The twin souls known as Heat and Cold found themselves in the training yard once more, this time with Paladin Allison as their sparring partner while Michael the Armsmaster watched over them. Heat couldn’t help but feel annoyed that he didn’t want to spar with them again, but Cold knew that he was right to be cautious after what happened last time. And the two could feel the thoughts and feelings of the other, they knew how and why they felt that way, but they could also feel that those weren’t their feelings. It was an unusual sensation, and it distracted them as a strike from Allison’s cudgel came flying at them, Cold just barely deflecting it with a spray of ice shot from her wyrmic mouth.

The ice wasn’t really ice, it was more the idea of ice made manifest for a short time. It evaporated as it hit the ground, and Heat took advantage of the opening to land a hard jab at Allison’s gut, a burst of flame jetting out of it as Allison side-stepped to dodge. Once again, the fire was less actual fire and more the idea of fire, heat and harm jetting forth without a source of fuel and petering out without leaving behind a scorch mark.

The exercise here was control more than power. They both knew just how easily they could cause Allison real harm, how easily the ice could bite and the fire could sear, more a part of them than anything else. And now that they weren’t fighting against each other, struggling with Heat’s intensity and Cold’s calculating nature clashing and fighting for control, it was a lot easier… but not effortless.

A gust of wind and dust erupted as the two swapped places, Cold smoothing into the head as Heat erupted from the small of their back in a burst of flame, a tiny phoenix the size of a mouse darting about to harass the temporarily-blinded Allison, spitting more jets of not-flame at her from different angles. Cold stepped back before leaping forwards in a jumping spin kick, Allison’s distraction preventing her from stopping the foot from smashing into her face.

As Allison fell, Cold caught her balance and reached down a hand, helping the paladin stand up again, one of her hands rubbing at her jaw.

“You fight dirty,” said Allison. “Good. Someone with your specialty can’t afford to hold back, not against someone who won’t hold back either. Now let’s keep going.”

The two took a step back once more, gave each other a small bow, and went into their respective fighting stances. Cold held back, watching for the slightest twitch. Allison swung, testing her, and Cold formed a pair of icy gauntlets on her arms, catching the swing and twisting the cudgel out of Allison’s hand, then uppercutting her in the sternum. Allison was prepared however, and caught the punch before sending out a haymaker of her own, catching Cold in the shoulder.

“You’re pretty smart yourself. But I guess you’d have to be, to survive that… hatred plague. How many towns were lost to it?” Cold asked.

“Too many. This city used to be a small farming village, and there’s still a lot of small farms spotted all across it. It’s good to have another soldier in this war, instead of another problem.”

Allison tried to do a front kick, but she wasn’t used to the motion and Cold easily dodged… but then, Allison hadn’t been trying to catch her with it, just to get her to back off so she could dive for her cudgel.

Another gust of wind kicked up dust and Heat threw out more of that not-fire, forcing Allison to dodge and weave between the jets. Cold poked her avatar out of their shoulder, hissing and spitting small shards of not-ice to keep Allison distracted while Heat lined up for a side-kick, sending Allison sprawling on the ground once again- but Allison was catching onto their strategy and used her cudgel to sweep Heat’s leg out from under her, sending them both toppling to the dirt. Allison used the opportunity to whack her cudgel against Heat’s sternum, and the wind from the two swapping places again did little to stop the blow.

Cold leapt to her feet in a single smooth motion, then winced at the bruises that last blow had left. Helping Allison to her feet, the two walked up to Michael to hear his comments.

“Allison, you did well against an unfamiliar fighting style, though you need to focus more on avoiding distractions. Sophie- er, heat? No, wait… drat, which one of you am I talking to?” he said.

Cold formed a circlet of ice around her forehead to help him figure it out for himself.

“Right, Cold. You two did well, but your control still needs work. Allison has a few more scorch marks and frostbite marks than she did before today’s training,” he continued. Ice couldn’t help but look ashamed for them both, noticing for the first time the places where their not-ice and not-fire was closer to real ice and real fire than intended.

Allison went off to get her injuries looked at, but they were thankfully minor; when she came back, she found Michael training Heat and Cold in using a cudgel again. Their focus was better than what she had observed last time, and it was interesting to see how the two were different; Cold tended to fight defensively, focusing on blocks and counters, taking advantage of possible openings. Heat on the other hand fought aggressively, constantly moving around and pressing her opponent. It was interesting to witness how the same body could fight in such different ways, though she couldn’t help but wince at her (thankfully minor) wounds.

And better yet, Heat and Cold hadn’t lost control. The two of them would be observed carefully over the next few days, and Allison knew that she would be dragged into it- she had found them, she was now responsible for them- but… she didn’t think she would quite mind. The two were interesting in a way that felt… innocent.

She couldn’t help but worry how they would break when they actually went out to fight.

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Last Stand – it hadn’t originally been named that, but people started calling it that, and it eventually stuck – was, all in all, a fairly pleasant place. The people were surprisingly warm; as one old woman who had stopped to chat with Heat and Cold had mentioned, they had turned to each other to survive the end of the world, and there was no point in being cruel when the Plague was doing its damn best to hurt people.

Allison watched the two all the while, making sure they didn’t do anything rash. There was a brief moment where she nearly leapt forwards when a kid accidentally crashed into the two’s body, Heat flaring out a haze of heat, but Cold took care of it, taking over their body, telling the kid to be more careful, and ushering him on.

The three of them eventually walked on to what looked on the surface like a stereotypical fantasy tavern, but slightly taller; as they walked inside, Heat and Cold noticed that the ground floor was a common room with bathrooms to the side (including a surprisingly functional shower system and flush toilets, though there was no hot water), while the upper two floors held a number of small bedrooms. The beds were fairly narrow and were stuffed with straw, but they were oddly softer than either one had expected.

“This will be your room now,” said Allison. “The previous inhabitant died in her sleep, but we’ve cleaned it up, don’t worry.”

Cold made a face at that tidbit, but after a second quick inspection of the bed, it seemed to be fine.

“Well, we have a few days before we’re sure it’s safe to send you into combat, which means that you’ll need to do work elsewhere- we’ll have you training in the mornings and doing other labor in the afternoons. If you have any skills we could use, just say so- otherwise you might be stuck doing something no one wants to do, like tanning.”

Heat balked at that- the two of them knew just enough about the tanning process to understand just how much it smelled- and quickly took over their mouth, saying, “No no, no need for that! We can cook and bake and wash dishes, no problem!”

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“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” said Allison, making a face. “Well, the chefs are always looking for more help, let me take you there, see if they’ll have you.”

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As it turned out, the cooks were looking for more help- specifically dishwashers, since they didn’t trust Heat and Cold with the food supplies.

“We don’t have enough ingredients for you to burn something!” the head chef had said. Heat had burned internally at that, and Cold couldn’t help but agree with Heat. Still, they were able to help out where they could- their new magics served them well in such a domestic environment, letting Heat start fires and refuel cooking enchantments (and Cold noted those with excitement, eager to learn how to make things like that), having Cold make ice to keep things preserved, and having the both of them use their magic in tandem to create whipping winds to dry the dishes they had washed.

It was mundane, but there was a surprising camaraderie in it all. Especially since the kitchen workers had a habit of singing songs, and Heat and Cold were more than happy to lend their voices to it, even if the lyrics were sometimes a bit sad.

“I remember the time befooooore. I remember how it used to be. We don’t have much anymore, but we give what we have for free.”

There were always hungry people, and they needed to make use of every single bit of food they had- most people were still hungry at the end of the day, even if they weren’t starving. Heat saved up every ounce of fury at witnessing this, at seeing good people suffering for no reason, knowing that she would need that rage later on. That their stomach had begun to growl a little throughout the day didn’t go unnoticed, either.

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After three days, Heat and Cold were finally given the approval to go out and fight and given a gambeson and arming cap to wear, plus a leather backpack with a bedroll. Inside it was various supplies, including bandages, a little bit of food, and a waterskin. Allison stood by them as they walked out the front gates of Last Stand, accompanied by several others and a wooden cart small enough to be pulled by hand; Heat couldn’t help but pick at the gambeson, it was kind of hot and itchy, and Cold did her best to sooth the discomfort with her magic. As they walked onwards, Allison introduced them.

“These are Paladin Jack, Anders, and Sally,” Allison said, each person giving a small nod or wave as they were introduced. “Everyone, this is Heat and Cold. They have a dual soul. As for magic, Jack can heal wounds, Anders can make our travels faster, Sally is stronger than most, I can enhance other people’s magic, and Heat and Cold can make fire and ice. Today, our job is to scout out a village that fell the other day and see what we can scavenge; our first priority is edible food, but tools and metal are good too. Fill your packs up as much as you can once we’re there, but make sure you’re not too burdened to make the trip back. Now, let’s move out!”

Sally took up the cart and they all began to walk. The strangest sensation happened as they moved, however- it was as if time began to slip by, because every time Heat and Cold tried to look at their surroundings, they were somewhere completely different. Forest, then plain, then swamp, and at one point they could have sworn they saw a field of black stones jutting out of the ground. How long had passed, they couldn’t be quite sure, their minds kept fuzzing every time they tried to focus.

Still, the group did eventually make their way to an abandoned village, and the dizziness stopped. Cold found that she was in control of the body now- apparently they had both swapped back and forth to try and avoid the discomfort- and she gazed around at where they now were.

To be honest, she had expected worse. There was some damage, but most of the buildings were still intact. A small patch of beanstalks were even growing in a patch of dirt nearby, and only two out of the few dozen sticks holding them up were broken. But despite all that, the evidence of the missing people was everywhere- dropped items, some of which crushed underfoot, and plenty of overturned wheelbarrows… and a small doll smashed into the dirt by a bootprint.

Cold leaned down to pick it up, brushing some dirt off of it before putting it in a pants pocket. It didn’t take up much room, and even if she never found the child it belonged to, someone would want it regardless.

She watched as Anders was carefully picking crops from the fields, Sally was hauling big bags of flour from various houses to the cart- and Cold let out a small jump and a yelp as she felt a hand on her back.

“Sorry! I forget to warn people sometimes,” said Anders from behind her with a chuckle. “This is your first scavenging trip, yeah? Come on, I’ll show you what to look for.”

The two wandered outwards in a spiral pattern, ducking between and behind buildings to see what they could find. The whole time, it was difficult to focus on Anders; he always seemed to be just a little bit away from where she thought he was, and he never seemed to move in a straight line even when he was.

“Most houses have a small larder attached to the kitchen; merchants and other wealthy folk might have a stasis or freezing enchantment on theirs, but even poorer folk will have a bag of flour and a jar of leavening,” he said as they ducked in and out of houses, grabbing food from the kitchens- mostly bags of flour, but many also had dried or smoked or pickled meats and vegetables. The work wasn’t very exciting- and witnessing the absence of people was unnerving- but Cold knew it was essential work that needed to be done.

Cold had lost track of Anders at some point, and she wasn’t quite sure when. The man seemed to slip out of one’s field of view if you weren’t paying attention, and she suspected his power related to travel had something to do with it. Still, now she knew what to look for, and it wasn’t difficult to scavenge over the buildings herself. A bag of flour here, some pickled turnips there, all brought back to the wooden cart. As she was looking through another house, however, she found someone there- a villager who had been left behind, perhaps? It was a woman lying on the floor of her home, her dress tattered and stained with blood. She seemed unconscious, and Cold leaned down to feel the woman’s breath; she was breathing, which was good, but she didn’t seem to wake up when prodded. Cold stood back up to go get help, but as she turned her back, she heard a snarl and felt something bite her leg. She let out a yelp and kicked at whatever was biting her, and Heat spat out a jet of flame at it- at the woman who had been unconscious just a moment ago, and who was now acting more like a rabid dog than a person.

Cold formed a suit of icy armor over her gambeson then kicked out at the woman’s head, her newly hard boot cracking against her skull. But instead of staying down, she scrambled to her feet, lashing out with her fingernails like claws. They were easily blocked, though they left small gouges in Cold’s armguards.

“Snap out of it!” Cold cried out. “Stop attacking me, wake up and just stop!”. But the woman wasn’t listening, and her sharpened nails lashed out upwards, the woman standing up with her strike.

It was horrifying, now that she wasn’t blinded by wrath. The woman before her was just lunging at Cold, with no concern for catching her breath or listening or anything. Her face was frozen between agony and fury, and her eyes didn’t move an inch from Cold’s body.

Cold thickened her gauntlet and punched the woman in the head, hard, and she faltered for a moment before sluggishly continuing to attack.

“They have healing magic here,” Heat communicated mentally. “They can heal her back up. Just… break her limbs and jaw, I guess? It’s not pretty, but it’ll stop her from attacking so we can take her back to the rest and see if we can get her help.”

Cold grimaced, then lashed out with a side kick to the woman’s knee, breaking her leg; as the woman fell down, Cold hammer kicked her arms one by one, then her other leg, cleanly breaking them. The woman still struggled, her torso writhing, and she didn’t seem to feel any pain from it, but she at least was disabled. Cold picked her up, keeping fingers away from her mouth, and dragged her out to the rest.

Allison was hauling a flour sack back to the cart when she spotted Cold and the person she was carrying, Allison wincing as she saw them.

“An infected got left behind, eh? Damn… I guess I should have told you. There’s no good way to put this…” said Allison with a sigh. “The Infected aren’t… they’re not alive anymore. Not really. We’ve done everything we can to figure out what happened, and what we know is this: the Infected have an infectious magic. It twists whoever they manage to take down, turning them into another Infected. The exact process varies, because it twists their very soul and magic rather than replacing it. Whoever she was before, there is nothing left of her now but blind hatred and obedience for her new King. The only thing we can do to help her is to put her down, like we have done to all the rest we encounter.”

Cold was horrified and tightened her grip on the woman. “She’s still alive, though! There has to be something we can do for her! I won’t just kill a woman for being hurt or sick!” she said.

“Do you think we haven’t tried? That we just decided to kill our neighbors and loved ones for no reason? Their original personalities aren’t just suppressed, they’re gutted, leaving almost nothing left so that the infection can take control!” yelled Allison. “If you remove the infection, there’s not enough left to make a person! They just sit there, unable to care for themselves, unable to do anything without someone else making them! And we don’t have the resources to care for thousands if not millions of people with dead brains!”

Cold felt her heart crack in half, and Heat gently took over, their circlet switching from ice to fire.

Tears dripping down her face, Heat placed the woman down and aimed her palms downwards at her. With a will of effort, she summoned up the hottest fire she could- she poured her anger at the situation, her feelings of helplessness, her confusion and all of Ice’s feelings too, and the fire burned, hotter than hot. It continued like that for a few minutes, and when the glare cleared and the flames died out, all that was left was a pile of ashes in the vague shape of a body.