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Winter's shackles were slowly beginning to break. Despite efforts of his bloody family, the force of the light and his fire could not be contained. The Sun's light was heating the atmosphere and the turn of the planet on its axis was whirling the orb closer and closer. Snow was melting. The breeze on the wind was not as biting, and even the snowfall in this miserable desert of ice was held at bay, for once. Golden orbs observed this with a gleeful satisfaction and held his neck high, tossing snow from one of his smoking wings.
The two, twisted horns that ran from his brow served as his glorious grown, and he shook his figure, beginning his short trek south back to the Veins. Frostfall was failing, and he would resume his place rightful place as the fire king of Helovia. No darkness of his sister nor protest of his earthen brother would deny him his rights, not when he held the only means for the survival of the mortals and the growth of the lands that they had created.
Cloven hoof prints dotted the landscape and smoked in his wake, hissing with every step. The fire along his mane and wings began to burn brightly again, a beacon of hope for some and horror for others. Perhaps he would be able to grant his loyal servant, Keahi, the rest of her magic as he had promised so that she could now attack the Qian. Oh, he knew his sister's little secrets and her betrayal to the mortals. Mirage's little band worshiped her, and she favored them over her promise to the Frosty Lord, Mauja.
Now he could use that against her.
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Winter's Prison [Gods/Open]
