The Frostweaver sat prodding the flames with a wooden stick. A stick, no doubt he had collected from down the Mantle, as there was no wood up on this frozen wasteland.

Meera hesitated a moment. It wasn't like she couldn't take this man on, but the fact that he sat with an open fire unnerved her. She used a fiery skill for half a breath, and she had been set upon by an undying monster.

And she would be lying if her confidence hadn't been rocked by the Glacidrak. She didn't think she would be so utterly outclassed, even if she had two hundred levels on it. She had fought and almost killed dragons that had two hundred levels on her.

Curiosity won her over, so, with no other option, Meera made her way to him.

"Ah, you're finally here," said a familiar voice. "I've been waiting for you."

The man turned his head, and it was none other than Lainor.

"You?" Meera exclaimed. His looks hadn't changed much from the last time she had him, save for the fact that he was back in his original body now. He had raven black hair and a new scar that traveled from under his left eye down to his neatly trimmed beard. He wore a neat white shirt and pants as if the cold didn't bother him at all. Though he had a black leather glove on his left hand, and only his left hand.

That's odd.

He smiled. "You look rather cold. Join me at the fire. I knew you would come back soon enough."

She frowned. "How did you know I was here?"

"From the Glacidrak, of course," he said. "They're a little invention of the Hierarch. Anyone who wishes to traverse the White Ember must ask for his permission and pay tribute to His Eminence."

"Why so?"

"Because these are our lands," he replied. "I mean, the Cult's lands. But we'll have more than enough time to talk about that. Why didn't you sit? You look like you're about to freeze to death. We can't have the Champion's sister die in some frozen wasteland, now, can we?"

Meera stayed where she was and surveyed the surroundings for traps.

"Relax, Meera, I couldn't even harm you if I wanted to," Lainor said. "I remember your warning very well."

The last time she had seen Lainor, she had warned him that if he were still with the Cult, she would consider him an enemy and deal with him accordingly. But now, he had fire, and she was freezing.

There couldn't be any harm in sitting by the fire, and I'm still much stronger than him.

Her confidence had been rocked by the Glacidrak. She remembered that she had dealt with the cultists without any problem at all. Lainor was just another cultist, and she could deal with him easily if she wanted.

"I'm coming, but if you try anything…" She trailed off.

He raised his hands. "I still remember how you treated my brothers and sisters back in the forest. I'd be stupid to try anything. I'm just here to talk."

Meera eyed the ice hut. "Drop the hut, and we can talk."

Lainor shrugged and waved down. The hut flattened into the glacier. There was no one inside. Meera flew over to the fire. The warmth enveloped her, and it felt so good, like pure ecstasy. It was as if she had never been warm in her life.

She willed the armor away from her hands, and just as she expected, two of her fingers on each hand turned black from frostbite. She figured her feet were the same. She activated Greater Vitalize, and slowly, the frostbite began to recede. Color, warmth, and feeling returned to her appendages.

She pulled the armor back from her face and sighed contently.

"That is a neat trick," Lainor said, pointing to her hands. "Most people have to hack off their limbs when they get frostbite."

Meera shrugged. "Guess I'm not like most people."

"Oh, I know that," he said, knowingly. "Not everyone can lower their levels. I thought levels only went in one direction."

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Meera didn't skip a beat. "Told you, I'm not like most people."

Internally, she kicked herself for not changing her levels back, but she made a note of it for next time to not raise any questions that might lead to things being discovered that she didn't want to be discovered—namely her skill stealing ability.

"So, I see you survived, Gethys," Meera commented. "Your brothers weren't so lucky."

He smiled. "Yes, unlike my brothers, I didn't make the mistake of going against you."

There was a strange easiness behind his words and demeanor. He had seen her kill many of his fellow cultists. By all accounts, he should be scared of her. But instead, he was sitting here, talking to her as if they were old friends.

"You have two minutes before I jump off the cliff," she said.

"Oh, then I'll be quick about it. After your massacre of my brothers and sisters, the Hierarch wasn't too happy."

"It was not just me," She interrupted. "I only killed a few of them, namely your Elder and his son. The daughters of Aksha cleaned up the rest. Aksha wasn't particularly happy that your people stole the Gateway Mirror."

He raised his hands. "I had nothing to do with that. I was being tortured at that time, remember."

Meera noticed that he was wearing a glove on his left hand but not his right. It was odd, but she didn't think much of it.

Lainor continued. "You know, I was the only cultist that returned from the expedition from Gethys. Everyone else perished. Well, I must thank Elder Sidrian for leaving my body intact back at the camp. If not for that, I wouldn't have come back to inform His Eminence of the expedition's failure..."

"Fascinating story," Meera said. "But you've taken me for someone who cares. You served me up to Tigris. If you were starving to death and I was the only one in the world left with some food, I would feed it to a fat dog."

He gave her an amused smile. "Wow, well, I guess I deserve that."

"And that's all the time you had." Meera stood to leave.

"But you haven't even heard the best part," Lainor said. "I want you to help me kill the Hierarch."

Meera paused. "What?"

"You heard me correctly," he replied. He extended his gloved hand towards the flames, and they seemed to burn even more brightly.

"But why?" She asked. "Isn't he your leader?"

"He is, and there was a time I would've given my life in a heartbeat for him. But he's proven that he isn't worthy of such devotion." His voice hardened, and his expression darkened. Rage flickered on his face. "Do you know what happened when I returned to my body? When Aksha melted my arm and leg with her poison, she must've taken a piece of my soul. When I returned to my body, the limbs that she had destroyed didn't work."

"What? How?" Meera asked, intrigued.

Lainor shook his head. "No one knows. All the healers back at the spire couldn't figure it out. My body was perfectly fine, but my arm and leg were just dead weight. And so, seeing as I was nothing more than a cripple, my dear Hierarch, the back-stabbing Elrasil threw me to the dogs. He tried to have me killed, but I found someone, a healer. He mended my body and only wanted one thing as payment—Elrasil's death."

"And why do you need my help?" She asked.

"Because he's got the entire Cult, and I'm not strong enough to take them on," Lainor said. "When the Glacidrak's shardlings reported that they were fighting a warrior in gold and black, I knew it was you. I requested to go deal with the intruder, and lo and behold, I was right."

"And what if I say no? What if I don't want to help you get your revenge."

"He's not done with you, Meera. I can confirm that. Even now, the Elders are making plans on how to take you out. They know you're in the Varsha empire and staying at the God King's palace. They're figuring out a way to get someone inside and take you out. If it were anyone else here in my place, they would've signaled the Cult by now, and this cliff would've been swarming by people who want your death. Maybe the Elder himself would've come himself. And trust me, you're not strong enough to take him on…not by yourself, at least."

Meera squinted. "Why do you even have that monster up here in the first place?"

"The Winter Spire, the Cult's home, is built into what people call the Pale Mantle. Its ice walls are etched with magical runes that make them nigh impregnable. However, there is no protection from the White Ember itself. Anyone could scale the Mantle and come down upon us from the top. To combat this, Elrasil created Glacidrak. A monster that can split itself into a dozen pieces and reigns supreme here. All one needs to do is light a simple match in the White Ember, and it will wake and not stop hunting you until you are mush."

Her eyes widened. "Then, it's still after me…"

He nodded. "Though you fly too fast for it. Even if it does travel beneath the ice, it should be here soon. Only a member of the Cult can hold it off. Say, why were you traveling south? There's no civilization, no single living being save for…" His eyes widened in realization. "The Warlocks? Why are you seeking them?"

"That is not your concern."

"Fair enough." He raised his hands. "So, what do you say? Will you help me kill our common enemy? I get my revenge, and you get a powerful enemy off your back."

Right then, the ice cracked behind Meera. She turned just in time to see the ice monster rise like a living block of ice. Before Meera could return to their dance of death, Lainor spoke.

"Stop!" He ordered. "Go to sleep."

The Glacidrak stopped in place. Blocks of ice fell into the icy floor, and the crack sealed itself, leaving nothing behind but a simple white line in the ice where it had risen from.

Lainor grinned at her. "Now, we're even. You saved me from Aksha's dungeons, and I saved you from the Glacidrak."

Meera huffed. "This still doesn't mean that I will help you."

"Maybe not now, but when the Cult's assassins come, will your decision change? I wonder…"

"We're done here," Meera stated calmly.

She walked to the edge of the cliff and jumped off.

"If you change your mind, come to the village where you last took shelter and ask for Marid," he said in a normal tone as if she were standing next to him. Somehow, he knew that she would hear him.

Just what has happened to him.

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