It was in the fourth week of travel that we were due to arrive in the Temini Barony, and that Corindrian finally revealed to us the nature of our visit to the north westerly edge of Moringia. Baron Darronin, who oversaw that region, had so far refused to cave to join Arimens and the wider kingdom of Moringia in that wretched war. The vast deposits of iron and coal were vital if we were to turn the tide of the war to Moringia’s favor, especially after the slaying of Zuryne and Harinia’s sudden turn of allyship to Junumianis. Our mission was to offer spellcraft and magicks to Baron Darronin and his lands, in hopes that such an offering might sway the apathetic regent to join the war effort and offer forth his vast deposits of iron and coal. We also sought the services of his smiths, for the region in which Temini Barony resided was famed for its mastery of the metal-forming arts.

There was difficulty in this mission, however, for the region we were to stay for several months was infamous among those who studied spellcraft for the killing of mages. The people of that region were deeply wary of any who practiced magicks, for several generations back the baron’s mage had partaken in necromancy, and because of that had brought much woe to the land. Once that mage’s misdeeds were uncovered (and they were many), a mob stormed the baron’s estate and carried the man to a great pillar of fire where he was set ablaze. The same fate had met many mages who practiced in that region (and now those who remained were unskilled and kept their practices a secret), and for generations the barony had not given any mage patronage due to the suspicions of magicks that clung to the Temini airs. All three of us mages knew that this mission was probably to fail, but we could not question the decisions of the council and the regent, as the regent was Corindrian’s patron, and him the patron of Ornookian and myself.

I remember clearly the day we arrived in the heart of the Temini Barony. It was just as Autumn ended and winter began. Snow had been falling for a week at that point, for in the far north snow happens even in flat places that are close to the seas. With each crossroads and settlement our carriage passed we were watched intently by suspicious eyes and frosty whispers, for it was not often a carriage from Arimens was seen that far north and that far west, and our presence had not been announced by any criars. In-fact, our presence had not even been announced to the barony, for the council feared that he might refuse the diplomatic intervention, for the baron was a virtuous man and cared for his people, and knew that contributing to the war would not bring anything of value to his people.

The closer and closer we inched towards the heart of the barony, the more pure and beautiful the woods were. Evergreen pines towered over the road, and the dusting of snow was pure-white; untainted by pollution. The sky was clear of smogs and smoke and clouds that had come to define most days in Arimens. The pure snow refused to melt into slush and mud, even after spending most days under the sun’s radiance, trodden by horses and soldiers.

As twilight laced the land and the hearths of each home shone visible through the small windows in such a way that reminded me of the village I had come from, we finally reached the wrought-iron gates of the baron’s estate. The gate was as much a symbol of wealth as it was a symbol of unwavering values: the design of each bar was florid, bearing hearts, the symbol of Paronian, whose patron is Virtue; the thirteen sided star of Mentilian, whose patron is Order; and the first letter of the old language, which is the symbol Ghalstorin whose patron is Language.

A small squad of the baron’s personal guard was at attention, and approached the carriage to ask of our business, as we were so far from Arimens and no visit had been announced. Corindrian presented the seals of both the regent of Arimens and of the king of Moringia, and spoke cautiously to the baron’s men.

“My name is Weathermaster Corindrian of the Arimensian Council of Warlocks, and I have come to the Temini Barony at the request of the regent Lord Parmentian who serves the will of the king. I cannot speak to anyone but him about our business here. If you are doubtful of this seal’s authenticity, then present it to your master and he will know with certainty we are not liars or scoundrels. Please, we have come a long way to speak with the baron.”

The guard gave a brief acknowledgement, and held us outside in the cold for several minutes as he went inside the estate to confer with the baron. Several minutes later, the Baron in all of his fur-cloaked majesty came out to the carriage to introduce himself to my master.

“Archmage Corindrian, I am Baron Darronin Temini, regent of these lands by the king’s will and ancestral right. I have heard your name before, a while back. I was not informed in advance of any visitors, and am curious to know why a mage and his apprentices were sent to my domain by the Arimensian regent. He does know of the history of the lands, does he not?”

Corindrian thought for a moment, and once more, worded his response with deep care.

“I am certain he knows his history, my lord. I am here at his request, and who am I to deny the request of the man who gives me patronage? I am aware that magicks have a reputation in these lands. Secrecy, however, was a necessity of my visit, and my status as one of the regent’s wizards was considered carefully in the decision to send me to discuss matters of diplomacy with you.”

Frost hung on the breath of everyone at the gates now, and it was clear the baron did not want to be outside for much longer, perhaps even more so than he did not want an archmage and his two apprentices within his lands. Hastily, he invited us within the estate and arranged for his staff to provide us with rooms. Ornookian was first if we could be given access to the library, for it had been a month since neither he nor I had any access to tomes of magicks to study. The baron gave his answer, annoyed at the young mage’s insistence to go searching through tomes at such a late hour.

“A library I have. Yes. However, no tomes you desire would be in there. I do not trust magicks in my halls, or my lands, and it would be best that you tread lightly in these matters while you are in my domain. If you still wish to read, all books must remain in the room. If you want to find the library or anything else in my estate: ask a servant. It’s not my duty to deal with children.”

Disappointed in the baron’s answer (and fearful to draw his wrath), Ornookian and I remained discussing late into the night. We worried the regent’s judgment was wrong, and that our mission would be unsuccessful. The baron had no want nor need of our services, and the longer we stayed the more suspicion and ire we would draw. Ornookian believed that this sojourn was Yularelian’s duty.

“Who else would send the weathermaster and his apprentices far away so he could whisper his poisonous words into the regent’s ear? Why send us out here, except to get us killed?” Ornookian spoke bitterly.

Naively I tried to reassure Ornookian that this was for the good of the kingdom, and to watch his tongue lest Corindrian scold him for his speculation.

“Ornookian, you and I both know that even if he behaves like a serpent, Yularelian has the best interests of the kingdom at heart. Him and Corindrian are friendly. I doubt that the master of vines would intend to injure his friend. You mustn't let Corindrian hear you speak like this...he would be cross. Our duty is to do what our master says, and I trust that Corindrian would not take us with him lest he knew we would be successful and kept safe.”

How innocently I spoke of friendship and country, for I had been convinced the war was not one of greed and power, but of Virtue and Order. While I will never know with certainty that Yularelian had arranged our sojourn to the bitterly cold Temini Barony, it is with age and wisdom that I can say with certainty that it benefited his schemes for power. As Ornookian and I spent many late nights discussing the purpose of our visit and our hopelessness of success Corindrian spoke in private with the virtuous baron. It was, perhaps, on a night much like this one during our stay in the Temini Barony while silent snowfall gilded the tall evergreens that Ornookian’s fate was decided next to the light of a great hearth. What prompted the baron’s sudden change of attitude to magicks, however, I will never truly know. Grateful I was, however, that he was still a virtuous man when we secured his commitment to the war of greed and power.