Hello dear ones,
And welcome to tonight's bedtime story.
A story I wrote called The Winter Wizards of Frosthaven.
Before we begin our story,
Let's just take a moment to get comfortable in our beds.
So snuggling down beneath the duvet,
Having a big,
Big,
Big stretch and yawn.
Maybe letting out a few sighs.
Stretching out all your limbs.
Burying yourself deep,
Deep down into your duvet and your bed.
Knowing that the day is over and there is nothing else that you need to do now.
Just be here,
Getting ready for a lovely night's sleep.
And when you are ready,
We will begin.
Once upon a time in the faraway village of Frosthaven,
The world was blanketed by snow nearly all year long.
Icicles hung from the roofs like crystal daggers and the lakes froze into smooth,
Shimmering mirrors.
But no one in the village feared the cold.
For Frosthaven was protected by two gentle guardians.
The wizard Alaric and the witch Alara.
Alaric was tall and lean,
With a long white beard that swept the ground.
His robes were midnight blue and sprinkled with silver stars.
Alara wore emerald green cloaks,
Embroidered with snowflakes.
And her eyes sparkled with the light of a thousand frost-kissed mornings.
Together,
They ensured that the winters were magical rather than harsh.
They enchanted the winds to be playful rather than biting,
Turned storms into gentle snowfalls,
And transformed frozen ponds into ice-skating rinks.
Every year on the eve of the winter solstice,
The villagers gathered in the Great Square for the Festival of the Northern Lights.
Candles were lit,
Stories were shared,
And everyone eagerly awaited the final spell,
When Alaric and Alara would summon the auroras to dance across the sky.
But this year,
Something was different.
A shadow had crept into Frosthaven's usually bright skies.
Dark clouds loomed,
And the air was colder than ever before.
That morning,
Alaric had woken up with a heavy heart.
His magic felt weaker than it should have been,
As if the very frost he had tamed for years was rebelling.
Meanwhile,
Alara had noticed something unusual too.
Strange black snowflakes falling in the northern woods.
It's the work of Morgrim,
The frost-baned sorcerer.
Alara told Alaric as they met near the village's central fountain.
Morgrim was a dark figure from Frosthaven's past.
Long ago,
He had tried to steal winter's magic for himself,
Twisting it into something cruel and destructive.
Though Alaric and Alara had banished him to the distant ice caves,
His anger had never truly melted away.
That evening,
As the villagers gathered in the square,
The dark clouds finally burst open.
Not with snow,
But with shards of icy wind and freezing rain.
The candles blew out,
And even the stars seemed to vanish.
Alara and Alaric stepped forward,
Their wands glowing in the dark.
We need to stop him before the festival is ruined for good,
Alara whispered.
Together,
They closed their eyes and summoned their magic,
Forming a swirling ball of warm light.
They threw it into the sky,
And it burst like fireworks,
Forming a portal of shimmering snowflakes.
With a gust of wind,
They were carried through to the ice caves.
The caves were eerily quiet,
Their walls covered in jagged,
Glistening icicles.
At the far end,
Morgrim stood,
His eyes glowing a frosty blue.
His rogues were as black as midnight,
And frost spread across the ground with every step he took.
You will not steal the joy of our village,
Alaric declared,
Raising his wand.
Morgrim laughed.
Joy is fleeting,
Power is eternal.
With a flick of his hand,
Icy tendrils shot toward the two guardians.
But Alara was ready.
She waved her wand in a graceful arc,
Turning the tendrils into sparkling snowflakes.
Alaric followed with a blast of stardust,
Sending Morgrim stumbling backward.
Winter is not meant to be a season of fear,
Alaric said firmly.
It is a time for peace,
Reflection,
And togetherness.
You could join us,
Morgrim.
You don't have to be alone.
For a moment,
Morgrim's icy glare softened.
But then he shook his head.
I do not need warmth,
He ground.
Seeing the storm still raging in his heart,
Alaric and Alara combined their magic one last time.
They poured all their love for the season.
Its beauty,
Its wonder,
And its hope into a brilliant light that filled the cave.
It melted the frost from the walls.
And even Morgrim felt the tiniest flicker of warmth deep within him.
The dark sorcerer sighed.
Perhaps I have grown tired of this endless cold.
His voice was softer.
Perhaps I will watch the festival.
And with that,
The dark clouds above Frosthaven dissolved.
The sky cleared.
Revealing the stars once again.
As Alaric and Alara returned to the village square,
The villagers cheered.
Together,
They raised their wands.
And a river of color flowed into the sky.
The auroras were more dazzling than ever before.
Painting the night with green,
Pinks,
And blues.
Morgrim watched from snowy hilltop,
A faint smile on his face.
From that day forward,
Frosthaven's winters remained bright and magical.
A testament to the power of hope and the warmth of togetherness.
And so,
Under the glow of the northern lights,
The villagers danced late into the night.
Alaric and Alara shared knowing smiles.
Content that peace had returned once more.
And if you listened carefully to the wind that night,
You might just hear the faintest chuckle.
Morgrim's carried on a winter breeze,
Watching over Frosthaven from afar.
