No matter how many paintings or stories or songs he experienced about it, nothing truly compared to nature except the outdoors itself. It was impossible for any artist to capture the landscape of the dazzling snowy of the forest. It was improbable for a musician to string a melody that compared to the natural symphony created by the snow-larks and icicles dripping from the branches of tall, mint-scented trees. But that didn't stop a few brave souls from trying. The kingdom of Sarcodes was vast, and touched only a few other lands. To the southern boarder was the great enchanted wall, that separated Sarcodes from the Elven kingdom. To the west, far from the coast, were the Curdled isles, where an old civilization once lived. 

Sarcodes wasn't an especially barbaric or advanced civilization, but they had much access to the magic known as alchemy, in which they used rather frequently. The snowy, dry, forested land was home to millions, and they were all under the rule of a joint royalty of three families. These three were the descendants of the many powers that previously ruled the land. The three had total power, and there were countless nobles who assisted in ruling the individual districts. It was all very neat and orderly, but it wasn't always that way. In fact, in the past, there was a major war, in which the Elven kingdom had been devastated. 

Because of that, they built a wall to keep everyone else out. 

It had been centuries since the war- but there was still bad blood over it. Even though the royal family believed themselves to be 'civilized', they had a very grisly tradition. In order for a child to display their maturity and be eligible for the crown, they had to slay a dragon who lived in the snowy outskirts of Sarcodes. However, in more recent times, dragons had become scarce. As such, it would be extremely hard to find one. 

But prince Polaris wouldn't say the task was impossible, even if it was true. He was as strong-headed as he was talented, and as a human, that was a pretty bad quality to have. He took a deep breath of thin mountain air. As tradition went, he was by himself. There was no point in having a proof of courage with someone else's help. He was a young man of average height and dark hair, that almost seemed a grey color that fell in a semi-neat style. 

Polaris, the king's second son. He was likely the most immature of his brothers, and probably the most gullible. But he hid it behind a handsome, regal appearance and a crude sense of humor only his servants know of. He had been trekking for about a month, and had no luck. Polaris hugged his fur coat closer to his body, drawing in its warmth. It was cold. Not nearly a subzero climate, but still freezing. The prince took another deep breath and waited, shifting his position lying down on the snowy ground. He... sensed something...