"Come. We've still a long journey ahead of us yet," called the cold and soft voice of Eira Anwyl as she mounted her horse, Eirlys, with all the elegance and grace expected of a queen. Her silvery cloak, which seemed far too light for the weather, glimmered in what remained of the moonlight as it fluttered for a moment before settling around her, and along the back of the horse. She pulled the hood loosely around her fair face, covering the light blonde curls that tumbled over her shoulders<br/><br/>"We must reach Argus before noon. Ride fast and do not fear the weather," she instructed, looking up at the sky, black in the night, the stars mostly hidden behind thick clouds. Snow had begun to fall around them once again, yet it would not impede them. They would not fear the snow as many would, for they were accustomed to it, and they knew that their Queen would protect them from such.<br/><br/>With a click of her tongue, Eira urged the white horse forward, and behind her rode a small company of men. Snow flakes danced around them, falling from above and kicked up from below by the horses that carried them swiftly towards the border or Eirwen, towards the ruins of the once great kingdom of Argus. Their journey was long, and the weather was not favorable, as it was winter in the kingdom of Eirwen, and their winters were long and harsh.<br/><br/>A snow storm was blowing through the kingdom, as they often did this time of year. The air around them was cold enough to chill even the thickest of humans to the bone in a matter of minutes, hours if they were well protected, and the snow was thick and heavy, falling with increasing vigor. Yet on they rode. Eira's magic afforded her near immunity to the cold, and she could extend this protection to those she willed, and she did. The men would still feel the sting of the cold, so unlike the young Queen, they wore thick, layered clothing, but they were far more protected than any others who might dare to venture out in such a storm.<br/><br/>Despite the cold and the snow, they dared not make another stop before they reached their destination. They were heading to Argus for a meeting of the utmost import. The Council would meet today to discuss the Shadows that had been growing, and now seemed to whisper of a coming war. Long had these Shadows grown in secret, long had this Darkness lingered, long had the Queen of Eirwen warned the other kingdoms that it would come, and long had they ignored her warnings. Now, what appeared to be an army of wraiths was amassing near the border between Eirwen and Ciardah, and strange things were happening near the borders. Villages raided, the small tavern towns lie vacant, and then there were the reports of people who seemed as though they were not themselves, as though they were possessed, having shadows for eyes, attacking others.<br/><br/>These, Eira thought, were the preludes of war. Yet many still refused to believe that war was inevitable. So tightly they clung to their peace that they would let it slip through their fingers without realizing it until it was too late and every last shred of it had vanished into the shadows. She had called this meeting of the Council in order to try to prevent this. She only hoped that they would listen, before it was too late.<br/><br/>So on they rode, until the snow let up and eventually faded from view, replaced by warmer air that smelled faintly of dirt and vegetation, signalling the end of her kingdom, and the beginning of another: Argus. Still on they rode, at least two hours before the ruins of the great kingdom came into view in the distance. The ruins still spoke of the last great war and the horror that had befallen the kingdom at the hands of Dardanos. Even the lands around it still bore the scars of the darkness they had fought. There were no plants visible around the ruined kingdom, and no animals anywhere to be seen. Yet from among the ruins of battle, amid the war-torn city, stood a tall crystalline castle, sparkling beautifully in the sunlight, a beacon of hope among the horrors of war.<br/><br/>After traveling the remaining distance between themselves and the city, Eira and her men arrived on the steps of the large castle. Eira dismounted the horse with the same elegant grace with which she had mounted her, landing lightly on her feet and allowing reigns of Eirlys to fall to the ground. The horse would not run, as she was both loyal and well-trained. Once they had seen to their own horses, her men would see to hers.<br/><br/>Eira then entered the building alone. Inside she was greeted by the cool air that filled the castle. The hall before her was rather expansive--large enough to hold an adult dragon, she thought--and lined with pillars decorated with intricate patterns. The ceiling of the room was tall to match, with staircases winding upwards on either side of the room. At the far end were a pair of large doors that seemed to be made of crystal, decorated with an intricate pattern of a silvery-blue metal. Beyond these doors lie what used to be the throne room, but now acted as the meeting chambers for the Council.<br/><br/>Eira pushed the doors open, passing through and glancing around the room. She was early, but only barely, and she was not the first to arrive, nor the last, it seemed. Several of the other rulers had apparently arrived before her, yet a few remained absent. Nevertheless, she passed by those present without word, walking along the expanse of a large table at the center of the room, to a chair at the head of the table. It was a chair that had once belonged to her mother, but now belonged to her. She felt infinitely small as she sat in it, wondering if she would ever get used to it, if she would ever truly be able to take the place of her mother. Yet it didn't matter. Her mother was gone, and the responsibility, the burden now rested on her shoulders, whether she felt big enough to carry it or not.<br/><br/>As she sat, she pulled back her silvery hood, freeing her heavy curls, which then spilled over her thin shoulders, framing a somewhat cold but beautiful face. Her ice blue eyes scanned the room, mentally making a note of who was there and who they need wait on before they could begin. For the moment, she didn't speak, as she had never been one for small talk, nor had she ever felt inclined to fill perfectly good silence with idle words to make others feel more comfortable. When everyone was here and ready to begin, she would speak. Until then, she was rather more inclined to remain silent, unless spoken to.<br/><br/>---------<br/><br/>Meanwhile, in Eirwen, soldiers were setting up tables beneath an awning outside of a medium-sized building near the center of the southern portion of the castle town. Posters had been hung all over the city, and even in villages throughout the kingdom, asking for volunteers. There was a war coming. The citizens of Eirwen had long sensed the darkness that loomed just beyond their borders, so it came as no surprise when the military began asking for volunteers to aid in the upcoming war. They asked for the aid of any citizen willing to provide some assistance, even if it they were not fighter. Wars were not won on the backs of soldiers alone. There were many other ways to help, and many other professions were needed to help in the efforts: healers, blacksmiths, cooks, everyone could help in some way or another.<br/><br/>And so, their booths were set up, despite the snow that fell lightly within the walls surrounding the city. Rhoswen, one of Eira's chief advisors was there, along with Aderyn and Cadfael, who had helped Eira in her battle to reclaim her throne. Together, they sought to draw in recruits from across the kingdom to join their efforts, to protect their home. In spite of the falling snow, people still came, signing up to aid however they could, even if it was just by providing provisions or supplies, volunteering to cook meals, or make clothes for the soldiers. It was truly a sight that Eira would have been proud of, had she been able to see it.