The promises king

Martin lay motionless, blood staining the snow beneath him.

His white hair was matted against his pale skin, and his once-bright purple eyes stared blankly at the sky.

The air was quiet again.

Only the wind dared to whisper, brushing gently over the summit.

Then—soft paws stumbled across the frost.

The white wolf limped toward him, its breaths shallow, its body battered from the fight. Every step left a blood trail.

It stopped beside Martin's body.

Whined.

Nudged his arm.

Licked the blood from his cheek.

But Martin didn't move.

The wolf let out a long, aching howl that echoed across the mountains. Then, weakly, it pressed its body against Martin's chest, trembling as the cold claimed them both.

The sound of boots crunching in the snow broke the silence.

Theodore Page approached Martin, "I'm glad that found a new friend."

He paused for a moment, staring at his son's corpse—then knelt, and gently lifted Martin into his arms.

The wolf barked weakly but could do nothing more.

Theodore walked straight towards the Frozen Throne and laid Martin there, seated with regal stillness upon the ice-carved seat, "There you go, hope you enjoy the sight son." Martin arms rest limply at the sides of the throne, his head tilted forward.

Theodore took the wooden rapier from Martin body, "I remember those days so clearly. I'm surprised you still had this." Then toss it off the cliff.

As he turn towards the throne, "Well, it's time for me to leave. Take care son." and begun walk away, the wolf limped after Martin—only to collapse beside the throne.

With a final whimper, it climbed onto Martin's lap and lay still, guarding him in silence.

---

Then, the world shifted.

The mountaintop vanished.

Snow became water. Sky became night.

Martin now sat still and lifeless upon the throne, surrounded by an endless, flat ocean beneath a sky filled with stars and a full blue moon hung overhead, bathing the dreamscape in gentle, surreal light.

Ripples spread across the black water.

From the far side of the throne, a figure stepped into view.

A woman.

Her skin glowed with a faint blue hue. Her long and curly, sapphire hair rested behind her. She wore a flowing white dress, that hid her bare feet. Her purple eyes watched him with a soft smile.

The wolf was gone.

Only she remained.

She stepped closer.

Slowly, gently, she reached out and cupped Martin's pale face in her hands. Her touch was cold that his blood was beginning to freeze.

"So you are my new Confidant," she whispered, brushing her fingers along his cheek. "I see it, you possessed the Will of the Ancient."

She leaned down, "Our relationship will be beautiful." and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

Then, she stepped back into the dark water, returning to her seat across from the throne.

Martin's fingers twitched.

Light soft and blue—gathered around his body.

The torn skin of his throat and chest began to knit itself closed. The blood faded. Color returned to his cheeks.

And then—his eyes opened.

Brilliant, glowing violet.

The blue skin woman smiled gently, she crossed her legs and rest her head against her fist, "Hello my beloved Confidant, my name is Malenia. The Maiden Goddesses of the Moon and Water. It's a pleasure to meet you love."