an animal. She was not a person, either. She was something in between and nothing at all. Well, nothing that should exist in this world. Had she been allowed to go on, she would most certainly have taken innocents again. And that, the huntsman could not allow.

There was good news to be had from this incident, beyond the prevention of further crimes. The fairies were able to help Dalor, Gaius, Quinn and Sifrod to regain their former selves, more or less. Once Snow was gone, their captive souls were released. At Arandell’s insistence, the fairies used their magic to heal the four men.

It took a long time for any of the men to speak again, but eventually they did.

They never spoke of what had happened to them after meeting the changed Snow White, but they were certain to show respect to the fairies for their actions whenever they could.

Sifrod tried to break up with Arandell after a time, but she would not hear of it. He told her that he felt she was too good for him, and that he did not deserve her. She said she deserved to get what she wanted, and what she wanted was to have him by her side.

And there he stayed for the rest of his days.

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