Sorry for the delay of Traveler…this semester has basically screwed me over and I've had some personal issues that have kept me from writing. I hope to catch up over the summer and release at least three chapters to make up for my abysmal rate so far. If you've previously sent me a message (since February) and I haven't answered expect me to get on that next week.

This might not be what everyone was wanting but the idea wormed its way into my head and I needed to write. I hope everyone enjoys despite its shortness. Think of this chapter as a look into some ancient traditions that are probably better off forgotten…some of it's kind of weird and screwed up but I hope you keep reading. It's a lot darker than most things in the Traveler universe but it's a window to show that there's some screwed up stuff out there, especially before the advents of the Leagues and a more humane approach to the Legends.

Don't be too worried. I'm seriously overhyping this chapter's level of screwed-upness. There's just something at the end that's kind of weird.

The seafoam licked at Haukea's bare feet as she stood bare in the ice-encrusted waves. She was entirely exposed to the bitter cold of the elements save for a crown of jagged ice, adorned with two simple diamonds of frozen crystal spun into being by her predecessors. Winds howled and brushed against her skin lovingly, a reassuring bite that stung her to the bone.

Her acolytes surrounded her in a tight formation. Each faced inward to her, their backs to the crowd of thousands that had gathered her this day. Haukea dismissed the fearful rabble's looks of awe and worry – they were beneath her. They could judge and sneer all they wanted behind closed doors. What she did today was for them whether they like it or not. Death would come for them all without her hand to stay its coming.

Haukea allowed her breath to still. Her eyelids fell and her pale eyes became hidden from the world. Material sights had no use for her. Why would she mourn their loss when the Truth of the world could be unveiled with but a thought? Sight was but a poor substitute for the majesties she knew. In truth she pitied those who were blind to the mysteries.

Everything became clear. Her Acolytes shone brightly in the Sight, bathing the commoners in their shadow. It was a protective cloak for the uninitiated, a safeguard so that they would be given a haven as the elements came to bear.

Yet they still disappointed her…

Haukea wished to sneer in disgust at their lack of faith. She had shown them the way and they still lacked the resolve to follow it. They Believed, yet were too weak to embrace the truth of their people. None of their number could be counted on to follow her. They were soft. Weak. Warm.

Hers was a harsh path. She knew that well – the Walk of Winter would never be easy. Cold and ice were difficult companions but when embraced wholeheartedly they would never leave you. Their strength had become her own and she had used it to make the world as it should be.

She looked past her Acolytes. They were little more than observers. No, her focus should be on the Island itself. It was her home and so, so beautiful. Their Lord had returned and blessed their ungrateful people with his bounty: Blizzard and Snowstorm and Ice. Warmth that fostered weakness was banished with but a beat of her Lord's great wings, the sun hidden behind a veil of swirling white ushered in by his cry.

Ice had seeped into these islands. The Magikarp and Goldeen and Seel were driven to shore in their lust to find the Lord and bask in his glory. The people would take them for vast amounts of tools, skins, and meat they would never take otherwise. A vicious cycle she was all too happy to propagate. For all that long Winter took it would also give.

The priestess breathed once more. Icy air filled her lungs and sharpened her focus. Everything was clear now. The connection between her and her Lord grew strong and sharp as the vastness of the Lord's ancient mind delicately brushed her own. In an instant she could be consumed, her soul snuffed out and a small tendril of her Lord's own there in her stead.

She did not fear. Haukea welcomed the possibility…it would be her ultimate reward to take her place at the Lord's side for eternity, to have everything she was taken into the Blizzard Eternal.

But it was not her time yet. Her blood chilled and her eyes frosted as Winter suffused Haukea. Her body became so cold that the hard snow dancing down from the heavens burned with heat as it glued to her skin. The priestess embraced the pain – every brush of the snow and ice against her body made her connection to the Lord all the stronger. Only the crown shaped of Ice Eternal stayed as cold as she was.

It was time. Haukea reached out with herself and touched the world. The sea was overwritten with her soul and her own reality – the Lord's reality – supplanted what was. Ice covered the sea about her, locking the waves in place in but an instant. Frost fell from her nude body and spread about the acolytes in a lethal dance. They gasped as their breath was stolen away by Haukea's power.

The commoners standing on the beach and cliffs watched with a dozen different feelings splayed upon their faces. Mothers hid their children's eyes, young boys fell silent from their games and squabbles, and men watched on stonily. Naked fear was in every eye. They would never truly understand the necessity of this sacrifice…

She did not take pleasure as her Acolytes' breath froze in their chests. Their eyes became unseeing as the liquid within them was touched with Ice. Dark hair became brittle and hard, frosted with the essence of everything Haukea was. If touched it would shatter into a thousand shards. Skin hardened and paled, taking on a beautiful shine as the droplets of sea water covering their bodies turned hard and cold.

Haukea breathed once more. Ice crawled from the frozen waves and lovingly wrapped about the unmoving bodies of the Acolytes. Tendrils, guided by her will, split into numberless needles that pierced the skin and soul of her Acolytes. She felt all of their pain and all of their rapture. They needn't fear. This was a blessing.

Her Acolytes made her proud today. None bemoaned their fate as their bodies transmuted to living ice. In moments they had been trapped completely in the Ice given to her by their Lord. She had bound them in Ice inside out…those sculptures the artisans of their people were so fond of creating were but pale imitations of the perfection the Acolytes had become.

Sightless, deaf, dumb, and unfeeling save for the eternal cold that had claimed their entire being…Haukea could just barely keep the fires of envy in her chest at bay. She would never know that honor, though she embraced her own connection to her Lord wholeheartedly. It was unique in a way that these blessed souls could not know.

She removed herself from the material world and Saw with frozen eyes. Haukea herself stood out as a bastion of ice, a splinter of the Lord. Her Acolytes were pale imitations in spite of their blessed state. Their minds were still alive and warm, brimming with all those transient emotions that would give way to Ice as they accepted their connection to their Lord. They begged and pleaded to be released, screamed for mercy, but she paid them no heed. They knew better.

There was no place for mercy in the Long Winter.

The Acolytes had not died. They would not die. No, they would not be granted the release until her Lord once again came to their islands on his wings of snow and ice in ten years' time. They would not be ready to be released and join the Lord until then. It would be many years before they would know the Truth as she did. Their Aura had been given to Ice, however, and it was not a matter of if they would know that Truth.

Haukea would have smiled if she could have. She was happy to give the blind the chance to see with new eyes. The wind caressed her bare body once again, searing her with the blessed cold. Her Lord was pleased with her efforts…

Only one soul in the circle still bore the curse. Haukea could sense the terrible heat pulsing with every beat of her heart, a steady drum beat that rippled throughout the Ice. Her own skin, pale and hard as marble, would be burned terribly should she touch the young girl selected for this decade's ritual.

Come, child. Haukea spoke to the girl. She did not lower herself to words. She spoke in wind and snow and the frost that seared the blessed chosen's feet with its bite. Your destiny is at hand.

The girl did not hesitate as she stepped forward on bare feet. The sea, frozen to the sand they stood on, parted before her. She was naked like Haukea but garbed in a red robe that signified her sacred place in what was to come. Her breasts were circled in cloth embedded with gold. Perhaps at another time there would have been stares and hot gazes from the men attending but in this moment there was nothing in the world but the Lord and his servants.

Haukea couldn't deny the wisp of affection that traitorously warmed her soul. She Saw the girl's essence and could not help but admire this child who had seen only twenty winters. A warm past full of love and cheer – the girl's emotions ran hot as the fire-mountains far to the east. The Lords of Verity, Valor, and Acuity that rested far to the blessed North had favored the child well.

The girl had lived a good life. It was something Haukea had never known.

Her islands would be served well by this girl.

Behold! Haukea spread her frozen arms. The great Blizzard howling in the heavens heard her call and fell behind the priestess in vast clouds, a veritable wall of snow and ice held behind her in the shape of her Lord's wings. The frozen sea between her and the girl parted, exposing slick sand and stone shattered beneath Ice's presence.

The girl did not complain or hesitate. She took the final steps and prostrated before Haukea as she should. Haukea admired the blackness that had touched the girl's extremities. It was only the beginning.

Haukea allowed the girl to lay upon the frozen sand for some time. She did not falter beneath the cold kissing at her knees or elbows, but accepted it. The girl had the will for what was to come.

Rise!

And the girl did. The onlookers watched silently as they should. It was not their place to interrupt what was to come. Even they could appreciate the beauty of this. Haukea allowed her voice to reach them all – some shied away from the loving whip of the salt-heavy gusts or shifted at the grasp of ice upon their ankles but even more accepted her touch. It was their duty to their god.

You are to be blessed in the name of our Lord, the Long Winter and Ice Eternal. You are to submit to his Will and accept him as your Master. Daughter of Seafoam, will you give yourself for this island?

"I will," the girl chattered. Her lips were blue but her mind was sharp. Haukea would have smiled. The girl's body had already accepted its fate. Now the spirit had done the same.

Haukea looked upon the girl once more. Her Lord's gales and the harsh touch of the frost had rubbed the girl's skin raw. Perhaps the villagers and seafolk would say the girl's beauty had been marred. Haukea simply thought it had been enhanced by the Lord's touch. She would serve the Lord well.

Do you submit to eternal servitude?

"I do," the girl whispered. Her breath was faint. Her eyes flitted between the Acolytes frozen in perfection, their Aura grasping for the Chosen. They sought heat, life, and everything she was. But they would not have her. Haukea's reached out and brushed against the girl. Heat drained from her skin and her eyes narrowed to slits for protection.

Do you submit to the service of the Long Winter?

"I do."

Do you submit to Walk the Way of Winter?

"I do," came the gasp. Doubt warred in the Chosen's mind but it was too late. She belonged to the Lord now. Her skin blistered beneath the pressure of Haukea's will. It was time.

Rise, Chosen, and come to me. Your new life begins now.

The girl rose of her own volition. She struggled. Haukea allowed the Ice within her to flow and outstretch her limbs in welcome of the Chosen. Her new daughter stumbled to her, though relaxed as she was gathered lovingly in Haukea's frozen arms. The merest touch of Haukea burned the Chosen terribly, though the girl could do naught but accept the token of the priestess' love.

Haukea, filled with her Lord, looked adoringly on her newest child. The girl was beautiful as she was: limbs stiff with cold and black with frostbite, lips blue, and tears frozen forever onto her face. Her blood still ran hot, though, and it scalded Haukea as badly as her touch seared the girl. It did not matter. The Chosen was home and her hot blood would be chilled soon enough.

She raised the Chosen's face and stared deeply into her eyes. They were dark. Haukea could see the power that lay within, however – it was that power that had led the girl to be selected in the first place. Such potential in her newest child. Fear flashed naked, though a reverence at the sight of her new mother shone just as brightly.

It was time.

Haukea reached out. The Acolytes, crying and screaming and wailing, latched onto her. They went silent as her will supplanted their own. She shouldered all of their pain and fear. She had felt it before. It could not crack the Ice she had accepted into the core of her being.

The priestess accepted their burden. Despite their weakness they would be strong together, strong in the service of their new mistress. Haukea allowed her white eyes to open once more and she accepted the material touch of the world.

One of her white fingers brushed a strand of black hair out of the Chosen's eyes – a trail of frostbite followed the loving touch. Haukea tilted the Chosen's head up, allowed her fingers to frame the girl's face, and chastely pressed her frozen lips to the Chosen's.

Haukea imparted everything the Acolyte's were, their very Aura, into the Chosen through the kiss. She felt nothing but pride as the girl stiffened and screamed in her embrace, new tears leaking from her eyes and freezing just as quickly as they formed. Her body writhed and broke beneath Haukea's touch but she was held still by the arms of the priestess. Frozen waves reached at them yearningly, followed by small fingers outstretched from the Blizzard as they saw their Lord's newest servant.

The Chosen's scream never stopped even as the Blizzard embraced her. Her lips froze, more black now than blue, and her young body went hard and cold in the priestess' grip. Haukea grabbed the girl more tightly as the fiery heat of the blood pounding with every drumbeat of her heat slowed and became more bearable. Soon the girl would be frozen entirely…

There was but one more step. As the wave of Ice spread from the Chosen's lips and across her body, burning it blue and black and cold, Haukea imposed her Lord's will upon the frozen waves still surrounding the two of them. Adoration was plain in her eyes as she reverently placed the stone-hard body of the Chosen upon the newly formed altar. The girl just barely fit on the plain slab of ice. She was so small.

Her body was still warm. The Chosen's pulse was sluggish and flagging but had not yet given way. Haukea knew it would not for some time. That was the nature of this ritual. She still had a part to play.

Haukea straightened and looked upon her flock. O Children of Seafoam, look upon the Lord's wonders! Your Sister has given herself to the Lord for your sake and shall serve as your shield forevermore. You are safe! She is Blessed with Ice and the wisdom of Winter's Acolytes. Look upon her as you would the Long Winter. Her mortality is near lost and the blessing of Winter will soon take hold.

The blind and deaf and dumb looked on with a gaze that could only see the barest mysteries of what their sister was going through. They would never appreciate the beauty of the transformation, of the blood growing heavier and heavier and the Ice winding its way through the Chosen's being. Her physical changes were superficial – it was her very soul, the sum of her life and experiences and mind, that bore the true alterations.

She laid one last kiss upon her child's forehead. Her lips blackened the frozen skin and would mark the Chosen as Haukea's forevermore.

Haukea raised a white hand to the sky, beckoning to the Blizzard roaring its approval. Chips of ice whistled as they were pulled about her, nearly covering her body in glittering crystals as her Lord's power embraced her entirely. Inspiration struck, as it had every ten years for time immemorial, and she shaped Ice Incarnate into this universe, blessing the world with a pure expression of Ice.

This was the most sacred of Lord Winter's gifts. Only his most devoted would ever understand his nature to the point of bringing a tiny facet of his glory into their hands. Lord Winter's trust was hard-earned, but the gifts that accompanied it were immense. Haukea thanked her Lord and whispered a prayer to the Long Winter for his gift.

She relished the chance to look upon the Lord's Feather. It was as long as her arm and more perfect than anything this world would ever know. A delicate frame of the Ice Eternal, never-melting and perfectly clear, laid in her hand. Barbs flowed from the vane as an intricate network of crystals sharper than any knife. It froze her pale hand even further, branding her with rapturous cold that wracked her body with pleasure as immersed herself in the direct link to her Lord.

If only she could experience that feeling for the first time again. Haukea could still remember the feeling. But it was not time to be selfish. It was time to give the Chosen that same pleasure. The girl would never be the same.

As Summer passes, so does the mortality of your Sister.

Even the breathing of the islanders watching this sacred ritual stopped as Haukea lovingly slid the Feather into the Chosen's chest. The girl's heart pounded fearfully, struck into action by the pain, but it soon stopped. Her eyes shot open, violently white as Haukea's own with the essence of Ice, and her lips parted in a silent gasp.

As Winter comes, so does the new life of your Sister.

Haukea finally smiled with her cold lips. She grasped the Feather and slashed it across her own breast without a moment's hesitation. Her skin would turn away any blade but the Feather sliced the skin of her breast apart without any hint of resistance. The priestess shuddered at the sensation and closed her eyes. The Feather rejected the blood gushing from her wound – she was too impure to sully the Lord with her essence.

The Chosen had finally fallen still. Her transformation would soon begin in full. Ice had nearly claimed her now. Haukea gently pulled the girl's mouth to her breast and whispered to the Ice that had infused the Chosen's body. It leapt at her request and forced the girl to drink, gulping down the precious life. Haukea's blood was colder than any ice at the Feather's touch, though it steadfastly refused to freeze. It still flowed as though it were hot and full of warmth.

Her newest child finally had her fill. Haukea could feel the Change truly taking hold. She had never gone through the transformation but she had induced it in countless young women over the centuries of her service to Lord Winter. It was the greatest honor she could give the Chosen and her new daughters adored her for it. They would know true joy in the service of their Lord now.

Haukea paid no heed as the cut in her breast was glued together by Ice and quickly repaired. Her skin was little more than a canvas for her Lord. She would accept whatever wounds or healing he granted her for her service.

Her eyes watched raptly as her newest daughter's metamorphosis continued. The Chosen's skin was colored black as night as the blood within her, blessed with sacred Ice, circulated through her lifeless body and converted her into the form that would allow her to serve their Lord in full. Black hair found its color flushed away, replaced with a stark white. The ceremonial scarlet robe clung tightly to the Chosen's slim body and froze entirely to her skin – it would never be removed.

The Chosen's hands reached out as her blackened body was reanimated with the spark of Ice and the life of Haukea's blood. She wailed, a beautiful noise that carried across the frozen sea above the howl of the Blizzard and brought every man, woman, and child to their knees. Blood poured from their ears and they screamed back to the Chosen.

Haukea stood unaffected by the cry. She gathered her daughter in her arms and clasped the woman to her chest, giving the Chosen an embrace to soothe the residual pain. The Chosen would feel the sting of her frostbite forevermore, an aching pain that would saturate her bones and bring her eternally closer to understanding the nature of their Lord. A blessing, to be sure, but one that would take time for her child to acclimate to.

Quiet now, daughter. Haukea spoke to the Chosen with wind and ice and snow and the Chosen understood. She looked up with her face, the skin as smooth as it was in life but blackened perfectly by the frost. She was so beautiful. The priestess laid another loving kiss upon the Chosen's forehead. It was comfortably cold for both of them. Haukea wasn't burned by the heat of life and the Chosen would never be seared again by the mother's touch. Look upon your charges now.

The Chosen rose on shaky limbs. She was still burdened by the Acolytes' pain and knowledge but Haukea was glad to see she had not broken. Her gifts would be great indeed. Her Lord would be pleased with this addition, she was sure. Haukea could feel the greatness just waiting to be tapped. Ice had accepted her and the Chosen had accepted Ice in turn.

Bow! You stand before a Daughter of Winter! You have made a great sacrifice, Children of Seafoam, and that sacrifice will be paid back tenfold. She is your sword and your shield. She will take her place as your guardian so long as your covenant with Lord Winter stands!

Haukea allowed the Chosen to stand on her own. She was tall for one of Winter's Daughters. Most of the girls Haukea was given had seen no more than thirteen or fourteen winters. They were beautiful and talented, but few had done more than the barest explorations into their powers as humans.

She laid a hand on the Chosen's back. The snow-white hair crunched beneath her touch, though the Chosen instinctively leaned into Haukea's touch. Haukea looked at her daughter with pride. It was well worth the sacrifice of her Acolytes to create this marvel. The priestess took her place at the Chosen's side and smiled at the Chosen as the Daughter of Winter turned to regard her.

A token of our Lord's greatness. Haukea placed the Feather upon the Chosen's chest. The Chosen's eyes shone white as snow when the Feather's barbs cut through her dress and skin and embedded firmly within, attaching it to her for all eternity. In all your years you will never be alone, Daughter of Winter.

The youngest Daughter of Winter smiled and looked upon the thousands of prostrated humans before her. Haukea knew she would not remember any of them. Her Change would sear away the memories of her human self. A glimpse of remembrance would accompany certain humans, perhaps, but the Daughter would not linger on them for long.

She was a servant of Lord Winter, after all, and would be forevermore.

So…here's my random little bit of inspiration. Kind of random, I know, but I hope you enjoyed it! It's very different than anything else I've tackled before and I really liked writing it (even though I probably should've waited until after finals' week to actually work on it).

I was trying to be vague in the actual story and not use the word Jynx, but yeah, this is basically their origin. It's kind of dark but I thought it was a fitting creation story for a pokemon a lot of people regard as creepy. Plus it explains how it's so human-like in appearance…

Anyways, I once again hope you enjoyed and please review!