Eris
The gardens were peaceful in a way I hadn't expected to find in Nevareth.
After days of political maneuvering, endless lessons with Aldric about imperial protocol, and the constant weight of courtiers' gazes following my every move, the silence here felt like a luxury. The afternoon sun... weak and pale as it was this far north... cast long shadows across paths of crushed diamond-dust that sparkled underfoot like captured starlight.
I'd been examining the ice roses for the better part of an hour, fascinated despite myself by their impossible existence. In Solmire, flowers were living things that bloomed and died with the seasons, their beauty temporary and therefore precious. These northern blooms were different... eternal, crystalline, grown through magic I didn't fully understand. They caught the light and threw it back in fractal patterns, blue and white and pale purple, beautiful in the way winter itself was beautiful: cold, perfect, untouchable.
