Most prominently found within video games today, I existed long before they ever did, as one of many Greek wind gods.

Buried deep where ages lie, I watched the countless years go by. No breath I take, no voice I own, for now I’m cast in hardened stone.

Cold, yet I carry fire inside. My wound becomes your light. Older than the blade beside, I sharpened every ancient fight. Break me: I only grow more keen. The coldest fire ever seen.

Cold, yet I carry fire inside. My wound becomes your light. Older than the blade beside, I sharpened every ancient fight. Break me: I only grow more keen. The coldest fire ever seen.

A vibrant tale brushed upon the wall, where stories of gods and men stand tall. Ancient colors whisper from their frame, a still life that time cannot tame.