Cold.

Vision’s eyes flew open. So cold. With a shriek, she scrambled forward, out of the water. She was in a metal tub, filled with ice, she realised with a jolt. That made no sense. Her hands struggled to find purchase on the sides of the tub and when she tried to move them to the rim, they wouldn’t obey her correctly. Gentle hands came down on her upper arms and she was helped out of the bath. She blinked at the scene before her, then squeezed her eyes shut and tried again, unable to make sense of what she was seeing. Her teeth chattered painfully and she shivered as the air touched her skin. Glancing down at herself, she saw that she was naked but her body was wrong.

“Easy now,” said the man who had helped her out of the bath.

He draped a cloak around her shoulders and she retreated gratefully into its folds. Another man leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, watching her with a scowl. She took an involuntary step back towards the man who had helped her. He put a hand on her shoulder and murmured gently to her.

“It’s okay. Just take a minute.”

He was comforting somehow. That made her anxious in its own way, because he’d just helped her naked out of a tub she didn’t recall climbing into, in a house she did not recognise. None of this should be making her feel comfortable. Still, she looked into his lined face and let it ground her. His age was hard to place. His close-cropped hair was grey, and he moved with the stiffness of an older man, but his skin was clear of the paper-like fragility of the elderly and his bearing held vigour. A mage, perhaps? The other man certainly was. He was younger, and his dark robes marked him clearly as a necromancer. He’d have been ordinary to look at without the robe. Of average height and on the slender side for a man, it was his bearing that made her so reluctant to go near him.

“Ether, Rook,” snapped the older man, “You look like you wish her dead.”

Rook shrugged, and said nothing. The older man muttered a handful of curses that surprised Vision from someone who seemed so grandfatherly.

“I’m Malone,” he said quietly, “I’m sure this is all very frightening. Take your time to look around and get your bearings, then we’ll have a chat.”

She looked around her. It appeared as though she were within a fine house; nothing like a lord’s manor but certainly belonging to someone far wealthier than she’d dreamed of being. She stood in a kitchen, with stone countertops and cookware that she’d never seen before. She could see beyond into the next room, where soft surfaces and items with purely decorative functions covered fine timber floors and furniture. She took a tentative step towards the other room, and stumbled. She would have fallen if Malone hadn’t caught her.

“Time for that chat, I think,” he said.

Rook rolled his eyes and stalked into the other room. Malone and Vision followed, but it was difficult. Her feet kept tripping her up. Had they always been so long? She simply couldn’t find her balance. Finally, Malone helped her into a soft, peach-upholstered chair.

“Why am I here?” she asked.

“You died,” Rook said bluntly, speaking for the first time, “And I put you back into a new body.”