Myth Winning Entry

Pandoria sat in her private study, staring past the pile of important papers on her desk and into the dancing flames in her fireplace, simply slouching in her high backed chair with sprawling fatigue. A day full of running to and fro to address this problem or that, from one mistican appealing about the price of turnips or to a criminal case of the darkwood hollow killer being caught at last. Now, finally, when she had a moment to herself to finally breath, she found herself whiskers high in... papers. When did Mistica become such a red tape country? When did my job get so boring? It was mildly annoying, actually. She was the goddess, the supreme ruler! And now she had been subjugated to the position of a petty bureaucrat.

The fire was swimming before her droopy eyes as the warmth in the room covered her like a blanket. A quick cat nap wouldn't hurt much, she thought philosophically, giggling slightly herself. The papers aren't going anywhere, after all...

Her dreams of scrolls of paper running away with spools of red tape to elope in darkwood hollow were joltingly interrupted by the banging open of the door and a gust of cold air that snuffed the fire and froze her muscles into a headache aided wakefulness. "Wha--" she stuttered, before another cold blast of air flattened her to the back of her seat, knocking the breath out of her. The room temperature was still dropping steadily, to unnatural levels for the current state of spring Mistica was in. It was too cold, and that only meant one thing.

Pandoria smashed her open palm into her face to break the layer of ice that had been slowly forming from her breath on her facial fur, blinking away small crystals of ice clinging to her lashes. She stood violently, grabbing the chair she had been sitting on a moment ago-- now frosted with ice-- an threw it with all her strength at the now open door. The entire flying structure was frozen solid before it reached the doorframe, and shattered into a million solid pieces of wood and fabric on impact. The drifts of frozen air scattered with the chair, revealing a very chilly and pissed off Boreal.

"You starry eyed, fluffy tailed little wench!" She snarled, frost dancing in between her fingers as her face creased into an ugly scowl. "How dare you!"

Pandoria surveyed her unexpected visitor with a coldness that would match Boreal's ice cold visage. "I don't know why you're here," she growled softly, but if it isn't a VERY good reason you're going to regret coming."

"Don't give me that, goddess! You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Boreal produced a frostbitten form of paper, and threw it at Pandoria's head, who deftly caught it without opening it.

"We're two parts of a whole! Two goddesses who made Mistica-- and you should have kept your deal that you got two seasons and I got two. But no, you couldn't even be happy with that, could you? Instead, I'm forgotten and you get to keep your little godhead all for yourself, sister!"

Before Pandoria could say anything-- even though she didn't have any words in reply to her silver haired sister-- Boreal curled her hands into claws and pointed at the white braenon, ice magic streaming out to slam into the spot Pandoria has just leapt away from. Boreal's blue eyes narrowed as she darted forward once again, hissing syllables and spells in an ancient language that brought frost elementals to her shoulders. A single spindly finger pointed at her sister sent the malevolent creatures darting from Boreal's shoulder towards the braenon. Pandoria was forced to duck and move again as a flock of them darted at her face, cawing. The source of her power lay just a few feet away, Her Staff topped with a glass ball of her rainbow magic. If only she could get to Her Wand...

The wooden staff shattered in a blast of ice when she was just a handspan away from it, sending the waves of magical energy coursing into the room where they dissipated into the air. The magic would be retrievable, yes, but not immediately and not with the time Pandoria had. With a feral snarl, she turned on her heal and lashed out with her own teeth and claws to slaughter the rest of the ice elementals and break them down until they shattered out of existence.

In the time that took, Boreal has moved close and had a spell for an ice cage in the works to pin Pandoria down, the wisps of her blue-tinted magic swirling in bursts of color around the star goddess. Boreal was maniacal; Pandoria didn't doubt that in her current insanity, Boreal might try to kill her, deprived of magic as she was.

Very unmagically, Pandoria punched Boreal in the face.

Boreal dropped like a stone, completely unprepared for a physical attack, her spell rushing into open air and disappearing. Dazed, she tried to get to her feet again, whereas Pandoria punched her again, right in the eye.

This time when the world stopped spinning Pandoria was standing over her, Her Dagger pressed to Boreal's throat. "This land can only have one leader, Boreal. I was going to leave you be, but now..." Her eyes were hard, cold, and dead. "You'll be worse than just forgotten. You'll be banished to the snow and ice of winter, where your subjects are only your heartless ice spirits and your land is only that covered in frozen tundra. You'll be made into the public enemy, hated by every mistican for your acts against your country. And you'll never be ruler of anything again."

Hate in her eyes, Boreal pushed herself up as soon as Pandoria allowed it, backing up to the now destroyed doorframe with Pandoria's Dagger still pressed to the blue skin of her throat, pasty colored now. "I'll be back, Pandoria, and this time I'll be a Queen. And I'll overthrow you and kill you, just like I should have done before."

Pandoria's grin was anything but humorous. "I'll be expecting you, sister."