After the massacre of her family, Aoleria ascended to the throne. From that day, her eyes no longer held the radiant spark of youth, but the cold resolve of a ruler who had lost everything. She buried her love, her pain, and her inner turmoil deep within her heart. Her only purpose now was to protect her people and their values.
This sacrifice transformed her. The warmth within her gave way to a chilling strength. Slowly, she let go of her love and humanity, sealing herself in frost. She was no longer merely Aoleria—she became the Ice Queen.
Though her palace still shimmered with flowers and crystal walls, the blossoms had grown brittle, frozen under the weight of her heart's coldness. Her people revered her, for their survival rested on her unyielding will of ice.
Zytherion noticed this change.
To him, Aoleria remained a beacon of light—but now buried beneath layers of unbreakable frost. He became obsessed with reclaiming her heart, even as his own dominion began to crumble. His generals whispered of his weakness, for his obsession was consuming the dark lord himself.
On every battlefield, he sought her gaze, but where once he had glimpsed warmth, now he found only piercing cold.
"My Ice Queen…" he muttered into the void. "Deny me all you want—your throne and your heart will be mine."
Yet deep inside, he knew the truth: his love for her was not making him stronger, but tearing him apart. The more he reached for her, the more he betrayed his own darkness, his own dominion. He was caught between feeding his abyss and surrendering to the one soul who defied it.
This was the turning point. Aoleria had sacrificed love to become her people's shield, and Zytherion's refusal to let go dragged him deeper into ruin. Their paths were no longer bound by hope, but by obsession, sacrifice, and an impossible destiny.