Rebel Land

Prologue

The loud scratching of a quill was the only sound that could be heard in the ice cold room as it's user carefully inscribed instruction after instruction on the necessary details for the tri annual gathering of the tribes.

It had long passed sundown and the tinted glass ceiling that usually let in the light of the day was dark. Instead, little glass lanterns home to small colonies ulumni, little luminescent bugs that gave off blueish lights, lined the wall lighting up the dim office and allowing the Queen and Mother of the Zima Winter tribe to work well into the night.

The matter at hand was urgent. Every three years the tribes of Seasons gathered together to honour and celebrate the alliance between them and the unity they all shared.

Begining with the Summer tribe and ending with the Spring each tribe was required to take turns in hosting the gathering.

This year, it was once again The Zima Winter tribe's honour and privilege to hold it at the great Winter Hall of Crystals. That meant that it was imperative that everything went according to plan.

Ever since her union to her beloved husband, chief of Zima had taken place thirty season cycles ago, Leng had supervised many many gatherings and up held the name of her tribe so usually she would have no cause to worry.

But the last celebration held by the Ruden Fall tribe and organized by their king's newly found mate was grand. The first Prince had showed his versatile skill in organization and honored his beloved making the previously praised efforts of the Zima Queen pale in comparison to his.

Leng gritted her teeth at the thought before exhaling slowly and putting down her quill. Ignoring the silvery ink staining her fingers, she ran her hand through her white hair and leaned back.

A small smile graced her blue lips as she looked around is calm satisfaction. Being in this room always reminded her of her Chief. He had chiseled every piece from ice stone.

Columns of sheer blue ice that held the high ceiling had intricately carved designs running up their sides. The floor was made of white marble, each tile laid by love most true.

Leng sighed wistfully. They were compatible indeed.

Her mind reeled to the times they spent together holding the tribe high.

The tribe. Her heart blossomed like a flower in spring at the thought of them. She had been afraid when she first made her way as queen. But she was welcomed by the Dowger who thought her everything. She instructed her on how to be fair, to listen to her people and the many duties of a Tribe's Mother. It was hard but she quickly earned the love of the people and in turn loved them even more.

Soon their son would be of age and she would welcome his bride in and show her the ways of a Tribe Mother. Her lips widened into a bright toothy smile as a silver laugh escaped. The thought of holding a grandchild was unimaginable. She could picture the look on her husband's face.

"It has been to many season cycles," she whispered softly, "I'm tired".
After this Gathering her husband planned on relinquishing the throne. She couldn't wait from them to spend every day together sharing kisses and love.

Leng leaned back in her chair and looked to the clear glass ceiling. Her blissful expression turned into a frown. The night sky was unusually cloudy. Huge dark clouds blocked and view of the stars beyond them.

How strange. Never in all of her years had she seen skies such as these. Even the moon was nowhere to be found.

Even greatly more disturbing was what Leng saw next. Hurtling from the sky was an object she couldn't name. It continued falling towards the glass at a fast speed.

Leng clenched the arms of the chair as she watched its decent towards her with widen eyes.

As it got closer and closer she could see that it was a person falling forward with a long blade that seemed to be made of fire pointing directly at her.

Her heart rapidly sped in her chest as she attempt to rise before the person made contact to the glass.

A minute to late.

The figure broke through the glass spraying its shards across the room. Raising her hands to protect her face, Leng felt the sharp fragments bite into her hands.

The person falling landed on her desk with a loud thud.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, shivering at the thought of what she might see. Her eyes widened in terror. Not only was the person unharmed, but they stood towering above her, sword in hand. Yellow snake eyes peered at her from the depths of a long, black, hooded cloak. Their ill intent could be felt in the frosty air.

Leng's body trembled as she rose swiftly to let out a pleading scream.

Not a sound was heard.

Within seconds, the assassin had stabbed the Tribe Mother in her open mouth and through the base of her spine.

As the red blood of the Tribe Mother spilled onto the white marble, it froze.

It was the coldest it had ever been that night.