The eastern wilds had been full of peril, but their journey was far from over. After dispelling the illusions in the forest, King Alden sent word that their mission was expanding. The strange events in Drakenor weren't limited to the wilds—disturbing reports had started to surface from the far north, in the icy realm of Valoria.
A mysterious force had been spreading across the frozen tundra, affecting the Valorian cities. Crops were freezing despite the spring thaw, and villagers had gone missing in the midst of a series of strange storms. Queen Alara, who had been skeptical of the alliance during the gathering, now requested aid.
"Valoria is one of the most resilient kingdoms," Kael said as the group gathered supplies for their journey north. "If they're asking for help, then whatever's happening up there must be serious."
Borin grunted, his heavy fur cloak already wrapped around him in preparation for the cold. "I've never liked the cold, but if the queen of ice herself is worried, I suppose we'd better check it out."
Lyra nodded in agreement, her eyes scanning a map of the northern territories. "It's not just storms. There are whispers of old magic, something ancient that hasn't been seen in centuries."
Thorian, always the scholar, looked thoughtful. "Valoria's history is deeply tied to the ancient elemental magics, particularly those of ice and wind. If this force is connected to those elements, it might explain the strange weather."
Seraphina, her breath misting in the cold morning air, strapped her daggers to her waist. "Whatever it is, we'll find out soon enough. The sooner we solve this mystery, the sooner we can get out of the freezing north."
Their journey began as they headed toward the distant mountains that marked the boundary between the central lands and Valoria. The road grew colder and more treacherous with every mile, the winds biting at their faces, and snow beginning to fall as they approached the border.
Valoria was a kingdom of ice and resilience, its people adapted to the harshest conditions. As they entered the northern kingdom, they passed small villages, where the houses were built low to the ground to withstand the fierce winds. The villagers were wary but respectful, offering the travelers food and shelter as they moved deeper into the realm.
"The storm clouds look unnatural," Kael remarked, gazing up at the sky, where dark clouds swirled in a constant, violent motion. "It's almost as if something's controlling the weather."
Lyra, ever attuned to the flow of magic, closed her eyes and reached out with her senses. "There's definitely something magical in the air. It feels... ancient. Whatever's causing this, it's not natural."
The further north they traveled, the worse the conditions became. The snow piled higher, and the winds howled like banshees, making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. Ice coated their cloaks and horses, and every step became a battle against the relentless cold.
When they finally reached the capital city of Frosthold, they were greeted by an icy fortress that stood proudly against the frozen landscape. The city was built into the side of a mountain, its towering spires shimmering with frost, and its walls thick with layers of ice. It was a place of stark beauty, but there was no mistaking the tension in the air.
Queen Alara met them in the grand hall of Frosthold, her expression as cold and regal as the kingdom she ruled. She was draped in furs, her silver crown gleaming in the dim light of the hall. Behind her stood a cadre of her elite warriors, their faces hard and unyielding.
"Welcome to Valoria," the queen said, her voice as sharp as a blade. "I see you have not wasted time in answering my call."
Kael bowed his head slightly in respect. "We came as soon as we received word. What can you tell us about the storms?"
Alara's eyes narrowed as she spoke. "It started a month ago. At first, it was nothing more than a few strange winds, but then the storms began to intensify. Entire villages have been cut off by snow, and my people are disappearing. There are rumors of something moving through the storm—something ancient and powerful."
Seraphina, ever blunt, asked, "Have you seen it yourself?"
Alara's expression darkened. "No. But my scouts have. They speak of a figure, a shadow in the snow, moving with the storm. It leaves no tracks, no sign of passage, but wherever it goes, the land freezes in its wake."
Thorian's brow furrowed in thought. "This sounds like more than just a natural phenomenon. There's something magical at work here."
Queen Alara nodded. "That's why I requested your help. Valoria's magic is strong, but this... this is beyond our power to stop."
Borin, always direct, crossed his arms. "So, where do we start?"
Alara gestured toward the northernmost reaches of her kingdom, where the land grew even more desolate. "My scouts last saw the figure near the Glacier Fields, beyond the Valley of Ice. If you wish to find the source of the storms, that is where you must go."
Kael exchanged glances with his companions. The Glacier Fields were some of the most inhospitable terrain in all of Drakenor, a place where few dared to venture.
"We'll leave at first light," Kael said, determination in his voice. "Whatever's causing this, we'll find it."
The next morning, they set out toward the Glacier Fields, their journey growing more treacherous with every step. The winds howled, and the snow fell in thick sheets, obscuring their vision and making the landscape almost impossible to navigate.
As they neared the Valley of Ice, the temperature dropped even further. Their breath came in short, frosty bursts, and their horses struggled against the deepening snow.
"This place feels wrong," Lyra said, her voice muffled by the scarf wrapped around her face. "There's something unnatural about this cold."
Thorian nodded, his eyes scanning the horizon. "We're getting close. I can feel the magic growing stronger."
As they reached the edge of the Glacier Fields, the storm intensified, swirling around them with a fury unlike anything they had ever seen. The sky turned a dark, ominous gray, and the wind howled like a beast on the hunt.
And then, in the distance, they saw it.
A figure, barely visible through the snow, moving toward them with slow, deliberate steps. It was tall and cloaked in shadow, its form indistinct but undeniably powerful. Wherever it walked, the ground froze beneath its feet, and the air around it seemed to crackle with ancient magic.
"That's it," Kael said, his voice low. "That's what's causing the storms."
The figure stopped, as if sensing their presence. For a moment, the wind died down, and an eerie silence fell over the Glacier Fields.
Then, with a sudden roar, the storm surged toward them, the figure vanishing into the blizzard.
"Get ready!" Kael shouted, drawing his sword as the storm engulfed them.
They had found the source of the storms. Now, they had to survive it.