1 Prologue

The Rune Wars ended in a horrifying catastrophe, causing many states and peoples to disappear from the face of the earth. Those who survived faced unimaginable difficulties, and the wounds inflicted on the world continued to be felt for a long time. The survivors toughened up and created a settlement that united, and the fortress of Nexus became one of the fortresses that withstood the destruction. The mighty walls served as a shelter for the suffering. Food was scarce, times were hard, but people found the strength to rise from the darkness. They gathered their spirits to move forward and restore what was lost.

At the other end of the continent, caravans of survivors discovered a tree that protected them from terrifying magic. This tree had the unique ability to absorb and neutralize any magical energy. Dark wizards and creatures of darkness no longer posed a threat. Thus, the kingdom of Demacia was born, the foundation of whose people was built on hatred for cursed magic and what it had brought with it.

In the northern part of the continent, where life was already difficult due to the severe cold, war touched this land as well. The echoes of battles reached far, destroying the already meager lands and crops. Hunger leads a person to anger; when you see your children dying of hunger, you are forced to take up arms and fight for food, for survival. Freljord, the continent of eternal winter, where gods walk among mortals. Truth has no meaning for them, nothing that concerns them.

The continent was engulfed in war, where the strong took food from the weak, and the weak, in turn, tried to survive, making desperate attempts to resist the strong. Many clans attacked each other, seeking to provide their people with another day and avoid a hungry death. This continued for several years until life in this cold country began to awaken again.

The land returned to life: plants bloomed again in the warm valleys of Freljord. The population of the region significantly decreased, which allowed for an increase in the breeding opportunities of animals. People were restoring crops that had been severely affected during the war. Perhaps if they could overcome their rage and anger, focusing their efforts on restoring resources, this war, caused by hunger, could have been avoided. Well, there is no turning back now; all they can do is look ahead and hope for a better future.

Freljord was home to three main clans. The Avarosan tribe, the smallest of them, follows the teachings of Avarosa. This tribe welcomes change and prefers to resolve conflicts peacefully. Located in the warmer regions of Freljord, suitable for agriculture, the Avarosan, despite their peaceful nature, have many strong warriors ready to defend their tribe.

The Frostguard is a mysterious cult, whose members live in the far north among ancient ruins, guarding their leader Lissandra, who watches over the Howling Abyss. While their missionaries and healers can be found throughout Freljord.

The warlike tribe of the Winter's Claw steadfastly follows the traditions of their ancestors. In the summer, the tribe stocks up on food in the highlands, in the forest, and along the northern rivers, and in winter they raid the southern lands, crossing the frozen seas on ice. The strongest warriors are born in this tribe, ready to fearlessly rush into the heat of battle, and if you have the courage to push them to the edge, be prepared to give your life.

In one of the settlements of this tribe, a child was born who was very different from the others. Usually, when a child was born into a family, they reflected the traits of their parents, were resistant to cold, and had strong health. But nature deprived young Kailen - he turned out to be weak and suffered from any draft of cold air. He had to be wrapped in many woolen blankets to prevent him from freezing. While other children grew stronger and coped better with the cold, Kailen remained as frail and sickly.

His mother, despite the child's poor health, believed that he would recover and in the future become a mighty warrior, unmatched by anyone. But the father did not love his son. He could not stand weakness and believed only in strength, being a born warrior. He heard the mockery of his fellow tribesmen - if the child was born like this, then he inherited it from his parents. This drove him into a rage. How could they doubt his strength? Only by a miracle did he not kill this child with his own hands. His wife stood in his way each time, calming him, saying that a little more and he would become strong. Unfortunately, years passed, but the child did not become stronger.

Kailen turned nine, and he could hardly go outside - the merciless cold was too harsh on him. His peers were already learning to handle weapons, accompanying their fathers on hunts, and studying the art of survival in the forest. Kailen understood that he had to become strong, as others simply would not survive here. He tried to train, even tried to cast spells, but it all ended in a cold and the inability to get out of bed.

The father's patience came to an end. So one day, he couldn't stand it anymore and decided to put an end to it all. He returned home with a frown. His wife greeted him at home with a ready dinner, while Kailen sat at the table, waiting for his father.

"Later, son, get ready, we're going hunting," the head of the family said grimly.

"Dear, Kailen is not ready for this," the wife objected cautiously. She saw his discontent growing and understood that the child would not survive such a trip.

"He's ready," the head of the family said coldly.

"My husband, I beg you, for me," she pleaded.

"No, either he comes out himself, or I'll throw him out and take him with me," he issued an ultimatum.

The crying woman had no choice; she knew these were not empty words, he would do just that. With trembling hands, she began to prepare her son for the hunt, trying to give him some chance of survival. Gathering the warmest clothes and stocking up all the possible food, she hugged her son tightly and didn't want to let him go.

"Everyone, let's go," the head of the family said, pushing his wife away from their son. He dragged the boy out by the hand.

The doors of the house opened, letting in a terrible blizzard and a chilling cold that sent shivers down the spine. The father handed the son a bow and, without a word, tightened his belongings and set off. Kailen tried not to lag behind. Although he had no love for his father, he knew he wouldn't survive alone.

The blizzard grew stronger, the wind was so strong that it was difficult to breathe, and the lungs burned as if thousands of small splinters were cutting through them. The temperature was noticeably dropping. The father, seemingly unaffected by the weather, walked with the same steady pace. Kailen, on the other hand, struggled. He felt his legs freezing, not to mention his exposed face. He had long ceased to feel it. The snowdrifts reached his knees, creating great discomfort for movement, and only his father's tracks allowed him to move at all.

He didn't know how long they had been walking or how far from home they were. It was the first time he had ventured beyond the settlement. Gradually, he began to tire, his strength dwindling, and the cold became more intense, enveloping his body. The father kept walking, maintaining his pace. The distance between them increased. Kailen tried to call out to him, but the cold had frozen his lips together, and he could only mumble. The blizzard became so terrifying that it bent the trees, reducing visibility to an outstretched hand.

Soon, the father's silhouette disappeared. Kailen tried to follow the tracks with his last strength, but the blizzard swept them away until there were none left. He looked back and found no tracks behind him either. He saw nothing around him, only snow and the swirling blizzard.

In his mind, there was only one thought: why, father? The betrayal of his father greatly affected the child's will to live, and his last strength began to leave him. He fell into the snow, no longer wanting to go on.

Suddenly, his hands clenched tightly. "I will return, to spite my father, and show him that I am not weak," he thought. Getting up, he began to walk, staggering. He no longer felt his limbs, his eyelids froze in place. Frost formed on his face. But still, he walked, against all odds.

As if for disobedience, nature decided to punish the brave one. The wind began to pelt his exhausted body with snow, knocking him down, but he would get up again and continue forward. He no longer saw where he was going; he only believed that he could return.

Unexpectedly, with the next step, there was no ground under his feet, and he fell forward. Kailen began to fall off a cliff, tumbling down the slope. Landing, he somersaulted several times and could no longer get up. Lying on his back, he felt himself dying. He regretted not seeing his mother, he was angry at his father for his actions, but he understood that such was the fate of the weak. With a final breath, he finally stopped moving. Another soul lost in the cold lands of Freljord.

The blizzard ceased. The wind died down, and the snow stopped falling. On the snow lay the frozen boy, frost covering his face, and lifeless eyes staring into the sky.

The snow next to his right hand began to turn into sand, stretching towards his open palm, moving as if alive and gathering in his hand. Nature, aggressive towards the child, became soft and caring. The snow conveniently settled around his body, covering Kailen like a blanket.

A weak breath emerged from his nose, cold vapor rising. His eyes, frozen, began to glow with a blue light. His hand clenched into a fist, scattering the snow. His body began to show signs of life, emerging from its slumber.

Standing up to his full height, the blue tint faded from his eyes, but they lost their color, becoming completely white. His skin took on a pale color, as if of a corpse. This was no longer the same Kailen who had come here.