The Way Ahead

Edwin woke up shivering. At some point overnight, it seemed that the cloud cover had returned and, combined with his higher elevation, what would have been a light drizzle was instead a dusting of snow. As he yawned himself awake, he watched his breath steam in the frigid air, being caught by faint eddies and carried away. He blew on his hands, rubbing them together in an effort to restore feeling to his fingers. After briefly trying and failing to breathe fire- because why wouldn’t he?- he rubbed his hands together while calling faintly on his magic.

Firestarting

Level Up!

Firestarting 6→7

Basic Mana Manipulation 1→2

As he had expected and hoped, calling on his mana was far easier to do once he had the skill. And if his skills were this much more effective with what meager amounts of power he had at level 1- well, level 2 now- he could only imagine what he might be able to accomplish once he was able to channel more than an iota of power. Of course, that may have just been because he knew what he was doing this time, but he liked to dream. That Skilled Arcanist path was looking quite tempting and was absolutely the next one he was filling out. Only, ah… 46 points to go.

Level Up!

Mathematics 1→2

45 points to go. If he was lucky, Basic Mana Manipulation might even upgrade, and wouldn’t that be fun? He did wonder how skill evolution worked, but with only one data point to go off of, it was impossible to say if it was a regular occurrence, something that happened really rarely, or only happened because of his unique path.

It was a sad day when Edwin would get distracted from doing literal magic, but in fairness, it was getting distracted by other magic and math, so it was probably fine. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was able to hold fire, no matter how small, in his hands and not be burned, but maybe because it was his own mana it was fine? Or maybe it was just too little to properly burn him? Actually, how did he know if magical fire was as hot as normal fire? What if it was just 30-50° C and made light some other way? No, it was able to ignite an actual fire yesterday. Maybe it changed temperature in accordance with some unknown variable? He was dealing with actual, physical magic after all, so anything was possible. Maybe it was some sort of conceptual healing fire, where it warmed but didn’t consume what it wasn’t supposed to? Honestly, while the last possibility sounded like an absolute headache to figure out, it also had the most potential in the future if he could get a handle on it. So he wasn’t really sure what he hoped. He could get a handle on it when his life wasn’t on the line, so stay focused, Edwin.

All that besides, though, it was really, really cool to watch phantom flames flicker across his palms, keeping them warm. Edwin felt a slight drain on his mana as he kept the skill active, though nothing major, and something of an odd strain on his mind as he applied his Firestarting skill in a manner so radically different from its intended use. Expecting more than a few levels rolling in, he disabled notifications for the time being. They’d only distract him, and his storm-sense was tingling. The air felt heavy, and a slight breeze was starting to pick up, carrying with it the smell of cold mountain air.

While he’d never been caught out in one, Edwin had some inkling that there might be a snowstorm moving in, and he knew that he wanted to get to somewhere better than “a couple boulders in open ground” if it got bad. Ideally, he’d find some kind of building to shelter in, but the chances of finding one were slim to none. Still, he had best get moving.

The frosted ground crunched under his feed, and as his footprints receded into the distance before being covered in a continued dusting of snow, Edwin seriously wished he was wearing warmer clothes. But why would have he been? So far as he could remember, he was just in the lab taking measurements on his latest sample. Really, he should consider himself lucky he was even wearing his jacket, as thin as it may be. What mainly confused him was how he stayed fully clothed, but lost everything in his pockets, taking with it anything that might have possibly been useful in his world-hop. Even his watch had vanished into the possibly literal ether.

Around him, the wind started to pick up, knifing through what woefully few layers of fabric Edwin was wearing and leaving him chilled to the bone. He needed to find some kind of shelter, and was starting to regret having left his boulder to try to find something better. His previous shelter would have been better than nothing, which was far better than his findings so far. Why did he ever leave where he could have been comfortable?

Re-igniting his hands with Firestarting for a moment- the skill had collapsed the moment he was no longer entirely focusing on it- Edwin reassessed his surroundings. There were a couple of tiny shrubs and a windswept tree nearby, but nothing substantial enough to provide any kind of cover from what was looking to be the start of a blizzard. The barren mountainside was silent, save for the whistling of the wind, and the one notable feature- a trickling creek, cutting through the landscape- was frozen over, contributing even further to the audial wasteland.

The silence was unnerving, and Edwin, for once, actually longed to hear someone’s voice. It was surprisingly lonely in the wind-swept mountainside, and he wished that he could have had someone walking alongside him. Some support group to shelter him from the cutting loneliness, but he was left with nothing but his thoughts, as always. It truly was strange, Edwin couldn’t help but think, as he’d never been that keen on other people- why would he? They just tended to talk and talk and talk. It could be nice, when he wanted to find out what was going on, but then they usually wanted some sort of feedback, and that meant you had to actually pay attention to what they were saying. He much preferred spending time with people in companionable silence, or with people who were content with just using him as a rubber duck, saying things with the understanding that it would all go in one ear and out the other. Not that there were many of those around...

But on second thought, he was fine as he was now. Going a while without talking to anyone was nice! The silence was soothing. No emotional problems to deal with, no shifts in the web of interpersonal connections to keep track of, no professors to appease. No stressful and unpredictable people to deal with. Just himself and his Skills, pit against the endless turbulence of the snowy winds engulfing him. Being alone, in a new world, with nothing but his wits to pit against the elements? That was far more satisfying.

Around him, the world was blanketed in white, and the fallen snow further muffled what few sounds might survive save the howling of the wind. Even the crunch, crunch, crunch of his footfalls barely reached his ears before they were snatched away and flung to the far corners of the earth. Behind him, his tracks were swiftly covered by the blowing gusts and further filled in by the heavy snow, leaving, as usual, almost no trace of his passage. Still, he continued on. What else was he to do?

Things were so much easier without distractions. He carried plenty of those along with himself everywhere he went. No need to bring along further complications. He was absolutely capable of taking care of himself. He knew the steps to take the right things to do in the right situations. It was all a dance, making sure you weren’t blown off-course by outside interference. So long as you stayed focused on a landmark, some touchpoint to ensure you didn’t go in circles, you’d be fine.

Just one foot in front of the other, keep going until you either reached your destination or failed. Simple as that. A bit of magical fire kept him going without frostbite, even as the weather around him continued to worsen, forming half-corporeal figures for mere instants before being torn apart. Head down and hunched over, keep in mind which direction is uphill to avoid getting turned around, just struggle through, you could manage it.

He was on his own. There was nobody to count on, no last-minute rescue team, no hiking partner with extra food and water. Not that there ever was, but the simple knowledge that he would do this on his own- and he would do this- Just him, trekking across the hostile terrain as he looked for any kind of shelter. He even had magic of his own helping him. Anything around him, he could see. Just make sure to cast a glance up around every few steps to ensure nothing new loomed in front of him. After a few failed glances, though, he almost gave up. He wanted to give up, but he couldn’t. So, he kept trying again and again, just in case this time he’d find what he was looking for. Something, anything to help keep the pervasive chill away before it became a fully fledged blizzard. He might be able to survive if he dug into the snowbank, but it would be much simpler with something solid to use as shelter.

It would be so easy to just admit defeat and dig in. The snow was at least a couple feet deep, and if he got started now, he could probably excavate enough of a trench that he would be able to lie in it with a small break for the wind. Between that and his magic used through Firestarter, he would most likely survive the coming storm. Then it was just a matter of hoping it would blow over in the course of hours, instead of days. Though if it lasted for days then he was dead already. Shelter wouldn’t help in that case, wouldn’t keep him alive through such biting winds, wouldn’t help him if he started to starve, so why even keep looking? Any benefit it might provide would probably be offset by the effort needed to find it and make it suitable for his purposes.

Ahead of him, Edwin thought he saw another potential shelter- a rock sticking up out of the ground. As he got closer, though, he realized it was just a drift, which collapsed as he approached. Kicking it despondently, he realized it was built around a tiny bush, which he spent a couple of minutes trying to work into some kind of functional shelter, before finally admitting to himself that he’d never manage to get anything from it. Really, why did he even bother? He should have known that nothing would be out here that would actually serve as a windbreak. He figured that out after just a handful of failed attempts, why would the next attempt be any more successful? No shelter would actually protect him, and his attempts to actually use them for help were just wasted effort.

Maybe he shouldn’t have left his tiny hollow after all. But if he had, that would have meant admitting defeat before even trying, and consigning the entire day of exploration as a loss, a thought which rankled him. He could stop right here and make a bank for himself, which would… probably keep him safe. He should stop here. Honestly, the wind was picking up at a rate where he wasn’t sure if he could make one in time. Every step was a struggle at this point, and his feet were freezing. Not wet, fortunately, that would have been really bad, but still insanely cold. They’d need careful tending to once he found shelter, which had to be close, right? He needed shelter. He’d never make it on his own. He hoped that he could somehow magically stumble over what he needed, but that was wishful thinking. Finding shelter required effort, despite the terminology used, you didn’t just find it.

The only thing keeping him going at this point was his magic. Every time he stopped to look around, he summoned the ethereal fire to fight off frostbite, then pressed onwards. Around him, the wind almost threatened to carry him away, whipping snow around him and drastically lowering his visibility. All he could make out now were vague impressions of his surroundings at best. He was all but cut off from even the hope of finding cover.

Edwin sighed. There was no escape. No shelter was going to show itself before it was too late, and he just needed to focus on digging into his own blizzard-survival trench or else risk dying out in the cold. He didn’t want to give up, though. Even though every time he had seen something which looked promising it had turned out to be either completely inadequate or a trick of his imagination, he still believed that there had to be something nearby. He just hadn’t found it yet. Just one more minute, then he’d give up. Just one more minute.

Edwin plodded along, huddled and shivering. One foot in front of the other, his footsteps being filled in with snow the same instant his feet were pulled clear, there was no way to tell if he was going in circles, save his intuition that uphill was still to his right. Who could really tell at this point? Everything was a white blanket, and he could scarcely tell up from down.

Then, as Edwin prepared to actually, finally give up, a misplaced foot brought him tumbling down a hole into what seemed to be a small cave, the snow having all but buried it until it was practically invisible. Down here, though, it was dry and out of the cutting winds. No longer was he at risk of losing himself to the storm. Here, he had comfort and the potential for warmth. It was perfect.

Edwin breathed a sigh of relief. Falling asleep here wouldn’t be permanent. As he huddled into a tiny ball- anything to reduce his contact with the frigid air- and summoned the spectral flames of his magical Firestarter, all he could think as he drifted to sleep was how glad that this time, he hadn’t given up.