We left Aresford behind, heading back towards Colkirk. It felt the best option, at least with my existing wealth and capabilities. I wanted to polish my skills a little more before trying my luck with one of the various masters across the kingdom, and the great city without winter seemed an excellent place to do that.

The journey was uneventful, though it gave me ample opportunities to think about how best to improve Force Step. It was now strong enough that it risked injury with just one casting, but early testing found that my strengthening spell helped mitigate that flaw.

However, that did little to dull the disorientation that came with launching myself several dozen feet in any one direction at blinding speeds. It also did not fix a secondary flaw, which was predictability. I knew full well that the spell left me vulnerable to counterattacks, and no obvious solution presented itself.

I could rely on my armor, but was that the best idea? It felt crude, and while I had no problem fighting crudely when needed, that felt like the wrong path to start down.

Finally, about a month after leaving Aresford, we reached our destination.

I had known Colkirk would be far busier than the last time we had visited, if only by reputation. The city was the premiere destination for indulgent nobles seeking refuge from winter and curious mages hoping to crack The Crashing Storm's legacy.

However, the reality was far beyond my imagination.

I saw the first tents at least a mile from the city's border. They were small and ramshackle, built around flickering fires with horses and the like tied off nearby. I could not sense mana coming from these camps, so I walked past them without slowing down.

As I walked, these camps turned into half-built, hastily constructed towns of wood and stone. Dozens of men and women milled between the buildings, and I could see a few that might have been shops or taverns, with signs driven into the hard, icy dirt.

Again, I kept going even though the mana flowing from a few of the buildings almost caused me to stop. I could sense it twisting, clearly under the influence of at least one mage, and made a mental note to return and investigate further.

Soon, Colkirk came within view, and I drew up short as my eyes widened.

It was as if a second city had sprung up around the first overnight. Buildings clustered fields and crested hills, ringing Colkirk proper in stone and wood. I could see hundreds, even thousands of people walking along the road and between these buildings, and the noise around me had grown from loud to deafening.

I glanced around and eventually spotted a man standing not far off the road. He was in his sixties, in excellent shape with close-cut gray hair, and dressed in such a way that hinted at wealth but did not announce it. Other people, workers judging by their attire and demeanor, wove around him as they set up several stalls, taking goods from the backs of maybe a dozen nearby trade carts.

"Excuse me," I said as I walked closer, and the man turned towards me. His face had a scowl on it for a moment, but that changed into a polite, faintly scheming smile when he saw my appearance.

I could guess why, too. Not many teenagers would travel to Colkirk alone, and he rightfully assumed I was a mage. Or wrongfully assumed I was a noble.

"Can I help you, sir?" he asked, a faint accent that I could not place blending his words together.

"Yes, you can," I nodded and gestured towards the city, "Could you tell me what all of these buildings are? I visited Colkirk once, and there were nowhere near as many then as there are now."

"When did you last visit?"

"About six months ago."

The man nodded, "That'd do it. Not many nobles come in the summer months. But once winter comes? Nowhere busier in the kingdom. Well, except the capital."

"Are all of these nobles?" I asked, trying to keep the surprise from my voice. There were thousands of mages within Ferris, but I doubted so many had come to Colkirk.

He shook his head, "No, sir. Most are traders and workers. We help set up these towns and the like in the winter, then move on in the spring."

I nodded a few times as I digested his words. It made sense, all things considered. All these nobles came to Colkirk with gold in their pockets, and these traders followed, likely bringing goods from all corners of Ferris. Some might even be workers and laborers, helping shore up businesses within the city that might require extra hands.

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"And you are a trader, then?" I asked.

The man smiled, "Yes, sir. Hailing from Aranth. We come bringing the finest liquors and ales, dyes, and fabrics you can imagine. Would you like to take a look?"

Aranth was among the wealthiest cities in Ferris, one of two controlled by the Southbornes. It was a hub of luxury goods, producing the most expensive dyes, liquors, fabrics, and delicacies within the kingdom. I had never visited or even had the slightest interest in visiting until recently. It always struck me as a place ill-suited for a commoner and a great way to lose more gold than seemed wise.

But saying as much felt rude, so I smiled and shook my head, "Another time, maybe. After I have found a place to stay for the evening."

His eyes sparked, "We can put you up if you'd like, sir. Plenty of room in our camp."

And he wanted a chance to make nice with a mage. I suspected his kind demeanor was not wholly fake, but Simon's father had taught me a valuable lesson. You did not become a wealthy trader by letting opportunities slip by.

"I hoped to find a place within Colkirk," I replied, evading the offer.

He winced, "Ah, not much chance of that, I'm afraid. Most places in the city will be full up til spring by now. You can try your luck, but..."

I glanced further along the road, holding back a sigh before turning back to him and smiling, "Well, best check now, I suppose, before it gets too late. I might be back. Thank you for the assistance."

"Of course, sir. Take care!" he shouted as he took a few steps back, then turned to start barking orders again. His workers, seemingly taking the chance to slack off, jumped and busied themselves with unloading various crates once more.

I chuckled at the sudden personality change, shaking my head as I turned and walked towards the city proper.

***

"I'm sorry, sir. We don't have any rooms available," the young man behind the counter said.

I nodded, trying not to show any frustration as I replied, "I see. And how long would you say until you had an opening?"

He cleared his throat, then replied, "At least a month. Sir."

"And there is no chance of any rooms becoming available sooner?" I pressed, "Do you know any other places that might have some?"

"You can try the Blue Waves Inn down the street by the waterfront," he said, "They recently expanded and might have a few extra rooms. Otherwise, no, sir. Unfortunately, we have already promised any openings to other patrons."

His voice was unflinchingly polite and respectful, which almost made it worse. I could not say I would prefer rudeness, but his tone struck me as almost patronizing.

I sighed, then smiled, "Well, thank you regardless."

He gave another perfunctory response, but I was already walking away, stepping outside to the packed city streets.

This was the sixth inn I had visited since arriving in Colkirk, and it was just as much a dead-end as the others. I had known the nicest places would not have any openings and not bothered with them, but this was worse than I had anticipated.

Truthfully, I had not wholly believed the trader, and he had oversold it a hair, but the earliest openings were still three weeks out and would cost more gold than I would prefer to spend at once.

While I might be able to track down somewhere with a free room or two, it seemed a long shot. I had already tried the Blue Waves Inn, and they quoted me a waterfront room for a small fortune in a month's time. Hardly a realistic option.

I walked to the side of the street, leaning against a wall and closing my eyes. Camping out the city with those traders was not the end of the world. A group of seemingly respectable people might provide me some safety, but it was also a risk. They were strangers that I did not trust. I would need to keep one eye open and take all my possessions with me whenever I went into the city.

For a moment, I weighed leaving the city altogether. If I did so now, I could make it to another place before winter became too harsh. Then again, I was here now and had an easy option available. Might as well make the best of an annoying situation.

I sighed before pushing myself off the wall and making for the city entrance again. Even if I did not trust the trader's motives, beggars could not be choosers.

***

The older man went by Darius and was, by all accounts, a seasoned traveler and trader. He had gone everywhere, from Volaris and Colkirk to as north as Aresford and as far as the eastern wilds. He even claimed to have traded with the Tinkerers a few times, though I suspected this was a lie.

Darius had gladly provided me a spot within his camp, seemingly happy to have a mage amongst them. I suspected it was primarily self-motivated, but he hid those selfish interests behind a layer of genuine friendliness.

I spoke with him in the evenings, plying him for information on his travels and his home. Aranth was home to the healer I hoped to study under in the future, and it seemed prudent to learn more about the city now rather than walk in blindly later.

Days passed, and I settled into a routine. Every morning, I walked to Colkirk with my pack and swordstaff. I wandered the streets, listening to conversations, peering into shops, and watching performers use strange, often esoteric, magic to conjure lights and move objects. Various nobles and mages seemed to take to the city's atmosphere, relaxing and showing off in decidedly unbecoming ways.

I doubted I could match half of their abilities even with months of training, but still, I watched.

I watched as fire mages created flames that burned bright yet remained cool enough to walk across bare skin without singing a hair. I saw water mages weave together liquids of a dozen shades, forming rainbow serpents and shimmering dragons that flowed through the air overhead. Earth mages tore rock from the streets, forming them into perfectly lifelike sculptures of passing travelers and earning praise and gold for their efforts.

More than ever, I was sure that something, some aspect of a mage, colored their mana in subtle, undeniable ways. It went beyond just mana gathering techniques and into something deeper. I had no idea what it meant, but I could not shake the feeling that this held at least some hints towards the more fundamental secrets of magic.

I recorded everything in my notes, and when that grew repetitive, I would find a quiet spot beside the water to meditate—or, rather, as quiet a spot as possible within such a city. There, I would try to push my senses as far out as possible, delving deep into the earth and water in search of something—anything that might hint at the long-dead Archmagus' secrets.

I found nothing, of course, but it helped polish my sensory abilities further, so I did not consider the time wasted.

Returning to the camp at night was strange, almost like stepping out from a warm home into the streets, but more stark and jarring. The magical effect did not wane so much as stop, to the point where you could stick an arm through the insulating barrier and feel icy cold on your hand and a pleasant spring breeze on your face.

In between everything else, I worked on my new technique. I had yet to name it, but I had finally decided upon one for my strengthening spell: Mana Body. It was not a particularly creative name, but I wanted something for my notes.

Sure, it felt a bit self-indulgent to name my half-finished techniques, but it helped break up the monotony of training and study. They were lonely practices, often boring things regardless of the results.

Weeks passed, and so it was that winter fell upon a city that it would never touch again.