Legends of Torn: Sword in the Rift

Chapter 4

Night fell with a cold wind; it barreled over the towering mountains in the north and howled like a pack of wolves over the snowy wasteland.  In the center of Castor's camp, a bonfire burned brightly.  Suspended over the flames was a fresh chuck of meat and the smell it produced lingered passed the tents where Valder was bound.  Cold metal links from a chain allowed little movement of his arms.  Castor had kept him at the edge of fire light so he would not be able to feel the warmth, a harsh punishment for a brave soul. Valder tilted his head to avoid the smell of food.  While observing over his shoulder, he saw in the east a great canyon of ice. To the Valan, natives of Valahelm, it was known as Glacier's Rift.  For countless years it had interested the Valan and within its icy hollows held many untold mysteries.  Some legends even suggested the Rift was home to a race of frost giants.  Valder cared not for superstitions, relying more on hard facts.  The knowledge he gained of the land came from studying maps. His duties around Frostmist left him little time to explore.  To the north was a settlement called Raven's Rock, if by some chance he escaped he could relay a message for his village.  The cool breeze splitting through the camp suddenly transformed into a fierce wind. Dark storm clouds swept over shallowing the stars and the light of the two moons.  Heavy flanks of snow fell, and the warming flames of the bonfire twisted in an unexpected blizzard.  The clear air became engulfed by an icy wind disabling all view.  The storm had been sent by Oaknar, Valder assumed, and was a perfect distraction. Between the blinding fury of this snowstorm, Valder was now separated from his capturers. Castor and his soldiers formed a barrier to protect the fire.  Valder's hands were useless but his feet remained free.  Acting quickly, he rolled to his side and pushed himself up with his elbows.  Once on his feet, Valder bolted across a snow littered field.  He fled as if he was being pursued but the blinded army neglected him.  Valder planned to return home for the proper supplies but confusion blocked all senses of direction.  What future holds the Valan of Frostmist with the risk of this escape?  The thought weighed heavily on his mind while his legs struck unseen stones in the blizzard's fury.                                                                                                                 ​Castor shielded his face with the flowing sleeve of his gray cloak.  Lir's son had disappeared!  "He's missing! You fools!"  Castor lashed out at a follower and pushed him towards the disturbed ground where Valder was stationed.  "Find him!"                                                                                                                                              ​Torches were claimed from the blaze and the Airusian soldiers scattered.  Any prints left behind by Valder or fresh prints that followed were erased instantly by the sweeping winds.  The blizzard continued to challenge Valder, until he suddenly slid to a standstill.  At his feet he peered into an abyss of crystalized ice.  The mouth of the canyon stretched for countless yards and beyond a thick wall of frosty mist, icebergs soared high like towers.  A chipping sound arose from under him and Valder slowly retired from the ledge.  Cracks formed at his feet and followed his movement. The torches from Castor's scouts burned brighter and the blizzard began to die. Valder stopped in his tracks overhearing them but then the sheet of ice shattered under his weight. Valder fell into a descent of winding tunnels until finally he crashed upon the floor of Glacier's Rift.