Post by watcherswillreturn on Jul 3, 2013 0:10:40 GMT -5
March 18, 21 CLE
Why did we give ourselves? For power? For release?
Slow footsteps, faint as well as distant, echoed the hallways. The silence between them ebbed with the distant ring that each step took on the ice laden floor. The details of patterned floor was distorted, blurring underneath a shell of ice.
The history of this place was banished from every Freljordian’s memory. . . A castle did not exist to the world, nor anyone would be alive to enlighten anyone of its discovery. The proof lied in the surrounding…figurines of dark shaded ice remained where they were years ago. Servants, nobles, guard...their postures and lifelike poses, even the expression on their faces, would say that they were being encased by this ice while still alive. This curse did not effect its visitor…It welcomed her, for she had some part of its creation.
The last footstep rang in a shrilling echo as she stopped walking. There was a wall in front of her where the path was divided between her left and right. However, the dark frigid figure gazed hard at the wall…where a relief of colored never-melt ice, décor the wall. It depicted a family..a man, a woman, and three girls that seem to clutter between the two in front. The man had his hand on the one of the sister’s shoulder. The woman had a shine in her smile and the girls below had inherited her beauty.
Come on, you’re too tall Avari!
No, I wanted to be in front!
“You two can stand in front of me. I’m taller…” A feminine voice interrupted the unspoken argument, from the dark being of the Ice Witch. Her helmet split with a sharp, abrupt crack. It felt away in two parts, shattering collided with the floor. Her white hair cascaded loosely, unbound from her usual plait and with strands white in bundles, but crystalline that were sheer as frost along her skin. Her tri-color eyes, from purple to icy blue, stared at the sculpture for some time, before she turned towards the one of the hallways. The door of the family library was left open. .Lissandra stopped, looking at a particular corner. A book and an frozen rose was still there. With a smirk on her face, she moved on.
Her walk took an unusual detour down the spiraling staircase into a very large room. The audience chamber was bigger than anything seen in Rakestake. It had to be, as it accommodated many among Freijord that were under the rule of this castle. The iceborn stood there, in the middle of the stairway. Her eyes closed slightly, trying to blot out the memory in this chamber. It failed…
Her eyes blinked open, upon hearing the voices of the ceremony. She could see the massive crowd standing in a mass before the dais where the king and queen stood. The voice of their king blurred in words, as she could not hear them clearly before. She remember being here...in her own hand, where a crystal shining with seer’s energy. The object brought doubt about her father, but she trusted her father, believe in him until one day. Though most of the ceremony was a blur, the queen presented one of girls with a very powerful artifact…a bow of true ice. The other received a mace of sorts.
The seer’s vision warped itself into her head again…How the world would break apart by the warring of three. Three…Us…She did not want to believe her sisters would fight her, but the artifacts given to her sisters were part of the vision. I did not want this to happen . . .I wanted to rule together with her sisters. How dare him?! I’m helpless against this. Why did he choose them over me? Why should one gain rule over Freljord on the blood of kin?
There must be a way for us to stay together…
Her recollection broke into dead silence, breaking her reverie. Lissandra opened her eyes…The audience room was back to its desolated frozen state.
Empty…cold…remorseless. She walked into the audience chamber, unto the dais. Her hand touched the arm rest of the throne, expecting something...however, what was unspoken.
Why did we give ourselves? For power? For release?
Slow footsteps, faint as well as distant, echoed the hallways. The silence between them ebbed with the distant ring that each step took on the ice laden floor. The details of patterned floor was distorted, blurring underneath a shell of ice.
The history of this place was banished from every Freljordian’s memory. . . A castle did not exist to the world, nor anyone would be alive to enlighten anyone of its discovery. The proof lied in the surrounding…figurines of dark shaded ice remained where they were years ago. Servants, nobles, guard...their postures and lifelike poses, even the expression on their faces, would say that they were being encased by this ice while still alive. This curse did not effect its visitor…It welcomed her, for she had some part of its creation.
The last footstep rang in a shrilling echo as she stopped walking. There was a wall in front of her where the path was divided between her left and right. However, the dark frigid figure gazed hard at the wall…where a relief of colored never-melt ice, décor the wall. It depicted a family..a man, a woman, and three girls that seem to clutter between the two in front. The man had his hand on the one of the sister’s shoulder. The woman had a shine in her smile and the girls below had inherited her beauty.
Come on, you’re too tall Avari!
No, I wanted to be in front!
“You two can stand in front of me. I’m taller…” A feminine voice interrupted the unspoken argument, from the dark being of the Ice Witch. Her helmet split with a sharp, abrupt crack. It felt away in two parts, shattering collided with the floor. Her white hair cascaded loosely, unbound from her usual plait and with strands white in bundles, but crystalline that were sheer as frost along her skin. Her tri-color eyes, from purple to icy blue, stared at the sculpture for some time, before she turned towards the one of the hallways. The door of the family library was left open. .Lissandra stopped, looking at a particular corner. A book and an frozen rose was still there. With a smirk on her face, she moved on.
Her walk took an unusual detour down the spiraling staircase into a very large room. The audience chamber was bigger than anything seen in Rakestake. It had to be, as it accommodated many among Freijord that were under the rule of this castle. The iceborn stood there, in the middle of the stairway. Her eyes closed slightly, trying to blot out the memory in this chamber. It failed…
Her eyes blinked open, upon hearing the voices of the ceremony. She could see the massive crowd standing in a mass before the dais where the king and queen stood. The voice of their king blurred in words, as she could not hear them clearly before. She remember being here...in her own hand, where a crystal shining with seer’s energy. The object brought doubt about her father, but she trusted her father, believe in him until one day. Though most of the ceremony was a blur, the queen presented one of girls with a very powerful artifact…a bow of true ice. The other received a mace of sorts.
The seer’s vision warped itself into her head again…How the world would break apart by the warring of three. Three…Us…She did not want to believe her sisters would fight her, but the artifacts given to her sisters were part of the vision. I did not want this to happen . . .I wanted to rule together with her sisters. How dare him?! I’m helpless against this. Why did he choose them over me? Why should one gain rule over Freljord on the blood of kin?
There must be a way for us to stay together…
Her recollection broke into dead silence, breaking her reverie. Lissandra opened her eyes…The audience room was back to its desolated frozen state.
Empty…cold…remorseless. She walked into the audience chamber, unto the dais. Her hand touched the arm rest of the throne, expecting something...however, what was unspoken.
