City of a Thousand Mirrors

[Κομμα]

They say that when the surface of an ice cube is ultra smooth, it can be used as a mirror. Put this theory to the test. Come stay a few nights in the PermaFrost, the only city to be carved out of an entire glacier. The colored icy walls are so smooth that both sunlight and moonlight are reflected off their surface. Is this the reason why this apparently uninhabited city never melts?

[Κομμα]

They were here; Ferros could almost feel them.

For all the time he had spent around the infernal things, them flocking to him like moths to a he ought to be able to feel their presence. It was only natural that they should appear in a city forgotten by its own realm, in the very place where she had been forgotten.

The old man had a theory that Ferros couldn't be forgotten because of what he was, and that it was plenty safe for him to go. It was only a theory, of course; but it was a logical and fairly solid one, and Cornelius was usually right about these things.

Aside from this, it wasn't his place to refuse an order from his commander.

The old alchemist seemed to think that which had made her could be her undoing, but it all seemed just a little too poetic to Ferros. It was understandable t exhaust all options, but this seemed a little too simple.

A few times he had caught glimpses of reflections of eyes that weren't his own in the smoothed ice surfaces, eyes that didn't seem to belong to the long forgotten residents of this city. Those eyes were well alive and thriving, if only a little fearful. There were rumors that some of his own had fled Miasma to be shunted away from Muse civilization as freaks, and they had defected out into the old, forgotten wastelands far outside the center of things to live in their own outcast societies among the long forgotten old residents.

There were whispers that Miasma herself had been forgotten here. If it were true, then the very source of her hate and jealousy and longing were hidden away within these reflective, icy walls.

[Rae]

Jem followed Garth at a respectful distance. Neither of them were used to, or even really liked, being this cold. They were both from Samarkand, which was mostly a desert country, and they both prefered a more...mixed climate. But they were both beyond that.

Will users, especially the best ones, were adaptable. Rigid-thinking was the enemy of all mages, for how could you think up new spells when your mind was stubbornly bolted to the preachings of the past? Or, at least that's what Jem had been taught. He had a bitof a hard time being as open as Garth, despite the elderly Hero's teachings.

The ice city was creepy, though, and Jem still didn't know why they were there. He'd just been handed an old, tarnished ring and had been told to protect it with his life and to follow Garth. But...nothing made sense. Why did they have to take the ring here? And what was up with this city? He could swear he'd seen people's reflections in the ice; people that weren't there. He thought he could hear strange things, too.

Not even the Northern Wastes or the Necropolis were this strange. Well, that he'd seen. Then again, he'd never been beyond the Bronze Gate.

"What are we doing here?" Jem thought aloud, frightening himself at the unexpected sound of his own, whispered, voice.

Garth, with his dark skin and whiten hair, didn't look at him as they kep walking. But his slow, calming voice was nervously anxious as he replied, "Trying to help an old friend."

[Elindë]

[Hey! Do you guys mind if I join you and dump my two newest in here? And should I disappear, which I'll try not to but might have to do, please carry on; I'll catch up XD. And long post is long O.o]

The sound of the oars slipping in and out of the water should have been the only sound, but it wasn't. Creidhe was sure he could hear whisperings from the very ice which rose up steeply on either side. He huffed with the effort of rowing and noted his breath instantly condensing in the freezing air. He caught himself wondering why his companion seemed unaffected by the temperatures, then remembered the brunette's condition. He doubted much affected the Nandor in the bow.

"Can you see anything?" He asked, twisting round as best he could in his thick clothing to look at the other. The other was wearing just the strange tunic everyone had worn at the end of his lifetime. It was meant for court, not an ice city, and must have been perishingly thin. But the slightly tanned hands wrapped around the lantern pole weren't shivering at all.Creidhe had so far got no reply. He huffed; "Saeros, answer me."

Saeros' head twitched slightly and Creidhe could now see the small cloud of condensation from his breath coming over his shoulder. "Do you not trust me to tell you if there was danger?"

"Quite frankly no," Creidhe muttered, turning round again and pulling as hard as he could on the oars. Saeros heard the comment, and Creidhe felt him shift in the boat, and heard the clink as the other picked up Creidhe's riffel from the belly of the boat. "Leave that alone!" He ordered, but Saeros meerly snorted. He removed the safety catch and pointed it at an ice stack someway off. He pulled the trigger. The sound echoed around and around the eerie space and the tower shivered down into the water. "That's seven years bad luck," Creidhe shot over his shoulder.

"Had they been mirrors it would have been. But do you really think such a thing could phase me? How could my luck be any worse?"

"Put the gun back or I'll-"

"You'll what? Kill me? I'd like to hear a threat that would actually move me to do something."

Creidhe cursed under his breath in his own language. "I am sure there is something-"

An icy hand on his back made him jump, sending the oars out of their notches. "Stop doing that!" He shouted.

"There really is nothing," Saeros hissed. He glanced back over his shoulder and tensed. "There's something moving."

"Where?"

"Over there."

"I can't see if you point. Direct me to somewhere we can make... I suppose you'd call it landfall."

Saeros did as bidden but jumped the boat as soon as the distance between its side and the ice was small enough. He walked quickly off between the strange towers before Creidhe could secure the boat.Torn between losing the boat and being left alone in this extreme environment, Creidhe left the boat only loosely tied, grabbed his riffel and hurried after the Nandor, trying not to slip on the glassy surface as he went.

[Rae]

[Hai, Eli! ^^ I don't mind. *glomps* Do you mind if I direct Garth and Jem toward your muses? ^^; ]

Jem jumped slightly at the sound of a rifle and the subsequent noise of ice crashing into the water far below them. Unfortunately for him, Garth saw it.

"Keep your mind on your task, Jem. You need to keep focused if you want to grow as a Hero."

"But, Master Garth, that sounded like a rifle...I thought the city was deserted," Jem replied, worrying slightly. He hoped none of his friends had followed them. The last thing they needed was to be bogged down by one of his fellow Heroes.

Garth was outwardly unconcerned. "Unless the rifle-bearer is creeping up upon us at this very moment, I suggest you not think to heavily on it."

Jem sighed. "Yes, Master Garth."

Inwardly, Garth was worried. Nothing good ever came from people gathering in hostile, isolated locations. Especially if they were as strange as this place. He was beginning to wonder if he should have listened to his friends and not agreed to lead Jem.

[Elindë]

[-glomps- Sure thing! I would have brought them closer but I'd already written so much. And it's happened again DX They banter so much!]

"I heard voices."

Saeros turned round on the stairway leading up to the main level of the city. He raised his eyebrows and sighed as Creidhe stopped dead to listen.

"I always make sure I see people before they see me," Creidhe explained eventually.

Saeros snorted, "Why? Where's the prowess in that? No, make yourself known. Challenge them in full sight of as many people as possible. That is the only way to to do such a thing worthely."

"Isn't that also what got you killed?" Creidhe asked, the corner of his mouth twisting upwards. Saeros suddenly looked like he was sucking on a lemon. Creidhe laughed quietly and pushed past him towards the stop of the stairs.

"Well then I shall leave you to your skulking," the Nandor replied.

Creidhe touched the butt of his rifle to his temple in salute and turned the corner. When Saeros reached the same spot the taller Elf had indeed melted into the strange ice landscape. Though Saeros was loathed to do so, he had to admit that the other was more skilled than he had given credit for. Mind you it wasn't the first time he'd underestimated people.

So the two Elves, one seen and one unseen, made their way over to the small group of travellers they could now see someway off. Saeros found himself wishing he knew if they were armed and how, though millennia spent with the 'nutters' that were Saeros' only constant company had taught him how to duck out of the way if things became nasty.