The Dream of the Queen

The war had not ended — it had only shifted.

In the still-burning wake of the Vulture King's fall, the people of Frostfang buried their dead in rows beneath banners woven from the ashes of their enemies. The gates still stood. Barely. The city breathed, battered but alive.

But Aldric… did not rest.

He had not slept since the fire overtook him.

Not truly.

Because each time he closed his eyes…

He saw her.

The Queen's Prison

It was not sleep that found him, but pull — like falling into the gravity of a forgotten god. He awoke, not in his chamber, but in a place that did not exist within any mortal map.

The air was cold — not the chill of wind or snow, but of memory itself. Endless spires stretched up like the ribs of a dead colossus. Beneath his feet, glass and obsidian. Stars blinked behind thin curtains of smoke.

And at the center of it all sat the Queen.

"So," she said, voice soft as snowfall, "the boy dares to dream of me."

Aldric raised his head. He could barely breathe. She wasn't beautiful the way mortals understood it. She was elemental — sorrow shaped into skin, divinity ruined by betrayal.

And yet…

Her eyes held no malice. Only exhaustion.

"Why am I here?" he asked.

The Queen studied him. "Because you are the first to survive the fire. The first to ask the right questions. The first to feel the echo of what came before."

Aldric took a step forward. "You are the one they fear. The one they chained."

"And you are the one I have waited for."

Visions of Before

With a gesture, the air rippled.

Aldric turned — and found himself standing in a different place. A throne room carved from moonlight. And beside him… a young woman, crowned in silver, her eyes bright with hope.

"Is that… you?" he asked.

The Queen nodded.

Her name had not always been forgotten. Once, she had ruled not with fire or fear, but with song, healing, and knowledge. The lands had prospered. The stars had spoken to her alone.

Until she loved a man the gods did not approve of.

Until she gave her power to save a mortal army from a dying star.

Until they betrayed her — all of them. The pantheon. Her people. Her sisters.

They cast her down.

Bound her beneath the roots of the world.

And built legends atop her suffering — calling her the Endbringer, the Frostbane, the Sleeping Queen.

"They took everything," she whispered. "Even my name."

Fire and Ice

The vision melted. Aldric stood before her again, trembling.

"You are not what they said," he murmured. "You're not the enemy."

The Queen tilted her head. "No. But I am also not innocent. I have slept in anger. I have whispered through blood. I have made wolves from fire and ice."

She leaned closer.

"And now, I ask you: What are you, Aldric Stormborn? A blade? A king? A pawn in someone else's story? Or something new?"

He could not answer.

Because a part of him already knew.

The fire inside him had come from her.

And it was waking up.

The Choice

A mirror rose from the floor — twin to the one in Maerlyn's tower. But where hers shimmered with truth, this one shimmered with possibility.

The Queen's voice darkened.

"There is a gate in the mountains north of Frostfang. Sealed with ice older than the sun. Behind it… is the chain that binds me. You are the key."

Aldric clenched his fists. "You want me to set you free."

"No," she said. "I want you to choose. Free me, and I will make the world anew. Refuse, and I will sleep for another thousand years."

She stepped back. "But I will not survive both."

He looked at her. Not a monster. Not a goddess. Just… someone left behind too long.

"I'm not ready," he said.

"You never are," she replied. "None of you ever are. That's why it must be you."

And with that — she was gone.

Return

Aldric jolted upright in his chamber, gasping.

The candle had burned to wax. The sword at his side was warm — pulsing faintly with a heartbeat not his own.

Rowena was already at the door, bow in hand. "Another dream?"

He nodded, slowly.

"She wants me to choose."

Kaelin entered behind her, voice hoarse. "Then we're going with you."

Aldric met their eyes. No longer just companions.

Now — witnesses.

"North," he whispered. "We ride north. To the gate beneath the mountain."

Behind him, Maerlyn stepped from the shadows.

"I wondered when she'd speak to you."

"You knew?" Aldric asked.

"I helped bind her," Maerlyn replied, face unreadable. "I will help you unbind her… if that is what you decide."

The Flame Grows

Outside, Frostfang healed.

But in the north, in the whispering ice…

The gate began to crack.

And in the stars above, a scream was swallowed — not in pain, but in hope.

The Queen was waking.

And her knight of fire was on his way.