Chapter 625: Winter Is Coming

Chapter 625: Winter Is Coming

In a world far far away stood the capital of the Aen Elle, Tir na Lia. A palace stood beyond the dancing willow branches overseeing the river. Unlike most structures built with marble and alabaster, the mainframe of this palace was built with long white lace. It was fluttering, exquisite, and light, as if it were a mirage floating in midair.

A gust of wind blew. Willow branches swayed, mist swam, and ripples spread through the river. The palace felt like it could fly away at any time.

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The palace was decorated with drawbridges with ivy circling around them, openwork fountains, mosaic statues, rails with ivy engravings, corridors, great ceilings, and slim towers that looked like stalagmites.

In the center of the palace was a resplendent room with stained glass windows, mirrors, floral rugs, and a chandelier. A slender man stood within. He was in a black jacket, paired with traditional elven boots. Gray hair tumbled down his shoulder and slipped down his back. His hands, holding the balustrade, were white and fair, his fingers slender as a woman's.

The man was watching swans gliding through the surface of a lake. His eyes were the color of molten lead, and there was long history behind them. He turned to the blond elf before the desk. The sunlight shone from beyond the window reflected incredible light, framing the elf in a sacred halo. "Where are Aen Saevherne, Eredin, and Caranthir?"

"Call me Avallac'h, Your Majesty. The three of them have just finished a long mission. They are cleaning themselves up now. Once they are refreshed and calm, they will request an audience with you, and I bear great news." The elven sage smiled toothily. There was not an incisor in his mouth at all. "We carried out our task and stopped the White Frost, if only just. This world now has six months more of peacetime."

"Avallac'h." Auberon looked at Avallac'h seriously. He spoke slowly, as if every word needed all his strength to be spoken. "I will remember the contributions and sacrifice all of you made for the tribe."

"Your Majesty, this is just our duty." Avallac'h then said, "Alas, safety is only momentary. I do not know what went wrong, but the White Frost is gaining in strength, crossing through the cracks in the universe at unprecedented speeds, closing in to the worlds of Aen Seidhe and ours. It's coming fast for us."

Auberon was solemn, and he was listening.

"For the last six years, Eredin and the Red Riders have given up on the act of pillaging. They placed all their efforts in having the pilot, Caranthir, cross through space-time and lead the White Frost away." Avallac'h's face darkened. He waved his hand, not even chanting any incantation, and cast a spell exclusive to elves. A bright screen appeared before him and Auberon, then it weaved lifelike scenes before them.

There were sounds of whistles and the stampeding of horses. A group of riders were riding through chaos, their horned helmets swaying with the wind, their crimson cloaks billowing behind them like outstretched flags. Cracks with dim light coming out of them appeared before the riders. They went in and out of the cracks, going from a dark realm to unknown domains.

An endless stretch of white ribbon was chasing the Red Riders. Death was always by their side, swift and unstoppable. The ribbon wrapped itself around their rusty armor and broken helm, covering them in a layer of white frost. The chill almost broke through the screen as the horses kept taking steps forward, rings of cold radiating from the riders, but they were determined.

Avallac'h looked at Auberon. "But I had to work with Eredin to lead the White Frost away for the last few years, so I had no time to handle this matter. Now that our crisis is averted for the time being, Your Majesty, I implore you to send our best troops with me to Aen Seidhe. We will bring home the tribe's long lost bloodline. We must spare no expense for this. Just sending the phantom knights of Wild Hunt through the gate is not enough. There are powerful humans who understand the value of the Elder Blood, and they will be our enemies."

Avallac'h pleaded, "I wish Eredin and Caranthir, our strongest pilot, to join hands and send the Red Riders over to that world in their physical forms. There, they will search for Ciri."

Over a few dozen millennia, the Red Riders were the pioneers of finding new dimensions. They were also the strongest warriors among Aen Elle. Not only did they have powerful martial arts and spells (humans learned their magic from elves), but a few of their members had learned how to harness the power of the White Frost in their long years of escaping it.

Once they used that power, everything would die. Auberon held the golden necklace around his neck. It was the symbol of a ruler. In the Elder Speech, it was called 'tor'h.'

A moment of musing later, Auberon's cheeks flushed red, as if he were hit somewhere tender. "When the Red Riders bring her back, then what? Avallac'h, don't tell me you agree with Eredin's idea of having me mate with a half-blood and create a new generation of Elder Blood bearers."

Avallac'h shook his head. "A shame, but the White Frost is fast approaching. It is unrealistic to impregnate her with your child on such short notice."

Auberon heaved a sigh of relief.

"The best option we have is to ask Zireael to work with Caranthir and take our tribe through the gate and move away from this world. We'll move away from the world Aen Seidhe resides in as well. Away from the coming ice age."

Auberon heaved a sigh. Ever since he was a child, the whole tribe was terrified of the White Frost. He was tired of this.

Avallac'h saw through him. He said, "As long as we have Zireael, we'll eventually find a way to deal with the White Frost once and for all."

"Go then, Avallac'h." Auberon turned around, facing the majestic lake again. He looked at the sun hanging high above. "Return Aen Elle to glory. Take Zireael back to the path she is supposed to take."

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