Leif shivered with joy. The bitter wind felt incredible.
The Kingdom of Ice appeared desolate, large snow drifts remained untouched, covering entire buildings. The wind howled as Leif slowly made his way down a drift leading to a snow dusted, cobbled road, protected from the elements by a pair of tall turrets. The sky was clouded and gloomy, a large gray expanse.
"Hullo?" Leif's voice echoed through a few hollow buildings, but was quickly muffled by the howling wind and swirling snow.
Leif squinted at a drift, dull blue scales half covered by the snow. Carefully, he rushed to the dragon, scraping the iced snow off his body and wincing.
What has happened. Where were the IceWings?
A creeping sorrow washed through his mind as he continued through the Kingdom, dragging his talons and tail along forlornly.
He searched empty houses and shops, finding two more dead, one a dragonet.
"I enchant myself to lead myself to the IceWings." He whispered, curious to see where the spell would take him.
A strangled yelp escaped as his body was wrenched backward, his wings catching the wind. He surged towards the palace at an incredible speed, quickly reversing the spell on his mind.
Leif's talons clicked on the icy stone as he slowly made his way through the palace. The halls he had once trode so often reminded him of his once simple, innocent life. He sure has kissed that good bye, and ever since, second thoughts and regrets plagued his mind.
The first and second floors appeared empty. Leif shook his head. They
must be here. Ahead, a massive drift had blown in through an open terrace. Leif stopped, blinking hard. Where
were they? He hadn't... he hadn't killed his entire tribe... had he? Leif stumbled, leaning against the palace wall. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real.
The Prince staggered suddenly as something leapt on him from behind, a sharp pain pulsing in his neck. He crumpled, swallowing hard as fear pricked at the edges of his mind. Talons closed around his neck and he fought the dragon half heartedly for but a moment, then stiffened, feeling the poison flood through his body.
"Have you come to kill us? To finish us off, Leif?" A voice hissed.
Leif winced as his head was yanked to the side, his eyes straining to focus on the IceWing before him.
"No." He gritted out, fighting the darkness clouding his vision. He recognized the dragon immediately, a close cousin of his. "Wait- F-Frost," he begged quietly. Leif did not care that he was an Animus, he did not care that he could teleport himself somewhere else, he did not care that he could grow to an enormous size and kill this dragon. He cared about his tribe. The tribe he may have just decimated. What was the point anymore? He was done. Grief and misery clouded his thoughts. Leif took a shuddering breath and stopped fighting, closing his eyes and feeling the poison seep into his mind.
He was done with this world.
He was done with this life.
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