Blood On Ice Skyrim Novels & Stories

The blood ran down in rivulets. So much blood. The ice sparkled sickeningly with red and all Kari could hear was the terrified screams for mercy and forgiveness. Soldiers begging for their lives, begging to end it. The terrified scream of Aster as he let her die by virtue of not protecting her. In his mind’s eye, the beautiful idyllic pool that showed his power was overtaken by creeping ice. The stunning, swirling patterns that iced over the top were blood red and swirling as the color grew bolder and bolder as if more blood was being added. Then more and more still.

It looks like blood sprayed across the snow. Instead of finding a lockbox so Bronx can put clothes on, I roll in the icy mud of the Blood River. The rusty iron stains my thick white fur and it cakes itself into red icicles on my wet coat. I shimmy on my back to really grind it in and slide on my stomach, then roll back and forth to make sure I get it into my sides. Before I walk away, I bury my face all the way in until the frozen ground stops me. I give a hard snort to make sure it’s not up my nose.

Cold blue bleeding off the spearheads. The air in that corridor was thick as clotted blood. Every step forward, the chest smashed through another frozen layer of it. At the end of the corridor, a ring of glass windows twisted the daylight into a single column. The light didn't fall. It slammed down. Molten white poured straight from the zenith and scorched the black basalt floor into a blinding pool. I stepped into the pool of light.

Blood seeped from her wound, staining the floor a vivid scarlet, a stark reminder of the fragility of life. My world shattered. I dropped to my knees, my arms enveloping Zyra's fragile form, her lifeblood seeping through my fingers. The metallic tang of blood hung heavy in the air, intermingling with the raw scent of fear and despair. It was a scene etched into my memory, a portrait of helplessness and fractured bonds.

"We need to talk." "Not now," Kane muttered. Elias leaned in. "Yes, now. What happened out there on the ice? Your eyes. I saw them change." Kane kept wrapping the tape. "You saw nothing. Drop it." "I cannot drop it," Elias said. "One second you were down hard. Next second you looked ready to tear the boards apart. And those eyes glowed. Tell me what is going on." Kane glanced around to make sure no one listened. "It was the lights. Arena plays tricks sometimes."

I ramble, blinking back tears that burn in the back of my eyes. Eryk grabs my wrist. "We even bleed the same colour." I pause, that admission startling me into silence. It dawns on me all over again that my blood is smeared across my face, so hiding the fact it's purple from Eryk is pointless. He's seen it that night on the ice anyway.

Instead of the ice hitting Jim's chest, the spike only hit his shoulder but enough to make him scream in agony. Red crimson fluid immediately streamed out from Jim's impaled wound and fell like cherry red raindrops to the clear crystal floor, staining such vivid glass. Jim then stepped backward to remove his shoulder from the ice spike and he stood up grunting in pain. Blood is still flowing from the wound to his arm and continuously drop to the icy floor creating a mini pool of roses. While Mayari stared at him with unseen lament and irritation for not being able to kill him. His bloody scream didn't satisfy her one bit.

I tried to push myself up, but my hands slipped. A thick dark trail of crimson was smeared across the pristine white ice, leading directly to my boot. The crowd went silent. Sasha skated toward me, stopping a few feet away. There was no longer a playful expression on her face; instead, her eyes tracked the red smear on the ice back to my foot. “What the hell? Is that blood? Aurora, what happened…”

I gag for the metallic smell of blood still lingers on her flesh adding to my abhorrence of it. Her Beta Elriam delivers to me a cup of water that I take thankfully from her hands as I gulp it down speedily easing my sore throat. Once I am relaxed and settled Lumina guides me towards Deimos and Phobos. I grapple to pace steadily stumbling along the way for my being feels weakened overwhelmed by my aversion to blood. I sniff brushing my nose with the sleeve of the snug baggy sweater I obtained from one of the females who was kind enough to lend a few clothes to me for the past weeks.

"I see a snow-covered mountain, the air crisp and biting. And then there's blood, splattered on the pristine white snow." Mink frowned, her hands reaching for mine. "Blood? Whose blood?" I swallowed hard, the images flashing vividly in my mind. "I don't know…but something tells me that it’s mine.” I hear her gasp and quickly try to move forward, to avert her attention from this information. “But then...then I see you, Mink. You're there, standing before me. And then...then I'm falling. Falling off the cliff of the Jharna."