Seoyeon woke up substantially warmer than usual but with the unpleasant, itchy feeling of yet more dirt in her clothes.  As she sat up and Captain Park’s thick cloak slipped down into her lap, she scratched at her sleeves, trying to find some way to make herself feel clean.  It was useless, and she gave up with a sigh.  It had been far too long since she’d last washed, and even though she was accustomed to it because her nose couldn’t escape her body, she was pretty sure she must smell pretty terrible.  Her hair, without a proper brush, was so matted with dirt and knots she was pretty sure the only solution would be chopping it all off.

The only plus side was how easy it made the morning routine.  Stretching, Seoyeon yawned, looked around for Captain Park (Chanyeol, she corrected herself, trying not to feel too giddy about it), and then poked her head out of the shelter when she realised he wasn’t in it.

He was sitting beside an already lit fire, food toasting on skewers, and holding what looked like one of Seoyeon’s shoes in his hands.  Blinking, Seoyeon retreated into the shelter to check for her shoes, but they weren’t there, and so she shuffled out to sit beside him.

Chanyeol glanced up and looked briefly over her as she shook herself, shuddering a little at how cold it was.  A fresh layer of snow appeared to have fallen overnight, since it was much deeper than she remembered.

“Where’s my cloak?” Chanyeol asked her, shoe in one hand and flames in the other.

Seoyeon blinked slowly and made to get up again.  “I’ll go get it.  Sorry, I didn’t realise you’d want it back.”

“I don’t.”  He looked back at his hands again.  “You’re going to get cold without it.”

For some reason, it made Seoyeon feel very warm, and her cheeks were suddenly burning.  She peeked at him, hoping he hadn’t seen — thankfully he was still immersed on the task he’d assigned himself — and then did a double take.

“Are you burning my shoes?” she asked incredulously.

“They could do with burning.”  Chanyeol set down one, surrounded by small, white-hot flames that were becoming familiar to Seoyeon, and picked up the other.  “They’re almost completely ruined and they’re not remotely suited to the outdoors, let alone long walks.  No wonder you had blisters.”

Seoyeon eyed the snow around them dubiously.  “Would I be better off without them?”

“Hard to say.”  Chanyeol moved his hand the barest part of an inch, leaving a thin sliver of flames visible.  He seemed to be concentrating very hard.  “Either way, they’re not military issue and they’re definitely not fit for snow, and it’s probably best if you don’t lose toes to frostbite, so…”  He shrugged, motioning to the shoe in flames with his head.  “Try that one on and tell me whether it’s comfortable.  I’ve never done this before.”

Seoyeon looked nervously at the shoe.  It didn’t really seem to be burning, just resting happily in the flames, but when she reached out for it, she had to draw her hand back quickly from the flame’s heat.  Chanyeol was too focused on putting flames on the other shoe to notice, and so she tried again.

The flames on the outside of the shoe were near scorching, so Seoyeon was surprised to discover when she gingerly put her foot in the shoe that it was only warm, pleasantly so.  The movement of the flames tickled lightly against her skin.  The sensation was odd, but not uncomfortable.  She wiggled her foot back and forth, unsure what to make of it.

“Why aren’t the flames burning?” she asked curiously, peering closely at them.  “The ones on the outside are so hot.”

“They’re to melt the snow.”

“Seriously?”  Seoyeon pushed herself to her feet and limped over to the nearest patch.  Sure enough, the second she put her foot down on it, the snow melted with a sizzle in less than a split-second.  She gaped.

When she turned back, it was just in time to see Chanyeol looking down again at the other shoe.  Something that looked suspiciously like a smile was on his face.

“This is amazing,” she said, more to herself, as she stepped carefully onto more snow.  Once more, the snow vapourised.

“All right, come get your other one before your foot freezes,” Chanyeol admonished her with a shake of his head.

Seoyeon hopped over.

“How do you do it?” she asked, wobbling a little as she slipped her foot into the other shoe.  “Can you teach me?”

He shook his head.

“Why not?” Seoyeon demanded at once, folding her arms crossly.  “I’m a good learner.  You know that — you said, well, you implied, as much yesterday.  Jongdae thought I was a good learner too.  I only started learning about herbs and sewing people up when I was at Ximo, and I’m good at it, too.”

Chanyeol grimaced.  “It’s not something you can learn,” he replied, a little snappish.  “You have to be a Borderlander.”

“Then how do I become one?”

“You can’t.  Y—”

“Why not?”

“Let me finish.”  He was beginning to look irritated, and Seoyeon promptly shut up.  “To control Neuma flames, you have to be a Borderlander.  To be a Borderlander, you have to be born here, in the Neuma.  It’s not something inherited or something that can be learnt.  It would be great if I could teach people — it would make my life very much easier — and believe me, if I could, I would.  I’m currently the only fully fledged Borderlander and there’s only one in training at Ximo, and we’re unsure if there are even any more people eligible.”

“Wait.”  Seoyeon frowned at him, unfolding her arms.  “Does that mean you’re one of the weird Neuma monsters, just more… humany?  Is that why your hair is silver-blue?”

His scowl dropped in favour of mild amusement.  “No, I’m completely human,” he assured her.  “It just means my dad brought my mum into the Neuma while she was in labour so she could give birth to me.  He was a Borderlander too.  My hair’s silver because I had an accident with a ghost fire when I was six.”

Seoyeon looked at him thoughtfully for a couple of moments.  “Like a scar?” she wondered.

“I guess so.”  He turned to the skewers, taking one away from the fire and absently pulling off some of the vegetables with his teeth to eat.

Seoyeon looked at the other one for a couple of moments.  He held it out to her before she could reach for it.  For once, it was easy to say thank you.

“Who are you training, then?” she asked.  “To be the other Borderlander, I mean.”

“Oh Sehun.”  Chanyeol prodded at the fire with his foot.  The flames retreated playfully.  “Don’t know if you know him.  He’s one of the young ones - pretty tall.  About my height.  God only knows how he’s managing by himself.  He was still struggling to control rogue ghost fires before…”  He sighed.  “The Neuma’s been so temperamental even before you arrived in Ximo and sent it haywire that it was dangerous for me to go into the library to get him the books he needed.  Training’s one thing, but we had to put his learning on hold, probably until the spring equinox next year.  He’d barely even started on it.  I’m still not sure he was fully competent with the night protection spells for the fortress — I taught them to him, but I was always the one to actually do them every night and there were things I couldn’t keep out.”

His forehead had wrinkled with worry, and there was an undercurrent of deep anxiety in his voice.  For the first time, Seoyeon felt she fully understood just why he had been so annoyed with her for dragging them both into the Neuma.  If so much at Ximo Judian really had depended on him and he wasn’t there to carry out his duties, there was an awful lot that could go wrong and he would likely feel that it was his responsibility if anything happened.

There was