As the wind picked up, Nantosuelta realized that her magic was doing about as much good as a lukewarm cup of tea in a snowstorm. Her fire magic, which normally blazed with the intensity of a summer sun, was now a flickering candle barely managing to keep her from becoming a popsicle. She had to admit, freezing to death wasn't high on her list of things to do, so she reluctantly decided to head to the capital city of Aquapolis, Glacierer, to seek shelter at an inn for the night.
With the kind of resignation usually reserved for people realizing they've walked into the wrong meeting, Nantosuelta trudged toward Glacierer. The cold bit at her cheeks and seeped into her bones, and she couldn't help but think that maybe the locals were actually part snowman. She pushed forward through the snow, driven by the urgent need to not become a permanent ice sculpture.
Aquapolis residents were used to this kind of weather, likely scoffing at the cold with the kind of bravado only achieved by people who had never felt the glorious heat of Ignis. But for Nantosuelta, who was more accustomed to temperatures that could melt your shoes, the cold was doing terrible things to her. Things like convincing her that this whole questing business was highly overrated.
As she walked down the quiet road, feeling like an underdressed extra in a winter horror movie, Nantosuelta suddenly found herself ambushed by a couple of masked men. Because, of course, when you're freezing to death, the universe likes to throw in a robbery to really spice things up. It was clear that these charming individuals were thieves, hoping to make a quick score off a lone traveler in the dead of night.
But Nantosuelta wasn't scared. Sure, she was cold and miserable, but she wasn't about to let a couple of masked idiots ruin her night. She had magic—air and earth magic, to be precise—and she was more than capable of defending herself. Or so she thought.
The men approached, their eyes fixed on her bag with the kind of greed that suggested they were overdue for a lesson in manners.
"Hand over the bag," one of them demanded, his voice about as threatening as a slightly annoyed house cat.
Nantosuelta tightened her grip on the bag, narrowing her eyes. "I am a mage. Don't underestimate me. If you come any closer, I'll hurt you."
The men laughed, the kind of laugh that said they had absolutely no idea what they were dealing with. "A mage, huh? And what are you going to do?" one of them scoffed.
Before she could respond with a scathing retort, another man raised his hand. A powerful gust of air surged out, slamming into Nantosuelta's chest and sending her stumbling backward like a poorly anchored tent in a storm. Her bag slipped from her grasp, falling to the ground with a disheartening thud.
As she scrambled to regain her footing, Nantosuelta realized that these men were also mages. Fantastic. They were not only thieving jerks but also magically inclined thieving jerks. And to make matters worse, she couldn't use her fire magic against them without giving away her origin as someone from Ignis—a detail she was trying very hard to keep under wraps.
Her mind raced, trying to think of alternatives. Maybe she could offer them a strongly worded letter or a stern lecture on the ethics of robbery? No? Okay, then magic it was.
Desperately, she tried to fend off the attackers using her air and earth magic. She conjured gusts of wind to push them back and summoned shards of earth to create a barrier. But these guys weren't amateurs; they countered her every move with irritating efficiency, making it clear that she was outmatched and quickly running out of ideas.
With each failed attempt, Nantosuelta felt her frustration grow. It was like trying to fend off a pack of wolves with a particularly angry squirrel. Realizing she couldn't win this fight, she made a quick decision.
With a scream of frustration that was equal parts rage and resignation, she abandoned her struggle and ran, dashing toward the road and leaving her bag—and any shred of dignity—behind. The men's mocking laughter echoed in her ears as she fled, the sound confirming that her night was officially terrible.
Now, alone in the dark, freezing streets of Glacierer with no money, no shelter, and no bag, Nantosuelta was left feeling utterly and completely helpless. Her fire magic, once her trusty source of warmth, was now about as useful as a wet matchstick. The city's icy grip was closing in on her, and she knew she needed to find warmth or she'd soon be a Nantosuelta-sicle.
As she entered Glacierer, she spotted an inn up ahead, its warm glow a beacon of hope in the otherwise frozen landscape. She trudged toward it, each step a battle against the cold that seemed determined to see her drop dead.
By the time she reached the inn, she was barely holding it together. Her clothes were soaked, her fingers were numb, and she was pretty sure her internal organs were now ice cubes. She pushed open the wooden gates of the inn, but the effort proved too much. The freezing cold overwhelmed her, and her vision blurred before she collapsed into the snow like a discarded marionette.
Fortunately, the innkeeper, who had been outside checking on supplies, spotted Nantosuelta's dramatic entrance. With the kind of concern usually reserved for lost puppies, the innkeeper rushed over and helped her to her feet, guiding her into the warmth of the inn before she could fully embrace the idea of a snowy grave.
Once inside, the innkeeper carefully laid Nantosuelta on a nearby bench, covering her with blankets in a way that suggested she had done this a few times before. The innkeeper could immediately tell that Nantosuelta wasn't from Aquapolis—because anyone from Aquapolis would be handling the cold with the ease of someone who didn't think snow was a personal attack.
The innkeeper, who introduced herself as Mai, had clearly seen enough travelers from warmer lands to recognize the signs. After all, the locals didn't usually collapse at the mere sight of a snowflake.
At dusk, Nantosuelta woke up to find Mai sitting beside her, a cup of steaming tea in hand. The innkeeper smiled warmly, offering her the tea with the kind of patience only innkeepers and saints possessed.
"Take your time," Mai said softly. "You were quite cold out there. It's clear you're not used to this weather."