This wasn't the first time no one was listening to Rhenor, and it wasn't going to be the last, but somehow it was much more aggravating than usual this time.

The snowstorms that had been showing up more and more frequently, with varying levels of destruction, couldn't be natural. They hadn't hurt anyone yet as far as Rhen knew, though he had heard of one villager who had gone hunting right before the storms had appeared and hadn't returned.

That wasn't all that unheard of, though. Going hunting during the winter months would be seen as strange where Rhen was from, suicidally stupid even, but here in the Crystal Mountains, things were very different. The people were very different. Not necessarily better, but much more resilient and resourceful. Not that Rhen cared. He just appreciated the peace and quiet, and the fact that the dragons paid no attention to this part of their kingdom.

Rhenor would have gone to try looking for the missing woman, but he, and everyone else he'd spoken with, was sure that she was probably staying in a nearby village. Rhen hadn't known her personally, but the people he'd talked to who did seemed to be of the impression she could take care of herself, so he assumed there was no need to worry.

Well, worry about her at least. Those damned snowstorms were still very much a problem, even if everyone in Arlow assumed they would just blow over and leave them and their houses alone. They thought that just because Rhenor hadn't lived here his whole life, he couldn't tell a regular snowstorm from one caused by magical means.

And Rhen wasn't having it. He'd seen magic, he'd seen what it could do and why the dragons feared it enough to make using it punishable by death, and he knew that these were no ordinary snowstorms.

And they were getting closer to Arlow each day. So far they'd only broken trees, but if a wind like this reached the village, the parts of their houses that weren't made of stone wouldn't stand a chance against it. And how useful was a house if it didn't have a roof? Or if the roof broke and fell on the people inside of it?

Rhenor sighed, glaring at his tea and forcing himself not to check his own roof. His house was small—just a single room with a couple of windows, a bed against the wall, and a fireplace on the side with a chimney—but it was enough for him. Or it would be if he didn't live on the edge of the village, closest to potential death by a mix of a huge amount of snow and winds of deadly speeds.

These thoughts were of course accompanied by the wind howling outside, as it had been doing almost without pause for two days now, which the village elders had assured him wasn't out of the norm. How long had he lived here now? Five years? He didn't remember wind like this.

A sudden knock on the door brought Rhenor out of his thoughts, and he sighed once again. If this was another person assuring him this was nothing to worry about....

The reality turned out to be very different, though. At his doorstep stood the last person Rhen thought he'd see—the black-haired stranger with the weirdly vivid brown eyes. Rhenor wasn't even sure he knew the man's name, he'd just seen him around the village a couple of times, and they hadn't spoken then. Supposedly, he lived somewhere behind the hill overlooking the village, and that was all Rhenor knew about him.

"Crazy weather, eh?" the man asked, quirking an eyebrow teasingly as he gripped the fur cloak he was covering his head with even tighter. Rhenor just gave him a blank look. If he was here for the sole purpose of mocking him—

"Er, could I come in? I have some information you might find useful," the man added, surprising Rhen once again. He was still suspicious he was being made fun of, but he stepped aside regardless, waving the man in.

Rhenor gave him a look of annoyance as the man carefully shook the snow out of his hair right onto his floor, but kept his comments to himself. Not like it would change much with the rather alarming amount of snow that had managed to already get inside from keeping the door open for a few seconds. He closed the door to put a stop to that and turned to the stranger, who had finally stopped spreading snow all over the room, and put the cloak around his shoulders.

Rhenor frowned at the thin strip of leather the man was wearing as a headband, from which hung a pebble. There was a strange, ancient-looking rule carved into it, which was odd by itself, but there was also the fact that the man's hair was not long enough to require something to keep his hair in place. It barely covered up half his ears.

"Well?" Rhenor asked when the man started looking around instead of elaborating. The man sat down, crossing his legs, and raised an eyebrow at Rhenor, who sighed and joined him opposite the table. He was looking forward to hearing out what this person had to say, if only because he could then kick him out of his home.

"Well, I heard that you think something...not natural is going on here," the man said, waving his hand. Rhen narrowed his eyes. "So, I assume you're the only person who will listen to me about a...nearby problem."

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"I know about the snowstorms already," Rhenor said, already exhausted from the conversation. The man let out a short laugh.

"Uh, no, the storms are.... That's not what I meant."

"Get to the point, then," Rhenor almost growled. The man blinked, clearly not having expected that reaction. He seemed to be attempting to keep up a positive attitude, but Rhenor wasn't sure he was glad for it. He'd rather get into a fight at this point—that would at least be interesting.

"Earthquakes! It's earthquakes," the man finally said, making Rhen completely forget about his previous annoyance as utter confusion replaced it. The man waved his hand again. "I know, I know, you haven't noticed any. They're um...more noticeable where I live."

Rhenor frowned. "You live over the hill, don't you? How much of a difference could that make?"

The man spluttered. "Well, it just does, it seems. You don't believe me? Why would I make this up?"

"To waste my time and possibly make an idiot out of me?"

The man pulled at his hair, but almost immediately stopped, his eyes widening. That just made Rhenor frown harder. "Ugh, fine, fine, just, uh, believe me?" The man made a pleading face. "Please?"

Rhen sighed. Well, he'd complained a lot about no one listening to him, he supposed he shouldn't do it to other people until he'd heard enough to make up his mind. "Fine, let's say I do believe you. Why are you telling me this?"

The man's eyes lit up. "Great, so, the problem is that for one—there aren't supposed to be any earthquakes in this part of the kingdom."

How could this man say that with such certainty? He hadn't been here long enough to even get to know the local hunting spots, let alone something this specific.

"And two," the man continued, "they are slowly getting stronger and stronger."

"Meaning?" Rhenor asked despite being quite sure he knew what the implications were. He may have also been hoping that the question would irritate the man just a little, but unfortunately, that didn't happen. His face just turned serious.

"Well, um, it's entirely possible the earthquakes will destroy this village, and probably soon, and since they aren't natural, they must be caused by magic. And I, um, might have an idea where this is all coming from."

Rhen narrowed his eyes at him. "Did you cause them?"

That would explain a lot. But the man immediately started shaking his head, his eyes wide and offended.

"No, of course not! I just, uh, well, um."

The man continued making nervous noises as he tried to come up with something, but Rhenor stopped him, not interested in hearing his lies.

"Save it."

The stranger opened his mouth immediately, but then shut it again and looked down at the table with disappointment. Rhenor sighed.

"How sure are you about this?"

The man's head shot up. "Um, very."

Rhen grimaced. Could the storms be connected to this somehow? It seemed an odd coincidence. But either way, even if this person was wrong about what he was saying, Rhenor couldn't take the chance, could he? Especially since nobody else would likely listen to him. If they didn't think the snowstorms were out of the norm, they certainly wouldn't listen to this man warning them about earthquakes they couldn't even feel.

Still, he found trusting this stranger difficult. He was clearly hiding something, but even if this was his doing—maybe particularly if it was his doing—Rhenor might need his help with this. He had no working knowledge of magic, aside from knowing that it was outlawed, that it existed, and that it was dangerous.

And that his family died because of it.

"How long do we have?" Rhenor asked, and the man's eyes lit up a little again.

"Uh, that is hard to say. But I'd say only a few days before the tremors start causing real problems."

Well, that was a little vague for Rhen's tastes, but he couldn't detect a lie in the man's voice. He stared at him for a little bit, thinking all of this over, while the man looked progressively more and more nervous and uncomfortable.

"All right," Rhenor finally said. "I'll help you."

The man grinned. "Great! So, there is a cavern beneath most of this area, and the problem is coming from there. The entrance to it is about an hour uphill from here—"

"I know it," Rhenor interrupted him, swallowing down his discomfort. He hadn't gone there himself, but he'd heard of people exploring it and never returning enough times to know it wasn't worth going in there. In retrospect, he probably should have thought of that being the origin of the snowstorms. And yes, no matter what this stranger said, Rhen was still convinced they were magical.

"There is a lot of superstition surrounding that cavern," Rhenor continued, and the man laughed nervously.

"Yeah, that would make a lot of sense, actually," he replied, scratching the back of his head. Rhenor frowned but before he could ask what he'd meant by that, the man started babbling again.

"Anyway, since you know where it is, I don't have to explain how you can get there, so—"

"How we get there," Rhenor corrected him, glaring. The man stared at him with wide eyes for a second before nodding, slowly and thoughtfully.

"Hm, yes, that might be for the best, you're right. I'll go with you."

Rhenor blinked at the man, trying to comprehend he could have been under the impression that Rhen would be going on this errand alone, but he gave up halfway through. Trying to understand this person might be beyond his abilities.

He was already starting to regret this.

"So, anyway, the cavern is rather...huge. So you might want to pack some food or something," the man continued, looking around the house as if searching for said food.

"Yes, all right. If this is as urgent as you say, we should leave as soon as the weather calms down."

"Yes, perfect, great," the man said, getting up, the chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. "I'll, um, see you then, um...."

"Rhenor Wright," Rhen finished for him. "And your name is?"

Once again, the man's eyes widened in surprise. Something told Rhenor that he didn't talk to people all that much. Rhen could relate to that, though. "Kazt—uh, Kaz! Yes, that's right, Kaz."

"Kaz?" Rhenor repeated in confusion, but the man was already leaving, quickly closing the door behind him. Where was he from to have such a strange name? Come to think of it, his accent was also quite odd for this part of the kingdom.

Rhen rubbed his eyes,sighing deeply. He really hoped he wouldn't end up with a knife in his back bythe end of this.