The Eternal Frost Sovereign

The Frozen Dominion, the name of the northern region, was beautiful, but its beauty wasn't soft. The tundra stretched endlessly in every direction, a pale expanse of snow and ice that gleamed beneath the weak northern sun. The air was sharp, biting with every breath, and the wind carried the low, mournful wail of the mountains in the distance. It was harsh, unforgiving, but alive, thrumming with power, as if the land itself was watching.

I couldn't decide if it felt more enchanting or daunting. I gripped the fur-lined edges of my cloak tightly, feeling the cold's edge even through the protective warmth of the enchantments. My first steps beyond the citadel's walls awakened a mix of awe and unease. For years, I had imagined what the outside world would look like, and now that I was here, standing in the heart of the Aurorastone Plains, where the ceremony would happen. I didn't feel quite ready for its full weight. The vastness of the snowfields made Frostfang Citadel seem small, fleeting, as though this frozen land could swallow it whole if it chose.

The sacred glacial plains of Aurorastone, were like nothing I had ever seen. At the center of the gathering was the ancient glacier, its translucent form catching the light, refracting it like fractured glass. Faint tendrils of mana swirled within it, pulsing with a rhythm that felt almost alive, like a heartbeat.

The air was cold, rigid enough to make my breath curl in pale white wisps. The sharp bite of the extreme cold had softened, protected by the magic of the Everlight Obelisks, though a subtle chill lingered as a reminder of where we were. I felt it seep through, a nudge against my skin. Feeling the cold was an intentional part of the ceremony, a quiet homage to the unforgiving nature of the Frozen Dominion.

The fur-lined edges of my cloak were warm, bolstered by enchantments, but the cold's edge still managed to seep through. I inched closer to my mother, Elise. The cold was present, but it only heightened the vividness of everything around me. She stood tall beside me, her long cloak edged in silver embroidery that shimmered softly in the pale light. Her green eyes, so much like mine, flickered as she scanned the crowd.

We had embarked on this journey across the tundra guided by the Tempest Orb, a relic of ancient power that hovered above us, encasing our group in a shimmering dome of warmth and light. The orb's magic diffused the harsh winds and biting cold, allowing us to traverse the frozen expanse with ease. Without its protection, reaching the Everlight Obelisks would have been impossible. 

At the edges of the gathering stood the Everlight Obelisks, towering crystalline spires carved from the heart of the Frostspire Glaciers. Their surfaces shimmered softly, shifting with pale blue light as glowing runes etched across them pulsed gently. They radiated warmth, creating an invisible barrier that shielded us from the frost's unrelenting power. Without them, I couldn't imagine anyone surviving this open tundra. Beyond their protective reach stretched a vast expanse of wind and snow, like a wild force waiting to reclaim anyone who strayed too far.

I fixed my gazed before me, absorbing every detail. Vassal families were clustered around the edges of the obelisks' reach. Their banners, stood stark against the white landscape, fluttering faintly in the wind. Their postures were crisp, their boots steady on the frost-laden ground. Even the way they stood carried meaning, like every movement here was being watched and judged.

The vassal families, too, had braved the frozen expanse, arriving in enchanted sleighs and carriages adorned with protective runes. Each family's approach was a testament to their resourcefulness and mastery of magic, though none matched the grandeur of the Tempest Orb.

At the center of it all was my father.

Eman Noctis stood tall, his black cloak edged with glimmering fur that seemed to hold the faint light of the northern sun. He didn't move much, but the frost around him did. It spread outward in intricate, spiraling patterns, alive with purpose as it laced itself across the ice beneath his boots. When he stepped onto the raised platform near the glacier, the ground shifted faintly, as if the ancient ice acknowledged his presence.

Behind him rose the glacier, its angular crystalline edges glowing dimly with mana. The light refracted across its translucent surface, casting shifting patterns over the snow around the platform. The frost beneath him pulsed faintly, responding to his movements as though alive.

I couldn't take my eyes off him.

It was said the land of the Frozen Dominion responded to his will, the frost whispering his name.

 My mother had spoken of it often, her voice tinged with both pride and reverence.

"Your father's magic isn't just about ice," she had told me once, her words steady but soft, as though sharing a sacred truth. "It's the frost itself. Cold, unyielding, eternal. They call him the Eternal Frost Sovereign for a reason. The tundra bends to him not because he forces it, but because he is the ice. The frost recognizes its master, Ali. That's what makes him who he is."

At the time, I didn't fully understand. To me, he had simply been my father loving, imposing, and often quiet. But now, standing here in the heart of Aurorastone, witnessing him shaping the frost with such effortless grace, I understood exactly what she meant.

He deserved that title. Every bit of it. 

We had traveled under the Tempest Orb's protection, its magic a steady, comforting presence. But seeing my father command the frost itself was entirely different, raw and breathtaking.

I had read about magic in the citadel's library, and even became "Critic" but I had never witnessed such mastery firsthand. The frost sparkled even brighter, and the air grew sharper, colder, as though holding its breath for him. The wind that had hummed low around us stilled completely, waiting to see what would happen.

"Look at that," I whispered, mostly to myself. My voice sounded small in the vast expanse of Aurorastone, but my mother heard me. She glanced down briefly, her expression soft.

"It's something, isn't it?" she murmured.

I nodded, transfixed.

As the ice beneath my father's feet began to spread outward, spires of frost rose into the air. They spiraled upward, jagged and glittering as they stretched toward the sky. The ground beneath the platform groaned softly, almost like distant thunder rumbling, before it stilled. Around me, the gathered vassals became motionless, their movements halting as though they were caught in awe.

When the frost receded slowly, pulling back like an obedient tide, the ceremonial herald stepped forward. Lothar, my father's steward, lifted his hands, his presence commanding respect and attention. Clad in pale robes trimmed with silver, he raised his voice, deep and resonant.

I shifted slightly, my gaze drawn to the Frostspire Glacier rising behind him, its mana pulsing faintly within its translucent depths. They said the glacier's mana could brush against the soul, reaching into one's very core to sense potential. For someone to awaken here, their soul had to be extraordinary, at least a Tier 4 Innate Singular Soul or higher.

Even then, awakenings were rare. The Frostspire's mana didn't reach out lightly, choosing only a handful across generations. Yet, I couldn't stop the quiet hope flickering in my chest. What if today was my moment? Would I be lucky enough to be acknowledged?

"The Frostbond Ceremony progresses. The vassal families of the Frozen Dominion will now offer their tokens of loyalty to the ruling house. These offerings stand as symbols of their devotion, their strength, and their bond to the Noctis."

The crowd shifted faintly as the first family stepped forward. The Kaels were first, of course. Their dark green and silver banner rippled faintly in the cold wind as Ardyn Kael, tall and stern, took the lead. He carried a blade of froststeel, its jagged edges glowing faintly with carved runes.

"For the Noctis," Ardyn said, his voice sharp and clear. He knelt briefly, just enough to acknowledge his place, before holding out the blade. "May this stand as a symbol of our strength and loyalty to the Frozen Dominion."

My father nodded once, his gloved hand extending to accept the weapon. The frost swirled faintly beneath his feet, as if in acknowledgment. Ardyn rose swiftly, bowing slightly before retreating.

The Varyns followed, their matriarch moving with a grace that drew every eye. Nienna Varyn was draped in silver-and-azure robes that spilled like water over the frost-covered ground, each step deliberate, as if she were gliding rather than walking. In her hands rested a crystalline shard, glowing dimly from within, a mana-infused crystal, their family's pride. Its pale light rippled gently across the snow, catching on the jagged edges of the Frostspire Glacier in the distance.

"For the Noctis," Nienna said, her voice soft but clear, each word perfectly measured. Her lips curved into a faint smile, polished and distant, the kind that revealed nothing. She held the crystal out toward my father, her hands steady but her fingers tightening slightly on its edges before she placed it at his feet.

"For the Noctis," she said with a faint smile that didn't reach her eyes. "May this crystal, carved from the heart of our mines, reflect our enduring devotion."

Her voice was smooth, practiced, but her fingers tightened briefly around the crystal's edge before placing it at my father's feet. My father gave a slight nod, and Nienna withdrew, her composure unbroken.