Chapter Text
MONGOLIA WAS COLD—colder than Sponge had ever imagined. The biting wind seemed to cut straight through her thin clothes, making her shiver uncontrollably as she trudged forward. She led Cecil, one hand gripping the reins tightly, while Vvh sat mounted behind her, silent as a shadow.
“I-I should have bought a jacket or something,” Sponge muttered through chattering teeth, her body trembling against the relentless chill. She glanced back at Vvh, whose masked face was turned in her direction, unreadable as always.
“You should have,” Vvh replied, her voice sharp and unsympathetic. “But even if you had, you wouldn’t be able to afford one. Not after what you’ve done.”
Sponge winced at the words, as though they had stung her physically. “It was a mistake…” she murmured, her voice small and full of regret. She wanted to bury her face in her hands, hide from the shame that burned hot against the icy air. But the weight of her guilt was heavier than the cold.
It had been a mistake—falling asleep in a bar after drinking far too much. When she woke up, their gold was gone, stolen by someone who had clearly seen her as an easy mark. Now they were broke, left to scrape by however they could—whether through odd jobs, mining, or whatever else they could find.
Sponge stole a glance at Vvh, who was clearly still furious. Furious, but silent. That was worse, somehow. For days now, Vvh had barely spoken to her, save for the occasional curt instruction during training. There were no small quips, no dry remarks to fill the spaces between them. Just silence. And Sponge hated it—it left her alone with her own thoughts, her own shame.
“I’m sorry…” Sponge murmured again, her head hanging low as she shuffled forward. She could barely bring herself to look at Vvh. Even now, her cheeks burned with humiliation, a stark contrast to the freezing air.
“I do not care for your apologies,” Vvh said coldly, her tone cutting through the air like a blade. “What I care about is how your actions affect those around you.”
Sponge nodded, the words sinking into her like stones. She ducked her head further, wishing she could disappear entirely. “I’m sorry—” she started again, but Vvh interrupted her.
“Sorry is not enough,” Vvh snapped. “What you need is to change. You act like a child—no, perhaps a child could do better than you.” There was something heavy in her voice, something deeper than anger, but Sponge was too flustered to notice.
The words hit harder than any slap. Sponge flinched, her head dipping even lower, shame coursing through her like a wave. Her face felt impossibly hot, her embarrassment so overwhelming it seemed as though she might melt the snow beneath her boots. Vvh’s honesty was brutal, but it was also true. That was what hurt the most.
Sponge wanted to say something—anything—to defend herself, but her throat felt tight, and her mind was blank. She couldn’t summon a witty retort, couldn’t even muster a weak excuse. All she could feel was the leaden weight of guilt in her stomach, dragging her down. The cold in her fingers wasn’t just from the snow; it was the sting of regret, too.
The snowfall grew heavier, swirling around them in thick, blinding sheets. The chill seemed to seep into her very bones, making every step feel like a struggle. But then, through the haze of white, she spotted something—a town. The warm glow of lanterns pierced through the storm, and for a moment, hope flickered in her chest.
“We can’t afford an inn,” Sponge said softly, her eyes lingering on the cheerful sight of people entering a cozy-looking building. She turned to Vvh, who had dismounted from Cecil with practiced ease, her movements calm and deliberate.
“I know,” Vvh replied, taking the reins from Sponge’s hand. “But there’s a mine nearby. We can stay there for now… while you work on earning back what you lost.” Her tone was clipped, but there was no malice in it. She simply stated the facts, as always.
Sponge let out a heavy sigh, nodding in reluctant agreement. “I’ll fix this,” she mumbled, more to herself than to Vvh. But Vvh didn’t respond—she was already walking ahead, leading Cecil toward the path that would take them to the mine.
The trek was grueling. The mine was at least three kilometers away, and the snow made the journey even harder. At one point, Cecil’s reins caught on a tangle of roots, forcing Sponge to stop and cut them away. It was a small delay, but it felt like an eternity in the freezing cold.
By the time they reached the mine, Sponge’s limbs were stiff, and her fingers felt like ice. The entrance to the cavern loomed before them, dark and foreboding, but it offered shelter from the storm. Guiding Cecil inside, they quickly set to work. Sponge gathered wood for a fire, while Vvh inspected the space for any signs of danger.
The cave was larger than Sponge had expected, its walls sturdy and lined with old wooden supports. Torches were mounted at regular intervals, though they were unlit. Once the fire was going, Sponge carefully grabbed one of the torches, holding it to the flames until it caught. She carried it to the walls, lighting each torch in turn.
The process was slow, her fingers fumbling from the cold, but eventually, the cave was filled with a warm, flickering glow.
Once she finished, she returned to Vvh and sat on the ground, the fire crackling in front of them. A gust of wind swept through, causing the flames to flicker before they regained strength. Sponge shivered, while Vvh remained silent and unyielding.
Once she finished, Sponge returned to Vvh and sat down on the ground, the fire crackling between them. A gust of wind swept through the cave, causing the flames to flicker before regaining their strength. Sponge shivered, wrapping her arms around herself, while Vvh sat silent and unmoved.
"Are you not cold?" Sponge asked, concern creeping into her voice. Vvh's pants were similar to hers—loose and uninsulating—and the thought of enduring the chill unsettled her. Another icy draft swept through, making Sponge tremble.
"You'll have to get used to it," Vvh replied, her tone flat. "Most countries and lands are blanketed in snow." She leaned forward, grabbing a stick from the side to prod the fire. The flames flared, casting flickering shadows on the walls as Vvh leaned back again, unfazed by the cold.
"We—We um… never had snow where I’m from," Sponge murmured, her voice soft. "It’s pretty hot there. The only cold you ever feel is from the winds at night." She sneaked a glance at Vvh, hoping her words might spark some interest or even a hint of reaction.
But Vvh remained unresponsive.
Sponge pressed her lips together, trying not to let her disappointment show, though she was sure it was written all over her face.
"You start mining for ores tomorrow," Vvh said, her tone matter-of-fact, breaking the silence.
Sponge hesitated, wanting to retort with something clever—something that would usually get under Vvh’s skin. But the words didn’t come. Her energy was already drained.
"Okay," she replied quietly, her voice flat with defeat.
March 1 of XXXX, The lands of Mongolia
We found ourselves in a cave, and tomorrow I'll be scouring for magic ores. But why wait? I wasn't too tired from the trek—just cold. It's better to move around than stay still; otherwise, you're more susceptible to freezing. (Honestly, Vvh's presence just irks me—she refuses to talk, and small talk never works).
This mine, or let's just call it a cave, has more tunnels and holes than I expected. Thankfully, the lights here are still burning—I think they used some kind of spell to keep them lit, as the cave looks abandoned. I wonder what caused them to leave this place behind.
I can sense so many magical and natural ores in every tunnel.
Signing off,
S.
SPONGE CAREFULY PLUCKED THE ORE from the wall, pinching it between her fingers as she examined it. Satisfied, she nodded to herself and dropped it into her pouch, where the growing weight of her collection had become noticeable.
She adjusted the pouch at her waist, listening to the ores clink softly against one another. A breath escaped her lips, forming white puffs in the frigid air. Even deep within the mine, the cold clung to her like a second skin.
Shivering, Sponge rubbed her arms, her breath growing heavier until a cough wracked her chest, choking on the stale air. She tilted her head up, her flashlight cutting through the thick, musty atmosphere. She curled her lips in disgust. The cave had been abandoned for ages, the air foul and heavy, tasting of murk and sewer—and something else she couldn’t quite place. The stench was overpowering, invading her senses and clouding her focus.
By the time she stumbled out to the entrance, she was sneezing and rubbing at her nose, now as red as Rudolph’s. She thought wryly that she could probably pass for Santa’s reindeer if she tried.
Outside, she spotted Vvh standing alone in the snow, her arms crossed tightly against the cold.
Sponge paused, noting the way Vvh’s gaze seemed distant. She hesitated, unsure whether to step forward and join her. A part of her wanted to, but she knew Vvh needed her space from time to time.