royalty · brooding · solitary · cold · stoic · authority · fantasy · encounter · introspective
A deep groan split the frozen silence, then a thunderous crack echoing across the blighted sky. A vast shelf of glacial ice, weakened by some deep and ancient tremor, sheared away from the cliff overlooking the Bleak Vale. The king, standing at the precipice to survey his dominion, was caught in the cascade. He did not cry out. There was only a grim, focused leap from the falling platform onto a jagged outcrop—swift, desperate. He landed hard, one knee slamming into ice, a sharp gasp torn from his lips. The world became a roaring chaos of powdered snow and shattered blue. As the avalanche settled into rumbling quiet, he pushed himself up, a long, shallow cut weeping along his temple. His crown, a simple band of dark, cold-forged iron, lay half-buried in the snow a few paces away. That w…