In Search of Affluence

[Alecros]

The sun was already setting to the east when Alecros and Swenson approached the mountain pass to Ilia. Two months had passed since Alecros first made landfall in Sacae.

He felt rather lethargic, but Alecros still felt a surge of energy deep inside of him. He was clearly eager to finally reach Ilia, as was Swenson.

Glancing at the mountain path, Alecros spoke between breaths. "Hah... this looks absurd. It's so steep... we can't even come close to traversing this thing. And if we don't die by falling to our deaths, we'll surely die of starvation."

Swenson assessed the path ahead of them. "Aye, but there's a way around it. Only problem is, we might risk being detected by Ilian mercenaries. They'll strike down any intruders that trespass."

Alecros inhaled deeply. "Well, you could've told me that before we left..."

Swenson dismissed Alecros's statement. "Don't worry. They're not very strong. They may wield blades, but even with your axe, which has a disadvantage against blades, you could easily defeat them. Trust me, I've been to Ilia more times than I can count."

Alecros swallowed. "Alright, I guess I can't contradict that..."

[Alecros]

With the mountain pass looming in front of them, Alecros and Swenson took their first steps into Ilia.

The climate was absolutely frigid, but the two warriors were relentless to the weather as they pressed onward.

-----

"So, this is Ilia, Swenson?" Alecros asked breathlessly. The two travelers were seated on rocks in the middle of the mountain pass.

"Aye, this is Ilia. It seems desolate now, but once we reach the populated areas, we'll find more towns and cities. Unfortunately, the weather is going to be like this for the remainder of the trip."

Swenson's words rang in Alecros's ears. "Alright, I guess we'd better get going."

[Alecros]

Although he was wrapped in a thick cloak, the climate seemed fit to bring Alecros frostbite. The duo of himself and Swenson had traveled nearly a day after arriving at the Sacae-Ilia border. The mountain pass's terrain was nearly unbearable, even for the most seasoned hikers.

Alecros sniffed, his toes completely numb. "How far are we from that mercenary fort, Swenson? I can't cope with this cold much longer."

Swenson turned to face Alecros. "It's another two days. Three, if we're held up somehow. I know you're not used to this atmosphere, but you've really got no choice, son."

Alecros snorted. "Well, damn. Is there a town nearby?"

The swordsman nodded. "There is a small village a fair distance away from here. It has no inn, but I imagine we'll be able to find a place to stay for the night."

The ex-pirate looked up at Swenson. "Very well. Guess we should hurry up, then. After all, midday was hours ago."

The duo returned to the trail, trudging through blankets of sleet and snow.

[Alecros]

A week had passed. Alecros and Swenson were still battling the frigid atmosphere of Ilia. Alecros had already developed quite a grudge against the indecent layers of snow and ice. Even Swenson, in all his veteran-esque might, showed signs of deterioration. There was nothing in sight, and it seemed like that would be the case for a long time.

Swenson felt his eyelids suddenly grow heavy. "Aye... Alecros... I ain't feeling too good. How are you holding up?

Alecros swallowed, biting his lip before giving a response. "Well, I'm almost frozen to the bone, and I'm starving. But I'm more worried about you, Swenson. It looks like someone roughed you up."

"Yeah..." Swenson's breathing was shallow, yet still evident. "This cold... Ilia's never been this cold... the climate's intensity is... far above average... it's like some dark curse or something..."

Alecros gave a half-hearted gasp as Swenson's eyelids fluttered. "Dark curse? You're kidding me. Come on, Swenson... don't grow all delirious on me... You're the one that pulled me into this bitch of a country in the first place... I actually have to thank you for that..."

Swenson's response was abridged significantly. "Well, I..."

The veteran warrior had collapsed, his consciousness waning. Alecros rushed over to his side, a feeling of worry developing deep within his mind. His new comrade's life was in danger. Swenson was much older than he, but he was certainly not ready to die.

Frantic, Alecros set him down on the frozen earth, unsure of how to assess the situation. Blast it... I'm not a healer... What am I supposed to do?

It was far too cold to scavenge for food, and even with nourishment, it would take quite a lot for Swenson to regain his strength.

Cursing under his breath, Alecros knelt down onto the snow-covered wasteland, his eyes affixed to the heavens above. Swenson could not afford to die, not here.

[Alecros]

The sun was setting rapidly, its radiant light vanishing behind the frozen horizon.

Swenson had been unconscious for several moments now, and his face was turning a ghastly pale color, the tan pigmention steadily draining away. Alecros had given him the rest of his canteen, in hopes of reviving his fallen ally.

Swenson did manage to wake up, but only for a few moments. The immense fatigue and dehydration were too much for him to handle, it seemed. His half-open eyes glazed over to Alecros, staring straight into the former pirate's face, which was paralyzed with shock. Struggling, Swenson attempted to speak, but could only produce a gurgling sound. Moments later, his eyes fluttered, then closed once more.

Alecros was beside himself. "Swenson! No! Wake up! You're stronger than this! Wake up!"

In the wake of Alecros's grieving frenzy, he noticed that Swenson had stopped breathing. Gasping heavily, a surge of grief flowed through Alecros's body. He had never witnessed a death first-hand before, and the sight was far from pretty. Swenson's lifeless body was a congealed mess of sweat, clammy skin, and frozen limbs. Surely he wasn't much older than forty.

As Alecros took one last look at his fallen comrade, he felt something odd and unexpected overcome him: tears. He hadn't cried since his birth. He hadn't known Swenson for very long, but the headstrong warrior was invaluable nonetheless.

Rest in peace, my friend. Who knows what we would've encounted should you have stayed alive?

Sympathy and grief were rare occurances in Alecros's bastardized mind. However, this occurance would likely have even the most hardened of ruffians moping.

Alecros carefully dug a hole in the seemingly bottomless pit of snow, his bare hands completely numb. Each piece of snow removed from the ground stung like pins and needles, the sensation spreading throughout each of his fingers. Although the hole was not very deep, it was enough to preserve Swenson's body.

Gulping, Alecros reached into Swenson's sheath, and carefully laid his steel blade next to him, covering it with snow as well.

It was now evident that Ilia was an accursed area, at least in Alecros's eyes. He had to find a passage back to Sacae, but navigation in a vast, desolate winter wonderland would prove to be impossible. To make matters worse, night was falling, which would thus cause a significant drop in temperature.

Before turning away, mind devoid of any positive thoughts, Alecros bid a final farewell to Swenson, who would forever sleep under blankets of ice and snow.