Deep within a cave beneath a snow capped mountain, a large tree-like structure made entirely of a haunting stained ice was rooted within the stone of an open chamber. At the base of the altar stood a Fjarriagua adorn in a black hooded set of draping robes with her eyes shut harshly. The visions flashed through her head and she'd raise her stilleto'd nails to rake through her snowy hair, the intensity of the prophecy nearly causing her to loose her footing. She'd step forward, slapping her right hand against the trunk of the altar and her eyes shot open, releasing a haunting blue glow from her irises. Eileen, the Banshee Queen, began to shutter before drawing her attention back to the reflection of herself in the vile structure of magic before her.
"What? This, this cannot be..."