A Court Of Ice And Glory 1 (ACOTAR FF)

Chapter 1 - Marian (prologue)

A cold breeze blows over the hills towards the capital of the Winter Court. Its glittering facade gleams in the soft sunlight, creating a magnificent impression. It surely is a mighty place, a city of dreams and hopes.

As it is the Winter Court, the capital rises out of snow, so deep that you could sink under it. The vastly icy landscape blends perfectly with the architecture of the city. Majestic palaces and towers carved from ice and frost rise above the city. From there, the view extends over the entire capital and even beyond, into the sheer endless cold.

During the early morning, the city is quiet, with a sense of calm and stillness. It would take just one more hour and the peaceful streets of the capital will be filled with enterprising locals and singing children.

🎔

Deep in the hinterland something rumbles. Even from the highest tower, its origin cannot be discerned. While the people sleep comfortably in their beds, something approaches them.

With mighty powers, stronger than anyone would suspect, an army of hundreds of men thunders across the deep blankets of snow.

Whatever happens next, happens too quickly. Footpaths cut through the deep snow, penetrate into the city and suck out all the silence and grace of the capital. It doesn't take long and people are crying and screaming out their pain.

🎔

Rhendrar, who was up all night, busts his door open. His small town house is placed on the outskirts of the town, far from the High Lord's palace, far from the arriving soldiers. But despite the distance, the screams of the people can be heard loudly. Rhendrar stands still, perfectly frozen in his movement, as he realizes what is happening. His heart beats fast. Not a single breath escapes his lungs.

With fast steps he rushes through the moving masses of people. People, who run wild and uncoordinated through the streets. Children as well as adults run towards him crying, some of them wounded. Further down towards the center of the city, dark clouds of smoke rise up. Loud cracking of ice echoes through the streets as one of the tall towers collapses, burying all life beneath it. The intruders - no, the conquerors - have already swept through half the city and suffered hardly any losses themselves.

Never in his life has Rhendrar seen such a scene. He is too young to know war, too young to have lived through invasion and such misery. In all of his 203 years of life, Rhendrar was a kid of peace. A peace that is collapsing right before his eyes.

In a gripping panic, he continues to meander through dying masses, along rivers of blood and stinking fear. He manages to make his wax into the center of the capital. Rhendrar stops abruptly in the heart of the chaos and keeps his eyes open. Two foreign soldiers spot him in his white robe and rush towards him. With a powerful swing, Rhendrar draws his sword along their throats, spattering his robe with their blood. As Rhendrar's eyes follow the falling bodies, he notices a small child lying next to them. He takes a step forward until he realizes that the child is already dead.

This is hell, he thinks and this might be the end.

No matter where he looks, there is no way out of this turmoil. Screams soaked in range and pain echo down from the facades. Screams that tighten his guts. A bitter taste spreads across his tongue. A painful thought crosses his mind. Somewhere in the middle of these moving masses had to be his best friend, Marian. And he would rather lose his own life than knowing she was hurt. But stuck between death and destruction there is no hope of salvation. Despite it all, he sets out to find the person he would never forsake. Quickly Rhendrar turns around to the bloody street that leads to Marian's house.