Eira's had a quick glance at the compass with her eyes stared out from under frost-laden eyelashes. "It's close... I can feel it". For three days straight she was walking through the ferocious blizzards of northern lands to finally reach her destination. Faithful Otus must've seen it coming first in the morning when he was soaring high in the crisp winter sky. Now he's sitting on Eira's shoulder clapping his wings in anticipation.

"We're almost there, old fellow" - said the girl She could almost feel her words turning into a white vapor just to disappear in the chilly mist. The cold winds cut Eira to the bone. She wrapped up in her travel cloak and kept walking.

The path veiled in snow had began sloping downward. The lips of the girl were moving, and though the roar of the northern winds was drowning all the sounds anyone could read those words coming from Eira's mouth. The Frozen Grove. The Frozen Grove...

Design par Great Grimoire

- Mentions légales - Conditions Générales de Vente