The angels of the circle are a strange people rooted securely to the center of the Winter. Cold and aloof, they heed the call of The World Horn yet show no fealty to the monarchy or participate in any politics. Their Queens are near immortal beings as old as The Age of Scions. Though rare, The Angel Queens are sometimes spurred into action. Uriel Fayde, angered by an unknown slight, descended upon the court of The Orc King, Gorgamesh, one cold night. None but a single priest of The Unbroken Circle was spared to tell the story of the massacre.

-The Third Verses of Creation

Tall drooping pines stretched in every direction for as far as the eye could see. Noon on the third day out from Kronanhold, the expedition followed an ancient path towards a quaint wooden inn. Burnt into the wood of a swinging sign out front was a huge eye sitting on a bed. The huge structure towered larger than some of the mansions in dwarven highlands. When glimpsed for the first time, most thought of a lord's manor. Most never learned The Watcher's Rest was owned by Samuel, Queen of the Angels, the closest thing one could be to a Winter Lord without a link to the Hall of Ice. Powerful and terrible, the innkeeper maintained an establishment on the edge of the civilized lands of Winter.

The stables were huge, but never built to accommodate so many mounts. The space was packed to the brim and the stable hands, a quartet of hardy middle-aged women, were hard-pressed to handle them all. Some of the pack animals were forced to huddle together outside. Akiko voiced fear of the animals being forgotten, but even as she convinced Haiku to inquire about their treatment, one of the the stablewomen came out with a large bundle of straw across her shoulders and a bucket of water in each hand.

While Haru didn't speak much during the first few days of the trip north, she and Akiko stayed close to Llaysl, Haiku and Jordan. They pitched their tents together and ate their meals together, occasionally joined by Jaq. She eyed the huge inn warily as the mercenaries and soldiers funneled inside in little groups.

"Are you okay?" Jordan asked, coming up beside her. He didn't expect an answer. She'd avoided his questions whenever she could.

"There are angels in there... a lot of them."

"Are you afraid? They can–"

"Being around them makes me nauseous. Something about them triggers my gift, makes my senses go crazy."

"I know very little about bridgers. How does your gift work?" Again, he'd expected her to snap at him and walk away, but it didn't deter him from trying to engage her in conversation.

Haru rubbed her temple and sighed.

"I... I feel every living thing around me like a pinprick along my arm." She ran a hand up her left sleeve. "When there is pain the pinprick becomes a stabbing sensation. When there is death... I feel it in my bones. I don't sense the undead at all, and the presence of a single angel makes everything else bounce around like skittering insects. It's... disorienting."

She swayed dangerously and grabbed his arm to steady herself. He patted her hand and guided her towards the wagon she and Akiko shared with some of the other specialists. Most of the others had gone inside to enjoy the warmth and comfort of the inn after days riding in the cold. He helped her step up into the back of the wagon and climbed up beside her. They sat in silence for a bit beneath a gentle snow fall.

"Were you taken in by The Order because of your bridging?" he eventually asked.

"In a way." She looked up at the snow-capped forest canopy. "Bridgers can be taught to sense potential in others. They are sent out as pilgrims with the secondary purpose of seeking out gifted children. They search orphanages and slums mostly, but... but there are no codes barring them from other places as well."

"Where did they find you?"

He'd already realized she wasn't really answering his questions, but using him to say things that she'd needed to share but lacked a sympathetic ear.

"I grew up in an orphanage south of Pailoah. A bridger found me there and purchased me with two others. It was after I was tested that my gift revealed itself. One of the others was burned out by her own magiks. The other became a nullifier, the man Nimitz who tried to censor me. Only nullifiers can censor."

"He was your friend..."

"Long ago." She sighed and her shoulders slumped. "As seedlings we are given to a gardener for nurturing and teaching. Gardener Firbolg was a cruel man, but gifted in magik and full of deep forestlore. I hated him, but I trusted him, until Akiko arrived. I don't know where she came from, but she used to speak of a tribe or clan."

Jordan's heart quickened, human tribes existed only in The Orestine Provinces and the lands around it. His people, The Mdu, once called those lands home.

"Gardener Firbolg was hard on her. He worked hard to make her forget where she'd come from, forget the name she was born with. Over time, his lessons became cruel and I complained to a visiting Gardener. She dismissed my concerns, her focus more on Akiko than any complaint of mine. When I was ready to be elevated to Initiate, Firbolg refused to contact The Order and send me to perform the rituals.

I went to confront him one night and I caught him... doing something to Akiko. My skin crawled with the feel of it and a madness grabbed me. I hit him over the head... and kept hitting him until he stopped moving. Then I grabbed Akiko and ran."

She fell silent as she relived that night.

"How long ago was that?"

"Almost three years."

Silence fell like the snow and they sat together until Sir Pietro came looking for Jordan with yet another summons from The King.

Jordan found Malcedayne in a private sitting room, seated at a dining table made for two. Ryan, his poison taster sat at the head of the table, quietly humming to himself. The boy rarely spoke except on the few occasions he was allowed to play with Akiko. Absinthe sat in a corner, picking her teeth with the point of a small knife. As Jordan walked in, she grinned broadly. King Malcedayne stood by the fireplace looking to all as if he listened to powerful music playing. The Night whispered a song only he could hear.

"How has the trip been treating you, Lord Scoiden?" The King asked, staring down at the dancing flames in the hearth. The question felt practiced.

"My thighs are becoming reacquainted with travel by horseback, your majesty. And you?"

The young king turned as if startled. "Me? Uh, well... I haven't traveled much. The carriage has its comforts, but it's... restrictive."

Jordan nodded. "Maybe you can spend some time each day riding with the driver or astride your own mount. Do you know how to ride, Majesty?"

"I had lessons as a youth, but most of my life was spent within Isdaggen."

"Knowing that makes your willingness to take this longshot even more impressive. The Heart and the lands of deepest Winter are cold and harsh, uncaring and unforgiving. There are hardened adventurer's who wouldn't dare."

"Are you trying to frighten me, Lord Scoiden?"

"No. I'm letting you know I'm impressed."

The King watched Jordan for a moment, a smile fighting to take hold of his stoic expression.

Someone knocked and Jordan stepped aside. The door swung open and an average height woman swept into the room, garbed like a serving girl and carrying a wide tray laden with food. Her feet hovered an inch above the floor as she moved around the table and placed the tray between the two place settings. No one looked directly at the woman while she laid out the steaming meal, the lion's share going to the plate in front of the boy.

The woman's face, like that of all the inn's staff, was disconcerting. No eyes, no mouth, just the contours of what should have been. Angels, their shadows swirling masses of rings, orbs, and feathers. The sight of all the angelic staff left even the toughest adventurer's ill at ease. One didn't need Haru's gift to be uncomfortable.

After the serving woman left, the boy tasted every piece of food then patiently waited for his fate. Jordan wondered what it would be like to be offered up as sacrifice to ensure that The King was not poisoned. He suspected it was similar to being sent to an enemy nation as a symbol of a tentative peace.

Once the food was deemed safe, King Malcedayne gestured for Jordan to be seated then asked Absinthe and Ryan to give them some privacy. After a prayer to The Unbroken Circle, the young monarch began to eat. Jordan savored the smell of roasted fowl, winter greens, and mushrooms. He'd yet to get used to such robust meals after so many long years of living off of the swamp's meager fair. He licked his lips as he forced himself to slow down and use the cutlery arrayed beside the plate. He was in the presence of royalty after all.

"Lord Iceblood told me that in your youth you spent some years in the Summer Palace."

"Nearly twelve, your majesty. I trained alongside the last queen." Jordan tore into the food, focusing on forking bird into his mouth rather than the memories of centuries past.

"Yes, Shakia Krylight. He'd told me that as well. They say she was a kind ruler and an unparalleled warrior."

"Her mother was a compassionate monarch who worked hard to mend the schism as best she could. She and your great grandfather were good friends. As far as her prowess on the battlefield, she'd been trained by some of Summer's greatest warriors."

"As were you..." Malcedayne paused with a fork of mushrooms nearly to his mouth. "Were you better than her, in the end? The stories surrounding the last Season War are varied and conflicting."

"I killed her, but I don't think I ever bested her."

As if conjured by their words, Jordan watched as his swift strike drew a line across her unprotected throat, a strike meant for an unknown attacker.

"Lord Scoiden?"

"Yes?" Jordan snapped, willing himself back to the present. "I'm sorry, your majesty, I was distracted."

"I asked your thoughts on the two kingdoms back then. I... I have a dream I would share with you, if you'll listen."

"As your humble servant, I would be honored."

A genuine smile softened Malcedayne's hard face and he sipped his wine.

"Shiaderah and Malcin's reign marked a time of unprecedented peace, because of the unity between them, their friendship. In many ways it represents a time where we were one kingdom under their joint rule." He scooped up a bit of freeze berry sauce on his knife and smeared it across a slice of fowl. "A single rulership. One king governing all of the land. I've seen it in my dreams and I've heard it sung on the flickering shadows."

Jordan chewed, aware of The King's expectant gaze upon him. He didn't know this king, wasn't familiar with his temperament and caprice. Experience reminded him to speak carefully.

"Monarchs have tried to rule both sides of The Schism before. The results have often been bloody and expensive, usually amounting to nothing more than broken kingdoms."

"Those attempts have been well documented, and I won't make their mistakes," The King snapped. "Those attempts had always been heralded by war and the capture of the opposing monarchy. Look at the state of things. Summer has no monarchy and their lords, or whatever they call themselves, are at each other's throats."

"They call themselves Regents, your majesty."

"Once I've taken the winds and cold fully under my control, we can march on Summer and establish true order, one order. My order."

"That sounds like you want to push the lands into war after all the people have endured."

"No." Pushing up from the table. Malcedayne paced, his voice gaining strength with each circuit. "You aren't listening. Summer is at war with itself. The warring factions have all entreated me for support. Whoever I throw in with, whoever is willing to share my vision, will cow the others with the strength of Winter behind them."

"What of The Summer Vessel? This forever winter won't stop until both seasons are fully controlled."

Malcedayne turned, his eyes clouding over with wisps of shadow.

"Once I've established my unified kingdom, then we will find an appropriate vessel and repair the cycle that has been broken."

Jordan stared at the young man. What of this ambition was his and what was The Night whispering in his ear? If this was what The Unbroken Circle demanded, then it was part of its great plan. Maybe this was his chance to mend the world...

"I've only shared my vision with one other Winter Lord. But The Night says you'll be integral in bringing forth the age to come." Malcedayne returned to the table for his wine glass. Finishing the contents he looked towards the darkest corner of the ceiling and nodded to unspoken words. "I have faith that you will help me. Why else would you have been brought back?"

Jordan wondered the same thing.

The King sat and lapsed into silence as he listened to the shadows. Jordan finished his meal and contemplated Malcedayne's plan. One nation, ruled over by a single powerful King. Heralded by a sharp whistle, a glass orb appeared at the center of the table, wobbling as if suddenly dropped. A single eye of icy blue irises appeared in its depths.

"Samuel comes to speak with you, majesty," a disembodied voice breathed.

The entire room shook and suddenly she was there just inside the closed door. Seven feet tall, she was draped in a blue cloth so dark it could have been black. Floating around her at waist height was a single ring of gold and ebony, as thick as Jordan's wrist and large enough to easily encompass him and his chair. A great coldness emanated from the angel queen that had little to do with the temperature, though Jordan noticed his wine swiftly cooling.

"You requested an audience, future king of Winter?" Samuel's voice came from beneath the dark drape as if it originated from much further off.

Jordan noticed The King's posture stiffen.

"I wish to speak to you concerning your visions of the future."

"What we witness can be altered just by the seeing." Jordan felt her gaze settle on him, like a frigid weight. "Certain events completely alter what is and what will be."

"Even so, I... I need to know the possible outcomes of my plans." Malcedayne turned to Jordan. "If you would excuse us, Lord Scoiden."

Jordan stood and bowed, happy to get away from the powerful and enigmatic creature towering over them.

"Samuel." He gave her a shallow bow.

"Future king of Winer," she sighed, bowing in turn.

The King's brow furrowed, the young stoic face becoming angry and suspicious. The change lasted for a heartbeat before he got his emotions under control. He watched Jordan leave with unreadable eyes. Once on the other side of the door, Jordan took a moment to ponder on the angel queen's words.

"What did she mean by that?" he said to himself.

"What was it, what did she say?" Absinthe asked excitedly.

Ignoring her, Jordan left to find Llaysl and the girls.