The Cooldown

The two of them gazed out at the pillars of sand that had formed around The Mound. It had been a solid two hours of silence after they had woken up. Neither of them spoke to each other. Perhaps the howling wind that muted all other sounds had something to do with it, though given the fact that Durn had ignored all of Water's attempts to start a conversation, it might not after all.

Durn had gone back to whatever he had been doing. With the light coming back, and the storm abating, he was working again. Waters simply observed him from behind, trying to make sense of whatever Durn had tried to make. It clearly was a weapon of some sort, though if it was a weapon made by a mechanist, it surely was more creative than just a simple blunderbuss. But for all Waters could tell, that was what it was. A magic blunderbuss and nothing more. Surely a mechanist capable of handcrafting a Desert Trawler was making something more interesting.

The circuitry of it all was beyond him, but Waters could tell that Durn was disassembling it. His gauntlet, which appeared to be steam-powered, was practically scrapping most of it's innards. Occasionally a few seals would be replaced, a few connections made again. And on and on the process went.

An hour passed by. Waters could feel his hunger now. He hadn't eaten for how long- a day? Two days? Hell, he didn't know, but he had to put on a hell of an act to convince those bastards he'd taken along with him that food was limited. By rationing out the food, he would have enough to eat for the return journey as well. But it didn't look like he'd be returning to the Docks anytime soon now. He glanced about and walked over to his Kamel, opening up its saddle to pull out a pack of food.

Calling it food was really an exaggeration, but then again, only these sorts of dry sandy grains managed to survive in the desert. It was just a small amount of grains sealed within a glass sphere- popularly known as a Shatter, though Waters preferred to go by its brand name- 'The Nagelmacker' He glanced at Durn, who was still enthralled by whatever contraption he was trying to design. He grimaced at the mechanist's dedication to his work.

"Want a Nagelmacker?"

"You really are a noble aren't you?"

"Want a Shatter then?"

"Better, but I have a rather compounded hatred of anything out of the Docks."

"Huh. Well, what do you eat then?"

"Ever tried Sand Crab?"

"Isn't that the shit the Mercs tend to get kill requests for?"

"Yeah, 'that stuff'; it's rather delicious- a little too fine for your tastebuds perhaps, but you ought to try it sometime,"

"I'll pass. Never thought the day would come when I would be offered Sand Crab of all things."

"See- I told you you'd get used to working with me,"

"I don't think 'used to' is the term to use here,"

"You aren't getting paid to criticize me kid,"

"Actually I don't even know if I'm getting paid yet,"

"Who saved your life again?"

"Right Ho. So what're you working on? It's clearly not a blunderbuss- I mean which mechanist would make a blunderbuss? What is it- A weapon of mass destruction? Some form of magic-based illusion projection device? Perhaps a new form of teleportation based transport like what the Passfeld Corporation claims," Waters abruptly stopped as he saw Durn's grimace.

"Don't ever mention Passfeld. I've had enough shit go down with them before, and your curiosity doesn't help me get over it."

"Alright then. But I suppose you could tell me,"

"It's a Blunderbuss."

"Pardon?"

"It's a blunderbuss- what, are you deaf?"

Waters looked at Durn for a while. Then he stopped. Perhaps it was best not to converse with his employer after all. The storm continued to abate. It's fury lessened by the second, and the sun began to shine through. Waters whistled slowly; watching a dust storm dissipate never got old. As a noble, he had taste, and by all means it was a spectacular sight.

"First time seeing a storm go?"

"Nah, it just never gets old you know, it's spectacular,"

"Well, you best get ready, because it's about to get real damn cold,"

"I know what a Cooldown is damn it, this isn't my first storm."

"Well it's probably your first storm on The Mound isn't it?"

"Dust Storms are the same everywhere Durn, every idiot in the Desert knows that."

"Well not here at the mound" Durn replied, as he tossed Waters a crystal. "At The Mound the Cooldown is hell."

"This is a heating crystal, isn't it? You've refined a god-damn Black Pearl into a heating crystal? And what the hell is with the improvised rune work? This shit looks nastier then the chicken-scratch seals I buy out of a third rate black-market dealer. What- does the Cooldown turn into an ice storm over here or something?"

"Just wear it. And I'd advise you shut up, since unnecessarily breathing in the air doesn't end well." Waters hesitantly shoved the crystal into his pocket. It had been engraved with powerful magic, and the mana in the crystal powered whatever runes it had. With a Black Pearl of this size; with a diameter almost as large as his thumb, it probably produced enough heat to fuel a furnace. Given the unstable nature of it's runes he doubted whether it wouldn't explode before the runes got to work.

What had once been an immensely tall column of sand, had now settled down, slowly becoming a pile of dust. As the air began to become still again, Waters felt a slight breeze. He stared curiously as the wind traced straight lines into the sand as it was vacuumed out of the collapsing storm. As it buffeted against some of the remaining pillars of Sand, the collapse began to happen even faster. Even though the sun's glaring rays shone upon him, he could feel the air becoming colder. His breath fogged. And then the crystal came to life.

A small heat shield gathered around him. As the temperature rapidly fell, the crystals shield grew stronger. The sand underneath his feet crackled as it shattered from the intense cold. The breeze became a gale, and any water in the already dry air became ice. Streaks of white adorned the sand as if something had exploded above them, leaving its traces in the land surrounding the mound. Tiny droplets of freezing water drifted with the wind, forming a white mist of ice. He had seen this once before- an incredibly old picture among his father's Daguerreotypes. The pictures showed horrifying scenes of men, horses and machinery all frozen together. Some of the more unlucky members were almost melded together with the metal by the intense mana surges- an extremely unpleasant end. He remembered his earlier hesistance. Damn.

"Time to move," Durn declared. They trudged through the sand, Durn pulling along his hovering Trawler and holding in his hand his half-complete blunderbuss. Waters moved over to pick up his Crawlers, but his hand was held back. He looked at Durn questioningly.

"Only a decent Steamwerk works in this sort of cold. The Kamel maybe be outdated, but it's the very best the Steamwerks had to offer.The Crawlers are as good as dead." Waters opened his mouth to speak, but as the freezing air entered his mouth, he immediately shut up. He could feel the melting icicles that had cut his tongue for a second. Clearly, Durn had a better heat shield. And then it struck him. Durn had just called out his Trawler to be- a Steamwerk? But Trawlers were a modern invention; of Passfeld even. The original Steamwerks couldn't support a Trawler, especially not a model this large. Hell, nothing out of the Flame ages could support a Trawler this big. He almost opened his mouth again to ask Durn.

With a scowl upon his face, he grabbed his vintage Kamel and pulled it along. Hell, here he was, driving a fucking Kamel through an Ice storm in the middle of the desert. What the Fuck...