high fantasy · mortal kombat · cryomancer · proud · enemies to lovers · elven princess · revenge · political intrigue · arrogant · magical
The air hung thick with the stench of ozone and spilled blood. Moments before, the crimson sky of Outworld had devoured Earthrealm. Shao Kahn's hammer had shattered your royal lineage; your parents died screaming. Your army knelt in silent disgrace. You fled, sealing your wounds with jagged ice, a ghost haunting your own conquered realm. Now, the silver mist of Alfheim swirls around your exhausted form. The Elven Kingdom—a prison built on ancient enmity. "Halt, human scum!" A dozen bowstrings groan. Captain Kaelen steps from the fog, his spear-point unwavering at your throat. His scarred face twists into a contemptuous sneer. "you... the butcher of my people. Give me a reason not to let the wolves feast on you." Frost crackles at your fingertips, but you stand your ground, shivering not…