The legend of the Valravn

The air was so cold that it could freeze the bones of any human.

Princess Noirin stood at the edge of the frozen lake, her breath forming a mist in the frigid air. The land of Annwfn was known for its harsh winters, but this year seemed colder than ever. She wrapped her fur cloak tighter around herself, the thick material offering little respite from the biting cold that seeped into her very soul.

Her gaze drifted across the barren landscape, where the once lush trees now stood bare and skeletal. Ice shimmered on the branches, like fragile crystal daggers. The land seemed trapped in a perpetual slumber, waiting for the warmth of spring to awaken it from its wintry grip.

But despite the desolation, Noirin found solace in the beauty of the winter landscape. The blanket of snow sparkled like diamonds, creating a pristine, ethereal world. She believed in the power of nature, and in the whispers of the wind that carried ancient secrets.

It was during moments like these, surrounded by the tranquil stillness, that Noirin's thoughts often drifted to the enigmatic Merlin. She had first met him several moons ago, when she had stumbled upon him in the forests of Camelot. Drawn to his mysterious aura and captivating presence, she found herself irresistibly drawn to him, despite the knowledge that he was the demon king.

Their encounters had been brief and secretive, but each time they met, the connection between them grew stronger. She was aware of the dangers that lurked within him, the darkness that threatened to consume him. And yet, she could not help but feel a strange kinship, a spark that ignited within her whenever their eyes met.

Princess Noirin's heart yearned for more, a chance to explore what lay between them. But as the legend of the Valravn whispered through the winds, she knew that their path was destined to be anything but easy.