Back? # **Chapter Eighteen: A Sleigh Ride Together With You** *The Magispace, 3:00 PM* Amidst the wild flurry of activity at the Magispace, it was too easy for two members of the vast crowd to sneak away from their tasks entirely unnoticed. Yemi Auclair and Soren Quint — two members of the secretive order of demigods known as the Paladins — had their work cut out for them. As the gods’ chosen champions, they were the last line of defense between the people of Itraviel and the demonic forces that sought to destroy them. Ultimately, they were responsible for ensuring that Eira was sent back to the underworld, where he belonged. The only hitch was that very few were allowed to know the Paladins' existence was anything other than a comforting bedtime story. So, while their powers were immeasurable, their capability to use them was severely limited. Of course, if another group of heroes had already led the charge to defeat their frosty foe, they were well within their means to push them in the right direction. Soren pressed the tip of their gleaming silver staff into the powdery snow, etching a series of runes and surrounding it with a circle. As the ends touched, the air inside the circle became thick and sweet while the circumference began to ripple faintly. Anything happening inside the circle was now safely concealed, imperceptible and inaudible to anyone besides the pair. “And that should do it. You may officially commence your complaining.” Soren gently lowered themself to the ground, stretching their lanky, ashen limbs across the flurry-dusted bank. They removed the elastic from their ponytail, allowing their stringy navy curls to cascade down the back of their crisp black blazer as a few strands dangled over their sunken slate eyes. Yemi paced the perimeter of the circle, long ebony braid swaying like the tail of an agitated horse. “Gladly. My first Hope after getting stuck as a tree and being crapped on by birds for centuries, only to get crapped on by the biggest, most annoying bird of all! Gods, when will I catch a break?!” “Unfortunately, in our line of work, I’m inclined to think the answer to that question is never,” Soren deadpanned. They understood their friend’s frustration, but even their deepest sympathies sounded half-hearted at best. It wasn’t their fault: after a curse from Yarru, even a corpse was more expressive than them. “Sad but true. Still, it sucks that we’ve gotta spend our holidays on duty — otherwise, I’d be three mulled ciders deep already. So, got any plans to get this over with so I can go get jolly?” “You’ll be happy to hear I do. And trust me, I understand where you’re coming from — a hot toddy sounds wonderful right about now.” “Hell yeah, it does. Hit me, o great Paladin of Wisdom,” Yemi grinned. If Soren could have smirked, they would have. “You’ll be considerably less happy once you hear what it entails.” “Just tell me.” “Well, with that enthusiasm…you’re sure?” “Gods, yes! Quit stalling!” Soren shrugged. “If you insist. It involves Nikol--” “Nope. Nuh-uh. Hell no.” “Told you.” “We are NOT getting Nikolas involved with this,” Yemi grumbled. “I do not need that stuck-up, fancy-ass little show-off taking all the credit.” Soren sighed. “Yemi, let’s be honest. You just don’t want him taking your money. You know, the money you owe him?” Yemi crossed her arms with a huff. “He cheats at cards, and he knows it.” Soren rolled their eyes. “Projecting awfully hard there, aren’t we.” They, and all the other Paladins, knew that Nikolas’ only vice was his brusque demeanour. On the other hand, while Yemi was a hero in the end, it would be quicker to list the minor misdeeds she didn’t engage in from time to time — cheating at cards and not paying debts among them. Most would have given up trying to claim what the Paladin of Life owed them years ago. But Nikolas, the equally stubborn Paladin of the Elements, never had and likely never would. “Look, get him involved if you want. I’m just saying if he mentions anything about what I may or may not owe him, I’m out.” Soren silently praised their foresight in undoing their ponytail — the headache their fellow Paladin gave them was pressure enough. “Yemi. Are you really going to let thousands of innocents suffer over ten dollars?” “...Well…” “Yemi.” Yemi threw her hands in the air, agitated. “FINE! I’ll call him. But you owe me.” “I’ll take you to dinner at Gardiner’s once the holiday rush dies down. Fair trade?” Soren asked through gritted teeth. “Deal. Now, be quiet. This ‘channelling’ stuff takes focus.” Yemi flopped onto the ground next to Soren, crisscrossing her legs. Leaning back and closing her eyes, she let her mind wander, reaching out across the fabric of space to Nikolas. She would have gladly let Soren do it, but unfortunately, they weren’t an oracle like she and Nikolas. “Hey, Nik! Pick up!” Yemi felt a jolt as her mind connected to her fellow oracle. Nikolas’ image materialized in the dark mental void—short, tanned, and dressed in velvet and gold from head to toe. His coal-black hair swayed as he tensed, startled by the sudden intrusion. “What the --?! Oh. Yemi. To what do I owe this…” “Pleasure?” Yemi smirked. “I’d say that, but we both know I’d be lying.” “Oh, come on, Nicky-boy. You know you love me.” “I’d love you more if you paid me back. But I digress -- let’s make this quick. I’m up to my ears in work, and any moment I’m not keeping watch is a moment that a billion different tiny matters could go wrong. The Feast of Hope’s magic doesn’t happen on its own, you know.” “I’m well aware. It sounds even more pretentious every time you say it. So, seeing as you’re so occupied, I guess you haven’t seen what’s happening in Mistvale?” Nikolas raised an eyebrow. “Erm…no? Earth is a bit outside our usual jurisdiction, isn’t it?” “Yeah, if someone hadn’t decided to help Ol’ Birdbrain rear his ugly head.” Nikolas’ calm and collected voice cracked with panic, his emerald eyes wide. “Wait, what?! How is that possible? He’s FREE?!” “Well, he’s possessing a human sorceress, but from what Soren told me, he has most— - if not all — of his true strength.” “Oh, by the ten elements…Why didn’t you tell me this before now?!” “Because I hate you and would rather ignore your existence entirely,” Yemi deadpanned, earning a gentle yet firm kick from Soren. “What? It’s true.” Yemi felt around for Soren’s hand and seized it once she found it, hauling Soren into her trance. “Here. You insisted I get him involved, you talk to him.” Soren’s mind wasn’t bound by the limits of their body, so their emotions were on full display. “Yemi! I…ugh. Okay.” They turned to Nikolas. “Anyway, Nikolas, sorry for the delay — if I could reach out to you as easily as someone,” they muttered, shooting Yemi a look, “I would have gladly done so earlier.” Nikolas’ expression softened. “No worries, my friend —at least we’re talking now. I take it you had a task in mind for me?” “Yes, and as much as I hate to pull you away from your other duties, it’s one I’m not sure anyone else could accomplish.” Nikolas chuckled. “Let me guess, it’s something along the lines of a miraculous, whirlwind voyage through insurmountable conditions, doing the impossible in an inconceivable amount of time?” “Well, that is what you do best,” Soren smiled. “We have a team of six heroes — four of which are instrumental parts of the plan to defeat the Lord of Frost — stranded about…” They paused, crunching some numbers. “Two thousand miles away from where they need to be. Not only that, but the storm has rendered it impossible for any other means of travel to carry them home. So, I’m afraid it falls onto you to rescue them.” “Well…hm. That’s quite the tall order.” “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to!” Yemi butted in. “I have my own plan — we tie you up and sacrifice you to him! I bet he’d love that! Or, y’know, since you’re so busy, you can just sit around in that cushy mountain palace of yours and do nothing while he kills thousands of innocents, builds up power, and spreads his icy reign of terror across Itraviel too!” “Yemi! Don’t help,” Soren hissed, mouthing ‘sorry’ to Nikolas under their breath. “Indeed, you’re definitely not helping your case. But I won’t let his schemes go on any longer — on my honour as a Paladin, I can’t. Let me wrap up a few matters, and I’ll be there as soon as possible. Be ready for me.” The mental link severed, propelling Yemi and Soren back to reality. “I won’t let his schemes go on any longer. Be ready for me,” Yemi muttered in an insulting approximation of Nikolas’ commanding baritone. “Gods, I hate him.”