"Ignatius The III Of The Dark Tower."

"that is my name."

the clerk looked over his papers, checking to see my appointment time.

"so, you wish to gain an audience with the Frozen King, do you?"

"that is what is written down, right?" honestly, i was getting tired of repeating myself.

"so, what is the purpose of your visit?" he asked, sniffling from his cold.

"isn't that written down too?" shifting my feet on the frozen ground, i wished i had worn a thinner cloak. i pulled off my cloak, draping it on the clerks frozen desk. seriously, was there anything in this frozen cave that was actually cold?

he looked through his papers some more, then finally rang his bell, and waved me in. i shook my head in disgust.

i hate dealing with idiots.

i pushed open the doors, two massive plates of ice under an arch, with all manner of runes and ancient letterings. even though they were ten feet high, and the ice was at least a half-foot thick, it opened with barely any effort, a testament to the strength of the runes of lightness inscribed on the bottom.

inside these doors was a hall. it had an arched ceiling, and alcoves in the sides containing ice sculptures of warriors. pillers of ice stood beside the red carpet at intervals, making a pathway to the raised dais. as i walked down the carpet, torches of blue flame lit up beside me. all in all, it was a pretty throne room.

it would be a shame if someone were to destroy it.

i finally reached the throne, and looked up at the so-called Frozen king. he was old, and looked to be in his sixty's at least, but still not bent with age. even though he was obviously past his prime, he still looked regal. like a king. i bowed, showing my respect for a man who had held onto his throne for more than five hundred years, through blood and steel. he would someday lose it the same way.

"greetings, your majesty."

he was wrinkled, but even the wrinkles couldn't hide that he had been a handsome man in his early years. he wore a long blue cloak, and a purple mantle. a crown of ice rested perfectly on his head, nestled in his pure white hair, the color of snow. the plates of steel on his leg showed he wasn't one to let his underlings do all the work, as well as his rippling muscles. even with a thick cloak obscuring his physique, you could still make out the compact muscle gained from years of training and battle.

he slowly rose from his throne, showing his age.

"greetings to you too, young one. what brings a prodigy to my home?" his voice was strong, and held a tone of command that most leaders could only envy. no matter how much his body had decayed from it's former self, his voice still bespoke unspeakable strength.

i raised my head, and shrugged my shoulders.

"i think it is an overstatement to call me a prodigy. but i thank you for the complement, your majesty."

he looked me over with eyes that held knowledge gained from over five hundred years of life.

"i do not think it is an overstatement at all."

my twenty year-old face broke into a smile of pleasure that such a powerful man would complement me.

"i appreciate the complement, your majesty."

he looked tired. like a horse that had run a race, and then a another one. and then a hundred more.

"it wasn't a complement. it was simply my stating the truth." he sighed a long, deep sigh. like he had pent up all of his fatigue for days, and had finally admitted to himself that he needed to rest. "and enough with the 'your majesty' crap. my name is Zan Yaxes, of the North. use it."

i started with surprise. "of course, Lord Yaxes. whatever you say." i said humbly.

he slowly started taking off his coat of blue.

"so, you said in your brief message that you wanted an alliance?"

i nodded.

he slowly set down his coat on the throne, then strightened his back, showing his broad shoulders.

"i assume that was a lie, so you could approach me." it wasn't a question, or asking for confirmation. it was a statement.

i nodded again.

he reached up to his crown, and took it off.

"so then, Ignatius the III, have you come to take my crown?" he asked.

i smiled, and removed my shirt, revealing the runes burnt into my flesh.

he took another look at his crown, then raised it high into the air, inspecting it in the light of the blue torches. then he set it down at his feet, and removed his shirt, but kept his purple mantle on his shoulders.

i looked in awe, seeing the chest of a man who had killed countless usurpers, devestated kingdoms of traitors, and countries of rivals. he was a man who had reached godhood, compared to regular mortals. the scars criss-crossing his chest made a wall of damaged flesh, so that it was hard to make out any skin.

i replied to his question.

"i will claim your crown, your throne, and your kingdom." i activated my mana pool, feeling the familiar burning sensation on my chest and everywhere else my red scars reached.

he jumped, and fell, cracking the ice beneath his feet. as i looked up at the seven foot monster of an old man standing above me, i felt like i was looking into the face of an angry god. he said five words to me.

THEN COME AND CLAIM THEM!