FROST COLLECTED ON THE windows, making crystalline mosaics of ice; snow and ice blanketed the streets and roofs, giving everything a bright and fluffy look; swirling clouds of mist and fog danced and hung in the air, blurring and dulling sight; and with them, joining as an ignorant, unwelcome visitor to a party, was the cold.

   As nature ruled, along with the aesthetic beauty of the snow, the pleasures such as the taste of hot cocoa on the tongue, the scents of chocolate and snow in the air, and the experience of sleeping by a fire with its crackling in the ears, there was the devastating cold.

   To combat this cold, most people had heavy blankets to sleep in, heavy coats, firewood, hot cocoa, and an isolated home. But Tomas had none of that.

   So while people carried out their heavy blankets to sleep through the unusually cold night, Tomas curled under his thin blankets of cloth and snow. While others slept by a fire, soothed as they basked in its warmth and listened to its crackling, Tomas shivered inside his jacket and blankets, suffering. And as others slept, Tomas lied wide awake, tormented by the cold and the knowledge that he still had a few more hours before daybreak, before others woke and opened their shops.

   And to think he'd been so tranquil, at peace, barely hours before.

   By the time people began filling the streets of Vadera, remarking about the unusual weather that'd come in the night, Tomas had risen from his makeshift bed and started moving around town to try to shake off the cold.

   Despite having endured the pains of the elements, hunger, and illnesses all of his life, the weather that settled over the town was something he couldn't bear. The biting and aching cold made him shake so much he couldn't reliably use his hands; the snow and ice made him feel unstable on his feet; and the fog hindered his vision and left him groping for the sense of self-assuredness he'd always had.

   Everything about the weather left Tomas so disoriented and panicked that he barely spared a moment to think before he stole a heavy coat, mittens, and earmuffs from a tailor's shop.

   Soon after putting on his new winter garb, retreating into another store to warm up near its fire, and allowing his mind to clear itself of its confusion and panic, Tomas came to realize something. If he--who could see an aes drop from another room--struggled to see, then others--who seemed to see a lot less than he--would have a much, much harder time seeing.

   Tomas didn't stray from his resolve to never steal more than an argentum from a person, but even with it, his shakier hands, and the slipperiness of the ground, he managed to steal more than he would on his best days.

   By the time the sun was setting and he was numb from the cold, Tomas was just finishing his rounds. As he passed the tailor's store, his eyes lingered on the dark windows for a beat too long. Guilt swelled in his heart, but he forced his eyes to his feet and kept his expression empty.

   I needed these, he told himself as his fingers picked at the sleeves of his coat. People can die from the cold, right? It's probably cold enough for that. And yet the cold fingers of guilt still wrapped their way around his heart.

   Tomas stole to keep himself alive, but it wasn't as though he enjoyed it, and he usually tried to steal only small amounts from various people.

   I needed this, he thought again, trying to convince himself of it.

   But as he slipped by the store, Tomas dropped a silver argentum on his shoe and pushed it under the door where it would doubtlessly be found the next day.

   When he pushed away the blanket to his home, Tomas was greeted by the sight of Cinna already curled up in his bed, asleep and having waited for him. The familiar sight soothed him. It didn't take long for him to fall next to his cat, put Cinna on his chest, and fall asleep feeling her purring.

   Morning greeted him coldly, for he awoke covered in snow, trembling enough that there was air between his skin and the snow around him. In spite of its rude awakening, Tomas immediately set to digging into the snow beside his bed and the dirt that laid underneath it. After half an hour of work and struggle as Cinna begged to be petted, he dug up a tin can full of tiny aes, large denarii, and smaller argentum--but no aurum, of course.

   The dirt that stuck to his hands was quickly wiped off onto his pants before Tomas pulled the matching coins out of his pockets--the profits yesterday's work--set some aside for breakfast, and stashed the rest in the tin can--his savings. Soon enough, Tomas reburied the can, wiped his hands off on his pants again, and pet Cinna for a bit.

   Once Cinna was satisfied with how much she'd been pet, Tomas set out to continue his daily routine of eating the cheapest things he could get his hands on, pickpocketing more money, and doing little things such as getting food for Cinna, stopping when he was exhausted, and wandering the ever-familiar streets.

   The rest of the week passed in a blur of numbness and hustle and before Tomas knew it, it was the day before he had promised to meet with Pierce again. By then, the cold had mostly left Vadera--the mist risen from the streets, the snow melting, and the frost gone from the windows--but its effects lingered on Tomas.

   Though the weather was back to normal, the touch of the cold remained on Tomas's skin and its icy fingers wrapped themselves around his heart. The fog hung in his mind, making it hard for him to think properly.

   As Tomas slipped coins out of someone's pocket, their hand drifted toward it. Tomas quickly drew his hand away and, as fear overpowered the fog, slunk into the nearest building he saw.

   Sharp aromas of food filled Tomas's nose as he stepped inside the bakery and the tinkling sound of a bell rang in his ears. Most of the people sitting at the tables minded their own business, but a woman behind a counter looked up.

   The moment she laid eyes on him, surprise filled the woman's expression. Tomas knew exactly what she was thinking--what most people thought when they saw him. After living on the streets for most of his life and putting most of his money into savings, Tomas had lost most of the weight he'd managed to get in his early years of living in an orphanage. He was painfully skinny and, due to a lack of an easily-accessible way to clean himself, had mud and dirt caked on his body.

   Ever-conscious of how suspicious it'd seem to enter a place and quickly leave--especially looking like a street orphan, which made it all the more suspicious--Tomas stepped toward the counter where the woman stood.

   "What do you have?" he asked softly. As an afterthought, Tomas ran his hand back through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes, and smiled at her.

   It took a moment for the woman to stop staring at him, surprise written all over her expression, but she cleared her throat, leaned back, and vaguely motioned some place behind her. "We have a menu there."

   Here we go again, Tomas thought. Nervously picking at the edges of his sleeves, he looked up at the wooden board he knew to be the menu and looked at the shapes and symbols painted on it. Tomas's eyes stared intently on it for a moment before he bit his lip, looked down at her, and put a friendly smile on his lips.

   "What would you suggest?" he asked, as he always had to.

   Suspicion immediately showed itself in the woman's expression as she narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, but she leaned forward against the counter and said matter-of-factly, "the marble cake and coffee's pretty good, but if you like tea better, I'd suggest the chamomile." After a pause, her expression softened and she asked, "you do have the money to pay, right?"

   "Of course. I'll take that cake and coffee, if you don't mind... how much does it cost?" Tomas asked, smiling up at the woman and slipping his hand in his pocket. The fact that he'd run in to hide from someone he'd pickpocketed from lingered in his mind, keeping the fear and worry there, but he had tons of practice managing his expression.

   Soon Tomas had given the woman six aes, sat down at a table, and had his sketchbook laid on the table, open to a new page. Tomas had a pencil in his hand and was leaning over the book, but his eyes were looking out the window, looking to see if someone was outside, watching him. His eyes lingered there for a beat, but as he saw nobody, he slowly let out a breath, turned to his sketchbook, and began drawing.

   In his mind, Tomas could still see the frosted windows, snow-covered streets, and heavily-clad people from before, so he decided to draw the scene--beginning with the homes and stores, then the streets, and then moving on to drawing people with their heads turned, hurrying away in their heavy coats as they tried to escape from the weather.

   Absorbed as he was in his drawing, Tomas didn't notice the woman until she was at his side, sliding a plate and cup onto the table he sat at.

   "Hey, that's a great drawing," she said. Though her hands pushed the food onto his table, she was peering over his shoulder at his drawing, her frizzy black hair haloing her face.

   Tomas almost jumped, but he only looked at her as he tried to calm his racing heart and process her words. When his mind finally put the words together, he glanced down at his art and took it in. To him, it was only what he saw in his mind, a moment of cold and ignorance immortalized, so he couldn't take in the quality of the art. However, a faint smile came to Tomas's lips and, when he looked up at her, it grew. His heart was slowly calming down.

   "Thanks," he said, putting his pencil down on the sketchbook and pushing it to the side for her to get a better look. The woman picked it up carefully and began flipping through its pages, looking at all of his other drawings. Tomas glanced at her as she picked it up, but quickly pulled the plate and cup toward himself.

   Halfway through savouring his cake and coffee--luxuries Tomas didn't allow himself often--the woman set down the book. "These are amazing. I'd pay for some of these."

   "Wh--you would?" Tomas asked incredulously, almost dropping his fork into his cake as he looked at her wide-eyed.

   The woman's face lit up as a grin tore at her lips. "Think I'd joke about something like that?" she asked, and pushed the book toward him. "Seriously, I think you could get a job selling these. How long have you been drawing? No--how old are you?"

   After slowly setting down his fork, Tomas picked up his sketchbook. He couldn't stop looking between her and it, unsure of what to think and not wanting to get his hopes up. "Uh--fifteen?" he said uncertainly.

   "Okay, then you still have some time," the woman said quickly. Without hesitation, she quickly pulled a chair out and sat in front of Tomas. Dark curls fell in her eyes as she leaned forward and placed her palms on the table. "Try to get people to notice your art. You're in the perfect place for this. People in cities like this have the money to spare for art, you know? Sell a bit on the streets, show it off or something. I mean, you can try to rent out a store, but I can understand if your family doesn't have enough money. Heck, I'm sure you could even convince the owner of this place to let you show off here if you attract customers."

   Tomas couldn't tear his eyes off of the woman. Likewise, his mind simply wouldn't accept what she was saying. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked. What does she have to gain from this? he wondered. In his life, nobody ever helped him for no reason.

   "Why not?" she asked. Her grin dwindled, reducing itself to only a faint smile smile.

   The words shocked Tomas. Timidly, he looked down at his sketchbook and rested his hand on its pages. I can draw and get money for it? Is it really possible for it to be that easy? His heartbeat thrummed in his ears. "I guess nobody's tried to go out of their way to help me before," he murmured.

   Without warning, the woman quickly stood up, drawing Tomas's eyes from the sketchbook. An unconvincing smile was pasted on her lips, but nothing could hide the pain in her eyes. "Well, just keep what I said in mind, okay?" she said.

   Humouring her fake smile, Tomas put a convincing one on his lips. "Alright," he said. Of course, he meant to say. How could I forget?

   "Taiya," she said, reaching out to him, and Tomas paused. It took him a second to realize it was her name.

   Daren, he wanted to say back. The familiar lie always rested on his lips. But Taiya had shown him something he never could've imagined having--a chance to live a normal life, to not have to lie, cheat, and steal. To be himself.

   "Tomas," he replied, taking her hand. His own name was unfamiliar to his lips, to his ears. The last time he heard it, he'd been eight and learned that giving his name was giving his past--and giving people a chance to use everything he did against him. Now I can make amends.

   Smiling honestly now, Taiya gave his hand a shake, said "good luck," and hurried off. The near-fuzzball that was her hair bobbed as she walked and there seemed to be a slight spring in her step.

   "Why are you telling me this?"

   Taiya's grin faded. "Why not?"

   If only everyone else could be happy helping other people, Tomas thought, and turned toward his sketchbook. Gingerly, he rested his hand on it. One day, he would repay her some way.

   For maybe half an hour, Tomas stayed in the bakery eating, drawing, and thinking. The fog and fear that had filled his mind and body finally retreated from him, gracing him with the ability of clear thought. Wielding this ability as best he could, Tomas considered what Taiya told him and how he could possibly switch from his lifestyle of theft to an honest one. By the time Tomas walked out of the door, he had a plan: he would meet with Pierce tomorrow as they had agreed to do, sell off whatever was left during the zhara that took place at the end of the month, and proceed to take Taiya's advice to sell his artwork for a living.

   For the first time in Tomas's life, he felt hope. The gods were on his side, granting him luck and the possibility for happiness--all he had to do was take it. When Novum ended, Tomas would be beginning a new life. It was a shame that he couldn't have met Taiya a month earlier, or he could've started a new life with a new year. The gods may have blessed him, but unfortunately, they didn't share his sense of humour.