We were proud, once. We shone with a light not of the Sun’s making. We charted constellations beyond the Moon’s wildest dreams. And through the nights, our auroras far outshone any comets, glowed through the heavy clouds of Winter. There was peace, and there was joy. There was sadness and there was plague and there was hatred and there was war. And still we stood, beholden to no nation, the Paradise Among Blizzards, the Empire of the North. And we were proud.
Darkness fell upon us, a darkness so complete that our lights could not shine, our stars could not be seen. Sun and Moon thought to save us, even as we fell into the never, or the ever, a place beyond time. We were lost, frozen. We were lost in the mysteries of our own minds. We shambled through the once-lively streets, mere shadows of our former glory. Until she came to save us.
We knew from the instant we saw her Mark that she was the Crystal Princess we were promised by the winter winds. She gave us hope, she gave us shelter. And when her heartstone lay in the altar, we let loose our joy to shine over all kingdoms. We were whole. We remembered. And we stood, proud.
And yet, a steel monstrosity smoked and coughed its way to our homeland on long tracks of the same. Outlanders, like those heroes who reminded us of ourselves, came in droves and took up shops, took up jobs, took up houses, took up power. And our princess looked out in joy and proclaimed that we are safe now, that we are a part of something great, that the Sun will protect us.
We polish the walls and spires until they gleam from miles away. We look up at our Princess and pray she will find her senses someday. We work in the shadows, work for the outlanders while understanding their ways, the better to rise above them. We are the Paradise Among Blizzards, the Empire of the North, beholden to no nation. We are patient. We are steadfast. We are proud.