Gaze of Winter

[Laudna]

The Archeonian winter is more than a season. It's a presence – a being with many names: the Blizzard Warden, the Icebound Sentinel, but most often the Frost Owl. They say it carries cold and snowfall in its wake. The wind moaning through the fir crowns is its voice, and the sweep of its wings stirs the famous storms that blanket the Winter Resort.

Elder Ceopir once admitted – after a few too many cups of mosquito brew – that he'd seen the Frost Owl back when he was nothing but a tadpole. It glided past the pond, slow but inexorable. The crystal plates of its armor rang softly, like silver echoing in an empty hall. With a single, indifferent glance, ice crawled across the water's surface.

"He wasn't there to hunt, or to save anyone – and he certainly wasn't handing out gift boxes with pretty bows," the Frogger muttered, taking another drink. "He's simply eternal. And for as long as he returns, Arinar remains."