O’, BLIZZARD COMING

[louislxix 3054]

Spoiler

I do not own ANY of the artwork.

The original artists are credited.

 

TY MELPOMENNE, FRIENDLYGIRL1992, FOR FORMATTING WOW SHE IS AMAZING

 

 

 

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[Elizabeth Kenney]

 

 

O’, BLIZZARD COMING

______________________________________________

 

It was just around midnight, for the moon’s rays had just crept into the windows of the Morrivi. A mother's heels clacked down a nearby corridor, and the lively bustle of Karosgrad had begun to die down. Silently laid a young Barbanov prince, nestled within thick cotton sheets. He was left alone, for only his thoughts accompanied him.

 

“Those I see are those with tales to tell, those tales only I can hear,” 

The Barbanov prince pondered aloud, looking delicately at the crevices of his dull ceiling.

 

The peak of boredom had long been reached for Nikolas, hours past the strike of midnight in the sky.

 

“I have a gift,” 

He lulled to himself, resting an arm between a pillow and his head. 

“The stories of Arn, I heard them because I am not cursed, but because there are many more stories to be told. Those I have not met. Those who could not tell those stories, so now that duty falls to me.”

 

With that in mind, the inky-haired prince swiped a palm to cleanse the fatigue from his eyes, and climbed from the soulless agony that was his bed. Steps echoed in the dark, until the metallic squeak of a door handle sounded, and a creeping light from the hallway seeped into the room, revealing the dishevelled prince.

 

To the kitchens, he met those fallen servants, who had worked themselves to death.

To the knight crypts, he met those fallen soldiers, who had bled for King and Country.

Through the Palace halls, he had met those ancestors of his, and Maya in passing.

 

But in the palace attic he found something foul. . .

 

The attic was dark at every corner, rickety webs lined left to right, and clouds of dust billowed from each step, or blow of wind. It was tangible, the dark. Each breath broke the absolute silence of the room, which emitted relief, as the sounds of the beating heart, and clamours of the head vanquished. Light was only drawn through the crack of a circular, blue-stained window, where a ragged curtain fell over one side. Below it was a being, more wretched than the tangible dark could ever muster. It had sunken shoulders that bowed towards the window, and shrivelled skin that blinked like a poor, thin leather, stretched over the crest of a mountain.

 

Worst of all, was as it turned to the thud of Nikolas’ boot, where a decrepit smile revealed a set of yellow, shaved teeth, like a trophy.

 

VILE words spilled from his maw.

 

O’, 

             BLIZZARD COMING. . .

 

O’, 

             BLIZZARD COMING. . .

 

The Prince had no words, only a sprint that launched him back to his room in half of the time it had taken him to arrive, and a slam to his door that resounded.
 

______________________________________________

 

[Francisco Goya]

 

_______________________

 

Days turned to weeks, dawn to dusk, and yet the Prince batted only minutes of sleep. 

 

A twist of his neck, and those spewed words, it played through his mind. The unsettling apparition scared him to his core, twisting his bones with cold fear, knowing that IT was in the attic with the circular blue window.

 

O’, 

             BLIZZARD COMING. . .

 

O’, 

             BLIZZARD COMING. . .

 

It had bleared through his ears for the final time, and after a debilitated blink, Nikolas was there again. In the stained blue attic, with the wicked apparition at his front, luring him in with a taut flourish of his gangly fingers.

 

“Come here, boy. .” 

“COME. . .

 

COME!”

 

The Prince fell helpless in his exhausted state, trotting forward.

 

“Why the long face? There is much to tell, so- so much.”

Spat the creature, splatting a hand against the window which loomed over them.

 

Nikolas remained still, a dog-tired gaze falling over the creature, trapped in thoughts, 

All I can do is listen.

 

“O’, Blizzard Coming. . . O’, Blizzard Coming,” 

He started softly, though his voice turned bitter.

 

“A blanket of snow, shall there be, but NO,” 

A vile laughter halted him in his tracks.

“A covering of suffocation, and frost that no hearth can deter.”

 

“Hail will rain, the size of bricks that prop these walls, which will turn to crumble.”

 

“And- And wind that is sharp enough to cut the backs of those who do not shelter will sickle the land.”

____________

 

The creature fell tight-lipped then, sheltering those uneven gnashers, while his mangly, jaundiced eyes awaited a reaction from the boy.

 

Nikolas weighed the blizzard to come, in that dizzied state, wondering if it were true. Landed upon the stained window was a singular, warping snowflake, sowing that belief into his mind. But not all his wits were discarded to the snow, so at the turn of his heels, the Prince bound back to his bedroom, wrapping trembling hands around his head.

 

______________________________________________

 

O’, BLIZZARD COMING. . .

 

[Joseph Mallord William Turner]

________________________

 

Rain tapped at the window of Nikolas’ room, one misty night later. 

Dreams had pooled his mind, and when he had woken, the apparition left clues of his being.

 

____________

 

A nightmare of lashing winds woke him to a greening, wiry finger being dragged under his door frame.

 

 O’, Blizzard Coming.

 

One of snow that suffocated the world, woke him to an ominous silhouette in his window.

 

 O’, Blizzard Coming.

 

The last was of hail, dousing his people in death, which woke him to bitter, sallow eyes dancing in the flames of his hearth.

 

 O’, Blizzard Coming.

____________

 

It was then, prince Nikolas of Barbanov, fumbled out of his bed and to the rainy window of his room, perching himself on the ledge. Eyes of his dragged over the crimson bricked walls of Karosgrad, and out to the horizon. His numb hand pressed against the glass, smearing the condensation as he uttered those words.

 

“O’, Blizzard Coming. You are coming.”

 

________________________

 

[Maxfield Parrish]

________________________

 

Days of duty passed for Nikolas. Friends were told to stock up for the winter, to buy rooms worth of food, so they could last. The purse of his mother was drained, and servants were ordered to pool together an entire vault of coal, so that an eternal fire could be kept ablaze for the blizzard to come. In every crevice of the Palace, thick blankets, rugs, and coats were hidden under floorboards, and in closets, so that his family could be stowed away from the blizzard to come.

 

Though halfway through the hall to his bedroom, his mother, Amadea of Susa flanked his front and folded her arms, sighing gently at the bundle of blankets nestled between his chest and arms, 

“Oh Chero, you do not need more coats, blankets– take them back!”

 

Nikolas halted before her, and as if comparing a portrait between the prince and the creature, a lopsided smile, and sallow eyes flitted up to Amadea.

“O’, Blizzard Coming.”

 

[Melpomenne 1552]

Spoiler

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

[Elizabeth Kenney]

 

 

______________________________________________

 

Within an oddly shaped home, as dishes soared, cleansing themselves, a young girl ran about. Her calloused, bare-feet marked sweat prints upon the waxed wooden floors with every step. The gaggles of cats squealed with unease as their gazes trailed her every move. 

 

“Blankets! O’ momma! I need blankets!”

No voice returned, for her mother was not home. Instead, her newest addition to the Lesanov-Falcone brood chimed in return.

“WELCOME TO VINO E SIGARI! WELCOME TO VINO E SIGARI!”

The automaton bird squealed repeatedly.

 

Mischa, seemingly understanding the thing's call, returned with a hasty:
“No! They are not in the drawers, Gino. I already checked- gee!”

As the girl ran from the spire of her home, all the way to the hidden nooks below, the lively kitchen prepared meals upon meals- soon to be packaged and sent off for the north.

[_mady07 1066]

Emélie Ada Rousile 

[!] The young green-haired girl with a rather sunny disposition hadn't any idea of the Prince's conditions, however her gaze paled slightly while she stood on the tip of her toe's looking outside at Karosgrad's city line - "It will.. it will all be perfectly fine." decided the young De Falstaff child. "What could go wrong."
 

[esotericas 1507]

Manon heeded her friend's warnings - spending what money she had on an extra blanket, healthy food. Her mind was elsewhere, though, her stomach knotted with worry - not for Haense, but for Nikolas. 

[shay 2200]

 

The days of the Haeseni Summer continued to pass, the heat the same as the days before, but still the Queen noticed a continual degradation of the blanket stock within the Spring Palace. The thief of the aforementioned quilts was no secret to those within the Palace, however the proper reasoning continued to remain unknown. 

"Perhaps we should have him looked at"

commented she one night to the father of the sleepless boy

@GMRO

[garentoft 8352]

Georg plopped a few more pieces of firewood into his hearth, before retreating to his couch, laying down lazily in it. There he laid, time wasting, blizzard coming.

[GMRO 5245]

A man unconcerned by missing blankets sat out upon a balcony, glancing off into a sky dazzled and bejewelled with a thousand stars. Upon murmurings by a recently returned Queen, he looked back. A hesitancy filled the air before he spoke in a low tone. 

 

"Have him looked at? We shall send him to the Oracle, I am sure he shall be right as rain. Or I suppose I best speak to him."

 

[ReveredOwl 5314]

"This child will grow up to kill people, hes already beating his sister.." remarked Ser Walton quietly to himself.

[satinkira 5797]

A being laughed for glee.