Gauntlets

Merc’a, wrapped in several layers of cold-weather clothing, stepped out of the insulated carriage she and three other people had ridden in to reach The City of Po Rae Home of the College. It had a long name, but it was the city built around the grandest institution of learning- The Arcane, where she and the young noble Hibart, who had been quite unbearable on the journey here, were both headed.

Thankfully, the elder couple they traveled with took it upon themselves to keep him at bay. Kolm and Selda were a kindly old couple coming to The City to visit family. Given that they were Varuundi, both people were armed and guaranteed to know what they were doing with said weapons; Hibart had been quite intimidated by the pair. Meanwhile, Merc’a felt quite at home with them; then again, she had a long knife she had been trained to use since childhood at her mother's behest.

They were all shivering in the cold while waiting on their luggage and the couriers. Merc’a and Hibart had given them their Tokens so their things would be taken to The Arcane and they had received reciepts; Kolm had given them one for an Inn. When the couriers headed out toward their destinations, Hibart followed after them.

“What did that dreadful man call himself?” Kolm asked, his breath fogging up the air before his face.

“Hibart, I believe, dear.” His wife said. Selda was a tiny woman, just as wrapped up against the cold as Merc’a, but she was mighty. Merc’a rather hoped she was like her at that age.

“Right bastard, that one.” Kolm spat into the snow.

“Let’s go somewhere warm, please,” Merc’a said as the cold soaked into her.

“Capital idea, this way to our inn. We’ll get you warmed up.” Kolm led the way with his arm linked with his wife’s. Merc'a followed them through the well-shoveled streets with ribbons and flags decorating every shop's front. Merc'a liked it as it reminded her of the colorfulness of her homeland, Faereldelen. It was a tropical land of many islands, and she missed its warmth dearly. She felt like she stood out with her dark skin and fiery eyes amid the pale people of Po Rae.

“Why is everything draped in ribbons and wreathes?” Merc’a asked, in awe of this strange, snow-smothered world. When she had first seen snow, she thought it was magical. Now, it was just frustrating.

“The Arcane Testing Days Festival. The City celebrates the influx of people and lifts the spirits of those who fail to pass.” Kolm explained.

“You’d be surprised how many people come to place bets on the Tests,” Selda said. “Rather low as far as humanity goes if you ask me.”

“People gamble on everything.” Kolm chuckled as they stepped into a small square among the many tall buildings. The City was built on a plateau, so horizontal space was somewhat limited, so vertical was the solution. The idea of being on the top floor of one of these buildings made Merc’a queasy. “There is our destination- The Snow Raven Inn.” Kolm pointed it out across the way.

“Oh, to be warm again.” Merc’a knew better than to hurry due to the constant slipping she had to deal with on the relatively short distance between the carriage drop-off and this square. But, soon enough, they were inside and sheltered from the elements, the wind most importantly.

“Go find a place by the fire, dear, and I’ll get you a bowl of porridge while Kolm checks us in.” Selda gently pushed her in that direction. Merc’a got as close to the fire as she could without getting into it. She studied the crowded tavern, seeing young people from Varuundi and Sorr’Naelen. Mostly, they kept to themselves except for two at the bar. The shorter of the two was the Sorr’Naelen, who were stout people renowned for being incredibly clever, while the taller of the two was Varuundi, who had a saber on his hip.

They were an unlikely pair but seemed genuinely delighted with each other's company. When Selda arrived with the bowl of porridge, Merc’a tested its temperature before quickly digging in and enjoying the internal heat that felt like it was thawing her organs.

“Thank you, Selda, but I need to get to The Arcane… how do I get there from here?” She inquired.

“Step out the door, left-handed u-turn up the steps to the wall. Turn right and follow the wall until you get to The Steps. Be careful; the wind is mighty as you cross the Chasm.” Selda gave her simple directions as she finished the porridge.

“Thank you for everything, Selda. I best be off to Testing.” Merc’a stood up and gave the little old lady a hug, a gesture that was warmly returned wit ha whispered 'good luck' in Merc'a's ear, before heading off to meet with her future. She noticed that the odd pair at the bar had left while she had been focused of her food.

The young woman braced herself before stepping back out into the cold, she looked around and followed the directions, she kept close to the wall to stay out of the wind as much as possible. When she turned to look at The Steps her breath caught in her throat. It was a narrow, stone staircase that stretched over an abyss. She hated heights.

Taking some deep cleansing breathes she prepped herself. Marching up the stairs she focused only on the end and doors to The Arcane. The wind was worse here because it wasn't blocked by anything but the low wall on either side of the crossing. As she made her way the cold soaked into her and slowed her down until she fell to her knees shivering.

A warmth wrapped around her with a comforting weight.

“Let's get you inside.” A deep voice that reminded her of thunder spoke softly and two giant hands lifted her back onto her feet “I can carry you if necessary.” They said.

“I can barely feel my feet.” She managed. Without a word this helpful giant lifted her into their arms like she weighed nothing at all and walked her the rest of the way, the heat of their body pushing the cold out of hers as they made their way. She looked up and saw a calm face, with simple but appealing features and no hair. “Who are you?”

“I am Garette of Old Vanguard, I am here to claim my Gauntlet.” He spoke quietly because her head was so close to his mouth.

“I am Merc'a of Faereldelen, and I thank you for saving me from the cold.” She couldn't help but curl up to his warmth.

“Just glad I came along when I did, Merc'a. Almost there.” His voice vibrated in his chest and she liked how that felt as it resonated through her. She looked around and realized that he was genuinely a giant.

“How tall are you?” she asked him, her fear of heights teasing the the back of her mind.

“Six foot five inches, is that a problem?” He sounded confused.

“No, I just don't like being up high.” Merc'a felt silly saying it out loud.

“We have arrived, let's get you inside and get you into fresh socks. Frost bite is best to be avoided.” Garette gently set her back down onto her feet so he could open the door for them.

“What is Frost bite?” She asked, a little worried some creature called this bridge and chasm home.

“It's when your digits get too cold and freeze, requiring amputation if you can't find a talented Healer very quickly.” He sounded as if he had dealt with the aftermath of this condition.

“I hate the cold!” Merc'a said pulled the hood his cloak, which was what he had wrapped around her, up to shelter her face.

“It doesn't have it's negatives, please, ladies first.” He held the door open for her and followed her into the main hall. It was full of young people and staff getting ready for the Tests to begin. Garette motioned for a young member of staff to come over. “Would it be too much trouble to get some fresh socks for Merc'a here?” He asked them.

“Not at all, it's a very common need after the trek up The Steps. I'll fetch those and come find you in line, don't want to be late for signing up.” The young man smiled. “I believe that line over there is your best bet, unless you have a Letter of Patronage, in which case you should present that to the woman over there at that table.”

“Thank you... it seems as though everyone is avoiding her.” Garette observed. The young man shrugged.

“That's Master of Testing Madam Sardarcus. I can't say anything else.” He said.

“Fair enough, I have a Letter for her, if you'd like I can find you after I deal with that.” Garette offered to continue helping Merc'a.

“I have a Letter too, actually so that makes this much easier.” Merc'a opened her coat to pull the envelope out. The young man jogged off to get her socks, Garette let her use his arm to steady herself as the made their way to the Master of Testing's table. She was in her later years with gray hair and wrinkles that were formed by the deep scowl on her face. She obviously hated being here.

“This is not for general Testing sign ups.” She waved them off with a wispy hand.

“We have Letters of Patronage, there is no need to be dismissive.” Garette pointed out, if looks could kill Merc'a was pretty sure she would be killed by the fallout of the glare that the old woman sent at Garette.

“Very well, please hand them over.” Madam Sardarcus didn't extend a hand.

“Thank you for your time.” Garette put his envelope on the table and waited until Merc'a had added hers and Madam Sardarcus had taken them.

“I need socks.” Merc'a said, excusing herself before the old woman's eyes froze her solid.