Don't put your happiness in other people's hands
Korbin seemed to be beyond the need for sleep these days. The energy with which he threw himselves into the tasks his sister heaped upon him appeared without end. He was everywhere; arranging work parties, overseeing cook fires and settling disputes, helping home owners patch up roofs and insulate against the punishing cold. His hands and feet were so cold he could barely feel what he was doing anymore, but though the lips cracked and bled, and patches of frost-bite bloomed on the exposed skin of his face, he paid it no heed. Just downed a mug of hot broth when it was passed to him, and kept going.
He had been returning from the ruins of the palace, and stole a few quiet moments for himself to breathe and clear his mind. Standing still in the cold was impossible, so his feet carried him down streets filled with debris - that would need to be cleared, and the paths shoveled free of snow - towards what had once been the gate.
There, he stopped and stared at the devastation. The gate had been taken down and lay in a shambled heap to the side, its materials not yet salvaged for other purposes, and a solid block of ice had been set in its place. All around, the ground was trampled, dark stains indicating where blood had been shed and humans burned to ash by his sister's flames. He'd heard many versions told about the battle fought here, but seeing the aftermath was beyond anything the people had described to him.
A sense of movement caught his eye. Turning, Korbin saw a figure swept in ice stand not far from the gates. Being partly obscured by the swirling element, he didn't recognize who it was. Heart leaping into the throat, he feared it might be some new intruder. "What are you doing!?" he called out sharply and drew his heavy dagger, already moving towards the figure with strides that quickly picked up speed.
No one would endager his town and people while he had a chance to stop it.
He had been returning from the ruins of the palace, and stole a few quiet moments for himself to breathe and clear his mind. Standing still in the cold was impossible, so his feet carried him down streets filled with debris - that would need to be cleared, and the paths shoveled free of snow - towards what had once been the gate.
There, he stopped and stared at the devastation. The gate had been taken down and lay in a shambled heap to the side, its materials not yet salvaged for other purposes, and a solid block of ice had been set in its place. All around, the ground was trampled, dark stains indicating where blood had been shed and humans burned to ash by his sister's flames. He'd heard many versions told about the battle fought here, but seeing the aftermath was beyond anything the people had described to him.
A sense of movement caught his eye. Turning, Korbin saw a figure swept in ice stand not far from the gates. Being partly obscured by the swirling element, he didn't recognize who it was. Heart leaping into the throat, he feared it might be some new intruder. "What are you doing!?" he called out sharply and drew his heavy dagger, already moving towards the figure with strides that quickly picked up speed.
No one would endager his town and people while he had a chance to stop it.
They'll drop it
KORBIN
