Listen close, for this is a tale, a tale older than our little village, older than even the great kingdoms over the sea.
This is a tale of the Fae folk, of that fair and fearsome folk who live in step with the seasons.
Once upon a time, in a land of White crystal, in the land of cold Winter, there lived a Fae prince, and so sharp and deadly was his blades that few dared to challenge him, and many feared him.
But they feared the King more. For the King was as wicked and dark as the Fae folk can be.
The Prince, worried for his people, rallied them against the wicked King, leading them into battle.
But many of his people also sided with the King, so blinded by his power were they.
The Prince mourned for his lost people, but still he led his own forces against the King, for if the King were to defeat the Prince, then all the Winter Fae would be lost to the madness of the King.
In the midst of these long battles, which stretched on for centuries, there came a mortal woman, an Alfar of the northern tribes, who sought a way to defeat the King of Winter.
Her search led her to the Prince, who after a time, saw that they were alike in mind, and forged an alliance with her. As the years passed, the mortal woman found that she could not consider a life without the Prince, and the Prince, Fae as he was, found himself in the same quandary.
In secret, he gave to her a totem, a fragment of his own being, so that no matter where they were, they would always be together.
They found the truth behind the King's power, that he had contracted with an ancient being known as Tirnoch that blinded Fae with her power. The mortal woman confronted Tirnoch, wounding her grievously.
But Tirnoch dealt a blow just as deadly, and the mortal woman lived only long enough to return to her Prince, before she succumbed to death.
The Prince grieved, placing her upon the funeral pyre himself, and left the totem between her closed hands, for he wished that she would bear it into the otherworld, where all mortals go in death.
Time, as it is wont to do, passed, and the war between the Prince's Fae and the King's grew bitter and colder with each death dealt.
One day, a Fae of Summer came to the Prince, and spoke of a magic wrought in the west, beneath a tower of mighty stone. The gnomish folk, who delve deep into the old magics and blend it with their own knowledge had discovered a secret of life that had been unknown to the young races of Amalur.
It was said, the Summer Fae told the Prince, that their experiment had succeeded but that the corrupted Winter Fae had infiltrated and destroyed the tower and all inside.
The Prince, curious of such new things, asked the Summer Fae to investigate, for even if the tower was destroyed, something might be gained from the ruins. After all, if the gnomes had found a secret of life, what else might they have discovered?
The Summer Fae agreed and left the land of Winter eagerly, for the Summer Fae are not made to linger long in the realms of Winter.
The Prince's forces won and lost battle after battle, deadlocked with the forces of the King, and all the while strange stories of changing Fates came from across the sea.
The Prince took little notice of these stories as he was almost ever in battle, for his grief sharpened his anger and made fierce his blades on the battlefield.
And the day came when a stranger arrived on the shores of Winter as a great siege was broken upon the fortress at Mel Senshir. With that siege broken, the Prince's forces won a great victory against their corrupted brethren, and it was the evening after the battle, that the stranger came to the Prince with a proposal.
The stranger spoke of the power behind the King, of what had corrupted the Winter Fae, and so cast the land in chaos. The stranger offered to join their forces to his, that they might defeat the King together.
The Prince, suspicious of the stranger, who stood before him hooded and cloaked, their face hidden in shadow, demanded to know how they had found such information, for few save he and his lost love had known the truth.
The stranger, who watched him with golden eyes, pushed back her hood and declared that she knew the truth because she had found it, sought it out and died for it.
For the Prince saw his love standing before him again.
"How is such a thing possible?" he cried, for he had laid her body upon the pyre himself, and set the torch beneath, standing vigil throughout that long grief-stricken night.
"I do not know," said she, "I awoke in a tower of stone, with naught but your totem upon my breast and no memory of how I came thither."
The Prince, awestruck by this turn of Fate, embraced her, kissed her, and long was their idyll in the hollow of the Fae.
At last his love bid him farewell, for she could not stay. The being that had slain her once was weakened greatly, and she knew now how to slay it properly and end this war of the Fae that had stretched on for so long.
The Prince would have accompanied her, fought beside her in battle once more, but she hushed him gently. "You are a Prince of your people," she said, "you cannot abandon them for a mortal such as I. There are still battles to be fought, my love. I will come to you again, before we make our final push to the King."
The Prince could not argue against her but kissed her again. "Come back to me," he said, "my heart could not bear the loss of you, now that we have found each other."
His love smiled, kissed him and bade him farewell.
It was autumn when she came to him again, armed for war, clad in armor of Fae make and carrying a sword of gleaming silver.
With her allies and his army, they marched on the capital of the Winter Fae, defeating many a foe together.
The King of Winter soon found himself fighting the Prince, and such was their battle that the Fae around the two parted and avoided them, so fierce was their anger and rage.
The Prince's love, the mortal who wore a Fae totem at her breast, slipped beneath the castle along more secret paths, avoiding the battle for the more important task of slaying Tirnoch.
She found her in the deepest depths, surrounded by hideous creatures who wailed and shrieked.
But these did not frighten the woman, and she drew her sword and one-by-one the creatures lay dead at her feet.
She advanced to where Tir noch stood cackling at her.
"You may have slain me once," she called to Tirnoch, "But Fate has decided that I must live. And I will slay you this time!"
Tirnoch only laughed. Their battle shook the earth, made dark the skies, and even the Prince, who fought his own battle, paused to listen, fearful for his love's safety.
But the King, who recognized the sound for what it was, and knew his ally might be doomed, fought with renewed vigor for he would rather take his enemy with him than go down to death alone.
The Prince, tiring and at last seeing an opportunity to end the fighting, drove his blades deep into the King, wrenching them free with a scream of victory.
Hearing such a cry, the remaining Fae of the King's army scattered, fleeing before the Prince's vengeful warriors.
The Prince alone did not chase the fleeing Fae, turning his gaze to the castle, where he knew his love to be fighting her own battle.
It is said that Fae do not weep as we mortals do, but it is also said that the Prince cried tears of joy upon seeing his love come limping down the castle steps.
They kissed, embracing one another as if they could not bear to be apart ever again.
With the battle won, and the King dead, the Prince ascended the throne, becoming the High King of Winter. His love, mortal though she was, was the first to pledge allegiance to this new King of Winter.
But even joy and happiness cannot last forever...