Chapter 2: Day Two, One of Intrigue

"So, what now?" Isabell whispered, "Do you guys wanna explore some more?"

Atticus sighed, watching his breath condense into a mist and rubbing his hands on the cold stone floor of the cavern- he looked to the outside world. It was snowing out there. Crisp and cold, as always.

"Well, I guess doing some more exploration wouldn't hurt," Atticus replied.

Irapol gave his agreement in the form of a nod, and the trio set out onto their second day of exploring the perilous wilderness of their frozen world. Getting up and walking out of the cavern, they were greeted by the usual fog. The sun's rays barely reached the permafrost below their feet. As they walked through the frozen forest, Atticus surveyed each small detail fervently.

"One of the resources out here could be precious, you never know! And, to be quite frank, that hound we encountered last night wasn't very remarkable. I still don't see a reason to fear the frost." Atticus chimed.

Irapol shook his head in disagreement. "Don't be an idiot. There'll be plenty of dangers ahead of us. This damn frost is unforgiving in every way."

Atticus shrugged, knowing that he could- quite easily, defeat anything that dared to attack him or his friends. Walking some more through the thick forest, through snow, Isabell noticed something in the distance. It appeared to be a run-down lodge with a stone base and a wooden roof.

"Hey, is that a home or something? The architecture looks so old, oh it's so fascinating!" She said.

Isabell, beaming, sprinted straight to the ruins she had pointed out.

"Get back here! You don't know what's over there, you halfwit!" Irapol snarled, frantically running after her.

Atticus chuckled to himself as he watched the two sprint towards the ruins. "I'm happy to be with them. I'm happy to do things like these with them. I'm happy they're my family, and that'll never change." He thought.

Clambering into the archaic lodge featured an interior decorated with dust and frosted cobwebs furnished with a desk of old age, a cot with a rotten mattress, and some glass shattered on the ground. The party scoured for any items that could prove to be potentially helpful. Atticus brushed the built-up snow debris to the side while Irapol ducks under the dejected bed.

"I found something!" he exclaimed.

 Atticus and Isabell, in sync, both looked over at Irapol and sauntered over. He had pulled out a small box made out of a strange but elegant metallic purple material and adorned with a golden lock. "Ooh, a mithril lockbox!" Atticus gushed. 

"We'll need to open it using something strong enough or find something to pick the lock."

 Looking around for something that could break through the metal, Irapol looked up with an inspired sparkle in his eyes.

 "My hatchet! We can break this thing open with my hatchet!" He mused.

With his gaze meeting Atticus' own, Atticus nodded to his friend, matching his enthusiasm, eagerly waiting to see what lies in the box. Irapol assumed a strong stance and brung his iron hatchet down upon the purple box. The strike lifted the dust around them- curiously waiting for it to clear, but they were both disappointed to see that the strike didn't even leave so much as a scratch and left the hatchet with a rolled edge. Atticus let out a disappointed sigh and slouched himself to the seat of the old desk for a quick break, and Irapol let himself fall to the ground joining him. Meanwhile, Isabell, still enchanted by the small old stone house, explores the small room. Noticing a protruding stone brick, she advanced over to investigate it, scraping away the frost that was adhering the brick unto the ground; carefully, she lifted the brick and her eyes lit up.

"I found something guys, look over here, look!" She shouted as if she were a child eagerly showing something to her parents.

Isabell's sharp screech and interrupted the boy's rest. Looking over to her direction, they saw in both of her palms a small, rusted gold object. 

It was a key. That much was obvious, but the implication restored Irapol and Atticus's enthusiasm, looking over to each other with a mad grin

."You think this key will unlock the box?" Isabel said.

Replying in unison, Irapol and Atticus gave an enthusiastic "Yes!"

Irapol inserted the key into the box's lock and turned it. Like clockwork, they heard the gears within being turned as the purple metal detached itself and opened. Inside the box were some curious papers, one rolled up, on top of a few others. On the bottom held a decent amount of sizable gold coins and an attractive stygian flower.

"What's this?" Atticus asked, looking at the dark petite flower.

Isabell peered at the flower for a moment, then answered. "Oh! That's a black water rose. They grow in springs, sort of like an underwater flower, and they're traditionally worn in Elven funerals." She explained.

Irapol, rolling his eyes, chimed in."I guess you taking those Elven history classes back in monastic school was worth something, eh?" He snorted.

"Oh, shut up you!" Isabell hissed.

"What are you two waiting for? Let's see what these papers are about!" Atticus said, eager to read the old documents held within this mithril box. 

Grabbing the rolled-up paper, unknown to them was, they were about to read the history of a family, a tale of death, destruction, and the aftermath of a broken house. Atticus pinched the tip of the scroll and slowly unrolled it.

They began reading the old note."The rumors were true. It wasn't fake! Curse me! We should've listened to them! The Winterspell is real! Just this morning, reports from nearby kingdoms describe snowing in even the sultry areas of the world, something that should never have been possible. But at the same time as the snowing, The Undead Horde took advantage of the cold weather and began a raid from their home area, slowly capturing over more and more land, killing all they touched, forming an oppressive force that's unstoppable. Even The Alluria Empire's rallied armies proved to be no match. Builders came down to this small village and established a watchtower and a few small stone fortifications, but we are left otherwise undefended. They say they're coming from the North, however as for the source of the Winterspell, we have no idea where it's coming from, but they say that it's spreading at a dizzying pace, freezing the forests, mountains, and even desserts! It shouldn't be possible for such a large-scale spell to have been casted, but this is our new reality, and we're inching towards doom by the hour. My daughter had set out on an expedition to a nearby Dwarven settlement in the mountains four weeks ago but has not since returned. I fear for her life. I know that the Winterspell will likely engulf and destroy cities and towns, deteriorating them to nothing as quickly as it touched them. Lilly, or whoever else that's reading this, I've put my most precious belongings in this mithril box. Thankfully, mithril- having cryo resisting properties should withstand the temperatures of the Winterspell. You will find my notes, a map of the region, a black water rose for mother's funeral, all the remaining gold coins I have, and necessary documents to enter the Empire of Alluria. May this aid your survival, The Winterspell is coming! -John, Year 550."

"Wait a minute..." Atticus said, rubbing his chin in thought.

"This note is three hundred years old!" He proclaimed, shocked.

"Well damn, sucks to be him, but these items should help us in the long run, especially these coins!" Irapol declared.

"That's true.. but I feel so bad for John. I mean, think about it, he lost his wife, his daughter, and..." Isabelle winces,"..possibly everyone else to the Winterspell"  Isabell said in a defeated tone.

"I mean, you can't do much about it. It was centuries ago, but it must've destroyed so many lives that it's.. unfathomable." Atticus said.

The three sat in a moment of silence out of respect for the man who had written the note. They thanked John for the contents in the box and exited the ruins of his home. Proceeding onwards, the gang advanced through the vast forest. Atticus put his hand over his eyes and squinted. 

"The fog is clearing, guys." He said. 

Up ahead, the forest had ended and eroded into a sharp decline into an endless flat of frozen plains. They had unexpectedly just discovered a new biome in this frozen world. 

The trio looked at each other with satisfied smiles and ran towards the frozen plains. Moving down the steep decline, Isabell's careless descent led her to slip on an icy rock and fall- badly damaging her knee, but thanks to Atticus' backup supplies, she was bandaged fairly quickly. Irapol lectured her, once more. 

"You shouldn't be so damn careless! Isabell, remember why we couldn't go beyond the gate until now!" He shrilled.

 Atticus, glancing over at the two arguings, decided to direct his attention to the horizon. The fog had faded quite a bit. But there was something that caught his attention in the distance. Beyond the ice weeds of the plains, there were... spires. 

"Hold on guys.." Atticus said as he scrambled through his old fur bag. "Aha, gotcha!"

 Atticus said, quickly unfolding the map he found in the lockbox. Sitting down on his knees- spreading the map, he dragged his finger onto it to mark where they had come from. He inspected the shadowy spires in the distance and directed his attention back to Irapol and Isabell.

 "That's a city." He said with slight bewilderment. 

The two ceased their squabble and immediately rushed to look at the map, backing up to get a better angle of the mysterious spires in the distance.

 "You weren't kiddin" mumbled Irapol.

They rolled up the map and began their journey towards the city in the distance.

The city of Atlas.