Winter was coming. It was strange, thinking that so much had happened in the span of less than three years, and yet it seemed like far shorter. Well, it had been far shorter for me, since much of that first year had been spent on a plane where a god’s will made time flow at different rates. Even so, it was odd to see the first stirrings of winter on the horizon.

A mere two weeks after my army conquered Trenia, I had returned on the day that became known as Tormfall. Our actions had apparently caused a chain reaction, and every temple, shrine, and altar to Torm throughout the realms had been engulfed in flames, slaying many of his most ardent followers. Since then, Torm’s remaining faithful had been desperately crusading, working to rebuild the god’s faith, but people were slow to return to his worship when they did not know what caused the death of so many.

However, one god’s misfortune is an opportunity for the others. The Red Knight, especially, had seen a rise in her fortunes in the wider realms, as her clerics and paladins proclaimed their message of being prepared for misfortunes and setbacks, and readying stratagems to deal with them beforehand. In other places, the worship of the more primal gods of nature saw renewed fervor, as Torm’s faltering left people looking to those gods who represented parts of the natural world that all knew well.

In my new kingdom of Frostreach, naturally, Auril’s church had become the ‘official’ religion of the state. I did not disallow or discriminate against the other faiths, however. That was foolish, and a sure way to unite powers against me. No, I simply mandated that all who were not in direct service to another god must pay homage to the Frostmaiden, though they need not kneel before her shrine alone. Since this was already a common enough practice in the northlands, few resisted this command.

Resistance to my rule faded during that first winter. None of those who called Frostreach, or its capital of Trenia, home starved that winter, despite it being only a bare few months after the city’s fall. Oh, the rations may not have been to everyone’s liking, as much of it was magically conjured, but no one went hungry unless they chose it, and I ate the same conjured rations I had for years, save for feast days, and everyone knew it.

Of course, part of the reason for that was due to the fact that the blandness of the rations was calming on her stomach. Something she had been glad of in those months, as she adjusted to a sudden change in her circumstances. Oh, not becoming royalty. That had no bearing on her disposition. The celebration after her crowning, however…

Vestele and Siora had demanded to have a hand in planning the coronation celebration, and, at the time, I had no reason to deny them. When they returned the next day, fresh from a trip to the plane of Shendilavri, with a dozen succubi who they had somehow convinced to come to the material plane, and be ‘party favors’ for the celebration. All right, they were mainly paid in being brought over to the material plane and then being allowed to run free after the night’s festivities, but that was beside the point.

The main point was that, in the course of the night, I had the personal attention of three succubi all devoted to me. And, in a somewhat surreal experience, each one took the form of, well, me. Only, they had additional equipment between their legs that I did not.

A few months later, the healers confirmed that I had an heir on the way. Nine months after my coronation, there was a new feast, as Rogdun Demonson of House Rimedancer was born. On the one hand, it was good to have the future of the kingdom secured. On the other, well, I was well and truly glad for the process to be over, and even more so to have plenty of people who could help me with the business of raising a child of mixed fey and demonic ancestry.

But a queen could not simply rely on an heir, and her own brand of fair rulership to maintain power. Trenia’s walls were reinforced, and the surrounding lands brought under my sway. From the Frostrim Mountains to the east, to frozen ford across the Frostlace Lake to the west. From the frozen edge of the Great Glacier to the north to the crossroads of J’Nast to the south. All that land now belonged to Frostreach.

Which is not to say that there weren’t challengers to my rule. A white dragon which had made its lair in the Frostrims challenged me, but the wyrm soon found itself outmatched, for its icy breath did nothing against one who was already immune to the cold, and I quickly proved that my sword was far more dangerous than its claws and fangs as we danced in the air. And, when the wyrm fell its treasures became mine.

Thanks to this, above Trenia now rose a new symbol of the kingdom. Castle Frostspire was my home, and the seat of my rule. Built of unmelting blue ice further enhanced by magic, the castle was strong, and a symbol that the servants of the Frostmaiden ruled here.

And, with the castle and the dedication of the altar in the chapel there came a blessing from the Icedawn herself. In the lands nearby the castle arose a spire of blue ice, which could be ‘quarried’ and used for all sorts of things. The artisans of Trenia rejoiced and gave thanks for the sudden supply of what had been a rare resource. The fact that it took the place of a nearby stone quarry was of no importance. It wasn’t like that was the only quarry in the area, after all.

That was not the only blessing, either. To the south of the castle grew a massive field of Frostflowers. The flowers, normally found only upon the Great Glacier, if one dared not venture to the elemental plane of ice, or Auril’s own home of Fury’s Heart, grew in the pattern of a snowflake set inside a diamond, leaving no question by whose hand they had been set there.

More importantly, at least to the common folk, was that the perennial frostflowers were key ingredients in making a brew that chased away the cold. More than just the burn of alcohol, this wine granted the drinker Cold Resistance 5 for a time. And, if one drank the frosty wine each day for a month in the cold of winter, the effect became permanent. What was more, a mother drinking the wine while the child was in the womb or suckling at her breast for the same length of time could pass on that permanent effect to her child. Such a blessing went far towards boosting the Frostmaiden’s fame in the land, as well as my own, since I was the one who controlled the supply.

Of course, I was no fool. Auril Icedawn was not a benevolent goddess. She was cruel, yet fair. But she was also cunning. This boon was not a simple gesture to spread resistance to the cold through the land. Instead, it chased fire from the kingdom. The more citizens who could resist the cold, the fewer fires needed be built. By the end of the second winter, the only fires that could be found anywhere in the kingdom were a blacksmith’s forge, and a small flame for cooking one’s meal.

This was no restriction or law of mine. It was a simple result of the cold losing a bit of its bite. Because of that, fewer people made fires, and windows were left open in the winter, allowing Auril’s breath to touch all who lived in the country. Her biting caress was now a comfort, a pleasant chill to invigorate the body.

Through such simple acts, requiring only a tiny portion of the goddess’s power, she permanently won the hearts of the people of Frostreach, and cemented my rulership over them. More importantly, they kept at bay the hounds from other lands who were ill at ease with a ‘barbarian warlord’ taking over a country. Despite my army still including those regarded as monsters in civilized lands, those who hoped to foment unrest within my lands found themselves facing an uphill battle on an icy slope.

The goblins, orks, frostfolk, and others of my army integrated with the cities and towns under my rule. Their tribes prospered, for they were no longer forced to live as nomads upon the glacier’s edge. They quickly proved that the difference between ‘civilized’ and ‘monster’ was, in this case, at least, a disparity in learning and the fact that some races were not as attractive as others. But, now that they were on an even keel with those of the cities and villages, they found their place in civilization easily enough.

Which was all to the good, because I had another worry hanging over my head. I knew that Torm, if or when he eventually discovered who it was that had set off the events of Tormfall would not be forgiving. His agents would come for me, eventually. My friends had similar thoughts, which is why they remained in Frostreach, each promoting their own patron deities in their own way, but always staying ready for action.

And it wasn’t just a deity’s vengeance I had to worry about. Or, rather, the vengeance wasn’t the entirety of my worry. For four lines of six in the prophecy that had spread about the world four years ago had now come true. Which meant that the other two were likely coming due.

Upon the day prey kills predator, two sisters shall bring forth the dawn of evil and the rise of a new god.

Upon the day the brother becomes the father, a duel shall bring forth a new kingdom.

Upon the day siblings rival, a suspicious accident shall bring forth an age of inhumanity and justice.

Upon the day the world turns to winter, a forced marriage shall mark a cursed age and the return of monsters.

Upon the day that the sister becomes the mother, the dark one shall cause the downfall of two kingdoms.

Upon the day that fire comes to the sea of ice, a woman with golden hair shall bring about the death of a god.

That was how the prophecy went. A sudden onset of permanent winter in the southlands allowed a dragon to force a marriage with the princess of a neighboring land, bringing monsters rampage and rule in that land. The elven queen’s sudden death, and the rivalry between two sisters that followed, caused tragedy in the Silverwood, forcing many innocents to be put to the sword to keep the corruption from spreading. But justice was done, and order restored.

And, just before I declared my reign, I fought a duel upon the same day that a sister gave birth to her brother’s child. My kingdom rose, and the lands of both Thedra and Izrail were reduced to ruin, their kingdoms falling in the course of a day. Though there was some contention that the new Silvermoon Empire was the ‘new kingdom’ that rose, since my kingdom was not declared until a bit later.

Either way, I was at the heart of the prophecy so far. Worse, I was a woman with golden hair who lived near the Great Glacier, which was a sea of ice if ever I heard of one, and I had a god who was angry at me. And if a mortal defeating a god could not be called the prey killing a predator, I knew of nothing else that would qualify.

So, it was not surprising when I heard, through my spymistress, that there were riders out in the northlands, seeking a person of my description. Especially when they looked to be otherworldly, as though they were from the planes, and merely hiding underneath a glamour. Clearly, Torm had sent his agents to try and find me, and my friends, since normal divinations would not work to find us thanks to our protections. What was surprising, however, was when one of those agents made their way to Trenia, and asked to speak with me, by name, even going so far as to promise she would cause no harm to myself or my subjects whilst in my domain.

So, obviously, I summoned her to my palace, so that we could speak.