when the world was young and the wind was cold, where dragons and humans roam making their mark on the earth. There a kingdom thrived in the winding rivers of Archatel, for hundreds of years kings defended their place in the ancient world; guided by the Mystics.
On the night yr 456 b.c. Ater Port was attacked by iced dragons and their riders, these warriors are known for their stealth, stone cold face and blades clear as crystal.
The kingdom in the Archatel rivers are brought to their knees... women and children run the streets wailing and though the warriors fought with all their might, one by one they fall.
"Your highness, why don't you just give up... your people are scattered." laugh the assailant as the flash of the blade can be seen among the flames.
"No! As long as I'm breathing Never will I surrender!" the king replied as he launched for attack.
The sinister laughter echo through the king's throne as the enemy moves with the shadows, the king's soldiers defend as the king fought alongside.
"Your highness." begged the soldier, "leave for the future of the kingdom---
"No! A king with no subject is no king at all."
A flash of sword was seen, the assailant was wounded,
"All that for a pint of blood." he cough blood and still manages to force a menacing smile. "Today your kingdom dies with you!!!"
As the smoke rise with the flames, the swords dances to the deadliest beat, one would not give without a fight and the other doesn't hold back vengeance. Then as the walls crashed and the rivers flowed with blood that night, Archatel bid farewell to a great monarch who once ruled the world. And that sinister laugh fades with the snow, he was impaled by the spear.
"Your highness..." said a wounded warrior. "I'll carry you away from here and give you a proper burial---
"No, let me be buried with my people." the king said between heavy breathing."Go... and find winter Iris, high mountains of spear." He said as he hold tight to his warrior's mantle."Go!"