Amaryllis stood atop the crumbled remnants of the castle's great hall, her tall, slender form wreathed in the icy majesty of winter. Ech breath from her lips a faint puff of crystalline vapor as her eyes locked onto the king before her.

The man slumped on his once-grand throne, blood pooling beneath him where the shaft of a massive icicle pierced his abdomen. His crown sat askew on his greying hair, its luster dimmed by splatters of crimson. He clutched the icy wound with trembling hands, breaths ragged and shallow,.

He thought he could stand against the season’s wrath. Foolish. They all think they can stop the great work. Amaryllis thought.

“You should have known, mortal, that resistance was futile."

“You think this... this victory makes you eternal,” the King rasped. “But you will fail. Winter always gives way... to spring.”

Amaryllis’s lips curled into a slow, cold smile. She tilted her head, the faint creak of icy antlers echoing in the ruinous hall. "Oh, you mortals. Always so certain in your defiance, even when your blood stains the stone and your time runs thin. Let us see how long that certainty lasts."

Extending a slender, bark-textured hand, she gestured toward the impaling icicle. Frost crackled along its jagged surface as her magic flared to life. The king gasped as the shard of ice shrank, receding from his flesh but leaving the wound raw and weeping. A lattice of frost wove itself over the injury, holding his life tenuously in place.

"W-what did you do to me?" The King asked.

"I simply extended your puny lifespan for a few more moment, so I can ask you a few questions."

Amaryllis lowered her hand and gazed at him. "Why do you think I will fail, when your kind lies in ruin? Every mortal kingdom lies buried under my snow. Yours was the last, and now you sit here, bleeding on a stolen throne. Enlighten me, King of Nothing."

The king coughed weakly, his blood-streaked lips curving into a faint, defiant smirk. "Because what you seek is impossible. Mortal life will continue in spite of your efforts, because our place in this world was given to us by the gods."

Amaryllis regarded him in silence for a long moment. A thin gust of icy wind stirred the ruined hall, sending loose snowflakes swirling between them. Then she laughed.

You think I cannot hunt down the remnants of your kind? I have already scoured your cities and fields. Your forests lie frozen, your mountains turned to glaciers. What few survivors remain will be found, and they will join the rest beneath my frost. The great work is done. All that remains is to sweep away the dust."

The king chuckled, a hollow, wheezing sound. "The 'great work,' you call it. But it’s nothing more than folly. You stand against the laws of nature itself, dryad. Even you, with all your power, cannot change that."

She stepped closer still, her towering form casting a shadow over the battered man. "You dare to lecture me on the laws of nature? I am nature’s wrath, mortal. I am the winter that scours the weak and tempers the strong. I am the cycle, the inevitability you cannot escape. Who are you to claim an understanding greater than mine?"

"You speak of cycles, but you break them with every frozen breath. Winter is meant to pass. Death is meant to feed life, not extinguish it entirely. You are not nature; you are an aberration."

Amaryllis’s antlers gleamed with an icy sheen as her power flared, the temperature in the room plummeting further. Snow began to fall through the gaping holes in the ceiling. An aberration? This worm dares to label me as unnatural?

"Foolish human, you speak of laws as though I am constrained by the petty cycles that govern your fragile existence. But I am the shaper of those cycles. I am winter eternal, and I will remake this world in my image."

"And that arrogance of yours is why you will fail, dryad."

Amaryllis’s gaze darkened, and the frost encircling the king thickened. For a moment, she considered dragging this out further, letting the pitiful human choke on his own bravado until his last, ragged breath.

But she had heard enough. This little talk was fun, but ultimately a waste of time.

She raised her hand and said, "Your hope is as brittle as your body, and like this dying world, it will shatter."

A jagged spear of frost shot through the King's chest, piercing his heart. His body convulsed, his defiant gaze frozen in place even as the life drained from him. Blood seeped out in dark rivulets, staining the snow-dusted floor. Another voice silenced, another fleeting life extinguished. It is the way of things.

Amaryllis turned from the corpse as she strode through the ruined throne room. She paused by a shattered window, peering out at the desolate expanse beyond. What had once been a bustling city, filled with mortal lives, now lay buried beneath an unbroken sheet of white. Quiet, as it should be.

Raising two fingers to her lips, she whistled. The earth trembled faintly beneath her feet, and from the distant horizon came a deep, rumbling roar.

Moments later, the air shifted, filled with the rush of massive wings cutting through the sky.A colossal frost wyrm descended, its translucent scales shimmering like a glacier under moonlight.

The wyrm let out a low, resonant growl that reverberated through the ruins as it lowered its head to her level, nudging her gently with its snout. Amaryllis allowed a faint smile to touch her lips and placed a hand on the wyrm’s head. "You’ve been patient, Talgoroth. The great work is nearly done."

Talgoroth huffed, sending a gust of icy air spiraling around her, and lowered himself further to allow her to mount. She climbed onto the wyrm’s broad back, settling into the ridge between his scaled neck and shoulders. Then, with a low command, Talgoroth took to the skies.

As they soared above the frozen landscape, Amaryllis surveyed the world she had wrought. Rivers had frozen solid, their once-lively waters stilled under her touch. Forests had been transformed into skeletal groves of ice, and cnce-thriving cities now stood as hollow husks. So much silence. It is beautiful. But is it truly complete?

The horizon soon shifted, and in the distance, she caught sight of movement: clusters of crude structures gathered at the base of a mountain. Her sharp eyes narrowed. This settlement was no ruin, no corpse of the mortal kingdoms she had laid to waste. Smoke coiled lazily from chimneys, and figures moved among the clustered huts. Life persists here.

She nudged Talgoroth’s flank lightly, and the frost wyrm roared in acknowledgment, tilting his great wings to descend. The settlement grew larger with each beat of his wings. As they approached, she saw the inhabitants clearly.

Orcs with green and grey skin hauled supplies across the snow. Goblins chattered among themselves, their misshapen faces alert. Trolls lumbered near the outskirts, their immense frames draped in hides. All stopped and turned their eyes skyward as Talgoroth’s shadow loomed over them.

Gasps and cries of awe rose from the crowd as the wyrm landed with a ground-shaking thud, his long, scaled body coiling protectively around Amaryllis. She dismounted gracefully, her frost-coated robes billowing as she touched the frozen earth.

The monsters fell silent, their gazes wide with reverence. "She has come," one of them whispered, a goblin clutching a staff adorned with bones. "The Frost Queen has come."

The gathered crowd knelt, their heads bowed in submission. An orc with broad shoulders and a scarred face approached cautiously, his hands raised in deference. "Great Lady of Winter. You honor us with your presence. You saved us from the tyranny of the mortal races, and we are forever your servants."

Amaryllis’s cold gaze swept over the crowd, taking in their worshipful expressions. "You owe me nothing, I merely removed those who sought to crush you under their heel. "

The crowd murmured among themselves, their awe undiminished. Many reached toward her as if seeking to touch the hem of her robes, though none dared approach too closely.

Yet, suddenly, a goblin woman stepped forward. She had a hunched form draped in tattered robes, and her gnarled fingers clutched a staff carved with intricate symbols. She stopped a short distance from Amaryllis with a piercing gaze. "Welcome to our humble village, dryad, the people here simply call me the Oracle."

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Amaryllis regarded the goblin with mild interest. "Speak, Oracle, what wisdom do you bring to your goddess of frost?"

The Oracle’s glowing eyes bore into Amaryllis. "Goddess, you say? You are no goddess, Amaryllis. You are a force, yes, but not divine. And for all your power, you remain trapped in the cycle you claim to shatter."

The crowd gasped, their reverent murmurs faltering. Talgoroth let out a low growl, his massive body shifting protectively, but Amaryllis raised a hand to silence him.

She stepped closer to the Oracle,. "Choose your next words wisely."

"You think you have broken the world, but it is the world that will break you. All things rise and fall, Amaryllis. Even winter yields to spring. Even frost melts under the sun. You may bury the remnants of life under your ice, but life will find a way to crawl back, no matter how deep the snow lies."

Ah, but you are wrong, Oracle. The great work is already done."

The Oracle leaned on her staff. "You cannot deny the essence of the world. Life endures because it must. And so, too, will your work crumble, just as the mortals crumbled before you."

Amaryllis tilted her head. "You speak as though you know the will of the world. But I am the world’s will. I am its wrath. You and your kind survive only because I allow it."

She turned, her robes sweeping the frozen ground as she strode back toward Talgoroth. The Winter Dryad mounted the wyrm, before looking down at the Oracle. "There is no cycle after this. Only winter, forevermore."

***

Years had passed since the frost had claimed the world. Amaryllis had believed that her work would earn her reward. Yet now, she could scarcely stand.

Her legs buckled beneath her with every trembling step, her once-graceful form reduced to crawling through the frost-laden expanse. Snow clung to her body, her once-glittering antlers dulled and jagged with cracks. Her breath came in shallow, rasping puffs that misted the air before her face. Why? Why am I forsaken? My work is done. Where is my reward?

Ahead, the colossal roots of the Spirit Tree rose like ancient titans, gnarled and frostbitten yet unyielding. The heart of her power, the wellspring from which her essence flowed, stood before her.

She dragged herself closer, fingers clawing at the frozen earth, leaving faint trails in the snow. Every pull of her arms felt heavier than the last, her strength slipping away with each movement.

When she reached the roots, her voice broke from her in a trembling plea. "Why? I gave everything. I carried out your will. I delivered the world into stillness. Why do I suffer now?"

The Spirit Tree gave no answer. Not even a breath of wind stirred its frost-encrusted branches above.

Amaryllis’s forehead fell against the rough bark, her body wracked with despair. I was your instrument. Was this all for nothing?

She clawed at the bark, fingers splintering against its unyielding surface. "Answer me!" she cried, her voice breaking like ice under strain. "You promised me eternity! You promised—" Her words faltered, her throat choking on the silence.

The frost that had once been her ally pressed against her like an oppressive weight. She could feel her essence slipping away, dissolving into the cold she had unleashed upon the world. I was wrong... even winter fades... even I fade.

Her trembling hand fell away from the Spirit Tree’s root as her strength gave out entirely. She slumped against the bark, her body sinking into the snow. The silence she had cherished now closed in around her, a suffocating void that swallowed her cries for answers.

The icy stillness of the Spirit Tree faded to black as Amaryllis’s body succumbed to exhaustion. For a long time, there was nothing, only emptiness.

Amaryllis had not expected to ever be able to see let alone feel again. Yet, she eventually felt… things, sensations, smells, things that made her want to awake.

When her senses stirred again, it was to a strange dampness against her skin and the faint, acrid scent of decay. Her eyelids felt heavy, crusted with frost that had melted into an unfamiliar wetness.

She forced them open, her vision blurring into a murky expanse. The frozen world she had wrought was gone. In its place was a desolate swamp, its waters dark and stagnant, coated with a slick film of rot.

Amaryllis pushed herself upright as she steadied herself on the spongy, decayed ground. Dead trees loomed around her, branches twisted and bare, dripping with blackened moss. Where am I? What is this place?

She crouched low, pressing her trembling fingers into the dirt. The soil crumbled into an ashen sludge, as if rotting away at her touch. Pulling back her hand, she rubbed the residue between her fingers. It disintegrated further, breaking apart into nothingness. Everything here seems to decay at a rapid pace… whatever this place is, it cannot be good.

She stepped cautiously forward, her movements tentative as she tested the ground. Beneath her feet, patches of moss shriveled as she walked, curling into brittle husks before crumbling into dust. The water in the swamp rippled faintly, though there was no wind. She knelt at its edge, brushing her fingers through the stagnant surface. The ripples she created dissolved into nothing, leaving the water still once more.

Amaryllis straightened and flexed her fingers, summoning the faint glow of frost magic into her palm. The cold energy sparked to life, weak and flickering, a pale shadow of its former brilliance. With a flick of her wrist, she tried to shape it into a shard of ice, but the frost resisted her will. The magic collapsed into a formless mist, dissipating into the oppressive air. This place is wrong. My magic... She clenched her fists, frustration boiling beneath her composure. It’s as though this swamp is devouring it.

She moved cautiously through the swamp looking over the decayed landscape. The trees stretched endlessly, their bark mottled with fungus and peeling like the skin of something long dead. Pools of stagnant water reflected the lifeless branches above, creating a disorienting, mirror-like effect. Her steps left faint trails in the rotting ground, which quickly closed behind her as though swallowing any trace of her existence.

As she pressed deeper into the mire, a faint shape caught her eye. A tree stood apart from the others, its bark carved into the visage of a woman. The face was rough and weathered, its hollow eyes staring outward, unblinking. Dark veins of rot threaded through the carving, creeping outward like cracks in a brittle facade.

The air grew heavier, and a low voice resonated through the swamp. "Amaryllis."

She froze, her gaze snapping to the tree. The carved visage shifted slightly, its features moving as though the bark itself had life. The lips parted, the voice flowing from them soft yet mocking.

"How do you know my name?" Amaryllis demanded, stepping closer.

The face chuckled, a sound like the creak of old wood bending under strain. "You do not need to know that. Only know that I am the envoy of the Long Death."

"The Long Death? Is this place the Long Death?"

"It is," the face replied, its lips twisting into a warped smile. "A realm beyond life and decay, where all that is forgotten comes to rot. And you are now a part of it."

Amaryllis stepped back, her fists clenching. "No. I will leave this place. Tell me how to escape."

The face laughed again. "Escape? There is no leaving the Long Death. The moment you collapsed at the Spirit Tree, your fate was sealed. Your work is done, and so are you."

"I am not done. Do you know who I am? I am the embodiment of winter, the one who silenced the world. I will not fall to nothingness so easily."

"But your time has passed. You have outlived your usefulness, Amaryllis, which means you no longer belong anywhere except here."

Fury surged in the Winter Dryad's chest, and she summoned a shard of ice to her palm. She hurled it toward the face in the bark. But as the shard neared its target, it crumbled. The ice withered mid-flight, breaking apart into lifeless droplets before it could strike.

The face grinned wider, the cracks on its surface deepening. "Perhaps, you should accept what you are now: another thing left to rot."

Amaryllis’s hand clenched, her icy aura flaring with renewed fury as she summoned another shard of frost into existence. This time, the ice glowed brighter, sharper, the cold radiating from it cracking the air itself. "I am not done!" she hissed.

She hurled the shard toward the grinning visage in the bark. But before it could strike, the ground beneath her shifted. Dark, gnarled roots shot up from the swamp, their slick surfaces dripping with black ichor.

They lashed through the air and wrapped around her limbs and torso before she could react. Then, they thrust her upward, twisting and tightening until they drove through her body like cruel spears.

Amaryllis gasped as black sap spilled from the corners of her mouth. What... is this?

The envoy’s voice rose in cruel laughter. "Did you think you could strike me down? Here? In the heart of the Long Death?"

Amaryllis’s vision blurred, but through the haze of pain, her mind sharpened. She coughed again, more black sap spilling from her lips as she fixed her gaze on the carved face. R Of course. How did I not see it before?

"I have done nothing but serve you, I was faithful to you, to the end. Everything I am, everything I have done, was for you."

"And I thank you for that, Amaryllis. Your service was exemplary, your dedication unmatched. But all good things must come to an end."

"Why? Why kill me now? After everything I’ve done, everything I’ve sacrificed, why this?"

The envoy’s tone turned almost languid, like the slow drip of rot consuming wood. "Because, my dear, you’ve done your work. The world has been silenced, and now, your time is over. You must disappear so that a new seed can take root. Such is the way of things."

"A new seed? You would cast me aside like a spent tool? Just like that?"

Her magic surged, raw and untamed, an avalanche of defiance unleashed from the core of her being. The swamp trembled beneath her, and the air around her grew colder with each passing second. Frost crept up the roots that bound her, spreading with relentless precision. The dark ichor froze solid, roots shattering with a deafening crack as she tore herself free.

Raising a trembling hand, Amaryllis unleashed a wave of cold that surged outward, freezing the swamp in an instant. The stagnant waters solidified into jagged, opaque ice, the gnarled trees encased in frost like frozen corpses.

The envoy’s visage in the tree cracked and fractured as frost spread over it, but the voice remained unshaken, its mocking tone echoing in the silence. "You cannot fight the inevitable, Amaryllis. This is the way of things."

Amaryllis stared down the frozen face of the envoy. "Mark my words… even if it takes me millennia, I will find a way to break free."