Chapter 4: Ice, Bones and Ruins

"I hate this snow," Vaelira groaned, kicking a lump of powder off her boot. "Too dry. Means it's going to get colder."

Edrin didn't look up. "That, or you're bad at picking routes."

"You said this lead sounded promising."

"I said it sounded like someone thought It was promising." He adjusted the strap of his pack and squinted at the treeline ahead. "That's not the same."

Vaelira rolled her eyes and walked a little faster, boots crunching through the thin layer of frost. Her staff tapped against the ice every few steps, sending soft echoes down the slope. "It'll be real. I can feel it this time."

"You said that about the cave with the glowing mushrooms."

"The mushrooms were magical."

"That wasn’t magic. Just cave-fungus trying to be impressive."

She didn't reply to that — mostly because she didn't have a good comeback. Her fingers tightened around the map she'd half-folded in her pocket. Somewhere ahead, tucked into the cliffs beyond the tree line, was a ruin.

Maybe Ylvaari. Maybe something older. Maybe nothing at all. But if there was even a chance it was connected to Frost's Embrace, she had to see it for herself.

The path narrowed as the trees began to thin. The air had shifted — colder than before.

Edrin stopped beside her and gave a low whistle. "See that?"

She followed his gaze. Just ahead, something solid broke through the snow — the top of a stone wall, maybe. It looked old. Half-buried, but real.

Vaelira's heart jumped. "Found it! Told you that I am a great navigator."

"What, not the great mage anymore?"

"Oh shut up."

The slope grew steeper as they approached, the wind biting harder with every step. Snow had drifted over most of the entrance, but not completely. Stone peeked through the frost — dark grey, worn smooth by time, carved with lines Vaelira couldn't quite make out from here.

"Definitely not a cave," she said

Edrin crouched by the stone, brushing snow away with one gloved hand. "Looks like a wall. Might've been part of a tower once."

"Or a temple," Vaelira offered, stepping closer. Her eyes narrowed. "There's writing."

"Can you read it?"

"Maybe." She knelt beside him, fingers trailing over the surface. Cold seeped through her gloves. "Could be Ylvaari. Some of the letters match. But the rest... I don't know."

"Good sign?"

"Great sign."

"Speaking of..." Edrin interrupted. "What was that you said when you cast your spell? Didn't understand a word of it."

Vaelira gave a short shrug. "Ylvaari. Old phrasing. I picked it up when I was younger."

"For spells?"

"Sort of. Our people tend to use them when casting bigger ones. Not sure why — it just comes instinctively."

Edrin nodded slowly. "And what did you say, exactly?"

"Eris van’ilen suura." She glanced at him. "Roughly… ‘bind the breath of winter.’"

"Sounds fancy."

"Sounds like it worked." After her words, Edrin just smiled.

"Anyway!" She stood and grinned, eyes sparkling. "Help me find the entrance."

"You're just going to kick the door down again, aren't you?"

"That happened once. And I'm still convinced that door deserved it."

Edrin just sighed and started scanning the slope. "Alright, let's see what we're dealing with."

They circled the half-buried structure, boots crunching through thick snow. After a few minutes, Vaelira called out.

"Here!" She crouched near a narrow break in the stones, half-hidden behind a drift. "This looks like a passage — might go deeper."

Edrin joined her, peering inside. "Tight fit. And probably freezing in there."

"Sounds perfect."

She ducked inside without waiting. Edrin hesitated for half a second, then followed her in.

The tunnel sloped down. The floor was uneven, and the walls were covered in frost. Each breath came out like a puff of smoke. It was colder than outside — the kind of cold that made fingers ache even through gloves.

"Too Dark," Edrin said. He reached into his pack and pulled out a torch, striking flint against steel. It lit up, casting light against the stone walls. Strange shapes and symbols covered the walls — some carved deep, others barely visible under the ice.

"Still think this isn't promising?" Vaelira asked.

"I'm thinking most ruins don't need traps and pitch-black tunnels to hide something."

"That means it's the right kind."

The tunnel stretched ahead, curving slightly to the left. Edrin stepped carefully, eyes on the floor. His torchlight flickered over the stone — then caught something.

"Stop." He held an arm out in front of Vaelira.

She frowned. "What?"

He pointed down. "That tile. It's cleaner than the others."

She leaned over his shoulder. The stone he pointed to was slightly different — smoother, with a circular symbol carved into it. The tiles around it were chipped, cracked, and covered in frost. But this one was almost untouched.

"Trap?" She asked.

"Trap. Pressure plate, probably."

"You're good at this."

"Thanks. I enjoy not dying."

He carefully stepped around it, hugging the wall. Vaelira followed, a bit less carefully, but still managed not to trigger anything. The tunnel narrowed ahead, then opened into a small chamber.

The room was round, the walls smooth and curved, like they’d been carved on purpose instead of worn down by time. Frost covered everything — thick in places, almost like glass. Bits of ice drifted through the air.

Cracks ran through the far wall, thin and jagged, and a faint blue light glowed from inside them. The floor was uneven, with patches of slick ice and broken stone tiles beneath the frost.

A few pieces of broken equipment lay frozen near the edges — the shattered remains of a pack, a boot turned on its side, metal tools too rusted to name.

"Whatever this is," Vaelira said, "someone’s been here before. They just didn’t make it far."

A breeze rushed past them, pulling the warmth from the air in seconds.

"That's not normal wind," Vaelira said quietly.

"Yeah. I got that part."

Vaelira took a step forward. The light reacted, growing brighter. A low hum filled the room, followed by a sudden burst of freezing air.

"Okay!" She shielded her face. "Yep, that's magical!"

"We're calling this a good sign, right?"

She moved closer to the light, her boots crunching on frost. The patterns reminded her of Lexicon runes — older maybe, but familiar in structure. The Codex always left echoes, even in forgotten places.

"Looks like a seal," she said, "Maybe a lock. Could be magical, could be reactive."

"That's a lot of guessing," Edrin said, staying by the entrance. "Any of that guesswork involve not setting off another ice blast?"

"I'll be careful."

She reached out with her staff, tapping the end gently against one of the glowing symbols. The light flared — and then faded again. Nothing happened.

Vaelira frowned. "Alright. A little more this time."

She closed her eyes, focused, and let a small pulse of mana flow through the staff. The runes lit up again — then all at once, the entire wall flashed blue and released another blast of freezing wind.

The air howled around her. Ice formed instantly on the stone floor and across her cloak.

"Careful!" Edrin shouted, half-drawing his bow.

Vaelira gritted her teeth. "I am being careful!"

She stepped forward again, this time gripping the staff tighter. "Fine. Let's try this properly."

She muttered under her breath — "Aven thar’suun velaryn." — and this time, the magic roared to life. A wave of frost burst from the tip of her staff, hitting the wall directly. The runes glowed, surged, and then… shattered.

The wall cracked down the middle with a sound like splitting glass. The cold vanished so fast it felt wrong.

Edrin slowly lowered his bow. "So. That’s how we’re handling puzzles now."

Vaelira straightened her cloak, brushing frost from her sleeve. "It worked."

"You broke it."

"You say that like it’s a problem"

Behind the broken wall was a narrow passage, barely wide enough for one person. No more runes, no more traps — just a low glow coming from deeper inside.

"Well," Edrin said, stepping beside her. "After you, door-breaker."

Vaelira gave him a look, then moved forward.

The passage beyond the broken wall narrowed before opening again into another hallway — longer, darker, colder.

Sounds came — faint at first. Metal scraping stone. Bones clicking.

"Hold up," Edrin said.

Too late.

Three shapes stepped out of the darkness. Skeletal figures, wrapped in old, frost-covered armor. One raised a rusted sword. Another raised its hand — and frost bloomed along the walls.

"Of course it’s undead," Vaelira said.

Edrin tossed the torch to the side and drew his sword.

"Since when do you use that?" Vaelira asked.

"When I don’t have time to aim."

He stepped forward and swung — and missed. The blade hit the wall , sparks flying. The skeleton didn’t even flinch.

"Nice swordwork," Vaelira called. "Maybe hit the undead next time, not the wall."

"I’m a ranger, not a knight!""

One of the undead lunged at him. Edrin caught its arm with a panicked block, barely holding it back. Another closed in behind.

Vaelira's heart jumped. She stepped back, raised her staff and whispered a word — but the spell fizzled, too weak. Her palms were sweating. Her breath came short.

"No, no—come on—"

One of the skeletons raised its blade high. Edrin twisted, dragging the first one with him, but he wouldn’t dodge both.

Vaelira didn't think.

Her grip tightened around the staff. She shouted something — not a full spell, not even the right words.

Ice surged forward.

A wave of frost exploded down the hallway, blasting through the undead like a winter storm. Bones shattered. Ice covered everything — the floor, the ceiling, the walls. Part of the stone above them cracked with a sharp snap and rained frozen dust.

Edrin stumbled back, nearly losing his footing as the hallway turned into a skating path. He caught himself against the wall, painting.

Vaelira stood frozen, staff still raised, eyes wide.

"Okay," Edrin said slowly, "That... was a bit much."

"It worked."

"You nearly turned me into a snow sculpture."

"Only your legs."

"Still counts."

Vaelira exhaled, brushing a streak of frost from her hair. "For once, I'm not the only one failing.

Edrin looked down at his sword, still half-raised. "Let's never speak of this moment again."

She grinned. "Deal."

They moved carefully through the shattered remains of the hallway. Their boots crunching over frost-covered bone and cracked stone. Beyond the last fallen skeleton, the hallway turned — and opened into a chamber.

This one was different.

The ceiling here arched higher than the others, its smooth stone curve completely intact. No signs of collapse. No frost lining the walls. The light from Edrin's torch flickered against surfaces, revealing detailed carvings.

"Someone kept this place sealed," Vaelira said. Her voice sounded small in the room. "Intentionally."

In the center stood a raised platform, a wide circular slab of pale grey stone. Around the edges, text in curved lettering ran along a ring of runes — some chipped, some glowing faintly. At its center, a symbol: a starburst, encircled by marks like shards of ice or spears of light.

Vaelira stepped forward slowly, brushing her fingers along the edge of the platform. The stone was warm. Not hot, but definitely not cold — wrong, given where they were. She knelt down, eyes focused on the writing.

"Can you read it?" Edrin asked.

"Parts." Her brow furrowed. "It's poetic. Half symbolic, half literal." She squinted at one line.

"Something about... the breath of winter chained in silence... waiting for a voice to call it back?"

"That's dramatic, even for you."

"I didn't write it."

She moved to the center of the circle.

"No light show this time," Edrin said.

"Good," Vaelira replied. "I’m not in the mood for more collapsing ceilings."

She studied carving again. "This wasn’t meant to hold Frost’s Embrace. This was a place of... preparation. Or maybe worship."

Edrin looked unimpressed. "So no secret spellbook. No glowing relic."

"No," Vaelira said softly. "But someone was looking for it. Whoever used this ruin, they believed it was real."

Her fingers brushed along the edge of the symbol — a starburst, etched in deep. Around it, broken text: parts of a prayer, maybe, or a vow.

"We call to the frozen star... the flame within the silence... break the sky and be known."

She stepped back. "It’s all fragments. Hints. No answers."

"You disappointed?"

"Not really." She stared at the carving. "This is the first time I’ve found anything that felt real."

The wind had picked up by the time they made it out of the ruin, the sky already darkened. Edrin led the way downhill to a small hollow — just deep enough to block the worst of the wind.

Once there, he got a fire going while Vaelira sat nearby, arms wrapped around her knees, cloak pulled tight. Her cheeks were red from the cold, hair still dusted with frost.

The flames crackled softly. The light painted their faces in orange.

"You alright?" Edrin asked.

Vaelira nodded. "Just... tired."

He handed her a strip of dried meat.

"You didn't explode anything this time. That's progress."

"Give it time."

Minutes passed. She stared into the fire for a moment before speaking again.

"There wasn't anything there. Not really. Just words. Ritual junk. Some broken carving and old hopes."

"That's more than most ruins offer."

"I know..." She glanced over. "It's just... it felt real. For the first time. Like I wasn't chasing shadows."

"And that's bad?"

"No." A moment passed. "Maybe. If it's real, it means I can fail."

He didn't answer right away, glancing towards the sky.

"You didn't fail today. You handled yourself."

Vaelira looked down at her hands. "Barely. I was almost late. And then, I still nearly froze you."

"I'll take frostbite over being gutted by a skeleton."

"Such high standards."

"I'm a practical man."

He poked at the fire. "...Used to write stuff. Just little lines. Helped me focus."

Vaelira looked over. "What, like spells?"

"No. Just... things I didn’t want to forget."

She raised an eyebrow. "You write?"

He shrugged. "Not lately."

"Huh." A beat. “That's adorable.”

He sighed. "I’m going to regret saying that, aren’t I?"

"Absolutely."

She smirked, then looked back at the fire.

"I don't know what I'm expecting to find. I don't know what I'll do if we actually reach it."

"Then don't think about it yet."

Vaelira’s eyebrow twitched. "That easy?"

"It is for tonight. Eat. Rest. Be smug about beating undead with a blizzard. Tomorrow we worry about our next destination."

She looked at him for a second longer, then nodded. "Alright. But we never talk about the door situation again."

He grinned. "What, don't want to talk of how-" Vaelira raised her hand.

"If you mention the door again, we will talk of your sword technique."

"Fine, fine I get the point."

She hadn’t found the answer.

But at least now it felt like the search meant something.