A carpet of fresh snow lay around the icebearer’s sleeping form. It had almost covered him whole below its cold embrace when he blinked his eyelids open. His nose stood vigilant above the white powder helping him breathe yet he was in no way bothered by the situation.

On the contrary, he lifted himself out of the soft snow and stretched, yawning with pleasure, as someone who had a restful and pleasing sleep.

The root of the tree he had rested his head over had frozen solid, an unfortunate casualty of the night that he hoped would recover after his departure.

“Brrr, it's cold today too,” The icebearer mumbled standing up. Before setting off, he swiped his traveling clothes clean of the excess ice and snow. As if by some kind of magic there was no dampness to them, only wrinkles and the wear of time held onto their form.

He hummed quietly while walking, appreciating the lush green vegetation around him. He made his own path among the trees as there was none to be found so close to the mountain peaks.

Now and then a white pellet fell behind him, blown to the ground by a trail of chilling winter air.

He hummed, it was a long long way down the mountain, but still, he was in no way bothered by that.

—-

With the help of his knife, James ripped the brown scarf he found in the closet into long narrow pieces. They resembled gauzes that a doctor would use to dress a wound and that was exactly the purpose he needed them for to cover the blister on his right hand. They had to be tied tightly to avoid falling off during the expected messy fight with the fghels later in the day.

When his preparations were completed he tested his right hand, flexing and clenching his fist to observe if the small knot would keep itself secured. It seemed stable enough but he would have to be mindful during the scrambling, it could easily come undone without him noticing.

Another day had dawned on the city’s flat rooftops, another day he judged himself ill-prepared to face. The deeper he delved into this world the more complex and dangerous it appeared. Thankfully, the light damage he had received the day before had somewhat healed, only a dull soreness surrounded his nerves. His body would be happier with another day of rest, but that was time he didn’t have the leisure of wasting.

As for his goals, the 4Gs, it was getting clear that he was taking two steps back to move a step forward. After yesterday night if the cult leader, Omny, took offense to his burned mark, kicking him out of the cult might become an unwelcome reality. Now that he knew how much money he required to buy necessities, returning to only one paying job would set him a long way back. Worse for wear, even that job was in jeopardy, if Jane-Lorella made another appearance at the Twin Claw’s.

The morning view from his bare room did little to lift his spirits. A lone cloud flew in the otherwise clear sky, partially covering the sun, a herald for dark omens, or just the simple turn of the weather. With his brooding mood, James believed the former was the case.

—-

“Human, where are you going?” Hox called irritated as James made for a shop with footwear lined up on its display.

“Just a moment. I need to buy something,” James replied without pausing to look at the angry expression the gleemix made at his words.

He pushed the door open and entered the shop hearing an elfin bell chime from above. On his right and left he found rows of footwear, placed on shelves, sometimes pilled on top of one another. The shop wasn’t as big as it was long, with the stacked shelves running along the sides until they came to a halt at a desk.

A joyful middle-aged clerk sprang up from behind the counter, swiftly moving towards him wearing a bright and open expression.

“Dear customer, welcome! What are you looking for? Let this simple shopkeeper help you choose the correct footgear for your needs.” He said attentively with enough energy to put to shame a pack of children running on sugary treats.

James didn’t feel like sharing in the jolly atmosphere, however.

“Erghh. Hello, I’m looking for comfortable boots, a second-hand pair to trade for my own.” He said blankly extending his left foot to showcase his boots.

“Well enough, well enough. We have several pairs that might do great by you, here, sit, and you can try them on. In the meantime let me inspect yours.” said the clerk without hesitating one bit at his bland reply.

He moved swiftly rummaging through the shelves and collecting three pairs, bringing them back to James who sat waiting on a green leather cushion. His fingers were caressing the pouch that was tied securely to his belt. He had a Verithian silver and 20 coppers available for this purchase.

The third piece of footwear he tried on, a dark brown pair of semi-boots extending up to his ankles felt comfortable enough. It had a rubbery sole that would help his kneecaps and provide a well-needed floor grip so as not to slip on the city’s traffic-polished cobblestones. The leather joints were well-sewn to prevent any water from entering, and all in all, they appeared to be in great condition, almost new he could say.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

The clerk didn’t even glance his way, having turned his full attention to inspecting the boots James had given him. He was murmuring to himself, a few sentences that James was able to overhear.

“Did an Ombrak wear this pair? Why is the cap toe so inflated, and the counter pocket too...”

James coughed to hide his embarrassment and let the clerk know he had made his choice.

“Ah, excuse me, dear customer, I lost myself in the workings for a moment. Oh my, this is an excellent choice you have made, barely worn and from quite the bootmaker. If I may show you, look closely here, at the initials by the sole, BB, Bit’s Boots. A renowned family-owned craftsman’s shop in our closest neighboring city, the lovely Fonterra. They made their way to my little shop by luck and what a story they have behind them. If I could waste a moment of your time to listen, they…”

James held up a hand to stop the torrent of words spewing out from the shopkeeper's excited mouth.

“How much can I trade them for?” He said in a serious tone staring intently at the man.

“Yes, of course, dear customer, there is no time to waste! I will immediately send an offer your way. I have appraised your boots, lovely as they may be, well traveled, a dear companion of yours if I may say. Please take no offense at my honest words, but, they have seen better days.”

James’s patience was growing thin and it might have shown on his face by the clenching of his jaws.

“Well, well, my offer for this trade; Two Verithian silvers on top of your boots, an honest and just deal for you, dear customer.”

“That's a silver too many for my taste,” He replied eyeballing the clerk with as much bravado as he could muster.

His first battle of the day began in earnest right then and there.

—-

The clerk might have bled him dry of coin but from the slightly anguished expression he wore by the end of it, James might have won the haggling war. He once again found himself with an empty pouch, spending exactly the amount he had available. Yet the pleasure of walking without the bothersome stuffing the previous boots had given him did brighten the day in his eyes.

Hox on the other hand had either gotten a sunburn, was blushing wildly, or was raging mad. The first was out of the question since the persistent morning cloud impeded the sun's rays to a large extent, and the second was unlikely since James didn’t spot any female gleemix in the near vicinity when he exited the store. So it was without a doubt his fault that Hox had turned furiously red.

But who was he kidding, he knew that.

“Before you say anything–okay I got nothing, say your fill,” He said apologetically.

Let him never tell a living soul anything bad about the creativity of a pissed-off Gleemix. The profanities he heard coming out of Hox’s mouth would bring back some color to a revenant's cheeks.

Are those even words? Direscumwhore of a bonefly?

The few passersby who caught onto the unfolding scene either laughed their hearts out or scattered away scandalized.

By the time they found their way to the eastern gate, they were both red in the face, one from anger and the other from embarrassment.

—

If any cared to look at the history of the city of Avi`Gale they would have known that it used to have four gates, one for each direction a traveler wished to journey towards.

The passage of time could change that, and it did, only to allow a few things to remain as they were. One of them was the Westward gate. Unlike its other counterparts, it had always been the gate that saw the most foot traffic; a well-maintained, embellished even, and grander portal that accommodated the populace who sought to pass through on their way to or from the Daria kingdom and the neighboring Fonterra city.

Another was to the south, simpler in design but wider in layout. The Southward gate, mainly dealt in farmer carts trotting their way to the city to enrich the markets with delicious produce. The Southlands as the citizens of Avi’Gale called the lands south of the city, held numerous farming villages inside their vast fields and provided the needed foodstuff for the populace to sustain and grow.

And lastly, to the east, the Eastward gate was the last gateway existing currently in the city; Looking the way to the Shadrahn lands, the lost lands, the dire as some called the long imaginary line that separated the blessed lands with whatever was on the other side. That gate. That sent off the revenants on their last journey was tenuous and meager.

Only two soldiers leisurely guarded the opening when James and Hox exited the city turning slightly northwards towards the Kildashan mountains and the valley the Omny cult used for farming fghels.

To James who hadn’t passed through any of the other two, or the long-gone northern one, the Eastward gate fabricated a sense of careless abandonment. Coupled with the fact that there were no proper roads traversing the landscape around those parts, made him believe himself to be on the edge of civilization. Which held more truth to it than he could have imagined.

Not even a kilometer in their journey and his pet rock found them hiking silently onwards. The gleemix huffed once at the sight of the little rock jumping in excitement and sidestepped it with swift strides.

“You again,” James said despite himself and heard Hox click his tongue in irritation.

He likewise avoided the wisp’s near vicinity and watched it over his shoulder as it followed behind him. It was kind of cute in a way, like a stray you saw on your commute and thought of adopting it. He wouldn't do it, but still, he wondered if and what a wisp would eat. He would have to ask Ann in the afternoon to sate his curiosity.

Hox hissed as he lagged behind the gleemix who was practically jogging now. Obviously not having calmed down from their previous altercation. It was starting to get on his nerves too. It was one thing to hear an earful over a mistake and another to be berated constantly.

“Man, why are you so angry all the time? We are a bit late yes, and what of it?” James called after him. He had fallen silent earlier but this time he needed to say his part.

The gleemix paused, turning his head in a sneer that revealed teeth. There was a flash to his cheeks and his anger bubbled to his head.

“Do you even know how much money I’ve lost because I need to babysit your dumb human ass? From all the cult I have to take care of the useless you!” The gleemix shouted, spitting each word out.

“Money, what money you asshole? I’ve been doing everything you told me to and still, you are a miserable piece of a dang.” James shouted back in anger.

“You pretend you don’t know?! We are paid by the fghelhead you dull-stained-hoe!” Hox retorted with fury.

“...By the fghel head?” James repeated uncomprehending. One silver Verithian per head. Two silver Verithians per two heads. And so on.

“Ah, shit.” Realization hit him like a brick as he stared dumbfounded at the gleemix who heaved deep breaths to the world like a wind attack with no target. The more fghels he cut down the more money he would have come the next day. And they were in limited supply.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me that earlier?! Come on, we are wasting time here,” James said urgently forgetting his anger. He sprinted by his surprised companion. “We can’t lose one second moooore!” He roared.

His money waited to be farmed.