• The Sun. It is truly a thing of horror.
    Pouring down on his skin, melting the ice in his bones; it engulfs him in a hot, gleeful light.
    A child wanders below; his blinding, white hair unmoving with the warm breeze. He shivers. The cold. He longs for the cold. He belongs to the cold. Confusion tingles his senses and tears trickle down his fair cheek, but freezes on the surface. His mind is a labyrinth, doors only beginning to open. A world of wonder and ice. A roar.
    The child must hurry. He falls to the ground, steam rising from the contact of cold and hot.
    Other children run and play, enjoying the coming of the new season. They shout their thanks to Kami-sama. No more snow! No more ice! The cold has fled!
    No. The echo in his existence screams its protest. A soft chill flows through the melting corridors of his conscience, returning the walls to their original, solid form. The wind, having been held back for so long, finally releases its icy daggers, unable to contain them any longer. Howling through the halls, their mischievous laughs flinging doors open.
    A scream of pain. The labyrinth deepens and deepens, sending the child into agony.
    Onlookers, lots of them. They gather around; too worried not to do anything, too scared to approach. Knowledge floods his body. Power courses through his veins.
    An image flickers, so far away. Lifting his head, reaching out, the child’s fingertips brush the surface. Some of the pain retreats into the world of the unwanted, finding a nice resting place with the sun.
    People scream. The wind of the worlds swirls around his body. The grass shrivels and dies. No! Are the cries of the former partiers. Their luxury and comfort disappears. The frost bites at their lives, slowly gnawing away at their bodies. We will prevail! This battle is won!
    The sky rumbles and crashes, and upon the broken statues once alive, stands a dragon. Beautiful and carved of the cold itself. It stands looming above the frail boy’s almost lifeless body. Its features crinkle with worry.

    If you die, I die. If I die, you die. Do not give up! They sky will prevail!

    His once stable legs now shaky, he clambers to his feet and looks up at the figure shading him from the horror of the worlds. A gasp.
    Nearly one-hundred feet tall and beautiful. Beautiful beyond compare. Beautiful, yet its very presence is earth-shaking. Deadly, cold, and strong. Confidence arches the boys small back.

    Now take me in your hands! Call my name! That which blocks your ears is worthless fear! The enemy is one, you are one. What is there to fear? Cast off your fear. Look forward! Go forward! Never stand still! Retreat, and you will age. Hesitate, and you will die. Shout…my name is…

    HYORINMARU!