“Winter changes into stone the water of heaven and the heart of man.”

- Victor Hugo

“What is Magister Illimen thinking,” Lieseleta grumbled. “I could have used your help.”

“It shouldn’t be much longer than a month or two at most?” Alyssa tactfully tried to calm the waves.

They were sitting in the salon overlooking the snowed-in garden, the warmth of the elemental heater suffusing the room.

“Though it could take longer with the weather being this bad and unexpected monsters,” Alea interjected unhelpfully.

“Why go into the wilderness at all at this time of year?!” Mireille complained while drinking down a cup of probably highly expensive tea from the south. “Mh, that’s a good tea!”

“Thank you.” Lieseleta brightened a bit. “It is my mother's favorite but with me being the heir I can get some for my own use.”

“I would hope that you could get some tea!” Mireille laughed.

“Mh. I think you underestimate what it takes to get ‘this’ tea.”

“Probably.” Mireille amiably agreed.

“Would we really be of help to you?” Alea asked somewhat shyly.

“Yes, of course. Even if it's not in a professional capacity as budding magicians I could really use your opinions and thoughts. Heloise does what she can but you have met her, didn’t you? She can be blunt and abrasive and above all, she has to force herself to be accommodating.”

Talking about their school life consumed the rest of the allotted time and finally, they said their goodbyes under the strict eyes of the royal steward.

“I will simply wait for you to come back.” Lieseleta saw them off and smiled with a hint of bitterness.

The day of departure dawned with bright cloudless skies. The wind had picked up in the night and gusts blew loose snow over the frozen ground in glittering streams.

“Brr. I feel cold just looking!” Mireille complained while pulling on her new winter coat. Enchantments woven into the waist lit up as they detected the presence of a living being and soon the warmth emanating from the copper fibers spread through the fabric brought a light sweat to her face. “Hu! How do I cool it down?”

“It should settle on its own?” Alea turned Cecily in her direction and pursed her mouth in thought. “It would be too complicated to make it adjustable. Though it might be possible…” She frowned while considering.

“Let us go. Everyone else is getting ready to board.”

Walking outside the three friends were accompanied by Butler One, Iseret, and Lorelle while carrying luggage and a big coffer containing most of Alea’s workshop.

On the road leading to and from the Academy stood coaches and carriages. Students were boarding the vehicles or loading chests and bags.

Adam Bearkin, the coachman, stood beside their carriage and gestured for them to get inside. Mireille did not need to be asked twice. Even as her new coat warmed her body, her ears, hands, and feet were being frozen stiff.

The coach they had requisitioned was big enough for six people and Butler One would help Adam with driving.

Vanessa would be following them as soon as they arrived at their destination.

Then it was time to set off and the coach shook as the horses slowly began to trot down the street toward the city.

Mireille stretched her legs, careful not to bump Lorelle sitting opposite her, and asked, “Will we go the whole way by coach? It seems a bit cold for the horses.”

Meanwhile, the coach passed the city gates, and shadows passed over the windows.

Lorelle hesitated before answering as everyone else was still thinking about it, “I think so? The horses we have are northern breeds but we should take care to reach an inn every night.”

“I have no opinion on horses.” Alea shrugged while Alyssa also shook her head.

“I thought we might get one of those automaton-driven carriages.” Mireille looked a bit envious at the thought.

“I would have liked that too but the expense and the high probability of a malfunction on longer treks do not make it very feasible.” Alea sighed. “It’s not as well developed as it seems. At the moment you would still want to have a golem-driven carriage from a professional summoner.”

“No, please don’t.” Alyssa shook her head. “When a friend summoned an earth elemental to pull a wagon, the wheels had to be repaired three? No, four times on a journey lasting half a day. This is not a good thing.”

Meanwhile in Nordmark

Calvin drove his tired mount along the village road. The ground was frozen mud partly submerged in snow. No one seemed to be taking care of it and snowdrifts had accumulated at the walls of the low houses. Some smoke curled from the chimneys and the surrounding fields leading into a dense and dark forest were silent after dusk had fallen. There was an air of desolation- a ruined house- burned down from the look of it- several broken tools and wheelbarrows stacked against the side of a larger building in the middle probably meant for repair but never finished.

The only guesting house in this village of a few hundred souls lay dark and silent even as it was still early in the evening.

Calvin frowned and rode closer dismounting skillfully he grabbed his warstaff. Runes inlaid with enchanted steel but darkened from years of disuse gleamed as he spelled a globe of light over his left hand. He knocked with the tip of his staff, the hollow sound fading quickly into the night.

After several minutes footsteps sounded from inside and a small shutter opened at the side. “Who is it?” An aged male voice called.

“A traveler in search of a place for his horse and a warm place by the fire.”

“At this time? Costs you a silver for the horse and three for the room.”

“Do you take me for an idiot? Take two silver and give me a meal and call it my generosity on this cold night.”

“Mh. Fine.” After a moment of shuffling the ratcheting of a bolt sounded and the door opened. An old man with an unkempt head full of grey hair and perhaps three lonely teeth garbed in peasants clothing looked him up and down. He looked as if he had lost weight recently and the clothes were bundled with some rope made of twine.

“Come in. My boy will take the horse.” He put two fingers in his mouth and a shrill whistle caused a teenager with a large black bruise coloring his left cheek to come running. “Care for this sires horse will ya?” Nodding dutifully the boy looked at Calvin curiously and then ran outside grabbing the horse before leading it into the small courtyard. The old man eyed his eyepatch and the warstaff. “Mercenary?” Getting a nod in return he walked inside gesturing for Calvin to follow. “Branded?” His guest shook his head with a bit of amusement. “Thought so.” Muttered the old man.

“My name is Sattler, Paul Sattler. And this here is the Jolly Farmer.” He made a sweeping gesture around the room. Walking to the back he ignited a sliver of wood with the still glowing coals in the large hearth dominating the room and lit an oil lamp standing on a counter in the back. “So. Two silver for room and board. Aye." Calvin put two silver coins on a nearby table and pushed them forward. Having received his money, the old man pointed at a stair rising along one wall, "The room is the first door on the left when you go up the stairs here.”

The floor was packed mud strewn with slightly moldy straw. There were several tables made of roughly polished wooden planks and Calvin suspected that the polish was more from the guests than any kind of carpenter. The low-hanging wooden ceiling was blackened with soot and some bundles of herbs hung in the corners long since having lost their scent.

“Sit down while I get you some food.” The old man walked to the back and returned with some bread and what seemed to be a cold bean stew. “Should I heat it for you?”

“Make me some hot drink and I will eat it as is.” Calvin eyed the offered food and shrugged.

The old man filled a tankard with beer and then inserted the poker lying in the hearth causing the beer to boil.

“Here." He put the dubious beverage on the table. "What brings you here at this time of year? I thought every sellsword was wintering somewhere?”

“If there is coin to be made the season makes no difference.”

“Mh.” The old man looked a bit less friendly. “Have your bloody coin then. G’night.” He turned and walked up the stairs then stopped and said without turning. “If you need something I will be in my room at the end of the corridor. Or if you need my boy he will be sleeping in the kitchen.”

Calvin took a long draft from the flat, heated beer he had been given and grimaced at the taste. Casting a quick spell the murky liquid became clear as springwater. Tasting it he nodded quietly. The sound of the door closing interrupted his thoughts.

“Are you a wizard?”

Calvin turned and looked at the boy who was rubbing his arms while shivering. “Yes. Formerly of Desmond’s Own.” He sighed at the blue tinge of the boy’s lips and gestured- flames rose along the warstaff and warmth spread in the room. “Come over and warm up a bit, you look ill enough already.”

“Thank you! The taxes were hard this year and the harvest time was short- what with the cold and all.” The teenager looked at him suspiciously but his discomfort won out and he huddled near the burning staff lank, blonde hair hung on a thin face with a few wisps of beard around the chin.

“Any problems around here? Bandits, Monsters?”

“Bandits mostly. The army patrols keep them beasties away but I hear tell that the town of Riversbend has some trouble with drowners and then there is talk of moving trees in the deeper forest. They eat the dead.” He blinked at Calvin in a conspirative fashion getting more comfortable as the room heated up.

“I seek employ with the local lord, where should I ask?” Calvin suddenly had a copper coin in his hand and played with it, letting it spin and dance across his knuckles.

“Ah, that.” The boy looked frightened all of a sudden. Calvin gave him a friendly grin and flicked the coin at his chest where it bounced and hit the floor rolling in a circle before the boy snatched it. A complicated expression crossed his immature face and he leaned forward before hastily whispering. “Don’t! It's not safe. Theric the third son of the smith, went to the old fort across the Sleepy Green…” seeing Calvin's incomprehension, he added, “...that’s the small river a few hours to the west.” He coughed. “Theric, he went to the fort and he was accepted and everyone was jealous and the wife of Jon, the smith, was so arrogant. But he came back one night and he had grey hair when he was not twenty summers, and then he died.” He looked frightened. “And then there are people missing every month.” He stood up and bowed. “Please...forget what I said, I am stupid, everyone says so.” He laughed hollowly. “Good night, sar!” He quickly retreated into the kitchen.

Calvin retracted his left hand where it had been resting on a large medallion inscribed with runes and his fingers drew small sparks as he removed them from the polished silver. He felt a bit guilty but inducing trust magically was among the most gentle ways of gathering information he knew.

He tapped the warstaff and the flames guttered before fading away. Shouldering the saddle bags that the stable boy had brought and grabbing his staff he ascended the rickety stair. He would need his wits about him in the coming days, no use in wasting sleep on it.

The roads grew worse the farther they came from the capital. At first, it was quiet, snowed in hamlets and farms but after the second day the scenery became more rugged and forests and rocky hills took the place of fields and industry. But even here mines and small villages dotted the landscape. Smoke rose from smelters and large swathes of the old forest had been cut down for wood, leaving stumps and scattered bushes.

“If it continues like this, the forest here will be gone in ten to twenty years,” Alea commented musingly as she looked out of the frosted window.

“Doesn’t that mean fewer monsters? Isn’t that a good thing?” Mireille looked questioningly.

“Yes, but without the living vegetation, there will be less mana. There have been treatises about more magically talented people being born in the countryside and some postulate that it has to do with mana density.” Alea replied.

“Kronenburg should be fine then. With the academy and the mana crystals being burned everywhere.” Alyssa shrugged.

Swaying with occasional potholes the coach crunched over the snowy road.

“There is such a thing as too much mana…” Alea did not finish her sentence as she was distracted by Mireille.

“Are we there yet!?” the redhead pouted and tapped the window.

Iseret regarded them with a soft smile.

“Are you bored with us already?” Alyssa scratched Cyrus who slept in the space between the girls.

“No. But you don’t do anything but talk and I would really like to...explore that ruin over there!” Mireille looked outside at a broken-down watchtower.

“Ah, that is one of the sentinel towers. In the early days, there was a system of them looking out for larger monsters, so that the army could move quickly to protect the freshly established villages. But now there are no longer any large beasts so deep inside the kingdom so the towers fall into disuse.” Alea smiled. She was no longer as shy among her friends as she had been in the beginning.

Time passed and the snow outside began to glow orange with the setting sun.

Alea held Cecily to look outside and frowned. A stone marker standing beside a crossroad showed a weathered coat of arms.

“Isn’t that what that Mathilde person was wearing?” Mireille looked outside and pursed her mouth.

“Yes, that is the Nordmark Crest, their lands are quite extensive,” Alea answered shortly.

“Should we be concerned?” Alyssa looked at her smaller friend.

“Yes, I fear we should.”