Chapter 14.1: Toward the Priory

It had been hours since they’d left, but Ventyr could still see the scene as clearly as he had when it happened. She had been so desperate. “Warmaster, please, you can’t—”

“Crusader Jindel,” Efut had interrupted her. “Sergeant Ventyr and his team, as unconventional as they may be, are traveling to the bookworms at the Priory. You are returning to your post in Divinity’s Reach. this is not a debate; it is an order.” It was always impressive to Ventyr how tall an agitated asura could seem, especially that one.

It was at that point the young woman had looked to him, as if pleading for any means he had of swaying their superior, but Ventyr had none. He knew that. Deep down, she did too. The Vigil was a military order, built on fundamentals of rank and authority. Whether she was invested in this mission or not, there was nothing either of them could have done to alter the warmasters’ decision. As Efut and Grayson had clearly pointed out to her, Jindel’s assignment was to see the Sergeant and his package safely to the Keep. That was it.

He understood the warmasters’ orders. Manpower was sparse, and it had to be assigned wisely and sparingly to the plethora of people across the continent who relied on the Vigil for protection. He also understood Jindel’s desire to continue, though. It was the hardest thing to lose any comrade, let alone your first. It was harder still to lose a mentor. Ventyr couldn’t tell if it was more anger or sorrow that painted her face when the rest of the party had moved on down the Keep’s ramp without her, but he understood them both, and how easily they mixed, how easily they could tint a person’s vision of everything. Perhaps the only thing worse than the loss of a friend was being unable to make it right.

He could remember his own first true mission, a different matter entirely than the correspondence runs he’d been assigned to before that. It was an assault on a Svanir camp outside Hoelbrak. The Sons had been found sacrificing local inhabitants to one of Jormag’s Claws. Even without a Claw present on the day of their attack, it was an overwhelming fight that cost too many Vigil lives and even more innocent captives. Ventyr would have done anything to save those people, and indeed he did things he never would have thought himself capable of, but it had all been too late. The scorched earth, the ring of charred norn bodies around him, he regretted none of what he’d done, but it had all been too late.

Ventyr could understand Crusader Jindel all day long, but it mattered nothing. They were going to the Durmand Priory, and she was not. That was the end of it, and the young soldier would just have to live with it.

He sighed, letting the thoughts go as he stepped out of the cavern and into an icy wind that rushed down at them from the north, swirling snow past the four travelers. That cavern was the road that ran from the green hills of Newbeach Bluffs, under the westernmost ridge of the foothills, and up into the Shiverpeaks. The wind rattled the branches of Ventyr’s head and repeatedly snapped the length of Penny’s long coat like a whip.

The others were a short distance ahead of him now, with Penny just steps in front of the two asura. As she trod on, leaning forward into the driving headwind and holding her coat tightly about her, Minkus leapt by for the dozenth time, his head buried in a knit cap and the scarf wound tightly around his mouth and neck.

“What in Torment are you doing?” Ventyr heard Penny yell into the howling wind.

The asura stopped, nearly knee deep in snow, and looked back, still bouncing in place and rubbing his arms with thickly mittened hands. “This isn’t as warm as I expected,” he called, rapping knuckles on his golden breastplate.

Catching up to him, she shook her head, snow streaking past them them in the wind. “I told you. Armor only makes you hot in Metrica because it’s hot in Metrica. if it’s cold outside, it’s cold inside.”

“Oh, yes. Energy Conduction 101,” he said in a muffle beneath the scarf. He continued to hop from one foot to the other as he strode on up the mountain beside his human friend. “At least I have boots.”

Along with the hat and scarf, new boots were one of a small handful of cold-weather items he’d purchased before the group had once again left the Vigil Keep early that morning. Each day they’d been at the Keep had been slightly warmer than the last, proving that the Zephyr was finally claiming Gendarran Fields from the Colossus, but that seasonal shift seemed to be limited to the valleys. Even Ventyr hadn’t really known what to expect from the Shiverpeaks. None of the others had been that way before, and the only other time he’d seen them was at the height of one of the warmest summers in living memory. Still, the others had managed to prepare at least a little better than Minkus, who had been under the impression that his new breastplate and leg guards would insulate him from the elements, allowing a thin layer of fur beneath to keep him perfectly warm. Had Ventyr believed the weather would be as bad as it was, he might have corrected the asura earlier.

Minkus’ new pieces of armor were actually his payment from the Vigil for taking this contract. Though Minkus had initially agreed to receive their payment, he’d changed his mind at the point of signing the papers. He said he’d felt bad asking for money in return for his help in what was clearly an important assignment his friends were on. Instead, finding he was quite under-equipped to serve as a bodyguard of any kind, Efut arranged to have him armed for the task instead: supplied with the chestpiece, leggings, and gauntlets of an asura peacemaker who’d joined the Vigil some time since and left the remnants of his previous life at the Keep. It was a quality set of asuran armor, shaded in gold and blue, held together with magnetic clasps, and only gently scratched in a few places. Fortunately, the other asura had been rather rotund, so the armor actually fit Minkus, sitting even a bit loosely in places. It all made Minkus uncommonly happy, even for him. Several times in the lowlands, the others had caught him grinning down with satisfaction as he buffed the geometric pattern across his chest to a sheen.

As it was now, the asura’s sole focus seemed to be moving enough to stay warm. Actually, as none of them was entirely equipped for the weather they now experienced, that was everyone’s goal.

“Yeah, at least you’ve got boots,” Penny muttered. She smacked a patch of snow off the knit hat miraculously drawn down over Minkus’ big ears. “How do you know anything about golems but then forget that metal conducts— nevermind. When we get to Snowblind, for the love of Grenth, buy more clothes.”

“That seems like an excellent idea for us all,” Skixx said, teeth chattering. Ventyr had hardly noticed the little figure falling back beside him. A gust of wind filled Skixx’s hood and threatened to lift his small body right off the ground, but he gripped the edges and tugged it down around his face again. “Why in the Alchemy would anyone choose to live in this temperature-forsaken place?”

“Gods,” Penny chimed in. “It’s supposed to be summer.”

“It is cold, but it’s also beautiful,” Minkus replied over his shoulder, only just loud enough to be heard.

“Beauty is in the eye of anyone who isn’t here,” the other asura replied with a sneer. He went silent for a moment before assuming a slightly more positive tone. “At least I’m not traveling this wasteland alone.”

“No,” Penny said, leaning into the wind again. “Lucky for you, we’re all still headed the same gods-awful way. We can freeze together.”

Ventyr increased his pace, putting himself squarely between them all. “Conserve your energy,” he barked through the gusts. “At this rate we won’t reach Snowblind Peaks until after nightfall. It’s only going to get colder.”

“Thanks, Sergeant Joybringer,” Penny replied, tucking her face back into fur-lined collar of her coat. “Sure can’t wait to reach Snowblind, where I get to have a disappointing chat with a client capable of breaking my arm with one hand.” Minkus patted her lower back as he rounded her other side.

“Ah, hell,” she groaned, reopening her collar and pretending to ignore the asura’s gesture. “SP-1, liquid courage.”

Ventyr watched her from the corner of his eye. With a small burst of steam that instantly froze into a thin cloud of snow, her pack produced a flask at her hip. She snapped it up from the mandible, uncorked it, and raised it to her mouth, pausing just before imbibing.

“What?” she asked, meeting Ventyr’s sideways gaze. “It’ll warm me— and maybe take the edge off a shitty day. You want a swig?” She extended it toward him briefly.

He waved it off. Ventyr had no problem with alcohol, but the edge to this day, this mission, wasn’t something he wanted dulled at present, at least not that way. And there was no telling how potent something in Penny’s pack might be.

“Anyone else?” she called at the two asura, raising the flask over her shoulder after taking a deep quaff herself.

Skixx pressed his way forward, scowling as he approached her but reaching up just the same. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ll drink it. I wouldn’t oppose a little numbness right now.”

She handed it off, resetting her attention on the landscape ahead, but only after giving him a firm slap on the shoulder. “Good. I knew you were secretly a drinking man.”