The Dark Side of Winter

0.1: An Old prophecy

My memory lingers on the temporary quietude that once blanketed the halls of Cantlyn. Though, the eerie stillness use to trickle through much more than the sanded walls of this familiar place, Crounia was once a place of peace, amity and union. For a thousand years. 

It travelled down south to Argenbagne and its mountainous Terrain, to the East Coast of Saufort where the stretch of the Green Sea is endless and silent. And, that long-gone quietude even fell over the Salistonas covert tucked in the west corner of Crounia, undisturbed and barren of anything with a beating heart. 

Although the dry, scorched land was perhaps undesired by even the most humbled Kings and Nobles of distant continents, there was one that had set its icy glaze right upon Crounia and its soulless sandy deserts. 

Eswaria. 

Eswaria was an ancient name hushed amongst those who dared to say it. Banned from any literature, sentence or story, Eswaria was not a place to dwell on with curiosity - especially children. Such laws and regulations were placed for the protection of Crounians, who most likely crowded at night to discuss the implications of an old prophecy.

A prophecy that bespoke of the downfall of Cantlyn and any living being occupying it.  

A prophecy that outlined my own fate with a frost-bound seal.

Wind freezes water, and golden hills are silenced by snow. When the sun fails to rise and the sky turns to ice, a marriage shall bring forth the deaths of a million and the downfall of an empire.