The flight was cold — his worries for Amelia even more so. Feren knew only that he had an unmistakable feeling in his gut that forced him in that single direction. A tug pulled him forward though he knew not where Maravi lie. But the string wrapped around his chest was taut and yanking him right to where his link would be found. When the pressure sensation increased and he knew that he was close... he saw the first signs that his worries had held merit. Firican colors were unmistakable below him. Marxtrin paused in flight to circle overhead. It was nearing dusk — dark clouds were forming above. Feren's stomach lurched. There had to be at least a hundred of them, their dark forms circled around quickly dying fires. The winds forced his spirit off their camp. He flew straight again for Maravi.
Feren landed before the structure into which his smaller scouting spirit had disappeared. He felt her somewhere in there.
The neat, wide stone path he was standing on was quiet in great contrast to his the wind pummeling his ears in flight. And everything around him was far too still in comparison to his racing thoughts and fears. The snow was still white... the setting colors of the sun lit the sky to his right a brilliant transitioning blue between the dark mountain silhouettes. Before him stood figures carved from stone taller than the nearby trees... placed in careful fashion to create a scene so still he hesitated to break it. Dead branches of what used to be rows of rose bushes shivered in the wind. Though everything appeared in shades of black and white now, he could easily imagine what it would have been like in full color. This had to be Maravi.
... Marble statues of animals and beats greater than he could imagine stared down with eyes of cold stone. The path was clearly marked down blanketed steps between the standing monuments to the open door. Faint footsteps in the path were an easy indication that someone had been there. The size and pattern of the bootprints confirmed it was Amelia. Feren stepped forward.
When he called her name in the courtyard the sound seemed to echo. The scene around him was so still, however, that the repeated sound lifted the fine hair on his arms. The doors to the grand marble architecture were open but appeared only black inside. Feren felt as if he were crawling into the mouth of the beast. Something did not feel right.
"Amelia?" he called. If his voice had bothered him outside, it haunted him in there. He might as well have had another figure crawling up his back for as loud as his distorted voice sounded from every direction. It was much colder in the belly of the stone.
Even the sounds of his boots were amplified at first down the empty hallways, but the deeper he ventured, the quieter everything became. His eyes swayed without pause, trying to take in details that could have exposed Amelia's location, or at least her path. There was a faint smell of smoke from within. With every step, he only felt the air grow colder.
He looked through an opening to the left which showed an empty room with a lifted dais, an arrangement of seats upon it. There was no sign of her there. The room to the right was similar in that it revealed nothing. Things appeared fairly neat for a vacated residence. There must not have been many vagabonds in these parts.
Again he tried to call her.
Feren walked to the end of main hall and looked down both potential turns. To the right he saw the hints of remaining daylight. Just as he looked, a faint shadow passed over the wall. Once the darker form left the light disappeared, as if the room had been taken over by thick clouds. Feren's legs moved more quickly in that direction. "Amelia?"
— Suddenly a burst of cold hit the back of his neck. Feren whipped around, a name just at his lips. Violet eyes were wide in their stare from behind shuttered doors. The look was almost panicked — a finger was pressed to her mouth to be quiet.
