Now I know most people don't care about my girlfriend. In fact, I think almost no one reading this will give a damn about my personal relationship with her. However, I don't care what you think, what I'm about to write isn't for you! It's to express my feelings and make her happy. <3 If you're interested in my 'people who matter' list, go down farther.
You can't imagine what life was like for me before I met you. After everything I'd gone through I sincerely thought that I would never feel love again. I would sit in coffee shops writing or listening to music, lazily watching as couples walked by wondering how anyone could feel that way for someone else. I swear that loneliness was so painful that I gave up hope that I'd ever care again.
I'm not the sort of man that believes in fate, you know. I can be painfully logical, and while one thing always leads to another, the world often feels nothing short of random. But secretly... when no one is listening, I liked to hope that destiny exists. That somewhere out there my soulmate was wandering the world lost just I was. You did the impossible, Jillian.
You got me hoping.
You grabbed me like a man drifting through the open sea and despite overwhelming fear gave me the courage to hold on too. You made me want to believe again, not just that love was possible, but that I'd been searching for you all this time. I want to believe that everything that I am, from my body to my mind, were all created in the anticipation that it would lead to an eventuality... meeting you.
I can't tell the future, Jillian. I could be wrong about everything. All I know is that six years of emotional turmoil, nine years of social rejection, and four years of immense hate gave my mind a brutal edge. It gave me the aspiration to change the world. That's the sort of person your love awoke. And long as you continue to believe in me I'll never stop fighting for us. No man, no government, no mountain, no sea, and no act of god or heaven will keep me from you.
I love you... and I will reach you with these hands of mine. No matter what.
I'm updating my list of people who matter! In addition to the original four, two more are getting enshrined in my line of recognition! In order of left to right they're: Shade Nightz, Apocrypha Rising, Rei Rosse, Urainia, Kraeven, and Chers Etoile
Shade Nightz: You're probably the only person in my life I could fist bump and actually feel genuine about it. We've been friends off and on for years, but these past few you've really proved you're as reliable as they come. You're always there, you're always able to help, and you always keep my secrets. When we die I'll meet you in the afterlife, at the bar, I'm buying.
Apocrypha Rising: Dude, you're my best friend in real life and on the internet, you're easily tied with Shade. We've had our ups and downs like all friends, being friends to friends.. to friends... to awkward friends that never see eachother.. to friends again. Huh, you know to be honest I thought there was a bit more turmoil than that. I remember thinking you were awesome way back when I first met you, but we didn't really start being friends until you were sent to stop a rant I was on and ended up joining in. I'm sorry about all the time I've cost us, but I'm trying to make up for it.
I don't know what's going to happen in the future, but I know sticking together is going to be important. Between you, Rei, and I, I'm not worried about a thing.
Rei Rosse: It's not just that you're my roommate and that you'd kill me if I didn't put you on here, but you actually are a good friend. Thanks for taking care of me, I'd be helpless without you.
Urainia: Oh my god what do I say about you. Our relationship has been nothing short of chaotic madness these past.. what four years now? I've been there, watching you grow from a distance, I know it doesn't always seem like I care, but I do. I can't understate your importance in my life. Some might see the drama as having a negative effect and sometimes it does, but you're the one I believe will always be there for me, no matter what. Sometimes I think to myself, no matter how bad things get, at least I have you.
Kraeven: I was always suspicious of you. Your intentions are harder to judge than most and it's difficult to tell who's side your on when you offer advice. I know you claim neutrality, but I don't believe that, you've given me the help I needed when I had no one else to turn to and your insight is always an enjoyable distraction from the real world. If you die too, you can hang out with shade and I.
Chers Etoile: Saying my relationship with her is complicated would be a massive understatement. I won't get into all that happened, but the fact that we're friends now despite all that is reason enough to put her here. She's seen the worst of me, maybe I've seen the worst of her too, but despite all that we can still enjoy an awkward conversation or silly meme. She's a wonderful artist, a good writer, and funny too. I'm better as a person for having known her.
“You’re brave, aren’t you?” The shapely, young, black haired sorceress asks as she paces in her black stiletto heels, circling him atop the highest tower of Icesunder Citadel. “And you look so much like him….” She adds deviously, her long serpentine tongue licking her lips as her hips provocatively sway side to side beneath the translucent fabric of her tribal dress, its trim flecked with intricate runes glowing with a life of their own.
Toward the center of the tower some twenty feet away stands High King Adrian Cross in the full armor of the Golden Dragon. “It’s not with bravery I stand here, witch!” The gold tinted metal plates of his armor clink together as he draws his silver steel sword. “It’s with fear, such great fear for what you’ll do to my people – my family, if you pass!” He shouts, buffeted by the sudden gale of an approaching blizzard, the red tassel of his helm fluttering in the high wind.
“Fear….” She contemplates as she raises her left hand, watching with murderous fascination as the translucent ice crystals slowly form above her palm. “You do your ancestor no justice, Adrian… he was never afraid….” She grasps the ice, shaping it with nothing but her touch into a sharp, pointed blade. “Even as I ripped off his limbs….” She licks her lips as to savor the taste of her words. “There was never any fear.” With one flick of her wrist the ice blade flies fast across the roof, striking the king’s golden tower shield, the ice protruding well through the back.
“Oh my, an excellent block.” She mocks him as she sneers, her lip crawling up the side of her face to reveal the white of her fangs. “Is that all you have High King?”
Incensed, the king adjusts his stance, snorting beneath his heavy helm as he stares her dead on through the thin slit of his metal visor. “Why don’t you come closer and find out?” He counters, taking a slow, deep breath to calm his nerves. “Or are you afraid of an aging king?” A suspicious moment of peace sweeps over the roof as the wind falls silent, tiny flecks of snow gathering around their feet.
The sorceress’ sneer fades as she slides her eye-patch up over her right eye, revealing a gold sphere surrounded by scorched, charred flesh beneath which he could see the very bone of her skull. The gold sphere opens like clockwork, revealing an intricate mechanism of gears and wires surrounding a ruby red crystal in the center. “Fear.” She mutters, sweeping her arms behind her as the snowflakes swoop down, whipping around her like a living blizzard. “You don’t even know the meaning!” She howls with inhuman rage, the snow coming together around her right arm to form a massive, jagged lance of pure ice.
As the blizzard dies and the snow falls lifelessly again she approaches, hips swaying; the end of her lance tapping against the stone of the roof with every step. Adrian can feel the difference; her body seething an incredible killing intent, her crystal blue eye as sharp and dangerous as the blade of her lance. “For generations we’ve stood stalwart!” He shouts, trying to reassure himself. “Thousands of your Icekin have fallen upon our walls; savages, undead, giants, and the very elements themselves!” He raises his shield, bracing his boots to the roof as he points his sword toward her. “I cannot… I will not let you pass!”
The sorceress leaps high into the air, reaping with her lance in a wide arc as she comes down, beating a hefty dent to his shield. “Rrrraaaggh!” Adrian shouts; roaring from his throat as he withstands the blow and lunges in with his sword arm, trying to cleave her as she comes down. But by some enormous luck she lands right atop his blade, bouncing in a forward flip behind him before sweeping around slashing open the back of his armor and splattering his blood in an arc across the roof.
“Aaaaargh!” He cries, falling forward on his left knee, the hilt of his sword supporting him.
“Does it sting!?” She cries with psychopathic excitement, extending her left palm to blast pure, frigid air across his back. “Does it burn!?”
Adrian bites his tongue, tears streaming down his face as his open wound turns purple and black from the cold. She may have the upper hand, but Adrian is dragon blood, the High King, master of the four realms! Gripping his sword with all the resolve he can muster he rises to his feet despite the pain, whipping his sword in a backspin. But the witch saw it coming, she was already weaving in when he realized she’d ducked, by then it was too late to bring his sword in as she gave him a stammering head-butt followed by a decisive kick, knocking him right on his back.
“Weak.” The Sorceress mutters as she tears off his helm, revealing the weathered and scarred face of the man beneath, his head wrapped with chainmail. “Do you understand how outmatched you are!?” She shouts in his face before stabbing down with her left foot, impaling his wrist with her heel as she flips the blade of her lance down to hold it against his neck.
“Aah! Aaraaaaggh!” Adrian screams as she twists the heel in his wrist. “How c-c-could you…?” He struggles to ask, frost creeping over him as he tries to comprehend his defeat.
A cruel grin curls across her face. “You don’t recognize your own relic?” She asks, tilting her head; her long, black hair falling down past her face as she leans in to let him look more closely.
Squinting, his vision obscured by his tears clears just enough to see the eye again. It hadn’t struck him until that moment, his lip falling silently at the realization that she bears the golden eye, the dragon’s gift to the first High King. “Alexander’s… eye….” He weeps. “You really did… kill him….”
“Weep no more, my king….” She stretches; sliding her hair past her shoulders as she cranes her head toward the dark sky. “You’ll see your Alexander soon.” The stone beneath them begins to crack and shifting together. “Your whole kingdom shall be reunited!” She shouts, stabbing her lance into the stone beside Adrian’s face as a massive sea serpent rears its head high over the tower, its fins spreading out as it screeches, squeezing the tower ever tighter in the coil of its body.
“Your name….” He asks; bile seeping from his lips as the frosts which creeps through his wound reaches his stomach.
“My name?” She replies playfully, lifting her lance as the tower starts to come down below them. “My name… is Cythica.” With one swift, brutal motion she thrusts the lance through his throat killing him instantly. “Rest easy… your kingdom is in good hands.”
Cythica pulls her lance away, leaving Adrian’s corpse to be buried alongside the rest of his army beneath the Icesunder Mountains. However before she can claim her victory she hears the clattering of metal and snaps around to see Adrian standing once more, blood seeping from his neck.
“What magic is this, Adrian?” She asks not in anger, but interest. “You’re no sorcerer.”
Adrian’s head dips forward, his eyes closed as his jaw relaxes open to shine with the haunting, warm light of a crackling fire. “I haven’t forgotten you.” A familiar voice resonates in her head.
Cythica’s pale face flushes red, her lower lip falling in disbelief as she recognizes his voice. Breathless she raises one hand high into the air, clenching it into the tightest fist she can bear. “DIE!” She screams, sweeping her fist down, a massive ice shard crashing into Adrian. “DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE!” Cythica pounds the air with blind rage, both hands whipping up and down as his body is utterly smashed by falling ice.
She stands there, covered in his blood, legs braced still against the stone, howling for breath as her hands seethe with ice and hate. “I will kill you!” She screams toward the gathering storm; her serpent raising its head to cry with her as lightning crosses the clouds and thunder rolls for miles.
That night Icesunder Citadel fell and the Icekin poured from Winmere, the Northland, freezing and destroying all in their path. Tiratryn; home of the dragon kings, throne of the golden gods, burned for a full year, its black smoke billowing high in the sky for all mortals, man and elf, to know that their king had fallen. In the years that followed, their continent of Morra was consumed in war; brother killing brother as fallen nobles and isolated aristocrats struggled to retain control of their people. However, their insignificant struggles were merely mud flinging in the looming shadow of the Ice Queen Cythica and Nortryn, the once capital of the once human empire now twisted into a mockery of ice and snow. She would watch in silence for years, never going beyond the valley to attack the southern kingdoms, staying in Nortryn to conduct whatever business she had there in absolute secrecy.
For now the weak humans kingdoms live in crippling fear of Cythica and her armies, their people disheartened by the silence of their gods, the Seven Dragons. It’s a cruel world where they slaughter one another in jealous paranoia and the weak dwell beneath the tyranny of their nobles. Perhaps it’s because of this that Cythica sees no threat in their existence, but from her icy throne she can’t feel the heartbeat of a world which aches for change.