Cold Consequences in Silver Vale
The magic cocoon stirred, shimmered, then melted away. Varric drew Ardyn closer, and she smiled.
"It won't take long, love."
"A second away from you is too long."
Varric felt a warm sensation within his soul—a soul kiss. Ardyn's form dissolved into millions of grains of lilac sand. She drained from Varric's grip and reformed at the cave entrance.
[Mist Step]
"It won't take too long, my love. Begin organizing things with Marcus. I will be there soon." She gave him a final soul kiss and was gone.
Silver Vale was the richest human village in Serpentia. The silver leaves of the massive trees surrounding the village tinkled in the breeze like delicate wind chimes. A small lilac dust storm swirled at the village entrance, standing in place for a long moment. When the sands dissipated, Ardyn stood before the open gate.
[Mist Walk]
Ardyn looked at the only home she had ever known before meeting Varric. She stood there as her power rolled from her like a wild torrent, flooding into the village like a river racing downhill to fill a valley. Ardyn was calm, but her power was terrible. The villagers felt her presence like high humidity pressing down on them during a sweltering day.
Seraphis appeared beside her. She began feeding raw power through him; like a filter, it exuded from him—calm, benign, and something the villagers could withstand. Ardyn nodded, and they walked into the village together.
Seraphis basked in his Mistress's power. He felt as if he were learning through osmosis, ancient knowledge and abilities marking him for a later purpose. Ardyn walked beside him, but it was as if she were on a different plane. Her hair moved on its own, spearing the ground to test its potency before returning to her. Her battle robes continually generated crystals of varying shades and sizes, depositing them along the hem. They moved along the fabric, generating magic and building defenses. She was now a being beyond sentience, equipped with items that possessed souls of their own.
Everyone who saw her fell to their faces. Because of who she was, the ground itself seemed to bless them, granting each a single wish. It was not the weight of her magic that called them to their knees, but the quality of peace and love her aura carried. The air didn't just feel heavy; it tasted of honey and ancient hibiscus nectar. As the villagers pressed their faces into the dirt, the soil beneath them turned momentarily to velvet. They didn't just feel peace; they felt a psychic weight that reached into their marrow, stripping away years of exhaustion and replaced it with, golden vitality that made their skin itch with the sudden touch of the divine.
She reached her family's home. The structure seemed to waver under the weight of greed, envy, and hate. She walked through the front door as if it were a wall of water; Seraphis followed behind her without a word.
With a thought, she summoned her aunt, uncle, and cousins to her just as her throne rose behind her. She sat down slowly, her eyes never leaving her aunt and uncle. For a long while, no one spoke. Finally, Ardyn looked at the large pile of treasure at the other end of the room. Her eyes scanned the hoard, and she knew instantly that the pile had not reduced—it had grown.
Her family had not obeyed her orders.
As she looked over the treasure, her family visibly trembled. Seraphis's power glowed over them as he realized they had disobeyed his Mistress. All five of them were pressed closer to the floor by an invisible weight. Angelica and Sonia whimpered as their faces were ground into the wood.
Ardyn's gaze slowly moved over the room. "Release them, Seraphis. Collect the treasure and distribute it to those who bowed to me when we arrived."
The cobra beastkin bowed respectfully and went to his task. Both he and the treasure disappeared from the house as one. Ardyn continued to watch her family until her uncle finally found his voice.
"Your orders were not very clear. We were not sure…"
"Did you kill my parents and my brother?" Her voice moved through the house like an echo vibrating across thin glass. It caused the Stronghoods to shiver.
Anabel spoke next. Her voice trembled, but she still spoke as if she could control the situation. "We took you in! We cared for you, and now you have sold yourself and been contaminated by magic. That treasure was ours! Payment for—"
Anabel Stronghood grew bolder, her hands flailing wildly, her eyes blazing with anger. Suddenly, Ardyn's hair lashed forward. Before Anabel could even register the movement, the locks forcefully pulled her to the floor.
Ardyn spoke, and her voice was like death creeping over healthy flesh. "You open your mouth, and your entire soul is known to me. You had my family killed, and you lamented that I survived—until you realized you needed at least one of us to claim my father's wealth."
Anabel began to cry, her body convulsing with sobs.
"I pass judgment," Ardyn declared. "You will be forever tied to Silver Vale. Only if you learn will I allow you to die. The punishment will be etched into your bones; do not think a simple mortal or wizard can clear it from you."
A heavy coldness settled over the house. Michael Stronghood tried to plead. "Ardyn, please. Do not do this. We failed you before, but we will never—"
Ardyn stepped forward, her hair rising like snakes ready to strike. Her voice was condemnation itself. "Did you allow my mother a chance to negotiate? Could my father plead a case for his family?"
Michael Stronghood's body felt as if the flesh were being flayed from his bones. He screamed in terror. His family moved away from him in a pathetic, huddled mass, as if distance meant dissociation. Ardyn calmed and sat back.
"That is my old life. I will move forward, but you will suffer as I suffered, in retribution for my parents and brother. I am not a forgiving being. I am wrathful."
The heavy coldness consumed the home. The runes didn't just flash; they hissed as they branded themselves into the wood and the stone – of the property, and throughout the village. They smelled of scorched copper and old earth. The Stronghoods felt the curse hook into their very breath—every time they inhaled, they would feel the life-force of Silver Vale. If a single tree withered in the forest, they would feel a phantom ache in their chests; if the village prospered, they would remain a prisoner of their own health, cursed to live as a monument to their own greed.
The Stronghoods felt no true pain, but they understood. They were now tied to Silver Vale. If the village died, they would suffer, walking the realms as shadows—lost within the layers, unable to interact, only able to remember their suffering.
The runes sank deep into the soil, tying the curse to Serpentia's most ancient cave systems. The Stronghoods sat bewildered and hopeless, bound by an unbreakable soul-curse.
Ardyn—High Empress of Sidus Serpens—was already gone. The Stronghoods were no longer her concern.