The Lords of Summer and Winter, Life and Death, stood before the norn-mother Urdr, deep within the bowels of the world-tree.

The Summer King turned to the norn-maiden that had summoned them to the chamber.

“Have you no idea what this may be about?” he asked gently.

“No, your grace, she refused the mind-web. She… spoke,” the young elf seemed terribly disturbed.

The Winter King suddenly looked up.

“Get out,” he gestured to the girl, pointing at the door.

“Yes, your grace,” she hurried out of the room.

“That was a bit rude,” the Summer King squinted at him.

“She has not spoken in an age,” he leveled a hard gaze at the other elf.

He moved forward, placing a hand on the norn-mother’s ancient, gnarled skin, the texture almost like bark.

“We are here, Urdr. Speak to us, if you will,” he whispered.

The interior of the chamber was blasted with a hurricane of wind mana as the mind within the fragile body rose from its half-dreaming state, fully awake for the first time in centuries.

“THE MOMENT IS NIGH. SUN AND MOON MUST TAKE WING AND RIDE THE SERPENT’S HOLLOW FROM MOTHER’S BREAST TO FATHER’S DEPTHS. LIGHT AND DARK MUST LEAVE THE NEST. GO NOW, TO THE SEAL OF THE NIGHTFATHER BENEATH THE GREAT TREE AND WEAVE A PATH THROUGH THE NOT-WATERS TO THE SEAL OF THE NAMELESS WANDERER, WHERE YOU SHALL WAIT FOR HIS CHOSEN TO COME.”

The norn-mother’s mind was a bottomless well, her wyrding accompanied by constantly fluctuating visions of the vast shadows of Fate moving across the tapestry of reality.

The twin kings weathered the strain of viewing the branches of Fate as they weathered the titanic storm of mana pressing out from the seer.

“How much time do we have?” the Winter King pressed her.

“TARRY NOT, BUT READY YOURSELVES FOR FLIGHT. YOU MUST ARRIVE AND DEPART BEFORE THE LIGHT, ELSE THE WHITE BEAST FIND YOU WITHOUT THE MOTHER’S PROTECTION.”

“Urdr, where is the Seal of the Nameless Wanderer during this cycle?” the Summer King asked calmly.

“TO THE SOUTH, BENEATH THE AROUIL PEAKS, WHICH THE TRIBES OF MEN AND STONE-KINGS CALL THE SILVERGLOOMS.”

“I know the Seal of which she speaks. I will begin preparations. Meet me in the throne room at the next bell, my love,” the Summer King spoke aloud, then planted a kiss on the Lord of Winter’s cheek before sweeping out of the seer’s chamber.

The Winter King simply stared at the norn-mother, the moments dragging on as the blind, rheumy eyes stared back into his own mirrored steel irises.

“Is this the day, grandmother? Is this the day I shall lose him and be left alone forever?” he touched the norn-mother’s face, and placed his forehead against her own.

“WHILE THE CHOSEN LIVE, NO FATE IS WRITTEN IN STONE, MY BOY. SEEK THE SEAL, AND SPIRIT THEM FROM HER CLUTCHES. DO NOT ALLOW YOUR LOVE TO FACE HER,” the wrinkled ancient lips drew into the faintest hint of a smile.

“Thank you, Urdr.”

“GO NOW, WITH MY LOVE, LITTLE SNOWFLAKE.”

The Lord of Air and Darkness, King of Ice and Endings, turned on his heel and strode from the norn-mother’s chamber, upward toward the royal armory, where his mail and his blade were currently kept in repose.

He would take up those ancient arms, and he would stand at the side of his beloved, and perhaps, if they were very unlucky, the White Bitch would finally taste his blade before she tore out his heart and ate it.

-----

Together, the Twin Kings stood hand in hand before the Seal of the Unveiled Eye, where the Chosen would receive the power to view all of Ayrgard within their minds.

A massive ritual circle had been circumscribed around the indestructible black stone dais, the nine corners of which were filled with reagents and offerings of obscene value.

“Are you certain this will work?” the Winter King whispered.

“I have performed this ritual before, you know,” he pecked the pale cheek next to him.

“That was over a century ago,” the taller elf gave him a sideways glance.

“Always a worry-wort,” the Summer King smiled gently. “It is time.”

The Lord of Thicket and Rain stepped forward and began to chant in an ancient tongue, syllables rolling and ululating from his lips. Mana began to condense into a visible haze over the ritual circle, a gentle shimmering ballet of waveforms and patterns.

Finally, the chant came to an end, and the Summer King drew his hands into the final posture to complete the ritual.

The gossamer lines of power surrounding the Seal suddenly froze, then swirled together in a fractal dance, colliding and coalescing in the center of the seal, where a pinprick of nothing that hurt to gaze upon began to yawn open.

The hole into the Between grew, slowly, limned in gentle crystalline flame, and within the yawning portal of nothing, a pattern emerged.

Suddenly, the lattice of mana snapped together, and another seal, deep within a mountain cave was visible within the nothing.

“Step through, quickly. Do not allow any part of yourself or your panoply to touch the Between,” the Summer King urged his partner.

The Lord of Air and Darkness gracefully leapt through the portal, then a dozen knights dressed alternately in black or golden platemail passed through the portal behind him.

The Summer King turned to the Seneschal next to him.

“The Frostguard and Sunsworn are through. I shall follow them now. None can know we have departed Verdantes, understood?” he whispered.

The elf simply nodded resolutely to his King, and then the golden-haired elf leapt through the portal, emerging atop the Seal of the Nameless Wanderer beneath the Silvergloom Mountains.

“So, what now?” the Lord of Winter held his hand out for his beloved.

“Now, we must prepare the ritual for the return trip,” he began to unload hundreds of thousands of gold worth of ritual components from his arcane storage.

“And then?” the Winter King directed the Frostguard and Sunsworn to begin sorting the components.

“Then, we wait,” he replied grimly.