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You can also read this story on our website;
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Art and Desgin by
Agent-Cheshire

Chapter 4: Ice Ice Baby
    Safely inside covered sleighs the royal procession glided across the snowy tundra on their way to the Winter Reflection celebration being held in the port town of Frostpike. Though this time the gods had indeed been given their own sleigh separate from the royal siblings. Rhen was lost in thought, reflecting on what Ardjinn had told them about what he experienced in the rift at the last festival.

    “There’s no way to tell which way is up or down.” Ardjinn had said. “And this time I was underwater caught in a current, so that made it even more difficult.” He had seemed to realize he was mostly just complaining then quickly added. “What I’m saying is anyone else probably would have drowned.” Of course it had to circle back to boasting somehow. Though to be fair he was probably right.

    Still, what was on the other side of these rifts? And why was it trying to take Spectrels?
    "Think anything new and exciting will come out of the rifts this time?" Rhynne spoke, almost as if she knew what he was thinking.
    "I don't know," Rhen replied. "Whatever's on the other side clearly doesn't like Ardjinn though."
    “Well, he does seem like the biggest threat to it.”
    “I guess that’s true.”

    While they still held concerns over what may happen at this celebration after the last three, there was a certain comfort in knowing what to expect. Not only that but all four gods would now be here in the Hollow. So surely they could handle whatever came about this time around.

    Eventually the town came into view in the distance. Upon exiting their sleighs they were promptly greeted by the event coordinators, a large lynx and small snowy owl.
    “We’re so glad you could make it! I hope your journey wasn’t too rough.” The owl spoke first.
    “Not at all,” Rhynne assured her with a smile.
    “Was better than having to walk through this frozen hellscape, I’ll say that much.” Ardjinn grumbled as he pushed some snow out of the way with his foot. Not that it really did him much good, melting the instant he made contact with it, steam rising off his boot.
Yūrein stepped out of their sleigh after him, followed by Faeveil.
    “Oh it’s not that bad,” Yūrein chided, standing next to Ardjinn.
    “Yeah? Stop using me as a heat source then.”
    “No.”
Even Faeveil, despite having winter clothes like the others in addition to his fur, was still fluffed up to stay warm.
    “What about you, big guy?” Ardjinn looked up at Faeveil. “You a fan of this weather?”
Faeveil simply huffed in response and stood on the other side of Ardjinn.
    “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

    The coordinators exchanged glances with each other as the gods bickered.
    “Yeah, they’re just like that.” Rhen said quietly to the coordinators.
    “Right, well, anyway!” The owl turned to lead them through the town with her partner. “Most of the events are held inside,” she continued. “But the ice sculptures this year are simply fantastic!”

    They passed by expertly crafted ice sculptures as they continued on their way, each beautifully intricate and impressive in size. Many had lights underneath and even inside them, the glow of which was distorted by every curve and edge of the ice and gave them a surreal sense of depth. At the center of the town was one massive ice sculpture shaped in Wraithyr’s image.

    “Stunning work, the depiction is incredibly spot on.” Yūrein stared up at the sculpture.
    “Well, the artist was lucky enough to actually have Wraithyr here to reference.” The lynx finally spoke.
    “Wait, Wraithyr is already here?” Rhyne looked incredulously at the coordinators.
    “She’s been here for almost a week now. We didn’t expect her to arrive so early either.” The small owl piped up.
    “We can take you to see her if you’d like, since, well…” The lynx gestured to the three gods accompanying them.
    “I’d love to see her, it’s been centuries since we’ve spoken.” Yūrein smiled at the coordinators.
    “Pass.” Ardjinn said flatly before being elbowed by Faeveil. “Eugh, fine, sure.” He threw all four of his hands up in the air as he followed the coordinators with the others.

    They were brought to the edge of town on the opposite side from where they arrived. Several piles of splintered wood sat near the lone building that overlooked some kind of training ground. Down below was a tall dragon wielding an axe, throwing it at the wooden targets that had been set up around her. As the axe made contact with one of the targets it wasn’t hard to put together where the piles came from.

    “You made it,” Wraithyr said, without so much as a glance in their direction as they approached, keeping her focus trained on her target as she readied another axe.
    “We’re a bit surprised you got here before us.” Yūrein smiled softly as she spoke.
    “We all know what’s coming.” Wraithyr replied. “I saw no need to wait for a dramatic entrance.”
    “Well you’re taking this awfully seriously. How out of character for you.” Ardjinn’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
    “One of us has to.” Wraithyr threw her axe and sent it sailing through the air almost too fast to track before it embedded itself deep into the thick wood of the target. Frost crept out of the edges of the gash before the axe dissipated and reappeared in her hand. Finally she turned her attention to the group, looking down at them with a steely gaze.

    “You two have your duties to attend to,” Wraithyr said when her eyes came to rest on the two royals. “Go, get out of the cold and enjoy the festivities.”
Rhen and Rhynne couldn’t help but tense slightly when Wraithyr’s gaze fell on them. They both nodded in unison.
    “Yes, of course.” Rhynne said before she and her brother gave a small bow and turned to head back with the coordinators.

    “I don’t think I’ve seen her go inside once this whole time.” The small owl leaned in to mutter to the siblings as they left the training grounds. “I’m not sure she’s even slept at all either, come to think of it.”
    “Do the gods even need to sleep?” The lynx’s question was directed towards the two royals as if they would know from their interactions with the other three gods.
    “They…” Rhynne paused. “I don’t actually know.”
    “We haven’t really seen them sleep, but we’re also not with them constantly either.” Rhen said with a shrug. “They must at least rest sometimes though, right?”
Neither the siblings nor coordinators were too sure.

    The atmosphere inside the town hall was in complete opposition to the freezing snowscape outside. Festive decorations lined the walls and hung from the ceiling while a fire crackled inside a large stone hearth towards the back of the building. Spectrels were gathered together in groups sharing stories and singing songs. All the gods, with the exception of Wraithyr, were inside as well to partake in the festivities. It all felt so cozy it was hard not to share in the joy. Though perhaps that didn’t necessarily extend to Ardjinn, who sat off to the side away from most of the other Spectrels. And anything particularly flammable.

    “Sooo… Is there a reason you’re all the way over here sulking?” Rhynne sat down next to Ardjinn. She propped her elbow up on her leg before resting her chin in her hand while Rhen took a seat on the opposite side. After having spent some time together, the siblings had gotten a bit bolder with how they spoke to the gods.
    “Oh, you know, just trying not to burn the whole building down.” Ardjinn said, clearly irritated.
    “Can’t you just… tone down the heat?” Rhen asked.
Ardjinn’s many eyes all looked down at Rhen and he shrank away slightly.
    “..... I… No? I mean… kind of? It’s…” Ardjinn sighed. “Look, it’s not as simple as you’d think, alright?”
    “He’s just always hot-headed,“ Yūrein teased, gesturing to the flame atop Ardjinn’s head.
    “I could fetch a bucket of water.” Faeveil offered casually, but his wagging tail gave away that this was a joke.
    “Hah hah,” Ardjinn seemed less than amused. “Anything else?”
    “Well… I do have a burning question.” Yūrein looked over at Faeveil.
    “Fire away.” Faeveil replied.
    “What do you call a jacket that’s on fire?”
    “What?”
    “A blazer.”
    “These are terrible.” Ardjinn said flatly, crossing his arms. “You’re both terrible.”
    “Come on, don’t get too heated.”
    “We’re not trying to roast you.”
    “Yeah, we’re just trying to spark a conversation.”
    “You two are seriously making my blood boil…” Ardjinn paused, the realization hit him as the others all burst out laughing. “I can’t believe-” He dragged a hand down his face in exasperation, but started laughing as well.
    “Feel better?” Yūrein smiled at Ardjinn.
    “Eh, sure,” Ardjinn shrugged. “Just stop with the puns.”
    “I can’t promise that.”

Chapter 5: 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.

Description
You can also read this story on our website;
sites.google.com/view/spectrel…

Art and Desgin by
Agent-Cheshire

Chapter 4: Ice Ice Baby
    Safely inside covered sleighs the royal procession glided across the snowy tundra on their way to the Winter Reflection celebration being held in the port town of Frostpike. Though this time the gods had indeed been given their own sleigh separate from the royal siblings. Rhen was lost in thought, reflecting on what Ardjinn had told them about what he experienced in the rift at the last festival.

    “There’s no way to tell which way is up or down.” Ardjinn had said. “And this time I was underwater caught in a current, so that made it even more difficult.” He had seemed to realize he was mostly just complaining then quickly added. “What I’m saying is anyone else probably would have drowned.” Of course it had to circle back to boasting somehow. Though to be fair he was probably right.

    Still, what was on the other side of these rifts? And why was it trying to take Spectrels?
    "Think anything new and exciting will come out of the rifts this time?" Rhynne spoke, almost as if she knew what he was thinking.
    "I don't know," Rhen replied. "Whatever's on the other side clearly doesn't like Ardjinn though."
    “Well, he does seem like the biggest threat to it.”
    “I guess that’s true.”

    While they still held concerns over what may happen at this celebration after the last three, there was a certain comfort in knowing what to expect. Not only that but all four gods would now be here in the Hollow. So surely they could handle whatever came about this time around.

    Eventually the town came into view in the distance. Upon exiting their sleighs they were promptly greeted by the event coordinators, a large lynx and small snowy owl.
    “We’re so glad you could make it! I hope your journey wasn’t too rough.” The owl spoke first.
    “Not at all,” Rhynne assured her with a smile.
    “Was better than having to walk through this frozen hellscape, I’ll say that much.” Ardjinn grumbled as he pushed some snow out of the way with his foot. Not that it really did him much good, melting the instant he made contact with it, steam rising off his boot.
Yūrein stepped out of their sleigh after him, followed by Faeveil.
    “Oh it’s not that bad,” Yūrein chided, standing next to Ardjinn.
    “Yeah? Stop using me as a heat source then.”
    “No.”
Even Faeveil, despite having winter clothes like the others in addition to his fur, was still fluffed up to stay warm.
    “What about you, big guy?” Ardjinn looked up at Faeveil. “You a fan of this weather?”
Faeveil simply huffed in response and stood on the other side of Ardjinn.
    “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

    The coordinators exchanged glances with each other as the gods bickered.
    “Yeah, they’re just like that.” Rhen said quietly to the coordinators.
    “Right, well, anyway!” The owl turned to lead them through the town with her partner. “Most of the events are held inside,” she continued. “But the ice sculptures this year are simply fantastic!”

    They passed by expertly crafted ice sculptures as they continued on their way, each beautifully intricate and impressive in size. Many had lights underneath and even inside them, the glow of which was distorted by every curve and edge of the ice and gave them a surreal sense of depth. At the center of the town was one massive ice sculpture shaped in Wraithyr’s image.

    “Stunning work, the depiction is incredibly spot on.” Yūrein stared up at the sculpture.
    “Well, the artist was lucky enough to actually have Wraithyr here to reference.” The lynx finally spoke.
    “Wait, Wraithyr is already here?” Rhyne looked incredulously at the coordinators.
    “She’s been here for almost a week now. We didn’t expect her to arrive so early either.” The small owl piped up.
    “We can take you to see her if you’d like, since, well…” The lynx gestured to the three gods accompanying them.
    “I’d love to see her, it’s been centuries since we’ve spoken.” Yūrein smiled at the coordinators.
    “Pass.” Ardjinn said flatly before being elbowed by Faeveil. “Eugh, fine, sure.” He threw all four of his hands up in the air as he followed the coordinators with the others.

    They were brought to the edge of town on the opposite side from where they arrived. Several piles of splintered wood sat near the lone building that overlooked some kind of training ground. Down below was a tall dragon wielding an axe, throwing it at the wooden targets that had been set up around her. As the axe made contact with one of the targets it wasn’t hard to put together where the piles came from.

    “You made it,” Wraithyr said, without so much as a glance in their direction as they approached, keeping her focus trained on her target as she readied another axe.
    “We’re a bit surprised you got here before us.” Yūrein smiled softly as she spoke.
    “We all know what’s coming.” Wraithyr replied. “I saw no need to wait for a dramatic entrance.”
    “Well you’re taking this awfully seriously. How out of character for you.” Ardjinn’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
    “One of us has to.” Wraithyr threw her axe and sent it sailing through the air almost too fast to track before it embedded itself deep into the thick wood of the target. Frost crept out of the edges of the gash before the axe dissipated and reappeared in her hand. Finally she turned her attention to the group, looking down at them with a steely gaze.

    “You two have your duties to attend to,” Wraithyr said when her eyes came to rest on the two royals. “Go, get out of the cold and enjoy the festivities.”
Rhen and Rhynne couldn’t help but tense slightly when Wraithyr’s gaze fell on them. They both nodded in unison.
    “Yes, of course.” Rhynne said before she and her brother gave a small bow and turned to head back with the coordinators.

    “I don’t think I’ve seen her go inside once this whole time.” The small owl leaned in to mutter to the siblings as they left the training grounds. “I’m not sure she’s even slept at all either, come to think of it.”
    “Do the gods even need to sleep?” The lynx’s question was directed towards the two royals as if they would know from their interactions with the other three gods.
    “They…” Rhynne paused. “I don’t actually know.”
    “We haven’t really seen them sleep, but we’re also not with them constantly either.” Rhen said with a shrug. “They must at least rest sometimes though, right?”
Neither the siblings nor coordinators were too sure.

    The atmosphere inside the town hall was in complete opposition to the freezing snowscape outside. Festive decorations lined the walls and hung from the ceiling while a fire crackled inside a large stone hearth towards the back of the building. Spectrels were gathered together in groups sharing stories and singing songs. All the gods, with the exception of Wraithyr, were inside as well to partake in the festivities. It all felt so cozy it was hard not to share in the joy. Though perhaps that didn’t necessarily extend to Ardjinn, who sat off to the side away from most of the other Spectrels. And anything particularly flammable.

    “Sooo… Is there a reason you’re all the way over here sulking?” Rhynne sat down next to Ardjinn. She propped her elbow up on her leg before resting her chin in her hand while Rhen took a seat on the opposite side. After having spent some time together, the siblings had gotten a bit bolder with how they spoke to the gods.
    “Oh, you know, just trying not to burn the whole building down.” Ardjinn said, clearly irritated.
    “Can’t you just… tone down the heat?” Rhen asked.
Ardjinn’s many eyes all looked down at Rhen and he shrank away slightly.
    “..... I… No? I mean… kind of? It’s…” Ardjinn sighed. “Look, it’s not as simple as you’d think, alright?”
    “He’s just always hot-headed,“ Yūrein teased, gesturing to the flame atop Ardjinn’s head.
    “I could fetch a bucket of water.” Faeveil offered casually, but his wagging tail gave away that this was a joke.
    “Hah hah,” Ardjinn seemed less than amused. “Anything else?”
    “Well… I do have a burning question.” Yūrein looked over at Faeveil.
    “Fire away.” Faeveil replied.
    “What do you call a jacket that’s on fire?”
    “What?”
    “A blazer.”
    “These are terrible.” Ardjinn said flatly, crossing his arms. “You’re both terrible.”
    “Come on, don’t get too heated.”
    “We’re not trying to roast you.”
    “Yeah, we’re just trying to spark a conversation.”
    “You two are seriously making my blood boil…” Ardjinn paused, the realization hit him as the others all burst out laughing. “I can’t believe-” He dragged a hand down his face in exasperation, but started laughing as well.
    “Feel better?” Yūrein smiled at Ardjinn.
    “Eh, sure,” Ardjinn shrugged. “Just stop with the puns.”
    “I can’t promise that.”

Chapter 5: 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.