Story Time: The land of Ísvetr was a realm of endless frost, its white expanse broken only by jagged peaks and ancient pine forests. Here, time seemed to slow, the air frozen in crystalline stillness. Snow fell constantly, but gently, each flake unique and fleeting-a reminder that even in eternity, there was individuality. In the heart of Ísvetr, nestled among cliffs that overlooked an endless plain of ice, stood Vetrsköld, the Stone of Winter. Carved into the rock and ice of a sheer cliff face, it was a towering visage of Queen Elivara, the legendary ruler who had sacrificed herself centuries ago to save her people from the Mörkenflame, a dark magic that threatened to thaw their world and drown it in chaos. Elivara’s face was serene yet commanding, her ice-etched eyes forever gazing out over the frozen expanse. Intricate carvings marked her visage-runes of protection, wisdom, and strength-crafted by the hands of her people in gratitude for her sacrifice. It was said that her spirit lingered there, her wisdom locked within the stone, waiting for a worthy soul to seek it. The wind howled softly through the pines as Queen Ylvia, the youngest ruler in Ísvetr’s history, ascended the final rise. She wore a flowing silver gown, its hem frosted and glistening in the cold, and her long white hair shimmered with the frostfall. At just 19 winters, she bore the weight of a crown too large for her years. Her ascent to power had been sudden and tragic. Her father, King Iskar, had fallen to an unseen sickness that crept like shadow through the palace. There had been whispers of dark magic returning to Ísvetr, but Ylvia had no proof, only doubt-and doubt, she had learned, was a dangerous thing for a queen. She had come to Vetrsköld seeking more than solace. She needed answers. As she approached, the stone face of Elivara loomed above her, impossibly vast and radiant in its icy detail. The queen’s presence dwarfed Ylvia, making her feel like a mere snowflake in a storm. Kneeling before the carving, Ylvia whispered, her breath clouding in the frozen air. “Mother of Winter, hear me. I do not know if you can, but I have come seeking your guidance. The people look to me, but I feel unworthy. Darkness stirs again, and I do not know how to stop it.” The only response was the soft sigh of the wind and the delicate tap of snowflakes against her gown. The silence felt like judgment. She reached out, her gloved hand brushing the frozen edge of the carving. It was colder than anything she had ever touched, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as if the ice was pulling at her thoughts, unraveling the tangled threads of her fear and doubt. The Whisper Then, faint and distant, she heard it-a sound like the breaking of thin ice. “The frost does not question its purpose, child.” Ylvia froze, her breath hitching in her chest. The voice was neither male nor female but resonated like the groan of a glacier. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to cut through the silence of her mind. “The frost does not ask why it falls, nor does the ice ponder why it holds the world together. It simply is. You must be as the frost, unyielding and certain.” “But I am not certain,” Ylvia whispered, her voice trembling. “I am afraid.” The wind picked up, swirling the snow into ghostly patterns. The voice came again, quieter this time, as though retreating into the depths of the stone. “Courage is not the absence of fear. It is the strength to endure it. Go now, and do what must be done.” And then the voice was gone, leaving only the soft sound of the falling snow. Ylvia remained kneeling for a long moment, the frost creeping up the edges of her gown. She didn’t know if what she had heard was real or a figment of her desperation. But something had shifted within her-a resolve as cold and unyielding as the ice itself. Rising, she looked up at Elivara’s face one last time. The carvings seemed to glow faintly, though it might have been a trick of the crimson dawn. Turning, Ylvia began her descent. As she walked, the wind carried a faint whisper through the trees, a voice that sounded like her own. “The frost does not question its purpose.” When Ylvia returned to her people, she was met with wary eyes and whispered doubts. But she moved through them with a quiet confidence, her silver gown trailing behind her like a glacier carving its path through the land. The young queen would lead, as Elivara had before her. But as she stood in the grand hall of her palace, looking out over the endless winter, a single question lingered in her mind: Had the voice she heard been Elivara, or had it been the echo of something she had always carried within herself?
Well this is just the best ever. So evocative & deep. You’ve captured something so magical & true. So many great moments… about courage and self doubt and not knowing how to stop the darkness that is stirring again. I feel this one more than your others and that’s saying a lot lol!! Grand work ❤
Hey there, whoever is taking a moment to read this message, know that your presence here is valued and appreciated. Regardless of where you find yourself in this vast world, may your days be filled with joy, positivity, and the fulfillment of your deepest aspirations. You are extraordinary and deserving of all the happiness in the world. Keep believing in yourself because you are capable of achieving wonderful things! Sending you lots of love and positivity!
As a child I always drew domed cities like these as great underwater habitations, safe from all storms and weather. This music presents the same air of peace and calm.
Watching and listening to your lofi music channel is like taking a journey to a distant land, where the cares of the world fade away and only peace and serenity remain.
I hope you're enjoying this one, your presence and support means a lot : - ) You can support in the following ways: ∞ Download my artwork: orlandoorsen.gumroad.com/ ∞ Send a much appreciated Tip - ko-fi.com/orlandoorsen ∞ Become a member - th-cam.com/channels/heV4WZ9HmCPHHyGDhsmkgg.htmljoin ∞ Like + Subscribe to my channel - www.youtube.com/@etherealodysseymusic?sub_confirmation=1 ~ ⌾rlando ♡ ∞
I do enjoy your season-themed content Orlando. 'Autumnshire' is a personal favorite, and this wintery number is also thoroughly enjoyable. Thank you for your work.
Story Time:
The land of Ísvetr was a realm of endless frost, its white expanse broken only by jagged peaks and ancient pine forests. Here, time seemed to slow, the air frozen in crystalline stillness. Snow fell constantly, but gently, each flake unique and fleeting-a reminder that even in eternity, there was individuality.
In the heart of Ísvetr, nestled among cliffs that overlooked an endless plain of ice, stood Vetrsköld, the Stone of Winter. Carved into the rock and ice of a sheer cliff face, it was a towering visage of Queen Elivara, the legendary ruler who had sacrificed herself centuries ago to save her people from the Mörkenflame, a dark magic that threatened to thaw their world and drown it in chaos.
Elivara’s face was serene yet commanding, her ice-etched eyes forever gazing out over the frozen expanse. Intricate carvings marked her visage-runes of protection, wisdom, and strength-crafted by the hands of her people in gratitude for her sacrifice. It was said that her spirit lingered there, her wisdom locked within the stone, waiting for a worthy soul to seek it.
The wind howled softly through the pines as Queen Ylvia, the youngest ruler in Ísvetr’s history, ascended the final rise. She wore a flowing silver gown, its hem frosted and glistening in the cold, and her long white hair shimmered with the frostfall. At just 19 winters, she bore the weight of a crown too large for her years.
Her ascent to power had been sudden and tragic. Her father, King Iskar, had fallen to an unseen sickness that crept like shadow through the palace. There had been whispers of dark magic returning to Ísvetr, but Ylvia had no proof, only doubt-and doubt, she had learned, was a dangerous thing for a queen.
She had come to Vetrsköld seeking more than solace. She needed answers.
As she approached, the stone face of Elivara loomed above her, impossibly vast and radiant in its icy detail. The queen’s presence dwarfed Ylvia, making her feel like a mere snowflake in a storm.
Kneeling before the carving, Ylvia whispered, her breath clouding in the frozen air.
“Mother of Winter, hear me. I do not know if you can, but I have come seeking your guidance. The people look to me, but I feel unworthy. Darkness stirs again, and I do not know how to stop it.”
The only response was the soft sigh of the wind and the delicate tap of snowflakes against her gown. The silence felt like judgment.
She reached out, her gloved hand brushing the frozen edge of the carving. It was colder than anything she had ever touched, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as if the ice was pulling at her thoughts, unraveling the tangled threads of her fear and doubt.
The Whisper
Then, faint and distant, she heard it-a sound like the breaking of thin ice.
“The frost does not question its purpose, child.”
Ylvia froze, her breath hitching in her chest. The voice was neither male nor female but resonated like the groan of a glacier. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to cut through the silence of her mind.
“The frost does not ask why it falls, nor does the ice ponder why it holds the world together. It simply is. You must be as the frost, unyielding and certain.”
“But I am not certain,” Ylvia whispered, her voice trembling. “I am afraid.”
The wind picked up, swirling the snow into ghostly patterns. The voice came again, quieter this time, as though retreating into the depths of the stone.
“Courage is not the absence of fear. It is the strength to endure it. Go now, and do what must be done.”
And then the voice was gone, leaving only the soft sound of the falling snow.
Ylvia remained kneeling for a long moment, the frost creeping up the edges of her gown. She didn’t know if what she had heard was real or a figment of her desperation. But something had shifted within her-a resolve as cold and unyielding as the ice itself.
Rising, she looked up at Elivara’s face one last time. The carvings seemed to glow faintly, though it might have been a trick of the crimson dawn.
Turning, Ylvia began her descent. As she walked, the wind carried a faint whisper through the trees, a voice that sounded like her own.
“The frost does not question its purpose.”
When Ylvia returned to her people, she was met with wary eyes and whispered doubts. But she moved through them with a quiet confidence, her silver gown trailing behind her like a glacier carving its path through the land.
The young queen would lead, as Elivara had before her. But as she stood in the grand hall of her palace, looking out over the endless winter, a single question lingered in her mind:
Had the voice she heard been Elivara, or had it been the echo of something she had always carried within herself?
Well this is just the best ever. So evocative & deep. You’ve captured something so magical & true. So many great moments… about courage and self doubt and not knowing how to stop the darkness that is stirring again. I feel this one more than your others and that’s saying a lot lol!! Grand work ❤
I wrote a poem while listening.
Amazing. I’d love to read if you feel like sharing
Wooow, incredible! Could you share please? I'd love to read your art piece
Hey there, whoever is taking a moment to read this message, know that your presence here is valued and appreciated. Regardless of where you find yourself in this vast world, may your days be filled with joy, positivity, and the fulfillment of your deepest aspirations. You are extraordinary and deserving of all the happiness in the world. Keep believing in yourself because you are capable of achieving wonderful things! Sending you lots of love and positivity!
Your channel is a beacon of light in a world shrouded in darkness, offering a glimmer of hope and solace for those in need of comfort and reassurance.
As a child I always drew domed cities like these as great underwater habitations, safe from all storms and weather. This music presents the same air of peace and calm.
Glad you enjoyed, thanks for sharing
This is beautiful it captures winter,love the story too!!!❄️❄️❄️
Thank you , glad you enjoyed
Einfach nur himmlisch 💙❄️🩵❄️👍👍👍
Danke
"For those who yearn for more, every step taken is a dance with destiny. 💃"
You just have to step it up 👟
Watching and listening to your lofi music channel is like taking a journey to a distant land, where the cares of the world fade away and only peace and serenity remain.
Another amazing piece. It really helps me stay focused, relaxed but aware on my writing! Thank you so much, Orlando! 🙏🙏
Thank you my friend, happy writing 📝
Just in time for my morning walk. Thanks Orlando!
Enjoy : - )
Simply wow!!!!
: - ) thank you
Great Ambient Music, Thanks!
Thank you for your support, it means a lot : - ) have a lovey day my friend
Nice music and wonderful cover.
Glad you enjoyed : - )
@@etherealodysseymusic Her face is aetherial.
Loving the wintery theme here, quite apt for this time of year! Great work Orlando! 🙌🙌
Thank you my friend❄️
I hope you're enjoying this one, your presence and support means a lot : - ) You can support in the following ways:
∞ Download my artwork: orlandoorsen.gumroad.com/
∞ Send a much appreciated Tip - ko-fi.com/orlandoorsen
∞ Become a member - th-cam.com/channels/heV4WZ9HmCPHHyGDhsmkgg.htmljoin
∞ Like + Subscribe to my channel - www.youtube.com/@etherealodysseymusic?sub_confirmation=1
~ ⌾rlando ♡ ∞
I do enjoy your season-themed content Orlando. 'Autumnshire' is a personal favorite, and this wintery number is also thoroughly enjoyable. Thank you for your work.
That’s great to hear. Autumnshire went a little under the radar, so I appreciate that : - )
Thank you, nice work as always! ❤
Thank you my friend , have a lovely day
ancient ice beauty music💙
Indeed ! Thank you my friend
Благодарю!
You’re welcome
Some richer notes for cozy winter season here in nothern Pakistan...extra blend of ambience my friend @ Orlando
Glad to provide some much needed warmth : - )
❤❤❤🙏🙏🙏❤
❤️❤️❤️🙏🙏🙏❤️