Araellor and Garret returned with enough kindling and wood to fuel a decent fire and also some to provide adequate camouflage for our makeshift camp. Araellor had also snared a couple of rabbits, gutted and skinned already, and strung on a long branch to roast over the fire.

So many factors had brought about my less-than-jovial mood. In fact, I was bordering morose. The biggest contributor was the fact that our learned superiors had deliberately misled us. Or to be more accurate, failed us. Keeping us in the dark about certain aspects of this unforgiving territory coupled with the high probability we may die, made me chew over my decision to become part of the Kirin Tor. I'd known that the Magocrasy was steeped in secrecy where their magic was concerned – a profession consisting of volatile and dangerous elements, particularly if utilised by untrained novices who did not possess sufficient knowledge of the arts. But to knowingly put their members in danger by withholding information that could spell their demise, was unforgivable. And surely, it was against protocol.

Our meal was cooked and consumed mostly in silence; at least where I was concerned. Felenn, Araellor and Garret spoke freely together, although there was a slight air of tension. Understandable with one of our team down due to an animal attack. One which, although none of us said it out loud, may well have drained our colleague of his magic. We just wouldn't know until he was better and could attempt to channel in a much safer environment.

But in my mind, there were worse fates to be had out there in the snow-ravaged land. The thought that those six missing magi were still out there, possibly polymorphed into dragonkin. Enslaved as soldiers for the inscrutable and elusive Malygos. If we were to come across them, would they really assault their brethren? Would they even recognise the Kirin Tor sigil?

I had a fleeting vision of my father. I could see him standing before me, shaking his head. I didn't want you to be a mage, Klara – I could hear him saying. Perhaps now, you know my real reasons for being so against your choosing this path.

I had no idea if he really knew of the singular dangers magi faced. But I was pretty sure that now his daughter faced such a threat, had he still served, he would have been ordering every man under his command to ensure my safety.

And as his image wavered and finally vanished, I was left wondering what my mother would have told me. In my heart, I knew. Stay true, Klara. she'd say. Stay true.

"Are you still fretting about Araellor?" Felenn whispered in my ear after our meal.

I looked over to where the subject matter crouched. He was with Garret and Aden, assessing the latter's ability to continue with the expedition.

I shook my head in answer to Felenn's question. I don't think she believed me, but she didn't press the matter.

We both looked up as Araellor and Garret approached. The magus smiled as he told us that Aden was feeling a lot better and thought he could - would - be able to continue with us. It was a relief to know our numbers were not going to be diminished, certainly.

"But it's getting dark now," Araellor said. "And although we could make good time, I think it will be too risky to navigate the precarious path to the Nexus in the fading light. So, we will stay here tonight and head out early tomorrow."

I just nodded. Felenn thanked both him and Garret for their consideration before she shimmied over to Aden.

I was painfully aware the hunter remained just a few feet from me, but I refused to make eye contact. He had other ideas though.

"What has you so uptight, Klara? Is it me? Or is this expedition proving too much for you?"

Elves seemed to have a canny knack for being blunt, for slicing straight to the point. And unnervingly, they were able to home in on my discomfort around them, too. I ground my teeth, still avoiding looking at him. "I'm just tired," I replied, flat, dismissive.

He grunted. At first, I thought he was readying to turn away, but instead, he loosened the straps of his leather cuirass before sitting beside me, crossed-legged, pulling his heels in tight. Silence prevailed.

Uncomfortably, I watched the flames dance, jumping a little each time they spat and crackled. Occasionally I flicked a glance in Felenn's direction, but she was occupied with Aden, tending to his injury, cleaning his wound and applying a fresh dressing. I noted how easily the two human magi interacted with her. Natural, comfortable. Friendly almost. As if they'd known her for years. I swallowed as the bitter rush of envy washed over me. I was more disappointed to acknowledge I was green-eyed about an elf, about Felenn, rather than just the fact I was experiencing jealousy.

Without warning, my father's objection to my wanting to become a mage slammed into me, and for all he'd later relented, even encouraged me in my career path, it was his initial disdain that was prevalent in my mind. Then my mother's 'secret' plagued my thoughts. I subconsciously reached for her locket. I now wore it around my neck, thinking it would be safer next to my skin rather than tucked away in the pretty pouch Felenn had gifted me. Next, my family's escape from Stratholme flared in front of my eyes; The journey in our covered wagon. The nights we spent in hiding along the northern border. Voices of the malicious elves. A painted face…

"She thinks very highly of you, you know?" Araellor's voice invaded my memories, bringing me hurtling back to the moment.

"What?" I asked, startled. "Who?" I glanced over at Felenn again.

"No, not your colleague," he said realising where my focus had roamed. "Modera."

"What?" I repeated stupidly. The fog from my recent reverie was still preventing me from thinking clearly. That, and my distinct dislike of Araellor's closeness.

He fumbled with the sides of his armour and produced a piece of parchment. Instantly, I noted the Kirin Tor sigil with Modera's wax seal. I watched silently as he unfolded the letter. Clearing his throat, he leaned a little towards the flames securing their light, then he began to read aloud.

"I would ask that you provide your first-rate services in protecting my two recently qualified Adepts who will be joining the studies at the Transitus Shield in Coldarra within the week. Both girls are exceptional students. Felenn is a natural in the art of spell-crafting, and quite frankly I have no doubt she will succeed in this task without too much intervention. Klara, however, has shown abilities, the likes of which I have only come across once before. She is, therefore… unique, and I charge you with making her safety the top priority."

I was stunned. Utterly bereft of words. I knew the Archmage had come to accept me, frequently awarding me high acclaim, but I had no idea of the depth of her faith in me. Or why. Even more puzzling was Araellor, and the fact he'd read the letter to me.

I made to grab it, but he quickly snatched the parchment out of my reach. "Tut, tut!" he said, a smile tweaking the corners of his mouth. He proceeded to fold the letter up again and tucked it back inside his armour.

"I don't believe you," I said, not entirely accusatory, but not exactly friendly either.

"That's your prerogative," Araellor replied, poking at a stray stick that had tumbled out of the small fire. He flung it back into the flames and we watched as they greedily devoured the thin and brittle wood.

I realised he wasn't going to move, so rather than suffer an excruciatingly long silence, I decided to open a conversation. "How do you know her so well?" I ventured.

"Modera?" He cocked a willowy eyebrow and I watched as it seemed to hover in the heat projected from the fire. "I told you my mother was a mage, did I not?"

I scowled.

Holding up a hand as if to placate me he continued. "That was not a criticism of your ability to remember, but rather just my double-checking I'd mentioned the fact."

"Yes. You did."

"Good." His long hair shifted across his shoulders as he nodded confirmation. "Well, they were quite close, Modera and my mother. Friends. So, I've known your mentor for some time now."

"Yet you call her the Ice Queen."

Araellor chuckled. The sound seemed to linger in his chest, soft, warm, linked to a memory, if I was not mistaken.

"I didn't mean it the way I said before. It was more to do with a certain 'coolness' she adopted when…" He paused. Then, "My mother died when Kel'thuzad's devious plans were outed."

My stomach churned at the mention of the former Kirin Tor member. "I – I'm sorry," I said. I meant it too.

A winsome smile graced the hunter's lips then. "She had hoped the rumours about his 'practices' were mistaken. But she, along with Modera and others, was present when his experiments were discovered."

My jaw slackened as I imagined the horrors the magi must have witnessed when finding one of their own dabbling in forbidden magics.

Araellor continued, his voice soft, deep and reflective. "My mother was an exceptional mage, well thought of, kind and trusting. Too much, it seems, for on his banishment from the Kirin Tor, Kel'thuzad unleashed a spell which hit my mother square in the chest. She died immediately."

I couldn't speak. Knowing only too well the agony of losing a mother, I was overcome by Araellor's story. It was not something I'd expected to hear from the arrogant male elf. And in that instant, I realised that perhaps Modera's worry and concern for me was because I, too, had suffered as a result of Kel'thuzad's magic, albeit indirectly. Perhaps, my abilities and my grasp of magic served a reminder for my mentor; the likes of which I have only come across once before… she'd written. Could Modera be referring to Araellor's mother in that letter? With that said, I then understood why she'd selected Araellor to protect us. To protect me.

Our eyes drifted back to fire both seemingly entranced by images only we saw within the dancing flames.

"Sleep well, Klara," Araellor said. He rose and crossed over to where Aden and Garret were settling for the night, just as Felenn was making her way back beside me. I watched as Araellor acknowledged the others, then settled on the furs and blankets that served as his bed. I knew with the utmost certainty he would not sleep much, if at all. Garret shared the watch, but still, the hunter, guardian and protector that was Araellor Wildheart, would not fail in his duty. Not at any cost.