The Frostbite Pass was a frozen graveyard of a valley, its jagged cliffs and snow-buried crags serving as a natural border between the Kingdom of Dawn and the Kingdom of Britannia. The wind howled like a dying beast, carrying flurries of ice and snow that obscured the vision of any who dared to cross.
In the center of the pass, a massive, fur-lined pavilion had been erected—a neutral ground for the proposed peace summit. The banners of the Kingdom of Dawn fluttered violently in the wind, their frost-wolf sigils barely visible against the whiteout.
Inside the pavilion, King Bjorn "The Frost-Blooded" sat on a heavy wooden throne, his massive ten-foot frame wrapped in thick furs. The slave rune pulsed faintly beneath the skin of his forehead, invisible to the naked eye.
Hidden within Bjorn's own shadow, Kael waited. The Shadow Veil wrapped around him like a second skin, erasing his presence entirely.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
