Summer Sun
Legacy Name: Summer Sun

There were rumors of a kingdom to the west where winter was indefinite. A world robbed of greenery and light, of warmth and beauty. Summer could never have imagined such a place before, but he found himself curious. Named after the season in which he’d been born, Summer was blessed with a natural gift for pyromancy – fire magic. Perhaps this kingdom, if the place truly existed, just needed a little push back to life.

He set out alone with only the vaguest notion of the kingdom’s location one late Spring morning, saddling up his chestnut steed with provisions for the long journey ahead. They stuck to the roads, and with his magical talents, the few roaming groups of bandits the pair came across proved to be little trouble. Along the way, Summer passed through towns whose people told stories of the wintry kingdom. Some locals claimed the lord of the land was a powerful warlock, while others called him a frost giant or demon. In one small town’s tavern, an old woman behind the counter shook her head during these stories.

“Nay. He’s no demon. Not a frost giant. Not a warlock, or a wizard, or any sort o’ spell-weaver. King Feromund was just a man. A foolish man, but a man.” The men at the bar tried to hush her, to drown her out. She would have none of it.

“I worked at the castle, I think I should know! I was a scullery maid there. Cut the potatoes for his meals myself. A witch came, once. During the Summer festival. We’d open the castle courtyard night and day for all the townsfolk. There’d be singing, dancing, bands playing in the yard… all the shopkeepers would have stalls packed with foodstuffs. The festivals were wonderful, back then. But that all changed about… oh, I reckon twenty, maybe twenty-five years ago. My son was a little boy back then.” There was a tinge of sadness to her words when her son’s memory came to her.

“The witch had wandered in from far off, or so I think. She didn’t look like anyone I’d ever seen in town, that was for certain. She came with her wagon, and begged to see King Feromund. The guards let her in, though I can’t imagine what they must’ve been thinking.

The king must’ve been cruel to her, for she left not long after. That’s when the winds started up. Awfully cold, they were. And the snow followed not long after. Snow! In the middle of July! I’d never seen such a thing. But it was snow, alright. White, cold. The leaves on the trees started to shrivel and die. People got nervous. The crops failed one after another. Cattle grew thin and sickly, for there was no grass for them, not under all the snow.” The tavern had grown quiet, all ears on the woman. Summer found himself staring at his plate, unable to eat.

“People got sick. We tried to clear the snow so that we could grow food, or at least harvest what was under it. But it was pointless. Everything had died. My little boy, my Gerard, he… he caught ill. I’d brought him to the castle so he could at least be by the warmth of a fire, but it wasn’t enough to save him. So my husband and I packed our belongings. Everyone still alive did, if they were smart, anyway. We moved as far as we could stand to be away from the land we’d called home. The king never left. The cold remains, though, so I can’t imagine he’s in poor health.

So, no. The king isn’t a monster. Just a poor, foolish man who upset a witch.” The old woman shook her head solemnly, and the tavern patrons went back to their mugs and meals in silence. Summer finished his meal slowly, paid the woman, and left once more on his horse.

A week passed before Summer came across the first glimpse of white snow. The trees in the forest he rode through were black and twisted, dead husks. He stopped the horse, dismounted, and placed a hand on the trunk of the closest tree. The bark was cold to the point of feeling like marble, but if he focused hard enough… yes! Concentrating on the fires within sent a blazing warmth through his hands, igniting his blood. The tree began to feel less like stone, and… while not quite alive again, closer to life than it had been. Perhaps with enough time, Summer could bring real life back to this land. He mounted his horse once more, riding towards the castle in the distance.

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