“No, I can’t recall that the three of us have ever been in quite such circumstances previously, but then, I’ve been nearly as absent as you, these last years.” While the stage was treating Ari well, she preferred to keep herself out of the way of various bloodthirsty monsters.
“I made a promise in a quiet moment when I was longing for something to do, and here I am,” she admitted. “Still, it is a more pleasant atmosphere than some camps I’ve been in, even if it is still several dozen degrees below tolerable out here.”
“It’s Valendia,” Mag replied, as though that explained everything—and, as far as the three were concerned, it did. “Maybe Wolfe here can tell us stories of places colder than here he passed through on his travels. Kerwon?” Aspel had shaken her head at her complaints about the weather often enough that Mag knew things could always be worse.
He’d temporarily busied himself with his soup, one splayed hand warming it through with a small thrum of elemental magic (small favours), but Wolfe glanced up at the question. “There are,” he said. “The southeastern mountain passes especially. Though from what I’ve heard of Emillion, you’ve experienced your own rather bizarre winter weather this year, no? I came too late for your snowstorms and snow monsters.”
A thoughtful pause, chewing over what he was trying to say. “It sounds like I’ve missed quite the action back in the city—you’ll all have to fill me in at some point. When we’re not on a mission and staring ancient mysteries in the eye, of course.”
Ari grimaced and said, “Faram preserve me from snow monsters, blizzards, and my own foolishness in doing anything other than staying home under half a dozen blankets when either of them come calling. I think I’d rather ancient mysteries, given the choice.”
Though the temple was likely as not to be infested with odd creatures (they so frequently were), at least it was indoors.
Mag couldn’t help laughing. “Try not to jinx it, ma cherie. For all we know, that temple’s roomy enough for a snow monster or two.” But hopefully, no dragons, she didn’t say. “Ancient, mysterious snow monsters. The mages will have to be careful not to melt them with a blast of Fire and get all those ancient texts soaked.”
Wolfe winced, shaking his head, expression briefly echoing Ari’s. “Hopefully not. It’s practically enough to make you miss the piping-hot weather and sands back home, isn’t it? Although… sand monsters. Not quite pleasant either.”
He sounded rueful, amused. The little town of Mauritz was a carefully sequestered part of the mage’s history, but it persistently crept loose whenever chatting to other countrymen.
“I think I might still take scorpions over snow,” Ari said, though she had to admit neither held great appeal. “In any case, I should think thoughtless use of fire might destroy some scrap of… precious ancient parchment detailing the recipe for communion wafers, or somesuch. We had best hope snow beasts aren’t involved, for the clients’ peace of mind.”