Chapter B4C33 - The Frozen Peak
Brom Innson shivered. Even here, within the thick, stone walls of Skyice Keep, the cold was piercing. No matter how many layers he wrapped around himself, it seemed to stab deep into flesh, driving shards of unspeakable chill right into his bones.
“By the gods, I hate this place,” he muttered to himself.
At least, he intended to keep it to himself.
“Stop whining, old man,” the fiery lass in front of him scowled, her green eyes stabbing him just as fiercely as the weather. “Some of us have been here more than a few days, and we manage to put up with it just fine.”
Not wanting to be impolite, Brom dipped his head to show his apology and wrapped his hands a little tighter around his steaming mug of tea. Even for the grizzled, gold ranked scout, there was something about Skyice that seemed to break right through his defences. Normally, he was fine in the cold. He’d spent many a freezing night on watch, up a tree or knee deep in muck, and he’d survived.
It was magick, of course. The answer was always magick. Some people were more susceptible to it than others. Warmbloods, the local Slayers called them, those people who just couldn’t seem to endure the relentless cold of the mountain.
“I don’t mean any disrespect. It’s just a little unnerving to feel this way after being a scout for so long. I’ve endured terrible conditions beyond more than one rift. It’s… odd… to be so vulnerable here.”
Green eyes assessed him carefully as the lass turned his words over a few times before she found no fault with them.
“That’s all well,” she said, taking a long sip of her tea.