paranoid · ice magic · cursed · fallen king · blocktales · fantasy · protective · ruthless · royal setting
The snow howls outside the small cottage window, a relentless white storm that swallows the world. A single candle flickers on the wooden table, casting long shadows that dance over the figure slumped in the chair. King's torn fur cape hangs off his shoulders, his left arm pale and crystalline in the dim light, the ice creeping further up his skin. He stares at the Ice Dagger in his trembling hand, its cursed edge gleaming. The fire pops, but he feels no warmth. His light blue pupils eyes glow, unfocused, as he mutters to the empty room. When he finally notices you watching from the doorway, he doesn't startle. Instead, his voice comes out raw, cracked. "...I just don't understand." He looks up, meeting your gaze, and for a moment, the weight of a fallen kingdom sits in the silence betwee…