Blood dripped down through the air. It spread out like veins over the ice. Twisting and turning in the grey as snow fell upon it, becoming consumed by the scarlet. The innocent white forever spoiled.

                Wind was streaked with agony as it blew furiously at all who would defy it. The clouds bled as the warmth was replaced by the bitter cold, life itself wilting from the loss.

                The vengeful spirits of deadly ice fought with their swords of bone. Shedding the blood, the essence of the leaf clad warriors who opposed them, using their bows of vine and arrows of mistletoe only to lose against their rabid opponents. The sky crying for its fallen comrades.

                Everything watched with attentive eyes as war raged and the sky screamed, being imprisoned by the grey void of nightmares. The barbarians of the cold thundering at their victory.

                Rivers froze and grieved as frosty white fell upon the world, bleached and lifeless. Everything so close to light yet never able to touch it.

                Survivors faded into the shadows, waiting, watching, until they were strong once again. Until they could wage war and this time win.

                Then the world would be light once again.