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A beam of light surged from the Ahrensbach castle, piercing the night sky with power, like a mana blade tearing through the flesh of a giant darkness feybeast. The only thing it could have been described as was the beam of a rott, the call for emergency. However, this spell was infinitely larger than any rott and glowed with the strength of the seven divine colors. It was claiming the attention of every living thing, making them stop in their tracks to gaze upward in awe. The soldiers dropped their weapons, the feybeasts were peeking out of their lairs, the night birds were snuggling their prey.
A common intuition engraved in their instinct for survival whispered in their ears.
Do not look away.
More than emergency, the commanding light seemed to be calling for the end of the world.
Listen and behold.
A tremor arose from deep under the ground as the beam grew so large it now swallowed the entire castle. The very foundation of the greater duchy of Ahrensbach was quaking, waking up the citizens in fear. The adults were screaming and the children were crying as they flooded the streets, dreading the old and weak upper stories made of wood would not withstand the intense earth shake and bury them all.
The nobles mounted their highbeasts to take to the sky, abandoning their commoner servants to their own devices. But the wind had picked up making it almost impossible to safely ride without being rattled here and about, forcing them back down.
The trees were torn from the ground, their roots still clinging to the dirt, and carried in a mad dance with the most reckless riders still in the air. The blue capes flapping wildly behind them like war flags in a storm indicated they were knights from Dunkelfunger. But among them, a few ocre capes stood out, braving the dangerous winds.
One in particular seemed to be animated with a purpose, dodging the trees and other obstacles to get closer to the castle, a name singing in his head with the drumming of his heart: Rozemyne, Rozemyne, Rozemyne…
The Ehrenfest knight knew the disrespect of thinking about his lady like so but the older brother in him could not help but be deadly worried for his little sister. Cornelius was tethering the fine line of sanity and madness. The reigns of his highbeast trapped in the visceral grip of his hands, his eyes never shifted from his goal of protecting Rozemyne. This was his one and only objective. It has been since that night, years ago, when his failure had almost cost him her life.
I have to get to her, I have to protect her, the valiant knight persisted. He refused to give up until they were reunited. In this life or the next. In the depth of his heart, he vowed. But the goddess of wind was unsettled, making it difficult to navigate the violent gales and her subordinates were readying themselves for battle.
Schutzeria, Schutzeria, maiden of the mighty shield, what horror did your swiftest servants see crawling from the womb of your sister Earth? The sound of the heavy hooves of Leidenschaft horses erupted from the warm southern lands, fast approaching.
The brutal crackling of thunder whipped through the sky followed by the flash of lightning striking down around the imposing tower of light. It was Verdrenna unleashing her roaring authorities against the unnatural foe she felt awakening in the bowels of Ahrensbach castle. She recognized his icy fingers digging through the cracks of a broken heart, reaching for the surface. And with retributive fury, the subordinate of water released her bolts towards the vile enemy.
The spectacle of such titanic powers sent the children of man into a frenzy. Many threw themselves on the ground, praying desperately for the eternal gods to ease their anger. Their phrasing was unrefined, the words sewn together like a last minute bead necklace. Like the still awkward lace work of a young apprentice lehange. The names of the gods left the unpracticed lips in confused syllables, scattering away in the condensation of their breath as the air grew colder.
But their supplications were left unanswered for this calamity was entirely man made. Or rather, girl made. One girl pulled a string and death flowers blew. Another wished for a lone feystone and found a man breathing still. The last girl trod the path of kingship to save her loved one and failed. When she arrived at his side at last, his feet had long since climbed the towering stairway.
Flutrane, Flutrane, Goddess of flowing water, wherever have you gone? You must thaw the starving ice eating away at the girl’s pain before it is too late. Like a snake, it slithered through the cracks of her broken heart and whispered songs of revenge. But your stream has stilled, your springs have been deserted and the sacred hymns have died, swallowed along with her tears and blasphemies.
“Accursed gods!”, the girl had raged. “What use do I have of your blessings and mana, now that he’s dead!?”, she lamented, atop the frigid body of a man with light blue hair. On the cold floor of the castle’s heart, she wept.
But her wrathful curses did not fall on deaf ears, alas. Sealed beneath the country wide magic circle, the fallen god was listening. At her words, he lifted his head resting on a crimson pillow and paid attention. For he saw in the vengeful maiden, the same pain he suffers every spring, when the superior gods come to tear his love away from him.
No matter, he thought with a derisive chuckle. The time has come, my dear, and with a flick of his wrist the world fell silent.
The tower of light disappeared and the thunder vanished in a whisper. Like a blown out candle flame it went out, the wisps of smoke floating weightless in the air. Outside, the people looked on to the castle, apprehensive. They were holding their breath, afraid to break the fragile silence. They could feel more than they could see the bow of time itself stretching and straining, an arrow nocked on its tightly drawn string. It waited.
A moment later, Geduldh herself seemed to breathe a sigh and a hush fell on Ahrensbach. On her exhale, a thousand spawns of winter silently poured out from the castle, glowing faintly against the dark night. Hordes of spectral feybeasts swarmed the noble quarters, winter storms taking shape. They passed through walls and forests, gliding effortlessly towards the outskirts in a perfect circle. Inexorably, they rode, carrying after them a heavy blanket of snow and ice.
In their steps, the commoners were left frozen before they could even try to escape. Some were caught in prayer, their hands raised towards the silent night sky, supplicating for crumbs of grace. Others, mouths still agape from the shock of the phantom appearances. The knights tried to flee upward, mistakenly believing they could avoid the same fate if they climbed the air. But crystallized mid fly, they fell to their death and the higher they went, the more violent was their undoing, their bodies shattering in million sparkling pieces.
The duchy was enveloped in a heavy layer of haunting pure white. The frost gnawed on the girl’s heart. And as she felt her mana being depleted, a voice called to her. Come to me, daughter who brings eternal winter, my marked child. She fought to stay awake and listen more but slumber was pulling her into its frigid embrace. And before she gave in to it, a mad laugh cutting the inside of her throat like shards, the voice rang louder above all of Ahrenbach.
Hear! Hear! May the cold of snow and ice entomb all things. Until, I am eternally reunited with her warmth.