48. The Frozen Throne

Reyna

We’ve been travelling for a full day and half a night; the warmth of the previous land giving way to something far colder. While we make our way to the Frozen Throne, I am mesmerised by the scenery that surrounds us, a unique combination of icy coldness and vibrant life that seems impossible.

The land here is like nothing I have ever seen before; trees growing right out of frozen ground and sleek ice, their trunks and branches intricately wrapped in layers of ice and snow. Yet, surprisingly, they don’t seem lifeless or dormant.

Then there are the flowers—blooms in shades of icy blue, blood crimson, and lavender, shimmering in the sunlight as if kissed by frost. It defies logic, the notion that such delicate beauty could thrive in this arctic realm.

Yet here they are, like tiny miracles scattered across the snow, as if sewn by the hand of some God or Goddess.

My eyes widen as I notice movement in the distance. White, fluffy creatures, almost ethereal in appearance, dart between