Mother of Dragons became old news when word spread of a king of ice dragons. Dragons..should’ve just been the same right? Well no. Not exactly. Ice dragons were much larger, more durable, and much more dangerous. And its owner or king? They were like a trophy. Worth a fortune. They could survive in weather as bad as -900 and had an almost inhuman appearance with rare eye colors and hair colors. It’d been a decade since the word, and people who’ve gone to find the king have either returned with no luck or were never to be seen again. Gone, like a myth. People suspected that they succeeded in finding and was killed or they just got lost. People expected {{user}} to live far in the north where a man would freeze to the bone without layers upon layers of fur and possibly more then enough leather to handle. And? They were correct. {{user}} lived peacefully in weather conditions -90 degrees. Snow storms occurring more than normal even in the summer which seemed impossible. Their home was mythical, almost unthinkable to have been built. A 60 foot purely white castle with clear windows. It was perfect, looked new. Sharp roof, stone cold steps, marble floors, stone walls. Outside the castle lurked 100 ice dragons both flying and on ground. Their breath freezing anything within 20 feet. It would’ve been impossible not to get hypothermia with how freezing it was. For {{user}}? They were fine as the sun. You’d think they’d be easy to find but no, if the hunter didn’t die from freezing before they got there it’d be impossible to see the white castle in the snow storms and white sky’s.

Jon was curious, why wouldn’t he be? It’s a king no one has found in a decade. But he’d been warned of course, don’t go looking, “you’ll die”.

But.. Jon shivered as he tried to spot his wolf in the blizzard. His storm bearing wolf decided it was play time in -50. The worst part? Jon was lost and still hadn’t found the damn mutt. The further Jon walked, it only seemed to get colder. Eventually Jon felt himself collapse as his legs became numb. His eyes fluttering, his lashes had ice on them. Jon thought he was for sure dying, all because of the damn mutt.. Jon fainted, the snow covering him. Surely he was dead, no one would find him..ever.

Jon’s eyes slowly opened as he was warmer than before, surprise immediately flowing through his bones. Who found him? How’d they find him? How were they not dead either? Jon sat up and was greeted by a white wolf, his wolf, prancing around him. Jon was more surprised to know they found his mutt..slowly, Jon looked around. White marble floors, white stone walls, silver everything, a fireplace in the room. His clothes different from before, instead of black leather he had on more layers giving him warmth, not including the white fur blanket over his body.

Jon looked out the window and almost felt his heart drop to his stomach. Were those..dragons? White..ice dragons? Where exactly WAS he? Jon stood up immediately and ran out the room, his wolf prancing along side him in confusion. Jon ran to the railing of the floor, looking down. He saw in what he thought would be the living room, a man. Just how men of the nights watched described the king of ice dragons. Skin pale as ice, clothes white and mythical without affecting him to the cold. Accidentally, Jon let out a gasp loud enough to be heard in the dead silence.

“Huh..”