With snow comes darkness. Within darkness... lies the Legion.

Text: The youngest prince was born with crows wings, and kindly kept as a sort of pet. He disappeared quietly into the northern woods, five years before the death of most of his family.

“I’d rather die.”

Text: It’s Bleeding Day. Brilliant color floods the river, blue and red streaming into sweet lavender. 

“Why don’t you find out?” 

Text: The House of Red Glass sits behind a towering gate. They say your reflection talks to you in there, all distorted by the strange blood colored walls. 

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Text: Every new winter child has its heart removed, and preserved in a snow globe. I keep mine with me, which I’m told is dangerous and stupid. 

Text: I am lost. The night here comes irregularly, and I’m starting to think it’s alive. A strange rumbling tears through the darkness, a bone shaking, tuneless lullaby. 

Text: A Silent Snow has fallen here. My footsteps make no sound, glowing faintly silver in my wake. I can’t even hear my own heartbeat. 

Text: It’s hard to properly dispose of dark spirits, but any mirror makes a good cage. Each morning I brush my teeth, my reflection crowded between a very long waiting list. 

Text: Rain Bringers slept a lot, when they weren’t harvesting clouds. Their eyes held no color, and their blood was barely red, so thin rumor said you could drink it and escape a thirsty death. 

Text: They burned me for witchcraft on this very ship. A hundred years later my deck is weathered, my speed is unmatched, and I’m still furious. 

Text: There’s a strange little door in the back of the flower shop. It leads to a dark little garden, in a dark little world, hiding dark little secrets. 

“I see the red strings of fate,” she whispered. “You should know, it looks like yours is trying to choke you.” 

Text: The snake was her best friend, her confidant, and when startled, her very venomous sword.