Legs hanging over a cliff hundreds of feet tall, she sat down on a precarious edge, stiff with cold.
Avarosa clutched at her down coat, fingers balled up into fists and buried deep into the warm fur of her jacket. Her fingers refused to move from her spots, and she had to peel them, one by one, away from her snowstained coat. She flexed her digits, splaying them out before curling them in. She looked at her fist, veins a dark, rich blue underneath her pale, translucent skin. She could imagine, in a few decades time, the smooth flawless skin on the back of her hand would have all withered up, creasing in an unsightful manner. Her joins would be rheumatic, swollen with cold. The tendons at the back of her hand would stand out, sharp and angled.
She shook her head. Not suitable thoughts for a 17-year-old to have, she thought to herself.
She stomped on the floor, causing the rapidly gathering snow to flutter in flakes around her winter boots, like a blizzard. She puffed up her cheeks and let the breath out, watching it mist in front of her, forming beautiful shapes.
When will they come?
She was considering making a snow angel when she heard crunching sounds from behind her. Crunching sounds that could only have been made from a boot on snow. She turned around to face a girl, suited up in a down coat of deepest, darkest blue, the colour of frozen lakes in the eternal winter. Her eyes were the shade of a bright blue sky, piercing through everything they see. Her hair was a golden trail behind her, loosely braided and almost entirely covered in snowflakes from the everyday blizzard.
"Lissandra," she said as she smiled warmly. "Come, sit," said Avarosa, patting the ground next to where she was seated.
"Thank you," Lissandra said, her voice soft and timid. At the age of 15, she had a beautiful, delicate face, with deep-set eyes and a slim figure. She stood almost taller than Avarosa herself. The smile that appeared in return was almost angelic on her pale face.
"So, this is it," Avarosa said, surveying the mountaintops in front of her. "Isn't it?"
The only reply was a stiff nod.
"Do you really believe it? We're going to be immortal? At this age..." she trailed off. "Isn't it simply amazing? Too good to believe! The power that we have, the power that we can hold, the power that we are going to hold..."
No response. But, Avarosa could see a slight change in her body posture. Lissandra's shoulders were pulled back, less hunched over.
So she believed in it, too.
Avarosa, content and at one with the world, lay on her back, and hummed gently. Although the wind drowned out most of her voice, Lissandra could catch every note of the melody. She saw her elder sister open her mouth and sing out one prolonged note, varying the pitch gently.
Lissandra closed her eyes. If she concentrated on it hard enough, she could almost hear the winds, rushing past, repeating the same melody into her ears and locking it there.
She opened her eyes, to see Avarosa standing up next to her, reaching out one slender hand to grasp her.
"Come, my dear sister. Let's go meet the Watchers."
Lissandra grasped her sister's fingers, cold and stiff. Turning back, she could hear the valleys whispering to her, singing a delicate hymn.
Lissandra, with an awe-inspiring and imposing figure at the mere age of 19, gazed upon the battlefield, to be streaked with smears of red... and blue, from her own people. She shook her head to clear that thought. That would never happen. She would make sure of it.
She looked at the creatures lined up behind her. In their attack stance, the Frozen Watchers stood, waiting patiently for their enemy to arrive.
Suddenly, without warning, a clear drumbeat rang through the valley, rumbling between the mountaintops. The drumbeat was followed by many others, resounding deep within her chest. The drumbeats came at a steady rate, followed by a clear note from a horn.
A feminine voice appeared, clear and crisp as if she was just standing next to Lissandra, singing into her ear. At the same time, the sounds made from pulling the strings of the ejon, an ancient Freljord instrument, were heard, clear as day, resonating within each and everyone. The Watchers looked at each other, apprehensive.
Lissandra balled up her fist. Avarosa.
Somewhere, a lone flute played in the background, as the first few specks of red dotted the horizon in front of her. Avarosa's tribe had finally arrived.
Lissandra approached the incoming tribe, to meet in the middle of the bridge. Meanwhile, the Avarosans burst into song, boosting their own morale and striking fear into the hearts of their opponents. Lissandra could feel a chill grasp her, from the navel upwards, along the side of her ribcage, and crawling into her heart. Nervousness.
The Watchers reached out a hand to grab her, warning her back. She raised one blue, frosted finger, warning them back.
Stepping out, she could see Avarosa in plain sight, white hair set against her light blue robes, with an sapphire crown to match. A bow, slung over her shoulder, glinted in the darkness. She walked with a composed, almost confident lilt. A royal smile covered her face.
Finally, the two met. The Avarosans hung back, like the Watchers. Avarosa sang the last few notes of the song into her ear, her cold breath brushing against her cheek.
"Lissandra," she said, smiling; however, this smile was icy cold, not the one she had given almost 4 years ago. Lissandra was slightly taken aback, but calmly returned the smile with one of her trademark killer grins.
"It's been a long, long time. I hope you've been well," Avarosa said, each word dripping with venom, wishing that she wasn't well at all.
"From me to you, too." They locked gazes. Neither side wanted to turn away first.
Avarosa tilted her head sideways, brow furrowing, a curious stare on her face. "Appease me, sister, but I never knew you were the power-seeking type. Care to tell me more?"
Lissandra balled her other fist. "Let's just put it as I have new acquaintances and have reset my priorities, shall we? You know perfectly well what I mean," she flared, as Avarosa continued cocking her head to one side, pretending to be genuinely curious. They locked gazes for a moment more, before both of them broke the stare at the same time, to glance back at their tribe.
"So..." they both started.
"So." Avarosa's voice no longer held any pretense of warmth; it was waves of chill and death. "This ends here."
"Agreed." Lissandra nodded her head, as Avarosa slung back her bow and loaded it with the first arrow of True Ice from her sheath. Lissandra herself conjured a shard of True Ice with the power of her enlightened mind, levitating it above her palm with the magic of the Watchers.
As both Watchers and Avarosans ran towards each other with the sound of a battle cry, Avarosa hummed gently, once more, such that only Lissandra could hear. Lissandra's heart instinctively told her to join in, but her mind silenced that thought. They were on the different side now. Avarosa gradually lowered her eyelids, tilting her head back, and raised her hands to her sides.
Lissandra took the chance, hurling the shard of True Ice at her worst enemy, her most hated foe, her sister. In that instant, Avarosa's eyes flew open, and in one swift movement, she blocked the shard with her bow, and returning fire with her bows. Lissandra had barely managed to duck out of the way of the volley of arrows.
The field was soon thick with snow. Vision was heavily obstructed due to the raging of a full blizzard. As Lissandra picked her way through to her people, she heard a horrible gurgling noise just in front of her. As she crossed the last few feet, an ear-splitting scream rang throughout the abyss. The floor was stained with navy blue ichor, profusely leaking out from a wound that punctured one of the Watchers.
No, this can't be happening. I refuse to believe it.
No!
But it was happening. All around her, she could hear the blood of the Watchers staining the pure white snow indigo. The thudding of the bodies of Watchers as their lifeless bodies hit the ground. Her eyes burned blue with cold fury, but there was nothing she could do. The rest of the Watchers, still out of harm's way, ran away for fear of retribution from the Avarosans. She had to run alongside them.
Just before she left the scene, she turned back and glanced at the abyss behind her. Majority of the Avarosans were cheering. They won the stand-off in a pitifully short amount of time, with heavy casualties to the Watchers. In fact, everyone was celebrating, except for one. Avarosa. Her melancholy gaze swept up, and through the hundreds of yards that now separated their two pairs of eyes, they met.
Without breaking the contact, Lissandra hummed her own, darker rendition of the tune, ending off the song on a calm note.
I will be back. Just wait and see, she said as she disappeared beyond the horizon and out of sight.
On the other side of the field, Avarosa, standing frozen in space, somehow managed to catch her melody and her message.
"What is it, my dear Queen?" Her stillness had attracted one faithful henchman.
She waved her hand in a calming gesture. "It was nothing, nothing to be worried about."
As the henchman left, she mouthed Lissandra's last words, and a chill couldn't help but crawl up her spine.
"I will be back."
"Just wait and see."
Five assassins in black garb lay dead on the floor, each with an arrow of True Ice through the throat. Blood poured out in torrents, staining the snow of Freljord crimson.
Ashe lowered her bow and huffed out the breath that she had been holding. She approached the cain once more, gently fondling the incisions of the rune that were inscribed on the stone. As she placed one cold finger on the curve of the stone, the markings glowed light blue.
At once, she heard ancient murmurs. The spirit of Avarosa was telling her a story, for her ears only. She sat on the same spot for ages and ages, listening from start to end.
Her tribesmen, getting annoying at waiting for a story they could not hear, turned to leave, but were suddenly surrounded by an eruption of music. Ashe turned towards the source of the music. Where had she heard this before? It felt like music that was already in her blood, waiting to be released and heard once more. Unknowingly for no apparent reason, she felt pride swelling within her. Pride for her clan, the Avarosan tribe.
A whirlwind suddenly raged and thrashed around Ashe, turning the sky in the clearing dark grey. An ominous version of the song started playing. At the end, just before the whirlwind cleared, she swore she could hear a voice whispering in her ear.
It said, "I will rise once more."
"The world will be buried in ice."
[Author's Note] - Hi everyone! It's good to be back posting fanfictions again. I feel alive. Unlike the past few months, where I have been dormant on this website, just reading.
By the way, I have been writing. Writing for quite some time now... I'm hoping that Chapter 5 of Moonshine could come out soon (I haven't given up on it yet), but exams like to stand in the way of my hopes and dreams. Also, I have plots and have started on writing two completely new fanfics! I'm full of ideas, but not full of time. Oh well, it's the summer holidays now! But I still am practically busy almost every other day ._.
I decided to write this piece as a tribute (I guess that's the right word) to Freljord music. I mean, the music when I load the launcher; when I listen to it, it really strikes me in the heart, and gives me 'delusions' of grandeur in an icy tundra. It's quite effective, and today, when I looked at the video "The Making Of Freljord Music", I was like, hey, why not write a little fanfiction on this? Just to clarify, the short story is split into three parts - the Three Sisters' Rise to Power, the stand-off at the Howling Abyss, and where Ashe gains her Frost Archer power.
Enjoy, and don't forget to rate and review! Thank you!