The cold bit deep into their bones, and the storm showed no signs of letting up. If they didn't find shelter soon, the frozen north would claim them long before they could uncover the secrets of Valoria's strange weather. But where could they go in this barren, icy wasteland?
Just as the storm seemed ready to swallow them whole, a flicker of movement caught Kael's eye. Through the swirling snow, he saw a figure moving toward them—shorter than a human, bundled in thick furs, and carrying a spear.
"Someone's coming!" Kael called out, gripping the hilt of his sword, unsure whether the figure was friend or foe.
The figure approached cautiously, stopping just outside of striking distance. Then, from beneath the fur hood, a gruff voice called out in a language Kael didn't recognize. Thorian, who had a gift for languages, quickly stepped forward, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace.
"They're speaking Valorian," Thorian said, his voice tense. "It's a dialect I've never heard before, but I can understand most of it."
The figure motioned for them to follow, pointing toward a nearby ridge that seemed to offer some shelter from the storm. Kael hesitated for a moment, unsure if they could trust this stranger, but the biting cold made the decision for him. Nodding to his companions, he signaled for them to follow.
The group trudged through the snow, their bodies aching from the cold, until they reached the ridge. Tucked into a hidden crevice was a small entrance, leading into what appeared to be a cave. The figure gestured for them to enter, and Kael, always wary, entered first with his hand on his sword.
Inside, the air was warmer, and the cave's walls glowed faintly from the light of several small fires burning in shallow pits. The cave was larger than Kael had expected, and as they moved deeper inside, they saw more figures—men and women, all dressed in thick furs, their faces lined with age and hardship. They were a people who had clearly survived in these harsh conditions for generations.
"They must be one of the lost tribes," Thorian whispered as they were led toward a central fire where an elder sat, watching them with keen, weathered eyes.
Kael had heard of the lost tribes of Valoria—ancient clans that had supposedly vanished centuries ago, retreating deeper into the frozen wilderness. Many believed them to be little more than myth, but now, seeing them in person, Kael realized the truth was far more interesting.
The elder rose slowly, leaning on a staff carved with intricate runes. He spoke in the same strange dialect as their guide, and again, Thorian translated.
"He says they are the Aeshkal, one of the first tribes to settle in Valoria before the kingdom as we know it was formed," Thorian explained. "They've lived in isolation for centuries, avoiding the conflicts of the southern kingdoms. But now, something has driven them out of hiding."
The elder's eyes were sharp as he spoke, and his words grew more urgent. Thorian's expression darkened as he listened, and when the elder finished, Thorian turned to Kael, his voice grim.
"The storms," Thorian said, "are not natural. The Aeshkal believe they are being caused by an ancient being, one that has been asleep beneath the ice for millennia. They call it 'The Frozen One,' a creature of immense power tied to the elemental forces of the north."
"The figure we saw in the storm?" Lyra asked, her brow furrowed.
Thorian nodded. "It may be connected. The Aeshkal say the Frozen One is stirring, and with it, the land itself is rebelling. They've never seen the storms like this before, and they fear that if the Frozen One fully awakens, it will bring devastation not just to Valoria, but to all of Drakenor."
Kael felt a chill, one that had nothing to do with the cold outside. "How do we stop it?"
The elder spoke again, his voice low and filled with the weight of history. Thorian translated once more. "There is a way, but it's dangerous. Deep within the Glacier Fields lies an ancient temple—one built by the first mages of Valoria to contain the power of the Frozen One. The Aeshkal believe that if we can reach the temple and reactivate the wards, we may be able to prevent the Frozen One from awakening fully."
Borin, ever practical, grunted. "And I'm guessing the temple isn't exactly easy to get to."
The elder's gaze hardened, and Thorian's next words confirmed Borin's fears. "The temple lies beyond the Valley of Ice, where the storms are strongest. Few have ever ventured there and returned."
Kael's mind raced. This was no simple task, but if they could stop the Frozen One, they might save Valoria and the alliance. If they failed... the consequences were unthinkable.
"We'll go to the temple," Kael said, his voice resolute. "If that's what it takes to stop this."
The elder nodded solemnly, then motioned to their guide, who handed Kael a small, intricately carved amulet. Thorian explained that it was a talisman passed down through generations of the Aeshkal, meant to guide those who sought the temple. It would react to the ancient magic that surrounded the temple, leading them through the storm.
"The Aeshkal will guide us as far as the valley," Kael said, looking to his companions. "From there, we'll be on our own."
Lyra's expression was serious, but determined. "We've faced worse. We'll make it."
Seraphina twirled one of her daggers, her usual smirk returning. "Sounds like fun."
Borin grunted again, but there was a fire in his eyes. "As long as we can hit something, I'm in."
Thorian, ever the scholar, held the amulet up to the light, his eyes glinting with curiosity. "The magic in this... it's powerful. We're dealing with something ancient, far older than any of the magic we've encountered before."
Kael nodded, gripping the hilt of his sword. They had come this far, and there was no turning back now.
The storm still raged outside, but with the guidance of the lost tribe and the amulet in hand, they had a chance. The journey ahead would be treacherous, and the Frozen One's power was growing. But Kael and his companions were determined to face whatever lay ahead. They had to stop the rising storm—no matter the cost.