Chapter 3: A Cold Day in Belsev

Snow fell.

In some parts of the world, that would have made national news. But in this one, snow was a familiar face, the cousin who showed up unannounced and crashed on the nation’s collective couch for half the year.

Besides, they couldn’t exactly complain about snow falling. What else would it do? There weren’t a lot of other verbs available. In fact, there was a local saying: Being in love was like being a snowflake. You fell, you melted, and sometimes you had to settle. It drew chuckles around the coffee shop every time.

Pamela didn’t know any of this. All she knew about snow was that it was cold and it was wet and it was currently fucking everywhere, inescapably, from the tops of the trees to the soles of her shoes, and it was a significant contributing factor in one of the worst days of her life so far.

Twenty four hours ago, she’d been half a world away, in a city and a country that no longer wanted her. Half an hour ago she’d gotten off an old coach that belched smoke from its exhaust like the devil blaspheming on a cold winter night, and she’d parked herself on a bench at the bus station and let the absolute despair sink into her bones.

The only thing she had to cling to was a letter of acceptance to the University of Arcane Studies, the only public learning institute in the known world to focus on the study of magic.

The letter had not come with a map.

Theoretically, it shouldn’t have been too hard to locate a full-sized university campus in a little town like this. But it was apparently a region full of sensitive government buildings, which shared the same brutalist architecture. She’d heard that in Belsev, getting too close to a government building would result in you being introduced to some very nice men with very nice guns, and they would very nicely pull the triggers to let you see how many bullets fit inside them. Asking questions was not part of this process. Until she figured out exactly which buildings were safe to approach, she had decided that her ass was staying firmly on the bench.

People noticed her. How could they not? She hadn’t exactly had time to pick up a new outfit before she left, and her current one wasn’t suited for the cold. She was wearing artificially ripped skinny jeans and a vest top that deliberately flaunted her breasts, for god’s sake. She wasn’t exactly shy about showing off her assets – why win the genetic lottery if you weren’t going to cash the ticket? – but snowflakes kept falling between her cleavage, and then they melted and made her even wetter and colder than she was before.

Some of the townsfolk – almost all wearing large, heavy coats that she would have killed to have for herself – stopped and tilted their heads at her, wordlessly enquiring if there was something she needed. The first few times, she’d felt her face light up: here was help, or the potential for it! They were locals! They had to know the way! So she gasped, pointing a finger at her own chest excitedly: “University!”

The same thing always happened. They gave her a knowing look. A friendly smile. They said, almost to themselves, “Da, da,” and they walked away. No matter how she called out to them, no matter how she desperately tried to ask “University where? University where?”, they simply didn’t understand her enough to answer.

A foreign country. A foreign people. A foreign language.

It distantly occurred to her that this was how things ended. She would be stranded here, alone and freezing, until the last little bits of warmth in her body finally gave out. She’d be surrounded by people who could have helped her, if only she’d known how to ask or had the foresight to pick up a phrasebook or something, and they’d find her on this bench in the morning as stiff as any other ice sculpture.

To be fair, it was barely worse than what would have happened to her back home. Probably quicker, which was a plus.

As she moped, another doggedly helpful townsperson came to gawk at her. She’d lost patience with them now, was sick of having her hopes built up and torn down. She felt herself scowling at him as he approached.

“Excuse me,” he said, in a lumbering, heavy accent. “You are okay?”

“I am not okay,” she hissed, and she felt the weight of her frustrations preparing to burst out of her. “I’m out here alone, I’ve got no idea where I am, there’s an accommodation waiting for me but I have no idea where the fuck it is and there’s nobody I can even fucking ask, and I am absolutely fucking freezing. Like, holy shit, why is it so cold? I am actually freezing my fucking tits off. Forget cutting glass, I could probably sculpt marble with my nips right now. There are icicles forming in my asscrack. This is the worst,” she complained.

He tilted his head at her quizzically – just like every other townsperson so far. She understood why; she had just launched into an angry rant he didn’t understand. But it still irked her, so she raised an eyebrow at him and asked “What?” in her very finest don’t-fuck-with-me-I’m-feeling-terse voice.

“People around here,” he said slowly and somewhat apologetically, “do not usually talk about their nipples with strangers. You are for the University, yes?”

She gasped and recoiled, because he’d understood every word she’d said and it was so fucking embarrassing she wanted to curl into a ball and die, but then lurched forward because he’d understood every word she’d said and that meant he spoke her language and that meant he could help. “Yes! Yes! But I don’t know where it is. Can you give directions? I need to go.”

His expression, which she noticed now had been somewhat tense, relaxed a little. “I am… not so good with directions in your language. But it is okay. You follow, and I will guide.” He thumped one fist against his chest, and even though she thought it was faintly ridiculous, she’d never felt more reassured by anything in her entire life. “Oh, but wait.”

“What?” She had already stood up, glad to be free of the bench and the malaise it had brought her. The frost had already crept into her bones and made them stiff, but if it hadn’t, she would have been bouncing with energy. The sooner begun, the sooner done.

“Here,” he said, skilfully undoing the toggles of his coat in a way that she wouldn’t have managed even if her fingers weren’t chilled to the bone. He peeled it off and held it out to her. “You are fucking freezing, yes? Then you take until we get to the university. Is warm. And people will not stare.”

“Don’t you need it?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I live here. The cold does not bother me so much. Besides, I have muscles. They are good for keeping warm.”

He did, she had to concede, have muscles. Under his coat he had been wearing just a vest, and under that vest was a well-maintained body. Sure, he wouldn’t be winning any bodybuilder competitions, but his kind of muscle definition was something very uncommon in guys from her old country.

He was also, she thought privately, not bad looking. A strong jaw, brown hair that looked surprisingly well-kept, piercing and attentive eyes. He was good at keeping them on her face instead of her chest, which she found to be a rare talent among men (and some women).

But that could wait. For now she shrugged on the coat, testing the fit. Too big. What reached mid-thigh to him was nearly at her ankles. But it was warm, and that was worth anything right now. “You’re sure?”

“I am sure. It is only end of summer. In winter, it will be much colder than this.” He shrugged, rolling his shoulders. A small smile came to his lips. “If you are worried, then we walk quickly. Will keep us warmer, and we will be in cold for less long.”

He beckoned her with a flick of his hand, and turned on his heel. Although she had a lot of good qualities – particularly physical qualities – long legs were not among them, and she found herself having to take one-and-a-half steps for every one of his.

“T-thanks. For this,” she said. It wasn’t in her nature to let a silence go on for too long; she had too much energy, too little restraint. “I didn’t know where to go, and I was scared to wander around town…”

“Why?” he asked, one of his wolfish ears flattening. “It is good town. Small. Many students. No crime.”

“Well, there’s those government facilities, right? I kinda heard they shoot first and ask questions later, so I didn’t want to go there by accident…”

“Hah!” He barked out a laugh, a short and sharp burst of mist in the cold winter air. “That is only rumours. They ask questions every time.”

“They do?”

“Yes. Questions, they are free. But bullets are deducted from paycheck,” he said wryly. “These guards, they would hit you with rifle before they spend bullets on a stranger. It is better for everyone that way.”

“Oh, huh…”

She wasn’t really sure how reassuring that was, but the moment had passed. She followed along in his wake, keeping her eyes on his broad back. Just like her, he seemed to be a canine-type kemonomimi – although from the look of his tail, he was a lot closer to wolf than dog. She was dog through and through, but the breeds were close enough that it usually didn’t matter. She was still thinking about it when he stopped abruptly, and she all but ploughed into him.

“We stop here for a moment,” he said, after she bounced harmlessly off him. She could probably have shoulder-barged him and not moved him an inch. He pointed towards one of the wide glass storefronts. “This is good coffee shop. Cheap. The staff, they smile. Many students here. Locals also.”

He strode inside, a tinkling bell announcing his presence. There was no queue, although most of the tables were occupied; the staff did indeed smile, as he had promised. She followed along meekly, fretting over the knowledge that her wallet contained no money and would contain no money until she got the details of her grant sorted out at the University.

“Coffee,” he said to the cashier, and then he furrowed his brow, switching back to his native language for a moment. Then he looked back at Pamela over his shoulder, cleared his throat, and switched language again. “We take two coffees. First coffee is black, no sugar. Second one is coffee for student. We will take to go, please,” he said meaningfully.

The cashier nodded, apparently familiar enough with the language to take the order. He glanced back at Pamela again, and she realised that he was demonstrating all this for her benefit; she now had a shop where she could order in her own language and get something approximating what she wanted.

Student coffee, she soon learned, was more milk than coffee and more sugar than water, but it was hot enough to make her teeth ache and that was all she really wanted from it.

“I, uh. Don’t have any money with me,” she told him quietly.

“It is fine. One coffee here and there is no problem,” he shrugged. “It will warm you up. That is what matters.”

They left the shop, and he set off at a comfortable lope down the formless streets. The town, he explained haltingly, was new. Built specifically for the university. Where he grew up, the streets had been formed almost at random, strewn carelessly across the landscape by the demands of the time; here, they were formed up in grids and patterns, carefully thought out by some nameless architect. He sounded mournful, or almost lonely.

“But very easy to find your way,” he added, with a wan smile. “So not all bad. You are from Astrolibert, yes? You have many grid cities.”

“I’m not from Astrolibert anymore,” she said, sullenly. There was a brief silence. The sounds of boots trudging through the snow.

“That is good answer,” he said at last. “If you meet government officials, you tell them that.”

“R-right.” The quiet nagged at her. “They, um. They don’t like magic in Astrolibert.”

It wasn’t her full story. But it was close enough. She’d found out she had a talent, but things had gone wrong. A few buildings destroyed, a giant spectacle that couldn’t be wiped away with a little media spin. Suddenly, she was a person of interest. You didn’t want to be a person of interest in Astrolibert. You wanted to be a faceless drone, far beneath the notice of government cronies. If you could manage that, life wasn’t so bad. You could go out with your friends, drink, have fun.

But she hadn’t managed it. So she’d taken what little she could and fled, seeking support from the Belsev Embassy, offering her magical talents – whatever they turned out to be – in the country’s service. Better than being scooped off the streets and taken off into a little laboratory, to be prodded and tested until they found out what was ‘wrong’ with her.

In Belsev, they would still research her. But they would let her find out by herself what she was and what she could do. If it was useful, they would use her. If it wasn’t? Well, better she stay with them, so that they could stay one step ahead of the other world powers.

“Many here do not like magic also,” he shrugged. “They work the fields. They plough. They see the Zones and what they do, and they want their simple life without any spells. It is all the same.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“Ha!” he barked. “I am in the university town. Would I stay if I were afraid?”

“What if somebody changed their shape in front of you?”

“There are many ways to change shape. You can wear different clothes. You can stand differently. Maybe kneel.”

“What,” she asked, more persistently than she felt she ought, “if somebody grew five feet right in front of your eyes? Or even shrunk?”

“When we are children, we are always growing. And when we are old, we start to shrink. Everyone can do it. Maybe some people do it faster. It is not my business.”

It was a strangely nonchalant way of looking at things, but she supposed it was better than freaking out, which had been her immediate reaction when the incident happened.

“I see.”

“I cannot do anything about it. Therefore, I do not worry. We take right turn here. Nobody uses this street.”

“Huh? Why not?” she asked. It seemed about the same as any other street they’d peered down, save for a lack of shop windows to glance at.

“It is residential street for students,” he grimaced. “People too rich to stay in the dormitories stay here. They are also too rich to shovel snow properly. The ice builds up underneath. Very slippery.” He shook his head. “No shops either. Shops want customers, so they make the front of the store safe to walk.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I see. So there are a lot of people who come unprepared to live here?” There might have been a note of hope in her voice; surely she couldn’t be the only oddball.

“Many. Some come from places where they do not know snow. They go outside and play in it like children. They even eat it!” He sighed. “The snow is very beautiful in the country, where no-one walks and treads it into mush. But in town it is filthy with bootprints. Very easy to catch sickness.”

“Phew. At least I’m not that dumb.”

For the next few seconds, she got the feeling that he was very deliberately not looking at her face, or the state of her wardrobe.

She was about to say something about it when he stopped abruptly. As she’d been following almost in his footprints – mostly because it was easier than pushing through the snow on her own path – she promptly barrelled into his back with a thud. Well, maybe it was more of a squish. She had been blessed in her genetics to the point where her chest arrived noticeably sooner than the rest of her did.

“What gives?” she asked. He had, she noticed, not been budged an inch by her crashing into him.

“This store,” he said, indicating with a sweep of his hand, “is where you buy coat. Can be little expensive, but they are good coats, and money will not keep you warm outside when winter comes. My coat that you are wearing, I bought here. I recommend.”

“I just wish I’d bought a coat before I left Astrolibert…” she sighed.

He huffed twice through his nostrils, the shadow of a laugh. “Many students bring fashionable coats from their home country. All of them freeze. When you are in the desert, buy clothes from desert people. When you are in tundra, buy clothes from tundra people. Makes sense, yes?”

She nodded, and drew the borrowed coat closer around her. Between it and the cup of coffee, she felt like she’d begun to thaw out a little. “I’ll… I’ll come and take a look when I get my money sorted out.”

“Boots also,” he urged. “You will not get far in snow with Astrolibert sneakers.”

“G-gotcha.”

They carried on. As they went, the houses and stores started to become sparser; here and there were empty lots, or places strung up with ‘For Sale’ signs and construction tape. She gave her guide a questioning look, and he wryly tilted his head.

“Rent is not so cheap close to the university. Too much for local business. Residents can live further out in town, and students can live in the university dormitories, so they also do not want.”

“We’re getting close?” she asked, involuntarily wagging her tail. The sudden burst of cold air around her thighs was not appreciated, so she quickly stopped.

“Yes. Here, we go right. You see how the path slopes downward?” he asked. “That is way to University. They built it in a depression in the land.”

She tilted her head. So, they put the University in a ditch? But didn’t big, important buildings usually go high up, so that people could look down on everything around them? That was how it was in Astrolibert, at least.

“They say it is because magic flows downward, and pools in the centre where the University is. This, I do not believe,” he said flatly.

“What do you think it is, then?”

“I think,” he said, tapping his forehead, “that knowledge is heavy. It is why studying makes your head tired. Here, even the land bows beneath its weight.”

He barked a laugh, so it was probably a joke. Probably…? She wasn’t sure. He noticed, and straightened up.

“Forgive me. This is something my old babysitter once said. Perhaps I get the words wrong.”

“Oh, no! I think it sounds, um, kinda profound? But I’m hoping it doesn’t mean it doesn’t mean the ground underneath the university is unstable or anything. Otherwise I’ll have to worry about my weight.”

“Hah hah!” This time he barked louder. “Very good joke. You are too small to be worrying about weight.”

“I’m only small when it comes to height, though. I’m big where it counts!”

“You are talking about heart, yes?”

“Kinda. Somewhere in that vicinity, anyway.”

He smiled a little awkwardly, seemingly not knowing how to react, and carried on walking. The sound of snow crunching under his boots filled the air between them as they wandered down the slope. On either side were planted small trees, each one suspiciously equidistant; it put her in mind of the great casino strips, or some other resort.

“We are on University grounds now. Many students here. Many foreign. Maybe here more people speak your language than mine,” he joked.

“I hope not. I’m, uh… Kinda in it for the long haul, so it’d be good to learn a bit of the language here. If I’m surrounded by people who talk my language already, I’ll get lazy.”

“Hm. If you are in need of tutor, maybe you ask Samantha. She is teaching introductory courses here, so you will meet her before long.” He nodded to himself, crossing his arms. “She also came from Astrolibert. I learned what I know from her. You tell her I sent you, you smile, she will help.” He paused. “Here is central building. For dormitories, we go this way.”

The dorms, he explained, were mostly set off to one side of the central building, with classrooms, labs and other facilities dominating the other three sides. There was also a few student-run shops that had popped up on campus, mostly dealing in stationary and various arcane or scholastic paraphernalia, with a few food shops sprinkled in. How good they were, he couldn’t say; all he knew was that they were conveniently located for a captive audience of students, and the prices were accordingly high.

She half-listened, most of what he was saying floating in one ear and out of the other. Instead, she was occupied by the strange, wistful feeling of a journey coming to its end too soon, and farewells she found herself reluctant to make.

She was still thinking about it when he stopped – again, abruptly – and cleared his throat.

“We are here,” he said, gesturing at the building in front of them. It was as square and brutalist as all the others, but there were various quirky curtains in the many windows, a sign of the students showing off their individuality. “You need only to go to front desk, and speak to building superintendent. They will help you from here.”

“Oh! Uh, right. Great. Fantastic!” she said, although she still felt off in the clouds. “Um, hey. So. Thank you for taking care of me like this. You didn’t have to.”

“It is nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “Right now, I am having too much time and nothing to fill it. Very boring. In this city, if you are not a student, there is nothing to do. If I use an hour here and there to help students find their way, it is fine.”

“You don’t have work or anything?” she asked.

“I work,” he said, folding his arms. His voice was contemplative. “I guide, but usually I am guiding from the University, not to it. I take students out to see the Zones, where the magic is running wild, and I am making sure they come back in one piece.” He paused, and smiled again. “If you go into the Zone for schooling, you ask for me, yes?”

“Yes! I mean, yeah, absolutely,” she giggled. “Although I can’t do that unless I know your name, right?”

“Names in my language are long. Complicated. Not like in Astrolibert,” he said, shrugging. “To you, I am Ivan.”

“Ivan. Okay,” she said, and her voice still felt breathless and giggly. “Well, to you, I’m Pamela, and I owe you a cup of coffee and an hour or two of my time, since you spent that on me. Apparently I’ve been assigned to room 4a, so you can drop by any time you’re bored and you feel like spending time with a foreign beauty, alright?”

“Hah! I see that in your country, they are raising you to have confidence,” he joked. “For now, I will be needing my coat back.”

“Oh, right. I owe you for lending me that as well, huh?” she murmured. She took the coat off reluctantly, already missing the warmth. The air was frighteningly cold on her bare shoulders. “I don’t really have any clothes I can lend you in return, though. Unless you’re the kind of guy who likes wearing women’s underwear.”

“If you grow tired of being a mage, perhaps you look into a career as comedian, yes?” he replied dryly, rolling his eyes and taking his coat. “You are needing more clothes, not less.”

“You’re telling me. Brr! I’m gonna get inside and, uh, get myself set up. It was nice meeting you, Ivan,” she said, and dropped her voice an octave. She was setting aside the jokes; now she was gentle, sincere. “Seriously, come and drop by for a coffee in a week or two when I’m all settled in. I’ll try and learn a little bit of your language so we can chat.”

“I am maybe not so good for conversation,” he warned, smiling wryly. “I mostly only know guns, and this is not good for speaking about with foreign beauties.”

“That’s fine. We don’t know until we try.” She brushed her hand against his arm; her fingertips lingered for a long moment before she pulled herself away. “Well, Ivan. Thanks so much for today. I’ll see you again soon, okay?”

Her tail wagged as she disappeared into the dorms, as if waving him farewell. He sighed, and stuck his hands in his coat pockets. Her scent lingered in the fabric, the strange perfume of a foreign land. He wondered how long it would take for it to fade, and how long it would be until he smelled it again.

Well, if she was at the University, probably sooner than expected. There was just something about the place that lent itself to reunions and chance meetings. Usually, he found it more troublesome than not.

But today, it felt more comforting than usual. The snow crunched underfoot, but there was a spring in his step as he walked back to town, wondering what strange new people he might meet next.