The early light of morning sipped through the narrow window and slowly roused him. For a moment Arn had forgotten where he was; he rubbed his eyes and smiled at the worn looking ceiling above. His bliss washed away with the memories of yesterday's bizzare ceremony at the Great Hall. “No, it's too early to think about this,” he mumbled and sat up. He stretched his arms and yawned, some tea would do just fine, he thought. The morning’s wakeup call came as he reviewed the inspection papers. I must have woken up early, he thought. Concentration didn't come easy and after rereading the same line several times without understanding it he decided to get breakfast.

Arn sat at one of the available booths of the ground floor tavern and waited for the serving girl. He repeated yesterday’s events in his mind, making sure to remember enough for the report. While he was deep in thoughts, a man sat down across from him. Arn flinched and stared at the strange man, he looked familiar, and Arn soon recognized him as the one who tapped his fork on the plate yesterday. The man had several days’ worth of stubble, though Arn was almost certain that he was clean shaven last night.

“A fresh one, aren't you?” The man said. His eyes darted all around and he shifted from side to side and kept scratching himself. "You're here already, so it's time,” he smiled broadly - Arn noted a set of unusually bright white teeth that didn’t at all match his otherwise appearance.

“A fresh what?” Arn asked “who are you?”

The man giggled and rocked back and forth “De’al am I, that is my name and I've got a mind to leave, but I can't. You should leave, but you won't leave yet. So, leave next.”

“Leave next? What? Are you talking about leaving Kalarhan?”

“C’mon now,” the man leaned in and smiled, then his face became serious. “You see the chill around his place,” his eyes widened, and he looked around nervously. He hugged himself and shivered “I saw,” he smiled and flashed his eyebrows “yesterday - I waited, and I saw”.

“Who's place?" Arn asked.

“Haha…” the man threw back his head. “I can see” he leaned in again and pointed at his eyes “I can see the chill," he grinned. "You saw it too," he then seemed confused, "not true yet, but soon."

What is this man talking about? Arn looked out of the booth, the serving girls darted all around and seemed to avoid the two of them. "You said 'his place', whose place?"

The man laughed, then shushed himself “don't ask me about them, not what happens to them - no no, don't ask yet!” Then he shushed Arn with a finger to his own lips, "they can hear you, so don't ask who's place - later!"

Arn shivered. His heart pounded in his chest. What was he feeling, not fear exactly though the feeling was heavy and opaque, dragging him down to the ground. The man was clearly unwell, he must be unwell. "Can you leave? Please leave - why are you talking to me?" he said to the stranger.

"Can I leave?" De'al mused. "Maybe! Probably - well, no, no I can't leave. But I must go now. Don't see me at the dinner tonight - don't see the others either," he leaned in again and put a finger to his own lips, "they will see you if you see them" he whispered and scurried off.

Moments later the serving girl came by for his order. Arn asked her about the man - De'al - but she didn't know who he meant and assured him that since Arn sat down a few moments ago no one came to his booth.

"But I just had the strangest talk - "

"Your order please," she interrupted.

"You really didn't see anyone?" he asked. The girl stared at him impatiently. "Fine, here is my token," he showed her the scholar's token, she quickly tapped it with her hand, rolled her eyes and left in a hurry.

After he finished eating, Arn spotted Rana - she chatted with the barkeep who looked at a loss; trying to shake her off and deal with the many orders and requests coming in every minute. The barkeep noticed Arn and smiled broadly - he tapped Rana’s shoulder and pointed in Arn’s direction.

“Good morning Arn, I hope you’ve had a good night’s sleep." she beamed.

“I did, thank you - did you?" he said.

Rana smiled, nodded, and motioned towards the door. They took the same path as yesterday, only it seemed shorter this time. The day was sunny and everything was bathed in the warm glow of the sun’s rays. In this light the town seemed almost normal - the gloom that permeated it earlier was barely noticeable once again and he wondered whether it was the light of day or Rana’s presence that made the difference. They spent the rest of the day finishing with the pile of unsorted books from yesterday - Rana seemed a tad distant but Arn wasn’t sure whether that was unusual since he’d only met here days ago. They did manage to finish all the sorting and he was curious about tomorrow’s task. Rana wouldn’t divulge - “it’s a surprise” she said. The dinner ceremony went smoother today. A different member of the small council took the lead and - a woman this time - was quite at ease with an almost excessive number of chants and rituals.

Arn ate his fill and let his guard down. The mood at the great hall was almost cheerful - not quite, but almost. It was lively at any rate. He finished all the food and drink - briefly wondering about the missing scholars at his table and considering De'al’s words.

Walking back to the inn Arn looked over his shoulder often. The stars did little to illuminate the empty narrow streets. He wondered where everyone was, the streets were empty, but half the town had just left the Great Hall. Arn jumped from every sound the entire way back - the little light that did fall upon the streets almost made things worse, it flickered and cast long ominous shadows everywhere he looked.

Do stars flicker? Why are they flickering? Arn thought as he stared all around himself. Were these stars that flickered, was he certain that the flickering was caused by the stars? Then, as if to round out the experience, the wind picked up and speared Arn with it’s cold needles. Each gust sent shivers through his body as he half ran, hugging himself to try and keep the warmth. When he finally entered the Scholar’s Inn - which was also dark and nearly empty - save for the barkeep who gave him the stink eye, Arn felt a great sense of relief. Finally indoors, and close to a bed, he hastily made his way to his room, dropped his clothes on the floor and climbed under the covers.

There was snow under his feet, a peaceful silence lay all around him. A large, winged shadow passed above, he thought it looked like a large bird with an unusual body. He prepared for fear, but it didn't come - the shadow felt natural, as natural as the snow on the ground. He looked behind him at a large oak, its leaves were green and covered by snow - that's strange - he thought. Ravens sat on its branches, more than he'd ever seen before. He tried to count them but each time he focused on one it was no longer there; he could only see them out of the corner of his eye. He watched the tree and realised that all the ravens were gone, he frowned and looked about. Nowhere to be seen. The oak was gone too, replaced by countless grey evergreens that stretched in all directions.

The forest was very quiet. He watched a single snowflake descend leisurely before him. Arn looked up and saw many more falling from the grey starry sky above. They all fell straight down, untouched by the wind, but very slowly. Arn stretched out his hand and a snowflake landed on it. It didn’t melt. It just sat there, like a tiny feather, or a speck of dust. He looked at its unmelting form and its intricate structure. His emotions seemed distant and delayed, instead he felt as an observer with little stake in what he saw or felt.

Arn was awakened by a loud knock, he heard the call for breakfast and footsteps leaving his door. The forest and snow receded from his mind, fading into memory. He breathed in the warm dry air of his room and felt the sun's rays on his face. Just a dream, he thought, a very unusual one at that. Arn chose to forgo his tea this morning, he put on his clothes reluctantly and stumbled out of his room. I ate so much last night, yet I'm already hungry, he thought on the way down to the tavern. Rana would be here soon, better get breakfast before she's here. And then another day of archives awaits.

The next two weeks were much the same, though Arn became used to the waking time and was often fully alert by the breakfast call. He'd reinstated his morning tea and review of the inspection. It came along, slowly but surely. He gathered sufficient information between the dinner ceremonies and Rana's guided tours of the town. There still were a few unanswered questions, but he didn't overly concern himself with those. "Cross the frozen river when you get to it," Arn repeated his mother’s favourite saying.

He hadn't seen De'al since that strange encounter. None of the other scholars approached him, or even seemed interested in interacting with him at all. In fact most of the town kept to themselves and aside from Rana showed very little interest in him. They weren't rude, but none would call them welcoming. Arn didn't notice the absence of the breakfast call this morning until he was already out the door. The inn was quieter than usual, an uncomfortable stillness hung about the air. The tavern on the ground floor was emptier as well, few people broke their fast and the barkeep was serving food himself. What is this about, he wondered.

“Nice morning isn’t it” the barkeep said and put the usual breakfast on the table.

"A little quiet," Arn said, "you don't need my token?"

"Oh, I think we know each other well enough," the barkeep smiled "unless you've got a new one for me?"

"New one? No no, still the same token."

"That is well young sir," the barkeep said, "I better be going then, only myself here this morning, no time to chat."

Arn nodded and ate his breakfast. He kept glancing about himself at the nearly empty tavern, each sound of a dish or utensil drew his attention. What is the matter with me today? I better finish quickly and see Rana, maybe she'll know, he thought. Rana wasn't waiting for him at the entrance as he'd expected. Before he had a chance to consider his next move the barkeep came up.

"Arn, I believe, yes?" he said. After Arn nodded he continued "you should check with the stable boy, there seems to be some issue with your horse."

"I don't have a horse," Arn replied, perplexed.

"Oh really? Well that's a right pickle, isn't it. There is a horse there which belongs to you. I wonder how that happened?" the barkeep said.

"A horse which belongs to me? Are you certain?"

"Yes, quite. Well, suit yourself I suppose."

Curiosity got the better of Arn, "wait!" he said, "can you tell Rana - that's the woman I usually leave with - that I will be back shortly. If she arrives before me, that is."

"Rana - oh I believe I remember her. Yes, certainly!" The barkeep answered politely, then went back to his business.

What horse? I don't have a horse, Arn thought on the way to the small stables behind the Inn. What could this be about? Oh, I wonder whether it is the contact from the small council. I should have prepared the inspection already, I better not be in any trouble - it said six weeks, it's only been two.

The last thing Arn remembered was a sharp pain, and then he woke up tied up and gagged on the back of a horse. A thin cloth hood was draped over his head - it let in some light but not enough to make anything out. Laying on his stomach made breathing difficult, and the bobbing of the horse’s body didn’t help. Everything was spinning and became dark.