The Only Cure [Zkjt]

[Emma]

Sometimes, one disease could only be cured by another.

The snow was flecked with dark pink spots around the central pool of dark blood. The packed snow crunched heavily under my feet as I stepped around it, tilting my head as I peered at the clothing of the blood’s source. He was wearing the sort of steel plate armour common for caravan guards, oddly paired with more sensible fur boots and cloak. Since no merchants travelled this far into the mountains, it was safe to assume that this man had taken the armour for himself. I toed his head gently, careful not to get any blood on my latticed indigo boots, and turned his face away from me. There, on his neck, was a small but obvious tattoo of a wolf’s head. This bandit had been a member of the notorious Pack, it seemed. Cutpurses were not generally a problem outside the cities due to the Riders’ regular patrols, but some nonetheless thrived just beyond the edges of civilization. They knew their terrain, and how to avoid soldiers and Riders alike. This unfortunate fool didn’t seem to have met his end by either, as it were. The cause of death was a gaping hole through his torso, leaving several organs missing. From the lack of decay and the still-bright blood on the snow, this had been very recent.

I stepped away and continued up yet another steep incline. Atop the summit were the remains of a large campsite, with several more of the Pack’s members strewn across the ground. Tents had been shredded, firewood and supplies kicked around, and all of the deceased had enormous gaps in their bellies. Curiously, there was no sign of their innards. Perhaps the thing that had killed them had eaten its way through. I turned around, gaze flickering along the skeletal trees burdened with heavy snow. It was now the dead of winter. Everything lay entombed in ice, giving the normally intimidating forest an even more unsettling look. Everything seemed to emanate death. The only natural colours were the lifeless white of snow and the deep black of sleeping foliage and shadows. Even the sky was the colour of dirty cream, bloated with water. Snowflakes kissed my cheeks, and a strong gust of blasted winter wind made me shiver violently. Irritated, I drew my heavy fur cloak a little tighter around me, and cursed the rather stupid decision to leave Ristvak’bane with only suede boots and stockings to cover my legs.

But this was more important than a little bit of chill. These weren’t the first people slain by such an unusual method. Some of the farmers at the very edge of the Valley of the Crown had reported livestock and one or two peasants killed in the middle of the night. The Riders, naturally, had done a careful sweep and set night patrols at the edges of the Valley, but even they were wary of venturing into the Spine itself. Besides avalanches, rockslides, Urgal tribes and bandits, there was the danger of something else living here, something that did not like to be disturbed. I had known to stay away from the deeper caves and the higher peaks even as a very small child, and I doubted even Mercy had dared upset it. When left alone, this mysterious power was quite happy to leave everyone else in peace- killing at random was not one of its quirks. There were spirits here as well as other curiosities, drawn by the force of this being, and they could very well be the monsters behind the killings. But I was concerned it could be something else, something that made me feel a most troubling sensation- fear. Fear that Mercy had returned, and that I still couldn’t hold a candle to her power.

Something moved in the bushes behind me. Wolves, perhaps, come to scavenge the bandits’ remains. I turned, and saw eyes glinting underneath the snow-laden branches. The sclera were black, the irises red. Not a wolf. I abruptly bent down, placing my hands on the snow and muttering in the ancient language. The snow hissed and began to melt into steam, revealing bare yellow grass below. Then, as I rose from the crouch, the ground caught fire, abruptly erupting into a large inferno that threatened to eat away the bushes. I held the flame for a few moments, and then dismissed it with a wave of my hand. When the smoke cleared, the thing was gone. I made a small noise of satisfaction and turned away. Damaging the life of the Spine would only lead to my untimely demise, so I wanted to get the attention I sought somewhere barren. Higher up was a rocky outcrop that would give me a good vantage point of the forest below.

My hands were red with cold and my breathing heavy as I gripped the cliff’s stone and began to pull myself up. Physically, I was almost always at a disadvantage. But far better be it to be breathless every once in a while than to spoil my wonderful slimness with muscles. I wanted to look like a woman, not a lumberjack. I let out my breath in a loud whoosh as I finally heaved myself up, quite glad that only the dead were around to see this. Then, regaining my composure, I stood tall on the outcrop, looking down into the ice forest below. The only unusual sight was the splotches of blood far below me, stark crimson against the white snow. Then, touching the pool of black magic within my mind, I readied myself. Reaching into my fur cloak, I pulled out an amethyst that hung around my neck, taking hold of the energy stored within.

“Eyddr eyreya iet. Ma’jafn du deloi.”

The first sentence deafened me to the explosion caused by the second sentence. If I had not, I would have almost certainly lost my hearing permanently. I took shelter behind an overhang from the eruption, feeling the blast of hot air that hit me full in the face and enjoying the vibration of the mountain shaking under my feet. The cliff on either side of me disintegrated, sending ice, dust and chunks of rock soaring into the air. The snow rushed downwards, coating the forest beneath and burying the corpses. It was soon followed by the airborne rocks, creating small craters in the snow. Once the mountain’s rumbling ceased, I stepped away from the shelter of the overhang, which was now pockmarked where hot rock had struck it. The aftermath was similar to that of a landslide, but it was obviously an unnatural one. The earth was magically unsettled, and the sound must have been heard in Carvala. I sat down on my stone, letting my legs hang over the edge. Now I had to wait and see who or what would find me.

Character(s) Used;; Laioni
Words;; 1150
AL Translation;; "Empty my ears. Unbalance the earth."
Muse;; Pretty lifeless.
Thoughts;; ... despite having my favourite sharp-tongued bitch, creepy spirits, dead bodies, blood, fire, and a fricking EXPLOSION, I'm sorry to say this post was incredibly boring to write. Probably because I wasn't in a Laioni mood, it's the lazy, lazy holidays AND I generally struggle to write single-character posts. BUT THE SITE NEEDS RP, DAMMIT. Also, sorry I didn't put much description of her looks; I couldn't find a way to do it without it being totally random. I can explain her appearance to you on MSN.

[zkjt]

Despite the misgivings that constantly plagued me about the location of my home, I was surprisingly satisfied with it.

The Spine was known for its mysteriousness, and its various hauntings and spirits. People considered the Spine to be a place of demons and ghosts, unfriendly spirits. Which was true, in a way. Ghosts lurked and cried out their sorrow for crimes that had been committed in lives lived many years ago. Usually those ghosts quickly learned I wasn’t the listening type. And yet despite the supernatural beings constantly hindering those few mortal beings who dared penetrate the foreboding presence of dark tress and steep cliffs, humans seemingly feared other beings more: Urgals. It was actually mystifying to me. Urgals were Urgals: brutish thugs capable of almost no coherent thought and only good for causing war, rape, pillage, and general unease for farmers. Urgals could be seen, Urgals could be killed. They were mortal beings, capable of pain and, in some rare cases, sadness and love. Urgals could be understood. The dead, however, were completely different.

They had lived, they had died. Many of them died young, not able to experience the full potential of life. And that made them spiteful. The creaking you hear when you’re trying to sleep, for instance. Is that a 7 feet tall Urgal who is probably too dumb to even know what it’s doing? No, of course not. It’s the spirit of a young soldier who died young and never wedded his true love. And that’s what you should fear. The things that never got what you can still get. Because they’ll do anything to make sure you never get it either. And so it definitely offended me when I was told I conspired with the Urgals as I ripped the men’s hearts out.

“You work for Urgals don’ ye ye betch!” a shout from across the clearing. Licking my finger clean of the remaining blood that hadn’t been deposited into one of my vials, I turned my head. Removing my finger from my blood-red lips, blood-red as in actually being covered in blood, I smiled coldly. “Urgal? My dear friend there is much more to fear in life than Urgals,” I snarled and leapt across the snow-covered clearing, making it across the roughly 13 meter wide space in a single bound. The ground was strewn with corpses, gaping holes in the center of their chests drawing the eyes. The holes were ragged and asymmetrical, displaying quite clearly the rough intensity I had used when I plunged my hand into their chests. I hadn’t collected any of the organs. Same with the blood, but only a couple men remained standing, and their demise would come very shortly.

When I reached the first man, he clumsily chopped his sword toward my head. I laughed, as cold as I could, and let the sword careen over my head, my wards blocking it. My energy didn’t slip a bit. The sword flew out of the man’s hand and was lost in the surrounding brush. I cackled again, and the man soiled himself. I stopped laughing and cocked my head, glaring at him. “You dare…in my prescence?” The man opened his mouth to scream, and I jabbed my arm down his throat, my filed fingernails scraping his esophagus, and continuing down to his lungs. Wrinkling my nose as the man attempted to bite down on my arm, I finally found one of his lungs, and squeezed it. Smiling pleasantly, I waited until the man was dead. The last man wasn’t in the clearing any longer. Sighing in exasperation, I reached him in less than 30 seconds. Leaning against a tree I imagined what a sight I made: A blond elf, covered in blood, wearing all black. Oh how exciting. The man’s eyes widened and he fell to his knees, begging for mercy. I studied my nail, and then turned to study him. “Beg all you want, your blood is going to be a lot more precious for what it is going to be used for then for what it is being used for now.” I darted to him and raked my claws over his face. He let out a guttural croak, before falling silent. And then the crows started cawing.

The process of collecting the blood and the organs didn’t take long. What I didn’t carry, I levitated. I was quite thorough, and made sure nothing of use was missed. And then I studied the scene. A massacre, something that could be only done by something real, something alive. It’d be blamed on Urgals, again. Why couldn’t anyone see that I’m better than Urgals! Call me a spirit, call me a specter, just don’t call me an Urgal. Wrinkling my forehead, I decided to leave it be. I was much to lazy to bother cleaning it up, and so I just turned, and headed toward my cottage.

Only half a mile away, it was a small building. One story, made of gray stone with a roof made of similar material, it hardly looked inviting. To those few that could even see it in the first place. The area was surrounded by wards, 7 meters from the house, outward. Crows and other birds had nests in the decaying trees surrounding the house, and I welcomed their presence. Animal blood was just as precious to me as humans. The house itself was nestled at the base of a mountainous hill, and the back of the house was only a couple feet or so shy of the cliffwall. The front and sides of the house were covered in brush and trees, and a small creek ran only a couple meters away. The house displayed no signs of being inhabited on the outside, so if any pesky riders or skilled enough elves happened to come by, they wouldn’t think to investigate. A perfect laboratory for my research.

My research was in fact going smoothly. Secrets were being unraveled to me, slowly but surely, and every day I felt myself grow stronger. I was excited. This was what I had waited for, since the early days of my learning with Marcus. And though that treacherous little slug wasn’t here with me, it was for the best. My learning was my own, my results my own. And when I conquered the miserable excuse of a continent known as Alagaesia, I would be renowned everywhere. I would be appreciated and loved, not shunned like a criminal. I was a scientist, a thinker. I was beautiful and brilliant, and I would not be ignored no longer, no I wouldn’t. Soon, very soon, I would reveal myself. And then woe unto those who defied me, for I would hunt them down first.

Muttering a spell under my breath, I watched as ground in front of me fell away, revealing small, worn steps. I descended them quickly, my black garb making no noise. The gray sky matched with the snow on the ground and in the trees and the utter silence in the air made time seem to freeze. I blinked, not understanding what it was. My spine tingled, and I felt my pointed ears perk up of their own accord. And then I knew what it was: My wards, not the ones around the house but the ones farther out had been broken.

The farther wards had been made specifically for magic users: powerful ones. They had never been broken, and for the first time in 90 years, a shiver flew down my spine, carrying with it uncertainty and worry. Straightening, I deposited my organs and my blood in less than a minute, as I had to investigate the mysterious source of power that I had begun to feel radiating from somewhere nearby. After I was semi-satisfied, I began following the invisible trail of magic, which quickly led me to the clearing I had been in only half an hour or so ago. I made sure I was hidden before I advanced, and only then did I peer into the clearing.

The bodies were still there, their blood seeping into the white snow. The faces of the men and women were frozen, revealing their dying emotions: Fear, hatred, surprise, and a fierceness that I hated about humans. So pitiful. Crouching above one such body was a woman. She was a woman, that much was obvious, and she was powerful. She was covered in a black fur cloak, and that coupled with her ebony hair masked any of her other features. I studied, her, before realizing I needed to get closer. I searched the minds of nearby animals, finally finding one I liked: A timber wolf, an alpha male it seemed. I slipped into its unguarded mind, and cautiously padded toward the clearing, making sure to stay hidden behind the brush. Apparently I wasn’t quiet enough, as the woman turned quickly, startling me. She met my eyes, and flinched, although she didn’t appear afraid. As if to prove me true she placed her hands on the ground, and quite quickly flames shot up, starting to advance toward the wolf’s hiding place. I left the mind of the wolf quickly, enjoying the comfort of my own body. Who was this woman? I pondered several options. She wasn’t a human, she was too powerful. She didn’t appear to be a dragon rider either. That left only a shade or an elf. I found myself hoping it was the latter.

I allowed time to pass, trying to come up with something to do. I found myself nervous, an emotion I rarely felt, and surprisingly unsure of what to do next. However it seemed I wouldn’t have much time to decide, as out of nowhere a loud rumbling began. Murmuring a spell in the Ancient Language, I lessened the effects of the loud noise, but was quite surprised by its magnitude. I was also confused by what it was. It couldn’t have been natural, it was much too loud for that. And if it wasn’t natural it was obviously done on purpose, and the only person nearby powerful enough to do something of the sort was the woman I had seen earlier. She was making a call to me. I was immediately offended, and I frowned at the nerve of this woman. Well, she’ll just have to pay the price now won’t she. And I quickly traced her to her waiting spot, and levitated up the cliff to meet her.

From the direction I appeared above the cliff, the woman didn’t notice me right away. I was slightly to her right, and she was looking toward her left, her pale hands closed around each other. Misty breath came out of her breath, and I was able to get a glimpse of her features. She had pale skin, skin that rivaled even the marble-like color of my own. Her hair was black, not a dark brown, and from my position I could only make out that her eyes were a purplish black color. She had male-up on, which immediately bothered me, and was wearing all black. For some reason she reminded me of me.

As if sensing my gaze, she turned toward me and her eyes widened, though her emotions were entirely unreadable to me. “You’re the murderer I take it?” she asked, her voice flat. She was studying me, her eyes traversing my body. I hadn’t had an actual conversation in months, and due to the fact this girl was powerful I decided to let her live for a while. “Hm..maybe? Well yes, why not take the credit? A wonderful job didn’t you think?” I smiled coldly and descended onto the cliff side, my naked feet touching the ground softly. “And you my dear child, your name would be? You are quite powerful I must admit, although against me, you’d be…” I broke off, and smiled again. The woman stood up and faced me, her features hardening. “And I should tell you my name because..?” Her voice carried with it a breeziness, a calmness to it that irritated me. My lips twitching, I answered the twit, “because before I kill you, I’d like your name. I’m Aelyn. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?” And I smiled again, revealing my pointed teeth. This would be fun.

[Emma]

Now came the boring part.

I was content to wait for hours, if need be. Spirits lived by their own rules and had their own sense of the passing of time. It was not something I hadn’t dealt with before, and so for once, I was patient. I released the spell that deafened my ears and leaned back into the overhang, away from the biting wind. To anyone, I would have appeared to be asleep, except for my eyes, which flicked back and forth on the landscape below me. I wondered if in fact it was Mercy, and if so, what she intended. World domination, though not below her, seemed… out-of-character. Revenge, perhaps, for my destroying her body? It irritated me that I knew next to nothing about the woman that had raised me. If not, what else it could be? Perhaps a collection of angry spirits that needed exorcising? I doubted a single one could have caused such damage, and I didn’t feel the crushing aura so common of Shades. There was a myriad of other unknowns it could have been as well- a slew of strange creatures had followed the humans from Broddring, like those disgusting Ra’zac. I wrinkled my nose. What problems hadn’t humans caused?

Slipping into deep thought was how I generally dealt with boredom, and I gradually began to pay more attention to myself than to the surrounding area. As such, I didn’t notice the figure rising beside me, silent as a mouse, until I felt an unpleasant aura emanating from my right. I turned my head, and locked gazes with the strangest sight- a woman floating several inches beside the ledge I was sitting on. At least, it appeared to be a woman at first glance. She looked like she must have at one time been beautiful, perhaps an elf, but some great trauma had made that beauty wilt and curl like a dying flower. Her unwashed ash-blonde hair hung close to her face, which was dry and unnaturally pale. Her eyes were green, but also flecked with black and red, reminding me of a flower that been struck by disease. Those eyes were feral, animalistic, and cemented the belief that this woman, though not a Shade, was anything but a mere elf anymore. From the blood staining her hands, mouth, and curiously bare feet, she was a murderer at least.

“Are you the killer, I wonder?” I said, pouring all my suspicion and sarcasm into my words. The one emotion I held back was a wave of sweet relief- this creature was many things, but Mercy she was not. But could she be working for Mercy?
“Hm… maybe? Well yes, why not take the credit? A wonderful job, didn’t you think?”
She floated down next to me, landing with little effort. If she was able to levitate and waste very little of the energy at her disposal while doing it, perhaps I had underestimated the power of the Spine. That didn’t mean I was turning my back, however. I stood, reaching for the pull of magic and holding it there, the ancient language already on my tongue.
“And you, my dear child, your name would be? You are quite powerful I must admit, although against me, you’d be…”
“Why should I tell you my name?” I asked cuttingly.
“Because before I kill you, I’d like your name. I’m Aelyn. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”
She looked at me like she was expecting me to drop to my knees at the name and worship her terrible power. I would do no such thing.
“You are a second-rate spirit who hides in the backwoods like a common criminal. Do not think to cast yourself as some infamous demon that all should know and fear. At best, you are well-known by the thieving slime you just slew.”
The spirit balked, rage colouring her face, but she made one more attempt to be civilized.
“I am not a spirit, you insolent brat. And whatever I am, you shouldn’t be so eager to engage my power.”
“Do you take me for a fool?” I snapped. “I know better than to barter with your kind!”

I stepped backwards off the ledge, letting myself drop into nothingness as the cliff released a high-pitched whistle, and then exploded violently. I rolled as I struck a pile of snow, and then continued down it, avoiding the lethal shards of falling rock. In the smoke and fire, I couldn’t see the spirit, but that blast surely wasn’t going to kill her. I merely needed time and cover for the rest of my incantations. As the spirit flew down from the shattered cliff, alighting on the snow and eyes searching, I muttered one spell that I’d learned the past year, at the gala that had gone so very wrong for its creator. “Nagal, gera spjór.” The nails of my right hand extended rapidly, through the snow and into the air, aiming for the fetid monster’s heart. She saw them coming and moved, faster than I expected, out of the way while my nails were still growing. Only one managed to catch her, nicking her across the left cheekbone. The creature dropped into a crouch, touching her face and then glaring at the fresh rivulets of blood on her hand.

“Very well. If you want a fight, you’ll get one.” She rose again, and I ground my new spears against each other, crouching lower beneath my pile. “Let’s see if your power matches your boldness!”

Character(s) Used;; Laioni
Words;; 920
AL Translation;; "Nails, become spears."
Muse;; Not... bad o.O
Thoughts;; Not my best, but still a major improvement because it wasn't boring to write. =D

[zkjt]

I had thought that the girl would recognize me. Maybe her eyes would widen in shock and fear as she slowly but surely backed off over the edge of the cliff. Or maybe she’d get on her knees and beg for mercy, her perfectly done mascara rolling in rivulets down her pale cheeks, black rivers akin to the red ones I had created earlier. I even would have been fine with just some recognition. But her next words stung me worse than anything she could have said, “You are a second-rate spirit who hides in the backwoods like a common criminal. Do not think to cast yourself as some infamous demon that all should know and fear. At best, you are well-known by the thieving slime you just slew.” Her voice carried with it cynicism and sheer redundancy toward me, and through me everything I had worked for. Now, my anger was starting to catch flame.

“I am not a spirit, you insolent brat. And whatever I am, you shouldn’t be so eager to engage my power.” I hissed, clutching at the remains of my gigantic ego. Though I was angered, I made no attempt toward her. Any magical battle between us would surely call down even the riders, if not other unwanted viewers. I opened my mouth to say so, when the girl spoke again, fists clenching. “Do you take me for a fool? I know better than to barter with your kind!” And with that she dived off the cliff. I watched her body disappear from view, her dark hair in tumbles the last thing I saw. I was confused, but only for a second, before I felt the unmistakable sense of power. Before I even fully knew what was happening, I was following the girl off the cliff. My sense of urgency soon revealed itself to be correct. As I fell, I heard a loud rumble, and following close after that was debris and heavy pieces of rock: what remained of the cliff. As I flew I narrowly avoided the pieces of rock, all while keeping myself in control. Several times I was nicked on the shoulder, as I had never made wards to protect myself from minor injuries done by nature. Making a mental note to myself, I tried to memorize that piece of information. As it turns out, I wouldn’t have the time to even try,

Upon landing, I scanned the landscape around me. When she had jumped off, I hadn’t been too far to the right of her, so I knew she was fairly close. There was no way the brat was going to run away, not after her little display, and even if she tried she wasn’t escaping my clutches. I didn’t appreciate being attacked, but even more than that, having my power made a mockery of to my face. The pale grey of the landscape was starting to flow together, and as I turned things began to be hard to separate from each other. I knew she was wearing dark clothing, so I tried finding things of the same color. That wouldn’t be necessary though, as she would come at me.

I heard them coming before I saw them. They made a high whistling sound as they flew through the air, and I only narrowly dived to the left of them, my bare left shoulder covered in snow, while my right cheek slowly began to bleed. One of the objects had sliced a small cut. It wasn’t much to worry about, and I didn’t bother healing it as the blood would stay out of my eyes. I touched a hand to it, allowing the heat of my life force to run over my fingers. The sight of myself injured rejuvenated me, and I stood up, allowing a feeling of uncontrollable mirth to come into me. “Very well. If you want a fight, you’ll get one. Let’s see if your power matches your boldness!” I called out to the surrounding wilderness. The rumbling of the cliff had finally ceased, and all was quiet. I still hadn’t discovered the hiding spot of the girl, but planned on doing it quite soon. First, I needed cover. I darted toward the nearest tree, flattening myself against the trunk, on the side of the tree facing away where the needle-like objects had come from. I allowed myself only a few seconds to catch my breath, before I tried figuring out what spells I would use. Obviously I needed to locate the girl first, although in this terrain and setting, it would be hard using my sight alone.
“Sýndu mér thá fallin” As soon as the last word was spoken, purple flooded my vision. The stark contrast between the white of the winter setting around, and the purple dots-some big and some small-was unsettling, but I soon gathered my bearings, and began searching for the girl in question. There were only two purple dots that were big enough to be a human, and only one was close enough to be the girl I was searching for. She wasn’t very far away, and though I was able to see her, I doubted she knew exactly which spell I had used, and would be able to counter or copy me. She however had projectiles, that was surprisingly sharp. I would need my own weapons handy.

I contemplated what I would do. I could use fire, although that would be too dangerous in a forest full of timber and kindle wood, and the fire would alert many beings I didn’t want present. I decided that the best thing would be for me to use the earth, and nature. It would be much more believable if riders were to pass by, and wouldn’t be attributed right away to a witch, or magic-user. Closing my eyes I began forming the spell in my mind, when suddenly, my mind was attacked. My barriers rose suddenly on my own accord, although it had been years since I had done any type of mind warfare. The assailant probed a few times, but once realizing my defenses were too powerful, it withdrew. I had no clue if it was the girl, or someone else entirely, and I had not sensed any sort of persona from the mind. Currently, I would have to focus on getting the girl off my back. I wasn’t happy with the way this day was going.

“Náttúra, stefna ég thig til ath gera both mitt. Vindur, howl. Snjór, falla. Tré, lifna og vekja rætur thínar. Orsthk helvíti óvinum mínum.” I whispered, allowing a plea to enter my voice. As the spell took effect, I was surprised by the drop in my energy. However I smiled as I watched the spell take full effect. At first, a dead silence overtook the forest. Birds stopped their singing, leaves stopped shaking, even the snow stopped falling. I raised my hands to my face and closed my eyes, relishing the pulsating energy that was beginning to form in the air. I ignored the spots of dry blood on my face, and raised my hands higher, as the first signs of the spell took place. First, the wind picked up. It began light, before picking up velocity. A loud howling began, worming its way into my ears. I didn’t cover them however, but rather rejoiced in them. A true symbol of my power. Snow drifts that had been dormant for some time rose up, smothering the trees nearby. My pale hair whipped around my head, but a quick word stilled it, and my hair fell down to my shoulders, ignoring the wind’s pull. I was hesitant to stand, but chanced it, and was surprised by my sturdiness. I leaned against the tree right as the snow began to fall. Following the same pattern as the wind, it started out slow, but picked up its speed almost immediately. Heavy snowflakes descended from the sky, blocking out whatever sun there may have been. Darkness swept across the clearing, and only a small purple light revealed where the girl was hiding. She was standing, her head cocked up. I was quite curious as to what she may have been thinking, and I reached out to probe her mind, when the roots ripped themselves out of their slumber, rising above the ground and then descending once more, ensnaring several small critters on their way down. I noticed those roots nearer to the girl stayed above ground flicking out toward anything near them. I smiled, and with my mind focused on the girl. Instantly she became their focus, the roots snapping out at her to try and ensnare her wrists and her ankles. I laughed, manically, as my frost Hell was released.

It truly was a winter wonderland.