Prologue: The Shattered Ice
The winds of Neptune tore across the frozen plains, a howl like a living thing, slicing through the towering ice cliffs. The sky was a swirl of green storms, jagged lightning slashing through the perpetual twilight. The planet was dying—its oceans boiling in some regions, freezing solid in others, and cities of crystal ice crumbling under the relentless bombardment of war.
In the heart of the capital, the Citadel of Frost, three figures moved swiftly through the labyrinthine corridors. They were cloaked, hooded, and trembling—not from cold, but from the weight of what had to be done.
Aelara’s mother, her eyes glowing faint blue, gripped the wrist of her youngest daughter. “We don’t have a choice,” she whispered, voice tight with fear. “The agents are closing in. You must survive… no matter the cost.”
Beside her, Nyssa’s mother nodded, holding a small device—circular, metallic, and humming faintly. “The rift is unstable,” she said. “But it will carry them. Across the stars… far from this madness.”
Aelara, a newborn swaddled in blankets woven with frost-threaded fibers, cooed softly. Thyra, equally tiny, blinked her glowing eyes for the first time, capturing a reflection of the storm outside. Nyssa, last of the three, clutched a pendant shaped like a snowflake.
Aelara’s mother kissed her forehead. “One day, you will understand why. One day, you will awaken. And you must protect one another. Always.”
A distant explosion shook the corridors. Crystals fell from the ceiling, and the glow of fire raced across the walls.
Nyssa’s mother activated the device. A circular portal of swirling light and frost shimmered into existence. “Now,” she said. “Go!”
Hands trembled as they placed the infants into the portal. Aelara’s tiny fingers grasped at the cold air as if sensing something beyond. The mothers’ faces blurred with tears, etched with both love and desperation.
“Remember us,” Thyra’s mother whispered. “Remember who you are.”
Then the portal flared. A searing light enveloped the infants, and the sound of the Citadel collapsing echoed like thunder in the distance. Ice shards shot into the sky.
When the light dimmed, the three girls were gone. Neptune’s screams faded behind them, replaced by silence and the infinite darkness between stars.
Far away, a small, blue planet rotated peacefully. Earth. Wintermere, Kansas. The Clyne Farm, quiet and unassuming, waited unknowingly to welcome three strange children who were not truly of its soil.
Somewhere, across the void, the Neptune Guardians who had survived the war began the long search. One day, they would find the lost Frostborne children. But that day was not yet.
For now… the storm had passed, and the girls slept on a world that would never know their true origin.
