Mauja the FrostHeart
ice cold man watches earth die, eternal winter takes its reign

He felt calmer now - clearer, as if someone had blown the fog out of his mind. It still lingered here in his home though, thick upon the floor like a carpet. Water droplets clung to his legs as he waded through the familiar substance, and on such a night as this, his entire being seemed to shimmer with an ethereal quality. The ice crystals upon his horn glittered in the cold light of his beloved moon, and so did his wet legs, each droplet catching the light and refracting it. Pale white the wraith-like King glided through his thirsty forest, listening to their pleas, their whispers of pain and need. He was powerless, though, incapable of healing his own land, and these dark thoughts hung heavy on his mind. The land was drying up, consumed by fire, and all of it because of a rampaging God.

There was nothing that Mauja alone could do about it, but something had to be done. Could any mortal fight a God? Or would they need to strengthen the worship for the Earth and Moon in order to leash the rogue Sun? These were answers the King did not possess, and it frustrated him. The Moon had come to him once, here at the very Edge of things, but that had been before the fall of the Throat, before the madness her brother spread across their lands. Why could she not come again, and tell him what was needed? Mauja gave a harsh laugh, alone in the dark forest, and shook his crowned head. The laziness of mortals, always expecting someone to serve them solutions on a silver platter! He had a notion they'd have to fight long and hard to wrestle their lands and lives from the Sun's greedy hooves, and with little guidance but the dark passion in their hearts.

With his horn pointing at the starstrewn sky he lifted his head, proud; he would wear the moon upon his horn and in his heart, and surely it'd work out, somehow. He didn't like not being in control of things, but it was hard to control Gods. Perhaps this was one of the times that there was no grand master plan to create, no scheme that could make sense of things - perhaps this was one of the few times when even Mauja would admit that following your heart and just doing what feels right is the best thing. Perhaps. He wasn't entirely sure yet, but the world was no longer blurry and diffuse. It was cool and clear like crystal, and Mauja knew that what he thought was truth; this battle would be long and bloody, and it would be so very painful. He had never been ravaged by fire, but could not imagine that it was pleasant (otherwise, Helovians would bathe in the Heart, no?). Pain was the thing they had to endure in order to overcome.

It wasn't the most hopeful of prospects, but reality was seldom easy and simple.

( open for anyone! ^^ )