Meanwhile.
Outside the magnificent Divine Hall that soared into the clouds in Winterhold's central district.
The blizzard roared like a savage beast over the long flight of steps.
Kairils used no divine power to ward off the biting cold. He let the wind lash his pale, bloodless face with flying snow.
He climbed slowly, one step at a time, yet with extraordinary steadiness.
When the heavily armored knights lining the steps saw the Genius Knight ascending alone, they bowed their heads slightly toward him in a gesture of the utmost respect.
When he reached the top of the steps.
Kairils stopped.
Complex emotions that others could scarcely discern churned in his azure eyes.
Every brick and stone in this Divine Hall embodied the faith he had held as dear as life itself for as long as he could remember.
He was the most devout of believers.
His faith in the Lord of Winter and Contracts was purer than that of any other knight.
Yet now, the hand he rested against the Divine Hall's doors trembled almost imperceptibly.
Self-reproach and guilt tangled in his heart, weighing on him like a boulder until he could barely breathe.
The knights he had led out, those living, breathing men who had roared before him, "I'm a Winterhold Knight, damn it!"
All of them had been left on that wilderness forever.
He had failed as a captain.
Kairils squeezed his eyes shut as icy snowflakes settled on his silver hair.
The blizzard raged.
Yet Kairils never felt cold.
Because he knew that this was the god he believed in, silently embracing this world riddled with wounds.
He drew a deep breath of freezing air.
When he opened his eyes again, he forcibly buried all his sorrow and weakness in the deepest corner of his heart.