back to tunes

Alone in her cave, one of solitary refuge - she sits in isolation, with only the cold chill of the night to keep her company.

She summons icicles imbued with pure malice. She wasn't always alone, until the spirits cast her out. 

She waits, a dense fog both shielding and trapping her.

Does the ice belong to Celsius, or does Celsius belong to the ice?

It wasn't always like this, you know. At one time, we had great power...

Only a kingdon of frozen oceans remains. Is there anyone left?

Who would make the pact? A sacrificial lamb?

The ice queen sits in frozen stillness, a cold gale tormenting the landscape. 

Where is the Chosen One? Where is Salvation? 

A distortion rips the foggy matrix.

She'll wait an eternity in this dark realm, enshrouded in ice and and fog. 

She wraps her thoughts in snow and watches blizzard winds blow them into nothingness. Eventually, the time will come - but that time is not now.

And one more time, she wonders:

Does the ice belong to Celsius, or does Celsius belong to the ice?