A grave look passed over the old man’s face. Jeffery was worried. Just how dangerous would this task be? What of other Mistweavers? The man started to speak, but Jeffery was centered on his thoughts, and only realized in the middle of the man’s sentence: “-In the northern part of the continent, in the mountains. It’s very cold up there, unlike here, it will do you good to buy some warmer clothing.”

Jeffery then thought of something. Where was “here”, anyway? He had no idea. Jeffery asked with fear in his voice: “Where am I?” The man laughed, and replied.
“They usually ask earlier.”
“Who are ‘they’? Didn’t you tell me that after a time, you fall into asleep after transferring your power?”
A look passed over the man’s face. It looked to be worry, but Jeffery could not tell.
“You see, Jeffery, it’s not that simple. The spell to transfer power not only puts a great strain on me, but the target as well. The mist tests them to see if they are worthy.”
“So what happened to them?”
“They were not worthy.”