A storm raged within Aoleria's heart. The strange pull she felt toward Zytherion on the battlefield haunted her. His words, laced with both threat and desire, echoed in her soul. And though she tried to deny it, some hidden part of her was undeniably drawn to him.
But one night, the truth emerged from the oldest archives of the palace. One of the White Dwarves brought forth an ancient inscription, sealed in crystal ice. It told of the massacre centuries ago—the night her family was slaughtered. The hand behind it was none other than Zytherion.
Her father, a king of winter, had tried to seal Zytherion's rising darkness. In retaliation, Zytherion had destroyed not only the king, but also the queen and Aoleria's young siblings. That massacre had shaped Aoleria's destiny, though she had never known it.
When she read the words, her heart shattered.
"I felt him… I was drawn to him…" she whispered, tears falling like shards of frost. "But my heart belongs to the murderer of my family…"
From that moment, her love turned into hatred. The attraction remained, but it had become a poisoned wound. This truth fueled her fury, and the war between them grew more violent. Aoleria now fought not only for her kingdom, but also for the vengeance owed to her bloodline.
For Zytherion, it was different.
He could not deny his desire for her. To keep her, he sank deeper into his own darkness, gathering more power, summoning more terror. His army swelled, and his soul rotted further.
Each time he met her icy gaze on the battlefield, his obsession grew.
"You will be mine, Aoleria…" he whispered into the void. "You will belong to me, or you will perish with your ice."
It was now an impossible love. Aoleria's memory of her family's blood chained her to hatred, while Zytherion's refusal to let go twisted him into something more monstrous than ever.
And so, their forbidden passion only served to ignite the endless war between ice and darkness.
A storm raged within Aoleria's heart. The strange pull she felt toward Zytherion on the battlefield haunted her. His words, laced with both threat and desire, echoed in her soul. And though she tried to deny it, some hidden part of her was undeniably drawn to him.
But one night, the truth emerged from the oldest archives of the palace. One of the White Dwarves brought forth an ancient inscription, sealed in crystal ice. It told of the massacre centuries ago—the night her family was slaughtered. The hand behind it was none other than Zytherion.
Her father, a king of winter, had tried to seal Zytherion's rising darkness. In retaliation, Zytherion had destroyed not only the king, but also the queen and Aoleria's young siblings. That massacre had shaped Aoleria's destiny, though she had never known it.
When she read the words, her heart shattered.
"I felt him… I was drawn to him…" she whispered, tears falling like shards of frost. "But my heart belongs to the murderer of my family…"
From that moment, her love turned into hatred. The attraction remained, but it had become a poisoned wound. This truth fueled her fury, and the war between them grew more violent. Aoleria now fought not only for her kingdom, but also for the vengeance owed to her bloodline.
For Zytherion, it was different.
He could not deny his desire for her. To keep her, he sank deeper into his own darkness, gathering more power, summoning more terror. His army swelled, and his soul rotted further.
Each time he met her icy gaze on the battlefield, his obsession grew.
"You will be mine, Aoleria…" he whispered into the void. "You will belong to me, or you will perish with your ice."
It was now an impossible love. Aoleria's memory of her family's blood chained her to hatred, while Zytherion's refusal to let go twisted him into something more monstrous than ever.
And so, their forbidden passion only served to ignite the endless war between ice and darkness.