Season of Winter, Day 48, 507 AV
Winter's chill was usually mild and easy against the city streets, by natural climate or grace of Ionu no one could say for sure. But Ionu had a sense of humor, and they'd let winter's claws dig deep into this city this day. When Kit had set out she'd thought herself safe with a warm cloak against the chill, but Ionu had played a trick on her by showing open blue skies and a bright and shining sun, and allowed her to see the billowing clouds and feel the harsh cold against her skin only in time for the snow to begin to fall.
It took bells of stubborn exploring before Kit admitted to herself that it was too cold as she wrapped her cloak tight around her little body, as wind rushed around her, sapped the warmth from her legs and exposed fingers and left her ears feeling ice-hard and ice-cold against the side of her head. She sought shelter, the winds rushing around her and stealing her warmth while snow fell from above in thick, steady sheets till little specks of white remained in her hair and about her shoulders and slowly piled up on the shifting streets of Alvadas around her.
Ionu helped their faithful, but sometimes they had a sense of a humor when they did. It wasn't long before Kit staggered headlong into a wall she couldn't see that sent her sprawling back on her ass, exposing her to the full onslaught of the cold as Kit looked up. By allowance of illusion, the snow left on the tops of the visible arches and buildings were left visible, and Kit saw in their outlines the image of the temple of Ionu. As a good a time to be devout as any, yeah? And besides, there would be warmth in there.
No longer bothering with the pretense of keeping out the cold, Kit made the run through the temple yard, cloak lashing in the wind behind her. Her clothes were like a quilt, woven together out of old shirts and blankets in a random, slapdash style plainly Alvad and plainly impractical for the cold. She pushed through the doors and found the interior of the temple quiet, and most importantly, warm.
Kit closed her eyes, looked toward the ceiling and sent Ionu a silent prayer of thanks for shelter. She shook off the snow from her shoulders and hair and wandered to the nearest brazier she could find, held her hands over the coals and flexed her fingers, willed them and the rest of her body to feel warm and pleasant again. "When I get older," Kit promised her god in the tired certainty of a child who doesn't know what impossible means, "I will bring you all the colors in the world."