Prologue
They say the first snow ever to fall upon the world marked the moment Edur, god of winter, drew his first breath. Born from the heart of the northern mountains at the farthest edge of the known world, his arrival plunged the heavens into mourning, and for a hundred years the sky wept—shedding ice without mercy, without end. Newly formed and already burning with envy for the elder gods who ruled before him, Edur turned his fury upon creation itself. From frost and darkness, he forged an army the world had never known—soldiers carved from ice, stripped of will, bound to him alone.
Then one day, the snow fell red.
Blood stained the heavens as it touched the earth, and all who saw it knew: Edur had chosen his champion.
The strongest of his frostborn, the chosen was not merely a weapon, but an extension of the god’s will. He was set as protector of Valoria—the frozen kingdom Edur tore from the world for the humans who knelt before his power. Gifted the White Shadow, known as Edur’s Veil, the champion was crowned the first king of Valoria.
Word of the new king spread swiftly through neighboring lands, and terror followed in its wake. With Edur’s power coiled in his grasp, the king unleashed his White Shadows like living serpents, slithering across the land in search of souls to swell Edur’s ever-growing army. They crept far beyond Valoria’s borders, seeping into foreign kingdoms, feeding their endless hunger. Nothing that breathed was spared. Crops blackened and died. Animals vanished without a trace.
Some swore the shadows sang as they moved—a soft, beckoning lullaby that drew the unwary into the mist, where no scream could follow. With each passing winter, Edur’s army grew, until nearly a million stood frozen beneath his dominion.
At last, the elder gods intervened.
On the final winter, they united, fearing what Edur would become if left unbound. The Five gods rose together, led by Vethlar, god of the sun, and unleashed their divine wrath. Their power chained the god of winter and sealed him within the heart of Valoria, where his fury could no longer bleed into the world.
With Edur imprisoned, his frostborn soldiers shattered into nothingness—and the king of Valoria vanished, along with Edur’s Veil.
But these were only myths. And like all myths, passed from tongue to tongue, they were merely stories.
Tales meant to soothe children into sleep—
until the night they began to wake screaming.
