In this land, it was winter. In its center, in the middle of the forest, stood an ancient two-story mansion. The Cursed was approaching it, and scenes of this place that froze the blood opened before him. Frozen birds on the branches of trees, animals turned to ice. In some thickets, surrounded by trees, stood frozen people with grimaces of horror on their dead faces. All of them had been caught off guard by a terrible force. On the icy expanses, two words formed out of ice stood frozen: "The Ice Queen."
An atmosphere of icy horror accompanied the Cursed all the way to the gates of the mansion. The gates were slightly open, and the Cursed passed without hindrance into the winter garden that surrounded the building. He was walking along the main alley. Snow-covered trees of the garden stood on either side and seemed to be watching him. In the snow, in some places, lay fragments of ancient armor.
The front door was also unlocked. The Cursed entered the house and sank into the darkness inside. He was walking through the dim corridor. Someone was here. Hiding in the darkness.
Suddenly, on the right, a pale figure appeared with dark circles around her wild eyes, dressed in white clothing. He looked to the right—there was no one. The figure appeared on the left. He snapped his gaze to the left, but again there was no one. Long mirrors hung on the walls, and the terrifying figure was reflected in them.
In the rooms stood ancient, half-ruined furniture. Cabinets, tables, chairs.
The Cursed went up to the second floor. The same atmosphere of ancient decay and abandonment met him there. In one of the rooms, the terrifying figure appeared in the mirror again.
"Pass the trial of the army of the ancient dead, and the secrets of the ancient mansion will open before you..." a sinister whisper sounded.
The Cursed suddenly turned around and again saw only an empty mirror. Only his own reflection and the impenetrable darkness behind his back.
The figure appeared in another mirror.
"Take what the Ice Queen could not take..."
Again a sharp turn and a glance at the mirror. But there was no one there.
Something was happening outside. The atmosphere of the land had changed. The Cursed approached the window.
On the icy plain, in the light of the moon, stood a lone female figure. Dark hair fluttering in the gusts of the cold wind. A burning gaze of blue lights. White skin. Torn pieces of clothing barely concealed her body. For some time she stood on the plain, and then moved toward the mansion.
The Cursed felt a strange magic pressing down on him. Pulling him to the floor, draining his strength.
Footsteps sounded below. Then they rose up the stairs, and the night guest entered the room. Up close, she was extraordinarily attractive, yet at the same time something about her caused an indelible disgust.
She approached the Cursed and embraced him. The blue lights of her eyes were right before him. Her cold, pale, almost completely naked body was alluring.
"This night is ours, warrior," a female whisper sounded from all sides, yet the Cursed saw that the blue lips of the guest were not moving. "Then let us surrender ourselves to it completely..."
The Cursed felt his strength leaving him. He sank to the floor, and the beautiful stranger ended up above him, still holding him in a tight embrace. The blue lights of her eyes filled all the space around him. The Cursed felt himself drifting along the river of death, from which there would be no return.