The Cold Sneer of Storm Ridge

"Even now, thinking back, I still feel a chill," Grayson mused.

Bathed in the afternoon sun, the snowy valley gleamed, reflecting a dreamlike haze of light that enveloped the party of four, all but camouflaged in their white garb.

Walking alongside Grayson, Seraphine looked at him with concern, "I've been replaying your bold confrontation with Tyrrel in my mind. It was utterly heart-stopping. Had Tyrrel truly lost his temper and decided to kill you, we would have been powerless to stop him."

"If Tyrrel had wanted me dead, it would only confirm his collusion with the dark wizards," Grayson replied with a sly smile, glancing back at Seraphine. "I needed to test him, to see how he would react."

"And, did you find the answer you were looking for?" Seraphine asked, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

"It's quite evident. If Tyrrel were hiding the holy relic, hoping to use it to overcome Solon, he wouldn't risk agreeing to my suggestion and placing his precious life in the hands of humans," Grayson said with confident assurance.

"Do you really believe Andros and Gothard can keep Tyrrel safe?" Seraphine asked, her tone laced with doubt.

"The key lies with Andros; I wouldn't put my trust in Gothard. If Andros can control the situation, I believe they can hold Solon at bay. But we must move quickly; there's no time to lose!" Grayson called out to Morven and Katheren, who were lagging behind, "Hey, you two, are we romancing back there? This isn't the prince's garden; we've got a long way ahead!"

The two caught up, looking sheepishly at each other in response to Grayson's teasing.

At a fork in the snowy valley, Grayson consulted the map and pointed to Morven, "We have two paths. To the left leads to Serpent's Valley, marked with the lair of the Serpentfolk."

"We've made enough enemies of the Serpentfolk; best to avoid that," the adventurer said, studying the map and gesturing towards the mountainous route on the right. "The mountain might be a better choice."

Grayson looked up at the path winding up the mountainside, peaceful under the sun's gaze. After a moment's thought, he spoke, "Though your points are valid, I can't say I'm fond of the name 'Storm Ridge.'"

As he spoke, a whirl of blue energy sprung from Seraphine's waist, and the Djinn materialized before them.

"Don't fret," the Djinn floated beside Grayson, pointing to the marked ridge, "To my knowledge, there are no monsters on Storm Ridge. It's a shorter journey and your best bet for a shortcut."

"Perhaps you're right, but I'd like to hear from the ladies as well." Grayson turned to Seraphine and Katheren, who, after a quiet discussion, agreed, "Let's cross the ridge; we'd rather not encounter the Serpentfolk again."

Grayson nodded, looking at the map where 'Storm Ridge' was inscribed. "Well then, if we're all in agreement, Storm Ridge it is. Djinn, lead the way."

They took the path to the right, ascending the mountain. The ridge was barren, save for jagged rocks; not a tree in sight. The sunlight poured down joyfully upon them, lightening their spirits and quickening their steps.

Katheren, stretching her arms towards the sun, said cheerily to Seraphine, "Such beautiful weather—I could lie in the sun and sleep!"

"That sounds nice," Seraphine smiled softly, "but I've never experienced that. The sun is a luxury for humans and land creatures. Have you ever seen fish dried by the sun on the shore?"

Katheren paused at the thought, then, linking arms with Seraphine, laughed, "It's different for you; you're not just any fish!"

Their laughter was abruptly cut short as shadows replaced the bright sunshine. Looking up, they saw dark clouds eclipsing the sky, turning the once-clear blue into a grim gray, as if the world had been stripped of light.

"What's happening?" Seraphine called out to the others.

"It's just a passing cloud!" the Djinn assured her, leading the way.

Reassured, they continued up the path, but the shadows grew denser, and Storm Ridge seemed eerily oppressive under the cloud cover. The white snow turned a ghastly black, the dim glow rendering the already treacherous terrain even more ominous.

Darkness fell swiftly, bringing a midnight blindness. The owl peeked out from Grayson's hood, scanning the blackness with her luminous eyes, "Why has it grown so dark so quickly?"

No answer came, as the sudden dark engulfed each heart. Grayson peered upwards, his brow furrowed in concern rarely seen on his face, suggesting unease to Seraphine.

"Something's wrong," Grayson declared, and before Seraphine could inquire further, a thunderous roar descended from the heavens, a deluge of snow cascading down the slope.

The earth shook violently, and a vast white fog billowed from the avalanche, cloaking the ridge in a vast expanse of white. The land trembled under the deafening roar before settling into silence, leaving only the relentless howl of the storm.