Watching the Travellers as they cautiously made their way up the stairs, only to realise that they were in full view of my Throne, without any cover nearby and freeze like a deer in the headlights was quite amusing. To be fair, they were in a pretty rough spot, climbing the tower had been rather difficult, the various enemies and traps that had barred their way leaving a number of them dead and the rest either wounded, exhausted or both. And now, they were here, at the top of my tower, the lightly armoured scout that had been leading the way staring at me, as he tried to decide whether to step up, onto the open area or stay, hiding in the perceived safety of the narrow stairway. In truth, it didn’t really matter, this was my tower and I could kill them either on the stairs or out in the open but that would be so incredibly boring.

“You may approach the Throne and plead for mercy, if you so desire,” I spoke casually, letting Lenore take my words and amplify them, so they echoed all around the valley, almost like a magical stage whisper. From the look of fear on the scout’s face, I must have hit the right note, though the fear might also have been caused by the visual impact, the large Throne of Ice on a small dais, with the Astral Siphon that was now looking like a Black Sun acting as a backdrop, the staircase placed just so, to make the visual impact that much stronger. And on that throne, maybe somewhat eclipsed by the Black Sun behind me, was my relatively petite form, with Lenore sitting on the backrest and Ylva lounging on the ground on my other side, watching the staircase with me.

“Or you can step up and make your stand. It might be entertaining. But know, if you continue to scurry about like rats, I will treat you like vermin. You would not enjoy that treatment,” I continued, Lenore making sure that my calm, casual voice was heard throughout the tower. We had discussed what sort of demeanour I should try to project and decided that a calm, regal demeanour as if the attacking Travellers and the armies the Elves had sent were of no greater concern to me than what tea to prepare. Only worth my notice if they made a nuisance of themselves, otherwise a brief entertainment and distraction, nothing more.

We were the Ice Queen and here, in our domain, we had to act like it.

There was a brief discussion, easily audible thanks to my high Intuition, as the Travellers didn’t quite know what to make of me. So far, all enemies they had faced, other than my Simulacrum at the entrance, had appeared mindless, constructs of Ice infused with Spirits, acting in a planned and almost programmed manner, the spirits not quite certain how to act in a body. Fighting them had been difficult, some lives lost to mechanics they hadn’t been able to foresee or spent to allow another to land a finishing blow. But now, they were no longer dealing with mindless foes, they were dealing with me. And from the looks of it, they had no idea how to do that.

It took them a minute but they made their way up to the platform, caution, awe, excitement and fear all visible in their motley crew. I watched them move into a formation, not acting aggressively just yet, but clearly not begging for mercy. Waiting for a few seconds, I decided that the one person, quite gravely wounded and hiding in the stairway, would not join the fight and, with a tiny bit of magical effort, sealed the entrance with a sheet of Ice, making the staircase disappear.

“You spoke of Justice earlier, Howardlight,” I mused, my voice light as if considering an especially amusing joke, “Let’s see what happens if you look into the mirror and it shows you who you really are.”

My statement was the planned trigger and the Nidhögg brought its will to bear on the world. The Black Sun behind me gave off a burst of Dark Radiance, turning the polished, frozen surface of the platform into a mirror, reflecting the Travellers. It was merely for show but moments later, the reflections became corporeal, stepping out of the Ice and taking up position in a twisted reflection of the Traveller’s formation.

We had decided to give them a multi-stage fight and this was the first stage, courtesy of the Nidhögg and some of the remnant spirits of the valley. The Mirrored Shadows the Travellers now had to face were created by the Nidhögg, constructs that mirrored their shapes and the abilities shown further down the tower, though only a shadow of them. The Nidhögg had given them a few extra tricks, but nothing much, they were supposed to be an appetiser, not the main event.

“Fight, and entertain your Queen,” I laughed softly as I commanded the Shadows and moments later, the platform was filled with the sounds of fighting. I had no idea how the Nidhögg had done it but the shadows it had created were a lot more advanced than any construct I had created thus far and the spectacle was quite impressive. The Travellers had obviously more training with their abilities but that didn’t mean they could simply dispatch the shadows, making the whole thing a rather hard battle for them.

But not an impossible one, the Shadows weren’t supposed to defeat them after all, just entertain me and weaken them. And that was exactly as it went, I was greatly entertained to watch the Travellers fight with the closest approximation of themselves we had managed to create and from the wounds they were sporting at the end of the fight, despite quite a bit of magical healing being thrown around, they had been weakened. In addition, there had been a few rather large surges of divine magic, likely powerful, prepared spells going off, or some sort of high-value cooldown, something similar to my Avatar state.

Amusingly, the only casualty of the fight was one of their scouts or maybe calling her an assassin would be more suitable. She had thought that just because I was sitting on my throne, I was easy prey and had tried to end the battle by decapitating the dragon, namely me. It had not gone well for her and from then on, none of them had even tried to attack me on my throne.

Either way, the shadows had provided a great show and now it was time for the second act.

Still seated on my throne, I gave slow, polite applause, an amused grin on my face. Good entertainment deserved applause after all and after I gave them a minute to catch their breath, I gently scratched Ylva’s ears, giving the second signal.

Ylva rose from her casual position, padding down the stairs of my dais, her form growing as she did and her fur taking on a silvery lustre, as I surrounded her with a thin, but incredibly dense, coat of Ice. Each hair of her fur was coated individually, the conglomerate acting as armour and protecting her as she fought. Given our plan, she was to fight but not outright kill them, so I had to make sure my friend wasn’t wounded.

Similarly, Lenore took to the sky, her loud call echoing through the valley, her body similarly protected. This was the second stage of the fight, The Wolf and the Raven. Ylva let out a howl, starting the battle, and with a flex of my Astral Power, eight large wargs appeared on the platform, while Lenore was joined by a murder of Nevermores.

Again, what ensued was less of a battle and more of a play, the Nevermores and Wargs, under the leadership of Ylva and Lenore playing with the Travellers, pushing and forcing them to fight, but not seriously trying to kill them. They acted in a somewhat predictable manner, focusing on the fighters while mostly allowing the backline to act unhindered, the Nevermores only occasionally setting up a strafing run with their Icicles, never during times when the Wargs were pressing their attacks. And yet, even if they didn’t actually try to kill the Travellers, it was quite obvious that the battle was taking its toll.

To be fair, the battle also took a toll on my constructs and my two companions, though a far less obvious one. The Wargs and Nevermores could fight until they, quite literally, dropped, their bodies made of animated Ice, not mortal flesh, and the protection I had woven around Ylva and Lenore held, regardless of what the Travellers threw at them. They might get bruised, maybe a few feathers ruffled, but they didn’t get hurt.

Until finally, the last Warg fell. The Nevermores quickly dropped out of sight with Lenore in the lead, while Ylva hopped onto the dais, morphing back into her usual size. The Travellers had managed to overcome the second stage and now, it was time for the third and final act.

Mist billowing out from behind me, I rose from my Throne, the Blades of the Northern Wind rising into the air around me, as I spoke, my voice carrying a hint of amusement.

“Fine, I’ll do it myself.”