The day after Ukko's visit, everyone slumped a little, feeling a sense of letdown, like the party was over too soon. Even Ashura noticed. How could ordinary celebrations compare to the high-powered gala of entertaining foreign royalty? However, it did not last long. As the morning progressed, the subdued atmosphere lessened, and by noon gaiety again reigned. The denizens of the castle indulged in food, drink, and music.

While in general most aristocrats and servants preferred indoor light and warmth to the gloomy clouds and bitter cold outside, a few sporting events were held beneath the floating mountain while there was some daylight. Tancred showed great promise in the short-course skiing race, though he finished in the middle of the field. Ashura thought he did quite well, considering he had competed against adults with many more years of experience.

For the whole morning, Fai remained somber and quiet. Gone was the devious little imp who plotted mischief and pranks upon high-ranking noblemen and led his cousins down the garden path. The Fai of old had returned, a Fai who was quiet, well behaved, polite, courteous, and well mannered. The image of the perfect child.

Instead of romping with the other children, he stayed close to Ashura, at times trailing after him like a shadow. When that was not possible, as when Ashura needed to consult with this nobleman or that, Fai would find a way to remain somewhere nearby, always ready to return to Ashura's side when he could. Not even Virender and Mielu could tempt Fai away.

Ashura hated to see that behavior, but he supposed he should have expected it. Even without the reminders of his past, Fai's recent mischievous streak would have ended sooner or later. His scars ran deep and resisted fading. Probably Fai's moods would swing between happiness and gloom for a long time. During his cry on the night of Ukko's visit, Fai had seemed so very guilty about being happy.

No child should feel guilt for experiencing happiness.

Finally, Ashura insisted Fai go off with his adoptive cousins for a while, hoping that the distraction of childish fun might help. Fai complied with Ashura's request, but the small amounts of pleasure he expressed during the games seemed false to Ashura. As he had noted before, Fai had become expert in the art of deception.

Ashura gnawed his lower lip as Fai engaged half-heartedly in a game of tag. It was painful to watch Fai pretend like that.

"Majesty?" Vainamoinen said. "I have the latest report on Nadenda."

Grateful for the interruption, Ashura turned to his chief councilor. "Yes?" How sad was it that he would rather listen to a report on the lost village than observe Fai's pretense of normalcy?

"Rescue teams worked throughout the night and morning, but..." Vainamoinen sighed. "So far, no survivors have been recovered."

Probably plenty of bodies, though, Ashura thought. After so long, any people who weren't killed outright by the frozen onslaught and had instead been buried alive would have died of suffocation or hypothermia. High numbers of fatalities were common enough when a severe avalanche annihilated a mountain settlement. Most avalanches occurred in unpopulated areas, but all mountain villages were at risk. Whether they were struck or not was simply a matter of odds. Fortune had not smiled upon the mining town of Nadenda.

Both he and Vainamoinen knew no survivors would be found. Had there been any, the mages sent with the rescue teams would have identified them right away. Their priority was for the living. The fact that no living people had been found meant that there were none to be found.

"How is morale among the rescuers?" Ashura asked.

"It could be better," Vainamoinen admitted.

Ashura nodded sadly. "Prepare an escort for me. I'll go visit the site."

"Thank you. That would help," Vainamoinen said. "They need to know their efforts are appreciated."

Ashura had a quick word with Kendappa, asking her to keep an eye on Fai. Then he changed into heavier, warmer clothing, joined his escort, and teleported the group to the rugged slopes to which Nadenda had once clung.

The avalanche had been a big one. The village was gone. No intact structures remained. Where there had once been narrow streets and stairways, snug homes, and buildings for commerce, now lay heavy, clumpy masses of grimy snow, ice, and debris. The detritus embedded in the snow included upended trees, rough boulders, shingles and chimney stones, and broken timbers from houses. Ashura thought he spotted a horse's hoof sticking up through the icy crust near some tree roots clotted with dirt and rocks.

Teams of people dug in the snow. Some were directed by mages who used spells to find the corpses. Others employed specially trained dogs to scent out the victims, or long sticks to probe under the frozen cover for bodies. It was disheartening work, but at the very least the dead would be located and given a decent funeral.

The soldiers in Ashura's escort murmured and shifted restlessly. Ashura pulled his furred greatcoat closer about himself. A frigid wind blew in random gusts, but his action had not been in response to that. No one liked the aftermath of an avalanche, and though most had witnessed it all before, few ever really got used to it.

The rescuers had erected a series of tents for shelter. Beyond them lay long rows of...

Ah. The dead. Recovered in the night and during the morning. Ashura inhaled sharply. His subsequent exhalation condensed into mist in the cold air.

A small group noticed Ashura's arrival. A shout of "The king!" went out. Everywhere, people stopped working and knelt in the snow. Ashura sighed again. It was time for a performance. He lifted his gloved hands and magically projected his voice so all could hear.

"Please, rise." There was no sense having them all on their knees in this mess. He paused until everyone was up. "My people, I know how difficult a task this is. It tears the hearts of us all. Know that your king is so very proud of you, and commends your efforts. Those we have lost in this disaster will be accorded honor in death, and all of you shall be rewarded for your stalwart labor."

There were some cheers. Ashura personally considered his speech a rather anemic and artificial attempt at encouragement, but hadn't the heart for anything better. He nodded to the searchers. "Now pray continue your work, and may the gods shower their grace upon you."

There were more cheers, proving that even a little recognition could lighten the heavy atmosphere of dejection and grief. Probably some of the dead villagers were known to the searchers, perhaps some were even friends or loved ones. Ashura turned aside and walked toward the rows of dead. A show of respect was expected. His guards followed.

He stopped at the first line of corpses. The bodies had frozen in the elements, twisted and broken, with chalky white skin showing hints of blue. Many eyes were wide and frosted over, many mouths open in eternal screams. Nature had shown the townsfolk no mercy, and every age group was represented. Ashura saw a grandmother huddled in death. Next to her a young man and woman forever clutched a toddler between them, attempting to shield the child. They would have frozen that way, and now would never be parted.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head, wondering why the scene was so affecting. Surely it would be no different when he, and not an avalanche, was the mass killer. Babies and grandparents would die horrible deaths, just like this.

No, not like this. It would be even worse.

Familiar power thrummed through him, of a teleportation spell well controlled but still noticeable. Alarmed by the newcomer's identity, Ashura blinked open his eyes.

A childish voice spoke from behind him: "This is terrible."

"Fai," Ashura breathed in horror. Slowly, he turned to face his son. He should have known! He should have known Fai would follow him to this raw, open grave of a town. Fai had been so clingy all morning, of course he had come. Probably Fai had panicked the instant Ashura had left his sight. Kendappa couldn't have stopped him from coming. No one could.

Fai shouldn't see this. Fai had seen too much death in his own world, had been surrounded by it for years uncountable in an enchanted, timeless prison pit.

"Fai," Ashura repeated, fearing Fai's reaction, fearing the worst. Fai had fallen apart at the sight of a simple headdress. How badly would he react to the death all around them? Ashura said firmly, "Go home."

"Is everyone dead?" was Fai's only response to that order. He looked at the rows of frozen dead, laid out like the tiles of a board game. His expression was somber, but not hysterical or panicked. He turned his head to survey the workers, the carnage of jumbled snow and debris. Ashura felt a deep pulse of magic sweep through the entire landscape. It faded, and then Fai turned knowing blue eyes on Ashura. "Everyone's dead," he stated flatly.

"Yes," Ashura confirmed. He couldn't lie, nor even soften the ugliness, not when Fai had detected the truth for himself. "Fai, you shouldn't be here. Please go home." All he could do was plead with Fai to leave. He couldn't force Fai to do anything Fai didn't want to do, but Fai usually accommodated him. Ashura promised, "We'll talk when I get back."

"I'm the Royal Wizard," Fai said. "I should be here with you. I should be helping."

"No, Fai. Not this time."

"You gave me the D title for service to Seresu. You made me Royal Wizard. I have responsibilities." Despite its childish pitch, his voice seemed to change, becoming formidable and filled with age, with abominable experience.

Fai's stared at and through Ashura, his eyes hard and relentless, as though he were an adamant, seasoned war wizard of ninety years, rather than a little child. His age, though, was only physical. For all Ashura knew, Fai might be nine hundred years old, not merely nine.

Ashura always floundered on those occasions when Fai's unnatural maturity made its presence known. It always took Ashura by surprise, and left him feeling outclassed and overmatched. At least those instances were becoming rarer, as time put some distance between Fai and his past.

"I wonder if this is my fault," said Fai, very softly, as though he were musing to himself.

Ashura started at that. "No," he replied. "It was random chance. It has nothing to do with you."

"It's like in Valeria."

"No, it is not." Ashura kept his voice low, but stressed every syllable. "It is nothing like Valeria. It was a random avalanche. They happen here. Sometimes a settlement is just...in the way. It happens."

"My brother and I—"

"NO!"

Fai gaped at him. So did the royal guards, who had been keeping idle watch over the surroundings until the moment Ashura had shouted.

Ashura waved at them casually, letting them know that nothing was wrong and that they should return to keeping watch. He knelt down before Fai. He raised his hands, wanting to enfold Fai in a protective embrace, but Fai looked so stiff and bleak, like an old granite statue, deeply worn by time, weathered and weary, but still upright and firm. Defeated, Ashura covered his own face, breathing out a long exhalation, and then worked up the nerve to rest his hands on Fai's shoulders.

"Fai, you may not have seen the full extent of damage for yourself before, but you know avalanches are common in Seresu," he said, staring into his child's fathomless, ageless blue eyes. "They are a natural, normal hazard. Towns and villages have been destroyed by them throughout this country's entire history. They have occurred countless times in the thousands of years that passed before you ever came here, and they will continue for as long as Seresu endures."

He hoped he had killed Fai's fledgling speculations on that old Valerian belief about twins causing misfortune. Despite the fact that Fai's brother was long dead, deep down Fai had never truly purged his innate fear, his conviction, that he brought tragedy to those around him. He would probably carry those fears for a long, long time.

Under Ashura's hands, Fai's shoulders were rigid, his posture unyielding. Fai said, "I am the Royal Wizard. I am a D-titled wizard."

Ashura briefly closed his eyes. His fingers tightened on Fai, relaxed again. "Yes, you are."

"This country is mine now. Its people are my people."

"Yes."

A light gust ruffled their furred garments. Ashura's hair and Fai's blond locks fluttered in the chill breeze. The wind died again.

Fai said, "I want to help my people."

"That is a good desire," Ashura said, while his stomach clenched.

"It is my duty," Fai said with determination.

Ashura's stomach did backflips, but he kept his expression calm. "You already fulfill your duty admirably. You are an excellent Royal Wizard. Your D title was, and is, well earned."

"You keep telling me I am the most powerful wizard in the country."

"Yes, because it is true," Ashura confirmed. His stomach stopped doing acrobatics and settled on producing enormous amounts of acid, instead. "You are the most powerful wizard in the entire world." What else could he say? Fai was the most powerful wizard in the world. There was no denying it.

He wished Fai would return to being a child, to being his sweet, innocent little boy. This latest mature mood was unbearable.

"My power is very destructive," Fai said, his gaze growing wintry.

"It can be," Ashura agreed slowly. "It depends on how you use it, and the care you exercise."

"As destructive as this avalanche."

Again, it was the simple, unvarnished truth. Fai's power, combined with the evil curse he didn't even know he bore, could destroy an entire world. Ashura wondered what, exactly, was in Fai's mind. Was he still dwelling on the past, thinking of how he had been blamed for calamities in Valeria?

Ashura picked his next words carefully. "Fai, all power can be destructive, whether it is the result of natural forces or human desires. Power itself is neither good nor evil. Nature's power is awesome and unpredictable, and therefore dangerous, but it is mindless and undirected. Humans are different. They possess will and intent. They can control their actions, temper and direct their power according to their desires. The most destructive power can be turned to good purposes by a sufficiently skilled and resourceful person."

"I want to protect my people," said Fai, "but sometimes I'm so afraid."

"You do protect your people," Ashura insisted. "Think of all the times you have used your power to help the people of Seresu." He deliberately chose an example where destructive power had led to good results. "Remember that time last spring when you broke free the ice jam on the Vilyu River? Had you not done so, the river would have soon backed up and flooded the village there. Uncontrolled flooding of the freezing water and ice would have caused horrible damage to the villagers' homes and fields. Your power averted great hardship for those people."

Fai didn't look convinced.

Ashura offered more examples, of simple, everyday activities that Fai probably took for granted. "And must I remind you that nothing is destroyed when you use your magic to sense and locate lost or hidden things, or when you travel? What was destroyed when you teleported here?" He deliberately did not mention how Fai had used a finding spell to seek out survivors just a little while ago. He didn't think that would be helpful under the circumstances.

Fai's expression didn't change, but he said thoughtfully, "My power..."

Ashura held his breath. Had his arguments been enough to allay Fai's recurrent fears?

Fai's eyes darkened. "I never want to see another avalanche destroy a town again."

"Fai, I told you, avalanches happen in Seresu. They are an uncontrollable force of nature. We try to locate new settlements as safely as possible and set up barricades where viable, but there are always constraints and necessities. Nadenda was a mining town, so it needed to be near the mine here. We do what we can to prepare, but—"

"If I am human, I possess will and intent. You just said so."

"If you are human?" Ashura repeated dumbly. "Fai, what are you talking about?" He knew Fai was perfectly human. He also knew that someday, far in the future, Fai would become something other than human. Fai couldn't possibly know that future, though, so what maggot had gotten into his head now?

Fai's gaze again swept over the dead, the devastation, of Nadenda, of the recent avalanche's wake. "I will protect my people."

Ashura's heart thumped so loudly he feared it might deafen him. "From avalanches?" he managed to get out.

"Yes," said Fai. "From avalanches. And from other hazards. I will. It is my duty."

"Do not impose unreasonable expectations on yourself. You are still just a child." It was a last gasp protest, but Fai's unrelenting maturity was as formidable and terrifying a force as any avalanche. "You cannot ask more of yourself than the other D-titled wizards. They are older, more experienced, more knowledgeable—"

"I am more powerful than them. My burdens must be heavier."

"Give yourself time to grow up. You are too young."

"I will be what I need to be." Fai's voice was calm and quiet, yet to Ashura it seemed a knell of doom. Fai stepped back, out of Ashura's grip, as though rejecting any human touch. Cold as snow and ice, he stared up at the leaden sky. His expression was remote, his sad eyes seemingly locked on distant events. "I will do what I must, in all things. For all my life." For an instant, he was winter personified.

No! Ashura's heart howled. He wanted to scream, to fling himself upon the ground and beat it with his fists. His guts writhed, and he barely prevented himself from spewing his last meal all over the snow. How could this conversation have led to such utter catastrophe?

He had thought he would comfort Fai, shield him from the ugliness of the deaths in Nadenda, divert him from thoughts of the dead Valerians in the prison pit. He had hoped to distract Fai from the horrible memories that might have been triggered by the sight of all the dead bodies lying not so far away.

Instead, everything that had just transpired had sealed Fai's fate, had determined his path.

His path through life.

His path to the future avalanche.

Everything that had happened had created and confirmed that future. There was no stopping it.

There had never been any stopping it.

Still on his knees, Ashura clasped his hands together, tightened them so hard he hurt himself. The snow beneath him felt cold, so cold, even through his warm furs, thick wool garments, and tooled leather boots. With stiff, wracking movements, he climbed to his feet.

In the time it took Ashura to stand, Fai's ageless, world-weary countenance fell away, revealing the young boy again.

"Don't you understand?" little Fai pleaded. "I have to do something! I have to help!"

The past determined the present. The past and present joined with human will, intent, and desire to create the future.

"I do understand, Fai," Ashura said heavily. He unclenched his hands, let them fall to his sides, useless and impotent. He never seemed able to salve this old wound of Fai's. Fai didn't merely want to help, though that desire was honest enough. Fai was kind, sometimes too kind for his own good, and far too introspective. He wanted to help, but he also wanted to atone. Atone for the supposed crime of being born a twin who brought misfortune in Valeria, and his misplaced sense of guilt for his brother's death. Fai's past continued to create his present, and his future.

His future...

Perhaps, Ashura thought, Fai even desired to atone for the actions he would take many years hence, in the service of that dark, polluted sorcerer he had bargained with back in his Valerian prison. Ashura could relate to the desire to compensate in the present for future evil.

"I understand," he repeated. He understood far too well.

"This is so awful," Fai said. "I can't stand by and let horrible things like this keep happening. I just can't."

"Fai, you must make me a promise," Ashura said, in a last, hopeless bid to protect his child. "You must let me know before you try to help in perilous situations. I do not say you cannot help, but some things must not be done alone. Some things require the assistance of many people. You must learn to let other people help you. You must not try to do everything alone." He stretched out his hand.

Fai moved forward and took hold of Ashura's fingers. "When are we going home?" he asked. "It's cold here." He gave a little shiver. He blew air through his lips in a long, showy stream of fog, and used a tiny hint of magic to twist it into lively little corkscrews.

Ashura noted how Fai had avoided making any promises. He should press Fai, he knew. He should extract the promise. But then, that would only force Fai to break his promise, wouldn't it? Ashura's own visions had shown him that Fai would try to stop an avalanche all by himself. There was no sense in pushing an issue that would only hurt Fai later, one that would make him feel torn in two between a promise to Ashura and his driven need to protect his adopted people.

Fai had been hurt enough already by his birth country and family. He would be hurt again, dreadfully, in the future, by his adoptive father.

Guilt was a terrible, self-destructive thing, no matter one's age. It drove one to foolish decisions.

Ashura pretended that Fai had deceived him. He let the matter drop.

Foolish decisions, indeed. But what else could he do?

"I cannot leave just yet," he said. "I must spend a little more time on site, to help encourage the workers and make certain their needs are met. You should return home now, though."

Fai tightened his grip on Ashura's hand. "I want to stay with you."

Ashura might have insisted, but the warmth of Fai's hand in his own seemed to seep through the heavy gloves.

"Very well," he said, and forced his lips to form a faint smile, something he hoped looked reassuring, rather than fake and strained. "I am sure everyone will be pleased to see you."

And so they were. Fai was a warm, bright light in winter's chill and the general atmosphere of depression, and all the rescue workers smiled upon him as he made the rounds with Ashura among the ruins of the dead village.