Submission (#7908) Approved

Mavis had always loved the cold. Or at least, she thought that she did.

When she first stepped off the caravan and into the snowy expanse of Strynhalde, her cheeks were flushed, breath puffing out in little clouds, and her fur lined coat was already collecting a fine dusting of snow. The ground crunched beneath her boots, and every direction looked like something pulled straight from a snow globe, ice coated trees, snow covered hills, and glistening formations clinging to rocky outcrops. The air was sharp and crisp, biting at her nose, and the sky overhead was an endless stretch of silver and white.

She had come to Strynhalde to chase more light showers.

Palu'au's rainbow reefs and prismatic light shower bursts had left her smitten, and ever since those surreal experiences of the light showers that she'd had, she'd made it a small mission to learn everything she could about them. That had meant long evenings reading many old articles, leafing through dusty and smelly library books, and even chatting with a few eccentric travelers that she'd met who claimed to have seen them more than once. One location kept popping up again and again, and that was Strynhalde, and specifically, the ice caves in the region.

Apparently, when the right conditions were aligned, the light showers would pierce through the cracks and crevices of the ice caves, refracting into a display so stunning it could leave one speechless with wonder.

She wanted to see it for herself. She had to see it for herself.

Mavis had been camping out near one of the more well known ice caverns for a few days and nights now. Her makeshift campsite was nestled between two jagged ice boulders, with her little tent buried under a protective layer of fluffy snow. She’d brought plenty containers of soup, layers upon layers of warm clothing, and a journal that she’d filled with all her little observations about the weather, the way the wind shifted, and notes on both the cave’s interior as well as its exterior.

Most days were quiet. Cold. So very fluffing cold. 

But today felt a bit different.

The air was even more crisp than usual. It felt like there was a hush over the forest that went beyond just some simple silence, it was expectant. Like the all the fauna and flora holding their breaths along with Mavis.

Mavis, bundled tightly in a thick scarf and mittens, stepped carefully into the entrance of the ice cave. Her lantern cast soft  yellow light against the ice, which shimmered in a bunch of different shades of blue. The deeper she walked, the more the walls of the cave seemed to come alive, curving in arches overhead, studded with icicles that looked like chandeliers.

She’d been here every day for nearly a week, and yet the sight still took her breath away.

Then she saw it.

A soft glow.

She turned off her lantern.

At first, it was faint, no more than the suggestion of light seeping through cracks in the ice above. But then, like someone had lifted a veil, the light shower began.

Threads of color began cascading from the cracks above, violet, gold, seafoam green, and deep sapphire. They danced along the walls, catching every smooth and jagged surface, turning the cave into a cathedral of color. The motes sparkled as they descended, and when they finally reached the cave floor, they didn’t just fade. They burst, tiny explosions of shimmering light that resembled fireflies caught mid flight.

Mavis let out a soft, awed gasp. Her hands trembled, not from the cold, but from the sheer wonder of it all.

She sank to the cave floor slowly, sitting back on her heels, mittens pressed against her cheeks. The light touched everything. The floor, her coat, even the strands of her fur peeking out from her hood. Her breath caught in her throat.

It was quiet, save for the occasional drip of water echoing in the cavern. The entire world had distilled into this single, perfect moment, just her, the ice, and the falling light.

She lay back gently, her back resting against a cushion of packed snow, and stared up at the glowing canopy above. The colors were always changing, sometimes subtle, like a watercolor wash, and other times sudden and bold, like fireworks frozen in time. She watched one mote drift down lazily and land on her mitten. It flickered, pulsed gently, then popped into a burst of sparkling blue.

"You’re so pretty," she whispered to it, and smiled.

Time lost all meaning.

She didn’t know how long she lay there, but eventually, the light began to fade. The motes slowed, thinned out, and vanished. The cave, once vibrant and alive, softened into quiet again.

Mavis sat up slowly, heart still fluttering with the weight of what she’d seen. She pulled out her notebook and her fingers, stiff from the cold, moved to sketch as much as she could remember, the way the light had moved, the colors she’d seen, the way it all felt so impossibly alive and wonderous.

She tucked the notebook back into her coat and lingered just a bit longer, her eyes roving the ice walls now painted with the faintest echo of what had happened.

The world had returned to its dull quiet, but she had finally witnessed what she had been camping here for, and for that, she was happy.

"Totally worth it," she said to herself, as she walked out of the ice cavern.