The expansion of ice and rebuilding of structures began to increase, the castle serving as a focal point. The momentum of change revealed a city taking shape. Diverse buildings that suggested there had once been a thriving civilization that called this place home.

The rebuilding took little more than ten minutes to complete, but once it was finished, the emptiness of the city became apparent. Even after the city had been repaired, there were areas of devastation, vast swaths of buildings that had been destroyed. Areas that appeared as if a giant had smashed its way through.

The destruction appeared indiscriminate and strangely stopped a short distance from the castle’s walls. Either this was where whatever had destroyed parts of the city was defeated or where whoever held the castle had surrendered.

I looked around, trying to determine where I should start exploring. Most cultivators would have chosen the castle to begin their exploration. Still, I was more interested in finding knowledge to help fortify and strengthen my territory than any treasure to sell for profit.

There was no telling when the Mystic Realm might open again and what level of cultivation suited the Realm, but if I met the requirements when that happened, then I would worry about personal gain.

That decided, I planned to search the buildings that remained, maybe even some of the ruined buildings. I hoped to find techniques or inheritances that might advance what we knew about the professions. Elves had co-opted the knowledge the Hindel had collected to understand runes. I wondered if Mystic Realms had helped our understanding of the other professions.

Or even something completely new.

“This city was once the capital for Winter’s Court,” Hoarfrost informed me as I landed near a building that appeared to be a smithy. I hadn’t noticed his approach, hidden as he had been in the whispers of the wind. “It was invaded, the foundation corrupted when a fanatic of Summer’s Court thought to curry favor.”

“He would break the balance of seasons?” I asked, not sure if such a balance existed in this Realm.

I had some ideas of what would happen to the ecology of the world if winter was lost, global warming on a cataclysmic stage. The planet would flood as ice long locked in glaciers finally melted. Coasts would change, islands would disappear, and those plants and animals that flourished in winter’s tundra would face extinction if they couldn’t evolve fast enough to the changing landscape.

“Lady Yuki-onno abandoned this place, leaving the city as you see it as a warning. The buildings might fail, the ice might melt, but winter is enduring. It and She will return, an ebb and flow of seasons that has existed since the first world was created and will exist until the last star dies.

“Hidden within the castle are three artifacts of power, one of water, one of ice, and one of wind. If you find those treasures, the Lady will reward you with the knowledge of how they were created. She will gift you with the ability to create artifacts that correspond to any of the elements you control.”

“Is there a time limit?” I asked, unwilling to give up my goal of searching the city.

“The Realm will close in six months. You have until that happens to succeed,” Hoarfrost said. I found it interesting that he was aware we were inside a Mystic Realm. Perhaps those that lived inside were aware of what was happening.

Maybe those with intelligence, like Hoarfrost, understand the mechanics of rift opening and closing.

“Will I be able to try again the next time the Realm opens?” I asked.

“The Realm will open once every forty-two years. The artifacts and the quest to find them will remain until they have been claimed. But if you advance past the Nascent Soul Realm, you will be barred from entering the Realm and Lady Yuki-onno’s Fief.”

That was an interesting tidbit of information. I extrapolated from Hoarfrost’s statement that there would be a larger clamor for entry to the Realm once the Sect was informed of the rifts opening. I was relieved to find that the rift wasn’t geared towards an even higher cultivation realm. It meant the people I had selected from my House to enter the rift would get a chance to explore.

Forty-two seemed like a strange interval between rift openings. I wondered if there was some meaning behind the number but decided it didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if it was the answer to life, the universe, and everything.

“Is Lady Yuki-Onno in residence?” I wondered, not sure if I hoped she was or wasn’t. It would make things easier if she wasn’t, but I confess I found the idea of meeting an aspect of winter given shape and form enthralling.

Maybe that had something to do with the elements I resonated with.

“The Lady never visits Kori,” Hoarfrost replied, his reply giving the name to the city that had been abandoned.

“She finds it challenging to remain calm whenever she sees the destruction that was done. And the Queen of Winter enraged is not something to be dismissed. The last time she visited, she released a blizzard that lasted a month.

“It buried everything under mounds of snow that took the Queen of Summer a concerted effort to clear.”

“And the people that lived here?”

“Those that survived immigrated to the new capital. But there were very few survivors.”

I wondered why. Although the town was riddled with ruin, more than two-thirds of the buildings seemed to have survived. Why would so many have died if the damage was contained to a limited area?

“The attacker used a gas, an alchemical substance that our citizens absorbed. Just as ice can absorb and retain odors, the people absorbed this gas that disrupted the magical synergy that gave them life.

“Snowmen, women, and children melted into puddles of water with no hope of reviving. Even worse, the winter solstice was being celebrated, so citizens from other communities were here participating in song, sledding, and snowball games.

“Frosty the snowman, elected as carnival king, was barely crowned with his top hat before his death.”

I refused to ask if Frosty’s final words were ‘Happy Birthday!’ instead, I wondered if the process for giving snow life could be found in the ruins of this city. My Fief was located in a tropical area of the planet, but maybe the process could be adapted to other elements.

I knew that elementals existed. I had discovered an entire city of Earth Elementals. Maybe if I could learn the secret of creating and bringing them to life, I could build a self-replicating, self-healing army to help defend my territory and combat beast tides.

It was probably a pipe dream. The biological and magical matrix that allowed people to be formed of snow as sentient people was beyond me. An attempt to sculpt a new race of elements was not something even an Immortal Venerable cultivator might attempt.

It wasn’t something they focused on. Cultivators excelled at ending life. I doubt in the long history of Elven society that even one cultivator has focused on engendering new life forms.