I’m the Frost God of trouble and cracked frowns. Breaking with tomorrow at the shores and leaderless doors.
I’m raised to obey the timeless dance of yesterday. So filled with honor and tradition, I listen to the rumblings and laughter of gates breaking. I bend, all bend and approach me, my will is strong.
Unknown is this standing circle of men and women all around me. Twisting within bells of cold winds of moving air. I’m Frost God of today’s wind. I go spinning and turning from within. I’m Frost God of yesterday’s wind. The Circle is well enough to breathe life into cold doors and move vessels of heartless hereafters and confessions of lost tomorrows. All while engaged in yesterday’s memories.
This wind is not seen. I’m Frost God of bending things.
The lake await’s me. I feel the Hornets nest correcting and swelling my heart into fractions of riddles without answers.
Walking into these golden doors, smelling, feeling with all my senses, life has charged me a fee.
All in the name of God, Honors, Lords and Nobles.