8 VII

The rest of the night went by fairly quietly. Calef didn't make any objections to Greyson's offer to pay of the debt entirely. He did make a condition that he couldn't pay the debt until it was close to the deadline. Greyson reluctantly agreed, then gave Calef a small chest with some coin in it.

"You can use this instead of stealing to get what you need. And don't worry about needing to work it off or repaying me. It just sits in my personal treasury that my parents insist that I have. I have no use for it."

"But-"

"But nothing, Calef. That is my verdict. This is a gift, not a loan. You need it more than I do. Since I sure as hell ain't going to be spending any of this money, I should make sure it gets put to good use."

Calef sighed. "Fine. I'll take it. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Calef."

After dinner and a little while of small talk, Greyson decided that it was finally time to make his way back home.

After getting all else he needed for the ride home, Greyson saddled up and made sure he had adequate cover. He and Calef could see their own breath, and the wind was kicking up terribly.

"Greyson?" Calef reached out, but stopped just short of physical contact.

Greyson looked at Calef expectantly, as is waiting to hear a message escape his lips. "Yeah?"

"I had fun tonight. Thank you."

Greyson smiled. "You're very much welcome."

With that, the son of Eurubus rode off into the darkness.

The cold seemed to swallow Greyson up whole. It didn't matter that he had the thickest layers on, only that Mother Nature wanted the young Fallheart to feel the frigid weather that had fallen over the land. Winter wasn't but another three months off, so... what was up with the icy wind?

He felt his body begin to shudder and shake in the premature cool. His breath crystalized before his very eyes. He craved so much to be indoors, beside a fire. He caught himself wishing he never left Calef's home. Shaking the absurd notion from his mind, he focused on the need to get home. There wasn't much else to do at this point. He pushed Tarrok on forward.

The cold continued to assault him. It thrashed at his face and gnawed at his glovef hands. Never had any winter been this bad in the Avalon area. Greyson reckoned this might be the worst winter in a long, long time, if not ever.

Something in Greyson's body lurched. It was faint at first, but then the involuntary movement caused Greyson to jerk forward. Shit, the weather has to be getting to me bad. I've got to find shelter somewhere in town if I want to make it through the night at all.

Greyson spurred Tarrok further. The horse obeyed Greyson's command and began moving at a dead sprint. The freezing air bashed against Greyson's body much more ruthlessly than before. This time, Greyson jerked so hard that he fell off Tarrok, who left the boy behind out of sheer unawareness.

"Damn it. Well, looks like I'll have to take the rest of the trip on foot before I freeze to death out here." he muttered to no one in particular.

Greyson still pressed forward. Jerking here and there in the cold. His appendages felt numb and he could barely think coherent thoughts. His one mission now: get somewhere warm. Town shouldn't be too far now. He recognized what layout of the land his eyes let him register. His blade still in its scabbard and his hand on the hilt, he remained as ready as he could in case someone or something should attempt to take advantage of his misfortune and vulnerability.

His strength gradually waned, even in his most stubborn mindset. Struggling against the wind, retaining his willpower, keeping aware of his surroundings. It all took a toll on him.

He broke.

Stumbling in the freshly fallen snow, he trembled and seized with frightening ferocity. Town was nowhere to be seen and he had dire need of a healer. His stomach burned with seething pain as Greyson spilled his half-digested supper in the snow. It wasn't long until his whole body gave in and his senses faded away entirely, leaving his conscious mind to perceive nothing but a black void and a single thought.

Calef.

Helena watched the storm brew from her quarters. Cadeceus have the report. Greyson had not yet returned to the manor and he hadn't given an estimated time for his return. She let out an exasperated sigh. She had to get it through his thick head that discipline was important and that meant upholding the standard set before him by his predecessors. Greyson's grandfather was a powerful man whose authority went unchallenged. So had the authority of Eurubus and herself. If Greyson just went around doing whatever the bloody hell his whim told him to do, there would be no way he'd ever be able to properly wield the mantle that was coming to him. He'd squander it and destroy the family dynasty.

That simply could not be allowed. Self-mitigation and restraint had to be taught to him. And she'd have to do it before his coming of age, else there would be no undoing the damage he'd been inadvertently causing.

"My lady, I'm afraid I have some bad news."

"What is it, Cadeceus?"

"Tarrok has returned to the stable."

"And? What of it?" Helena snapped.

"Greyson was not with him. He's nowhere to be found. He may be lost in the storm."

Helena stood, speechless. Greyson... out there in the worst of the harsh conditions.

"Then... only Lupus can save my son."

Greyson could no longer feel the cold. Nor could the wind touch him. He could see his clothes in front of him, torn to near oblivion, but he could not put them in proper context. He saw them, but his mind made no connection. The only thing that made any shred of sense was a single notion.

Calef.

Greyson held on to this single idea with every fiber of his being. Every morsel of his soul. He tied everything he was to this single idea and became one with it.

Calef.

He allowed his body to do all the work. He gave his body permission to do whatever it took to stay alive so that he could fulfil his task.

Calef.

He pushed forward and refused to look back. He had something to attend to.