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Arrats was amazed that the boy's prediction had been spot-on. Dark clouds spilled out over the grasslands from the south and furiously boiled. So far, they had not quite settled overhead, but Arrats was certain that that small felicity would soon expire. The clouds were pregnant with rain, and their labor pains roared constantly in the distance. Arrats watched as the last few miles between their small party and the cloud front closed in scant minutes and continued to charge toward the mountains to the north. The black sea above her roiled and pulsed, but despite the approach of sunset and the overcast, it was still bright enough for Arrats to see Inlé reading by stormlight as Fernweh continued chanting.

"Fernweh," Arrats called over the storm. "I don't mean to rush you, but how much longer?"

The old man cackled into the storm, "Almost done, girly, Almost done! Alright, ye two, 'op on t' me blanket!"

Inlé and Arrats obeyed, and all three stood atop the blanket of Fernweh's bindle as his chanting reached it climax. Suddenly, in the distance the rain began. A wall of water roared rapidly toward the party. Arrats watched the worst storm she'd ever seen in her hundred years adventuring stampede toward her and said a prayer for any who were out beneath the torrent, and another for herself and her own survival. Just before the wall of water overtook them, Fernweh cried out and Arrats found herself surrounded by darkness and silence. She heard a quiet scraping noise, and a small flame flashed into being, then dulled to embers.

Fernweh chuckled. "A bit close, eh?" he said around something in his mouth.

Gathering her wits, Arrats created a light above her head and saw her companions once more. The cave they were in was small, barely six feet high and likely less than twice that wide. She saw only one passage out of the 'room', and that cramped. Leaving, she decided, would be unpleasant.

"We are safe here, then, despite the storm?" Inlé asked.

"O' course. This could be th' worst storm t' reach th' grasslands in a few hundred year, an' this 'ole'll weather it out real 'andsome-like. It's thirty feet down that passage t' th' surface, twenty below us. Water flows away from this 'ole. Only way it'll get in's if it floods th' plains below f'r good. Pray that'll not 'appen while th' Archcardinal is with us. Aurora would sore miss their 'ead when th' barriers are tested, t' be sure."

"That, I wouldn't worry overmuch about, thank you," Aurora said confidently. "The others in the tower can handle just about anything that could be thrown at them." Her faith in her attendants was genuine, but she still hoped such a trial would not occur in her absence. Factional disputes would only cause trouble with her absence. Doubt gnawed at her for a moment, then she steeled herself once more to the task at hand.

"What should we do next?"

"Travel will be difficult for the remainder of the day, and may in fact be detrimental," Inlé said. He sat back against the stone wall and pulled out his book. "We wait here until the storm passes. As soon as it does, we leave. Get some rest, we still have some way to travel."

"Good enough a plan f'r th' likes o' me," Fernweh chuckled, sitting to enjoy his pipe. As soon as Arrats stepped off of it, Fernweh tapped his blanket and it snapped back up into a bindle, tying itself onto a staff that had lain across the blanket moments before. He rifled around inside the loose sack and pulled out bread, a knife, and a large leg of something. Arrats was certain there had been nothing but the staff atop the blanket when they had stood upon it moments before. Wandering three hundred years had, Arrats was sure, taught Fernweh a few tricks to make travel easier.

He chuckled to himself when he saw her looking at his bindle curiously. "Wantin' f'r food o' th' body 'r just wantin' f'r food o' th' mind, girly? Likely 'aven't seen a bindle th' likes o' mine, t' be sure. A gift it was, f'r a deed done f'r Tabi. Deal 'onest with th' gods, girly, an' they'll try their best t' do th' same t' ye." He winked at her and held the bindle out to her with the staff.

The storm lasted longer than Inlé had predicted. Its approach was heard after a few hours, and when it was overhead it roared loud enough that Arrats created a wall of silence at the tunnel's mouth to deaden the noise. A full day later, and the storm had hardly let up at all. By the time the storm ended on the party's second day in the cave, Inlé had finished all of the books he had taken from Arrats' library, and had begun poring over one he had on his person.

Arrats, on the other hand, had spent a small amount of time checking and cleaning her equipment. After that, she slept or was entertained by Fernweh. The old man pulled cards and dice and other small games and toys out and repeatedly trounced the Archcardinal at whichever game they played. He chuckled to himself and puffed away at his pipe in delight as the vexed Arrats lost and lost again. Each time she demanded a rematch, Fernweh would offer a new game of Arrats' choice, and then gleefully destroyed whatever confidence she had in her ability.

When the storm ended, the party exited the cave to find the land they had left was now a vast marsh. Muddy waters floated grass rafts across their grimy surface. The mountains they now traversed had had many landslides in the last few nights, and rivers swollen with the surplus rain cascaded down through every ravine, forcing the travelers to climb the uneven slopes above the drainage. Inlé was unfazed by the difficult terrain, and Fernweh seemed to actually enjoy it, a point that frustrated the struggling Arrats. They reached a plateau around noon, and Inlé pleasantly surprised Arrats by proposing an hour long rest for a meal beside a spring of fresh water that seemed no worse for wear from the storm.

"'ow are ye 'oldin' up, girly?" Fernweh asked as they ate.

"Well enough," Arrats lied, not wanting to reveal her exhaustion. "I'm unused to so much physical exertion, but my duties do force me to expend vast quantities of energy on occasion."

"Good, good." The old wanderer smiled. "In a few more days, ye will not even feel th' burnin' ye find creepin' into yer legs now, t' be sure." He rummaged in his bindle and pulled out a wrapped item. "Eat this an' yer discomforts'll be gone 'til next ye rest."

Arrats opened the thin covering and found a cookie inside. She bit into the tough cookie, and expected to have trouble chewing the leathery snack. Instead, it crumbled as soon as she had it in her mouth, and melted into a nutty liquid that left a sweet, tangy aftertaste that Arrats found quite pleasant. The cookie was small, but Arrats was satisfied by it.

The view was magnificent. Arrats looked out over the plains in awe as she saw them stretched out beneath her. Truly, it had been too long since last she'd looked out over the plain like this. Of course, she had never seen it destroyed like this either. On the horizon stood the Tower of the Mage, a slender finger poking into the air. Below it, Arrats knew, was Aurora, but the city was too distant to see. The Tower was a beacon on the waters now, directing whoever was out in that sea of mud to safety.

Making a loose fist, Arrats looked through the ring of her fingers and muttered a quick cantrip. The spire loomed larger as she looked through the magical magnification disk she had formed. Atop the walls surrounding the city stood a dozen mages, each one a disciple Arrats had personally trained. They looked a bit ragged after their elongated casting, but Arrats was proud to see that they had held the barrier and protected the city perfectly. They appeared to be finishing the final checks before releasing the walls and retiring to a much deserved rest.

The magic of the city boundaries was a beautiful thing. The city had been made generations before Arrats was born, and the mages responsible for Aurora's defenses were all long dead. Nonetheless, the magic was almost self-sustaining, drawing energy from the heat of the sun. Wind and rain could pass through the barrier unhindered, as could the many birds who nested within the city confines, but anything the wall determined to be hostile had a great deal of trouble passing through. And with a mage stationed at each of the twelve circles on the wall, along with one in the circle at the top of the Tower, it was said that nothing could pass through that they didn't allow.

"Looks as they're about finished, t' be sure," Fernweh said, gazing out at the city, palm shielding his eyes from the sun.

"Yes," Arrats agreed. She looked twice when she realized he must be seeing without magical aid. "You can see the city from here?"

"Better 'n ye with yer little spell, I can," Fernweh winked. "It's only a day's run from 'ere, girly. These old eyes 'ave a few tricks in 'em yet. Ye'd be amazed, ye would."

Inlé rose and called for the two to prepare to leave then, and the treacherous run continued, though Arrats noted that her stamina was no longer flagging.

Description
Arrats was amazed that the boy's prediction had been spot-on. Dark clouds spilled out over the grasslands from the south and furiously boiled. So far, they had not quite settled overhead, but Arrats was certain that that small felicity would soon expire. The clouds were pregnant with rain, and their labor pains roared constantly in the distance. Arrats watched as the last few miles between their small party and the cloud front closed in scant minutes and continued to charge toward the mountains to the north. The black sea above her roiled and pulsed, but despite the approach of sunset and the overcast, it was still bright enough for Arrats to see Inlé reading by stormlight as Fernweh continued chanting.

"Fernweh," Arrats called over the storm. "I don't mean to rush you, but how much longer?"

The old man cackled into the storm, "Almost done, girly, Almost done! Alright, ye two, 'op on t' me blanket!"

Inlé and Arrats obeyed, and all three stood atop the blanket of Fernweh's bindle as his chanting reached it climax. Suddenly, in the distance the rain began. A wall of water roared rapidly toward the party. Arrats watched the worst storm she'd ever seen in her hundred years adventuring stampede toward her and said a prayer for any who were out beneath the torrent, and another for herself and her own survival. Just before the wall of water overtook them, Fernweh cried out and Arrats found herself surrounded by darkness and silence. She heard a quiet scraping noise, and a small flame flashed into being, then dulled to embers.

Fernweh chuckled. "A bit close, eh?" he said around something in his mouth.

Gathering her wits, Arrats created a light above her head and saw her companions once more. The cave they were in was small, barely six feet high and likely less than twice that wide. She saw only one passage out of the 'room', and that cramped. Leaving, she decided, would be unpleasant.

"We are safe here, then, despite the storm?" Inlé asked.

"O' course. This could be th' worst storm t' reach th' grasslands in a few hundred year, an' this 'ole'll weather it out real 'andsome-like. It's thirty feet down that passage t' th' surface, twenty below us. Water flows away from this 'ole. Only way it'll get in's if it floods th' plains below f'r good. Pray that'll not 'appen while th' Archcardinal is with us. Aurora would sore miss their 'ead when th' barriers are tested, t' be sure."

"That, I wouldn't worry overmuch about, thank you," Aurora said confidently. "The others in the tower can handle just about anything that could be thrown at them." Her faith in her attendants was genuine, but she still hoped such a trial would not occur in her absence. Factional disputes would only cause trouble with her absence. Doubt gnawed at her for a moment, then she steeled herself once more to the task at hand.

"What should we do next?"

"Travel will be difficult for the remainder of the day, and may in fact be detrimental," Inlé said. He sat back against the stone wall and pulled out his book. "We wait here until the storm passes. As soon as it does, we leave. Get some rest, we still have some way to travel."

"Good enough a plan f'r th' likes o' me," Fernweh chuckled, sitting to enjoy his pipe. As soon as Arrats stepped off of it, Fernweh tapped his blanket and it snapped back up into a bindle, tying itself onto a staff that had lain across the blanket moments before. He rifled around inside the loose sack and pulled out bread, a knife, and a large leg of something. Arrats was certain there had been nothing but the staff atop the blanket when they had stood upon it moments before. Wandering three hundred years had, Arrats was sure, taught Fernweh a few tricks to make travel easier.

He chuckled to himself when he saw her looking at his bindle curiously. "Wantin' f'r food o' th' body 'r just wantin' f'r food o' th' mind, girly? Likely 'aven't seen a bindle th' likes o' mine, t' be sure. A gift it was, f'r a deed done f'r Tabi. Deal 'onest with th' gods, girly, an' they'll try their best t' do th' same t' ye." He winked at her and held the bindle out to her with the staff.

The storm lasted longer than Inlé had predicted. Its approach was heard after a few hours, and when it was overhead it roared loud enough that Arrats created a wall of silence at the tunnel's mouth to deaden the noise. A full day later, and the storm had hardly let up at all. By the time the storm ended on the party's second day in the cave, Inlé had finished all of the books he had taken from Arrats' library, and had begun poring over one he had on his person.

Arrats, on the other hand, had spent a small amount of time checking and cleaning her equipment. After that, she slept or was entertained by Fernweh. The old man pulled cards and dice and other small games and toys out and repeatedly trounced the Archcardinal at whichever game they played. He chuckled to himself and puffed away at his pipe in delight as the vexed Arrats lost and lost again. Each time she demanded a rematch, Fernweh would offer a new game of Arrats' choice, and then gleefully destroyed whatever confidence she had in her ability.

When the storm ended, the party exited the cave to find the land they had left was now a vast marsh. Muddy waters floated grass rafts across their grimy surface. The mountains they now traversed had had many landslides in the last few nights, and rivers swollen with the surplus rain cascaded down through every ravine, forcing the travelers to climb the uneven slopes above the drainage. Inlé was unfazed by the difficult terrain, and Fernweh seemed to actually enjoy it, a point that frustrated the struggling Arrats. They reached a plateau around noon, and Inlé pleasantly surprised Arrats by proposing an hour long rest for a meal beside a spring of fresh water that seemed no worse for wear from the storm.

"'ow are ye 'oldin' up, girly?" Fernweh asked as they ate.

"Well enough," Arrats lied, not wanting to reveal her exhaustion. "I'm unused to so much physical exertion, but my duties do force me to expend vast quantities of energy on occasion."

"Good, good." The old wanderer smiled. "In a few more days, ye will not even feel th' burnin' ye find creepin' into yer legs now, t' be sure." He rummaged in his bindle and pulled out a wrapped item. "Eat this an' yer discomforts'll be gone 'til next ye rest."

Arrats opened the thin covering and found a cookie inside. She bit into the tough cookie, and expected to have trouble chewing the leathery snack. Instead, it crumbled as soon as she had it in her mouth, and melted into a nutty liquid that left a sweet, tangy aftertaste that Arrats found quite pleasant. The cookie was small, but Arrats was satisfied by it.

The view was magnificent. Arrats looked out over the plains in awe as she saw them stretched out beneath her. Truly, it had been too long since last she'd looked out over the plain like this. Of course, she had never seen it destroyed like this either. On the horizon stood the Tower of the Mage, a slender finger poking into the air. Below it, Arrats knew, was Aurora, but the city was too distant to see. The Tower was a beacon on the waters now, directing whoever was out in that sea of mud to safety.

Making a loose fist, Arrats looked through the ring of her fingers and muttered a quick cantrip. The spire loomed larger as she looked through the magical magnification disk she had formed. Atop the walls surrounding the city stood a dozen mages, each one a disciple Arrats had personally trained. They looked a bit ragged after their elongated casting, but Arrats was proud to see that they had held the barrier and protected the city perfectly. They appeared to be finishing the final checks before releasing the walls and retiring to a much deserved rest.

The magic of the city boundaries was a beautiful thing. The city had been made generations before Arrats was born, and the mages responsible for Aurora's defenses were all long dead. Nonetheless, the magic was almost self-sustaining, drawing energy from the heat of the sun. Wind and rain could pass through the barrier unhindered, as could the many birds who nested within the city confines, but anything the wall determined to be hostile had a great deal of trouble passing through. And with a mage stationed at each of the twelve circles on the wall, along with one in the circle at the top of the Tower, it was said that nothing could pass through that they didn't allow.

"Looks as they're about finished, t' be sure," Fernweh said, gazing out at the city, palm shielding his eyes from the sun.

"Yes," Arrats agreed. She looked twice when she realized he must be seeing without magical aid. "You can see the city from here?"

"Better 'n ye with yer little spell, I can," Fernweh winked. "It's only a day's run from 'ere, girly. These old eyes 'ave a few tricks in 'em yet. Ye'd be amazed, ye would."

Inlé rose and called for the two to prepare to leave then, and the treacherous run continued, though Arrats noted that her stamina was no longer flagging.