With the sun slowly setting came a chance for snow on the next day. When it hailed, morians usually avoided travelling, since, especially during the night, it made it hard to progress. The snow-covered tracks, which were carved in by others, hid any potential hints as to where one should go. Even experts of Shimori, such as Bancho, refused to travel in such conditions. If a morian were caught outside, they usually sought refuge under trees or in small holes etched into the rocky hills.
Some prepared in advance if they believed it was going to hail beforehand. They'd take a nice, visible blue tent made from a thick combination of cotton and wool and sleep in until the weather cleared and the sun or the night lights were visible again.
Knowing all this, Bancho decided to halt his travels. Throughout, he had already managed to make his way towards the small entrance of Cirim, which would lead him to the country of Malikan. Unlike most morians, however, he didn't carry a tent; instead, he relied on a specific person to let him rest for the upcoming journey.
Stepping down from Pearl, he petted her head and tightened the rope around a small fence before turning to a hut that was as humble as such. Its roof was made of thick, piled straw, which seemed to absorb most of the white fluff. Even better, it melted by the hour, sliding into yet space, insulating the walls with tinges of fire spreading from the one big chimney climbing above the wooden structure.
Well, knowing the owner, it wasn't just any wood to begin with. He recalled the stories of asking favours about bringing the special kind from deep in Mirillis, which now formed an uneven square with a pen at the side and a few of the stretching white uphills behind.
He focused on the door instead, as the commotion seemed to alert the one inside.
"Ah, Bancho!" A woman raised her voice, and the other welcomed her with a warm smile.
"Mrs Lisa," Bancho bowed. "It's good to see you again."
"What Shin winds have brought you here at the end of Yule? I thought you'd be busy with all the Demonear shenanigans!" Lisa snickered, running back into her cramped hut, putting on thick gloves and taking off the black cauldron with at least two litres of the fresh hot soup she prepared.
Bancho took a gander inside. Everything seemed to be out of order, but such was precisely what Lisa made her house to be. To her, when things stood in places where they normally shouldn't, it meant that something had to be worked on. For example, there was a fence in the small, rectangular kitchen area, and two ladders, one broken, which led up to her bed.
"If you'd sent a bird earlier, I'd have prepared more! You always had quite the appetite! Oh, I know! I'll mash you some seeds as a side meal to the soup, I'll mix 'em up with some jul meat and you'll be full before you know it!"
Lisa turned, holding the open door and staring at the other morian.
"Come in, Bancho! Pretty sure it's going to snow tomorrow. Who knows if Shin decides to play around with the clouds a little earlier?"
"That's precisely why I'm here," Bancho announced. "I'll stay in until the snow passes."
"Of course!" she waved, speaking out in a rather raspy voice. "Stupid old me, why would anyone want to visit this grandma otherwise, if it wasn't for a warm refuge?"
"C-Come on, Mrs Lisa." Bancho sat down on the carpeted floor, crossing his legs. "You're making me look like the bad guy here. I just haven't found the time for simple travels."
"Quite the road, yeah." She raised her voice before setting two plates down on a small table. Bancho nodded, picking up the spoon. "I do wish you came by more often. How long has it been since I last saw you? Five years? Seems like you haven't aged a day."
"In one's eyes, for sure," Bancho uttered.
"Oh, stop it with humility, will you? Look at this old hag, I only seem to get shorter and shorter with age!"
"Morians are one of the smaller races in Errarion," Bancho added. "I guess on par with Mirilians."
"...and unlike tributals," Lisa pointed her spoon. "Morians don't age as well as you do!"
Bancho chuckled.
"Shin must've truly blessed you!" she added. "I'd have a word with him about picking favourites!"
Lisa was right—morians did get shorter with age. The average for adults was about 170 cm, and then their height slowly decreased once they reached their sixties. At this point, Morio would have been taller than Lisa.
On par, the items in her hut also become smaller. She replaced the larger tables, such so she could sit on the floor and enjoy her meal.
"You seem to be fine, though." Bancho spotted, putting down the spoon, glancing around the hut. "It's still as lively as you are. Your age doesn't seem to affect your ability to do essentially what you've always done."
"Handcrafts? Or are you talking about my independence?" she winked.
"All of it," he replied.
"Well, Bancho!" she stood up, stomping over to the kitchen, pouring another bowl for herself. "Some things don't fade with time. I'm fine on my own, and I even built those new support pillars for the roof last Gorro! The brain doesn't age, that's what I'd say. I feel it in my bones, though," she admitted, putting her hand around her back, as it landed on the green, fuzzy carpet, and then on her spine. "Maybe five more, and I'll be gone. But you better know, Bancho!" she pointed, sitting down once more. "I'll still be kicking it on the last day! I intend to leave no project unfinished!"
Bancho chortled, taking the last sip of the soup. "This isn't really about your age, I don't doubt that, Mrs Lisa. It's safety. I thought I ought to warn you of the things happening around Shimori."
"It's about those demons, isn't it? Birds tell me everything."
"Word spreads around Errarion faster than an eagle flies over the Sap Dog Desert," Bancho admitted, as the sky slowly dimmed, visible from the window behind him. "You're not a Demonear, Mrs Lisa. I think it's better if you finally move back to Mistwick, at least for these years."
"...and leave everything behind? Nonsense, Bancho."
"It's for your safety. I could make a detour and take you there, even now."
"If I lived this long, nothing is truly a threat anymore," she added, beaming. "I've survived waves of cold and extreme snowstorms. I've made a friend with an ice wolf in the area, and these weird dark deformities came out of Cirim and tried to attack me. Yet, I'm still here. When we were younger, we travelled around Shimori, remember? We weren't scared. Just a little curious."
Bancho glanced to the side.
"We saw a witch one day, blessing us with a good word, and we chased her up the hill and even managed to climb a mountain because we thought she'd lead us to some treasure. A normal morian would fear tapping into the unknown. They're not people who take risks. Then again, we're not normal, are we?"
Bancho sighed loudly.
"Old hags who should rest for a little longer but refuse to let fate play by its rules," she laughed.
"I guess so," Bancho said.
"Welp, good meal!" She put both hands on her knees and eventually stood up, treading to the door. "I'll put Pearl in pen with the others for the night. You don't want her to get covered with all that snow, do you?"
"Yes, thank you." Bancho nodded. "I hope the other morians find a way to deal with the snowstorm as well."
"The others?" Lisa asked.
"A bunch of young ones from Mistwick. They're travelling to Magna."
"It's the Demonear test, isn't it?"
Bancho halted for a quick while, taking a deep breath in.
"Do you want me to ask you to take part as well?" he chuckled.
"Pfft. Spare me a word about the morians." She nodded, putting her knee up, resting her elbow on the table.
"I think I told you about Gloria, didn't I?"
"The..." she blinked. "She's that white-haired gal, right? She had a son, if I'm not mistaken." She tapped at her forehead. "What was his name again?"
"Morio," he replied. "Quite the feisty one."
She stretched her legs out. "It was the other name I heard the birds spread."
Bancho looked down.
"Mistwick was attacked by a demon that day, and someone wasn't fast enough to act."
Her eyes wandered back to Bancho, who breathed out heavily.
"I'm not gonna judge you for it," she muttered. "Just wondering what kind of safety you tried bringing me into."
"I'm the one who keeps Mistwick safe," he added. "...and he and another are going to become Demonears for the same reason. At least, I can hope so."
"Spare some info on the other boy. Maybe I know."
"You don't," he chuckled. "...and it's just my suspicion that one boy can't move without the other."
"Right," she nodded.
"After I'm done with business in Malikan, I'll be off to Magna as well. No real telling what happens after they become Demonears, and that's why I'd want to know. Though... I'm sure they'll figure it out."
The other woman nodded as Bancho finished his portion. The next hours were either small talk or some explanations of the things seen around the house. As the man suspected, the snow did melt into hotter water, which was the reason why the hut was as unbeareably warm for him to take off his jacket.
Lisa didn't complain and climbed into her bed for the night, while Bancho spread out all the things he needed for a good night's sleep. This included his big pillow and the warm blanket that Lisa had given him, though he only hugged it.
Afterwards, he turned his eyes to the second floor. The other morian blew out the candle next to her bed and settled down.
A few minutes later, Bancho slowly climbed up the ladder. He stuck his hands out, almost touching her back.
"Mann resurum frisk (I resort to hoping)," spoke Bancho, as his palm lit up in a blue light. "Up mei junya. Nah kann (Let her live. Don't die.)." he shook his head.
"I don't need Demonear magic, Bancho," she muttered. "I'll be fine the way I am."
Bancho sighed, smiling.
"Goodnight," he added.
***
Morio and Jyuzou's first goal was reaching Wendigo, a town that, much like the Camp Forest, rested near the Aria River. It was closer to Magna, and a three-day-long trip, if everything went according to plan.
The quickest way to move through was taking a boat from one of the snowy edges and praying that the Middle Waters, which describe a section between the two towns, would be calm that day. However, Morio's plan meant going through the most obvious of paths, tracing the map and marking the roads with charcoal, using another piece of paper.
Eventually, they set out towards the Uvo Forest, which was coincidentally the same place where Bancho saw a demon the other night; however, now, this was no more than a plethora of trees, relatively even and bushless.
Snow was rather shallow; there weren't any big drifts, and the sun barely reflected on some of its parts. It had trouble sneaking in between the dark-green crowns, but you could spot anything out of the ordinary. A few animals roamed around, mainly with smaller juls (which could be described as this mix of wolves and hedgehogs) and actual hedgehogs, feeding on seeds. No people lived in the forest, and it was about an hour-long walk from there to the other side.
Once the barks grew sparser and were no longer so tightly packed, the two decided to take a short rest, breaking the rather awkward silence.
"This is probably the furthest I've ventured away from home." Jyuzou scratched his head.
"Really?" Morio asked. "Even I went to Century Valley with Mr Bancho once."
Jyuzou picked up a small twig from the ground. "I suppose I preferred how safe and i-inconsequential Mistwick was."
Morio tilted his head. He did not understand what "inconsequential" meant, especially with that stutter.
Jyuzou cleared his throat.
"I guess it's finally time to, uh." he gulped. "Go a little further."
"Heh." Morio turned, grabbing the mentioned stick from his palm. "We'll cross these paths together! I'm honoured that it's me who shows you the ropes, and not Victoria!"
"You seem excited."
"Why shouldn't I?"
"I don't know if there's anything cool about the dangerous Shimori." Jyuzou raised his voice.
"I'm a future Demonear!" he tapped Jyuzou's shoulder. "I'll handle everything!"
Jyuzou nodded, almost to himself, as Morio trod forward, carrying the stick like a true adventurer.
"Man," he uttered, loud enough. "I knew people said that the Uvo Forest was quite barren, but I half-expected at least some of that to be r-rumours." he fixed his glasses. "I haven't even seen any new plants yet, and..."
His eyes widened. A trail of seeds led to a bigger coniferous tree, standing atop a small hill separating the last copses of the forest. The morian looked up, spotting a plump, orange fruit.
"Nahi!" he pointed. "That's nahi!"
"Who?" Morio turned around.
"Not a person. The fruit!" Jyuzou added, smiling. "It's this sweet, jelly-like orb that sticks to the roof of your mouth and satisfies your thirst and hunger. It only grows on ciders like these, with a red tint to its wood," he pressed against the bark, as one bit fell off, revealing the exact shade he mentioned.
A wide smile appeared, and Morio seemed almost concerned.
"How are you planning to get that?" the other boy asked. "You're not tall enough to reach that branch."
Jyuzou started pacing back and forth, thinking of a solution to his newly-found problem. He took out both of his books, looked up, quickly sketched the fruit and put down the journal, before crouching and putting both of them on his head.
"I got it!" he yelled out. "Morio! Shake that tree with me!"
"Pff." Morio snorted. "I'm not doing that."
Jyuzou grabbed him by the cloak, almost choking him. "I'll give you half, okay? We both know how much you love food."
"It won't be as delicious as Metho seed!" Morio added, trying to escape his grasp.
"That salty little snack? Come on, only children eat all that" Jyuzou walked up to the tree and pushed on its bark. "Shake it, shake it! Morio!"
Morio sighed loudly, taking the bait. He put his hands on the other side of the tree, with much less enthusiasm.
"Shake it, shake it!" Jyuzou repeated. "Woohah, eureka!"
"Chanting won't help!"
"Shake, shake, shake, shake!" Jyuzou shouted.
"Oh!" Morio opened his mouth, his eyes scanning the fruit. In a few seconds, its rather flimsy stem split into two, and soon after, such was followed by the sound of something splashing, staining the snow.
Morio slowly turned to Jyuzou, who stared, devastated.
"We should've thought of that!" Jyuzou raised a finger.
"It was your idea!" Morio continued.
Jyuzou closed his eyes before turning. "Bah," he made a strange noise and followed through the snowy road.
Morio glanced at him for a while longer before glimpsing back at the orange juice, which gathered in one place, sucked into the snow.
"Don't eat the snow!" Jyuzou yelled out.
"Coming, coming!" Morio said, hopping towards Jyuzou.
Following through, the next step on the road turned into big hills, tilted upwards, decorated with patches of trees. The further they went, the more the terrain changed from grass covered in snow to rocks, ones that started shaping into a mountain. Upon reaching its peak, Morio took out the map and scribbled around on the other piece of paper.
This mountain had no name, yet was well known for being a place of rest during the annual Gorro animal hunts led by morians. At this time of year, people from Mistwick and Wendigo came out of their huts, wore their sleeveless jackets and ran through Shimori, trying to find as many animals for the feasts. It was said that the one with the highest count received a special prize from Bancho himself, but that only applied to Mistwick. The people from Wendigo enjoyed their meal without any strings attached.
Back to the mountain, if one got tired, they could easily catch some sleep, as no animals wandered around during the cold days. It was as purple as every other leaf or plant in Shimori, but too steep for some of them to walk on. During Yule, it was barely recognisable, however.
Morio and Jyuzou trod downwards, towards a rather empty valley, with trees extending on the other side. The road was more even, with copses present, almost dictating the path they were to take. After all, there was no way around the mountain and the sharp rocks or steep falls blocked them from taking any potential shortcuts, but at the same time, it wasn't a problem for morians.
In one of the tales Bancho told, when it came to climbing mountains, paladians would give up halfway, tributals would make a fuss, but morians would climb it without a second thought. On that note, mirillians would've found a way to move through the underground, and for some other reason, erans weren't mentioned.
For one moment, Morio turned around, seeing Mount Aria once more. The neat thing about Aria was that it could be seen from practically anywhere in Mainland Errarion. If you didn't know where you were, turning to that massive peak would be enough of a suggestion. Most of Jyuzou's assumptions about Morio's travelling philosophies stemmed from that belief, mainly because both of them were rather quiet during their travels.
Morio didn't explain why the path was chosen, but Jyuzou trusted him well enough since progress was made. Besides, he found the other variant of the Callothia, so win-win.
Reaching Century Valley, the trees were covered in thick lumps of sleet, barely revealing their dark green hues. Mentioning such, there weren't many. Morio and Jyuzou had to jump above the bigger snowdrifts, surrounded by a thick orange fog, signifying that the night had grown near. Worn from their travels, and following the most basic of intuition, they came down to finding a place to sleep for the night.
Century Valley, of course, was out of the picture. It was a place of silence, barely visible from the mountains and difficult to tread; however, that didn't seem to be a problem for the wild centuras, which would scour for any seeds to be found.
Centuras weren't dangerous creatures, but they were scared of morians, meaning they'd attack with their elongated, spider-like limbs and release a toxic acid from the opening below their stomachs. They varied greatly in size. Some were as small as rabbits, and some as big as deer. Some said that centuras were connected to demons, and others claimed that history wrote about them way before they were exclusive to the Mainland.
During Herbes and Gorro, Century Valley was nothing more than an empty stop between mountains. Morians who travelled, since there weren't many huts nearby, tended to stop for a moment to smell the flowers. They were very charming and resembled Gorro's manyberries.
As for historical events, it only had one. A Demonear was escorting a family from the depths of the Tukman Woods when a creature attacked them as the fog cleared into the night sky. He fought it off and then managed to climb on the centura's slimy back and travelled atop it as if it were a horse.
Morio and Jyuzou eventually trod through, chuckling at the said tale after one of them swore he saw a centura, and the other desperately searched for it to quench nature's thirst. With the mist slowly lifting, the two climbed the southern mountain. This time, it had no easy path to tread. It was full of steep steps, which led into caves or dangerous peaks. At times, they'd take a small break, as in, they could walk in a straight line for five minutes, balancing themselves on the rocks to not fall off.
After hours, they reached the top of Mistigo Mountain, named after the towns of Mistwick and Wendigo, since you could see the two from its summit. The morians strolled through the upper passages as the night sky changed colours.
"We should rest for the day," Jyuzou informed, scratching his head.
"I'm still up for a walk," Morio said. "I always wanted to travel with the night lights above me. Mama said they're pretty in the snow, and here's some confirmation!"
"You know the rules. Don't travel at night, unless you absolutely need to."
"Who told you that?" Morio squinted his eyes, smirking.
"Everyone knows that. Besides, I'm tired," Jyuzou added, before jumping down a few rocks and landing in a snow pile, next to a singular cinder tree. "We'll set up a tent here, okay?"
Morio hopped around, nodding.
The two got to work, fixing and moving the wool and cotton structure, before sitting down on the ground to start a fire. Jyuzou took a small black pot out of his backpack and placed it above the flames, adding some of the stew from a pouch and smashing some Metho seeds he carried.
Morio wrapped himself in the Talia cloak, beaming.
"Hm." Jyuzou made a strange noise before looking at Morio. "I'm kind of surprised."
"By what?" Morio snacked on a Metho seed from his collection.
"Maybe you are a w-wizard when it comes to maps and all that, but we haven't encountered anything dangerous since we left Shimori. O-Of course-" he snickered. "It's not that I want such to happen. I'm glad, actually, because then we really would need an actual wizard." Jyuzou explained.
Wizards were a term coined by the tributals. They specialised in, as one might've guessed, casting spells and using their abilities to mend wounds much quicker than usual. Their race, after all, was known for finding natural magic.
However, the word itself had two meanings. It was also what the male counterpart to witches was called, though it was rarely referred to as such, since there weren't many stories. They were called witchtales for a reason, as Gloria once cited.
For that reason, a lot of the world referred to the tributal wizards as wizens instead, but both terms were in use.
"Heh, we won't need a wizen soon." Morio pointed. "Be happy that I'll be the Demonear pushing through! Don't focus on the bad that could be!"
"I'm happy, idiot!" he furrowed his brows. "I already saw a nahi and that's halfway to my j-joys. Pity we didn't think through before it fell."
"That was your idea." Morio squinted.
As the soup started boiling, Jyuzou covered the fire with a cloth, letting it smoulder. The two started eating from the same bowl, with two wooden spoons.
"I remembered a story that might interest you," Jyuzou said, smiling. "Mr Bancho told me about these mountains, not too far away from Mistwick. He used them as training grounds for a Demonear back in the day. You know, jumping around spiky rocks... using the environment to both's advantage..."
"Ooh!"
"He said that um... if you wanted to, the two of you could go there." Jyuzou scratched his head. "I didn't mean to spoil the surprise, but since we're here, then-"
"Where is that?" Morio's eyes shone.
"Lockum Mountains?"
"Lockum? Oh," Morio shook his head. "We won't be passing through Lockum, Jyuzou. That's nowhere near our destination."
"Huh."
"Is there a plant you wanted to see there?" Morio winked.
"No, not really. I thought it might be interesting for you, though. Since you know. You're keener on becoming a Demonear than me-"
All of a sudden, Morio grabbed Jyuzou by his shoulder, essentially hugging him. He looked at the sky. "Aww!"
"Ghh..."
"It's okay, Jyuzou!" he raised his voice. "Stepping out of Mistwick means I'm already seeing things I only heard about! Some Lockum Mountains won't change that. We'll get there some other time!"
"You and Mr Bancho," Jyuzou muttered.
"You too," he pointed. "You're already there with me for the entire journey, so you're obliged."
Jyuzou rolled his eyes. "Fine."
"Yay!" Morio clapped his hands. "Thank you for sticking with me so far, hehe!"
"Even though we barely speak when travelling?"
"It's not about that." Morio waved his hand. "What if you weren't there if something happened? What if I or you fell off that mountain, huh? Death, immediate death. But no! Just knowing that someone's there-"
"It's c-comforting," Jyuzou added, grinning.
"Exactly!" Morio pointed.
"Not sure if I'd be able to see Shimori's plants without you as well. Even though you don't like hearing about them. At least I can always rely on someone to shake that tree with me."
"See? You can be nice if you try."
"Shut up, Morio..."
"Back to you, glassy idiot!"
***
After they finished their meal, the two climbed inside the tent, sleeping until the morning sun shone through the gaps in its entrance.
They gathered everything they had, stuffing it into their backpacks, and with a reassuring look at the clear skies, the two set out to Wendigo. If there were no interruptions on their way there, they'd make it on the next day, and that's what was expected.
They had already kept up a pretty good pace, and the road there wasn't as mountainous as it had been. They trod down Mistigo, much faster than the other way around, finding themselves in an unnamed forest that stretched for at least twenty kilometres, without much of a change in the landscape.
Tall, dark trees, and not a human on this earth could reach their leaves. If one were so dedicated, they could easily climb its branches, but there was no reason to. There were many bushes with Shato seeds, much sourer than Metho, and occasionally, there would be a few Bullions hidden in between the thick and snowy leaves.
For a moment, the white-haired considered dubbing the forest, suggesting "Mozou Forest" or "Demonear Forest." Jyuzou dismissed the idea, almost laughing in his face, and the topic was dropped for about an hour. Then, Jyuzou struck with the name "Bullion Forest," since that's where the seed could be found. Morio reacted with a loud groan, and the two decided not to talk about that anymore.
Instead, the other often sat down and either read about the things he saw or noted some interesting facts he had learnt. He even instructed Morio to mark it on the blank sheet of paper, but Morio refused to do so. Most of the time, he spent looking around. It seemed like everywhere he turned his eyes, he'd be greeted with the same thing.
The woods, extending far into the distance broken by rivers flowing in the middle. As for light, it was replaced with a light blue, combined with the bronze of the woods. It felt like, at any moment, something might pop up. A centura, or a goblin, even if they were more commonly spotted near the exits of Cirim and Mirillis.
They were pesky creatures, born from the desire to steal and obtain this world's treasures. They couldn't speak the common Toric or Manjuno, and most of them focused on the primary objective at hand. Goblins were also often compared to mirillians, the other cave-dwelling race, though the latter would take great offence to that comparison. Maybe there were stories which changed perspective, but not loud enough for them to matter.
They were feared by most and a nuisance to some. It was one of the many uneasy thoughts the two considered, but despite such, they weren't alone. Many animals slept in the snow. They didn't view Morio and Jyuzou as threats, but rather, as curious visitors.
The barks grew shorter with each heavy step. The monotony ended, and the landscape started tilting upwards. Morio and Jyuzou started reaching the crowns, trees twice their height, and the sky was now barely visible, obstructed by the earlier crowns. Peeking through some of the leaves, they spotted a slope moving downwards.
Morio stuck his hand out, trying to feel the cold breeze of the air; however, he was greeted with something else. He felt a slight pinch on his finger.
"It's snowing," Morio spotted the distant darkened clouds which covered the orange sky.
"It doesn't look that bad," Jyuzou suggested.
"I'm not sure," the other replied. "It must've been snowing beforehand, but we couldn't see it."
"Well, we won't be going back into that forest." Jyuzou continued, stuffing a Bullion seed into his pocket. "Nothing interesting there."
"If it starts hailing, we'll have to," Morio announced as the two continued their march. Jyuzou sighed loudly at the thought. "Or, if we're quicker, the Whiterobe could be a good alternative!"
Jyuzou shook his head. "Whiterobe isn't any safer either."
"Don't focus on the bad that could happen!" Morio raised a finger.
"Alright, I get it!" Jyuzou fixed his glasses.
The trees led down a path into a different forest, which from above resembled another patch of snow. The two stared at the extending horizon, and the sleet slowly fell onto their hair. They couldn't waste time, so they headed down the steep, rocky path, following into the Whiterobe Forest.
Such was known for barks which twisted and spun like the horns of certain demons. Some grew out of the ground, some into it. It resembled a white maze that could only be passed through by morians, as they were the only ones who could navigate its paths, and if, for some reason, one would get stuck in between the branches on the ground, they'd have to wait and hope that nothing dangerous approached. The trees would let go as if they were nothing but a warning.
Its leaves were pure white; even in other seasons, they'd remain the same colour. They hung from the branches, obscuring one's vision, and if it was snowing that day... well, good luck trying to navigate through that windy fog.
There was once a group of five paladians, presumably a family from Wendigo, trying to make their way through the mazes. Two were unfortunately found dead the next morning, and the others were shaken and frozen up somewhere at the edge. It could've been a demon's attack or something else that used the area's dangers to its advantage.
...and that was exactly what Morio and Jyuzou were afraid of. For long moments, they had to make sure they were not putting their foot into the unknown. As time passed, there was more and more sleet flying around the place, hitting their faces, jabbing their clothes, and creating a heavy wind that was fortunately stopped by trees.
The night was now in its full swing as well. Much time was wasted, and Morio swore he could see the setting sun somewhere in the far distance.
At this point, there was no going back. They still had kilometres to pass through, but before that, stood a massive, open field that quickly turned into these big walls of impenetrable snow. Each step they took slowed them down, and the hailing sleet wasn't of any help, as one could've guessed.
At first, they could barely take their hands out of the drifts, then, they couldn't even raise their heads to search for the road.
Jyuzou grabbed Morio's shoulder.
"This is pointless!" he shouted, amidst the howling winds. "We'll get buried in the snow!"
Morio put his cloak together, covering his entire body. "We can't go back!" he yelled, climbing to a wall. He lay his torso on it, trying to make something out in the distance.
In the dark sky, something started taking shape. Each tiny snowflake coloured what resembled a very sharp and tilted, rocky hill. "Titled Hill!" Morio pointed. "We'll sleep there for the night!"
"It's too far, Morio!"
"There's a path by the forest that's still clear! Quick!"
***
Jyuzou coughed as he and Morio stepped inside what looked like a small dent in the stone.
Morio touched around the wall behind him before finding an open hole. He ground his teeth, squeezing through. "Jyuzou! My backpack!"
Jyuzou threw the morian's things inside, then his, and followed Morio. He breathed out, feeling shivers down his spine, followed by the sound of water dripping, opposing the muffled hails.
"It's dark."
"Matches!"
"Do you think a fire will light up this entire area? It's a waste of resources!"
Suddenly, Morio banged Jyuzou's head with what resembled an unlit torch he found on the ground.
Jyuzou fixed his glasses before lighting it up, and Morio snatched it from his hand.
Morio nodded, and the two started walking through the tight corridor in the front.
"What is this place?" Jyuzou asked.
"No clue."
"You seemed to know its name."
"If I made a map, of course, I'd know its name." Morio shook his head. "Besides identifying it, no clue what else it's supposed to hide."
"Things are named for a reason. It's bound to have something inside." Jyuzou raised his finger, and Morio did the same, mocking him.
The two quickly exchanged small, non-brutal hits before moving on.
The corridor grew wider, with a crack in the ceiling, revealing the falling snow. Some of it fell inside, almost illuminating the next room. Above its entrance, stood a shining, blue sign etched into the rock.
"I can't read old Manjuno," Jyuzou muttered. "Morio, take a look at this."
"WOOO!" The other yelled out in excitement, and his voice echoed from the next chamber.
Jyuzou hurriedly walked in, as his eyes shrank.
Before them stood a flight of stairs, some broken, and upon walking up, they spotted a long, overgrown, square-like flooring, which led to a path carved into the rocks. Above that stood a massive arch, cut off, with more pillars standing on the sides, and an inside, full of spiky columns and a sealed-off, door-like entrance in the back. Overhead grew a natural rock formation, coated with stairs that led to the outside.
"It's a temple!" Morio exclaimed. "Oh, how cool!"
"A temple?" Jyuzou was confused.
"Haven't you heard?! Mr Bancho told us at least three stories about strong demons sacrificing something to create an obelisk. Half of their power went into a shining orb in the middle, but in turn, they couldn't be killed if it still gleamed!"
"Is this really a safe place to sleep in for the night?" Jyuzou asked, coughing again.
"Sure it is! It's absolutely wrecked!" Morio walked around. "No demon would be interested in ever reminding themselves of what strength they once had! Haha! Morian power!"
Jyuzou sighed. "I trust your judgment," he pointed out. "But if something happens and we end up dead, I'm killing you!"
"Even after we're dead?" Morio asked.
"EXACTLY!"
Morio waved. "We can always go back out into that snow."
Jyuzou's brow twitched. "We'll sleep here, actually."
***
The two climbed up the rock formation. In general, morians slept on higher steps, since the ground tends to get cold. In almost all the houses in Shimori, the beds sort of hung from the ceiling.
Of course, there were a few exceptions. Bancho preferred to stay near the ground, for whatever reason, and the morians in Wendigo followed the more normal approach of the paladians.
In this case, it wouldn't matter where the two would sleep. The entire rock was cold, but one could think it was a force of habit.
After an hour, Morio started twitching lightly. His body trembled, and he opened his eyes, feeling a numb pain in his head. He turned to Jyuzou, fast asleep, still wearing his glasses. He snored loudly, as Morio covered his ears.
He crawled towards the edge of the formation, looking down at the temple. His eyes shone, and he gulped.
All of a sudden, a loud growl could be heard, coming from below.
Morio froze, as Jyuzou scaredly woke up, sneaking scared glances at the other morian.
"What's-"
Morio shushed him, and another growl echoed, followed by heavy footsteps, which slowly reached the temple's chamber.
"Morio?"
The demon's horn could be seen from above. Twisting inside, followed by its sharp nails landing on the outer edge of the entryway.
It groaned as if in pain, and then its entire body found itself just a few metres away from the morians.
"Shin!"
Morio stood up, grabbing Jyuzou by his sleeve, sprinting towards the stairs leading to the cold, snowy outside.
Before them stood an altar, completely covered in the white puff. Morio looked around, panicking.
"What do we do?!" Jyuzou yelled out. "There's no way out of here!"
The demon started climbing the formation, grabbing onto its sides, instead of taking the stairs. It edged closer, sniffing the backpacks left by Morio and Jyuzou. It looked up before leaping and making the entirety of the Tilted Hill tremble.
Morio and Jyuzou hid behind the broken pillars. The demon trod, taking one big step after another, growling, searching.
Morio breathed heavily, while Jyuzou kept shaking and closed his eyes, covering his face.
The demon stopped in front of the pillar.
Morio could feel its fiery warmth nearby, as it inched closer with every moment. A cold sweat rolled down his face.
A sharp claw sought blindly, reaching out towards Morio, almost touching his face.
The snow fell on their cheeks, as Jyuzou's eyes widened before he glanced at the other morian.
Morio put his hand on the sheath, ready to take his sword out, despite knowing it wouldn't help.
Jyuzou closed his eyes, gulping, before putting his shaky fist into the pouch and grabbing all the Metho, Shato and Bullion seeds he had.
He ground his teeth and chucked them elsewhere, as they disappeared into the fog.
The demon turned, with its elongated jaw searching for the moment. Its blind eyes sought, and eventually, it flailed forward, jumping out of the altar, and leaving a dent in the rocks.
Morio slowly stood up, breathing in and out. He put his hands on the pillar and closed his eyes. "Damn it..." he huffed. "It was just hungry?"
Jyuzou followed after, slowly moving. "Shin..." he said, putting his hand on his forehead.
Morio stepped around the altar, looking up at the sharp rocks above, then at the surrounding formations: a big stone circle, with a pedestal in the middle, comprised of two smaller pillars and the cracked cobble.
"We need to be more careful next time," Jyuzou added, gulping. "We almost got ourselves killed just now," he turned, grinding his teeth and looking into Morio's shaky eyes. "This isn't Mistwick, Morio."
"I k-know, Jyuzou,"
The other morian put his hand on his forehead, breathing out, stepping around nervously.
"I'm sorry." Morio looked down. "I don't know if it was the dangers of the Tilted Hill or whatever. Maybe I should've listened to you back then and waited out in the other forest," he shook his head. "I won't make that mistake again, p-promise!"
He looked up, and all of a sudden, Jyuzou almost ran in for a tight hug. Morio trembled, clenching his jaw, but in the end, both could agree.
They were glad to have made it.
Morio glanced at the Victis sword, resting in its sheath and then took a deep breath, putting his other hand over Jyuzou's.
The two ventured into the small cave again, cleared some of the snow off their faces and decided to wait for a while, eating some of the leftover food. One would look down at the temple and listen, making sure nothing came. The other, up towards the altar. The wind picked up again, making loud, whistling noises. After the sun started rising in the distance, the two glanced at each other and firmly agreed to call it a night.
This time, they were safe.
Perhaps the demon sought refuge, finding itself out in the snow. That's what Jyuzou thought, for a moment, but at the same time, it seemed to have been chased off by the seeds he threw. Morio continuously tried to convince himself that it was just hunger, but Jyuzou added that he had heard here and there that demons rarely ever eat anything.
They didn't seem to know much about the world, as of now.