The winter forest was bathed in silence. Any sound in such a secluded place could attract a predator's attention and lead it to its prey. Among the gloomy forest massifs, a giant Deer was leisurely making its way. Its massive antlers stood out against the surrounding nature, and its body was covered in thick fur, protecting it from the icy cold.
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From time to time, the Deer would stop by tree trunks to savor the delicious bark, its main food source. How it managed to maneuver between the trees with its abundance and its cumbersome antlers remained a mystery.
A sudden crunch of a broken branch broke the silence, causing the Deer to tense up. It slowly turned its head, trying to trace the source of the sound. A shadow flickered in its peripheral vision, and it instantly turned its head in that direction but saw nothing.
Feeling a growing sense of danger, it bolted, spurred by the threat. Despite its size, there were predators capable of hunting it. The shadow flitted among the trees, drawing closer.
Suddenly, an icy wall appeared right in front of it. The Deer snorted, nearly crashing into it. As it tried to retreat, another wall formed behind it. Two more walls emerged, blocking all escape routes. The trapped animal desperately tried to break through the ice, but it was too solid. A man landed on one of the walls.
This man was dressed in blue clothing, lacking any fur insulation. Despite the icy cold of the surroundings, he seemed completely unaffected. His hood partially concealed his face, but his eyes, shining with a blue light, stood out vividly. Clenching his fist, he directed it towards the deer, and an icy spike pierced the animal's head. The prey let out a painful cry and then fell silent.
Young Kaylen had grown up significantly; he was now sixteen. He considered himself an adult man and a desirable suitor in his village. Where he had once been despised, he was now regarded as a great warrior of his clan. It all started with his awakening.
His body remained just as weak, but now the cold was no longer his enemy but rather a companion, guiding and supporting him. His fragile body was strengthened through training, transforming from something weak into something divine. As his magic awakened, the color of his eyes changed completely, becoming white. Initially, people thought he had gone blind, but he continued to see, even better than before. When he began to manifest his magic, people believed he was blessed by the gods, who had bestowed their gift upon him.
Gradually, his skill and knowledge grew. Each day he became stronger, and the number of warriors who could rival him dwindled until one day he defeated the clan leader. Although the strongest usually became the clan leader and the one who defeated him in an honest duel could take his place, Kaylen refused. He did not want to rule; he only sought to become stronger. He never wanted to feel weak again or relive the humiliations of his childhood.
Kaylen's family was full of pride and joy. His mother was always in a good mood, boasting about her son's feats to other women, even though everyone in the village was already well aware of his valor. He had repeatedly stood up to protect his village, and strangers who dared to threaten their well-being left in bitter defeat. Kaylen even forgave his father; despite his anger, he was able to let it go, but only after defeating him in a duel, knocking out a couple of his teeth.
Unfortunately, misfortune struck the family. Kaylen's mother could no longer have children despite all their efforts. An examination by a healer revealed a congenital defect, and it was a miracle that even one child was born. Only the most powerful healers could provide treatment, but they resided in the Frost Fortress and did not help outsiders. Therefore, the family could only take pride in their one miracle.
By this time, Kaylen had finished with the Deer and was carrying it to the village. He thought he had caught a good haul and could sell it profitably in the village. Now, as an adult and self-sufficient, he had to take care of himself. As an experienced warrior, he was given his own house, where he lived alone. He had become so focused on achieving strength that he missed out on socializing with his peers, and despite his fame, he had only a few friends.
Kaylen moved swiftly through the forest, using his ice-skating skill. He would create an icy path ahead of him and glide smoothly along it. This method of movement allowed him to achieve high speeds and travel quickly, taking much less time. Soon, he approached his village.
Over seven years, the village had grown a bit. The houses were situated on a small slope, making the approach from the mountain almost impossible. The only way into the village was guarded by two wooden towers and a palisade, protecting not only from predators but also from people. The Rune Wars were long over, and people had rebuilt their settlements after those hard times. Trade flourished, connections between clans were restored, but new conflicts also arose. The Winter's Claw tribe was warlike, and hot blood ran through their veins. Many clans preferred raids and plundering, boasting of their exploits without shame.
The Bearclaw Clan, in contrast, was more peaceful and avoided raids. Their main occupation was hunting, in which they were renowned throughout the North. They formed numerous squads, often capturing and hunting the dangerous creatures of the Freljord. Such wealth aroused envy among their neighbors, and many wanted to seize it for themselves. However, they faced experienced hunters, hardened by battles against dangerous beasts.
Upon reaching the gates, Kaylen greeted the guards and entered the settlement. He easily carried the deer on his back; his physical strength had long surpassed human limits.
He preferred to hand over his catch to the butchers rather than deal with it himself. They took only a small portion of the catch as their fee, leaving the rest for him. Approaching the house adorned with numerous hides, he left his catch outside. Then he entered.
"Kaylen, you're back from the hunt?" one of the women greeted him. She was in charge here, and her name was Rigrid. Her husband had been a hunter, but he had the misfortune of encountering ursine beasts and perished in battle. The widow had to find a way to feed her daughter and herself, so she started a small workshop where she accepted game from hunters, butchered it, and returned most of the meat to them, keeping the hides to make various clothing, some of which she gave to the hunters, while selling the rest. Many widows joined her, and thus the workshop was born.
"Yes, I had a good catch," replied the now mature young man.
"Ingun, come take the warrior's catch," she called to her daughter.
From behind a curtain emerged an attractive girl with long blonde hair braided into plaits. Despite her clothes, it was evident that her body was beginning to develop feminine features.
Rigrid wanted to find a strong partner for her daughter so she wouldn't suffer the sorrow of losing a husband. Kaylen was the perfect candidate—strong, young, and attractive. She constantly tried to bring them closer, but it didn't work out very well. Her daughter claimed she didn't like him and turned up her nose. However, the woman noticed how Ingun secretly watched Kaylen training. Ingun was too shy to express her feelings. So her mother had to take matters into her own hands, finding any excuse for them to spend time together and get to know each other better.
Seeing who had arrived, Ingun's cheeks flushed slightly.
"Hi, Kaylen," she said timidly.
"Good to see you, Ingun," the young man replied.
"Kaylen brought his catch; I'll take it from him," her mother said, smiling slyly.
She nodded to her mother and went outside. Seeing the huge deer, she was slightly scared, took a step back, and bumped into Kaylen's chest. Looking up, their eyes met. For a moment, Ingun froze, then stepped back in embarrassment.
Kaylen continued to watch Ingun as she carefully examined the deer's body, paying particular attention to its antlers. His mother had told him he should find a partner in life. Despite his focus on training, hormones were making themselves known, and he noticed Ingun's glances. He admitted to himself that he liked her.
"Those antlers would be a great decoration at the clan leader's house; anyone would want them," Ingun remarked, inspecting them.
"I don't really need them; you can have them," Kaylen offered, deciding to make her a small gift.
"Really? Mom will be thrilled," she replied joyfully.
"Oh, he's so heavy, I can't handle it alone," Ingun tried to lift the carcass but failed.
Stepping closer, Kaylen easily hoisted the deer onto his shoulder.
"Where should I take it?" he asked.
"To the backyard," Ingun replied, admiring how effortlessly he did it.
Carrying the carcass, he laid it on the butchering table. Ingun began asking him how he had caught the deer, listening intently to Kaylen's story. Their conversation dragged on, and when Ingun didn't return, a few women gathered in the backyard to see why she was taking so long.
Seeing the guests, Kaylen decided to return to his tasks. Bidding farewell to everyone, he headed home.
"Ingun, when can I expect grandchildren?" her cheerful mother asked.
"Mom!" the girl shouted and ran away.
The other women laughed at this, though inwardly they felt a pang of envy.
Kaylen returned home and began undressing right outside. He wore his clothing more like armor; the tough hides of dangerous predators provided good protection against the fangs of beasts and human weapons. His skin was slightly pale. The closer he was to the essence of ice, the lower his body temperature became. His hair was black and cut short, and his thick eyebrows adorned his cold eyes. A small scar on his left cheek, earned in one of his battles, only added to his charm.
Moving to the backyard, he sat down to meditate. Meditation allowed him to clear his mind, relieve fatigue, and better understand his techniques. He breathed calmly to shake off the light exhaustion from his journey and hunt. Frosty breath escaped with each exhale, and snowflakes seemed to be drawn to his body from all around. They rose into the air and swirled around Kaylen.
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It was a mesmerizing sight for anyone who might accidentally see him now. With the next breath, he opened his eyes, and the snow settled on the ground. Not a day passed without meditation; it helped him better project the knowledge passed down by Master Sub-Zero. Another huge benefit was the connection with Mother Nature.
The Freljord felt the bond between them and assisted him. Less energy was required to create magic, and natural phenomena posed no danger.
Rising, he brushed the snow off himself and entered his house. He missed the moments when he returned home to his mother waiting with a delicious dinner. Now, he entered a cold house where no one awaited him.
He placed firewood in the stove, facing his most challenging task—lighting a fire. No matter how much he learned and tried, creating fire was the hardest for him. The element did not yield to Kaylen. After struggling for almost half an hour, he managed to strike a few sparks and light the wood shavings. Finally, the stove was lit, and he could start cooking. Opening a small storage area in the floor, he descended and returned with some meat. Most houses had such storage, maintaining a cool temperature for preserving food.
The typical diet of the Iceborn included meat, fish, and rare cold-resistant plants. During the summer, they managed to gather more food, storing and preserving it for winter, living off what they had prepared during the warmer months.
Grilling a good piece of meat on the stove, he seasoned it with dried herbs. Placing bread on the cool stove, he waited until it was slightly warmed. Breaking off a piece, he began eating the meat. Taking a brief pause, he poured water into a kettle and set it on the stove, adding herbs, then resumed eating. The diet was simple, but choices in the region were limited. Kaylen wasn't known for his culinary skills, so he cooked what he could. When the water in the kettle boiled, he poured himself a cup, his hands slightly coated with ice to lower the water's temperature. Taking a sip from the cup, he savored the taste.
Suddenly, the door to the house burst open, and a long-time acquaintance of Kaylen appeared on the threshold. They had met during training for young warriors. Their first encounter hadn't gone well; they were pitted against each other for sparring, and the then-weak Kaylen could do nothing against the already well-built and precociously strong Yorund. The defeat was quick and painful. In every subsequent training session, he faced Yorund, who physically and mentally tormented the weak boy, but this only strengthened Kaylen's resolve to become stronger. Until one of the duels, he managed to throw Yorund to the ground, turning his face into a bloody mess.
Kaylen thought they would become enemies, but no—at the next training session, Yorund arrived with a wide smile, missing teeth, and a swollen cheek. He shook Kaylen's hand firmly, expressing respect. Accepting his defeat and saying that next time it would be Kaylen's face looking like that, they began their unusual friendship.
Yorund looked like a typical northern warrior: tall and well-built, with light hair and a thick beard. He was dressed in fur garments, adding to his rugged appearance and protecting him from the cold of the northern lands.
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"Kaylen, how could you forget your friend and go hunting without me?" Yorund asked with displeasure, sitting down opposite him. Somehow, he knew Kaylen had just returned with a catch.
"I wasn't planning on hunting, it just happened," Kaylen replied. He had initially set out to survey the area and observe the surroundings. A hunter must know his territory well. The deer was a lucky find, and he didn't want to pass up such a good catch.
"Well, in that case, I forgive you," Yorund smiled and took Kaylen's cup, downing its contents in one gulp before immediately spitting it out, the water turning to ice before hitting him. "Ugh, your cursed tea again. When will you drink mead or at least beer?" he said, sticking out his tongue in disgust.
"Mead and beer cloud the mind, while tea helps clear it," Kaylen said calmly.
"I don't care what they do. All I know is your tea is disgusting, and mead is delicious," Yorund said, pointing to the kettle and then patting his stomach as he remembered the taste of mead.
"Your choice," Kaylen shrugged. "So, why are you here?"
Kaylen sat back down and resumed drinking his tea after Yorund left. Despite his friend's disdain for his beverage of choice, Kaylen found solace in the simplicity and clarity it provided. It was a part of his daily ritual, a moment of calm and focus before facing the world.
Yorund had mentioned a meeting at sunset to discuss a significant hunt. Kaylen understood the importance of these gatherings, where honor and respect among the clans could be earned. He decided to make good use of the remaining time before the meeting.
Finishing his meal, Kaylen thought it would be prudent to visit the healer. Despite her notoriously bad temper, everyone sought her strengthening potions for the increased chances of survival they provided. Kaylen often helped the old woman in exchange for stronger potions. He donned light, sleeveless clothing and made his way to her hut. The walk didn't take long, and after knocking, he entered.
"Lady Asgerda, I hope I'm not disturbing you," he said respectfully.
"Ah, it's you. Don't you have anything better to do than come here all the time?" she responded in a less-than-friendly tone. Kaylen knew she had saved him multiple times in his childhood and had healed his injuries on many occasions, so he never took offense at her words.
"My progress has come to a halt. I try to train, but my ice magic isn't developing any further," Kaylen explained. When he had first shown signs of ice magic, she had taken it upon herself to teach him about the nature of their land and the art of ice magic.
"Found your problem, have you?" the old woman snorted without looking up from her work.
"I've come to you as a wise woman, seeking advice," he persisted. Although he had memories of all the techniques, he lacked the finer details, and many subtleties had to be learned on his own. Mastery of ice magic was still elusive to him.
"Flattery won't get you anywhere. You've reached your limit. From here on, you'll either stay where you are or walk the line between life and death, where you'll have no choice but to ascend to a higher level," Asgerda said.
"So, I need a strong opponent?" Kaylen concluded.
"How should I know? Now, off with you, stop bothering me," she said, pushing him out with her staff and handing him a vial.
Kaylen didn't resist and left the hut. If he needed a strong opponent, he would find one.
The name Kailen is an abbreviation of Kuai Liang, slightly modified. The tribal formation in all of Freljord is roughly divided into three tribes, but they have many different settlements, only the Frost Guardians are under the unified rule of Lysandra, all others are disparate.
Claw of Winter is more about the beliefs of the inhabitants themselves, expressed through respect for tradition and following the example of their ancestors. The problem with League of Legends is that its lore is too vast, and there are no stories as such. There is only a series of basic events.
The exact dates are unknown. It is impossible to determine exactly who lived when, how much time has passed. So, for example, every hero's story, it is unknown when it happened, and it is even unknown where it happened, although there is one exception.