Chapter 4 - The Storm (POV: Samirah)

The twisted stump clung desperately to the ground as the wind howled around us. The massive piece of woody debris was easily the size of a small boulder, and likely just as heavy.

“We need to get down!” I screamed at my traveling party, but the gale stole my message, sending it flying away.

“What did you say?” Shareem yelled at me.

“Get down!”

The stump was desperate. Its last rooted tendril barely clutched on to the dirt. There were only seconds left to act, and my mentor and I were powerless against it.

“Don’t worry,” Habib plopped his shield down in front of us. “I can handle this.”

With a rip and a crash, the stump pelted our tank of a bodyguard straight on, but he did not budge. “Impenetrable Fortress” he shouted, causing a puff of green light to envelop his bulky steel shield. With a heave, he redirected the massive projectile off to the side, and out of harm's ways. It tumbled off into the distance, scouring the ground as it went.

“Don’t look now,” Shareem pointed, “but we’ve got bigger problems.”

“Shit.” An entire tree now clung for life in front of us. The massive oak was ancient and towering. Not even Habib would be able to deflect it. We would be crushed in an instant.

“By The Circle, Samirah! Didn’t you say that this valley is supposed to be cloaked in perpetual sunlight,” Shareem yelled.

“It is supposed to be!”

“We don’t have time for this,” Habib yelled as another piece of debris slammed into his shield, “find us a way out of here. Quickly!”

Without thinking, I called out one of my favorite spells. A spell that had gotten us out of many other sticky situations. “Pathfinder”.

“There are no caves in this valley,” Shareem rejected my decision, “the soil here is pure clay, there is no karst topography that could support a cave.”

[Path Found], a prompt appeared in my vision.

“Don’t speak so soon,” a sense of relief flooded through my veins, “there is apparently a cave 50 feet to our rear. Hurry, follow me.”

The red pathfinder markers appeared as splotches of red in my vision, somewhat resembling blood splatter. I did my best to follow them as wind and rain pelted me in the face. Habib stood at our flank, keeping the bigger debris off of me.

“There,” I pointed to a small opening in the ground. It was partially obscured by an overgrown thicket of briars, but it was definitely a cave. I was sure of it.

“That?” Shareem sneered, “that little dirt hole is a cave?”

“Just shut up and get down there,” Habib reared Shareem in the ass with his heavy steel boot, sending him cascading down the hole. “My mana is almost at 0, do you need a push also? I'll do it.”

Covering my rear end, I dove straight through the painful thorns and into the muddy clay hole without a second thought. The hole was tight, but big enough to fit a grown human. It smelled of earthworms, mildew, and mold and seemed to angle down at a 45-degree incline. “Watch out below,” I shouted as I felt the sides begin to widen.

Shareem failed to head my warning. “Watch it you foolish girl,” he scolded me as I plopped down in the mud, spraying him with a layer of muck.

“Get out of the way,” I said, rolling him to the side, just in time to save us both from being crushed. Not an instant later, a massive explosion of muddy filth splattered us in the face. Our tank had landed.

“Whoa, that was a close one,” I heard Habib say, “is everyone alright?”

“We need light,” I said, “I can’t see anything.”

“Orb of Light,” Habib’s voice echoed in the fetid air. From the palm of his hand, a round orb of pure energy emerged. The small speck of light grew quickly, casting its aura off the hard-packed earthen walls that surrounded us.

“Incredible,” Habib said as he wiped the mud from his face, “what is this place?”

Awed and shocked, I pulled myself to my feet. Though partially covered in lichen, what stood before us was an impossibility – a golden building, encrusted with sapphires and adorned with rubies, sitting perfectly upright in the middle of a hole.

“This is incredible,” Shareem scraped some slime from his eyeglasses before putting them back on. “From what I can see of it, we are looking at a discovery that may very well upend the classical record as we know it. Is that your assessment as well?”

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“Indeed,” I continued to stare in doe-eyed disbelief at what we had stumbled into. Though I was only an apprentice archaeologist, even my untrained eyes could tell that we were looking at something unbelievably special.

“What is this place, Habib said?”

“An impossibility,” Shareem said as he began to fight his way forward against the muck. “Girl,” he commanded me, “open up my satchel and check the chronicle for this valley, I want times and dates of every major event to have occurred here.”

“I’m on it,” I ripped open the hard leather pack that I had been carrying on my hip and pulled out the Silverwind Chronicle, the definitive guide to the history of House Silverwind and its holdings. As any good apprentice would have done, I had already bookmarked the page on the valley before we departed from the capital. Being careful not to get mud on the chronicle’s delicate hand-copied pages, I opened it, and began reading.

“The Summerset Valley is nestled between the Black Ridge Mountains to the north and west, and the Red River Hills to the south. Its unseasonably mild climate is perfect for growing a multitude of different fruiting flowers and grain crops. It is said that trees within the valley are as sturdy as iron.”

“Apparently not,” Habib said, as he plucked a piece of a branch from his helm, “apparently not.”

“Don’t interrupt her,” Shareem hissed, “this is important.”

Habib bit his lip and motioned me to continue. I could tell he wanted to smash Shareem in the head. I often felt the same way, but like him, I had to keep myself in check. If I was to ever become a full member of the academy, I had to stay on Shareem’s good side.

“In 820 AP, the lands of the valley were transferred to the mayor of Summerset Village by the Merchant’s Guild,” I continued, “who previously controlled the region since at least 400 AP. Prior to that, there is a report that the valley was part of the royal hunting grounds of Sultan Amir the Second and his son, Amir the Third, but that is only speculation. There are no reports of any special events or battles taking place in this valley before that period, and there are no records of prior ownership.”

Shareem scratched at his bald head while we walked at a snail’s pace towards the hulking structure. “Perhaps it's an early temple of The Circle,” he mused aloud, “or a private temple of some forgotten noble.”

“May I share an idea?” I asked.

“Fine, but it better not have anything to do with those damn red-headed devils that you love so much.”

“Hear me out,” I said, clutching my chest tightly. “What if it’s a Frostpyre temple?” Just saying the word Frostpyre gave me goosebumps. The thought was too exciting for words.

“Oh brother,” Shareem sighed.

“No seriously,” my pace began to pick up as thoughts flooded through my mind, “the Black Ridge Mountains were part of the Kingdom of Winter Tempest during the Decades of Death, were they not? What if Frostpyre territory actually extended into this valley, that would explain a lot, wouldn’t it?”

“And this is why nobody at the academy takes you seriously,” Shareem smacked his wrinkly forehead in disgust, shooting daggers at my idea. “You know as well as I do that everything from that twisted society of devils was wiped off the face of Tangeia 800 years ago, don’t you? We don’t even have pottery fragments left from that era, and you think that a massive temple like this would have been left untouched?”

“Well, it is buried in a hole,” Habib said.

“I pay you to guard us, not to talk,” Shareem spat at the ground.

This time Habib looked like he wanted to rip out Shareem’s entrails. I understood the sentiment.

“Enough nonsense,” my master said as we approached a gilded gold staircase, “its time to do some serious archaeological work. I will lead this expedition. Girl, you will take sketches and notes. Big oaf, you will provide us with protection – and keep your mouth shut. Understood?”

“Yes honored master,” we both responded in dejected unison.

“Excellent,” he said.

With our roles now defined, we began making our way up the staircase, fighting hard against the layers of mud that were caked to our clothes and bodies.

At the top of the golden staircase sat a large colonnade, featuring a muck filled pool, surrounded by two large sapphire encrusted altars on each side of it. Though the structures were impressive in their scale and durability, they was rather lacking in decoration. There were no etchings or markings to be seen, even on the large golden support columns.

“Fascinating,” Shareem ran his finger along the surface of one of the altars, “it is made of perfectly sculpted gold. The amount of capital that would have been required to create a structure like this is almost unthinkable.”

“I’m sketching it all down,” I reassured him.

“Good, get as much detail as you can,” he lectured me, “I am going to upend the academy with this discovery. These sketches are going to become a museum piece one day.”

“Hopefully I get some mention in of all this,” I worried aloud.

“A footnote,” he replied.

I bit my tongue at his response. I had to play it cool, no matter how insufferable he was. I was only 18 after all. I still had decades left to make a splash, for an old-timer like Shareem, time was fleeting. Soon, I would be the master, while he would be senile. The thought was like pure ecstasy.

“Bodyguard,” Shareem motioned for Habib to move forward, “push open the main door to this temple. We’re going inside.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea,” Habib asked.

“Ah ah ah,” Shareem wagged his finger in the air, “What did I say about talking?”

Habib channeled his anger into his muscular shoulder, smacking into the door and pushing it open with ease. If Shareem wasn’t careful, then his bodyguard might actually lose it. Habib sure seemed to be trending that direction.

“Go on you two, lead the way.”

Habib and I stepped into the ancient ruin, with our floating orb of light drifting between us. What was inside was remarkable, almost indescribable.

“It can’t be,” I gasped.

Before us was the grandest of sights, a massive circle edged by 5 thrones, each bearing its own unique design. One throne was made of polished glass, another of black volcanic obsidian, and a third of blemish-free pearl. Two more thrones made of silver and gold stared forward at a throne that was three times the size of the others, positioned on a swivel in the middle circle. My heart pounded anew at the sight of this grand chair, and what it was made of – pure, unadulterated, ice.

“Impossible,” Shareem nearly fell off his feet, “this is a near mock replica of The Circle of the 5 Houses, but what is that in the middle?”

Like a magnet, the throne pulled me towards it.

“Samirah! Girl, what are you doing? Get back here.” Shareem growled, but I ignored him.

The room came to life with bursts of color as I inched ever closer to the stately chair, step by step growing closer to the object that had haunted my dreams since I was a little girl. The throne chair of House Frostpyre. The ultimate proof that I was not crazy.

I reached my hand out to touch it, to feel it. I yearned to caress its chilly curves. I could tell that it yearned to be caressed. For too long it had sat vacant, and alone. With the Frostpyres’ destroyed, it had nobody. It had…

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