The cold would have been infinitely worse if there had been a breeze. As it was, the lack of moving air was disquieting. Virgil sat in front of the campfire, the heat was the only thing causing the air to shift. If he hadn’t studied the Ennoia he didn’t think he would have noticed, but given that he had, he was able to notice and watch the tiny dust motes dancing above the flames.

The Radiant Sun rose behind, casting just the faintest light across the flat tundra that had sparse vegetation and sparser life. Virgil was sure that there must be life under the earth--Craig occasionally shot up in alarm, placed his ear on the ground then sighed in relief a few minutes later.

“Why is it so rotting cold?” Balliol sneezed from his blankets and sidled up closer to the campfire. “It’s still in the middle of the Season of Fire, Ancestors!”

“Who knows,” Sarra shrugged. “The Radiant Sun looks more distant here.”

It was true, Virgil thought, both the sun and moon were distant, tiny orbs hanging in the sky.

“It’s either the plane is naturally distant, or maybe an artefact is limiting its connection to the celestial bodies,” he offered.

“It doesn’t explain the dearth of ambient Chaos,” Balliol grumbled.

It was the one thing they didn’t notice immediately since there was no Sorcerer among them. Virgil thought his Animus recovery was slower than usual but he initially thought it was the absence of kaf. But as the days rolled by, he noticed that his Animus reserve wasn’t filling up completely even after a night’s rest. Worse, Amiri’s reserves were slowly dwindling, despite her attempts to top up.

The campfire in front of them was a result of digging up the sparse dried grass and Craig overusing his Facet to convert dirt into something flammable. They were several days away from the breach, almost directly due west. Aside from the worm that attacked them the first day, they hadn’t encountered any predators or potential prey. They were running out of Chaos-born rations too.

“How much do we have left?” Virgil asked suddenly.

“Rations?” Craig clarified. When Virgil nodded he muttered, “a week, I think. We either need to eat less or hunt for more food.”

“We shoulda killed that worm.” Amiri yawned as she climbed out of her bedroll. “Ooh, nippy.” She rubbed her shoulders with her hands and tightened her forceweave jacket.

“I’ll go hunt for victuals,” Craig muttered.

“I’ll help,” Virgil offered.

“Appreciated.”

The two of them headed out. Virgil drew the hood of his jacket over his head and tightened it under his chin. He flexed his fingers to keep them warm, moving a bit of Animus charged with the need for heat into his extremities and shouldered his Plasma Caster.

They roamed around the tundra for about an hour, to the south of their position but had no luck. Craig frowned as they made their way back.

“Maybe there’s some wild game further west?” Virgil remarked. “For now we should probably go on half rations.”

“Nobody’s going to like that, least of all Balliol.”

“Well, it’s either save some food now or eat well and starve later,” Virgil muttered.

“You realise we’re effectively trapped here until we find the thing that Chaos Lord wants, right?”

“Yeah.I wish we didn’t leave Rumiga at all,” Virgil sighed bleakly.

Back at camp, the other three had finished packing up camp.

“Let me guess, you and Craig spent the hour taking a walk while leaving the rest of us to pack up?” Amiri said brightly.

“Uh, no, we were hunting,” Virgil said.

“No luck?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Should we turn back?” Sarra asked suddenly.

“Well, we could gather more Chaos-born rations but I don’t think the Rose’s Thorn’s vessel spirit would allow us aboard again.” Virgil paused. They could spend what Animus they had to shape the nearby Chaos, he supposed.

“We’ve a week’s rations left. Let’s turn back after three days and decide from there,” Craig said.

With all of their gear hanging off their backpacks, they continued marching west. It had been flat since they climbed up the shore. The air was too hazy and Virgil didn't want to waste his Animus trying to see around it.

Half a day passed and out of thin air, Virgil could see a…mountain? It was a blurry mass that he couldn’t see the ends of.

“You see that?” he called out.

“What?” Sarra asked crossly, “I can’t see anything out of this murk.”

“Huh?” Amiri moaned, shaking herself out of her stupor. She walked in a semi-meditative state to conserve her Animus while giving the rest of them enough warmth to function.

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“I don’t see anything,” Balliol replied after a moment. “Huh, no wait, what is that grey shape in the distance?”

“Mountain?” Craig hazarded a guess.

“Maybe. I can’t see it clearly enough,” Virgil answered. He glanced at the sun, finding it directly overhead. Shaking his head, they continued moving.

Close to evening, they still hadn’t found anything edible other than the tundra grass, which was looking more palatable by the hour. The blur in the distance wasn’t getting any clearer either. They settled for the night, Craig once again spending nearly three-fourths of his reserve to draw out flammable material from the earth around them to serve as fuel. Virgil distributed their ration bars wrapped in waxed paper and started nibbling on his. It was hard but not frozen, simply because there was too little moisture the bar for it to be affected. He took cautious sips from his canteen after he left it next to the campfire to warm. Water wasn’t that much of an issue. The atmosphere around them had enough humidity that the runescript on their canteens could provide them with a mouthful every hour or so.

Virgil kept first watch while the others meditated to speed up the recovery of their reserves or just plain slept. By now, Sarra’s leg had recovered enough that she wasn’t limping anymore though she moaned that the cold was making her bones ache.

Early the next morning they heard howls. Virgil shot out from his bedroll, hands groping for his Plasma Caster while blinking away the sleep crust in his eyes. Balliol already had his hardened wind knives floating around him.

“Where is it?” He said with a hungry tone of voice. “Let’s go get it!”

Virgil channelled Animus into his Facet, magnifying his vision and pulling in indirect light. Wherever that meat was, he’d find it. Another howl came, from a different direction. He focused in that direction, raised his Plasma Caster and pulled the trigger.

The bright purple bolt cast dazzlingly bright reflections off the icy ground but it twisted and curved in the air and eventually hit its mark. Another howl came from even farther away, but Virgil saw his mark with its head blown off.

“Come on!” he yelled at Craig.

The two of them ran the entire three longstrides away. It took them a few minutes but eventually, they came upon their prize. It was a…well, a wolf was the closest Virgil could say it was, but he mainly made that connection from the howling.

It was a quadrupedal creature, no doubt about it, and he remembered it had a snout. It was protected by a thick leathery hide and half of its body was a hole in the ground. Virgil grabbed hold of it and pulled.

“Heavier than it looks,” he grumbled.

He pulled it out of the ground, amplifying his physical strength with Boost after a while. It wasted a good bit of Animus, yes, but the payoff was worth it. The creature was about the rough size of a wolf, as long as Virgil was tall and would come up against his waist if it still stood. It had a long thick tail and, as he pulled it out of the ground, it was clear that most of its length was that.

“From the remains of its jaw, it’s either a carnivore or an omni,” Craig observed. Another howl pierced the silence. They exchanged glances then carried half of the carcass and hot-footed it back to the others.

When they arrived, Sarra and the other two were already making camp.

“Craig, you need to draw up fuel,” Amiri said.

“Of course,” He looked at Virgil. “Start dressing the kill?”

“Yeah.”

Virgil pulled out his hunting knife, tested the edge, then infused it with Animus.

“Sharp and cutting,” he murmured. Then he proceeded to eviscerate it neatly. He went off a small distance and buried the entrails and other internal organs. With an unknown species, they were better off avoiding those. By the time he returned, Craig was already removing the hide.

Virgil cleaned his knife with a quick application of water and Animus before he sheathed it. He left the other man to continue butchering. He heard more howls in the distance, though he thought it was only one…earthwolf? Maybe a couple more. Perhaps he was mistaken, but he may have heard a mournful tone amids the howling.

Still, this solved their rations issue for the foreseeable future. With the amount of meat on that thing, it could last them another week. And now that they knew there were game animals around, they could ease up on the rationing and eat well enough to sustain their strength.

“I wonder why Whisperer didn’t just explore this place on her own?” he wondered out loud.

“Probably the low ambient Chaos,” Balliol aswered. “A Telurian noble like her would suffocate here.”

“There are workarounds to that,” Virgil pointed out.

“Then who knows how creatures such as they think? She wanted us to kill someone at first right? Then she probably didn’t want to catch that person’s attention due to extended absence.”

“That’s a sound theory,” Sarra agreed.

It took a couple of hours before the kill was cut up into chunks and was being spit-roasted atop the campfire.

“This has to cook thoroughly, I’m afraid,” Craig said, “It might end up tough and chewy afterwards. My Facet tells me this is safe to eat. As long as we cook it thoroughly.”

“As long as we have something to eat,” Virgil concurred.

They sampled the meat as the sun set behind that huge mountain in the distance. Virgil took a little nibble. It was tough and gamey and had a sour taste. It didn't help that they were out of spices though he still had a bit of salt tucked away in his backpack. He could live without it for now.

The next morning, they placed the meat in baskets made of woven grass fronds. They hung it on some hooks on the backpack and moved on. The mountain seemed like it was their destination, though it may take a few more days to get there. Well, they had about five Jin apiece of meat, good to last them ten days or so, unless someone got wounded and needed to replenish their strength.

The days passed by in a blur. After a week, they managed to hunt down another earthwolf. The long tail actually had the tastiest meat. It was nice and fatty and the sizzling aroma it gave off reminded Virgil of Kadrac Beef. The creatures were more prevalent deeper into the tundra, though he couldn’t figure out why they howled out of the blue. It just gave away their position to predators.

The mountain was wider than they thought. It spread out monolithically to the north and south, with no end in sight. After a few more days they could finally see the peaks, and it was then that Virgil realized that it wasn’t a mountain.

The top was an even line.

“It’s a rotting wall!” Balliol gasped.

“Indeed. Though it looks quite preserved to me,” Sarra said quietly.

“Oh, shut up.”

“This seems to be our destination,” Virgil grunted.

They continued on for another week. The tundra remained as flat as anything, though there was a bit more vegetation. They crossed a river; it was frozen solid all the way to the bottom. Still, they cut out a chunk and melted it for water, drinking and bathing, though only Amiri enjoyed the latter.

Finally, they arrived at the wall. It was at least a longstride high, made of worked stone. It was smooth on their side and utterly cold when he touched it with his bare hand. Seamlessly smooth.

“So what now? Are we going to climb the thing?” Balliol groused.

“I don’t think that would be easy,” Virgil said while he pressed his fingertips across the material. “This is as smooth as glass.”

His fingerprints were clearly marked on the wall when he pulled away. Then the prints disappeared. The next thing he knew was that a man-sized door opened soundlessly in front of them, leading into a dark hallway. A warm draft blew out, like an exhalation by a giant beast.

“At least it’s warm inside,” Balliol said after a moment when they exchanged glances. “I’ve had it with the cold.”