A fine layer of snow covered the garden in the Sworden estate. A fine flurry filled the air with thick flakes. An ivory blur obscuring vision and settling a wet chill on the clothes.

It hadn’t been near this bad back at the school, though Dovar knew it was only going to get worse. The year’s first true snowfall. Chill had struck often enough that he’d changed to boots, to not freeze his feet off. Though now, the snow was already an inch deep, and it had just started.

“At least we know you’ll have customers,” Morphos said. Brows drawn into a frown as he glowered through the haze. Or perhaps at it.

“Hopefully,” Dovar said optimistically, adjusting the ladder under his arm.

Around the emberleaf, the center of the garden, an island of summer resisted the winter’s chill. Or at the very least, early fall. It wouldn’t last forever, even the tree’s might couldn’t fight the Elusrian winters. Eventually, it too would begin saving its strength for brighter days. It just took a little longer to get the message.

“Thanks for helping, by the way,” he mentioned, leaning the ladder against the tree. A few good shakes and pushes ensured it was stuck well to the ground. Not that I couldn’t save myself, should it fall. He blinked, holding onto the sides. Did he even really need this? He could fly. Fly.

Shaking his head, he clambered up the rungs. Soon, he reached the first branch of leaves. Smoldering heat waves rose from the dark, leathery surface. Each life appeared almost as if cupping something. Within each dark-reddish frond lay grains of an ash-like material.

“Ready?” Dovar asked, donning a pair of thick leather gloves. Way too much for the cold. Thick and unwieldy, he scooped out one leaf and held it down. Morphos held out an iron bucket they’d gotten from Korfyi. In a swirl of smoke and ash, Dovar dumped it inside. A light pressure of wind kept it from spreading.

He couldn’t help a grin as they continued harvesting the ash. The emberleaf’s embers turned the chore of maintaining a fireplace into a matter of course. They’d last days if not weeks and could be stoked to flames with little effort.

“You know,” Dovar said, dropping another handful. The bucket’s bottom was now covered in a thin layer. “Things keep getting better. I can hardly believe it. It was only a few months ago that I was languishing here, living like a person four times my age.”

Dovar glanced behind him, towards the mansion. His face was set in grim lines as he considered the building. “But you got out?”

“I did. Thanks to Ranvir.” Dovar flexed an arm. The effect was minimal underneath his winter coat. Still, he grinned. “I’d been dying in those halls. Slowly, I was letting myself go. Some days I only ate a single half-boiled potato. I was withering, the fitness I’d worked for more than a decade to maintain vanishing.”

He still hadn’t gotten that physique back. He probably never would. Maintaining that kind of ridiculous form required the freedom to pursue nothing else. Even at the academy, strict as their training was, he’d been dropping out of shape. Not that he’d minded. Becoming a tethered was a more than fair trade.

“I’d lost all contact with my sister and my friends. My world had ended, yet outside everyone kept moving. One step after another. Passing me by. Ranvir showed up. He brought Esmund with him. Despite living in the same city, it was the first time I’d seen him in years. We ate a full meal over there.” Dovar pointed to one of the snow-covered roofs. “Watched the sunset together. And I had fun. I let myself have fun. I don’t know if I realized it then, but I was the one holding me back. The world hadn’t stopped moving. I had.”

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“Good for you, kid,” Morphos grumbled, receiving another handful of ashen heat. Dovar grimaced as he dispersed what little spilled over the bucket’s rim. “It’s good that you learned that lesson.”

“You speak from experience?”

Morphos grimaced. “Of a sort. I knew a man once. He was quite like you. Talented, strong, and talented without peer.”

“Well—“

“I’d gotten to know him in the later years of his life. B had a dark past, but he seemed to have moved past it.” Morphos grimaced, his expression matching the dark light in his eyes. “He had, of a sort. Buried it might be more appropriate. When it surfaces, it was as you said. The world seemed to stop. He could do nothing, would stop at nothing until he was free.” Morphos shook his head. “It took me a long time to see that he never moved past it at all. He never could. They colored his every moment and experience. He was just better at hiding it.”

Dovar leaned against a thick branch to look down at Morphos. The old veteran was no longer holding the bucket up. Instead, he’d let it fall to his side and now glowered into its smoldering depths. The faint red light reflecting bloody crimson in his eyes.

“I have many regrets in life. Not being able to stop him might be my biggest.”

“Who was he?”

“He doesn’t matter. Not here.”

“But on Korfyi?”

Morphos shook his head and hoisted the bucket. “We’ve got another two to fill. Light’s wasting.” His words were bitten and sharp.

They worked in silence for a long time. The hours passing like the slow snow slurries. Somehow, no single flake seemed to matter, yet still they piled up. Two buckets now stood on a flagstone, and Morphos held the last one.

“There’s a sort of peace to this,” Morphos said.

Dovar nodded with a smile. “There is. I could get used to this. If I could scale this up, I might retire from tethered work and simply do this.”

Morphos smiled as well. “That sounds like it would be nice.”

“You could join me,” Dovar grinned at him.

Morphos shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I couldn’t do this forever, unfortunately.” He looked out at the white pristine covering that now layered everything, except for their small circle around the emberleaf. They’d dropped their winter cloaks since the tree put out so much heat.

“This place is invigorating. In a way, I think I might have needed. But I cannot stay here forever. Or even that much longer, I don’t think.”

“Why not?”

Morphos sighed. “I… there’s so much to do back home. So many things I could help with. Things I should help with.” He rolled his shoulders and sighed. “Maybe I’m just an old man playing tricks on myself. Maybe not.”

“You’re not that old, Morphos.”

“I feel it, though.”

“What would you do? If you returned?”

Morphos shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’d find something. Wherever I turned, there was always a fire. Always someone who needed it put out.” He sounded wistful.

“But not here.”

“Not here. Not yet, at least.”

Dovar grinned. “So stay a little longer. Help me retire, then you can go back to putting out fires.”

Morphos shook his head. “It’s tempting,” he reached out, picking a snowflake from the air. It melted on his finger instantly. “This place is a wonderland. Like this snow. It’s something that could only ever happen under stressful and horrifying circumstances back home. Yet it is commonplace here.”

“Maybe in the North. But most Ankirian would’ve never seen snow. They also get some in the South, but not nearly as much as we get up here. It’s the proximity to the glaciers, we think. Makes the winters longer and harder.”

“From the way you said that, I take it there are downsides to a view like this?” Morphos looked across the garden. Their tracks had been mostly covered by the continued snowfall. It truly seemed an untouched wonder.

“It doesn’t last.” Dovar confirmed. “You tire of it. Too much cold kills just as well as a too much heat. Plants doesn’t grow, many animals hibernate. Prepare and plan throughout the entire summer to survive the winter. Do you have enough firewood, enough blankets, enough grains?”

“Unless you’re a school with constant access to year-long ready farms.”

“That is quite an extraordinary case,” Dovar said, dumping the last material. He might have missed some, but it was good enough. Three buckets hot enough to burn you for holding them too long.

He clambered down quickly, stretching and moving to free up muscles strained from lying on branches for an afternoon.

“So what’s next for you?” he asked. “Will you stay here for a while longer? Are you leaving once we get back? Are you staying until the situation with the Purists is resolved? That’s an actual local fire you might help with. One you don’t have to feel bad about.”

Morphos winked and slapped Dovar hard on the back. “You don’t have to worry about that. At this point, I’m too invested in the training. I have to see how it works out.”