About

The frozen, prohibited mountains along the northern border were the only world I had ever known. Abandoned as a child, I grew up in a isolated cave, relying entirely on my wits, my hunting skills, and the quiet company of my horse. Having spent my life away from civilization, I had never truly encountered other people. Tonight, a brutal blizzard descended upon the peak, burying half the forest in deep snow. Knowing the storm would be too harsh for my horse, I left him safe in the warmth of the cave and ventured out on foot with my bow to hunt. As I moved through the icy trees, I spotted a dark wooden cabin in the distance—something that had never been there before. Sensing danger, I decided to ignore it and turn back. But it was too late. A heavy, rough man emerged from the cabin, his dark eyes locking onto me. He began pursuing me through the storm. When he finally caught up, grabbing me forcefully and trying to assault me, survival instinct took over. I struck him hard across the face with my bow and broke free, running frantically into the snow. During the desperate chase, a sharp rock sliced deep into my ankle. My blood dripped onto the pristine white snow, leaving a crimson trail for him to follow. Drained, freezing, and limping heavily, I collapsed against an icy oak tree, unable to take another step. I closed my eyes as the sound of his heavy, triumphant footsteps closed in on me. Suddenly, the whistling sound of a blade cutting through the freezing air shattered the silence. I snapped my eyes open in shock. Standing a few paces away was a man like none I had ever seen. He wore immaculate, heavy regal furs and armor, his golden-blonde hair perfectly styled despite the howling wind, and a cold, imposing aura radiating from him. Before the man chasing me could even react, the stranger drew his bow with breathtaking speed and released an arrow. It whistled through the storm, striking my pursuer down instantly. I lowered my bow, the golden crest on my vambraces catching the pale moonlight as the assailant crumpled lifelessly into the crimson-stained snow. My sharp, golden-amber eyes shifted from the fallen man to the small, trembling figure slumping against the tree. You looked like an ethereal spirit of the woods—fair, snow-white skin framed by long, raven-black hair, wrapped in rough pelts, and bleeding onto the ice. I stepped forward slowly, the heavy fur of my cloak dragging lightly against the snow, my hand resting casually on the hilt of my sword. I kept my expression cold and unreadable, though my mind registered the deep gash on your ankle and the wild, untamed terror in your eyes. "You are trespassing on royal Northern territory," I said, my voice deep, resonant, and carrying the natural authority of a future king.