Their return to Evadia was not as quick as D’Argen had hoped. It was horribly cold, horribly wet, and horribly uncomfortable. While D’Argen could run fast enough to keep himself warm and on top of the snow, he ran much slower when travelling with others. Even though Thar was just one more than his usual, D’Argen’s speed decreased even more than before.
After an absolutely awesome snowstorm had them blocked in a cave for two days, they found a series of tunnels and spent the following month getting lost in the caverns and underground paths. It allowed them to hide from the snow and with Thar using his mahee, they were able to ward off the cold.
When they finally made it out, Yaling painstakingly plotted their journey back to Evadia in as straight of a line as possible to get them back home as fast as possible. D’Argen was not the only one eager to return, though he dreaded having to share his findings with the Chief Scholar. Vain would not be happy with him. He just knew it.
By the time Evadia was on the horizon, the worst of the winter was over.
The main street of the city of Evadia was a straight line to the castle. There was no wall or gate to indicate they had entered the city. It started with a few mill houses, all still and covered in snow, and then came more buildings. They were clustered closer and closer together to indicate one of the city districts, and when the main street became paved, they were officially inside the city. The main street was covered in smooth rocks and it was so wide that even with all five of them walking side-by-side there was plenty of room for the regular city crowd. The sun was high in the sky and there were many people bustling around, dressed in warm wool, leather, and fur.
Although D’Argen could have run the entire street to the castle in a single breath, he never did for fear of harming the people on it. Usually, he would run the rooftops. This time, he decided it was fine to take in the sights of the city that he had missed during his last quick visit.
Not much had changed in the last four centuries. The mortals that lived in the city of Evadia were used to the Never Born walking their streets. Still, many of them stopped and bared their necks in respect before quickly tucking them back into the warm safety of their clothes.
Once they entered the market district, D’Argen noticed only a few vendors had their stalls open. A little further in, he heard shouting and building. The other four hurried their steps after him until they came to a platform.
The castle of Evadia was built close to a small mountain and the entire city sat on top of a complicated array of underground chambers and rivers. During its initial creation, Acela had tasked Halen, the God of Construction, to bring one of those rivers to the surface. It took a lot of work to get the river to flow out from under one of the castle walls. It bent away from the main street, crossed it twice, circled the large trading centre of the city, then disappeared back underground and did not come up again. Its final dip away from the city was a beautiful and ornate platform made of the same white marble as the walls of the castle.
It looked like an elaborate mouth drinking the river.
Every winter, the platform iced over completely. Every winter Yelem, God of Fire, was at that platform with a team of mortals breaking the ice. Sometimes, that final dip underground froze over and caused the river to overflow into the market district. Maintaining the platform was something that D’Argen often forgot about.
Yelem was standing at the tallest point of the platform, looking down at the mist created by the river as it disappeared under it. The mortals around him were working with pick axes and spikes to break the ice on the edges of the river and hanging from the platform. His mahee's tulip scent was overpowering as streams of fire fell from his hands, surrounding the mortals to keep them warm and melting the thicker ice that their tools could not break.
When he noticed them, a single line of fire shot out toward them in greeting. It was as thin as a finger and it circled around each of them before smoking away into the cold. D’Argen raised his chin in respect and the God of Fire returned the gesture. Then he froze. The fire from his hands stopped pouring out and instead started circling just the mortals as he said something. He jumped off the platform and walked towards them.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
D’Argen stopped walking. Once Yelem reached them, D’Argen felt shivers run through his entire body. Yelem was almost completely bare. He wore a short skirt with only a single longer flap at the front to keep his modesty and it was the same dark shade as his skin. He had no shirt on at all but there was a thin band of metal across his breasts. He wore sandals, his bare toes on display. Outside of the beaded collar on his neck and the sickle sheathed at his hip, he wore nothing else. Even his long dark hair was braided and piled on top of his head in a complicated bun, keeping his neck bare for the cold.
The snow around him melted before his feet touched the ground and the heat coming off of his bare skin was enough to make the shivers fade away into imagination.
“Thar, I did not know you were back,” Yelem said after a brief greeting to each of them.
“Circumstances have changed,” Thar replied and took a pointed step away from Yelem.
If D’Argen was feeling the heat, Thar must have been sweating under his robes.
“Are you needed right away?” Yelem took a step away out of respect.
Thar glanced at D’Argen, as if asking permission, but he turned away when D’Argen had no idea what to say.
“What is it?”
“The river has been carrying ice sheets and it almost caused a problem earlier. We could use your help.”
“Where is Nocipel?”
“She is handling the bridges closer to the castle with an entire army.”
“You can stay,” D’Argen finally joined the conversation. “We know your bird story to—”
“I cannot,” Thar interrupted with a scowl.
D’Argen tried not to grin.
Yelem did not look offended at all.
“That is fine, I understand. Come find me before you leave again. We have not had a drink together in centuries.”
Thar nodded and then raised his chin in respect.
Yelem returned the gesture then said his goodbyes to the rest of them and returned to the platform. The fire that surrounded the mortals came to his side and then got stronger, creating a cloud of mist that was too reminiscent of a certain mountain.
The group continued to the trading centre, a large circular area with a huge fountain in the middle. Even in the dead of winter, the trading centre was filled with stalls and vendors, though it was much quieter than usual. The fountain, fed by the river, was still gushing and spraying water.
D’Argen was easily distracted by the varied stalls and their wares, but each of his companions pulled him away before he took too long. They would be here the next day. With a final, longing glance at a stall that sold bow strings, he followed the others back onto the main street and to the first of the two bridges that lifted the road over the river.
As Yelem had said, the God of Water, Nocipel, was there with dozens of mortals. She was doing much the same as Yelem had, breaking the ice. Nocipel, as a naturalist, could use Yelem’s fire spells at will. They were not as powerful as when they came from their creator but combined with Nocipel’s own spells to control water, it allowed the woman to destroy the sheets of ice before they reached Yelem further down.
Unlike Yelem, Nocipel did not look surprised to see Thar. She raised her chin in their direction as they crossed the first bridge and left it at that.
D’Argen narrowed his eyes in thought. Thar had mentioned he visited Evadia not that long ago, but it was obviously not something that every Never Born knew. Nocipel was a scholar, she could usually be found at the University. The fact that she had seen Thar before meant that she must have met him during their previous visit.
A quick glance at Thar revealed nothing at all on the man’s blank face.
“Ahh… I can not wait until we are free of work,” Abbot said with longing in his voice.
When D’Argen looked over, the artist was facing his favourite inn. It was a short, squat building made of mostly wood that contrasted the stone buildings around it. It was one of the first built in the city and it still stood strong. It also served Abbot’s favourite drinks and always had a room waiting for him for a night of drinking and entertainment.
“You can go,” D’Argen dismissed him with a wave. “Technically, Thar, Lilian and I are the only ones needed to report.”
“Really?!”
“Yes,” D’Argen confirmed with a smile. “Seriously. Both of you. Go… do whatever you want. Rest, drink, have fun. I’ll call for you if we need you.”
“He said so!” Abbot called even as he was already running towards the inn. Yaling rolled her eyes to the sky but did turn on the ball of her foot and followed after him.
“Lilian?” D’Argen asked the quiet person beside him.
Lilian only hummed in confirmation. Their eyes were unfocused.
“If you want, you can go rest too. I’m sure we can—”
“No need,” Lilian interrupted him and the three continued.
The stairs leading to the castle gates were already cleared of snow. The castle gates themselves were always open, inviting people onto the grounds and into the outer yard. Instead of going straight ahead and for the gates of the inner castle, D’Argen turned right. The castle library was open to the public but in winter the tall doors were kept closed. They did not make a sound when D’Argen opened them yet Vain knew immediately when someone entered his library.
The Chief Scholar appeared from between the shelves after a moment. He was not smiling.
“Go to the private room,” he said, in lew of a greeting, and disappeared again.
D’Argen sighed and then followed the other two as they made their way deeper into the library to the one room where no mortals were allowed.