01/01/2026 - 01/31/2026 | 11:59:59PM IST

Hel’s Last Light

It took you a moment to reach the cries that tore through the Pass of Heidrun. You forced your figure through the underbrush, the branches ripping at your coat, when the scene unfolded before you. Hel and Ylva collided into one another, their embrace tight, as if letting go would break them forever.

“I’m here, love,” Hel murmured, her voice low and softer than mostfel might ever hear it. Ylva buried her face even deeper into Hel’s mane now, shaking still.

“Ulfr?” Ylva asked, her words cracking with fear.

“Resting nearby,” Hel answered without hesitation, “He’s alive.”

The tension built within Ylva’s chest finally gave her some relief, her knees nearly buckled beneath it. “Bjorn?” she asked again, fear creeping back in.

Hel hesitated. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure.”

Your gaze shifted now beyond Ylva and Hel. Freyja lay draped over Fenrir’s massive form as he gasped desperately for air, black spilling freely from the wound at his neck as it pooled beneath him steadily. She looked up when she sensed you, eyes locking first with Hel, and then you. Each and every glance was a plea, a plea laced in horror.

“Please,” Freyja sobbed, her voice breaking through the silence. “Don’t leave me again, not now.” Freyja’s words were tangled as her entire body trembled. “I got the books. I found them all. I found the books, please.” She pressed her forehead to Fenrir’s now. “I need you. She needs you. Please.”

She? Hel glanced briefly in your direction, then back to Freyja without turning her head. Ylva struggled to watch, turning her face into Hel’s mane again and again every time she tried to look at Freyja. Her grief caused Ylva to break into tears as she tried to choke them back.

“Is he going to die?” Ylva cried out, her voice muffled between each sob. Hel didn’t answer right away, the energy surrounding the entire moment as it unraveled causing her to blank. “Hel,” Ylva begged.

Hel finally stepped back so the two stood face to face. “I can save him,” she insisted with uncertainty. “But you won’t like how I have to do it.”

Ylva’s expression twisted with a dread only Hel could truly understand. “What do you mean?”

Hel refused to explain. Instead, she turned and trotted towards you. “My friend,” Hel spoke softly as she paused to look to Ylva, “forgive me, but I need yet another favor from you.” She moved to Fenrir’s side now, Freyja had still been lingering there, unwilling to leave him try as Hel might to encourage her to step aside. You carefully followed Hel, nervous now as you could witness both Freyja and Fenrir up close. When your eyes met Freyja’s again, your breath was caught in your chest. There it was… the same look you had seen in your vision, only now in the flesh. Hurt so deep it burned to touch. Fury roared through her glare, sharp enough to kill, as if part of her had blamed you.

“Freyja, please,” Hel said gently in an attempt to soothe her.

Finally Freyja backed away slowly, sobbing in a way you had never heard from her before, completely shattered and beyond composure. Hel turned her head so that no one could read her lips, addressing only you now, “I can fix him, I think,” she whispered. “With magics we should not be dabbling in.” Fenrir groaned, his body still convulsing from time to time. “Like all magic it will come at a cost. There will be a moment when there is a flash of light, blue in color. When it comes, I need you to reach out and grab hold of me.”

Hel swallowed hard, you’d never seen her this nervous before. “It may very well claim me,” she admitted hesitantly, “And I would understand if you chose to let me burn instead.”

Before you could answer, Hel stepped into place and began to chant something under her breath. Once. Twice. Three times now. Within mere seconds the sky roared to life, answering her call as though the two were mortal enemies and lovers at the same time. Thunder rolled in overhead as clouds churned with fury. Fenrir convulsed even worse, thrashing and kicking as if something was being torn from his very soul. “You’re hurting him—STOP!” Freyja screamed, trying to press against the storm towards the three of you. Ylva intercepted her, holding her back as best she could as the storm somehow intensified.

Hel’s eyes met Ylva’s across the chaos and corruption, black bleeding into them as wind whipped at her coat wildly. Ylva shook her head, tears streaming down her own face and now both Ylva and Freyja fought the gravity of the storm as they tried to close the gap between the two of you.

“I love you,” Hel mouthed one last time before the darkness consumed not just Fenrir, but you and Hel as well. The surrounding mountains and forest darkened as black poured from Fenrir’s body in violent waves, his screams washed away by thunder. Freyja’s voice still carried through the storm, raw with terror and heartbreak.

Hel looked to you one last time. The sorrow in her expression struck you so deeply it hollowed your chest entirely. Something about her expression only grew even more horrific as her eyes and features began to droop. As the final words left her lips the storm peaked overhead. A blinding flash of blue light burst through the pass, knocking nearly everyone over as it threatened to batter them. You would have a split second, a mere moment to decide if Hel was worth the risk. Reach out and ground her now, which could risk your own life. Or let Hel burn.

Objective:

Depict or write your Character at the center of a violent storm with Hel, on the peaks of Haldor’s Pass. Reach out and touch her, or let her burn, the choice is yours. Please make your decision clear in your entry, as your contribution to Storybook has crucial results to Hel’s fate.

Reward:

1,500 Felcredits, 1x Chest of War, Peace, Power, Knowledge, 1x Empty Vial, 3x Kryptonite Crystal*, 1x Title: Prophet*, 1x Essence of Trickery, 25% Chance for 1x Bjorn’s Mercy*

02/01/2026 - 02/28/2026 | 11:59:59PM IST

Tether of Fate

Early morning settles gently over the forest you find yourself traversing within. The mist lingers low between the treeline, thin and pale, clinging to roots and fallen leaves alike. Beads of dew delicately wrap around the many ferns and moss-softened stones, catching the first rays of morning sunshine as it filters through the canopy above. Spring is threatening to take hold of Ulfrheim, flora and herbs spouting eagerly from the once chilled earth. Somewhere deeper in the woods, a bird calls out once before falling silent again, almost as if it were waiting for the forest to wake and sing a song of echo back.

The forest smells damp with cold soil, mingling with the foliage that sprouts alongside it. You close your eyes and inhale deeply, trapping the crisp morning air within your lungs where you hold it hostage for as long as your chest can bear it. When you finally exhale and open your eyes to take the forest in, something catches your eye.

At first glance it looks like nothing more than sun on spider silk, a trick of the eye as the day blankets down upon the damp forest floor. It’s a faint shimmer close to the ground, weaving between the many roots and low bushes that line the many trees that surround you. But when the light shifts again, the shimmer holds unnaturally. A narrow glowing thread lies just ahead, pale gold and gently swaying, as though stirred by the same breeze that moved the leaves overhead.

It brightens when the sun breaks through the many branches above, only to dim when the clouds pass over, even still never vanishing entirely. Curiosity pulls you closer. With each step, the air seems to grow warmer. This light is no illusion. It burns even brighter now as you approach, more defined, hovering just above the forest floor.

For whatever reason, you feel compelled to follow it. A pull that can only be described as inevitable. Carefully you weave through the many towering oaks, the mist of the morning thinning. The sunlight above is growing stronger, spilling now freely into a small clearing ahead that wraps the edge of the mountainside like a visor. The thread is glowing brighter than ever now, its warmth pressing back against you like touching a flame without being burned. The thread rises slightly, pulling forward and upward, until it disappears into a ray of brilliance that is blinding the clearing.

The only shape you can make out is a shadowy figure. They are still, framed by the rising sun behind them, their shape dark against light. The details of the figure blur before vanishing in the glare, leaving only a subtle outline. The thread leads straight to them, burning steady and unyielding as if bursting from their very chest.

Whatever this light was meant to guide you to, whatever moment it was meant to lead you towards, it led you here. Fate in its purest form.

Objective:

Depict or write your character following a faint, shimmering thread of light that trails close to the ground. Show them tracing it to its origin, interacting with the light, or aiding the character it is attached to.

Reward:

1,000 Felcredits, 1x Long Lost Treasure, 5x Flora, 1x Berry Bush, 1x Fertility Potion, 1x Precious Gems, 1x Bloomwake Sigil

Optional:

SOULMATE BONUS: Added reward if the thread leads to your soulmate, further confirming your bond. 50% Chance for 1x Ink of Fate

01/03/2026 - 02/02/2026 | 11:59:59PM IST

Eir

Recent traces suggest Eir has been moving again, though cautiously given his timid nature. Patches of early growth have been found where snow should still linger, and a pawful of pale blue butterflies were seen drifting through the lowlands before vanishing into the trees. The signs are faint, scattered, and easy to miss; but unmistakable to those who remember the stories that were once spoken across the flickering flames of many campfires.

Eir is resting somewhere on the island, wary and withdrawn. Too much noise, too many pawsteps, or careless pursuit may drive him deeper into hiding, delaying spring as a result. Those who wish to help must move with patience, proving that Ulfrheim is still a place of safety. Everyfel is encouraged to aid Eir indirectly. This is not a creature to be chased or cornered. Eir, while friendly, is delicate.

Possible acts include leaving offerings of seeds and flora along quiet paths with Eir observing in the distance, clearing fallen debris from narrow forest passages so Eir may pass safely, or even standing watch to keep others from disturbing Eir while he is at rest. Some may choose to follow the appearance of the blue butterflies, stopping short of Eir himself, ensuring the land around him remains calm and undisturbed.

Those who encounter him directly should do so without sudden movement or raised voices. Allow Eir to decide the distance the two of you share. Showing restraint, taking a more submissive position, or simply sharing the space without expectation may be enough to calm his unease and welcome friendly interaction. Any form of aggression, trapping, or attempts to force his presence could be detrimental to his presence in the future, and equally punish Ulfrheim’s natural seasonal cycle. Eir’s trust is fragile, and once broken, may not be restored so easily. The fate of spring relies on Eir comfortably navigating Ulfrheim. Sharing in a space he feels safe and welcome to do his part.

Objective:

Depict or write your character taking a quiet action to protect, soothe, or support Eir during his time of rest, spring quickly approaching. This may be through offerings, taking care of Eir's comfort, gentle observation, or ensuring his safety from afar. Focus on patience, respect, and the understanding that help does not always require closeness nor touch.

Reward:

1,000 Felcredits, 3x Mushrooms, 3x Flora, 1x Basket of Blueberries, 1x Fresh Fertilizer