“Friend of yours?” Cerberus asked, not tearing his bewitched eyes off Azai.

“Well, not friend. Team mate more like it. I didn’t even speak to him yet,” Coal replied, focusing more power on the runes and the wispy tendrils of purple light that rose from them.

“Hopefully you don’t make a fool of yourself this time.” Cerberus snickered as Coal glared daggers at him, mumbling something foul under his breath as he continued his work.

The snow and ice was clearing fast fortunately, the roofs were clear save for some deep grooves that still held some slush. The door to the first home-sickle was starting to clear up, just a few more inches of clear ice was left. The warped and fuzzy door became clearer the more it thawed.

“Hey, I’m almost there-”
A sudden cold wind sliced through the silent air, the ice covering the home grew twice as thick, and Coal actually [i]shivered[/i]. Either the storm was growing stronger, or Coal was burning more mana than he thought. Coal immediately wrapped his arms around himself, eyes screwed shut as he muttered an incantation through chattering teeth. His jacket stopped flapping, and the wind and snow slowed, warmth returned to his body. However, fear still resided. 
With all the sudden fear and self doubt, his power was weakened. The runes glowed a weak sickly colour, and the snow around him stopped melting.
If his mana-burning runes failed, he would succumb to hypothermia quickly. [i]"I can’t hold back the storm of the century in this,”[/i] and many more dangerous scenarios wrecked both Coal’s mind and calm. 

Starting to heavily regret his choice of flimsy clothing, Coal dug his hands in the leather-bound bag at his side, firmly grasping the comforting presence of his bottled up physics and talismans. Magic wasn’t only about mana anyway, he was a witch, he could be crafty and do anything with bits of twine and twig. The very energy of the universe flowed through him, he could survive just as his ancestors did. Witches were prosecuted for centuries, and yet they are still around. What’s a little foul weather to him?
 The thought of this comforted him, and the familiar body of his familiar wrapped around his neck helped too. There was nothing he needed to fear, he’d promised himself to prevail, and that’s what he was going to do. 

He started conserving his energy, causing the ice around him remained constant. Never growing, nor shrinking. [i]"I’ll save every last drop of mana, and blow everyone away with a spectacle of genius and magic!"[/i] he thought to himself, drunk on what little confidence he had on that moment, he didn’t really care what was wishful thinking, and what could ever possibly be a reality. At least he was hopeful.