Thump.
Iliyan turned in his bed ignoring the sound.
Another thump resonated against his window, more insistent this time.
With a sight, he nestled deeper into the cocoon of his big, downy blanket, its comforting warmth a stark contrast to the chill that seemed to try and creep from the outside. He closed his eyes and tried to chase the sleep.
Another thump, forceful and demanding, accompanied by two rapid successors, pushed the dreamland further from Illyan.
Iliyan grabbed his pillow pressing it over his ears in a futile attempt to mute the symphony of interruptions.
For a moment the thumps subsided and Iliyan teetered on the edge of the dream world once more. But just before he could reach it a barrage of soft thumps came upon his window.
With a groan of frustration, he flung his pillow at the window. Leaving the sanctuary off the big white fluffy blanket he slowly rolled out of bed to see who was harassing him this early. He wobbled to the window, the cold wooden floorboards creaked under his weight. Before he could take a look outside another snowball flew into the window startling him completely awake.
Bracing himself, he thrust the window open, the brisk morning air rushing to fill his lungs, He poked his head out of the window and saw four heads with large grins and even larger ushankas, their fur wrapping around their necks. Three of his friends standing shoulder to shoulder, a united front of mischief, and his younger brother one head smaller than the rest standing with the widest grin. All four of them gestured for Iliyan to come down.
Iliyan could only muster a thumbs up and walked back towards the bed. He checked the pipes that ran from the main furnace in the living room below, they were ice cold, but for some reason, he didn’t feel cold, he felt just perfect.
Weird. He thought to himself, he usually felt cold to his bones in the morning. Shrugging off the anomaly, he reached for his glasses on the nightstand, a familiar routine providing some sense of normalcy this morning.
But as he perched the glasses on his nose, his world blurred. Startled, Illyan removed them, only to find his vision clear completely. He repeated the process several more times for the same result, vision was much better and cleared without the lenses. It puzzled Illyan, but he quickly decided to forgo the glasses and left them back on the nightstand as he proceeded to dress.
He quickly put on a sturdy set of his warmest clothing and hopped into his fur boots. He secured his heavy coat with a large belt, the fabric whispering against his movements. With one last glance towards the nightstand and his glasses, Illyan left the room and quickly went downstairs to meet with his friends.
There were remnants of the breakfast on the table, his brother ate and made a mess. Their mother was working in the early mornings so she probably ate outside on the way to work. Once outside, he was blinded by the canvas of white that the world had turned into. The street was blanketed heavily with snow that had been falling relentlessly through the night. Each step crunched satisfyingly beneath his boots, the snow yielding to his weight. His air materialized in the air, a dance of mist swirling before disappearing into the cold morning.
Across the street from his house, stood his friends and his younger brother. Their breaths, too, formed clouds of vapor in the cold air, their laughter and chatter adding warmth to the frosty scene. His brother beamed at him, his excitement barely contained as he spoke, “Did my snowball wake you up?” He somehow made his grin wider beneath the oversized ushanka.
“Of course,” Illyan said, returning a warm smile to his younger brother. “I am guessing these three didn’t even manage to hit the window.” Illyan teased his friends.
“Are you ready for today?” Vasilin said, his piercing blue eyes blending with the white background.
“Yep,” Illyan nodded. “We start exploring the big cave today finally. I packed torches, food, water, and everything I could think of.” He said pointing towards his large backpack. “Hope you did the same?”
His friends nodded, showing their large backpacks that were full to the brim.
“Can I please go with you today?” His brother asked. “Pretty, please?” He pleaded.
“No Arana,” Illyan said in a calm tone. “I need you to stay behind and hold the fort and keep our mom safe.”
“You always say that,” Arana said frustratingly. “I want to go and explore with you like you went with that when you were my age.”
“I promise I will take you with us as soon as we are done with this cave, and I will teach you everything our father taught me,” Illyan said.
“Promise?”
“I promise,” Illyan said looking at his younger brother, who resembled their father a lot with his facial features.
His brother nodded, hugged him, and shook hands with the rest of the crew before he left for the house.
“Remember, don’t tell mom we went to the caves,” Illyan said. “If she asks I am spending the night at ss.” His brother flashed the thumbs up with his oversized gloves on before he slammed the door of the house from the inside.
“You guys ready?” Illyan asked his friends.
“Ready as we will ever be,” Vassilin said. “Let’s go.”
The squad set off, walking one behind the other on the snowy street, each of the members looking for a boot print of the one in front of them. The city of Svordonsk, nestled beneath the formidable Yarkon peaks of the Altral mountains, was a spectacle of white, its buildings covered in almost perpetual frost. The streets were unusually quiet this morning, only a few resilient souls were outside shoveling the snow in front of their shops. The crew greeted everyone they stumbled upon and was rewarded with a barrage of warm smiles and good mornings.
Svordonsk was a city accustomed to solitude, its beauty vailed in an eternal winter. Snow was an emperor in this region, and it reigned for eleven out of the thirteen months a year, draping the city in a pristine white cloak. The isolation from the world was not due to the inhospitality of its citizens towards the guests, quite the contrary the Svordonsk people were warm and welcoming, but due to its treacherous road and paths leading towards the Peaks and the city itself. The icy roads deterred most people from even attempting to reach the Peaks.
The cities around the Peaks saw life stir within its walls primarily when the trading caravans from the Isari Empire made their biannual visit. They came when the snow yielded, however briefly, it was enough for the outside world to reach their cities, trade, exchange stories, and mingle for a few weeks before the skies reclaimed their frosty dominion.
Though the Svordonsk and neighboring towns and villages around the Peaks were officially part of the Isari Empire for centuries, they thought of themselves as independent. Their customs and religion isolated from the rest of the empire were completely preserved. Isari didn’t try to rule over them, so that’s why the people of Peaks never tried to officially leave the empire and often sent aid in times of war and guarded the back of the empire to the north and east, no one would be able to strike at Isari from those sides.
As Illyan and friends trudged through the snow-laden streets reaching the outskirts of Svordonsk, the silent majesty of Yarkon peaks loomed over them, a constant towering presence. The peeks were never fully mapped or explored, their icy coat hiding many mysteries.
Illyan father was one of the explorers who knew the peaks like the back of his hand. He brought Illyan to many expeditions where they looked for uncharted lakes that held the rich fish and mineral supplies. His father's reputation as a seasoned guide was well-known and he was often sought after by outsiders who dared to venture into the peaks' embrace.
Nearly five years ago, Illyan's father accepted an assignment to lead a weird band of Troioran, Maxran, and Oznoag nobles and their entourage into the labyrinth of ice caves near the top of the peaks. Illiyan remembered like it was yesterday, seeing his father out on the expedition, his reassuring smile, the warmth of his hug on a chilly morning, and his lingering wave of farewell.
However, that morning, was the last time he would see his father as their adventure bore a grim fate. His father, along with the entourage vanished into the heart of the mountain. No trace, no tale returned from that expedition, leaving the void in Illyan’s hearth.
Hunted by the unresolved mystery of his father’s disappearance, Illyan felt a pull towards the peaks. Now standing on the outskirts of Svordonsk, his heart pounding hard, half from fear half from excitement, he was ready to take on the icy caves and hopefully reveal the truth of what happened to his father’s expedition.
Illyan and his friends made their gradual ascent towards the Yarkon peaks, following one of the secluded paths his father took him on early in their expedition days. It was a hard path, but once you walked through it more than twice, you became familiar with each crevice and slippery slope.
After a hard day of non-stop climbing and only short pauses the crew eventually made a cast clearing, a serene valley nestled between the looming peaks. Here, two large lakes lay like a twin mirror, reflecting the stark beauty of the mountains. The lakes teemed with life, numerous local fisherman from Svordonsk and other neighboring towns and villages dotted the icy surface tending to their lines and nets as they harvested the bounty these hidden waters offered.
The crew made camp here to spend the night before the final ascent towards one of the entrances into the hidden caves tomorrow. The night passed peacefully, Illyan was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to catch sleep due to sheer excitement he fell, but the hard climbing they’d done for the whole day took its toll and the sleep couldn’t escape him that night. Before they left for the caves, Vassilin had bought four large pikes from one of the fishermen and put them on a makeshift wooden skewer.
“A feast before we leave,” Vassilin said with a smile, and the crew welcomed the gifts he bore.
“Any fear?” Kormon asked, his cheeks red from the constant wind in the valley.
“Nope,” Resonated all three of them.
“Excitement is prevailing I would say,” Illyan added and the rest of them nodded. “Let’s finish this up quickly and continue so we can reach the entrance before nightfall.”
After breakfast they continued, the terrain grew steeper, the air thinner, yet this time Illyan felt no fatigue as his resolve didn’t waver for one second. And just a few hours before the sunset, they finally reached it, and opening into the heart of the mountain itself, an blue icy gate that almost shone under the sun.
“Here we are,” Illyan gasped his voice a blend of exhaustion and exhilaration. "Last chance to turn back if there are any doubts."
"Not a chance," Vassilin retorted playfully. "You won't be claiming all the glory and mystery for yourself!"
With a shared nod they stepped into the cave, the entrance swallowing them whole. The walls of the cave were smooth, made from the blue ice that seemed to glow ethereally in the dim light their torches provided. As they slowly ventured deeper into the cave, all four of them lit their torches, and the first mystery of the caves appeared a series of strange symbols etched into the icy walls. Illyan drew the symbols into his notebook as best as he could before continuing with their journey.
They marked their path, keen to preserve a trail back to the entrance, but the labyrinthine expanse of the cave was daunting. The passageways twisted and turned, a maze of frozen beauty was slowly enveloping them and it was hardened and hardened to keep track of where they went. Vassilin was on map duty, he tried to chart each step they took and his drawing was getting too small for the parchment he brought with him.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“This is, this is remarkable.” Illyan finally let the awe escape his thoughts.
“Yeah, but it’s also kind of scary,” Kormon added.
“You scared?” Vassilin teased him.
“Nope, just wondering who made those symbols.”
“Was wondering the same things,” Illyan said as he reached another crossroad. “Let me look at the map you were making.
Vassilin provided the parchment paper and they gathered around him. Nikosar used his torch to make the map more visible and they slowly analyzed it.
“It would seem that we going into the center of it,” Illyan said tracing the lines.
“Yeah,” Vassilin nodded. “We are moving slightly east but I don’t think there is a straight way into the center.” Vasilin was moving his fingers to through the theoretical center in a straight line. “Maybe if we took this left here, it would have taken us a little closer to the center.” He said pointing to one of the crossroads.
“It is what it is now,” Illyan said. “Let’s just continue moving and we will take a few left turns now to try and straighten our path.”
The crew nodded and they continued onwards. Illyan took charge and moved forward taking a left turn each now split of the cave system they ran into. He gazed back each time to look at Vassilin if they were making progress, his friend returning a thumb up before sketching the new path into the parchment paper, a map of the callosal ice cave system.
“Did you guys hear that?” Nikosar asked the crew turning in all directions. “I have a feeling someone or something is following us.”
“Not your paranoia again,” Kormon sounded frustrated moving just behind Illyan. “Thought you were over it.”
“It’s not paranoia man,” Nikosar insisted, his voice tinged with unease. "I know what I heard."
The crew paused, their breaths hanging in the frigid air, as they listened intently. The cave was eerily silent, the only sound the distant drop of melting ice. The stillness was unsettling, ever since they entered they didn’t let themselves be engulfed by the silence, but this moment, this moment sent shivers down Illyan’s spine.
Suddenly, as they were about to continue, a series of soft, yet distinctly inhumane sounds echoed through the cavern. “There, that sound,” Nikosar said. “Can you hear it too?”
“Yes,” Illyan nodded. “Shut up, let us hear.”
It was a low, guttural moan, rising and falling like the wind whispering through the icy corridors. The sound seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.
“What the hell is that,” Kormon asked, visibly scared.
“No idea,” Illyan said. “Let’s continue, it’s probably wind or something, we came too far to give up now.”
“I don’t know brother,” Vassilin chimed in. “That doesn’t sound good.”
As Illyan was about to gesture them to follow him, the unmistakable sound of claws scratching against the ice pierced the silence. The sound was methodical, deliberate-like a predator stalking its prey, its movement and rhythm calculated and precise to inspire fear in its prey.
The crew huddled closer, their four torches casting long, flickering shadows against the walls, painting a scene that seemed to belong more in a nightmare than reality.
"I knew it," Nikosar whispered, his voice barely audible. "We are about to die here."
"We need to stay calm," Illyan instructed, trying to mask the tremor in his voice. "Whatever it is, we can't let fear dictate our actions."
Vassilin nodded, his hand gripping the self-made parchment map a little tighter. "We stick together, no matter what.”
Then all of a sudden, a loud inhumane screech echoes from all sides. Illyan covered his ears but the sound was too loud, he felt dizzy, and nauseated and fear started slowly to take over him. His friends looked at him, looking for answers in his eyes, but his face gave up more than they bargained, he was afraid, and the fear took over.
“Let’s move back slowly,” He whispered to the crew, gesturing for Vassilin to take over from the other side.
Before they took a step in the other direction another screech filled the labyrinth and their ears. All four of them stopped dead in their tracks as from both sides shadows appeared and danced across the icy walls, followed by the scraping sound of claws on ice.
“What the hell are those?” Nikosar asked unable to break the gaze from the shadow that was coming in the direction they came from.
“Let’s move,” Illyan said as he was the first that was able to break free from the paralyzing that overtook them.
“Where to?” Vassilin asked. “They are coming from both sides.”
“There was another turn on this side, come quickly,” Illyan said and started walking back toward the center of the caves.
The crew hastened their steps, following Illyan swiftly toward the turn he had indicated. The icy walls around them seemed to close in on them. As they approached the turn, the inhumane screeches and the scraping of claws grew louder, more insistent, as if whatever was lurking in the shadows knew their every move.
They reached the turn and quickly took it, there were no shadows in the arm of the icy caves, but the screeching and scraping didn’t die out, it followed them, and it was all around them. Catching their breaths, the crew pressed their backs against the cold, hard ice-a mixture of fear and uncertainty mixed on their faces.
“What do we do, any ideas?” Illyan whispered, his voice steady trying to escape the terror that gripped his heart.”
“I think we,” Vassilin answered fiddling with the map. “Take the next-”
Before Vassilin could finish his sentence, the loudest screech so far cut him off. Straight ahead of them as the cave corridor was naturally twisting a shadow grew larger and larger, followed by scraping of the ice. The shadow loomed like a specter emerging from the abyss. Its form is grotesque, yet somehow still human. The scraping of claws on ice grew into a relentless rhythm, a sinister symphony that reverberated off the cave walls.
Illyan’s mind raced, every instinct in him screamed to flee, but there was no clear path as behind them the same scene happened, they were trapped. He locked eyes with his friend, seeing his own fear mirrored back at him. Without any more hesitation, he reached into his large backpack and grabbed a hatchet ready to fight whatever was stalking them.
And then a second later, nothing could prepare him for the sight that appeared in front of him. A creature appeared, slightly taller than an average human, but its hands were unnaturally long, ending in large claws that were scraping against the floor of the icy cave, not the walls as he expected.
The creature looked humanoid, but its skin was pale blue, with dark lines following its bony structure. Its hair was long and white with a hue of light blue. Its eyes were completely white, with no irises, nothing, just pure whiteness, it was eerie just looking at them. The creature opened its large mouth and a now haunting screech escaped it as the mouth opened unnaturally wide.
Spectre [https://i.ibb.co/GWGY9cc/DALL-E-2024-01-24-08-51-56-An-eerie-humanoid-specter-in-an-icy-cave-with-long-unnaturally-elongated.png]
The creature looked eyes with Illyan and charged him. Illyan braced himself, gripping his hatchet tightly. He managed to turn for a brief moment to look at his friends. Kormon, was right behind him, almost hiding behind his back, while Vassilin and Nikosar readied themselves from the same threat that was coming from their side of the cave. Both of them were clutching their torches, wielding them like a fiery sword.
The creature moved with a supernatural speed, but its movements were also strangely mesmerizing and graceful, like a dance of death itself. As it neared, Illyan could see the intricate patterns on its icy blue skin, like the surface of the cave itself had come alive.
Illyan swung the hatched with all his might as the creature lunged at him. The clash echoed through the cave, a metallic ring against a chilling hiss. The creature recoiled from the blow, but it was clear that the hatchet made no mark on its thick, icy skin.
Quickly glancing back, the torch Vassilin and Nikosar were wielding seemed to have no effect on the creature attacking them. The creature swung its large claw at Vassilin, he managed to duck its swipe but Nikosar didn’t react in time and the creature’s claws got him all through the torso throwing him against the chilly wall. Nikosar’s body slid down the wall leaving a chilling streak of red against the blue ice. The sight filled Illyan's surge of horror and fury.
“Nikosar!” Illyan cried out, his voice echoing through the cavern. The reality of the nightmare they found themselves crashed down on him like an avalanche. It was no longer a quest for answers, but a fight for survival.
Kormon, still visibly shaken, found his courage in the face of their friend’s injury and rushed to Nikosar’s side. While trying to assess the damage the creature snuck past Vassilin and struck Kormon from behind. His lifeless body fell right beside the friend he was trying to help just a moment ago.
Illyan yelled out of rage, frustration, and fear a charged the creature that hurt his friends, leaving the one that was attacking him behind. He jumped at it, his hatch swung behind his back and struck the creature at the back of its head while it loomed over his friends. A metallic clank on ice skin echoed through the cave.
The creature turned, seemingly unscathed. Illyan looked at his hand that held the hatchet only to find its wooden handle, the hatchet broke in half. Vassilin joined Illyan by his side as both creatures slowly closed in on them, their large mouths curving into demonic grins.
“What do we do?” Vassilin asked, his eyes darting between the advancing creatures.
Before Illyan could answer he felt a surge of power mixed with rage and despair run through him. Somehow he knew what to do, as someone took control of his body. He stepped in front of Vassilin and spread his arms to both sides in the direction from where the creatures were coming and within seconds, the surge of power somehow was directed towards his hands.
He felt a warmth cruising around his hands, as the air around him was getting hotter and hotter. Illyan closed his eyes and concentrated letting his body completely into the arms of whatever force was driving him. He felt a connection to something far greater than himself, an ancient force that seemed to acknowledge his desperation.
The air around his hands started to flicker and crackle, he opened his eyes, and to his amazement, he saw flames dancing around his outstretched palm, their light casting dancing shadows against the icy walls. The creatures hesitated for a moment at the sight of growing flames around Illyan.
The flames grew brighter and more intense as if they were fed by his emotions and with a guttural scream led by the unknown force Illyan immediately thrust his hands forward and unleashed a torrent of fire towards the creatures. The flames surged with a life of their own, a roaring inferno that raced across the icy caves.
The creatures stumbled back, their haunting screeches drowned out by the roar of the flames. The heat was immense, turning parts of the icy walls into steam, and filling the cave with a mist.
Once the flames stopped, Illyan was only left with a ponding hearth in his chest, he looked for the creatures in both directions. They were not dead, wounded yes, but still alive and they looked more enraged, their twisting demonic smiles gone.
“Let’s run,” Illyan said to Vassilin snapping his friend out of the frenzy.
“What about them,” Vassilin pointed to their fallen comrades.
“They are gone,” Illyan said. “Let’s survive first, then we will get back for their bodies and pay the respects they deserve.
Vassilin nodded and followed Illyan past one of the creatures that were still dizzy from the blazing inferno moments ago. As they ran past the creature, it tried to grab onto them with its large claws, but it was still drowsy from Illyan’s attack and its claws moved too slowly.
They ran into the cave system, not really following any path, just trying to put distance between themselves and the creatures. Not even a minute later screeches and scratching resumed behind them. Illyan was sure more creatures were chasing them this time and they were not talking slowly and stalking them anymore, he was sure they were running after them.
The shadows were catching up to them from behind, and after one sharp turn of the icy tunnel, another creature stood in front of them at the crossroads, staring and growling at them, its hands with large claws outstretched at the sides from one wall to another.
“Shit,” Illyan exclaimed. “We are trapped again.”
“Do the thing again,” Vassilin pleaded. “Light them on fire.”
“I can’t,” Illyan responded his voice tinged with exhaustion. “I don’t know how I did it the first time. It just… happened.”
The creature in front of them moved closer, its every step resonating through the icy corridors. They turned back, but their path was already blocked, not by one but three creatures from behind.
Illiyan and Vassilin stood back to back their impending doom imminent as they got ready for the last stand, when all of a sudden voice echoed in front of them.
“Die you bastard,” A female voice yelled and the creature in front of them turned.
Before it could see what was attacking it, a slashing sound echoed through the icy caverns and the creature let out a screech of pain as its clawed hand fell to the icy floor. A young girl, their age, appeared between them and the creature and stood in a battle-ready stance. She wore loose clothing, something that completely stood out in the peaks and the icy caves. Her clothing moved like liquid with her every swift turn and lunge as she continued to attack the creature. A bandana covered her mouth, only her ember eyes were visible and they spoke of resolve and determination.
She was wielding a thin, curved sword in her hand and it seemed more like an extension of her will than a weapon. Illyan had never seen anyone move with such speed, grace, and agility and their weapon following them in a fluid motion.
Evie entranced [https://i.ibb.co/BNngwxQ/DALL-E-2024-01-24-09-01-10-Create-an-intense-fantasy-battle-scene-in-an-icy-cave-featuring-Evie-and.png]
All of a sudden an old man, his hair tied in a graying bun, appeared. They moved in perfect harmony as they slashed at the creature who tried to attack them with its remaining claw. Then all of a sudden the old man started moving faster and slashed at the creature's legs. As the creature fell to its knees the young girl lounged at it, slashing her sword at its neck. The creature’s head rolled from its shoulders and fell to the blue icy floor, a bluish blood gushing from its neck. The girl turned to Illyan and Vassilin, her eyes burning with an unspoken urgency.
“Follow us, quickly!” she commanded, her voice muffled behind the bandana but ringing with authority. “There is no time to waste, more of them are coming!”
Without a second thought, Illyan and Vassilin, still in shock but driven by the instinct to survive started following the enigmatic duo as they navigated through the winding paths of the icy cave. After countless turns, they reached an opening in the cave, a large icy room, and at the bottom of the room, there was a sight Illyan couldn’t comprehend at first. A shimmering flowing light that danced like flames, this object was higher than him, and looking at the middle of, it was like looking at the mirror. But it was no mirror, it was an image, an image of a room on the other side of this object. The image shimmered, it wasn’t clear, but Illyan was sure he could see through the object into another place.
“What,” Illyan stuttered. “What is that, who are you?” He managed to blur out.
“No time to explain,” The girl said. “I am Evie, this is Bayolar,” She said pointing at the old man who bowed slightly. “If you want to live, you need to follow us through that portal.”
“Portal?” Vassilin asked in a confused tone.
“We just barely survived,” Illyan said. “I shoot flames out of my hands, we need some explanation before we continue, what the hell is going on?”
“We will explain, just please follow us, or you will die if you stay here,” The girl said lowering her bandana to her neck, showing her lush lips and red cheeks as the mist formed around her nose.
“But-” Before Illyan could protest a deafening roar echoed through the chamber and the walls shook he barely stayed on his feet.
“If you think ice specters were bad, you don’t want to wait for that,” Evie said bulling her bandana up and walking towards the portal.
Illyan and Vassilin looked at each other, shrugged, and followed the girl as another roar echoed through the chamber and shook the walls.