A small camp in the frozen wasteland hid from the picking up wind behind a frozen dome, too even to be natural. Inside of it, seven travelers rested as they could.
Seven travelers rested, even as their enemies went further and further away towards the Ice Flower. Cael tried not to dwell on it too much. Thankfully, he had other things to think about.
Niko laid on a bedroll, staring vacantly into space. Myrna sat next to him, quietly sewing his torn clothing. Luna cut vegetables for a stew with a combination of a sharp knife and small household spells. Mimi put tea leaves in the pot of boiling water floating over the magical campfire. Astnar stared down at everyone present, person after person, but mostly at Niko.
And Cael pulled a storage book out of his bag and stared down at it. The mana maelstrom—Niko's name for it was better than Cael's—rendered it unusable. Cael just hoped dearly that items inside were still salvageable.