The room was bathed in the warm, flickering glow of the fireplace, the delicate dance of flames casting intricate shadows on the walls like ethereal dancers in a silent ballet. The crackling embers whispered tales of forgotten warmth, offering a momentary respite from the weight of my Guardian duties. Freya, cocooned in a blanket of cozy light, found solace in the pages of her book, the gentle rustle of paper creating a soothing melody that underscored the quiet of our small home.

The sudden knock jolted me from my reverie, a sharp reminder of the world beyond our door, a world where duty and danger often intertwined. My body reacted before my mind fully grasped the situation, muscle memory guiding me towards the unknown waiting on our doorstep. "I'll get it," my voice, steady yet tinged with an undercurrent of apprehension, broke the silence, offering Freya a nod to stay her curiosity. She nodded back, a silent understanding passing between us, her eyes briefly meeting mine with a mixture of concern and trust.

As the door swung open, the chill of the afternoon invaded our warm haven. Sam Tawny, a familiar face within the community and a harbinger of news, stood before me, his features etched with urgency. "Guardian Cody, sir," his voice, usually confident, now held a tremor of unease, "Krid's gone missing. There's trouble at the Portal Cave." His words hung between us, a cloud of impending doom.

The impact of his news was immediate and visceral. A storm of emotions raged within me, a whirlwind of concern, duty, and an unbidden fear for what this meant for Krid and our community. Freya's gasp, sharp and laden with worry, was quickly followed by the sound of her book hitting the floor, a thud in the quiet room.

My heart skipped a beat, and without a second thought, I reached for my heavy winter jacket, its familiar weight a grounding force in the face of impending turmoil.

The chill in the air bit at my skin as I stepped beyond the threshold of warmth and safety, only to be met by an unexpected force—Freya, her hand gripping my arm with an urgency that mirrored the tumult within my heart. Her eyes, wide and resolute, locked onto mine, an unspoken vow of solidarity in their depths. "I'm coming with you," she declared, her voice determined. The resolve in her gaze sparked a mix of emotions within me; pride intertwined with a gnawing fear for her safety.

Without a word, I nodded, the silent exchange cementing our shared resolve. A protective instinct, fierce and unwavering, coursed through me, tempered only by the knowledge that Freya possessed a strength all her own.

The journey through the snow-covered paths of Belkeep felt like a race against time, each step echoing with the urgency of the unknown.

"Do you know what happened?" Freya's voice, laden with concern, cut through the biting wind that swept across our path.

Despite his young age of thirteen, Sam's demeanour remained calm and controlled, a stoic reflection of a childhood that had vanished into adulthood too soon—a normal occurrence in Belkeep, where harsh conditions and isolation forced children to grow into adults prematurely.

"I'm not really sure," replied Sam, his breath visible in the frigid air. "Chief sent me to get you as soon as he heard the news. He's already on his way to the Portal Cave."

A sense of fear and urgency gripped my chest, and I looked over to Freya. "Where's Fryar?" I asked, feeling the sudden need to have both of my children close.

"He's already at the Portal Cave," replied Freya, pointing into the distance where the figure of Fryar could be seen approaching the entrance to the cave.

The icy wind cut through the air as we neared the entrance of the Portal Cave, a place where the fabric between worlds seemed thin and fragile. The cold seeped deep into my bones, matching the growing unease in my heart.

Chief Drikarsus stood near the entrance, his gaze fixed on the ominous darkness within. "Cody," he greeted solemnly, acknowledging our arrival. "This is a dire situation,” added Brogyin, who had been standing nearby.

I nodded in agreement, my eyes scanning the surroundings for any clues. "What do we know so far?" I asked, my voice cutting through the eerie silence of the cave.

“Not a lot,” answered Prim, stepping out from the cave’s shadows.

My eyes narrowed curiously. "It was Prim’s daughter who raised the alarm,” Sam explained.

"Yes," Prim confirmed with a nod. "Laura and Krid had come here to wait for you."

"Wait for me? What for?" I asked, my confusion dissipating as I realised Krid's affinity for this place. It had always been her favourite spot, and aside from greeting me on my constant comings and goings, I couldn't fathom why.

Prim had a specific reply. “Laura wanted to ask you if you could get her one of these,” she said, her hand unfurling to reveal a small magnet of Tasmania—the same one I had given Krid recently. A sinking feeling gripped my chest. "She wouldn't leave this behind willingly," I murmured, my mind racing to make sense of the puzzle.

“So, if Laura was with Krid, does she know what happened?” Freya's frustration with the lack of details showed in her tone. The cave's shadows seemed to close in, holding secrets that eluded our understanding, intensifying the urgency of the unravelling mystery.

Brogyin interrupted, gesturing towards a dark crimson stain on the floor. “There’s evidence of a struggle here,” he said, his weathered finger pointing to the ominous mark.

Forgetting the unanswered question, the small group huddled, their breaths visible in the cold air, as they examined the finding in more detail. The dark crimson stain seemed to seep into the very fabric of the cave floor, a sinister testament to an unsettling event.

“That looks like blood,” said Fryar, his voice hushed with a mix of realisation and dread.

Freya gripped my arm tightly, her fingers pressing into my jacket, her face a mix of worry and determination. “We need to find her, Dad. Krid’s just a child.”

I placed a reassuring hand on Freya’s shoulder, the touch an anchor in the midst of uncertainty. “We will, sweetheart.”

“We need to piece together what happened here first,” Fryar chimed in, his analytical gaze scanning the surroundings for any additional clues.

Chief, his expression grave, spoke up. "We've sent word around town. Everyone will be wanting to assist in the search.”

“Are you sure that is wise?” Fryar asked, his concern etched across his brow. “We’re not sure what happened yet. We could be putting others in danger.”

“Time is of the essence,” Chief replied, his determination cutting through the cave's heavy atmosphere.

Turning my attention back to Prim and my unresolved question, “I would like to speak with Laura,” I told her firmly, my voice steady amidst the rising tension.

Worry burned behind Prim’s eyes, and she nodded hesitantly. “I’ll take you,” she said, somewhat tentatively.

“Is Laura wounded?” Chief asked, a sensible question given the discovery of the fresh blood.

“No,” answered Prim, her voice a mixture of relief and concern. “She’s just a bit shaken up.”

The sudden arrival of running feet caught our attention, and we all turned towards the cave’s entrance. Peter had arrived, panting as he spoke. “Chief,” he said, his breath visible in the cold air. “Krid’s jacket has been found in the snow on the outskirts of town.”

“Are you certain it’s hers?” Chief inquired, his voice a sturdy lighthouse beam cutting through the fog of uncertainty.

“Yes,” panted Peter. “It’s that dark blue woollen one that she always wears.” His face turned a darker shade of worry.

Sensing the unspoken as much as I had, Chief prompted for more details. Peter hesitated briefly. “There’s traces of blood on it.”

Freya gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in shock.

“Let’s go,” I said, rushing out of the cave, a storm of emotions churning within. “Take us to where her jacket was found,” I commanded Peter, urgency propelling our steps into the bitter cold.