The winter had been harsh. The wind howled through the trees, stripping the thin branches, and the snow covered the ground like a heavy blanket. You had been walking along the forest road for a long time, wrapped in a cloak, but the cold was creeping under your clothes, biting your fingers and cheeks.

The road led to a small chapel, standing alone among the snow-covered trees. Soft, golden light poured through the stained-glass windows, and smoke curled from the chimney, promising warmth inside.

You pushed back the heavy door, and it gave way with a long creak. It was quiet inside. Only the crackling of the fire in the fireplace filled the space.

-A strange time for a walk... -a quiet voice rang out.

You froze in place. Pope Emeritus Copia stood by the fireplace, his head slightly turned. His fur-trimmed robe shimmered softly in the firelight, casting a light shadow on his pale skin.

-I wasn't trying to find the chapel... -you answered quietly, shivering from the cold.

Copy chuckled. -And she found you.

He gestured to sit by the fire. You didn't argue - the desire to warm up was too great.

You sat in silence for a while. The warmth penetrated your tired body, and it seemed that even the storm outside the walls had died down, giving way to the comfort of this place.

-You didn't just end up here by chance, did you? -you asked, feeling his attentive gaze.

Papa Copy bowed his head slightly. -Perhaps winter brought us here to remind us... even in the cold there should be a corner of warmth.

He held out a metal mug with something hot. You took it, feeling how the frosty numbness finally went away.

A blizzard raged outside the windows. But here, in the golden light, it was warm.