Cold and Dark

As the night went on Wraithyr remained outside, sitting beneath her icy double, unbothered by the howling wind and biting cold. The lights radiating from the many ice sculptures and the warm glow that spilled out of windows kept the all consuming winter darkness at bay. 

Inevitably, rifts started to appear around the town center. The usual vines snaked out before recoiling in the frigid air and disappearing back into the void, though the rifts remained. After a few minutes of no activity something else came through; branches, or maybe roots, slowly reached out. Like hands they grasped at anything nearby, trying to grab any unsuspecting Spectrel that happened to be too close. Thankfully most of the town was inside at this time, leaving the gnarled branches to only grab at the numerous ice sculptures. 

Wraithyr stood, axe in hand. “You are not welcome here.” She said before swiftly severing a cluster of branches, frost gathering at the cut. The frozen branches retreated before more appeared in their place to seize Wraithyr, but the sub zero temperatures seemed to make the strange plant life from the rift much more sluggish than before. 

“Whoa! What are those?” 

“They look so creepy!”

Two young Spectrels had their faces pressed against the cold glass, peering outside.

More Spectrels congregated over by the windows to see rifts and Wraithyr in action.

Some of the more curious Spectrels peeked out of the doors or stepped outside to get a better view. 

“Stay inside!” Wraithyr shouted at them. But it was too late for some.

They might have been slower but once the branches latched on their grip was like iron, tightly clutching anyone unfortunate enough to have been caught in their grasp. 

Some Spectrels tried to pull their friends and family out of the branches, only to be grabbed themselves. Others ran, hiding back inside buildings, the ones that were lucky enough to avoid the gantlet of roots anyway.

“Guess it’s about that time.” Ardjinn stretched and cracked his neck before leaving the building with Faeveil and Yūrein. 

Rhen took a look around before cautiously stepping outside with Rhynne close behind. 

“Rhen, what are you doing?” Rhynne grabbed his arm to stop him from going farther. 

“We can’t just-”

“They can handle it.”

Rhen looked back at his sister.

“I know you want to help but-” Rhynne was interrupted when she was jerked to the side by her brother, away from the rift that just appeared near them. 

Though he was fast enough to pull Rhynne to safety before the roots could take hold of her, it only resulted in Rhen being caught in their grasp instead. He fell flat on the ground, the roots wrapped firmly around his leg dragging him slowly towards the rift they had emerged from.

“Rhen!” Rhynne grabbed hold of her brother and tried to tug him out of the roots grasp, but to no avail. She was dragged slowly along with her brother, refusing to let go.

“H-help!” Rhen blurted out before he could stop himself. Though he didn’t want his sister getting dragged in with him he was still scared.

“I’ve got you! It’s okay, I’ve got you!” Rhynne dug her feet in and tugged back on Rhen as best she could but it seemed to barely hinder the roots progress.

Rhen glanced frantically between the rift and his sister as they drew closer. “You-you have to let go!”

“What? No! I’m not letting go of you!”

“Rhynne please! You’ll get pulled in too!”

“I’m not letting go!”

The closer they came to the rift the more Rhen begged for his sister to let go, even as he was halfway through she still held tightly to him. Rhen began to panic, both for himself and for his sister. He struggled and thrashed against her in an attempt to shake her off before both of them were swallowed up. 

“Rhen no!” Rhynne screamed as she lost her grip and her brother disappeared into the rift.

It was dark, very dark. Rhen could barely even see the rift he had just been pulled through anymore. It seemed so far away now, well beyond his reach. The Gods would be able to rescue him like they’d done before though, right? With all four of them there surely there was no way they couldn’t beat back the rifts like last time. 

Rhen did his best to keep from imagining the worst case scenarios but the vast expanse of nothing surrounding him and the tiny specks of the rifts leading to Frostpike in the distance left him feeling more hopeless the farther he was pulled from them by the roots still firmly wrapped around his leg. At least Rhynne didn’t get dragged in with him. And at least it was warmer inside the rift than the frozen town he’d been plucked from. 

Rhen felt like he was stuck somewhere between a dream and a nightmare. Roots and branches stretched out across the void around him. A weightless river drifted past him towards an opening in the rift while rocks of varying sizes spiraled towards their own openings. He closed his eyes, no longer wanting to look at the surreal space around him.

A soft, golden glow slowly lit up the space and Rhen caught a glimpse of shimmering feathers before gentle talons wrapped around his arms. He looked up to see Yūrein, though ghostly and slightly translucent, had a firm hold on him with her feet. 

Yūrein raised what appeared to be one of Wraithyr’s axes in her hands. Somehow she even managed to still look graceful swinging an axe through the roots he was tangled in. Once free Yūrein spread her many wings out and with a single powerful flap they flew back out of the rift.

Rhynne hugged Rhen the moment he was placed back on solid ground, clinging tightly to him as he regained his bearings. By the looks of things his time within the rift must have been only seconds but it had felt like hours. 

“Are you alright?” Rhynne looked over him, her hands firmly planted on his shoulders.

“Y-yeah,” Rhen didn’t realize till now that he was shaking, his voice wavering. He paused to take a deep breath, frigid air filling his lungs. “I’m alright.”

“You both should get back inside,” Yūrein told them, her ethereal form swaying as if only affected by a gentle breeze and not the cutting wind that swirled around them. 

Farther away a branch had snared Faeveil’s tail, tugging him slowly but surely back towards the rift it came from. He dropped to all fours to get better traction but the snow simply gave way beneath his feet and hands, the ice underneath providing no foothold. There was a sudden flash of light and heat, causing the branch’s grip to loosen as it burned away.

“Careful there, big guy.” Ardjinn patted Faeveil’s shoulder. 

Faeveil huffed as he straightened back up. “... Thanks.”

“No problem.”

A rift opened up above the two gods and water began to spill out. A strong gust of wind from Yūrein pushed the water aside before it was immediately frozen with one of Wraithyr’s axes, leaving an arch of ice trailing back up into the rift.

Yūrein looked back at the prince and princess again and gave them a reassuring smile as she gently shooed them along to head back inside. “We’ve got this handled, don’t worry.” 

With Wraithyr freezing the water before it had a chance to put out Ardjinn’s flames he was able to make quick work of the roots and branches before any other could be pulled in. Many of the smaller rifts were closing up as the burnt remains retreated. 

“Looks like we’ve really gotten the hang of this now, huh?” Ardjinn casually leaned against a building.

“If you set a single building on fire I will end you personally, Ardjinn.” Wraithyr growled. 

“Well it’s not like I plan to.” Ardjinn replied indignantly, he stepped away from the building nonetheless.

The largest rift to appear yet tore open next to Wraithyr’s sculpture. Massive roots shaped like hands reached out and grabbed the sculpture, breaking it apart when they tried to drag it into the rift. As it fell to pieces the hands balled into fists and slammed into the ground. 

Ardjinn casually stretched once more and rolled his shoulders. “My time to shine.”

“You’re reckless when you show off.” Wraithyr held out her axe to block Ardjinn from walking past her. “Don’t let your ego guide your actions.” She pulled her axe back and was off before Ardjinn even had a chance to respond. 

All four of Ardjinn’s hands clenched into fists, the flame atop his head burned larger and brighter before being subdued back to its normal state as he slowly exhaled. Steam rose from his footprints in the snow as he stepped forward. 

The ice from Wraithyr’s axes slowed the massive roots as she cut into them, however these roots were evidently much too tough and dense to cleanly cut through. Wraithyr continued to hack away at the roots as they came at her while Faeveil and Yūrein worked in tandem to retrieve the remaining Spectrels caught in the rifts. 

As Ardjinn approached the largest rift, smaller rifts began to open up near him, trying to extinguish his flame before he reached it. Whatever was on the other side must have been running out of energy or resources, worn down by having to deal with all four gods at once, because the streams that shot out at him were much too small, even collectively, to put him out. The water hissed as it was vaporized immediately on contact with Ardjinn’s body. 

More massive hands, this time with rocks tangled up in with the roots, came out of the large rift to keep Ardjinn at bay. They came down hard on the desert god, who didn’t even bother getting out of the way, instead they were abruptly stopped as Ardjinn caught them with his four arms, pushing back against them. 

“I’m getting” He shifted his stance, “really tired-” the frigid air around him heated up,“of dealing with you!” Ardjinn shouted at the rift as he shoved the hands back, surrounding them in a fiery vortex. 

The hands recoiled as the flames rapidly traveled up them and back into the rift, the rocks fell from them as the roots holding them in place burned to ash. Ardjinn caught some of the rocks as they rained down around him, heating them in his palms to near magma before hurling them into the rift after the retreating roots. 

Some of the hands that were dealing with Wraithyr rose up to stop the molten rocks from reentering but the rocks seared right into them and ignited the branches. The hands slammed down into the ground again, using the snow to quickly put out the flame before it spread.

Wraithyr used this opportunity to throw her axes at the hands, freezing them to the ground.

“Ardjinn!” She called back at him as more roots and branches shot out and went for her, forcing her to fall back to dodge them. “Finish it!” 

Ardjinn was going to have to go into the final largest rift to fully close it, wasn’t he. Great, awesome, his favorite. Once more he leapt into the rift, searing the remaining roots as he went by. Soon enough the branches Wraithyr was fighting off fell and went limp as they burned from inside the rift.

The frozen hands freed themselves from the ice in frantic, jerking movements as Ardjinn stepped back out of the rift. They seemed almost desperate, clawing at the snow covered ground in an attempt to grab onto something, anything, before the rift closed. The gods stood by in case it tried anything else, but they knew this altercation was over. Slowly the rift itself crackled and burned away as the branch hands ceased to move. After the final rift had closed something remained in the snow.

Yūrein went over and picked up what had been left behind. She held out her hand for the others to see. Purple flower petals and a strange seed.

The Final Chapter coming soon!