A guttural cry tore from Vahagn, a sound Narineh had never heard, laced with agony and absolute fury. His body pulsed with raw, untamed cold, the air around him thickening into a visible haze. Ice raced across the crypt floor, spiraling towards Siran, but halted abruptly, deflected by an unseen barrier that shimmered around the regent and her guards. Koryun stood motionless, the artifact clutched in his hands, its stolen light now a pulsating, sickly green, mirroring the horror on his face. “Master?” Vahagn snarled, his voice a low grind of shifting ice. “There is no master but the entity itself, and it consumes all. You are a fool, Siran, to believe it offers anything but oblivion.” Siran laughed, a brittle, high-pitched sound that grated against the stone. “Oblivion for the weak, perhaps. For those who cling to a dying world, ruled by cycles of sun and rot. My master offers a new order. An eternal stasis. A realm sharpened by endless frost, where life will be preserved, unchanging, uncorrupted.” Her gaze, sharp and cold, swept over Koryun. “And for those who serve, eternal vitality. Power. Immortality, even.” Narineh felt the world tilt. Immortality. The promise that had twisted Siran into this monstrous architect of ruin. “But… the frost is killing my home. It’s a blight!” she cried, her voice trembling, though she fought to keep it steady. “A necessary culling,” Siran corrected, her lips forming a thin, cruel line. “The realm of Nairi is too soft, too fertile. It breeds weakness. My master, once fully unleashed, will bring true strength. I have served this purpose for decades, little bride, long before you were even a thought in your provincial lord’s mind.” Her eyes narrowed, fixing on Vahagn. “Did you truly believe your family's deaths were an accident? A random bandit raid?” She shook her head, wearing a mock pity that made Narineh's throat tighten in revulsion. “Oh, my dear boy. So naïve, even then.” The crypt seemed to expand, the air growing impossibly heavy as Siran’s voice dropped, weaving a narrative of betrayal that turned Narineh’s stomach to ice. *The crackle of brittle leaves underfoot. A child’s small, quick steps through the moonlit gardens of Vorotan. He was Vahagn, no older than six cycles of the sun, chasing a lost glow-beetle. The night air was sharp, carrying the distant strains of music from the main hall, a celebration for his father and mother sealing the relic's power, a ritual that had taken weeks of cryomancy. He’d heard the guards’ shouts, brief and muffled, dismissed them as playful sparring. Until the music stopped. The sudden quiet was a heavy blanket, suffocating. He rounded a corner of the sculpted hedges, a child’s worry a tight knot in his stomach. Then he saw them. Two figures, crumpled, unmoving, beside the ancient, moss-covered sundial. His mother’s auburn hair fanned out on the flagstones, her eyes wide, staring at nothing. His father’s hand was still outstretched, as if reaching for her, a dark stain blossoming on his tunic. A small, exquisite sunpetal, dried and pressed, lay half-crushed beneath his father’s palm. The glow-beetle, forgotten, pulsed its faint light by his boot. A woman stood over them, her face obscured by the deep hood of a cloak, but her posture was familiar, elegant, even in the dim light. She knelt, her hand reaching for a dark, glowing orb embedded in the pedestal of the sundial. His mother’s core talisman. A faint, almost imperceptible gleam caught his eye—the glint of a small, sharp blade in her gloved hand. He stifled a gasp, retreating into the deeper shade, his small body shaking uncontrollably. As the woman straightened, her hood slipped back just enough for the moonlight to catch her profile. Siran. Her lips were curved in a faint, satisfied smile. A sound tore from him, a raw, primal scream of anguish that was swallowed by the sudden, terrifying explosion of cold. Ice erupted from his small hands, sharp shards flying, coating everything in a deathly sheen. The gardens, the sundial, the fallen bodies—all were instantaneously encased in a shimmering mausoleum of frost. The gem on the pedestal pulsed wildly, greedily, binding his grief, his power, his very essence to the ancient seal his forebears had just died trying to maintain. Siran watched, unmoving, her smile widening into a triumphant leer as the boy, consumed by a chilling aura, collapsed over his parents’ frozen forms.* The flashback snapped back, the stark reality of the crypt crushing Narineh. Siran’s voice, now clearer, colder, pierced through the echoes of the past. “His grief was a gift. It bound him to the relic, an ideal guardian. So easy to manipulate, so easy to nurture his despair. For years, I fed his sorrow, ensuring he would never question the ‘curse’ of his lineage, never truly understand the power he wielded, only the burden.” She glanced at the core still clutched by Koryun. “Until this meddlesome bride arrived, stirring his frozen chest.” Vahagn roared, a sound that cracked the very air. “You will pay, Siran. For them. For everything.” He lunged, a whirlwind of furious frost, but Siran merely extended a hand. A lash of shimmering dark energy emanated from her, colliding with Vahagn and throwing him back against a stone pillar. He gasped, a guttural sound, frost receding from his skin as if fighting a losing battle. He slid to the floor, struggling to rise, a crimson trickle at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, you’re weakened, dear boy,” Siran purred, observing him with detached interest. “The entity needs its full strength, and the strain of holding it back has taken its toll. Which brings us to you, little scholar.” She turned her full attention to Koryun, who still held the now wildly pulsing Heartstone. Its greenish light intensified, illuminating the stark terror in his eyes. “You wanted to save her, didn’t you?” Siran’s voice was a silken snare, preying on Koryun’s deepest desire. “To free her from this cold marriage, this sacrifice. I can offer you that. Join me. Help usher in the new age. An orderly, absolute world, free from the chaos of sun-drenched growth and decay. A world where Narineh will be safe, forever preserved, by your side. All you have to do is… let go.” Her eyes flicked to the Heartstone. “Release the seal fully. It’s just a push now. You’ve done the hardest part.” Koryun drew a sharp, stuttering gasp, his knuckles white around the gem. He looked at Narineh, her face pale with horror, then at the struggling Vahagn, whose body was now rimmed with visible, painful ice, fighting against Siran’s insidious influence. Narineh felt a fresh surge of dread. Koryun’s desire to protect her, his resentment for her sacrifices, was being twisted against them. “See what happens when you resist?” Siran scoffed, her patience wearing thin. With a gesture, she channeled dark energy into the Heartstone. A sickening *crack* echoed through the crypt. The gem fractured, a jagged line appearing across its surface, and the malevolent green light flared with blinding intensity. A surge of frigid air, far colder than anything Vahagn had ever produced, erupted from the stone, lashing out at Narineh. She cried out, her skin instantly stinging, ice blooming on her eyelashes. Vahagn let out another strangled gasp, falling completely to one knee, the frost around him faltering. Siran smiled, a predator closing in. “This is just a taste, little scholar. Release it, and everything will be stabilized. Refuse, and watch her freeze before your eyes.” Koryun looked at the cracked Heartstone, then at Vahagn, and made his move.

The Regent's Confession