Submission (#2567) Approved

I was sitting in the back of a Strynhalde bakery, munching on a pastry. Like many, I was there to simply escape the bitter cold outside with the store’s flickering fireplace. A pair of elnin (adventurers, I presumed) were talking about Zevija at a table across from mine.

Zevija is infamous for its blistering heat and dangerous volcanoes. It was the complete opposite of my hometown in icy Strynhalde. To be frank, I was quite afraid of the region, yet the elnin in front of me painted not just a sulfurous wasteland, but of a place of beauty and wonder.

Of course, there was still the endless grey melancholy spanning across the plantless canyons, but it was beyond that, hidden in the very dry stone I wanted to avoid, that there were caves packed full of gemstones and ores that glittered all colours of the northern lights in the lantern beams.

I knew I had to go, despite the difficulty of the journey before me. And I did.

Nearly a week later, I stood in sweltering heat atop Zevija’s bordering mountains, looking out across a misty terrain.

As I trekked downwards with my guide, the air grew heavy and overwhelmingly humid. Every step I took on the ashy soil burned my ill-prepared paws, my eyes stung from whatever gases mixed with the boiling geyser steam, and my dense fur carried every sooty particle along with me. Before we had even made it to the plateau of hot springs, I had turned the gravely colour of the rocks around me. I found it difficult to breathe, but the thought of something as magnificent as Strynhalde skies being underground drew me forward.

After another three hours of travel, my guide suddenly took a sharp turn off the rocky path. I thought he was about to ram into a cliff, but I was mistaken. Tucked in between the layers of stone was a tiny opening, small enough that even the shortest elnin needed to duck their head down to avoid scraping against jagged rock.

I looked over at the looming Eldertree (which was tall enough that it’s trunk could remain snow-white) and it’s flame-coloured leaves.

Maybe Zevija isn’t all that bad, I thought before following my guide into the caves.

What greeted me upon my entrance was a breathtaking sight. The air was slightly cooler in the caves, and the chatter of other elnin bubbled from within. Despite the low light, crystals of all different colours and sizes glowed with such lumosity that it was like a morning sky.

I spent the rest of my day exploring the mines with my guide, stopping by one of the many cities hidden within the cavern walls. We ate foods with flavours I had never experienced before and slept in divots within the walls, cozily cold to rest against.

But very soon, I had to return home, where ice and snow reigned supreme. A week’s journey lay ahead, and I’ll admit I left with some hesitance. Yet nothing could quite beat the feeling I got when I returned to the tundra, able to finally clear all the soot and ash from my puffy, white fur.