Sins of the father

ludo Braved the forests, braved the stone Braved the icy winds and fire Braved and beat them on my own Ludo regarded her silently as she spoke, the cloak of shadows it was wrapped in seeming to writhe and flicker of its own accord. "Such a fragile creature, born into the harshest of seasons," it muttered. "I dislike Deepfrost, but for the snow. The cold bites, and it brings the longest of all the nights. Almost all your family have perished during that time of year." It spoke without malice but without warmth, either; frank, calm, cool. And then it lurched forward, wrapping itself around her in warm and suffocating black. When it retreated, it left in its wake a pitch dark shawl snug around Maea's shoulders. Lightweight, as though it was made of nothing, it would seem to keep out any bit of chill in the air. If one were not mistaken, it appeared to be made of the same material as Ludo's rags. "Use your magic humbly, sweetling. Use it under the eye of the Old Gods - without pride and without expectation of anything more. Your modesty will be your atonement. And in return, you shall never feel cold again."