The Miserable King of Ice

Once upon a time, there was a forest, oh so green. Sparkling, yes, almost glowing with life. But one awful day, a shadow loomed the woods, painting the forest in hues of death.

Shh, here he comes. See how he slumps his back, notice how beads of ice trail his white cheeks. That’s the face of a man who is at hope’s end — the face of a man who by his very existence breeds misery.

The ground cracks where he treads, warmth becomes cold, and life becomes death. He is the man who was cursed by Ice — forced to carry on this evil purge forevermore. And now he has come to a forest previously filled with life, watching the dwindling forest through hollow eyes.

With a sweep of his arm, he penetrates the forest’s last defenses. The touch of Ice creeps inside the poor trees, freezing them from inside out. They are dying, oh, the forest is crying!

A storm of vengeful souls gathers around their bane, cursing him, hating him.

“Damn you!” They say.

“Damn you!” Howls the miserable king of Ice.

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