Haziel’s heart pounded in her chest. She pulled Father Donovan along as the chill from the creeping frost seeped deeper through her skin. Her breath came in short, sharp puffs, each exhale visible in the freezing air.
The corridor stretched out before them, shadows lengthening as they hurried forward. The weight of fear pressed down on Haziel, but she refused to let it slow her down. But soon, she rounded a corner and pushed open a heavy wooden door, heart filled with the desperate hope of finding refuge or perhaps other survivors. I really hope the kids are ok.
Yet, as soon as she stepped inside, her breath caught in her throat, and the world felt like it tilted beneath her feet. What… is this?
Several nuns and children stood frozen in place, encased in ice that glittered cruelly in the dim light. The ice was not the delicate frost that had once adorned the monastery windows; it was thick, pale, and merciless, covering every inch of their bodies with a smooth sheen. They were trapped in mid-motion, eyes wide and lifeless, as if they had been caught in the grip of terror in their final moments.
The ice was so clear, so glass-like, that it seemed almost surreal, as though the scene had been carved from the coldest crystal. It captured every detail: how a nun’s hand was outstretched, as if reaching for help that would never come, the tear frozen on a child’s cheek, glistening like a jewel in the harsh light.
Haziel felt her stomach twist with horror, struggling to process the scene before her. The cold was oppressive, pressing down on her, and she could feel it creeping into her soul. This is… too much.
Haziel's hand flew to her mouth as she staggered back. These were the same children she had seen laughing and celebrating just moments ago, the same nuns who had comforted and cared for them. Now, they were frozen statues, lives extinguished and encased in an unyielding tomb of ice.
She turned away abruptly, bile rising in her throat, the bitter taste of fear burning in her mouth. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she instinctively reached for Father Donovan, her only thought to drag him out of this nightmare and away from the creeping frost that had claimed so many. But as she tugged on his arm, she felt an unexpected resistance, a terrible, unyielding force that stopped her cold.
Haziel’s gaze dropped to the ground as she took in the sight before her. Father Donovan’s legs were already encased in ice. The frost was spreading rapidly, its cold tendrils winding around his thighs, locking him in place as it climbed higher, inch by inch.
“No!” Haziel said, tightening her grip on his arm. “Father, I can save you. We have to move, we have to get out of here!”
But even as she spoke, the ice moved too quickly. It crept higher, consuming everything in its path with a merciless chill. Father Donovan’s legs were already imprisoned in the freezing vice, the ice climbing steadily upward, encasing him in its deadly embrace.
He reached out and clasped her hand with his own. Despite the numbing chill, there was a warmth in his touch that almost transcended the physical. “Sister Haziel. There’s no time. My time is up. You must go.”
Haziel shook her head, tears welling in her eyes, blurring her vision as she desperately tried to pull him free. “No, I won’t leave you! I can’t!”
The ice had reached his chest now, creeping ever closer to his heart. He looked at her, his eyes softening with a mix of sorrow and pride, a gentle smile touching his lips despite the harshness of his situation. “You must, the world… needs you.”
Father Donovan's lips barely moved as he whispered his final words, the sound barely audible over the crackling of the encroaching ice. “I’m… proud… of you…”
His words were cut off as the ice solidified around his mouth and eyes, freezing him in mid-sentence. Haziel stared in horror as Father Donovan was transformed into another frozen statue, hand still clasped around hers.
A sob caught in her throat, but she forced herself to let go of his icy hand. She turned away, tears streaming down her face, and ran. She fled down the corridors of the monastery, the once familiar walls now a maze of shadows and creeping frost. The cold bit at her heels, but she pushed forward, refusing to let it claim her as it had the others. I just need to leave this place.
She burst through the monastery’s heavy wooden doors and out into the open air, only to stop dead in her tracks. The world outside was a swirling maelstrom of white. Snow whipped through the air in a relentless blizzard, the wind howling like a banshee. But it wasn’t the storm that stopped her; it was the figure standing in the midst of it.
A woman stood at the center of the storm, commanding an otherworldly presence. Her eyes were like twin orbs of silvery light, luminous and devoid of any warmth or emotion. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, glowing faintly against the backdrop of the blizzard.
She wore a gown as white as the snow, blending seamlessly with the raging storm around her. Her white hair reached only to her shoulders, and from her forehead jutted two antlers made entirely of ice, glinting with an eerie light.
Haziel felt a chill deeper than any she had felt before, one that reached into her very soul. Despite this, she steeled herself and called out over the howling wind, “Are you the one who did all this?”
The woman’s gaze shifted to Haziel, her expression cold and detached, as if she were looking at something insignificant. “I am, the question is, what are you going to do about it?”
In an instant, the sky above split open with a deafening roar. The heavens themselves trembled as a massive bolt of red lightning tore through the clouds, a jagged spear of raw energy that struck Haziel with blinding force.
Pain and power surged through her in a violent torrent, overwhelming her senses, flooding every fiber of her being with a primal energy. The shock of it jolted her to the core, the electricity coursing through her veins like liquid fire.
When the searing light finally faded, Haziel found herself hovering in midair, her wings unfurled in a glorious display of power. They glowed with an intense red light, each feather humming with the residual energy of the lightning that had struck her. She was clad in brilliant red armor, the metal shining like freshly forged steel, pulsing with the same crackling energy that coursed through her. She gripped a sword in each hand, the twin blades sparking and crackling with the red lightning that had infused her.
The fear that had gripped her moments before was gone, burned away by the fierce determination that now surged through her. Her eyes locked onto the woman below. Hatred and resolve burned in her gaze as she spoke. “I’m going to kill you, here and now.”
The woman smiled. "Do try your best."
The raw energy coursing through Haziel's veins urged her forward, wings beating with such force that they sent ripples through the stormy sky. She descended upon the woman with blinding speed, her twin blades poised to strike.
Soon, the angel plunged her swords into the woman's chest and stomach. The blades sliced through the air with deadly accuracy, but instead of meeting the resistance of flesh and bone, Haziel felt her weapons pass through nothingness.
Her eyes widened in shock as the woman’s form shimmered, her outline wavering like a mirage before dissolving into mist that swirled and dissipated, leaving Haziel’s swords to swing uselessly through the empty space. What just happened?
A cold laugh echoed through the storm, chilling Haziel more than the icy winds ever could. She spun around, only to find the woman standing behind her, untouched and unfazed. "I find you quite interesting, we should talk."
Without hesitation, Haziel lunged at her again. But once again, the woman’s form dissipated into fine snow that quickly turned to mist.
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The woman’s voice drifted through the blizzard, tinged with a mocking curiosity. "Care to explain why an angel like yourself is staying with humans?" She appeared casually at the edge of Haziel’s vision, walking slowly as if this were nothing more than a leisurely stroll.
Haziel hesitated, her grip tightening on her swords. She kept her silence, her gaze never leaving the woman, who simply sighed and shook her head in mild disappointment.
"Are you really just going to stay quiet?" the woman asked.
Haziel’s resolve hardened. She shot upward, wings propelling her into the sky as she scanned the ground below. The storm raged on, but Haziel’s focus was sharp, eyes searching for any sign of the woman’s true location.
Then she spotted it: just a faint silhouette behind a frost-covered tree, almost hidden by the blizzard. Without a second thought, she dove down with her swords raised, and drove them through the bark and into the woman hiding behind it.
This time, she felt the satisfying resistance of flesh yielding to her blades, the crunch of bone and sinew as they pierced through. The woman gasped, her expression faltering for the first time as she stared down at the swords embedded in her body. Yet, despite it all, she remained completely calm.
"Why won't you just die?" Haziel snarled.
The woman’s response was a faint smile that barely touched her lips. “You should check your swords.”
Haziel’s gaze snapped down to her weapons, and her breath caught in her throat. The red lightning that once crackled with fierce energy around the blades was now encased in a rapidly spreading layer of ice. The frost crept along them with an unnatural speed, devouring the vibrant energy until it was smothered entirely. This shouldn't even be possible!
Panic surged through Haziel as she watched the ice overtake her swords, freezing them solid before she could even react. With a sharp intake of breath, the angel released her grip, fingers numb with the shock of what she was witnessing. She pulled her hands back just in time, the ice crawling up the hilts, reaching for her, but missing by mere inches.
Taking cautious steps back, Haziel’s eyes flickered between the frozen swords and the woman who had so effortlessly disarmed her. The cold seeped into Haziel’s bones, but it was the woman’s calm demeanor that sent a shiver down her spine.
“What in the world are you? And why are you here?” Haziel demanded.
In response, icy vines erupted from the ground, snaking around the frozen swords and pulling them into the earth as if they were reclaiming what belonged to the frost. The woman stepped away from the tree, her wounds already closing as her flesh knitted back together with eerie speed. She walked toward Haziel with an air of unshakable confidence.
"I am Amaryllis, an elder dryad, and the essence of Winter incarnate."
Haziel's eyes narrowed. "You’re nothing more than a heartless monster who kills innocents."
Amaryllis didn’t flinch at the insult. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her silvery eyes gleaming with a cold, unreadable light. "Such venom. But tell me, why does an angel, one meant to be a being of purity and light, choose to live among humans? Why forsake your own kind?"
Haziel clenched her fists, wings beating with an agitated energy that crackled with red lightning. "That’s none of your business," she spat, and with a burst of determination, she launched herself at Amaryllis, aiming to strike her down.
But as she tried to move, she felt a sudden, immobilizing cold wrap around her feet. She looked down in horror to see icy vines coiling up from the ground, binding her feet in place and freezing them solid.
Amaryllis watched with a faint, almost bored smile as Haziel struggled against her icy restraints. With a casual wave of her hand, she conjured a small, smooth boulder made of pure ice and gracefully sat down upon it. "It seems you’re not going anywhere, angel. But don’t worry, I’m not in a hurry. I’ve done so much already."
Haziel gritted her teeth. "You’re the one responsible for this endless winter, aren’t you?"
Amaryllis nodded without hesitation. "Yes. The long winter is my doing. It’s been quite the endeavor, spreading my influence across this land, freezing everything in my path."
Haziel’s heart sank at the confirmation, though it was what she had expected. "Why? Why would you do this? What do you gain from causing so much suffering?"
"It’s not about gain, at least not in the way you might think. It’s about balance, about returning the world to a state of purity. But I find it curious that an angel would concern herself with human suffering. You angels aren’t supposed to linger here, not unless you’ve been… exiled."
Haziel’s expression faltered for a moment, her wings drooping slightly as Amaryllis’s words cut deeper than she cared to admit. She looked down, the icy vines still holding her in place, and took a steadying breath. "I made a vow, I renounced violence and chose to live in peace, among the humans. I thought…I thought I could do more good that way."
Amaryllis laughed. "How noble. And yet, look where that vow has brought you. Had you not renounced violence and isolated yourself in that monastery, perhaps you could have prevented this winter, stopped me dead in my tracks."
Haziel’s eyes snapped back up.. "So you’re just here to gloat after killing the people I care about?"
Amaryllis shook her head slowly, her smile fading as she met Haziel’s gaze with a more serious expression. "No. While gloating has been…entertaining, that’s not the only reason I’m here. I came to seek perspective. You see, I don’t often get to speak with angels, especially those who have chosen a path so different from what is expected. I’m curious about your choices, your reasons."
Haziel stared at her, the woman before her a paradox of power and curiosity. She didn’t know whether to be furious or to pity this being who wielded such devastation yet sought understanding from her, of all people. "Perspective? You freeze the entire continent and then come to me for perspective?"
Amaryllis sighed, the sound almost human in its weariness, despite the cold detachment in her eyes. "I can reverse the damage I've done to the monastery. In fact, I can bring those humans you care for so deeply back to life, but only if you answer my questions."
"How can I trust your word? What assurance do I have that you’ll keep your promise?"
"Trust is a luxury you don’t have, angel, but understand this: I am the only one capable of undoing the damage, of saving those people you care about. You may not trust me, but you have no other choice."
Haziel looked down at the icy vines still holding her in place, the cold biting into her flesh. She thought of Father Donovan, of the children and nuns, their lives frozen in a cruel parody of life, and felt the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders.
Reluctantly, she nodded. "Fine, I’ll answer your questions. But if you’re lying…"
Amaryllis waved a hand dismissively. "I have no need to lie. Now, tell me, what do you think of humans? Of this world they inhabit?"
Haziel blinked, the question catching her off guard. She had expected something more direct, more tied to the devastation around them. "Humans are…complex. They’re capable of great kindness, but also great cruelty. They’re fragile, yet resilient. They’re constantly struggling, trying to make sense of a world that often seems indifferent to them."
Amaryllis listened intently, her silvery eyes locked onto Haziel’s, absorbing every word. "And what about this world? Do you think it was meant for them?"
"The world isn’t kind or unkind, it simply is. Humans navigate it as best they can, just like every other creature."
"And yet, humans believe themselves to be its masters, don’t they? They bend the earth to their will, carve out cities, and wage wars over the land just like the other mortal races. Do you think they’re deserving of this world?"
"Deserving or not, they’re part of it. They have as much right to be here as any other being."
"And what about you, angel? Do you truly believe they won’t betray you one day? That they won’t turn on you the moment it suits them?"
Haziel laughed, a sound that echoed through the cold, desolate landscape. It was a bitter, hollow laugh, filled with defiance. "I've heard people like you talk before, you think you know everything, that you understand the nature of humans and angels alike. But I’m not here to entertain your cynical views"
Amaryllis’s expression remained unreadable as she slowly stood up from her icy rock. "Fair enough."
She approached Haziel with a deliberate, measured pace, each step sending a wave of cold dread washing over the angel. Haziel’s bravado faltered as a sense of impending doom settled in her chest, heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come.
When Amaryllis came closer, more icy vines erupted from the ground, wrapping around Haziel’s body and pulling her wings tight against her back. The cold was unbearable, seeping into her very bones, numbing her to the core.
Amaryllis reached out, hovering a hand just above Haziel’s forehead. The angel's breath caught in her throat as she felt a searing cold emanating from the dryad’s fingertips, a chill that was more than just physical.
For a moment, Haziel saw something in Amaryllis's eyes that she couldn’t quite place: something ancient and unfathomable, a depth of experience and power that far surpassed her own. "Since you love humans so much, I won’t kill you."
Haziel’s eyes widened as she felt Amaryllis’s hand finally make contact with her forehead. A bright light began to emanate from her fingertips, a blinding, searing light.
"Instead," Amaryllis continued, "I’ll freeze you, entomb you in ice for thousands of years, where you can remain undisturbed, locked away in the cold embrace of winter. When you are found again, if you are ever found, the humans you care so deeply for will have long forgotten you. Your sacrifice, your love, it will all be nothing more than a distant memory."
Haziel’s vision blurred as the light from Amaryllis’s hand intensified. She felt the cold spreading through her body, solidifying around her, locking her in place.
A massive pillar of ice erupted from the ground, engulfing the angel in its crystalline embrace. The cold was absolute, freezing her in an instant, her wings, her body, her very soul trapped within the icy prison. The last thing she saw was the expression on Amaryllis’s face: calm, serene, and utterly devoid of mercy.