The Other Witch; Living at her Parents

The Spring Palace, as it was known locally at least, was generally considered to be the least of Thalia's numerous homes.  It took up less space, and it was important to note that it also contained less space, than any of her other properties.  However, it was also disproportionately well cared for.  The Gardens, which were easily twice the size of the house itself, were all watered daily, and mowed no less than weekly.  The hedges were trimmed, the trees were pruned, and while the pond at the center of the garden contained a tasteful amount of lily pads, there wasn't a speck of scum to be seen.  Indeed, with the exception of a somewhat rusty bench, the entire garden seemed to be perfectly manicured, as if nothing had changed since Thalia had last visited.  Longer still, thought Salvia, as the Empress of Gravaga no doubt had better things to do than pull weeds and trim hedges.
"That's the Princess's bench.  She used to spend hours reading there.  The Library is the only enchanted room in the whole house, and that's just to connect it to the family library.  Tala didn't give them an awful lot of space.  But she didn't really have to give them any at all, so I dare say they were quite grateful for it."
Liss, the Ghoul, was giving Salvia a full tour of the grounds.  Since she was the caretaker this didn't seem particularly odd, and she was impressively well informed about the living habits of the Gravagan Royal Family.  But then Stormguarde was the City of Immortals, Liss had probably been around since before the Forstbourne war anyways.
"And this is the Patio."  The patio was a little brick area at the back of the house.  It was raised about four half-foot steps from the ground, and was occupied by two rocking chairs.  They were nice rocking chairs, but they struck Salvia as being sort of old-people-y, and not once had Thalia been mentioned as being particularly old, or even inclined towards behaving as though she were.
"It looks...retired."
Liss gave the chairs a longing gaze.  "Yes, I think that was the idea.  Thalia and Hal never really intended to be in the epics business their whole lives, that's what this house was.  The Palaces, the Empire, the Show; those were all for the Universe at large.  But this was their house, just for the two of them, with a garden for her and a study for him.  Would you like to see the kitchen?"
That bit seemed a bit too intimate for a mere maid, but Thalia hadn't really been a private sort of person.  Hal, she assumed, was the nameless husband that was always sort of known to exist, but never actually seen or mentioned publicly.  Everyone knew there was one, princesses didn't happen on their own, but he'd never really been much of a player in the grand stage.  Apparently, he liked to do things that were done in a study.  Salvia imagined a weedy, bald man pouring over tax returns, and decided that there was probably a reason he was never seen.
The Kitchen was lovely, and more loved.  The cabinets were painted a peeling periwinkle.  The fixtures were tarnished silver.  And the refrigerator was being held open by a young woman who seemed to have dyed her hair white at some point, and was now growing it back in as a shade of brown almost exactly two shades more red than Hack's.  
"Miss, there's a visitor here, would you kindly reconcile your dishabille?"
There was a glow of magic, then the woman turned to face her.  "Sorry Liss, not used to company."
The ghoul tittered like a mother hen.  "Well it certainly wouldn't do you any harm to make a habit of getting dressed in the morning, whether there is or isn't company."
"Don't mind her, she just likes telling people what to do."  The woman finally looked Salvia in the eyes.  She had bags under her own, most likely sleep deprivation, although dark magics were known to cause similar effects.  The eyes themselves were nearly bleached white, with only the pupils standing out, and a pale blue iris surrounding it.  Her skin was likewise pale, but unlike the rest of her pale features it seemed natural, judging by the slight tan line at her shoulder, and the presence of scattered freckles.
She held out her hand.  "I'm Salvia Hex, Witch..."
"Errant, yes.  I've heard of you.  Had a bit of a run in with a Lych some years back, it worked out in your favor I believe?"  She paused for a second as she closed the refrigerator.  "Yes, I should think so.  Lych are not prone to mercy, and it seems unlikely you'd have survived had it not worked out."
She was wearing a white robe with little gold stars and purple moons all over it.  It was the sort of thing a mage would wear if they wanted non-magic users to know that they were a mage.  It was gaudy, silly, and didn't work well with her complexion, although Salvia did become much more aware of the woman's roots.  She also, Salvia noticed, wasn't wearing shoes.
"I wasn't alone."  Salvia hadn't been.  The Lych had been her first mission.  The mission really, just a few seemingly unrelated dead witches that she'd been investigating when all of a sudden a fully armored, demi-immortal mage had jumped out of a back alley and tried to kill her.  Father Krell had turned up out of nowhere and just said 'Come now, let's get you somewhere safe'  Then the Lych had charged them.  She'd never really seen him move like that, not even when he'd been teaching her magic.  He'd always held back, whether it was racing, dueling, or casting, he'd never moved so fast.  He caught the Lych from behind and slammed him against the ground before he take a second step.  She'd never been able to repeat his signature spell, but she'd also never seen anyone else use it.  She'd also never seen anyone survive it.  Not even one of  Arcania's dark knights.
"No, but no one ever is.  Liss, leave us please?"  The ghoul curtsied politely and tiptoed out of sight.  "Zeej, you can come out now."  A chill emanated from somewhere behind the woman and a small, ferret-y creature peeked out from behind her shoulder.  Except that it wasn't a ferret, or even a creature, it was made purely of an icy vapor, and the chill seemed to be almost an extension of its being.  Father Krell had told her of Elementals, but she'd never met one like this before.
"What is it?"
"He is the embodiment of a single point of absolute zero.  And his name is, for your purposes anyways, ZeeGee."
Then it clicked.  Liss had called her the Cold Girl.  She was pale with pale features.  And she was accompanied by a powerful frost elemental.  Salvia stepped back, imagining how wide her eyes must be.  She was face to face with the greatest threat to the universe since the Shade Invasion, Arcania, queen of the Frostbourne!
"Oh bother."  Salvia caught herself and looked the villainess over.  She hadn't made any move to attack, or even to defend herself.  She was tired, distracted, and generally out-of-sorts, or at least she would seem to be.  What's more, the only activity that she could be verified to have done in the last thousand or so years was browse the refrigerator.  It may not have been anything she knew of, but Salvia was sure that there had been some form of punishment administered for her past actions, and she was surely observed to prevent future plots.  Simply put, this woman was no more threatening than any other gaudily dressed sandwich bearing mage.
A moment passed.  Arcania sighed and set her sandwich down.  "You're the first person in a thousand years to realize who I was without trying to kill me.  Would you like a sandwich?"
"So you're really the dread frost mage?  I always though you were more...evil."
"That'd be my mother.  I was just spoiled and power mad.  I've...mellowed out over the years."
"Your mother?"  The prospect of history's greatest villain having a mother had not occurred to her.
"My name is Katherine Immersfeld, I am Arcania, and I'm still wondering if you'd like a sandwich?"