“What is the situation?”

Cybil moved her hands away from the magescope to look at Hazelmere.

“Oh … look who is here. Are you done sulking?”

“Yes, what is the situation? Has anything changed?”

“You mean, in the last three days while you were hiding?”

“Look, I had to think everything over! I don’t want to repeat the same mistake again, so I had to think it over and over again for everyone’s sake!”

“Aha … and while you were thinking those monsters could have gotten out.”

Hazelmere put her hands on her hips, exaggeratedly tilting her head. Her ears perked up in a show of hostility.

“Fine …” Cybil relented, turning her head away, “what has changed is that there are no beasts to be seen on the other side anymore. As soon as the drumming started there, all the beasts have decided to run away. Do you know what that means?”

“Enlighten me.”

“It means that whatever is drumming is scary enough to make even the most blood-thirstiest of beasts run for their lives.”

“The drumming, has it continued?”

“Yes, it has never stopped. It keeps coming and going each day, in steady intervals at that.”

“Have you seen what it is?”

“No. There is absolutely nothing to be seen. Quiet!” Cybil raised her hand urgently, “Can you hear it?”

Both of them focused their ears towards the portal.

“Yes, I can hear it. But I am not so certain it is the drumming though. It is too far away to make any sense of it, the sound is completely distorted.”

“Yes, it is lost in the distance, but I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“Unless …”

“Yes, unless … although …”

“Yes, it will be much harder this time. But still, we don’t have to go all the way out there.”

---

“You want us to do, what?” Heartwell sounded much more confused than disapproving.

“We will enchant another stone with the sound catcher and take it to the portal, so we can get a better idea of what is happening on the other side,” Hazelmere explained to everyone in the command tent.

“First of all, what’s a sound catcher?”

“It is a spell, very similar to the magescope, but it gives us hearing instead of sight.”

“Why couldn’t you do that in the first place?”

“It has never occurred to us that we may need it. And … everyone was thinking of leaving back then, so I wanted us to act as soon as possible.”

“Besides, enchanting two spells on the same object causes all kinds of problems,” Cybil added.

“Ok, but how are we going to bring it to the portal? We’ve barely managed to do that when we had your fire mage. We don’t have anyone to protect us from the frost now … or do we?”

“No, we don’t have anyone, but we don’t need to take the stone catcher close to the portal. Yes, that would be ideal, but it isn’t necessary. We had to take the magescope to the top of the hill because our vision was blocked otherwise. But that is not the case with the sound since it travels over the obstacles. We just need to get it as close as we can.”

“So … you need someone to walk through the frost, as far as they can, and throw this new stone towards the portal.”

“Exactly!”

Heartwell scratched the back of his head.

“I guess wearing plenty of furs would help. Ok, I’ll be the one to go.”

That made Hazelmere’s ears shoot straight up.

“No … we can’t have you do this … it’s too risky.”

“I just need to walk through the frost, right? And, as soon as I realize my body is becoming weak, I’m to throw the stone and turn back.”

“Yes, but … there are too many uncertainties regarding the frost! Nobody has ever dealt with such a massive frost before!” Hazelmere’s tail swished left and right nervously.

“And that’s exactly why I’m the one to go. I know the limits of my endurance, and I can’t trust anyone else with it. Or, would you prefer a mage to go?”

The archmages exchanged uneasy glances between each other.

“Maybe … we can ask for a frost mage? Maybe they can handle the frost?” Mizette asked.

“It won’t work. They aren’t resistant to frost just how fire mages aren’t resistant to fire,” Natle pointed out, “Knowing how to manipulate an element doesn’t mean you are invulnerable to it. After all, Peratha is the best proof of it. Her element was the exact opposite of the frost, which is exactly why she had the best chances of surviving it.”

“What about a regular fire mage? They can’t do as good of a job as Peratha, but they could be useful.”

“You should know that the regular mages don’t have the necessary understanding of their elements to fine-tune them like an archmage does. They would most likely burn everyone inside of their spell,” Cybil said with annoying confidence.

“Well, excuse me for not being an elemental mage!” Mizette raised her voice.

“That is common knowledge.”

“All right, that’s enough!” Hazelmere interfered, “We aren’t interested in listening to Cybil bicker with anyone. Are you absolutely sure you will be fine, Heartwell?”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Heartwell’s ears twitched slightly, “As soon as I start feeling overwhelmed, I’ll turn back. Others would go on, trying to impress everyone, but not me. Unlike the other soldiers, I have nothing to prove.”

Hazelmere took a deep breath and sighed: “All right then … I will put my faith in you. But please, don’t make me regret it. I am already responsible for losing the Empire’s greatest offensive mage. I don’t want to add its greatest commander to the list.”

Heartwell bowed slightly: “I’m not the greatest commander, but you have my word.”

And with that, everyone left the tent, leaving the Hazelmere to rub her hands nervously.

However, she eventually realized that sitting around and doing nothing will only make things worse, so she went to get Mizette to help her with the enchantment. She figured that enchanting the stone herself would give her mind something else to focus on.

It took them a good portion of the day. Meaning that, by the time the stone was ready, there wasn’t much time left before the Sunset. So, Hazelmere decided to postpone Heartwell’s mission for the next day.

Early in the morning, everything was ready.

“Here is the stone.”

Heartwell extended his arm, opening his palm, which was barely visible under all the furs he had on him. He took the stone, putting it in the sack on his waist while breathing heavily.”

“I swear, I’ll die from overheating before I ever reach the frost.”

“Do you want us to take some furs off?”

“No, I’ll need all of it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to take anyone with you?”

“There’s no point. I’m going now. I don’t want to spend a single moment longer under these furs than necessary.”

He started moving slowly and clumsily. It took him a long time to get out of the earshot.

“Do you think he will make it?” Cybil leaned in to whisper in Hazelmere’s ear.

“Honestly, I don’t know. But I chose to put my faith in him, and I am curious to see if he delivers.”

“Still playing with people’s lives? Didn’t you learn anything from Peratha’s death?”

“Quite the contrary, I learned a lot from it. And I am committed to learning even more. Last time, I have ignored my subordinates, so I am curious to see if trusting them will make any difference at all.”

Cybil’s face turned blank: “That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“It’s all his fault … I guess it’s his turn to take responsibility now … or maybe he did it intentionally … doesn’t matter either way.”

Hazelmere turned and walked away, followed by Cybil’s worried stare.

---

Time passed slowly. With nothing better to do than wait, every moment felt like an eternity.

The noon passed without any news. Noticing that the dusk has arrived, Hazelmere let out a labored, disappointed sigh.

“I guess I did it again.”

Sitting on the bed, she hunched forward, cradling her face in her hands.

“Strange … it isn’t the sadness or the guilt I’ve felt for Peratha and the others … I guess there’s some truth to what he was saying.”

She sat like that for quite some time, lost in thought.

Until she noticed the noise rising in the camp.

She stood up, slowly and limply, and headed out of the tent.

“I guess it’s time to hear some more complaints. I’ve already turned the mages against me, I bet I did the same with the soldiers too.”

She moved the curtain at the entrance away, leaving the tent. As soon as she did, Mizette jumped in front of her.

Or rather, away from her, since she let out startled squeak mid-air.

“EEKKK! You scared the heavens out of me!”

“Am I not allowed to leave my tent?”

“Are you ok? You are as pale as a ghost!” Mizette asked as soon as she had recovered.

“Ha! It already shows, huh? Anyway, why are you here? Have the soldiers become restless?”

“Well, of course!”

“Are they coming this way?”

Mizette’s startled face turned into a confused one: “No, everyone is running to see Heartwell.”

Hazelmere’s ears perked up slightly: “Have they recovered him?”

“They are recovering him right now. Some soldiers saw his silhouette in the distance, so they ran towards him.”

“They saw him standing?”

Only now realizing what may be the cause of her sunken looks, Mizette poked Hazelmere’s nose gently.

“He wouldn’t make much of a silhouette laying down, wouldn’t he?”

After blinking a few times, Hazelmere finally realized.

“Oh … ohh!”

Then, she started running at full speed, without a second thought.

Reaching the camp’s entrance, Hazelmere saw a group of soldiers approaching from the outside. Most of them were surrounding the four soldiers who carried an improvised stretcher.

And on the stretcher, they carried a big pile of furs.

“Move away! Move away! And go get a healing mage! Get the archpriestess too!” Kortan, who was at the head of the group, yelled at the gathering crowd.

The soldiers moved aside with practiced quickness, clearing the path. They grabbed the few mages who didn’t get a gist of what Kortan was asking them to do.

Hazelmere joined Kortan immediately.

“How is he?”

“He’s still alive, still conscious, but Sun’s warmth is leaving him!”

“Let’s take him to Natle! Follow me!” Hazelmere raised her voice as she yanked Kortan in the other direction.

Thankfully, Natle’s tent wasn’t far. Hazelmere and Kortan entered first, followed by the four soldiers who carried Heartwell on the stretcher. They raced so fast, they’ve managed to tear up the entrance to the tent, trying to enter it at the same time.

Natle, already in her nightgown and lying in her bed, was clearly flustered.

“What, what, what are all of you doing here? What’s going on?”

“He needs your magic!” Hazelmere commanded, pointing behind her.

There, the soldiers put the big ball of furs on the ground. Natle stared at it, not knowing what they expected her to do.

All of a sudden, she jumped out of her bed, almost running through the tent and making another exit in the process.

“I don’t know how to heal the beasts!”

“It’s not a …”

“Get it out of here! Get it out of here!”

Hazelmere frowned deeply as she approached the healer.

“I wonder if this will work!”

SLAP!!!

Hazelmere let her hand hang in the air after the slap, expecting Natle to notice it.

Which she did.

“It’s not a beast! It’s Heartwell, covered in several layers of furs! Don’t you know he set out today to set up the sound catcher? His body is suffering from frost damage, and we need you to take care of him! Right … now!”

Then she turned towards the soldiers.

“And I want all of you out! But not you, big boy, I want you to stay! I need one soldier to stay here because I don’t want anyone spreading the rumors how the mages had fiddled with your commander when they were all alone with him, and you look like the reliable sort! Everyone else, out! Not you, Mizette! Natle may need some of our magic!”

As soon as Natle realized she’s not in danger, she got to work. It didn’t take her long to finish casting the needed spells. Hazelmere and Mizette stood nearby to lend their mana, but there was no need for it. Kortan just kept quiet, carefully watching everything Natle did.

“Ok, I did everything I can.”

“But he is still shaking!” Hazelmere pointed out.

“Yes, because the frost has drained the warmth from his body. His body is still suffering from the aftereffects of the frost, but everything else about it is fine now. All we can do is keep him warm. The rest is in the hands of the gods.”

“Maybe we can bring the archpriestess? Maybe she can help if his soul was drained?”

“No, his soul wasn’t drained. All his body needs right now is warmth. Putting him in the sunlight would be perfect, but the night is about to fall. There is nothing else we can do.”

“What’s with that face … Kortan?” Heartwell spoke softly, something which was very uncharacteristic for him to do, “Do you honestly think that … some cold … can get the better of me?”

“That would sound reassuring if you could stop shaking,” Kortan responded.

Heartwell gave him a weak smile.

Seeing the look in his eyes, Hazelmere kneeled next to him, grabbing his hand. It felt as if she took hold of an ice cube, but she didn’t let the unpleasantness show.

“I must say, you did great. You did what you’ve set out to do, and you came back. It would be such a shame for you to die after all of that.”

“Your hands … they’re so warm … so, comforting …”

Hazelmere grasped his hand tighter.

“I’ve just realized … something. You see … there’s a way to … raise the warmth of one’s body … very quickly.”

Hazelmere opened her mouth to ask what, but she quickly realized it herself.

Putting his hand back on the ground, she slapped his forehead, the only part of his face that wasn’t covered in furs.

“Go nail yourself, peasant!” She yelled at him before rushing out of the tent. Kortan’s loud laughter could be heard even from the outside.

“What was that? What was that?” Mizette followed her, almost jumping along the way while speaking in a teasing, playful voice, “Is my Hazelmere showing some affection for a dark-skinned peasant?”

“It’s not affection! He did something admirable, so it’s only natural, for a good leader, to praise her subordinates when they do something like that.”

“Oohhh? Are you sure? Are you sure that’s all there is to it? You may regret it later if you’re not being honest right now. I don’t remember you praising any of your subordinates before. Besides, you know I can keep a secret.”

“… we need him at his best.”