The Dark Side of Winter

0: The beginning

A permanent bloodlust swept over the Eastern Universe. Particularly, the set of disjointed continents isolated under one ruler. Some coined it universally as the Severed Realms. One nation continually thrust into a battle for decades, followed by the others; as the thirst for revenge of family was never quite quenched. 

For hundreds of years, there was never a day under the Eastern sun that didn't include bloodshed and turmoil. Reconciliation was never particularly an option either.

But on a particularly humid night in the middle of a four-year-long summer, there was one man who decided to seek a way to end the war for good. By good, he meant forever. No life could flourish under his rule while the enemy wiped out any front-line defence he had left. He was at wit's end, exhausted. 

With no company but himself, he roamed the ruins of his kingdom in the dead of the night - overcome by shame and responsibility. The streets were scarce. Thievery was out of control - scrutinizing eyes watched his every movement. Hunger withered away at people and turned all sense of humanity into wretched murderers.

His objective was short-lived, as the house of an aged outlawed hag emerged from shadows. She lived by herself at the bottom of the city in total isolation.

 Her existence was almost classified as illegal itself; she was a freak of nature - born with unnatural capabilities to see forth in the future. Most people didn't like the future she spoke of, so they expelled her to the outskirts where she resides alone, but not miserable. Mostly content she is.

"Well, well." Drawled out her sharp voice from all four corners of the room. He could not see her- only the mysterious contents dwelling inside her hut. Birds, snakes, critters, teeth (human? he couldn't tell), and toenails. But her words, charged with mysterious intentions, encircled him.

"It is not the first time a King has come here - seeking what? a resolution. Ah, I see. I can already feel the quickness of your heart. Don't be scared, your royal highness. What are you afraid of?"

"Why can I not see you?" He uttered, his hand slowly drifting to his blade at his helm. He was trying to tame the shake. 

"Don't be so quick to judge me as the enemy, Isembard. That is your downfall - your misconstrued judgement. Why should I let you see me? I am here. I am in fact all around you right now. I am in your head. In your veins. In your blood. Can't you feel me?" She wickedly cackled. 

"I don't have time for your games, Ginevra." Isembard hissed the ancient name, his thin lips folding into a scowl. Out of the darkness, stepped a scrawny, curved lady. Her face retained an old beauty, that detracted any attention away from her shrivelled skin.  One that even made Isembard drop his hand from his sword.

Her waist-long red hair followed every slight movement she made - as if a separate entity or power. "Ah, see? All you had to do was sound my name. I am here, Isembard The Fourth. At your command, you might say. Nobody has given me that kind of power in years," she breathed, lowering her subtle gaze on his blue eyes. 

When he didn't reply, as his chest tightened with fear, Ginevra sighed. "It is hard to draw physical power when your sole existence relies on your relevance. I suppose it's been what... nearly a century since I have emerged like this. I don't do it very often, so count yourself lucky." She smiled, taking her place at the table. 

Isembard, concerned, tried to count back a few seconds ago when there was no table - and discovered his feet had almost melded into the floor. Intense fear struck his heart. "How did you do that?" he asked.

"Oh don't be a fool. You know very well how. Your lineage is not short of any ability either. I guess that power has dimmed out for now."

"Anyhow, join me." She gestured to a seat now in front of Isembard. "Let's address the real reason you came here."