Nokken

NOKKEN

Sand shifted between splayed claws as a Nocturne wandered down the beach. Waves rolled in periodically, lapping gently at the drake’s scales before retreating back out to sea. He always wandered the beaches at night, his eyes gleaming darkly as he stared out at the ocean, its surface shimmering silver under the moonlight. His name was Nokken, a water drake belonging to a small clan that lived along the edge of the Sea of a Thousand Currents. Their clan existed at the brink of charted territory, looking out onto a vast expanse of unexplored beaches and rocky coves beyond. The elders repeated a single warning as a mantra that became their clan’s sole rule. “Don’t go past the tidepools, for there’s something in the water”.

These words rang through Nokken’s mind as he stepped carefully over the water-filled, rocky indents containing a myriad of bright anemones and mussels. Strands of seaweed glistened dully as a wave broke against the rock, tossing sea spray against Nokken’s form. He always made It here and stared out at the uncharted territories beyond, curiosity beckoning him to continue onwards just as the warnings of his elders urged him to turn back. Tonight, curiosity won. He had his eyes set on a distant strip of stone that stretched out from the shoreline and the circle of water that appeared to glow faintly where the jetty came to an end.

Nokken clamored down the slippery rock, stepping out onto the stone bridge that stretched over the water. Barnacles clung to the rock as he ventured further and further out towards the sea. It seemed to take much longer than Nokken anticipated before he arrived at the seafoam-green glow that bubbled up from the depths of the ocean below. He thought it was an odd phenomenon, perhaps a trick of the light, and he leaned forward to peer into water. Something flashed. Shimmering fins flickered by beneath the waves. The Nocturne was so fascinated that he failed to notice as the sea thrummed to life around him, an enormous wave looming overhead before it crashed down and swallowed him whole.

It was as if Nokken had been grabbed by an enormous beast as the riptide pulled him out past the sand bars and deep into the ocean. He tried to keep his head above the water, but the tide kept pulling him down, farther and farther from the surface. Nokken opened his eyes. There was something else in the water with him. The iridescent scales of a great, serpentine creature slid past as it coiled around the Nocturne, its eyes gleaming as if it were a snake waiting to strike its prey.
Nokken felt his lungs burn, wings and legs frantically beating in an attempt to reach the surface, but to no avail. He seemed to be stuck in a whirlpool of spiraling water and flashing scales that pulled him down. He felt as if he were about to explode from the pressure building up inside his chest and finally, Nokken gave in. “Breathe” a voice seemed to echo through his mind as water flooded the Nocturne’s lungs and a string of bubbles escaped his mouth, dancing away towards the surface. Nokken continued to sink deeper and deeper into the sea. The drake’s vision slowly blurred and darkened as he was encased in a cage of gossamer fins and pearlescent scales that constricted around his form. The last thing he saw was the faint glow of a full moon cast through miles of water that separated him from the surface of the sea. Then, the world went dark.

Hunger. The first thing Nokken became aware of as he awoke was an insatiable ache that burned through him and gnawed at his innards. The painful pressure in his lungs was gone, replaced now by the need to consume. He barely noticed that he was still underwater as he tore at mussels and clams and snapped his jaws at fish only to find them tasteless in his mouth and insufficient to satiate his appetite. He no longer craved food and flicked his now elongated fins, flaring fish-like gills in annoyance.

He had become a serpent, a cursed creature bound to the sea and destined to prey upon the souls of the drowned. He now had great rippling fins extending from clawed limbs and shark-like gills slitting across the upper third of his neck. His scales were dark and iridescent, coated by a think, mucus-like layer and a crest of webbing connected his proud horns, extending down his back like a sail. The hunger was ever-present; an insatiable burn that he could never hope to quell, no matter how many drakes he pulled down or how many souls he stripped from lifeless, waterlogged bodies. The curse had somehow been passed on to him and this became the only life he knew.

Nokken’s clan saw his trail, footprints meandering out beyond the tidepools. The elder shook her head in dismay. “The sea has already claimed him.” She glanced solemnly towards the horizon as a wave rolled in onto the beaches below, “all we can do is pray”.

The Earth shuddered, waves rippling and thrashing at the slide of tectonic plates. There was silence for a moment before a great wall of water peaked on the horizon and came barreling towards the shallows where Nokken resided. The sea threatened to rip up great swaths of reef and bring havoc to communities of sea-dwelling drakes. Not even the serpent could escape.

The tsunami crashed against the rocks, throwing Nokken’s form against sharp barnacles and stone and rolling him across the sand. Blood stained the water as lacerations split open upon the serpent’s hide. He was rendered unconscious as a great pull sucked him from the cove and dragged him out into the sea. From there, the currents carried him far away and deposited him beneath a frigid layer of ice.

Nokken awoke to hunger and cold. He had lived in nearly tropical waters for many years, but now the sea was frigid and a thick layer of ice blocked him from the surface. He saw forms pass overhead occasionally, footsteps of lost drakes wandering over the frozen sea, but he could never break the impenetrable barrier that separated them. He moped in the dark, cold water, his hunger steadily growing as he starved.

Nokken was nearly emaciated when he found the tunnel. It had been a long time since he felt the pique of curiosity rise within him and he ventured forward, swimming towards the dark opening that bored deep into the sea floor. It opened into an expansive network of maze-like tunnels and caves, eerily void of life and silent save for the distant echo of talons scraping against ice. It was the sound that drew Nokken onward and towards an opening where the faint trickle of surface light beamed down through a frozen surface.

It was a lake. Its surface was a nearly perfect, frozen circle and a massive submerged glacier occupied a significant amount of the submerged space. The scratching stopped for a moment before it resumed. There was a figure, the tiny shape of a Fae-like drake at the center of the lake, a dark mane of kelp-like hair spiraling around her as her claws worked busily at the ice. She paid little attention as the serpent approached, observing her with dark indigo eyes. Despite the ache of hunger, Nokken felt no urge to attempt devouring the Fae-like creature. Perhaps she was a being similar to himself and he grew content to simply watch as she scraped away relentlessly at the ice.

Finally, the surface gave way, a fissure opening in the dense layer of ice. Nokken observed as the Fae darted out, pulling something into the water with a splash. She clutched a thrashing drake in her claws as she dragged them down into the freezing lake. Nokken considered stealing the meal, but he was weak from months, if not close to a year of starvation. He was surprised when the Fae pulled her catch towards him, offering the drowned carcass with outstretched claws.


Her name was Nykur, a Fae-like creature of unknown origins. Each day, she widened the hole in the lake’s surface until it gaped large enough that Nokken, too, could pull himself from the frigid water. The two of them sometimes hauled themselves out onto the ice, sliding across the lake’s glassy surface. Fins slapped awkwardly against the ice as Nokken and Nykur staggered about the lake, observing the distant line of snow-capped trees. Nokken hadn’t stepped onto the land for a long time and despite his ventures out onto the ice with Nykur, he was still bound strongly to the water. The serpent couldn’t stay upon the surface for more than an hour before he was forced to return to the black opening in the ice and slip into the dark water.

Their catches were rare, primarily lost drakes blown off course by great blizzards or who had wandered aimlessly across the tundra before ending up at the lake. Nokken loomed beneath the ice, following the shadow of footprints as he waited for his victims to come. Closer. Closer. They peered through the gaping hole in the ice and saw the gleam of eyes in the dark water before the serpent lunged. Between their meals, the pair of dragon-like creatures lurked in the darkness, observing one another. They attempted to communicate, a difficult task given that both of them were unable to speak save for deep rumbles and clicks that vibrated through the water. Despite their lack of words, the pair grew close. Nokken lurking in wait for another victim while Nykur continued to carve.

Once her work on the lake’s surface was complete, Nykur turned her attention to the submerged glacier, her claws slowly scraping away at its surface. The block of ice was ancient, thousands of years of perma-frost packed into its form and bubbles of air escaped from within as Nykur chipped away flakes of ice. She carved out spires and elegant glassy pillars as a structure took form. There was a pocket of air at the center of the ice that refused to escape to the surface even after Nykur exposed it. Around it, she crafted doors and hallways and expansive rooms – an entire temple of glassy ice that loomed in the dark water beneath the lake.

Over time, the temple became a place where Nykur and Nokken stored the souls they peeled from their drowning victims along with their bodies. Nokken often pulled visitors down through the dark hole in the lake, constricting around them until the life drained from their forms. It was death that split soul from body and as the luminous spirits attempted to escape, Nykur clasped together two half-spheres of ice around them, trapping the souls in frozen orbs. She strung them about the temple – thousands of soul-laden spheres that glowed faintly with a dim, pale light. Nokken would separate one from time to time, crushing the ice between his jaws before swallowing the spirit within. Just as Nokken preyed on the souls, Nykur peeled off strips of frozen flesh from their drowned victims and the temple became a reservoir of sustenance encased in ice.


The temple loomed, a ghostly visage in the dark water of the lake, but drowned victims were not the only thing it contained. There was a dark opacity seated within the block of glacial ice that Nykur continued to carve. Through the opaque, frosted surface, it was difficult to tell what the figure was at first, but as Nykur continued to chip away its icy confines, a young Guardian became visible. His wings appeared to fade into the ice itself, dark scales gleaming through his frozen prison. He was curled around something, as if protecting it from harm.

With a resounding crack, the Guardian’s frozen casing split apart and the great being lazily opened one dark eye. His massive form shifted, revealing a frozen egg clutched between his claws. Talons tensed and a series of blue spines raised upon the Guardian’s back when he spotted Nykur. He let out a low growl, pinning his eyes onto the Fae and curling his tail tightly around the egg as the remainder of ice slid from his scales. “Who are you?”

Nykur turned dismissively away from the frozen drake, but she said nothing in response.

It was then that a second crack resounded through the air that filled the temple. Both Nykur and the Guardian looked to the frozen egg, watching as a fissure appeared upon its surface. The egg shuddered, cracks elongating over its smooth exterior. After a few minutes, a glassy Nocturne hatchling pulled herself free from the frozen shell. She appeared almost to be made of the ice itself and as she opened her eyes, they gleamed white as if they were laden with fresh fallen snow. As Nykur gazed into the hatchling’s eyes, she felt compelled to do something she hadn’t been capable of for ages. She opened her mouth and instead of a screech, her words echoed on the air, “I am called Nykur”.

“What do you remember?” Nykur questioned, curious about the Guardian and the strange hatchling he now clutched in his claws. Nokken had joined her side, equally curious about the drakes his mate had freed from their icy prison and grateful for the hatchling’s strange ability to grant them speech.

“I was walking”, the Guardian began, “walking from the Sea of a Thousand Currents towards something that I could hear calling out to me. I remember the hunger and cold as I wandered across the tundra. Such a desolate place, but something drew me onwards, deep through the forest and out onto the frozen surface of this ancient lake. The Search drove me, but I never found my charge – just a pile of snow heaped over the lake. I suppose I must have fallen asleep after that. . .”

The Fae-creature nodded. “The two of you have returned our ability to speak and saved us from slipping farther and becoming mindless beasts. You are welcome to stay if it pleases you.”

The Guardian nodded slowly. “I am Frigoris, by the way” he said with a smile. Frigoris pointed at the small Nocturne now cuddled beneath one of his enormous wings, “and this will be Hiemalis, my Charge”.

After so many years frozen, Frigoris was neither alive nor dead. His heart had stopped beating long ago and he could no longer feel pain or emotions. He had no need for food or water. The only thing that remained was a fierce desire to protect his Charge. “This lake looks different under the moon, you know” he said one day as Nykur carved at the ice. “The snow was glowing as if it were alive back then. I remember that it was silver on the night I fell asleep and the lake itself was like a mirror flecked with stars”.

Nykur hummed in acknowledgment of the drake, “the moonlight is said to contain a certain magic. Perhaps that is what woke me as well”.

“What does that-“

The Guardian trailed off when he noticed that the Fae had already began walking towards the doors, opening them and darting out into the dark water beyond.


Hiemalis grew up within the temple beneath the lake. Frigoris taught her how to speak, then write and read while Nokken showed her how to swim in the dark waters, and Nykur instructed her on how to carve. Hiemalis was a natural, chiseling the ice into extravagant sculptures of drakes and other beasts.

“If she has never left this place,” Frigoris puzzled one day, “where does she get the ideas for these carvings?” One of the statues caught the Guardian’s attention – a Fae with filigree swirls inlaid upon her wings and constellations carved onto her scales. The statue looked upwards, its small form cloaked by an elegant hooded cape meticulously adorned with a series of runes.

“What’s this one?” he asked his Charge.

“She’ll be here soon” the Nocturne replied simply. “All of these, I am destined to meet them someday – I’ve seen it in my dreams. Perhaps they will come here, perhaps I will journey to meet them elsewhere.”

Frigoris opened his mouth to say more, but the doors swung open and Nokken lunged through them, his serpentine form coiling about the room as he arched upwards to affix another glowing orb to the ceiling. The Guardian lost his train of thought.


The full moon arched over the lake one night, casting the lands below in a cold silver glow. As Frigoris had said, the frozen surface of the lake transformed into a perfect reflection of the night sky above and a lone Fae came trudging through the snow. The drake herself appeared to be a mirror as well, scales flashing brightly as if they were inlaid with starlight. She walked fearlessly towards the gaping hole in the lake, all the while staring up at the stars. Nokken’s ever-watching eyes spotted her footprints from below the ice and he followed her towards the opening as he readied to pull her down into the lake. Except the Fae didn’t stop when she reached the unfrozen crater. Instead, she stepped out onto the water, treading upon its surface as if it were as solid as the frozen layer of ice.

Curious, Nokken hoisted his head above water, opaque third-eyelids flicking across his eyes as he refocused them on the Fae. She had no reaction, her own eyes closed and her head tilted upwards towards the stars. Nokken hauled himself up onto the ice, gills flicking shut in the cold air as he flared his nostrils and curled around the Fae, inspecting her. Finally, the drake let out a sigh that floated around her as a cloud of condensation before drifting away. She slowly opened pale ice-like eyes, looking back at Nokken.

“You are the serpent tied to this lake, are you not?” Her voice rang out on the air and Nokken reeled back, cocking his head slightly. “You know of me then. Who are you? Tell me what reason I have not to drown you in this lake.” The serpent coiled his neck back as if he were a snake readying to lunge, but the drake only smiled, “I am Cetus. The stars showed me this place in a vision and I wish to stay. I can offer to help, for you are a cursed being, but curses are fragile things – as brittle and breakable as the ice. As if to emphasize her point, a new crack appeared across one of the Fae’s glass-like wings, the sound of splintering ice filling the air.

Cetus was allowed to stay. She was quiet for the most part and would often sleep for the greater part of the day, waking up at night to gaze at the stars through opaque, glassy eyes. The Fae often observed the heavens in silence, and it was difficult to read her emotions or predict when she would speak. Despite her appearance as a mortal, Cetus never left the temple to eat and refused both the flesh and spiritual energies of the drowned victims that Nykur and Nokken survived upon. Instead, she seemed capable of sustaining herself simply by basking in the shimmering, silver light of the moon.

One night, Cetus’ quiet whisper broke the silence, “it is time” she said softly before turning her gaze towards Nokken. The serpent watched as Cetus pulled something from the small satchel she carried with her. It was a polished stone bowl that shimmered in dark azure hues. She clutched the dish in her arms as she fluttered towards the temple’s ceiling, untethering a single soul-laden orb and dragging it with her as she landed back on the icy tiles near the exit. Without a word, Cetus darted through the temple’s doors and out into the water before swimming upwards towards the gaping hole in the ice. Nokken and Nykur followed behind as they spiraled around the beam of moonlight that pierced down into the dark water.

On the surface, ice quickly gathered on the forms of the three beings who pulled themselves free from the lake. Fins and locks of Nykur’s dark mane froze against scales, plastered flat against her body. They clustered in a circle around the hole in the lake as Cetus set the bowl onto the water, allowing it to float at the lake’s center before placing the glowing orb inside. The soul-laden sphere glowed brighter and brighter until it resembled the moon – a brilliant orb of pale, nearly blinding light. Then it cracked. Fissures split down the sides of the orb before it shattered, shards of ice bursting outwards as a glowing tendril rose from the dish. The spirit spiraled around the three creatures as the liquid remaining in the dish turned silver as if it were a pool of mercury.

“Drink” Cetus’ voice whispered as she passed the bowl to Nokken. The serpentine Nocturne drank half of the silver liquid before handing the dish to Nykur. As the Fae-like creature finished the remainder, the stone bowl split in her hands, the two pieces falling into the lake and sinking down into its depths.

The hunger subsided, but the curses affecting Nykur and Nokken had entrapped them for so long that they were permanently warped. Even when the curses were broken, their forms remained somewhere half way between a beast and a dragon, finned and serpentine. Instead of souls and flesh, the pair now craved the silver light of the moon. Like Cetus, they would bask in the moonlight to sustain themselves, its energy seeping into their scales filling their forms with energy.


The souls that had been trapped for so long in glass-like orbs and tethered in the depths of the lake were set free when the curse broke, darting around the temple as glowing strands of energy. Heimalis giggled, dancing around on icy tiles as the spirits spiraled around her. They were free, but reluctant to leave. This place, the temple beneath the lake, had become a home for them after they had watched over the inhabitants for so long. Perhaps a few of them slipped away, but the remainder coalesced around one of Heimalis’ statues, infusing themselves into the icy carving of an enormous Snapper-like creature. Heimalis’ life-like creation slowly opened its eyes. They were a light, frosted blue – the very same as the ice from which it was carved. The rest of its form was like glass, shining with the colors that surrounded it. Its wings and scales took on the abyssal dark hues of the lake, flickering runes shimmering like moonlight through the water.

It called itself Diphda and it watched over the lake, its massive form seeming to materialize out of the water as it surged through the ice. Diphda’s presence appeared to attract a multitude of strange beings – unusual spirit-like creatures that danced in the air or fluttered through the dark water. The lake became an enchanted place, fed by moonlight and hidden from the world by miles of unexplored, frozen forest. Passersby still came from time to time; primarily lost souls blinded by blizzards as they wandered aimlessly across the tundra and into the looming woods. Indeed, the Fortress of Ends has always been an unforgiving place that continuously swallows many travelers and explorers who lose their way. Survivors sometimes tell their tales. Tales of wandering and of tired eyes settling upon a clearing in the woods where the sky was always clear, and starlight poured down upon a tranquil frozen lake. Perhaps this place once sequestered such souls, dragging them down into the icy depths towards a sunken grave. Now, it offers salvation, flecks of light connecting in the stars to show them the way back home.


Just as Nokken had a story before he became a soul-hunting serpent, there was a time when the lake was not a permanently frozen oasis. Thousands of years ago, when the lands were much warmer, several ancient clans of dragons made their home around the perimeter of the lake. Its water was clear and warm, and on the desolate tundra, it was the sole resource available to the nearby clans. Back then, the lake was fed by snow melt from the peaks of tall surrounding mountains and the brackish water that erupted from a cavernous hole in the lakebed. There were colonies of vibrant tube worms growing near great fissures in the stone where water boiled, and steam rose from the water’s surface. The lake was set in the crater of an inactive volcano, and hydrothermal vents supplied it with heat from the planet’s core.

Vibrant blue eyes peered down into the lake. The crystalline water revealed a lakebed covered by mussels and clams and fish that darted about in search of shelter. Crustaceans scuttled across the rocks – crabs and lobsters with dark, pointed shells. Even large aquatic fauna visited the lake from time to time - seals, walrus, and sometimes even small whales ventured from the sea through the underground network of cavernous tunnels. The claws of a drake reached forward to touch the water. She was a Fae, the youngest drake born into the clan. She came from a strange egg discovered in the depths of the water and the clan who found her said she was another gift from the lake. A gift from the Gods.

Her name was Nykur.

Perhaps Nykur was always part of the lake. Some said she was the daughter of a deity who protected the water, or a gift to dragon-kind fabricated in their likeness. She had a mane of seaweed-like hair that appeared to float around her, long crests and fins filled with translucent webbing similar to that of a fish. She was the clan’s best swimmer as well – capable of holding her breath indefinitely beneath the water and fast enough to catch any fish. Her barnacle-encrusted egg was found tucked away in one of the submerged caves running under the lake and taken in by a family of Tundras who cared for it until the Fae hatched. Her parents were artisans; talented whittlers who carved great statues of wood and ice and she had a brother back then too, perhaps not by blood, but family none the less. He was a young Tundra drake called Tlaloc with bright eyes resembling the cold, overcast sky that stretched endlessly over the frozen land. His long fur billowed in the icy wind, black and grey like a grizzled timber wolf. Back then, it was the two of them against the world.

Now, of course, these are just memories lost to time.

Nykur had always been hungry. It was no fault of her family or clan for they fed her well with fire roasted fish and lobster, or skewers of whale meat still dripping with liquid fat that spattered and sizzled in the fire. It sustained her, but never satiated the ache of a craving seated deep within the Fae. She grew accustomed to it over the years, always eager to try new foods in hopes that one of them would quell the craving that gnawed at her insides. Her brother hunted on land, offering her scraps of meat from caribou or lemming, but still the hunger remained.

By the time Nykur was an adult, she was still no closer to discovering the source of the ravenous craving that seemed to grow stronger with each passing day. She thought she was close a few times, the delectable scent of something wafted through the air and she would follow, desperate for even just a small taste of whatever it was. Then it was gone, staunched from the air like a rag placed over a bleeding wound. Nykur whined in frustration and Tlaloc clasped a furred claw over her shoulder in comfort, “don’t worry, Ny! I’m sure you’ll find it someday. After all, it is here from time to time – perhaps it is just something rare, maybe even rarer than the lemmings”.

Snow compressed beneath his weight as Tlaloc sprinted across the ice. Something up ahead roared, flapping its enormous furred ears in agitation and letting out a deep bellow when it spotted the drake racing towards it. It was a mammoth. Few of them ever came up this far into the mountains and heavily forested areas on the tundra, but one mammoth would feed the entire clan for several weeks and Tlaloc wasn’t going to let this one escape easily. It let out a disgruntled trumpet as the dragon approached before turning to run from the nearing predator.

Tlaloc flanked the creature, nipping at one of its massive limbs to keep it running. He wouldn’t be able to take down such a catch on his own, but he also didn’t have to. He only needed to drive it close enough to the lake where Nykur waited, her trap set. He was close. He could see the steam rising up from the water as he drew near, his muscles straining and legs thudding rapidly against the ground as the impact forced an exhale from his lungs with each stride. The mammoth balked. Just before the lake it stopped abruptly, unwilling to get closer to the massive expanse of water. Now it turned to face Tlaloc as if it meant to force its way past him. The Tundra let out a frustrated growl as he paced around his prey, leaping forward with a snap of his jaws as he attempted to drive the mammoth back. It was so close, he just needed to push it a few feet more. . .

Tlaloc leapt, swiping at the mammoth with sharp claws as it took several wary steps backwards. Its rear feet were nearly in the lake when Tlaloc let his guard down and the beast charged, massive tusks flashing through the air as Tlaloc attempted to leap out of its path. Too late. The pointed tip of an ivory tusk impaled itself deep into his viscera, tearing through flesh and organs as a spray of red gushed from the wound. Tlaloc let out a whimper as he was flung and landed with a dull thump on the snow near the lake. Red pooled around his unmoving form.

The remainder of the clan heard the commotion and now came to help, driving spears and arrows at the mammoth as the beast gave out a pained roar. Finally it slid to the earth with a thud. “Tlaloc!” Nykur yelled as she emerged from the lake, “brother, are you okay? It was so close, just a little farther and I could have pulled. . . it. . . in”. Nykur’s words slowly faded into a whisper towards the end of her sentence, eyes widening as she saw the unmoving form and the massive wound on her sibling’s underside. It was not worry, or fear that filled her then, for his blood was sweet and tempting on the air and it made Nykur’s hunger burn.

The clan’s shouts of joy over the fallen mammoth soon turned to cries of disbelief and fear as Nykur lunged upon her fallen sibling. “Nykur! NYKUR! What are you doing?!” The Fae hissed as she lapped at the blood and pulled at strips of flesh, her eyes glassed over as if possessed by some otherworldly creature. The spears were quick to turn on the Fae, arrows landing near her form and driving her back into lake. A few of the arrows flayed through her own skin, blood pooling around the wounds. Not red, but thick and silver as if her veins were filled with liquid mercury that now oozed forth and sizzled with an acid hiss as they landed on the snow.

She dragged Tlaloc’s carcass down with her, red and silver staining the water as the siblings sank somewhere deep below the surface.

The hunters spread their rumors about the Fae. “She was a monster! I can’t believe we let a monster live among us all this time. A flesh-eater!” The lake was now a dangerous place. The clan tried to sustain itself first by hunting only on land. It was tiresome and nearly impossible to support more than a few drakes on the sparse plant life and wild game on the tundra. A few of them attempted to go back to the lake to fish or harvest mussels, but they never returned from such endeavors. Without warning, the water rippled to life and the Fae was upon them, dragging their bodies down into the abyssal depths. Without food or water to support them, it wasn’t long before the ancient clan was no more.

As for the Fae, she never left the lake. She sat below the water, waiting for someone to come close enough. Over time, passersby dwindled and the thermal vents stopped erupting warmth into the icy water. The lake grew cold after that and it no longer sustained life. The carcasses of long deceased fish and mollusks lined the rocky lakebed, slowly dissolving until nothing of them remained. The world grew colder and colder until the lake’s surface glassed over into a sheet of ice and Nykur, too, was frozen.

It was many years later that Nykur’s eyes opened again. There was a light shining through the ice, pale and cold as it beamed down from a full moon that sat heavily in the sky. The lake was not only frozen upon the surface now, but great glacial pillars filled much of the submerged space as well. The ice around Nykur cracked away and she swam up towards the surface where a cone of moonlight shone onto the lake – a perfect circle of light right at its center. It was here that the Fae began to carve.