“I would like to exchange another story,” requested Nexus, and the Soul Weaver prepared himself, ready to begin his diversions.

“You know, I have only told you the tales of this new age, tales any common drunkard could recall after he has taken his fill of his usual medicine.”

Nexus lifted his head off the Soul Weavers lap, eyebrows slightly scrunched in confusion. “What are you intending to say?”

“Let me tell you a different tale,” prodded the Soul Weaver, “one for just you and I.”

“Why?”

“It’s a tale I have long pondered over, one I am quite connected to – in an intimate manner of the sort.”

"Why are you telling it?" Stated Nexus, brows still furrowed.

"Because I wish to share it with you," the Soul Weaver murmured, "I am very interested in knowing what you think of it."

"Why are you telling this to me?" Nexus emphasized, and the Soul Weaver bit the inside of his cheek, all too ready to rip all those "why, why, why's" out of Nexus's mouth. Carefully letting out an unsteady breath, he opted to respond, and bent down.

"Because I want to know what you think about." Stretching the words like a bundle of wool, the Soul Weaver plainly stated "I want to know more about you," putting his weight behind those opportunistic words.

Eyebrows furrowed, Nexus lay on the Soul Weaver’s lap in a manner one would only reserve for bed – arms crossed and with the posture befitting of an empress – as he stared up at the Soul Weaver's chest. He was likely reasoning with himself, trying to figure if this change fed into the flow of the beat he lived by. And it would. There would be nothing to acquiesce to (yet). Rejecting it would mean rejecting the Soul Weaver, and even if there wasn’t much to lose, a loss is still a loss. The Soul Weaver was aware of that and maybe that was also something Nexus knew – and would recoup later.

“Very well then, how does it start?” Nexus asked and the Soul Weaver responded. “With an explanation.”

" I do not know what this land we dwell in is called now, or how it has splintered, but the cardinal directions have always remained consistent -- north, south, east, and west -- two being more distinct than the others. If you chose a certain direction, either north or east, and stuck to it, you would eventually happen upon a cold barren wasteland or an tumultuous ocean ready to devour you whole."

"May I ask how --"

"And yes, I am aware the climate has changed, but we're going to get there," stated the Soul Weaver, already anticipating further inquiries. "I'll tell you about the last ruler of the north first, and then I'll tell you about the south."

"Why is it so important to know about them?"

"Because it's background. Is that acceptable? I'm establishing the setting and providing context," stressed the Soul Weaver. "We can talk about your thoughts later. After I finish. Is that alright?"

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"Yes."

And with further inquiries out of the way, the Soul Weaver begun spinning his tale.

The Tale of Two Siblings:

There were once two siblings. Whether they were brother and brother, sister and sister, or sister and brother does not matter, just what became of them.

The elder was nobility, the heir to a great fortune and the younger was a bastard, born of their deceased father's lust and carelessness. Despite the younger’s parentage, the elder took them in and gave the younger sibling a place by the elder's side.

And despite all there was to worry about – and there was much that caused worry – they were happy together, and whenever the elder was free, they would go and hunt in the forests outside the castle.

The younger sibling was also a child of beauty, blessed with a face that attracted many, and the elder knew that, compelling the elder to keep the younger close to them, away from the attentions of malicious people.

The elder sibling was called many things: short sighted, foolish, deluded, or narrow minded, but nobody would have even considered the possibility of a god swooping down to snatch away the younger sibling. But the Winter King did just that. Frost and snow followed the Winter King, entrapping the entire land under his gaze, and the younger did not escape it.

The siblings had been walking around the forests that winter day. The elder had been foolish – dead certain nobody would try to harm their younger sibling – and only half heartedly admonished the younger whenever they wandered off, certain it was fine for them to let down their guard.

But just as the younger stepped outside of the elder’s sight the Winter King appeared and implored the younger to come with him. Frightened, the younger fled back to their sibling – a futile endeavor, really – and was swallowed by a snow storm just before they were able to grab their elder sibling's hand.

Abandoning all of their duties, the elder packed a bag and mounted a horse, heading north to the home of the Winter King. The elder sibling rode and rode until the horse dropped dead, and then walked the rest of the way, determined to save the younger sibling in time. But they were too late.

The younger had lost track of the passage of time after a while. They had sat in the palace of the Winter King for months, waiting for their sibling, but as the day of their wedding to the Winter King drew closer, they became more certain that the elder had been unable to find them, and resigned themself to their fate. But the visiting North Wind had pity on them, and blew a few whispers their way, revealing that a body had been found. Some travelers had happened upon a person buried in the snow, likely suffocated in an avalanche. Afterwards, the younger reprimanded themself for having so little faith in the elder, after all, that body could’ve been anybody's. But the more they learned the more devastated they became, and became the consort of the Winter King.

A few days later, they were directly approached by the North Wind who revealed that the Elder sibling had survived, and would soon reach the castle. Shocked, the younger fled the castle, and when the Winter King tried to stop them, the younger impaled the Winter King’s neck with a hair pin and fled even further north -- just as the elder approached the castle.

Spotting their younger sibling, the elder shouted with joy and ran after them, but the younger did not turn around.

The elder sibling ran and ran, begging the younger to come to them, but the younger sibling did not reply, and continued to run north, refusing to turn around.

The elder followed the younger for days, battered on all sides by the elements, but the younger sibling did not turn around, even as their beloved sibling quickly weakened.

The elder eventually succumbed to the elements and collapsed on the ground – dead. But even then, the younger sibling did not turn around.

Shocked by the coldness of the younger siblings' heart, the Empress of the Heavens made them the new Ruler of the Winter. And as soon after, the north was enveloped in a snowstorm -- one that would last for thousands of years.