The Valley

Once, along time go, there was a tower, but there was no princess locked at the top, the tower was built from fire and stone, taller then the eye could see. And at the very top of this tower, which swayed with every slight breeze, was a room. It was a room designed like no other, guarded by gargoyle, their mouth’s agape, their eyes rolling and their bodies twisted and crumbling. In side the wall were adorned with gold and it shone as the sun cascaded through the window, spilling light into every dark corner. In the very centre of this room stood a throne. This throne was draped with fine silk’s and fur, vibrant reds and azure blues. And behind this fine material it was more gold and silver. The room had many fine object’s jewel’s and crystal’s and one large mirror, stationed at the end, it climbed from the floor to the roof. Beside’s this mirror was a archway, a large frame with heavy wooden door’s, locked and bolted of coarse. And opposite this door was a bed. This bed was covered in more silk’s, but pale cream’s this time, the large draping curtain’s that hung from either side had been pushed back. And lying on this bed, her hands by her side and her beautiful eyes closed, was my spoilt princess. And as she slept she dreamt, she dreamt of many things, finer jewels and silks and a bigger grander castle. And ever day one she had finished dreaming she would wake and move to her window, gazing down upon her lands, their green field’s and golden crop’s, the busy market square and the donkey’s at work. Everyday she swore that she would get to work on making her land larger, but every day she sat in her throne and watched herself in her mirror and slowly her lands fell. My vain little princess, she was fair and beautiful but there was nothing beautiful about her heart for it was black and burnt, crumbled up so tightly that saving it was not an option, yet she still kept on breathing. Her lands fell dark, and dead, the grass brown and the sky black, the people fell sick and slowly, one by one, began to die. The Queen sealed of her door’s to the world and locked herself away and made herself listen to their screams as they died.

She ignored them, their pleas to move, she denied them medicine and told them that they should suffer and as her eyes fell over a crying baby she laughed and closed her window. She blocked herself of from the world and lived all alone in her castle, her room filled with gold. She thought that was all she needed herself her gold and her mirror, she could sit and stare at herself everyday. But she grew tired weak and ill, her skin began to stretch and for two years all you could hear was the witch queen’s scream’s. The gold began to dim and all around the tower the wall’s began to crumble and the forest began to grow, it sprang up from nowhere trapping her in her castle even more. And one day as she lay upon her bed holding her hand before her face she spoke. A curse to all the men who so dare step foot in her forest, she set a spell, a dark one. Doom to all. My spoilt vain little princess, did not die. She was still trapped there. Trapped in that tall, tower, in her own mind, and she fought against it so vainly. She destroyed herself from the inside out.

ICE QUEEN had been called forth from her shadows and towards the Valley again. But why was only one curious question that snaked through her mind. She had heard of The Archer’s tip off and was only upset that it had happened before she had managed to arrive at Heaven’s Gate. My girl, my little Leopard of the Neem Pech. Sleek and elegant she moved, like a cat winding herself through the shadows until she came upon the small group, a tainted smirk slapped over her features. Debate? She caught Dargon’s words and cocky a thin brow. Debating had never been one of her strong points but she was fare at it. Her eyes spoke nothing but interest as she took a small step into the group. Many talked, they spoke their code names of coarse. ICE QUEEN had yet be used to calling herself Leopard. Many asked question’s, many spoke words but ICE QUEEN stood in silence, that was until a mare, that called herself Piranha spoke. ICE QUEEN tossed her head carefully her eyes narrowing in thought.

maybe from now on there could be tests or trial’s for joining. It should make people think twice about becoming Neem Pech. Separate those that are half enthusiastic and those that really want it. It might make spies and those craving to be heroic give in. she suggested, mostly to herself however it was loud enough to hear. For now she had little to say. It was time to listen.

ICE QUEEN
leopard of the Neem Pech