4 July 2012
It was thirty years ago or more that the terrifying White Queen of Narnia turned me to stone. I have been here all this time, holding out my hands in surrender, this shocked expression frozen onto my face. People think we're dead and gone as soon as the skin crackles into marble but the Queen is far more terrible and cruel than anyone imagined. Whenever a bird lands on my head, I feel it's talons as if they were clawing me. I feel the lichen growing on me, hurting me. I feel this never ending winter, the ice that strangles me, this frost that stabs at me. Worst of all I see my wife. Living onwards without me. Her hair has become white and she has no one to look after her; while I, ever ageless, must look upon her without uttering a word. Fear the Queen of death.
Stone Heart • Opuss № I