High above Edor, somewhere in the grey clouds galloping south under the secrecy of the night, a tiny speck of Pruina's veil broke off and began to flutter toward the ground. If some mage had been frivolous enough to follow this snowflake down its path they would have seen a great canvas of white sprawling under their feet everywhere they looked. On this canvas which was the mortal world, a meandering line of deep dark, sinister, hungry blue grew ever wider the longer the fall took. Eventually, near this single speck of colour, a warm light appeared then another one and another one until on the eastern bank of Vitas a city arose from snow and darkness. The great hive of lights grew ever larger the closer the simple snowflake got until each section of Oriripol could be seen alongside the myriad of streets between which fifty thousand souls were crammed into like ants.
Tugged by the wind over the city, the six-sided star danced up and down as it was spun above the brightly lit section of the town above which a hot blanket of smoke would have spelt doom for the tiny star. It cruelly was forced to dance its death bed, unable to coat a small section of the world in white. Just as the fine ice tips began to melt a fickle whim of wind pushed its falling siblings over the thick walls separating each district until the snowflake was released above a smokeless and lightless section of the metropolis.
Falling between the thin stone towers sparsely sprinkled over the district, the snowflake's flight came to its zenith as it began to descend straight down among the company of other of Pruina's gifts. Through a hole in the wooden roof, it found a way to claim a tiny piece of this world under the cover of its Master's veil.
A tiny candle as thin as an infant's little finger and only slightly taller burned in the corner of the room. Beside this yellowish-brown tower, a collection of whittled roadside flowers surrounded a figurine. The wooden idol was an odd sight to see in Oriripol where worship of anything other than power was brutalised before the modern human fiefs had split up from the Holy Human Empire. Yet the idol stood in a seat of humble honour but what would have been truly surprising was that it wasn't depicting an Aspect nor was it a carved personification of the System
The idol depicted a dragon sitting expectedly for someone, its wings folded elegantly into a cloak behind him. Staring closely at the statue two red eyes made from noble stones stared soullessly into the space in front of it while on a masterfully detailed body instead of scales someone had carved Lengos into its body so it would appear the word were the scales from afar.
"Hurry up, you good-for-nothing freeloaders." An ear-scratching voice demanded from between the floorboards.
A thin shadow jerked at the voice, reaching nervously toward the idol before stopping in mid-air. Shuffling closer to the meagre light source a young man emerged from the darkness.
"Stay sleeping I'm going to do it, Claire." Remarkably gentle and soothing words left his mouth as he rested his palm against the side of a slightly dirty head which emerged from under a thick sleeping bag.
"Alexandre..."
Before his younger sister could touch him, the young man had already stood up and was leaving the room.
"Where is that snot-nose?" Among the filth and rotting foundations, a woman adorned with fur scoffed at the almost silent man.
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"She is asleep."
"I'm tired of this mess, pick this up and scrub the floors." The woman without acknowledging her previous question created a bit of water not enough to fill the bucket but the old dog bowl she kicked toward Alexandre was over-brimming with it.
The woman looked so out of place inside the hovel amid the marshland on which the downtrodden build their homes out of sight from their magical betters. Her bright and well-groomed dress with a large fan-like fur collar hugging her neck was like a lantern in the dark seas of the Southern Straight inviting but deadly.
"Did that thing between your ears finally rot away? Hurry up." The woman shouted at Alexandre who had spaced out for a moment.
The teenager went on his knees and soaked a rag in the freezing water. He wasn't sure why would Magdallen, his stepmother thought that scrubbing the floor would somehow clean the floor but knowing the consequences for him and his sister if he disobeyed the dirt-covered planks would shine.
[Cold Resistance Increased]
A gentle ring sounded inside his head causing him to stop momentarily. A large frown appeared on his bony face as his numb fingers were clasped around the wet rag despite his willing them to open.
Quickly turning around to see if his pause was seen, he saw stepmother counting his father's money while sitting on a cushioned seat with her legs in the air and a large glass bottle.
"That lazy bitch, couldn't he had left me with more money before he hit the deck," The stench of cheap alcohol permeated the air before a strange sound filled the air as Magdallen ran her hand across her body. "Mmmm, at least Al'sam has potential." It took a lot for Alexandre to not say something to this daemon in human skin.
His father had saved as much of his fortune as he could before making a run toward the east some years ago as their family landed on the wrong side of a power struggle in a court of high nobles. Unfortunately for Alexandre and his sister, their real mother had perished due to Godloss just before they left Catalina and on the way, their good-natured father sought a new caretaker for them.
The woman from a minor nobility, even lesser in stature than them with soulless fish-like eyes wasn't liked by either of the siblings from the very beginning but the Old Senchor seemed not to notice, hoping a little time would melt the thick ice. His father would never see that moment happen as their caravan was ambushed by a horde of kobolds when they accidentally got too near the Wetlands.
Since that day, the two Senchors had seen many houses, as their supposed caretaker wasted a hard-earned fortune on frivolous things until they had ended up in the slums, where even the ground floor wasn't safe from an occasional snowflake landing inside through the many unrepaired gaps.
"I can't." He said as the cold water had stolen almost all of the heat in his hands colouring them in purple. His whisper barely reached the wall right next to him before with a swiftness of many years of experience Alex turned around. So absorbed by his pointless task he was that he hadn't noticed that his stepmother had left.
Climbing on the creaky stairs, he wasn't surprised to see Claire's glowing pink eyes waiting for him.
"What happened!?" Gasping the fourteen-year-old cleric ran over to her slightly older brother, holding his frost-biten fingers in her warm palms.
"Shhh, she left and I'm alright."
"No your not!" Seeing Claire experiencing the moment as if this was her first time seeing her sneaker brother hurt made him smile a little before he sat down near their sleep bags allowing the self-taught healer to do her work.
"Thanks, Acorn." He said ruffling up her hair in the colour of a cured oak.
"Stop it," Claire responded wobbling her head left to right trying to shake off her brother's hand while she healed one of his hands. "Alexandre... is today the day?"
"No, I'm afraid that the winter this year is a harsh one."
"I know that but, I think we could make it out there." Claire's eyes which never lost their glow stared intently at Alexandre who silently worked his jaw on his tongue thinking.
"If this was any other city, Claire I would have already left with you but... if she goes to her new lover and speaks of our escape that mage will find us."
The divination mage the Magdallen was seeing was one of these rare mages who had built their tower in the slums, towering over the common riffraff like the gods they thought they were. From what he overheard, the mage was maddeningly rich and somehow Magdallen had managed to get employed in his spire and begin to lure him.
"But why would she, she doesn't care about us, Alex. I don't understand."
"If she ever saw your hair the way they really are, she would have cut them off, Claire. I don't think her pride would allow her to let us go."
"Alexandre, I don't think I can keep seeing you come up those stairs harmed. Please, I'm sure we will make it. I can heal people for money and you..."
"Steal?" The thief said.
"No, you could get money as an adventurer. I saw through the window one of them coming back and helping his family move out while paying off their debt. If he could do all of that I'm more than confident we could escape." Claire said clinging to his hands while excitedly retailing her ideas.
"Tomorrow then, the moment she leaves again."