Too Close to the Sun (Amari)
The frigid reaches of Berevar stretched out into the northern sea, and the ocean breeze lent its own salty chill to the intolerable wind. Three layers of thick fabric and armor could not stop the icy fingers from stroking Tobias along his torso, and his gilded eyes burned, wept involuntarily, and spasmed shut each time the wind changed. Without the Magicks woven by Lye Ulroke and his yoke, navigating the wasteland became little more than a deathwish.
He trudged through the knee high drifts and spared a glance back at his frozen mount. The Stokes Trading Post guaranteed the breed durable by all Salvic standards; Tobias supposed that the ends of Althanas did not fall under that blanket. Stone dead, the mare stared skyward with glassy, fully black eyes.
"If I stop to bury you, I might as well dig a second hole for myself," the Adventuerer muttered as gentle flakes of powder slowly devoured the horse. "Best to let Berevar take you."
It gave no response. He chuckled at his small hope that it might. "I should have listened to my gut. I should never have come back here."
Berevar howled again, and the world around him went white. Tobias stretched a hand out and watched his arm disappear into the blizzard, then pulled it back. The chill crept down his spine.
The Intel Ayaka found just a fortnight before confirmed her fears. That dangerous magic loomed ahead of them at every turn, and if they did not confront it themselves, they would regret the decision later. Not that the Akashiman woman deigned to accompany him in the task.
Fuck no, she had protested. It's far too cold!
"But not too cold for Stalt, hey."
