“The north of the continent is a fairly uncomfortable place, at first glance. Not only the winters are of a particularly evil nature here, but its people also seem to come from hell itself. The rumours about demons inhabiting the towns have more truth in them than I'd like to admit, but behind their grotesque appearance, they are as mundane as the regular Imperial citizen. The novice eye will notice that all the northern people look absurdly fat, while in reality they are merely covered in a lot of very thick layers of fur. Take into account the horns, tails, slit pupils and whatnot, and you end up with a city of obese-looking demons. Then they wave at you with a warm smile. Truly frightening. No wonder tourism is bad around these parts.

-Anonymous traveller”

* * *

Jormas

Jormas kept rolling over in his tent, trying to sleep. He couldn't, for all his attempts were lulled by the peaceful noise of a hundred people snoring, emulating the sound of an army of lumberjacks trying to take down a forest as fast as they could.

Jormas couldn't sleep in such circumstances, so he exited the tent and went to sit by one of the fires. Soon, he would not be able to do that, because each day was getting colder. For now, covered in thick fur, the night still felt chilling, but not to the point of threatening to make his toes fall.

As he sat close to the campfire, he noticed the kid Azcheron and that girl Erin, next to another fire not far from here. He got up, walked toward the two, and called out to them in a low voice.

“Are you two on watch duty tonight ?”

Azcheron looked at him and replied in a snarky voice. “Good evening, Jormas. Can't sleep ? I wonder the reason. Why don't you join us ?”

The kid handed over a small iron mug to him. Jormas sniffed it, the darkness making it impossible to see its content. Turned out it was boiled wine, so the merchant took a gulp after thanking Azcheron with a nod.

“Drinking on the job ? You brats are looking to get fired or something ?” he jokingly scolded, though he understood, with the cold and whatnot.

“Isn't it fine ? There's no way we'd doze off, thanks to the permanent alarm we have here.” He gestured to show the mass of snoring bodies.

“Heh. You and you smart tongue.”

Jormas quite liked the boy. He had a witty mouth and it allowed for them to have the occasional interesting chaff. The other guards were taking themselves too seriously, or were too nervous, so there was rarely the possibility to joke with them.

He glanced at the red haired girl. As always, she had a fierce air about her, and it seemed the injuries she was recovering from when they began the journey were not a hindrance anymore. It made him feel safer. Among all the guards he had on his payroll, she might have been, by far, the most skilled and the most reliable. And she always looked more serious and wary than Azcheron when they were patrolling.

Then again, Jormas surmised that the brat's negligent behaviour was an act, or that he had the necessary strength and confidence to indulge in nonchalance. The whole thing with the small group of bandits attacking was too suspicious and, hell, Azcheron himself was the most suspicious brat he ever met. That, and the fact that he was a mage, made Jormas question the game the brat seemed to be playing.

Either way, he wasn't too worried for what would come next. They had already passed the forest that would have been the most dangerous part of the trip, banditry-wise, and it didn't prove to be too much trouble. The winter would not be that complacent, but they'd manage.

“What are you two going to the capital for, anyway ?” he genuinely asked. He wasn't inquiring because there was nothing there waiting for them, on the contrary. It was the centre of the Empire, so all sort of people gathered there for all sort of reasons.

“There are many things to do here, that's why !” Azcheron said, as if purposely being as vague as he could.

Damn brat. How uncommitted can your replies get ?

“So many things to do,” he continued on with an eerie smile, answering Jormas' thought.

Now you're giving me the creeps. I get it, I won't pry.

He noticed the bizarre look on Erin's face. She was making an expression hard to describe, as if she was both amused and uneasy hearing what Azcheron said.

“Well, no matter. Surely there's a lot young folks like you would get to see and do in such a place. Not my business,” he finally said, sipping from the mug.

“What about you, Jormas ? Will you stay the entire winter there ?” Jormas let out a groan to say yes, and Azcheron carried on. “Hmm... Were will you go next ? Back to Quarras I imagine.”

“Don't know yet. We'll see how's the trade by the end of the season. Could be that it'd prove more lucrative to go north or west, y'see.”

Jormas lifted his gaze from the mug, just in time to catch a glimmer of something on Azcheron's features.

He could only wonder if he had just dragged on himself some of the kid's unwanted and spooky attention, with this nonchalant and unsuspecting answer.

Whatever. The wine and the exhaustion would soon push all his worries to the back of his mind.

* * *

Anton

Around the same time in the capital, Anton Vardt was sitting in his study, looking over some administrative academy-related documents. Although he wore an expression of phenomenal annoyance, he read through the papers thoroughly.

He always preferred to work in his home, instead of his office at the Academy. The reason was simple : it was located not far from the training grounds, and his windows gave view on the large courtyard where people usually trained and learned new magic.

That was the issue. It was noisy. And the noise of someone failing to cast a fireball properly and almost burning himself to death was vastly hindering any work Anton could hope to get done. Well, he'd be lucky if it was only that. When the students blasted themselves with a poorly aimed magic missile, it was okay. However, when the students blasted Anton's office with a poorly aimed magic missile, it was not okay.

He had to go out and break some fingers, on numerous occasions. That was the only way they'd learn. That they shouldn't point these damn fingers toward his office. Once broken, they'd found it pretty hard to do so anyway.

Then another problem appeared in the recent years. Someone had the same idea as Anton. A new professor with the deeply rooted belief that discipline and teachings could not be conveyed in a better way than through the holy path of face-smacking and bone-breaking. This new professor, Karlos, was a spellblade of renown, but his methods were, yes, rather peculiar.

Quickly enough Anton came to miss the screams of students casting their own spells on themselves. The new sounds were very much louder, and occurred far too often. How many times per week was Karlos 'training' his students !? It looked like it happened almost everyday, and at impossible hours. It became unbearable at some point, and Anton decided to spend most of his time away from the sounds of wooden swords breaking bones and the screams of the victims.

So, here he was, in his four-stories house, working in his study. This way, he could also avoid meeting Hector Talir at random in the Academy's corridors. The headmaster was an old bastard with a better sense for business than for managing a magic school. There was a strange rivalry between them, and he suspected that Talir was envious and jealous of his talents as a mage, and even more frustrated that Anton took his retirement from the army. Good thing Anton had become one the members presiding the council, or else his life would have been some sort of irritating hell. Talir probably would have found a way to make him work everyday in his Academy's office. That was a sentence worth resigning.

His return trip had been almost without problem. He had been back for a few weeks and as soon as he arrived he had to deal with paperwork. His extended leave of absence had put him in an uncomfortable position. The new term had already started several weeks ago and between his student's resumes, the preparations for his classes and a few others things, he had not much time left for himself.

As he pushed aside a stack of paper and brung another one in front of him, a knock came from the door.

“Come in.”

A servant girl came and bowed her head. “Professor, someone came and brought a letter to your name. He didn't seem to know the identity of the expeditor. Shall I bring it to you ?”

“Yes, thank you Tania.”

The girl left and came back shortly after to hand over the letter.

Checking both sides for the author's name, even though he had just been told there was none, he sighted and opened it.

As he unfolded it and started reading, the maid could see the smile forming on the old mage's face as he realized who the expeditor was. It must have been strange for her. Anton usually never smiled while reading a letter. Because he was never glad to receive one. Because it was almost always about administrative hassle, and most of his friends didn't bother to write him letters, seeing as they too, were working in the capital.

But not this time.

“Greetings,

how was your journey ? I wonder, did you get to meet any bandits ? Well, I did. It seems that winter will strike sooner than we envisioned, so I'll also be coming to see you earlier than planned. I'm currently writing this in a village close to Quarras, and from what I gathered I should be arriving in the middle of the twelfth month. I reckon you'll have everything prepared for my arrival by then ? I intend to stay for the whole winter and make the most of it.

Thereupon, until we meet again.

Azcheron.”

Anton slightly frowned after reading the letter for the second time. “What does he mean by 'prepare for his arrival' ? This brat.”

“… Professor ? Is there a problem ?”

“I don't know, Tania. But you'll be meeting a troublesome friend of mine soon, that I can tell you.”

“It'd be my pleasure, professor.”

He stared at the maid. “...I wonder about that. I'll ask you to get one of the large rooms ready for when he comes. Ah, would you be so kind as to bring me my finest writing paper and my seal ? He'll want to meet and get introduced to some important people, so I better take care of that quickly.”

Tania nodded and went to search the shelves for what he asked.

Anton relaxed in his seat, putting his elbow on the armrest and supporting his head with his palm.

Then his expression suddenly brightened.

“Hehehe. This could work. He'll hate me for it but he had it coming. He did say he wanted to spend time in the Academy after all...”

As the maid put the paper and the seal down on the table with a quizzical face, Anton started to rummage through the mountainous-looking Academy-related piles of documents.

* * *

Erin

A month passed. Azcheron and Erin's caravan was closing on the capital. As they expected, the rest of the trip was devoid of encounters. Azcheron did scout their surroundings a few times, 'just in case' or so he said, but it proved vain.

While they weren't bothered by any living enemy, their was another one that made its appearance.

Winter came. And with it, the cold nights and the chilling wind. Many found it difficult to bear, although no one died from the cold. It wasn't even the middle of winter yet. Thankfully they would arrive at their destination before that.

Still, those who had brought coats and covers had never been so glad. People found ways to keep themselves relatively warm at night, even if those were only minor improvements in face of the freezing air.

The worse off were the guards on watch duty. They took turns, of course, but even if it was for a couple hours, having to stay awake in those nights while eyeing at people buried under layers of fur and snuggled up against each other was hard on the mind.

When Azcheron and Erin weren't on duty, then went to sleep in one of the carriage. Most of the others slept next to the fires, while some, like Jormas or the more well-off travellers, had small tents of their own. They couldn't light a fire in the carriage but they could lay the leather flaps down, and in that almost enclosed space they'd use Azcheron's magic to heat up the air.

Even then, it wasn't warm enough to be comfortable, and doing more would be too taxing on Azcheron since he had to be awake to reheat the air. They took the habit of sleeping huddled together, where they got to know the soft warmth of someone else's body in the harshness of the freezing and silent nights.

Looking back, Erin would consider it was during this trip that both of them had come to trust the other a little more than before. Of course, she had already casted aside some, if not most of her wariness way before arriving to Quarras. He did save her life, after all. And Azcheron being Azcheron, he surely fancied himself a good judge of character or something of the sort. They both knew that some would deem these reasons flimsy at best.

But here, cuddled together in the cold darkness, she could probably say they trusted each other with their life. They had no choice, really, seeing as they also were responsible for the entire caravan's safety. You couldn't work with someone you didn't trust, in the end. Still, it was a curious feeling, as they only met less than two months ago.

They didn't think much of it at the time. It wasn't love or anything that could blur their judgement. It had more to do with knowing each other's skills and personality. The fact that they had a good affinity for banter also helped to form both friendship and complicity.

Neither knew a lot about the other's past yet, beyond what Erin had been told on the way to Quarras, and what Azcheron could deduce from Erin's slips and behaviour. She knew he must have caught on some details, even though it should not have been enough to guess much about her past.

One night, she made the first step toward that. They were nestled inside their carriage as usual, and the sight would have probably been amusing to the outsider's eye. While she was taller than Azcheron by a good head, and looked much tougher than him, he was the one embracing her with his arms this time.

She felt somehow down, thinking about the reasons she left the capital years ago. She started to speak in a quiet voice, all of the sudden, to Azcheron's surprise.

“You've probably guessed that I come from a noble house, right ?”

Azcheron simply nodded. She could not see him but she felt his chin moving against her hair.

“Sorry I didn't give you my full name when I introduced myself. I wasn't sure yet whether or not you were from here and I wanted to avoid dropping that name around someone who could recognize it.”

“I don't mind.”

“How did you know ?”

“On the road to Quarras, you told me you didn't know much about magic. But you understood quickly what I was talking about, and you gave away hints that you tried to learn at some point in your life. Even I know that studying magic isn't something anyone can afford to. Most mages are nobility or at least had a wealthy upbringing.”

“That's all ?”

“No. Then there was your sword skills. You're young yet very strong. You must have had a good teacher, or you could afford to work and train hard, at least. And your armour, I'd say ? It's worn out but it looks sturdy and well crafted. Not that I would really know about these things, I'm merely assuming. Also, your overall demeanour.”

“Oh yeah, there's all that, I suppose.” She felt slightly annoyed as she realized she didn't do a proper job at masking her identity, at least not as much as she hoped.

“Mmh. You were a mercenary, but you couldn't hide the fact that you're well-educated and knowledgable about many things unrelated to being a sell-sword. So with all that I made some deductions.”

“Hehe. I'd expect no less from you.”

“That being said, I couldn't guess much beyond that. I thought you had ran away for some reason and that's why you were hiding your name and origins.”

“It's not far from the truth. I wasn't exactly running away, but you could say that I was banished, somehow.”

Azcheron one again nodded, meaning for her to continue.

“It's nothing serious. We had this huge family dispute. They were acting like cunts because I trained to become a knight instead of wedding material, and then they felt humiliated and ashamed that I couldn't use magic. So they sent me away to avoid bringing anymore shame to the family. They agreed to let me do my own thing as long as I wasn't linked to them, hence me hiding my name. Better have an exiled daughter than a embarrassing failure who could neither be a mage nor a proper lady.”

“It must be an important family for them to cast away their members when they're an inconvenience...”

“House Verald is... well-known in the Empire, yes. Ah, I guess I'm late but that makes me Erin Verald, by the way. And a knight, as you indeed guessed. Nice to meet you ?”

They both chuckled and then kept silent for a while. Azcheron finally spoke in a warm tone.

“You had it rough, eh ?”

“I'm alright now. It's just that I don't exactly want them to know I'm back.”

“Would you get into trouble if they learned about your return ?”

“I don't know. But they'll avoid making a commotion about it, obviously. Since I'm supposed to be the 'shameful secret' of the family.”

“Well, don't worry about it. Knight Erin of house Verald, know that I, Saint Azcheron of the Rahal Clan, will make commotions soon enough, so no one will have the time to harass you. It will be fine.”

She smirked. She didn't doubt a single word of it.