The market street of Volaq was bustling, as expected from a city in the heart of the expansion of southern Borea. Yet even though everything seemed normal, a tension held high above the town. The Frozen Conquest had liberated Borea from the corrupt noble hierarchy twenty years ago led by the mythical Ice Queen that gave her own life for the freedom of the nation.
At least that's what the myth proclaims.
Even though barely a generation had passed, rumors had started to run rampant that there was no Ice Queen, that the Twin Chancellors that ruled Borea are actually tyrants that had usurped the throne from the noble Rhime lineage and needed a scapegoat. The continued violence throughout Borea was used as a main reason to fuel speculation that the Twins were behind the scenes, pulling the strings of all these internal conflicts.
With all that being said, it was still a tiny percentage of the population that believed these rumors. Elders spoke hatefully of the corrupt nobility that was disposed of in the Conquest. They proclaimed that true Boreans are chiselled from the cold and the war of the North.
Of course, as time kept passing, the myth of the Ice Queen became more unbelievable. She was said to have sired over a hundred children, that she could freeze the sky itself with a mere breath, that she could drop demons and gods to their knees with just a look.
A grey cloak with a hint of blue flowed through the crowd, neither panicked nor particularly quick. Yet, there was an urgency to her step.
There was a strange ripple to the myth, though. One that seemed a strange addition to such an inspiring story.
The grey cloak flitted into a side street before disappearing completely.
The Ice Queen had one fear.
She looked to see that she wasn't followed before opening a hidden door.
Smoke. Not Fire.
The doorway closed as quickly as it opened.
Smoke. She feared it more than anything.
Even inside, she kept her grey hood up. She knew better to think anywhere is safe.
Smoke was her downfall. Her enemies filled the whole of the Borea sky with it, making her split into five parts.
She knocked four times fast, slow twice, followed with two more quick taps on what looked like a plain wooden wall.
She couldn't bare such a disgrace of her defeat, so two of her parts became the Twin Chancellors and ruled in her stead.
The wall creaked open enough for the cloaked to squeeze through before sliding closed.
What an absurd fable. One that no one knows where it came from.
"Did you find anything?" As soon as she heard the familiar voice, the cloaked figured relented her disguise and unhooded to show hair so blonde that it might as well be white braided across one side. Before answering, she etched a small rune into the wall that she had just came through.
"Nothing." She made her way to a meager table where the voice resonated from. Lit only by candlelight was her partner in the search wearing her usual scarlet silk draped around her body as she rifled through papers. "It would be easier if we knew what we were searching for." She sighed, collapsing into a wooden chair. She picked at her tight leather pants, the snow now melting since she came inside.
"Or who we could trust." Her companion idly played with her jet-black hair. "How are you holding up Guin?"
"Fine, all things considered." Guindolyn stretched her arms as she pondered their situation. "I'm tired of being cooped up here, but I don't want to end up like the others."
"How sure are you that there are marks on everyone?"
"Thirty dead in two weeks, Hhana." Guindolyn stares across the table. "A quarter of that number would be worth investigating."
Hhana put her hands up in forfeit. "Easy, Guin." The gold bracelets that connected to an equally ornate necklace by two thin chains flickered in the candlelight as they were exposed. "I do not mean offense; I want to make sure we're looking in the right places."
