Snowfall on the Edge of the World

2 - THE CABIN

The first thing I noticed was the heat. At first, I had considered the sweet energy of the Hypatian lamp a wonderful change to the endless cold, but I quickly reevaluated my opinion. I shielded my eyes from the glare when the door opened, light streamed through like a new dawn. When my vision settled, I realized I was looking at more lamps, the heat washing over me like the gentle caress of a lover. Hundreds of them lined the ceilings and walls, a few sat in nooks in the floor even, and one was held stiffly by an old man.

The old man was tall but bent. He had a great grey beard that framed a craggy and calloused face, thick and lined with ridges like a mountainside. The beard flowed as low as his abdomen and gave him the appearance of a hedge wizard, as well as big bushy eyebrows that looked like large furry caterpillars resting above his eyes. While I was mistrustful of magicians, it was common knowledge that it was very bad luck to eschew their hospitality, and I did not have much choice regardless.

"Ho, there." I spoke thickly, coughing softly from the rapid temperature change. "I ask for succor; this weather does not agree with me, I fear."

The old man made a gravelly sound, like a cough thick with phlegm and it took me a second to realize it was a laugh.

I gestured down to the creature I had slain with my sore arm. "A powerful beast, do you often see such creatures in this land?"

"More and more often." The old man replied, he had a warbling voice, like dusty parchment in the wind, but oddly strong and lucid. He spoke slowly, as if choosing each word with care, each sentence carrying an odd musical quality. "It is fortunate indeed, ser Knight, that you came across a newborn Yurthjorn.

I did not attempt to hide my shock. "Newborn?" I questioned, stunned. "The Beast was as tall as your house, and near as wide!"

"Aye," The old man whispered. "This land isn't for men, ser Knight, as I'm sure you well know." He shook his head quickly, as if chastising himself. "But I forget myself, I grant your request for succor ser Knight, and you are welcome to share in the warmth."

I nodded gratefully and followed the old man inside. I felt the heat increase and groaned as my frozen limbs thawed like a cube of ice thrown into a hot spring, rivulets of rapidly warming water flowing out of my armour. The place was surprisingly large inside, and incessantly bright. It was a large single room with a beg, several pieces of furniture, a large hearth with a cook pot boiling softly and a sleepy wolfhound lazing on a thick bearskin rug, what really dominated the room however was the bookshelf, it covered the whole western wall and must have contained hundreds of tomes. A quick glance revealed helpful titles such as Practical Uses of Wolfsbane, and Hypatian Wizardry; How Gologotha Changed Magic. That last one raised my hackles, any religious man would fear that name as inviting heresy, but the book seemed explanatory rather than heretical. I would ignore the transgression for now. None of the tomes seemed to have an author, each unadorned, colored leather bindings. The bookshelf a sea of reds and greens, blues and purples. Impatiently, the old man gestured for me to sit. If the old man was annoyed at my humidity, he did not show it and went to tend to his cookfire. He grumbled when he noticed the hole the Yurthjorn made in his wall, and quickly grabbed some leather sitting near his bed and began to nail it over the hole with thick iron nails and an old worn hammer. I turned and looked at the chair he gestured to; it was near new, to my surprise. It seemed to be built of a thick wood I knew grew up in the north, with intricate carvings and runes scrawled across in thick angular script.

I took in more of the room as far as log cabins go this was veritable luxury. The whole place was lined with furs, and I couldn't work out where the old man had gotten so many Hypatian lamps, there had supposedly only been a thousand built and he could have near forty of them in this room. The walls were unadorned, other than the lamps, no paintings or even any weaponry. My suspicion of the man's wizardry increased, but I sat at the chair regardless. Suspicion can often be assuaged by the promise of a good seat after a trying day.