Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters belong to Sunrise, Sotsu, and Bandai. Original characters that appear in this story are my creative property.


The White Kingdom
by Waltz195

Prologue


A harsh, cold wind howled over the land, as the ghost white moon hung sorrowfully in the night sky. All was dark and silent, swathed in the blanket of the night. No stars shone in the inky blackness, but then again, they rarely ever did.

A lone figure of a man stood on the crest of a barren hill, gazing silently at the sky. The passing wind whipped his body with chilling vengeance, but he paid it no mind. Instead, he ran his gaze across the horizon, taking in the wide expanse of glowing white that stretched as far as the eye could see. His eyes narrowed as he noted the light scatter of barely visible campfires in the distance.

'They can hardly keep alive out here, much less farm this worthless, frozen mass...' he thought bitterly. 'They won't last another year.'

Cursing savagely, he turned and retreated down the hill, following the path he had used earlier. The wind suddenly picked up, whirling a mass of snow around his lean figure. As before, he ignored it. He was accustomed to the cold, having lived in it long enough to know there was no escaping it. It was everywhere.

A white blanket had been thrown over the land, casting it into an everlasting winter. What had once been fertile, green countryside was now a cold, white slab of ice. But it could not compare to the coldness he felt deep in his soul.

Fate had not treated his country well. But then, he didn't believe in fate. He cursed it.

It had been fate that brought this suffering to his kingdom and his people. It had been fate that allowed this endless winter, blanketing the land in snow, leaving it cold and useless. It had been fate that caused his whole life to shift in the balance, pitching him into an existence full of torment and misery.

And it had been fate that robbed him of the chance at finding happiness...and perhaps love.

Pausing at the door of his keep, the man turned back to the scene behind him. His cerulean eyes glinted dangerously, the coldness in their depths matching the frozen ground underneath his boots. The wind swayed past him, causing wisps of pale blond hair to caress his chilled skin.

Standing in the moonlight, he was the illusion of an ethereal being, pale and mysterious, as if he had been conjured from a dream. But, it was no dream that this silent figure came from.

Once again, he lifted his head and stared at the sky, infinite in its existence. Without the moon, his whole country would be nothing but an expanse of shadows and stark blackness. A reflection of his own misery.

'Fate truly is heartless indeed,' he thought, as he turned to his stronghold and disappeared inside.

The only evidence of his presence were his boot prints, which vanished instantly as a rush of frigid air whirled over the snowy earth. The night progressed slowly, as the white kingdom lay almost lifeless and still.

The only disturbance of this desolate slumber was the faint flickering of a pale star, barely visible in the dark, night sky.