(( @ask-cerus continued from x ))
He had been through blizzards before, though he was definitely not accustomed to them-nor did he much like them, either, for that matter. This one, however, had come out of nowhere, leaving Cerus very little time to prepare- not that there was much he could do, really, admittedly.
There was no shelter to be found, so he could only press on as he had been doing since the storm had found him. There was no shelter to be found, so it was a good thing he didn’t really tire or need much sleep; he had a feeling that, even if he did find a spot out of the snow,somehow and somewhere, falling asleep in this cold might well be the very last thing anyone did.
He blinked when he saw the figure standing in the snow a short distance from him, stopping in his tracks as he regarded it. He wasn’t given to hallucinations, to be sure, but the light and snow could play tricks with a man’s perception out here.
But no, there was a young man standing there, in the storm, waving at him before turning away. An invitation to follow, the gesture wasn’t lost on the prince. Follow where, he thought as he watched the other walk away for a few moments.
He decided to risk it. If there was trouble coming, he could handle it, he figured. And if the young man was, in fact, offering help, well, then, he couldn’t say it wasn’t welcome.
They walked for a few long moments in silence, the boy always staying just barely in sight ahead. It was difficult to tell where they were going - in this weather, it would have been easy to unwittingly stumble into cliffs or steep slopes. Milo knew where he was going, though, and the path he had chosen seemed to be a safe one. He didn’t glance back at the stranger once - he didn’t need to, to know he was following.
Ahead of them, a dark shape appeared through the snow. At first glance it might have seemed to be a natural rock formation, but as they drew nearer the shape became clearer. A large building of intricate arches and turrets cut from grey stone, blanketed in snow. Milo made his way carefully up the icy steps to the large wooden door, inscribed with symbols from an unfamiliar language and images that couldn’t quite be made out through the frost. He had to lean his entire weight against the door to open it, but a moment later it swung open with a creak.
The entry hall inside was dark save for some unseen light source high in the vaulted ceiling, casting a gentle blue glow across the walls. As soon as the stranger had entered Milo pushed the door closed again, lowering the heavy latch. It was still cold in the drafty stone hall, but just being out of the wind was quite a relief. The boy brushed snow from his clothes and hair, regarding the man with a silent, curious stare.
