Qalo eyed the old circular medallion with skepticism, his apprehension for all things magical evident in the furrowed brow that framed his wide, uncertain eyes. His innate aversion and fear of the supernatural had thus far made him reluctant to meet the ghost of the high priestess, Aria. Talax, sensing his friend's hesitation, tried to coax him and soothe his fears.

"Qalo," Talax said softly, his voice laced with understanding, "if we don't trust Aria, we're going to suffer in this cold. She's the only one who can help us."

Reluctantly, Qalo nodded in agreement, still eyeing the amulet warily. Talax, with a reassuring smile, gently took his friend's trembling hand and led him to the room's wooden floor, the rough boards chilled by the mountain's relentless cold. He placed the ancient amulet between them, its surface reflecting the dim light filtering through the thick curtain that separated them from the biting mountain winds outside.

As they settled on the floor, Qalo's expression remained disgruntled, and his clenched fists betrayed his inner turmoil. Talax watched as his friend reluctantly extended his hand and touched the amulet, his large, calloused fingers making hesitant contact with its cool surface.

As soon as both of their hands made contact with the ancient artifact, Aria took on a semi-corporeal form, appearing before them like a ghost that looked a little too alive. Her visage was unchanged from the last time Talax had seen her, a striking elf woman with delicate features. Her long, flowing white hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of moonlight, adding to the otherworldly beauty with her snow-white eyes that held the wisdom of centuries. She wore a heavy gown that trailed gracefully behind her, with intricate patterns of celestial symbols that seemed to flow and change with her every move. Aria's presence exuded an aura of regal elegance, as though she were a forgotten queen of an ancient realm, returned from the mists of time.

Her voice, when she finally spoke, was a soothing melody that seemed to resonate within the very souls of the two men. "Greetings, Qalo and Talax," she said with a warm smile, her words flowing like a gentle stream. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Qalo, despite the circumstances. Please, have no fear. I am here to assist you."

Qalo inhaled sharply at the presence of Aria, his hand twitching as if ready to snatch it away from the medallion. Aria, aware of his apprehension, did her best to reassure him with a soothing tone. "Fear not, Qalo," she said gently, her ethereal form radiating warmth and kindness.

Talax, ever the mediator, jumped in, attempting to break the tension with a bit of humor. "Qalo, my friend, don't worry. She's just a ghostly tutor here to help us battle the cold. Nothing to be afraid of." He offered a comforting smile.

Talax, sensing his friend's unease, chimed in once more, "Qalo, think of it this way. Learning this skill might just be the key to surviving in this freezing place. And who knows, it might come in handy in the future." He shot Aria a grateful look, silently thanking her for her guidance. Aria nodded in agreement, her transparent form seeming to shimmer with approval.

Gradually, Qalo's tense posture relaxed, and his trembling hand steadied on the medallion. Aria then began to explain, adopting the role of a patient teacher. "The mana manipulation skill has countless applications beyond just keeping warm. It can enhance your physical abilities, heal injuries, and even augment your combat prowess. It's a versatile skill that can benefit you greatly. This particular skill, is the cornerstone of any mage's education and, interestingly, a valuable asset for warriors as well, thanks to its various applications.”

Turning her kind eyes to Qalo, she acknowledged the challenge he faced. "Qalo, I understand that learning this skill may be difficult for you due to your limited magical affinity and understanding of mana circulation," she said softly. "But fear not, I will guide you and assist you in every way I can to help you accomplish this task as quickly as possible. It may take some time, but I am confident that you will learn it eventually."

Aria's words carried a sense of unwavering support and encouragement, offering a glimmer of hope to Qalo, whose face had turned serious and uncertain the more Aria talked, doubting his ability to learn anything magical.

Talax couldn't help but marvel at the way Aria presented herself. She appeared so ethereal and yet so alive, her words carrying a certain weight of wisdom. He leaned closer to the medallion, focusing on the shimmering figure of Aria. "So, where do we begin?" he asked, eager to start their training.

Aria's form seemed to brighten with enthusiasm. "First, we'll need to attune yourselves to the flow of mana in your bodies," she explained. "Close your eyes and take a deep breath, then try to sense the mana within you, like a gentle stream flowing through your veins."

Talax and Qalo followed her instructions, closing their eyes and taking slow, deliberate breaths. The room was silent except for the howling wind outside, and Talax could feel the cold seeping in once more.

The tolling of the bell echoed through the frosty air, invading their small room, signaling the time for dinner. Talax and Qalo reluctantly opened their eyes, breaking their concentration on the Mana Manipulation skill. Qalo's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, declaring the half orc’s need for food.

Talax chuckled and patted Qalo on the back. "Just about time, my friend. Let's go and grab some food. We can continue our training later."

Qalo nodded, his expression a mix of hunger and anxiety. He glanced out at the darkening sky, where the rope bridges that connected the summits had become almost invisible against the backdrop of night. "But how are we going to cross those bridges in the dark? They were dangerous enough during the day."

Talax thought for a moment, a hint of concern creasing his brow. He knew Qalo had a point; crossing the precarious bridges at night was a dangerous prospect. Yet, the thought of going without food in their current situation was equally unsettling.

Aria, who had remained a silent observer during their conversation, finally spoke up. "Perhaps you can ask for assistance," she suggested. "There are likely others here who are more familiar with the terrain and can guide you safely to the dining hall."

Talax nodded, appreciating Aria's advice. "You're right, Aria. Let's see if we can find someone to help us navigate these bridges in the dark. I'm sure there's someone here to take pity on us and lend a hand."

With that, Talax and Qalo wrapped themselves in their meager robes, braving the cold, and ventured out of their room in search of a friendly face who could help them find their way to dinner.

Talax hurriedly pulled the ancient medallion back around his neck, hiding it beneath his robes, and they ventured out into the dark world, shrouded in mist, their breaths visible in the frigid air. The thick, swirling fog added an eerie ambiance to their surroundings, turning the once-familiar landscape into an unsettling maze of obscurity. The dim moonlight struggled to pierce through the mist, casting feeble, ghostly shadows on the rocky spires and wooden structures that dotted the summit.

Talax turned to Qalo and whispered, "Let's try knocking on the doors of these small rooms first. Maybe someone will hear us and guide us to the dining hall."

They had barely taken a step toward the nearest room when a man emerged from one of the buildings, seemingly unaware of their presence. He walked purposefully toward one of the rope bridges, oblivious to their presence. Talax called out to him, his voice cutting through the foggy silence.

The man came to a sudden halt, his features obscured by the mist, and turned to look inquisitively in their direction. Talax and Qalo hurried to catch up with him, relieved to have found someone who might be able to help them navigate the treacherous bridges in the darkness.

Talax extended a hand toward the man, and in the dim light of the misty night, they could see the intricate patterns of frost forming on his outstretched fingers. He introduced himself, saying, "I'm Talax, and this is my friend Qalo. We've just arrived at the Cloud Monasteries."

The man, who wore the same drab grey outfit as them, had a stern and somewhat unfriendly expression on his face. His sharp, angular features were partially obscured by the mist, which clung to his dark hair, making it appear even darker in contrast. It glistened with moisture in the damp air, and his narrow eyes seemed to hold a trace of suspicion.

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After a moment's hesitation, the man nodded, and a cloud of mist escaped his lips as he spoke. "I'm Kael. I haven't been here for long myself." His voice held a hint of reluctance, and he didn't seem particularly eager to engage in conversation.

Talax, undeterred by Kael's standoffish behavior, asked, "Are you headed to the dining hall? Would it be alright if we joined you?"

Kael's gaze flicked toward Qalo, his expression still uncertain, but he ultimately agreed with a reluctant nod. Talax smiled brightly at Kael's acceptance, eager to learn more about their new surroundings. As they walked toward the nearest rope bridge, he decided to continue their conversation. “So, Kael how long have you been here?” He asked in an easy manner, trying to make the man open up.

Kael didn’t turn around when he answered and Talax only heard something vague over the howls of the wind. "Two weeks, huh?" Talax probed, hoping to get more details out of Kael.

The man, however, remained reserved, offering no further information. "Yes," was his curt response, leaving Talax with an air of frustration.

Undeterred, Talax pressed on. "Are you here for training?" he asked, hoping to strike a more engaging topic.

Kael nodded with a simple "yes" once again, his demeanor not offering any further elaboration.

They soon reached the rope bridge, a swaying and precarious path that hung over the abyss below. Kael didn't hesitate; he continued walking on the planks as if it were the most natural thing in the world, not even touching the ropes on either side for support. Talax, however, wasn't as fearless. He followed after Kael, his breath caught in his throat. Visibility was limited, allowing him to see only a few steps ahead. Surprisingly, this lack of visibility worked in his favor, as it prevented him from seeing the vast emptiness beneath the swaying bridge.

As Talax and Kael made their way across the swaying rope bridge, it became evident that Qalo was struggling. After taking a couple of tentative steps, he came to a halt, clutching the ropes on one side. His grip on the ropes caused the bridge to sway even more, and the half-orc whimpered in fear.

Talax, keeping his own balance by tightly clutching the ropes that served as handrails, glanced back at his friend. Qalo's wide eyes were filled with terror, and he seemed paralyzed by fear.

Kael, impatient and unfriendly as ever, muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like an insult. He then spoke louder, addressing Talax, "I can't wait for you two for long. I don't want to be late for dinner."

Despite his growing irritation with Kael's attitude, Talax maintained his pleasant smile. He nodded at Kael and said, "Just give me a second. I'll help Qalo across."

With that, Talax rushed back to where Qalo stood, trembling and clutching the ropes for dear life. Determined to help Qalo conquer his fear of the swaying bridge, placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. Kael, nearby, let out irritated huffs and impatiently tapped his foot.

"Come on, man," Talax whispered to Qalo, trying to soothe his anxiety. "Don't embarrass us in front of that guy."

Qalo's gaze remained fixed on his feet, and he continued to take short, shallow breaths. Talax realized he needed a different approach, so he decided to appeal to their shared hunger. He grinned and said, "As soon as we cross this bridge, we can finally eat! I wonder what kind of delicious food they have at the dining hall. Maybe they'll have..." he paused, then added with mock enthusiasm, "pickled lizard tails!"

Qalo's eyes widened, and he looked up at Talax with a hopeful voice, "Really? Pickled lizard tails?"

Talax chuckled and shrugged, "Well, we'll have to see, won't we?" With that, he grabbed Qalo's hand and guided him, step by step, across the swaying bridge. Kael muttered something under his breath but stayed put, finally showing a hint of patience.

When they finally reached solid ground on the larger summit, Qalo all but collapsed in relief. The immense summit was three times the size of the one with the small structures that served as rooms for the initiates. It appeared to be a central meeting point, with the crisscrossing bridges suggesting various paths and directions to explore.

Kael urged them to hurry, warning that if they were late, there might not be any food left, and they'd have to wait for breakfast. Qalo, fueled by his hunger and determination, began walking purposefully toward their destination. As his adrenaline began to wane, Talax shivered from a gust of frigid wind.

"It's freezing," Talax commented offhandedly.

Kael turned to him with a severe expression, his tone stern. "All initiates are supposed to find solutions for themselves here. I'm not going to tell you how to stay warm."

Talax, his patience with Kael wearing thin, growled back at him, "Who asked you for help?"

The man backed off, clearly put off by Talax's response.

Kael, irritated by Talax's retort, simply muttered, "Fine, suit yourselves," before swiftly moving away, leaving Talax and Qalo behind.

Qalo watched Kael's retreating figure and shook his head. "What's wrong with this guy?"

Talax shrugged, his annoyance with Kael still lingering. "He's just an asshole."

With that settled, they continued on their way to the entrance of the dining hall, guided by the warm glow of torchlight. As they approached the building, Talax couldn't help but observe its structure.

The dining hall was a three-story building constructed from tightly assembled stones that created a sense of durability, as if the building had withstood countless storms and winters. The gray stones bore the scars of time, with subtle cracks and crevices etched into their surfaces, adding character to the otherwise austere structure.

Talax noticed there were several additional sections that appeared to have been tacked on as practical necessities, their construction slightly less refined than the original building. These newer additions lacked the weathered appearance of the main structure, their stones bearing a fresher, cleaner hue.

The entrance to the dining hall was marked by massive wooden doors that bore the scars of countless years of use. The wood had darkened with age, the grain of the timber becoming more pronounced, and the edges of the doors worn smooth from the hands of generations who had passed through them. The heavy iron hinges creaked with each push, announcing the passing of each initiate.

As they pushed the doors open and stepped inside, the warmth of the hall enveloped them, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. The interior was a cozy haven, the wooden beams overhead supported by massive stone pillars, and the torchlight casting a soft, flickering glow that danced upon the walls. The scent of burning wood and the distant aroma of a hearty meal filled the air, creating an atmosphere of comfort and welcome that instantly dispelled the chill from their bones.

Long wooden tables stretched out across the expanse of the hall, with benches on either side, offering ample seating for the inhabitants of the Cloud Monasteries. The tables were well-worn, with faint scratches and stains that spoke of countless shared meals and conversations.

Talax took in the scene within the dining hall, picking up on the subtle dynamics at play. He noticed the staircases leading upstairs, hinting at more to explore within this building. However, the heart of the activity seemed to be concentrated in the center of the room, where people gathered to eat and talk in hushed tones.

As he scanned the room, he couldn't help but notice the clear hierarchy within the Cloud Monasteries. Initiates, like themselves, formed small groups, often isolated from one another. He observed wary glances and silent animosities exchanged between some of these groups, it was clear that competition was a fundamental aspect of their training here.

In stark contrast, the brothers and sisters of enlightenment occupied separate tables, seemingly unaffected by the tensions among the initiates. They conversed amicably, even if most of them wore severe expressions, their camaraderie was evident in their interactions, however.

He noticed individuals dressed in white robes, like the ones he had spotted earlier. They sat alone, preferring to eat at tables further away than the rest and stayed mostly silent. Talax didn’t know their position in the Cloud Monasteries, but if the respect and the rigid bows they received from everyone was any indication, they were important figures among the inhabitants of the monasteries.

“What now?” Qalo inquired, drawing Talax’s attention. Talax pointed towards a queue forming on one side of the room, where fellow initiates patiently awaited their turn, each clutching an empty bowl.

“Let’s go.” He muttered and they obediently joined the queue, their actions immediately drawing the attention of their fellow initiates. As they waited with empty bowls in hand, they became the center of curious glances and subtle expressions of disapproval. It was clear that their presence had ruffled some feathers among their peers.

While Talax managed to slip under the radar, it was Qalo who bore the brunt of the initiates' judgment. He seemed unperturbed by the unfriendly glares and the not-so-subtle grimaces of distaste, but Talax couldn't help but notice a faint dimming in Qalo's usually vibrant eyes.

The queue progressed slowly until they reached a burly man in blue robes, clutching a large ladle. With a gruff tone, he demanded, "Bowl," and Talax promptly raised his hand. The man generously ladled a hearty stew into his bowl. The aroma alone was enough to set Talax's taste buds tingling in anticipation.

Once both their bowls were filled, Talax and Qalo found themselves at a crossroads, uncertain where to go next. The continued unfriendly stares and hostile glances from the other initiates didn't exactly encourage socializing. Talax spotted an empty table nearby and muttered to Qalo, "Let's go over there," leading the way to the isolated spot where they could have their meal in relative peace.

They settled at the empty table, their bowls of stew before them. As they began to eat, Talax couldn't help but notice Kael sitting at another table, surrounded by a group of initiates who kept glancing in their direction and whispering among themselves. It grated on Talax's nerves, and he muttered to Qalo, "Let's eat quickly and get out of this place."

Taking the first bite of the stew, Talax was pleasantly surprised by the simple yet flavorful combination of ingredients. The warmth and energy it infused into his body made his eyes widen in appreciation. Qalo, with his mouth full, managed to exclaim, "This is the best stew I've ever eaten, and I've had some pretty awesome stuff." He went on to recount some of the most unappetizing dishes he'd encountered in his travels, including exploding greenworms and other truly revolting things.

After they finished their meal, they left the dining hall under the watchful gazes of the other initiates. As they faced the rope bridge once more, Talax muttered in resignation. "Well, I guess at some point we'll get used to these blasted bridges, won't we?"