Cold Steel

Chapter 1

A blinding blizzard raged across an icy tundra obscuring all from view. Standing tall, but hidden from view, an ancient castle sat upon the desert of pure white snow overlooking a large city. It pompously declared to the storm that nothing could make it move, and it was right. It had stood for hundreds, maybe thousands of years, outliving empires and all manner of kings. Trapped outside the thick metal walls of the manor, as it had been for as long as memory itself could recall. The frigid winds coming from the icy north howled and beat at the frosted window panes of the castle, seeking desperately to find a way in. Secreted away, deep within the innards of that mighty bulwark of metal was a small room, quiet and dark and peaceful. Encircled by the loving arms of the castle, a girl lay surrounded by the warmth of her bed, She was named Vasilisa Gerren and she was 17 years old. The curtains waved gently, swimming in the rich velvety blackness that flourished in the absence of light.

Slowly, all the people within the metal beast began to stir. Metal groaned, men heaved, and, ever so slowly, the gears mounted inside the thick metal walls began to move. By small increments, the warm comfy dark was chased from Vasilisa's room. She soon opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by darkness

She rose from her bed, brushing the crimson curtains aside. Walking to the side of her room, she depressed a hidden lever and a door opened. It was her wardrobe, with her armor and her coats. Lovingly, she brushed her fingers along the polished metals and the soft furs. Then slowly, almost hesitantly, she put on her armor, silver, and sleek, then on top she placed the fur of a rare fox only found on the island of Virgo. Walking over to her bed, she drew back the curtains, tying them with a slim golden ribbon then made her bed carefully, fluffing up the pillows and making sure the fabric of the bedclothes were stretched taut, as her father told her. Having finished, she took her heavy traveling pack and walked out the door.

She walked down the narrow hallway, which was illuminated with violet light. This violet light emanated from flowers planted in pots which were placed strategically along the hallways. These flowers were the lifeblood of her country. They provided the energy that ran their machines, and they also had the potential to boost the ability of telepaths. Reaching up, she picked a single flower, gently placed it in her mout,h and chewed.

She made it to the main hall, where Peter, her Kvrian Bodyguard was waiting for her. He embraced her as she came down the hallway his eyes shining. Peter looked like a little-lost child. Like all Kvrians, he was slim and lean. However, unlike most Kvrians, he was short. 

He wore a crimson uniform with the emblem of Galilea, her country, emblazoned on the left side of his chest. He looked at her face and then brushed a stray hair away from her forehead. And as he stood by her side she was comforted. For he was her shadow, and she loved him like she loved the inky darkness of her small room.

"Are you all right Lisa?" He looked intently at her, his dark face crinkling in concern

She smiled, "as well as can be" she motioned toward the door. 

"I'll tell you about it as we head toward the aeroport" 

Lisa and Peter approached the door. Smoothly, Peter pulled a lever and the heavy metal doors opened, as the gearwork behind the walls groaned with the strain. They walked out into the night, the cold wind buffeting them as they walked, and nipping at their ears.

At the touch of the cold, Peter pulled Lisa closer and whispered into her ear. "So? tell me."

She snuggled into 

She halted in front of the Regiment, shoulders taut, her forehead creasing, and the members of the regiment, seeing the look on her face, snapped to attention, their small dark eyes glinting with fear. Shaking her head, she motioned to the door, When nobody moved she spoke, "Coran the fool. Open the door." They were terse words, the words of someone who was in command

A huge brute, the largest of the bunch broke from the line, heading to the main door of the castle, he unlocked it, pulling the heavy iron bar that barred it off with ease. Then, almost comically, he hurriedly set it down on his foot.

Amid his roars of anguish, the huge man hopped along on one foot holding on for dear life to his bruised, perhaps broken foot. A few of the other men stifled the bright chuckles of merriment that threatened to rise out of their chests and burst out of their mouths. 

And someone did laugh, though not anyone that you would suspect. It was Vasilisa, known to the men under her command as Lady Gerren, and it was a cold mocking laugh, that carried with it the threat of merciless punishment. Turning to Peter, Lady Gerren motioned towards the door.

The men of the regiment looked perplexed as they say the teenager approach the door, and even more perplexed when he stopped in front of Coran, who was now down on one knee, clutching his foot, tears leaking out of the corners of his small eyes even though he had screwed them tightly shut. The teenager touched his shoulder, and then he murmured something to the man, though everyone could hear it. "Stand up." leaning on the teenager, Coran did as he asked. Just as Coran was about to thank him, Peter grabbed his arm, and with a clever technique that he had perfected for situations just like these, Peter sent Coran sailing through the front door. Turning to Lady Gerren, he smiled. "Look my lady! the doors are now open!" then, as the rest of the regiment gaped with open mouths, Peter walked quickly to Lady Gerren's side, and escorted her out the door

they walked briskly past Coran who lay face first in the snow, knocked out cold. Without turning back, Lady Gerren told the smallest member of the regiment to drag Coran back to the castle. Included in her message was the command that as she was afraid that the regiment would embarrass her, they would have to stay behind and look after the stables.

As they walked into the distance headed towards the center of the town, they left behind a regiment who were more than happy to stay behind because they were frightened out of their wits of their new commander.