The greatest of the greenfolk, the treehuggers, Nature's knights, the bark warriors and twig fiends, the leaf wraiths and elder trees, were called the Druids. They came from many races, many peoples, many professions and many lifestyles, and yet all shared a common trait, they loved nature at its rawest. From the hardy Subdir, Dwarves and Trell that fell in love with the mountains to the fierce Subfira, Shieth, Flenie that inhabit the heat of the deserts and heart of volcanoes. When an outside force threatened their domain, they retaliated, bringing to bear the sublime power of nature itself. Creatures of all, coming to lend aid and deflect invaders after rich materials. But many Druids were more than just that, they were a powerful people, though each unique. One might hold the key to Earth itself, where another might be a legend in a faraway land known for his prowess with the blade or gun. None know with certainty their origins or what earned them their titles, or perhaps even their overarching purpose through protecting nature, none even know their what exactly their connection to Nature even as either. They are a powerful mystery, mystics capable of appearing and wreaking havoc on those that march on sacred groves, mages in their own right, men and women of power and protection.

-Handbook to Magic: A Beginner's Guide to Beginning, pg 657.

The Frozen Zones were harsh and unforgiving as they were beautiful and pristine. Although it may have once seemed that she was a city girl, accustomed to the luxuries and lifestyle of urban living, she looked nothing like that now. Not that she was ever as restricted by her habits as she may have seemed.

The body before lay lightly frosted, a chilling blue tint to the skin. She didn't know how long this stranger had been dead or who had killed him. Him? Her? She couldn't decide. The fur coat the body wore was, in fact, a natural part of the body, bloodied by some unknown cudgel. The remains lay scattered about, the legs nowhere nearby.

Bodies were familiar, and ironically, this was the most comfort she's had since she arrived. Dead bodies were always in the city.

She shrugged, ducking out of the cave entrance to howls of silver wolves. The moon shone above, eerie light reflecting like clear water off the snow of the mountain.

"Sniped, Jerxos, stranded on a mountain." She said sarcastically. "What a life I live."

She had performed well in her impartation, somewhat peeved to learn that so did everyone else. Jerxos had been especially quiet about Luck and her mother's impartations. It wasn't against the rules to know evidently, but that didn't mean he had to tell her. It was like her father to keep her out of the loop, still thinking she was a child. She loved the man to death but she wasn't an idiot. The man had some kind of dark past, no matter what he said.

Tate snorted, frost coming off her breath.

Snowshoes, created from a multitool of bonded, shiftable metal. An enchanted metal, she was told. "Able to withstand a blast from a seasoned fire mage." She recalled, willing the leftover metal to slide over her arm into a brace.

"A fire mage? Magic metal?" She shook her head. She looked at its surface, floating from a tendril off her arm. "Omnitanium."

Tate had already accepted the fact. She was given a second chance and she would take it. She would thank Luck when she saw him. The adopted loser might actually feel bad to have watched her die. She gave a bittersweet smile to no one.

The shiftable omnitanium was apparently a rare occurring natural magic metal. Physically, the metal was insignificant aside from its hardness and perhaps its light weight. Magically, at least according to the System, which Jerxos had remembered to explain at the last minute, it was an anomaly. It was near sentient magic, and yet its magical and physical structure prevented just that. Apparently, Tate was carrying an obscene amount of omnitanium, nearly two cubic feet of it. It required touch to operate but a powerful enough specialized mage could bond the metal to a person and Tate had just that happen to her. She didn't need touch to control it. She was in possession of a fortune.

Tools he called them. And this one definitely was the tool to end all tools.

Responding to her thought, the omnitanium, an orb of metallic glob currently, reformed to various weaponry she remembered from her father's collection. To the knife, her mother always carried, to the guns her brother loved. The potential it held was like the deepest parts of the ocean. Depth and mystery, unlimited possibility. It glided across her skin like the tide, a silent surf. It flowed up her shirt and around her torso. Snowshoes and armor for now.

Her heading was south.

Her steps were silent, leaving large shallow prints easily hidden by light snow. She felt a familiar tiredness as the metal responded to her will and warmed her body. She was still concerned by the feeling but was fairly certain it was her mana.

Empty mountain surrounded her. The type of setting steps away from a hiking trail. A hidden beauty just as dangerous in its solitude. Snow mostly. She was high up. A drift of snow could just as easily be covering one of the multitudes of ice caverns she often found in the ground and walls of the mountain. There were no trees here, no plant life, only snow and the looming mountains to either side of her. But, occasionally she would come across her saving grace. A bush, just a bush, but it had berries and was what she had been sustained upon for the past week.

She eyed the ledges of snow above, not wondering for the first time whether someone or something was watching her as she came across another bush. Tate knew there were people living up here though everything she saw denied the possibility. Why else would she have found a body?

"I'd be more comfortable if they just up and attacked me." Tate muttered, crouching down and foraging berries. The absence of berries lower on the plant hint to some other type of foragers. "If they're even there and I'm not finally succumbing to madness."

She sighed, raising her head from her task.

Then, becoming as still as the mountain, she saw it. Covered in snow and frost like everything else, a giant made of rocks stood. She would've mistaken it for an odd pile of rocks if she hadn't seen it move just an inch. But no, it wasn't covered in snow. It was snow. And it was moving, a rough imitation of two legs and arms without a head.

She frowned, looking around.

This pass was the only way south and she had been following it for a day. She had to get through. Denying this chance might lead to her final death, she had come here with no food. If Tate were being honest she wouldn't have thought she could survive for an entire week as she did. The omnitanium allowed her that. But it couldn't do everything. Food came never. Tate was always scavenging, tasting frozen berries and competing with unseen foragers.

She looked down at her covered metal arm. Could she do it? The metal shifted and blurred, forming from amorphous globs, undefined to sharp geometric shapes, sleek forms to bulky blocks. Her imagination worked in tandem with the omnitanium it formed and reformed as her thoughts impacted its behavior.

Her hand grasped the middle of the moving metal, her new weapon forming around it. The handle, smooth and simple with a trigger. The stock, to be pressed to the shoulder or held at the hip. The gas tank, the lighter, the barrel. A destructive weapon capable of well damaging a forest environment. Sleek, deadly and dangerous. Tate’s mind came up with many things but this above all seemed most effective.

It was dangerous though. Explosives, firearms, chemical weapons, the omnitanium adapted and created as well as it could. Though, Tate felt the drain from these weapons in comparison to say, a sword or shield. For something like a flamethrower, especially one of the sort that Tate now hefted, the drain on herself would be large when she shot with it.

That tiredness, that sluggishness that followed exerting her will upon the omnitanium was damn dangerous. If she let herself fall under a certain cognition her mind would be too tired to keep the omnitanium staying warm. She had no idea as of yet as to how to automate it.

Her head tilted toward her target.

Approaching with a delicate grace, her grip on the weapon increased by a fraction. She was not as used to participating in combat as her brother or father, and, now thinking about it, she was probably less experienced than her mother as well. Her finger traced the sleek design, an irony on such a destructive weapon. It was ergonomic, easy to grip.

Her breath was steady, a cool frost. Her feet found their footing with almost practiced precision. Light brown eyes were unwavering, taking in every detail. Tate was ready to react, seeing everything. She was in its blind spot evidently. The pile of snow and ice, upon second glance, was eerily human. A torso, arms, and legs formed a rough bipedal body. But there was an absence of a head and its blank features gave it an unnerving oddity. It both belonged here in the pristine snow and somewhere in a museum. Tate noted the hands and feet which gave the distinct impression that the direction the enemy was facing was a coin toss.

The sound of an avalanche wasn't so much a crash as it was a sudden, frantic crescendo of sound. A rough rumbling muffled by snow permeated the air as the golem of ice and snow turned towards Tate. Somehow, Tate knew it stared directly at her.

In the next second, she may have lost her eyebrows.

"Die! Die! Die! Motherfucker!" She roared, a blazing inferno at odds with the size of her weapon engulfing the golem's arm.

Her screams echoed across the mountain, rebounding off walls of ice she couldn't see. The golem's rumbling overtook her noise. It stumbled backward, stomping heavily on the snow. Plumes of snow erupted forward and from the sides of Tate, aiming to engulf her. But she was no fool. She repositioned and kept her weapon trained on target.

The snow body of the golem, large and intimidating refused to fully melt even after exposure to this level of blaze. It rumbled loudly, turning her way, or so she thought. And it ran, right into the flames. It was only seconds later she realized what it was doing.

Tate screamed, scalding water splattering across her exposed skin. She didn't let go. The pain only pulled the trigger harder. And off into the distance, something answered that pain, howls from above. Haunting howls piercing as her pain, yet more ominous than she'd care to admit. Her mind sharpened, the golem was half melted at the torso having given up its legs and parts of its arms to disable her.

She could still move.

An opening in the torso. "Hey! What the fuck? There's a person in there!" She yelled, turning her weapon to the golems midsection.

In the next minutes, the snow golem, for all a wonder of magic it may be, tried to pathetically run away. It's melted arms and legs could do nothing, near instantly freezing to the snowscape. Blue robes peeked from the hole in the torso and Tate was thinking she might just have encountered another human being.

"Hey! What the fuck are you doing in there?" She yelled.

A furious, rough voice answered. "Do you know what you've just done you insolent girl? You've just destroyed months of my work!" He yelled, ducking out of his golem.

He wore blue robes, Tate confirmed it as he rose his arm, trailing blue cloth following the motion.

"You-"

Shards of ice formed in the air around him. They jetted towards Tate with a sharp tinkling. She simply held her finger down and melted them mid-air. He growled, stepping back and trying again. They melted again. Next, pillars of ice came from beside him, aiming for her. She melted them too.

"Is that all you have, you dick?" She taunted, hiding her tiredness. She was a little too pissed to be dealing with other people right now.

The man was exhausted, and yet he still threw another wave of ice attacks. His shivering hands grasped at the air before waving in an arc toward her. Melted. All of them. He stood trembling, either from cold or exhaustion. Tate felt the same way. She was coming up on her mana limit. A few strokes of fire throwing and she'd be out.

"Are you here to kill the wyvern too?" He squinted at her. "To steal my quest? Blasted fools! How did the information leak so fast?"

The man was a stocky figure with perfect posture. Clad in blue robes it was a surprise he could endure the cold. To Tate, he practically screamed ice mage. His hair was gray and his teeth were perfectly white to go with his pale skin. Of note, the individual was actually human aside from the various other races of people that might've been hidden in that snow golem.

"I'm passing to Ardun. I'm not here to steal your damn quest."

"You're holding magitech." He stated bluntly. "Powerful stuff, too. You're telling me you aren't hunting frost wyverns with that?" He growled, suspicious. His eyes alighted on her weapon but showed no outward recognition of its properties.

"So what if I am? You wanna try to take it from me?" Tate said pissed. "And I'm not here to hunt your fucking wyverns."

He blinked, having realized something. "Wait, you're heading to Ardun from the Frozen Zones? You're not returning from the Zones, but coming from them? Where's your party? Adventurers don't travel the Zones alone, its suicide from the north. Maybe if you were an ice mage... but even then." He said in surprise. Then he immediately became suspicious. "What's a Pure Human doing out here? Yeah, that's right, I recognize my own. Don't expect any different treatment. Humans don't live north. " He questioned, gaining momentum.

Tate gave him a flat look and the man looked temporarily confused. "How about, instead of all this questioning, I just burn you alive right here right now. Or have you forgotten who's exhausted, sitting in their sad pile of melted snow and ice that used to be a months worth of work?" Tate casually moved her finger to the trigger of her flamethrower, the tip ever so slowly moving to face him. "I'll remind you stranger, it's you."

The man jerked in place, angry and suspicious as he was, he shut up. Instead, he tried a different track. His wary focus never left the lighter of her flamethrower, its flickering flame both blue and orange. "Names Mark. Ice mage and martial artist. I'm from a mage guild in Ardun." He said cautiously, clearly not stupid. "We got off on the wrong foot."

"Great, goodbye." And Tate made to leave, turning around in the snow to traverse the pass towards Ardun.

The man called after her only two steps later. "Do you even know where you're going? There are multiple forks down that road. You'll never make it to Ardun without getting lucky." He stated calmly, sitting unbothered in the cold snow. He eyed Tate as she paused and turned around. "What's your name?"

"Tate Lockyer." She scowled. "And you're taking me to Ardun."

"Well Tate, if you recall all the howling earlier from your screaming burned face, we've got company in say, ten minutes. And trust me, if you aren't encased in a snow golem you're gonna want help." He said standing himself up. Mark seemed comfortable covered in snow. Tate watched his movements with dull interest. He was staring at her face and chest. Tate rolled her eyes before Mark spoke. "Your burns, I'm staring at your burns. Don't get too full of yourself there, girl. Let me take care of them, it's obvious you're not who I thought you were. By the time I realized you weren't, you were intent on destroying me."

"If you make any sudden moves you're a pile of ash lost in the snow, got it?"

He nodded. Vivid, vibrant blue snow formed, he pointed it out just in case Tate got spooked. "I'll put them on your burns and you should heal up fine, no scarring. Classic post battle medical treatment after fighting fire. Every ice mage worth his snow knows it." The soothing chill was surprising, Tate was expecting a chilling freeze. Instead, her inflamed skin relaxed.

"Thank you." She said, touching the snow cautiously. Harmless.

"Don't mention it. You'll need it for this next part. There's no use fighting each other in the Zones if there's no reason." He said ominously, he was staring upward to the ledges of ice and snow above. "Yep, there's one. Get ready. Cover your ears girl."

"Wh-"

Howling. A dome of sound in which they were the center. They'd been surrounded by an unknown beast. An unknown number too. She shouldn't be caught too off guard though, she had had an acclimation in form of the impartation. She was ready for whatever appeared. But the howling didn't stop, they compounded each other as they bounced off the mountain in parts she knew was solid ice, some aspect of their sound screaming it. The sounds were like shattering glass or an echoing tinkling of wind chimes made or frozen liquid.

Mark was inspecting his melted golem. "They won't come down for now. They'll wait until we're off guard or too tired to keep moving. Icil Wolves, if we're lucky. Something worse if we aren't. Come on, I'll take you to Ardun."

"What else lives out here?" Tate asked, not ever having moved her weapon away. Her ears were ringing.

Mark glanced at her trigger finger before answering. "Not much, but who knows now? The update might have changed things. The Icil Wolves are one, a multitude of small foragers and of course, somewhere, there's a wyvern waiting to be slain."

He was talking about the System update she received. It listed what small amount of tools she had on her person and her capabilities. Apparently, the world was more dangerous than it had been. But in the Zones where she had been reborn, it affected her little. Nothing changed, no quests were updated, she didn't have any. No attacks, nothing.

But then she remembered something.

"There was a body further up. A furred man. Dead by blunt weaponry, left preserved by the cold in the entrance of an ice cavern. His legs were gone." She recalled. "Does anyone live out here?"

Mark rubbed his chin. "Grey fur, looks like a coat?"

"Yeah, I looted him for frozen berries." Tate reached into a metal pouch, compliments of her omnitanium, and popped one in her mouth.

He eyed the berries with a sad look. "That would be, ironically, my colleague Greyfur. He loved that stuff." He grimaced pain in his eyes. "He left a month before me. We assumed he was just taking his time. Evidently, he died somehow. No one's explored the Zones in any great effort since the update. It's often ignored, the other areas West, East, and South had all the attention. The Dunes, Krukon and Snakes Way would probably yield the most interesting enemies for any seeking power. Damn Greyfur." He explained before gritting his teeth and shaking his head. "He was a brilliant mage."

More howling.

Tate gave a wary glance up to the ledges above, the howling could just have easily come from there as the other side of the mountain, such were the acoustics of the Zones. She wasn't used to being so bare and vulnerable. No set backup or fallback. No phone to call for help, no number to dial. No one to watch her back.

Her omnitanium lost its flamethrower form and melded to her body to become armor once again. A small effort of will that felt more difficult than it should have been, likely a result of her mana exhaustion, warmed her body.

Mark noticed this. "You're heating yourself. What manner of enchanted weaponry is that?"

"An artifact from my travels. Soulbound to me, so don't get any ideas less I burn your face off."

"Never. The thought didn't cross my mind. There is little use of fire for a man devoted to the snow." Mark replied, plucking something from the corpse of his golem and hurriedly hiding it. "Let us leave. The faster to Ardun the better."

Tate followed him, the mage somehow walking across the snow without sinking an inch deep. Tate's snowshoes were effective but nowhere close to what the mage was pulling off. He ambled towards the pass, coming close to steep icy cliffs that disappeared into frozen caverns below. Tate followed.

"Why were you here of all places searching for the wyvern?" Tate asked.

Mark pointed below, bits of snow falling off the edges of the pass and into the abyss. "That there, from my studies, is perfect for wyvern nesting. Although Earth and Ice Wyverns tend to create their own nests so their behavior and location are harder to define." He explained. "From my knowledge, only a few people that received the quest are capable or idiotic enough to try for it. An Ice mage like myself has the advantage in the Frozen Zones but so does a wyvern of ice. I was lying in wait to challenge the beast, hoping it might make itself known. The draconic cousins are territorial, you see, if it saw me I was bound to have a battle." He walked along the edge of the pass, void of fear. His stocky figure was as still as the ice around him as he gazed downward.

Tate walked closer to the center. "How far is Ardun?"

"Together we might take a week, maybe less depending on the weather," Mark replied.

The path they walked was high above any other crossing between the mountain. Once they passed the gorges that fell right into the mountain they had a clear view of the mountain's base. Below, there was a valley, and unlike at their altitude, she could spot blue, fragile plants sprouting there. More icy caves dotted the landscape below. Still, it was void of anything.

"We'll have better views to come," Mark said. "But enough, what is a fellow human doing traveling the Frozen Zones alone? How long have you been out here?"

"I'm searching for my family. Chances are they're at Ardun. I've been out here a week traveling roughly south ever since." Tate recalled.

"Your whole family are adventurers then?" Tate noticed Mark say the word with a certain inflection as if the term meant something more.

"They're all damn capable and dangerous that's for sure." Tate shrugged. "I know they'll make it there, wherever they are. At least, that's what my sources tell me."

Mark nodded. "Here." And suddenly the snow under her feet became denser. She walked without the odd waddle she had been doing for the past week. "We're stuck together now. You destroyed my greatest protection against the natural hazards in the Zones and with the unknowns of the update who knows what might appear."

Tate grinned ruefully. "Sorry."

Mark seemed to stare at her smile for a moment too long, before raising an unamused eyebrow. "I made no outward moves of aggression. I simply stared in surprise at a fellow traveler before I was bombarded by flames. Not many make it to this altitude without dying you know." He waved. "No matter, that was not the first nor the last golem I'll make in my lifetime. I've lost them to much more ridiculous situations before."

"Oh? For example?" She asked, curious.

The next hour was spent recalling stories. Tate mostly listened to Mark's icy experiments. The man sounded more scientist than mage and that comparison fascinated her. He was part of a guild of mages in Ardun primarily focused on the element of Ice. The guild had formed as a consequence of the Frozen Zones and forays into its depths were both common and frequent.

Perhaps the most interesting detail about the mage was his devotion to the martial arts. Tate hadn't pictured a physicality with magic. Yet the man boasted a healthy body and claimed to have trained at the highest point of the Frozen Zones before. The man practiced martial magic, melding the casting of magic with the movements of your body.

Tate didn't take the man for one to bloat. He seemed humble and laid back, and if that were the case, then the man wasn't lying when he told her he was somewhat of a master in the martial arts. Less so in his chosen magical art. He was an odd case in the magical community, but well respected. Not many had the devotion he had to either of his practices, let alone enough drive to meld them together.

"And yours?" He asked.

"I practiced in deception, spy work, information gathering and a slew of other skills. Though, I question their effectiveness in another city. Only time will tell." She noticed Mark tense up. "Calm down. You found me as a traveler and that's what I am. That, all of it, is in a past life now. My family is a group of dangerous individuals and we were given a second chance. Whatever I was in the past is not what I am now." She shrugged, catching a snowflake in her hand.

She looked upwards but noticed Mark looking up and into the distance further north.

"Blizzard soon. We should find an empty cave to wait it out." He explained, shaking snow out of his hair. Tate didn't even notice he was as covered in the stuff as he was. She realized she was as well. "I believe one my guild outposts are around here, in fact."

"Lead the way." She gestured, looking around.

Mark seemed to be leading her towards an often used natural cavern. At least, from the details and landmarks he kept pointing out, that's what it seemed like. Though that was getting harder by the minute. Snow began to fall harder and with that the silence of the mountain disappeared behind the whistle of the blizzard.

"Mage ice!" He yelled over the howling snow. He was pointing towards light blue footprints, that upon closer inspection were unnautral. "They lead the way to a guild sanctuary up here!"

"Sounds good!" Tate yelled, nothing but the sound of his voice to guide her. But even that was lost among the snowfall. The marked ice was nearly covered as Tate lost sight of Mark. "Where are you?" She called out, staying in place. "Mark?"

A loud growl, startling against the howl of the blizzard, broke her focus. It came from her right, amid the wall of falling snow. Visibility was low. She couldn't see past a few feet in front of her.

Then something barreled into her torso. Pressure against her ribs. A dagger, already forming lunged towards her unseen attacker. Tate looked down to find a growling wolf chomping on her side. Her omnitanium saved her. It yipped, trying to rip her apart. A dagger to the eye ended its life.

Another howl and this time Tate was ready. A bo staff formed, a defensive weapon fitting for her situation, and she smacked the wolf away. This one was smaller, brilliant silver fur taunted her. The beauty was at odds with its ferocity. It leaped forward, claws out and ripping towards her throat. Tate caught the wolf on her staff and pushed it off. She spun suddenly and slammed her staff hard on the wolf's head. The metal staff was enough to spray grey matter across the snow.

There was growling, howling, yipping and barks all around her. Silver fur flashing almost indistinguishable against the white of the snowfall. They'd come in twos and threes but Tate was skilled enough in the bo staff to deflect and bruise with efficiency. But if it was a game of attrition, she would lose. She was near to changing her tactics to aggression when she heard him.

"Enough!" A rough voice yelled.

A blast of wind parted the storm in a circle. Tate rose an arm to shield her eyes as her hair flew backward. In the middle, Mark stood hands out. Slowly, his guard went up and Tate saw what he was facing. Across from him, amid the eye of the storm, were three wolves. More lay dead around him. Some with icicles piercing their chests and heads and others simply lay limp with broken limbs.

All not ten feet from her.

Eyes on the enemy were just what she needed. Bullets didn't take much out of her and in seconds she had her favorite pistol trained on the forehead of the lead wolf. Her omnitanium glimmered, frost covered before she let out three successive shots. They all died instantly.

Mark jumped at the noise watching the wolves fall over. He looked at Tate for a moment before waving her over "This way!" He gestured behind him. Tate saw him concentrate a moment before the blizzard pushed back a little more and a cave was revealed. "The sanctuary!"

Tate, unsurprisingly, hurried over.

Mark stood by the entrance, a portal of ice and snow indistinguishable from the rest. He ushered her in and the noise of the blizzard died down immediately. Mark stared at the swirling vortex of cold outside for a few moments before nodding. The way in slowly began to fill with snow.

He turned around, light blue eyes regarding her. The sound of dripping water encompassed them. "Thanks, let's head in. We can rest a few hours. That'll be enough to get us to the next sanctuary further down the mountain." He ducked under some icicles and lead the way, glowing ice and snow his guide.

He reminded her of her father. Capable, strong, driven and intelligent. Tate smiled a fraction, she missed him. Her thoughts moved to the encounter outside. "Icil Wolves?" She asked.

"Yes, a small pack of them thankfully." He responded. "Anything more would be too much to keep track of. Although your weaponry there might've changed the encounter. Nice piece of magic, that." He pointed.

In her right hand, still perfectly formed, was a sleek pistol. The barrel and grip contoured perfectly to fit in her hand. The other mechanisms of the device she knew inside and out and was perhaps the reason the weapon took so little of her mana when used. It melted back up her arm.

"It's useful, I'll give you that." She nodded, ducking under a low tunnel entrance. She had to watch her footing. The ice was slippery. Mark was unaffected.

"I won't argue there." He said eyeing the metal. They came across a small alcove carved from solid ice, set right into the tunnel walls. "Here we are." He gestured, immediately making himself at home.

What initially Tate took for a sculpture of ice was in actuality a fully functioning room. Chairs of ice cushioned with snow, a fireplace made of blue ice, shelves filled with books bound with dark blue spines, and more. And the alcove wasn't small as she thought. There were tunnels leading deeper.

"Welcome to one of the Magice sanctuaries. That's my guild's name by the way. Magice." He said. "Have a seat. Make yourself warm. The snow is peaceful in here."

Tate did so. She expected cold as she sat down but the chair was surprisingly neutral. Neither hot or cold, which is to say warm compared to the rest of the room. "Magice? Your guild made these hideouts?" Her eyes roved across the space, landing on the books above. She read the spines idly. The Properties of Snow in Magic, The Perfect Crystal Ice, Creating a Golem, On Snow as a Construct, and more.

"Carved them, actually. They aren't secret but only someone versed in snow could get in safely. They're quite the convenience in harsh environments of cold and hail. The Frozen Zones, as a result, are pockmarked with them. Magice is somewhat invested in the exploration of cold areas of interest." He sat, sparking the fireplace with some flint and steel, Tate somewhat amused he couldn't just create a flame with all the magic he'd been showcasing.

The fire was roaring in minutes and Tate noticed that the ice surrounding it wasn't melting. She was lost in the flames for a few minutes. She yawned, realizing how time flew. She blinked and looked towards Mark.

He waved. "Get some sleep, we're fine in here." He said, rolling over on his chair. "You'll need it."

Some amount of hours passed when Tate woke up. Her chair was vibrating and she enjoyed the sensation up until the first book fell off its shelf. A sphere of perfect ice instantly formed around the book as soon as it hit the floor, crystalizing it completely.

Mark jerked up. "What happened?" He shook the bleariness from his eyes, focusing on the book encased in a sphere of ice. "Did you touch it?" He asked.

"Couldn't have from over here." Tate said absently. She was focusing on the vibration. Where was it coming from?

"Ice trapped. Protection against thieves should they gain entry." He explained, placing the book in its correct place, the sphere melting as he did. "What's that vibration?" He said finally.

He closed his eyes for a moment before they hardened into a grimace. "Intruders."

Then there was a huge crash of icicle and snow from one of the tunnels.

Tate leaped out her chair, twin pistols forming in her hands pointing at the doorway. Her breathing was slightly agitated. No more sound. The tunnel entrance was eerily silent, nothing past the curve of its path.

Tate, hesitantly, lowered her weapons.

Something moved.

Her eyes darted back. Silver metal blasted through the air. She raised her weapon near instantly. Her finger triggered twice from each gun. The pinging of metal echoing loud in the alcove.

A dented orb fell to the floor. Whatever it was, it had just flown at alarming speeds out of the tunnel, jetting across the gap in mere seconds. Tate's training was the only thing that saved her. Looking at it, it could've taken her head off.

"What is this?" She kicked at it, even as more crashes came from around them. It was impossible to tell where exactly they came from in the icy tunnels. The echoes were throwing everything off. "You seen these up here before?" She reached down to inspect.

Shards of orange light ripped into existence around each of its limbs.

"I've never-" Mark was just turning around before he snapped to attention, wide-eyed. "Down! Now!" He threw his arms wide and a globe of ice frosted over the lights, separating Tate from their glow.

Tate scrambled backward, her omnitanium flowing forward into a wall. An explosion rocked her senses, she stumbled to the side. Her vision went black before she opened it to shattered ice. The floor beneath her had cracked, visible fracture lines running across and through.

"Mark?" She let down her metal, surveying the room.

There was a pile of snow that wasn't there previously, piled up against the far wall, under the bookshelves. It groaned loudly. "What the fuck? What the hell are these? My ice barrier barely contained that. I had no time to shield the bottom portion." He burst out of the snow in a spray of powder, Tate not for the first time wondering of his tolerance to the cold.

Tate glanced at him. "I don't think your sanctuary is as safe as you thought it was. Is this your first time up in the Zones since the update?" She moved over to the remainder of the ice globe, ruffling through the remains. The body of the orb was still slightly intact, the pieces missing were nearby. "Because these things are not playing around."

"It's my first but there've been others before me. They noted no changes, especially not any as drastic as this. New threats are reported immediately in Magice. They're a stickler for updates regarding the cold." He shooked snow from his hair, his eyes seemed a shade darker to Tate as they examined the remains of the enemy. "Bladed limbs. It's got some type of mechanical propulsion. But see these?" He poked at some multicolored crystals peeking out of its rent torso with an icicle. "Mana crystals, crude ones, probably manufactured in large amounts. Hmm, interesting. Mechanical propulsion fueled by a magical power source. The self-destruct sequence had purged all of its power and, I'm thinking, was to erase any remains in the event of hostile research. Ice preserves, however."

"Let's move, Mark." Tate replied simply. "I can hear more jetting around the tunnel walls. The travel back to Ardun might have just gotten a lot more complicated if your havens are compromised. Trust me, I know the feeling." The man was crouched over the metal body, curshing ice in his hands and looking around.

"It's probably safer outside." He said.

"My thoughts exactly. Even in the blizzard."

"The blizzard's died down." He said without any outward way of knowing. "Visibility will be low but we won't be knocked out with any hail. We've just got to watch for the wolves. They hunt in blizzards if they're desperate, but who knows what they're doing with these metal spheres running around."

Tate nodded, taking a deep breath. Mark lead the way, the blizzard was still muffled but the sound got louder, echoed further, as they approached their exit. The jetting of air could be heard just under it, evidence of the orbs scouting the haven. Tate didn't know the extent of the tunnels, but at points in their walk, it would seem as if the sound was coming from four different directions at once. She could easily get lost in these tunnels without a guide.

"Are we not taking the same route?" She asked since they hadn't passed a near crystal clear tunnel last time.

"Oh, you've noticed? Not many pay attention to the ice when they visit. You're right. We're heading to another exit, it'll save us a few hours. As of right now, we're piercing right through the mountain." His posture was just as powerful as it had been when she'd seen him hours earlier. He seemed unfazed by the encounter minutes earlier.

"Thank you. For leading me to the city." Tate's voice bounced off the now mirror-like ice. "If you betray me though, I have no qualms killing you."

It was the first time she saw herself in this world. Her brunette hair, given by her mom, was still as wavy as it had always been, if not a bit frizzy and covered in frost. Her face hadn't changed, still round, soft and bright. Light brown eyes beamed with intelligence and competence. Her figure harbored the curvature of her mother as well, just enough as to not get in the way of a life of activity. The ice was a perfect reflection.

While perfect, it did nothing to reveal the many battle scars she harbored under her clothing. Her face miraculously was unmarred and she humbly considered it a plus. It was deceptive. Yes, she had trained with the same teachers as Luck but she had foregone safety equipment. Her elder brother, in her opinion, was too complacent even with the stunts he pulled. Tate lead a different life and her family had never faulted her for it.

Mark chuckled. "Friendly company's hard to find in the mountain. You're not the first adventurer I've helped to Ardun. And I'm not the type to betray. " He said pointedly, his footsteps loud in the tunnel. The jetting of the orbs were small whispers now.

"You've helped others then? Noble." Tate said, only half-meaningfully.

Mark raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm up here a lot, might as well."

"Is that why you're so unfazed by a near death explosion?"

"Sounds about right. I've had my fair share of dances with death. We're no strangers." He answered. "How about you miss? Not often someone so young doesn't even blink at that, let alone take on two icil wolves by herself, then killing three more. Doesn't seem like the combat potential of an info hawk. Spywork and deception can only get you so far in actual combat."

"I had a very demanding family, or rather family business." She shrugged. "Suffice to say I've learned a thing or two from it."

"It seems we're both more than what we seem then." Mark replied, confident in his path, even winding through the tunnels.

"You aren't still worried I'm out to get you are you?" Tate asked, squeezing through a particularly tight pass.

"Ardun has little enemies. It has nothing to hide. A spy, if you were one, wouldn't amount to much in the city. As for me personally, I'm fairly confident I can incapacitate you in seconds. If not by ice then by hand." He answered. "Besides, there are very little parties that find Magice's research interesting or valuable. In the end, like in most of my encounters up here, I've decided to trust you. An olive branch usually settles any misgivings or mistrust, and soon I discover I'm just ushering another adventurer to Ardun, plain and simple." His hand brushed against the icy cavern walls.

Tate respected that. It wasn't a usual practice for her, trusting people outright. More Luck's method, really. Perhaps somewhat sadly, she wasn't raised to trust. She was taught social tells and maneuverings to detect deceit and misdirection. Luck was eventually the one who showed her to accept people for people, despite their motivations. She had been so trained in seeing lies she blinded herself to the people true to her.

Meeting new people was a dangerous practice. But, then again, here no one knew who she was or what she represented. She could reasonably assume anyone's actions towards her were genuine whether they be friendly or hostile.

It was refreshing and liberating.

She chuckled when she noticed her reflection had a bright smile across her face. "Thank you, again. It's nice to have some help."

Mark, still feeling the ice, responded. "Don't mention it. I'm heading back anyways, from there I can point you to where you want to be. It's been a silent two weeks since I got the quest and no sign of the wyvern, about time I returned."

Tate watched Mark's footing as they came across a small flight of steps. Chunks of snow loosened as they climbed. Mark gestured into the air ahead and a mound of snow cleared away an opening.

Tate peered outside. The blizzard was weaker on this side of the mountain but visibility was still at a minimum. Faintly, Tate could hear noises in the distance. Thunder, booming below the whistling of the snow.

"Is that common here?" Her voice was raised to combat the snow. "Lightning?" She yelled.

"Not at this altitude. Up higher over the lava lakes, maybe." Mark said, which was a surprise in itself, that lava was present at this temperature. "That's not natural lightning! For a storm, there needs to be heat and cold! Even this close to the Dunes the temperature is cut off!"

Ah, the sweltering desert that nearly nothing can live in. Jerxos had mentioned it briefly. The polar opposite to the Zones, nestled right up against it.

The soft crunching of snow alerted them to a presence to their left.

"Shhh." Tate signaled, pointing at a larger metal variant of the orbs earlier.

Her companion followed her gesture. Mark's eyes hardened into suspicion as he laid eyes on it. Heavy arms barreled through the snow. A strong chest and torso connected to small hips with wide feet. It, like most everything in view, was covered in snow, piling up along its front. Plumes of snow erupted as it charged by. It obviously wasn't a local to the Zones.

The entrance of their tunnel was under an overhanging ledge of solid ice and rock. From there, they were snowed in up to their chests. But the snow was deeper than that, extending four or five more feet below. They were left enough of a window to view the mechanical anomaly between the wall of snow and the overhang. Mark had only cleared the snow immediate to the opening. It was like a baseball dugout, the term only coming to her from her forced viewing of barside TVs. Icicles hung low from the ceiling, their faces distorted and magnified as they peeked through them.

"There." Mark pointed towards a curve around jutting stone. The man had shoved his foot into the snow wall to get a better view. "I can sense the temperature change there. They're coming out of a cave, if I'm right." Another one came around, using the same path as the previous but still having to shoulder snow replaced by the blizzard.

"We should find another way around them. It doesn't look like we'll make it past here without a fight and with them coming out of there by the minutes it's not one I'm confident we'll win."

Mark nodded, but just as they were about to turn around there was a scrabbling of claws on the ice above them and something leaped forward, landing in a heap of snow. Something like a streak of color zipped among the plume of powder, lighting it oddly. Visibility was low in this blizzard.

Mark's voice was a sharp, urgent and quiet. His hand covered Tate's mouth while his other glowed with cold magic. "Shar. Keep your mouth shut and don't move."

It took Tate a few seconds longer than Mark to figure out what she was looking at. A deadly predator. Its dark green matte fur hinted it was out of its element, but here, in this blizzard, it didn't need camouflage. Its head craned upwards following the zipping form, blurred by the blizzard, until it alighted onto its back.

A moment clear of snow, the wind whipping just so, and Tate was able to see it.

A dragon, a mix between the eastern and western types. Sky-blue that pierced the snow with clarity. Its head turned to stare, alerting towards the lumbering figures barely visible now. The cat growled, showing teeth.

Down the mountain thunder rumbled, dull ringing accompanied it. Still faint, but somehow, now much more stark. Both the cat and the dragon craned their heads towards the noise before looking at each other.

That was when Tate saw the shar's eyes and her heart shook.

Amber.