The dimensional portal spat them out like unwanted cargo, sending both Finnian and Seraphina tumbling through the air before they crashed into what felt like a mountain of ice-cold snow. The impact knocked the wind from Finnian's lungs, and for a moment, all he could see were stars dancing across his vision.
"Ow…" he groaned, pushing himself up on his elbows. Snow clung to his dark hair like crystalline confetti, and his breath came out in visible puffs of vapor. "Where are we?"
Seraphina emerged from her own snow drift with considerably more grace, her silver hair somehow still perfectly arranged despite their rough landing. Her violet eyes swept their surroundings with practiced efficiency. "The Northern Wastes," she said, brushing snow from her cloak. "About three hundred miles from your house. Good—they won't be able to track us here through conventional means."
Finnian struggled to his feet, his teeth already chattering. The landscape around them was a frozen wasteland stretching to the horizon, broken only by jagged ice formations and the occasional twisted tree. Above them, the aurora borealis painted the star-filled sky in sheets of green and blue light.
"It's beautiful," he breathed, momentarily forgetting the cold.
"And deadly," Seraphina added pragmatically. "The temperature here drops to minus forty at night, and there are ice wraiths that—"
A bone-chilling howl echoed across the wasteland, cutting her off mid-sentence. In the distance, glowing blue eyes appeared in the darkness—dozens of them, moving with predatory purpose through the snow.
"Ice wolves," Seraphina muttered, her hand already glowing with magical energy. "Of course."
The pack emerged from the darkness like living nightmares. Each wolf was the size of a small horse, their fur crystalline white and their fangs gleaming like icicles. Frost radiated from their bodies with each breath, and their eyes burned with supernatural hunger.
"*Stellar Barrier!*" Seraphina raised her hand, but the spell flickered weakly—the dimensional travel had drained more of her power than she'd let on.
The lead wolf, a massive alpha with scars crisscrossing its muzzle, gathered its legs beneath it and leaped with lethal grace. Its jaws opened wide, revealing rows of ice-sharp teeth aimed directly at Finnian's throat.
"**Thunderclap Strike!**"
A war hammer wreathed in crackling lightning slammed into the alpha wolf mid-leap, sending it flying backward into a snowbank with a tremendous crash. The weapon's wielder landed between Finnian and the pack with earth-shaking force—a mountain of a man in fur-lined armor, his red beard braided with small bones and his eyes blazing with battle fury.
"Gareth Ironforge at your service!" the warrior bellowed, hefting his massive hammer like it weighed nothing. "Though you picked a hell of a night for sightseeing!"
Before the pack could regroup, arrows began raining down from above with supernatural precision. Each shot found its mark, striking the wolves in non-lethal spots that sent them yelping back into the darkness. A figure dropped from seemingly nowhere—a lithe woman in dark leather, her bow still drawn and her green eyes sharp as emeralds.
"Show-off," she muttered to Gareth, though there was affection in her voice. "Could have just scared them off instead of making a dramatic entrance."
"Where's the fun in that, Kira?" Gareth grinned.
A new voice, melodious and cultured, drifted across the snow. "Perhaps we should save the banter for after we've properly rescued these two?"
Finnian's breath caught in his throat as she approached. Even in the ethereal light of the aurora, she was breathtaking. Auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders like liquid fire, and her amber eyes held depths that spoke of both wisdom and sorrow. She wore traveling clothes of fine make, though they were practical rather than ostentatious. There was something regal in the way she moved, as if she'd been born to command attention without trying.
"Lady Lyralei Ashworth," she introduced herself with a graceful curtsy that somehow managed not to look ridiculous in the snow. "Though I suspect formal introductions can wait until we're somewhere warmer."
"Agreed," said a fourth voice—younger, more energetic. A girl who couldn't be older than sixteen bounced through the snow with impossible enthusiasm, her purple hair defying both gravity and the wind. Magical energy crackled around her fingertips like playful lightning. "Zara Brightspell, apprentice extraordinaire! And you two look like you've had a very bad day."
Seraphina stepped forward, still maintaining her magical barrier despite its weakened state. "We're grateful for the assistance, but how did you know we'd—"
"The dimensional tear was visible for miles," Lyralei explained, her amber eyes fixed on Seraphina with obvious recognition. "Few people have the power to create emergency portals of that magnitude, and fewer still would risk landing in the Northern Wastes. We've been monitoring magical disturbances in this region for weeks."
"Monitoring?" Finnian asked, though he was still trying not to stare at Lyralei. There was something about her that made his heart race—not just her beauty, but an aura of strength and mystery that called to something deep inside him.
Gareth hefted his hammer onto his shoulder. "We're treasure hunters, lad. Well, mostly. Been tracking rumors of ancient temple sites in this region. Turns out the old empire had outposts even in this frozen hell."
"Ancient temples?" Seraphina's voice sharpened with interest.
Kira nodded, her expression growing serious. "Three confirmed sites within a day's travel. All of them have been… active lately. Strange lights, magical resonances, things that shouldn't be happening in ruins that have been dead for a thousand years."
"It started about a week ago," Zara added, her usual bouncy demeanor subdued. "The temples are waking up, and nobody knows why."
Lyralei's amber eyes moved to Finnian, and he felt like she was seeing straight through to his soul. "Though I suspect we might have our answer now." She stepped closer, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "You're him, aren't you? The one the old prophecies speak of. The Lost Heir."
The words hit Finnian like a physical blow. "I… what?"
Seraphina moved closer to Finnian, her protective instincts clearly activated. "Lady Ashworth seems remarkably well-informed about bloodlines and prophecies." She said, " but this is not the lost heir you seek."
Lyralei's expression grew pained, and for a moment, her regal composure cracked. "My kingdom fell six months ago, but I managed to save the Royal Archives—including texts about the Ancient Empire that have been lost to the world for centuries."
"Your kingdom?" Finnian's voice was soft with sympathy.
"Aethermoor," she said, the name carrying the weight of profound loss. "We ruled over the Eastern Reaches for three hundred years. My family… they didn't make it out." Her amber eyes hardened with resolve. "But I swore an oath on their graves that I would uncover the truth behind the empire's return, and I would see justice done."
Gareth's gruff voice broke the somber moment. "Touching as this is, we're still standing in the middle of a frozen wasteland, and those ice wolves are probably regrouping. Our camp is an hour's march south—warm fire, hot food, and walls that'll keep the nasties out."
"And," Zara added with renewed excitement, "we've got maps! Detailed maps of all three temple sites, complete with magical surveys and theoretical entry points!"
Kira was already moving, her bow ready. "I'll take point. Stay close and try not to freeze to death before we get there."
As the group began to move through the snow, Lyralei fell into step beside Finnian.
Finnian glanced at her, struck again by the strength in her amber eyes. "Why are you helping us? You could have just let us freeze."
Lyralei was quiet for a long moment, her breath forming small clouds in the frigid air. "Because the same forces that destroyed my kingdom are after you. Because those temples hold answers we both need. And because…" She hesitated, then met his gaze directly. "Because I believe the prophecies are true. And if they are, then you might be our only hope of stopping whatever's coming."
Behind them, Seraphina watched the interaction with unreadable eyes, her magical senses picking up the subtle changes in Finnian's aura whenever Lyralei spoke.
The aurora danced overhead as they trudged through the snow toward warmth, safety, and the promise of answers hidden in ancient stone and forgotten magic.