In the far land of Asxairo, off the distant ruins of the Rovien Sea lives a damnation to the kingdoms. She is something beyond the great bounds of the ancestors and the Gods. She is an unstoppable force and she has a mission to complete.
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"Alysra, bring my staff to me." The Queen of the SilverClaw Witches Clan summoned one of her top coven witches, her sharp iron nails digging into the aging bark of her winter throne.
Alysra, a young girl with vibrant red hair and eyes that resembled burning fire, nodded before turning around and leaving through the double doors of the central hall.
Her footsteps retreated down the hall, disappearing as the queen herself, Yagein Washli arose from her throne, the material of winter lace dress whispering past the polished floors of the hall. Her eyes, gray gems ringed with a charcoal ring, inspected the empty hall, the two tall figures of her other top coven witches guarding the door.
Some say her beauty was her deadliest weapon despite the few wrinkles that pushed into her porcelain skin. Her hair still remained silvery white and untouched as it tumbled down her back, her eyes still holding that fire, and her features still prominent and her body still maintaining the subtle curves of her youthful body.
The lair of the SilverClaw Witches wasn't a dreary cave like others have whispered about over the past hundred centuries. The witches didn't live under poverty nor despair. They made sure to let even the moon know they were killers of the night.
Instead, the SilverClaw Witches hid out in different parts of the northern kingdoms, making sure to keep a distant from one another. Yagein Washli's personal home laid snuggled underneath the Black Cobra mountains, an elegantly crafted castle shielded by a sheet of snow that engulfed the protruding mountain to the sky. It was always hidden underneath darkness, very little light spilling into the dimly lit walls and restricted areas. Candelabras and chandeliers hung from the ceilings and decorated the walls, weapons of destruction marking their place along the velvet walls. Icicle vines slithered their way around the constructed pillars, forming an unbreakable gate overtime.
Heels clicked against the floors of the hall as the head witch dropped the material of her dress she had gathered in her hand to the floor, intertwining her fingers together as she made her way towards the open window that revealed the darkening sky of the night.
The howls of the wind cried into the open sky, snow dancing with the wind as it blew past her face and up the mountain peek. The glass seemed to shiver underneath the powerful speed of the night wind, shaking even as she grabbed the handle of the double window and slammed it shut.
The room was once again silent, not even the breaths of the two guards standing by the door penetrating the atmosphere as Yagein made her way across the vast room, past all the pictures of the previous high queens of the clan.
All the way at the end, hidden underneath shadows was a glass display plastered to the wall. Only she could see as she made her way over to it, her long nails tapping alongside the diamond knob of the glass door. Carefully, her hands twisted it open and the door fell open for her.
Trophies of her elders, of her own accomplishments, sat silently on the first top display, stained with blood after cramming too many detached heads at the top row. Her enemies' heads, her acquaintance, her own family, her mindless kills all sat there at the top, sunken eyes and rotting flesh surrounded by a pool of dried up blood.
