On a bright sunday morning, a couple was given a blessing by the gods.
She had silvered hair, and her skin was bright white. Strange, for a new born. But her mother didn't care. Neither her father. And she grew strong, making every day's heaven for that sweet sweet couple.
But as she flowered, the cold winds would rise and rise upon their home, with the wrath of a white death's breath.
They never cared. They had fur and fire, and they had their precious silvered gift.
And she grew, and grew. Every day she drew a new breath of life, the winter would go harder and harder on the land. Once, there was singing and joy. Now, they were all alone, as life withered away silently.
Their silvered gift, they called her. And she was more and more silver, touched by the frosty snow. Her skin was milked white, and her eyes fierce and blue as the waters of the old dark sea.
And thus, went the years. The silvered gift basked on youth as everything around her withered away. Her father, once strong and well built, was now a shadow of a shell of what once was her father. And her mother was now a puny and frail figures, with dark circles around her hollowed eyes. Their smiles and warmth around her had all burned out to ashes. And they would sit by, as time wasted their breaths of life away.
And time passed, and then again. Until one day, adventurers from the dark sea found two bodies found in a house, frozen in terror. Frail shadows of what once was flesh and bone. They had dark and hollowed eyes, lost in the snow. A man and a woman.
Huldra was a peaceful place. But then, She came along. She, whose name's not for giggles. A tall, shiny woman, dressing the snow as her skin and carrying the old dark sea within her eyes. Her hair was bright as silver and sharp as finest sword on the land.
One day, She came, staring the land at the top of the hill. AS she gazed through that land, she drw the breath of life, and down came the snow. Bit by bit, life was driven out of every corner of Huldra. And till this very day, no life dares to grow where she sleeps. Where the cold winds rise and rise in wrath.
Huldra was only the first Iungan village taken by Ice Queen. But not the last, as she crossed the realm bringing about the Dietra Age. She covered the face of the Earth with ice and death. Now, all Iungan Kingdom was under her control.
She remained at the seats of Geumyrlia, nameless, and unmatched. No man or woman could touch her. No living thing could stand in her presence. She was the Lady of the Snow. She held the winter on her breath. And ice was her heart. A heart nothing could touch, nor dare to melt. And she never wanted for anything after bending the realm to its frozen knees.
Some told she had a voice so profound that even the bravest warrior would bend to his knees at her command.
And she built her home in the mountains, where the North Wind would rest from its journey and fiest in the flesh of frozen fools at her gardens, seeking adventure and perhaps a glance at the Lady of the Snow. None had ever achieved such goal. All they saw was white and silver, before feeling the blade of her hair crossing the threshold on their chest.