Dark Wind, Icy Snow - RyuTar, YinYuan

Nox ZaiWin climbed down the stairs three steps at a time and stormed out of the Fortress like a maddened shadow, startling the two men guarding the door that had been practically asleep at their pots.

Turning right, he made his way to the shed they had been using as a secondary stable, since the original Fortress' stables were hardly large enough to house all their horses. By the time they reached it, the sky was completely bright, even though the sun remained hiding behind the surrounding hills and would only make its appearance much later in the morning.

The sound of horses breathing and pacing filled the large space, but ZaiWin didn't even hesitate, going straight to the small stall where he's horse had been staying. And there he was, he thought, halting by the wood door, a wave of relief he refused to acknowledge washing away the dark tension that had overtaken his entire body.

Lying on a pile of fresh straw placed on the floor, was a skinny boy dressed in a white tunic that bȧrėly reached above his skinny knees. However, the moment he stepped into the stall, the black horse inside it snorted angrily and pawed the dirt beneath his hooves, placing himself protectively in front of him.

"Black, what do you think you're doing?" he demanded and the horse pushed him with its forehead, forcing him to take two steps back.

Behind him ZenTar chuckled.

"It would seem your horse has chosen a different master."

ZaiWin frowned, unable to find it the least bit funny.

"Move it, you stupid horse! Or I swear I'll braid your entire mane!" he threatened and his horse snorted again, shaking its head, its ears turning left and right. ZenTar sighed.

"When will you ever learn that not everything can be solved with threats?" he asked and fished something out from inside his jacket's pocket, unwrapping it. "Here Black. Want some?" he offered, placing a small brown-gold cube on his palm, and Black's ears immediately perked, its black eyes seeming to glow. "That's right. Come and get it."

"Candy?" ZaiWin asked, recognizing the small cube, and ZenTar smiled, shrugging.

"They had them stored in the kitchen. I just couldn't help it," he replied, stepping back, until Black had followed him all the way out of the stall.

The moment his path was clear ZaiWin sneaked inside, crossing the small compartment to take a closer look at the boy. He looked like he was … asleep, he concluded, hot searing anger burning his stomach. The damn brat! Making him run all over the Fortress, searching for him, when there he was, comfortably sleeping atop a pile of straw.

"See? He didn't run away, after all," ZenTar said, entering the stall as well, while Black happily chewed on his candy outside.

Frowning, annoyed at how that had sounded, ZaiWin squatted down and harshly shook the boy awake.

"Hey, you damn brat! Wake up!"

Snow opened his eyes with a startle and immediately sat up, but his vision instantly went dark, the world shifting nauseatingly from one side to the other. Had he fallen asleep?? How could he have fallen asleep? All he had wanted was to get a bit of rest, after the tiring and almost impossible task of making from his bedroom all the way to that place. Once he'd gotten there his legs had been so weak that he could hardly stand, much less mount a horse as had been his intent. And so he had sat down for a moment, just so he could catch his breath.

"What are you doing here? Making me look for you all over the place! Do you think I don't have anything better to do? Get up!" the dark monster commanded, reaching out to grab him, but Snow quickly slapped his hand away, scooting as far away from him as possible.

ZaiWin looked incredulous at his now reddened, aching hand, anger pilling up inside his ċhėst to the point he wanted to shred the damn brat to pieces. But the moment he was about to lunge over him and grab him by his neck, ZenTar's warm hand on his shoulder pulled him back.

"Wait! Something's not right."

ZaiWin's frown deepened. He couldn't care less! But then, when he actually looked at the brat, he couldn't help admit that ZenTar was probably right. The boy's pale eyes were fixed on him in a threatening, cold expression that promised him a very painful death, should he try to grab him again. Not that he believed that the damn brat could actually do it, but even when he'd threatened him the previous day, the boy had never glared at him with such open animosity. His eyes seemed made of ice, filled with small crystal-like spots that shimmered like silver, making them completely inhuman. But, even though he was clearly trying his best to look dangerous and threatening, his breathing was too fast and labored, his small shoulders trembling, his arms shaking from the effort to keep himself in a upright position. And then he finally noticed, the small spot of blood that was slowly growing, tinting the sleeve of his tunic.

He moved so fast that Snow couldn't even see it. The next thing he knew his wrist had been grabbed and the monster was trying to pull his sleeve up.

"No!"

Even though Snow hadn't really shouted his voice rose well above his usual whispers and the air around them went suddenly ice cold, ZaiWin's fingers losing all sensibility as if he'd just grabbed a block of ice with his bȧrė hands.

"Quit it, brat! Even if you freeze me to death, I won't let you go! So do your worse!" he declared, harshly pulling his sleeve up, uncovering the bloody bandage tied around his arm. "Shit! Who did this to you?"

Snow tried to pull his arm free from that iron-like grip but, no matter how much he pulled, those long, warm fingers wouldn't even budge. Well, it wasn't as if he would ever have the strength to fight him off, even if he were in his best condition, which was hardly the case. The world spun dizzily around him from exhorting himself too much and he felt himself fall. His forehead landed against something soft and that smelled unexpectedly good. It was a strangely familiar scent, but one that he couldn't quite pinpoint. In any case, that was hardly important now! He couldn't faint! He wouldn't faint!, he told himself, pushing against that soft surface, trying to straighten his back. His head felt like it weighted a ton.

The soft surface he was leaning on rose and fell at the sound of a deep sigh, startling him, making him want to pull away from whatever was in front of him even faster, but something hard and warm held his legs and, in the next moment, he was being risen from the ground. Shutting his mouth, he managed to silence a gasp of surprise, the sudden height making him dizzy, forcing him to lean his forehead again. For a moment he expected to be thrown over his shoulder again, like he'd done before, but the monster simply sat him on his arm as if he were no more than a child.

"He looks really pale," ZenTar observed with a worried expression when the boy closed his eyes, his breathing as labored as before.

"He feels really hot," ZaiWin noted, his neck quickly warming up where the boy's forehead touched him, and ZenTar took off his cloak to cover him up. "Shitty brat! Just you try and get sick now that we have to leave!" he grunted angrily but still carried him out of the shed in a slow, careful pace.

Snow's world darkened completely. He knew he hadn't fainted because he could still feel the swing of the monster's pace but, beyond that, he couldn't hear or see anything. He felt really tired and wanted very much to go back to sleep. Holding on to that sliver of consciousness was the best he could do. Even his thoughts went numb, his mind completely blank. The next thing he knew, he was gently placed on a smooth surface that invited him even more to relax and sleep. But when warm hands held his arm and pulled his sleeve up again, a flood of panic coursed though him and was finally able to open his eyes.

With a jerk he held his arm against his ċhėst and frowned, glaring threateningly at the blue eyes in front of him.

"You're bleeding, brat! Let me see …"

He cringed back when that pale hand reached out for him again and quickly took a look around. He wasn't only bleeding. He was back in that detestable bedroom again.

"I'm going to wake up the healer," another voice declared and his heart immediately jumped one beat.

"No!" he urgently blurted out and a wave of ice-cold air spread around the room, freezing the door shut and making ZenTar, who was about to reach for the doorknob, jump back.

"Freaking son of a whore!" he let out with a startle, certain that should he have been touching the door his arm would have been completely frozen solid as well.

"Damned brat! Didn't I tell you to cut that shit out?" ZaiWin reprimanded him but the cold, accusing glare he received in return broke the torrent of threats he'd been about to unleash on the boy. It was as if he was blaming him for something.

Hugging his arm against his ċhėst, Snow pulled his knees up, closing himself into a small ball, trying to clear his feverish head enough to decide on what to do next. Maybe he should just scream, he thought bleakly. What if all the men in the Fortress dropped dead? All of them would probably bleed him like a pig if they got the chance. Now that he didn't have that metal collar around his neck this was his chance. Who knew when they would change their minds, and decide to put it back on him again?

ZaiWin sighed and did his best to control his roiling anger, even though he couldn't really tell what had angered him more, if the fact that the brat had dared to use his daitai against them, or the fact that someone had dared to go against his command and gone as far as to cut him.

"Brat! Let me see you arm," he commanded in a calmer tone of voice and received another hard, cold glare in return. "Fine. You choose. Either you let me see it or I knock you out and do as I please."

Snow frowned but, although clearly unwilling, ended up stretching his arm over the soft covers. Darkness seemed to eat it whole as the monster carefully undid his bandages.

"Damn. That looks ugly," ZenTar observed, peering at it over the monster's shoulder, and Snow made a point to avert his gaze. He'd seen himself bleed plenty of times to know what it looked like. And no matter how much he was used to it, more than the pain itself, looking at the evidence that once more he'd been helpless, unable to protect himself, opened an aching gape in his ċhėst.

"So you don't want us to call the healer," the monster wanted to make sure and Snow glared at him again. He never wanted to see that man again! "Fine. Then let Zen go and fetch some clean bandages." Snow frowned again. "We all know your healing speed is above average but this cut is rather deep and you're already running a fever. Are you sure you want to risk getting it infected?"

Snow considered his words for a moment and ended up slowly nodding. He felt weak as it was. He definitely didn't want to get worse.

"Can you open it?" ZaiWin asked, peering up, and accepted the glass of water that ZenTar handed to him.

"Yeah. I just didn't want to make things worse by fighting back. Don't worry. I know what to do," he added, making his way to the door and, placing a hand on the doorknob, heated it until the sound of cracking ice reached their ears. And then he was out of the room, in a fast, urgent pace.

"Drink. You're so dehydrated that your lips are chipping again." Snow pressed his lips together but didn't move a single muscle to accept it. "You know, brat. You have to stop this shit! Making me repeat myself over and over again is truly annoying. Drink!"

Snow lowered his gaze and tried to sit up. Weak as he was the monster would probably pour the water down his throat if he didn't take it. And he had had his share of things poured down his throat to know that it was never a pleasant experience.

His good arm shook, since he didn't dare use his injured one, but then a large hand was holding him and helping him up, supporting him when he felt dizzy again. The cool glass was pressed against his lips and held there, allowing him to drink slowly so he wouldn't choke.

"Zen is right. You look like shit. How much blood did that bastard take from you?"

Snow's eyes widened at the dark, deadly tone with which he'd uttered that question, and coughed, spilling water all over himself. So he'd figured that out, he thought, panicking, his cut suddenly hurting even more.

"Are you seriously wondering how I know? You look as if you've been dead for three days! And the wound on your arm as been cut over and over again, to make sure your blood kept flowing at a steady rate, right?" he asked and Snow couldn't help stare up at those blue eyes in silent fear and amazement. "And then he even had the nerve to patch it up! Is that suppose to be some kind of atonement?" he growled, his eyes burning cold and deadly. "I'll cut off his arm the minute ZenTar's men catch up with him!"

Snow shuddered as the dark mass in front of him grew even larger and denser. Reaching out a trembling hand he tried to find the man he now knew hid inside that blackness. His fingers touched something soft and he quickly held on to it, relieved that he'd been right and that the man hadn't been completely consumed by the heavy darkness.

"It … will save lives …" he did his best to whisper, his throat still dry, and the blue eyes looking at him became even more severe and angry.

"Are you saying you agreed to this?" Snow's eyes widened in horror at the mere thought. "That's what I thought! So why are you making up excuses for him?!"

Snow squeezed that soft fabric harder. He could feel the warmth of the body beneath it. A warmth that could actually make others feel comfortable, like he'd felt when he'd carried him back. But the black darkness that always surrounded him was like a deadly storm, destroying everything around it, hiding that warmth away in a hurricane of sharp icy shards. He couldn't care less about what happened to the man that had hurt him. But, somehow, even though it didn't make any sense, he didn't want to see that darkness become even darker.

As if he would ever be strong enough to accomplish something like that … Snow thought, releasing him and lowering his arm. He couldn't even save himself. What was he thinking? Trying to save that dangerous monster from himself. And why would he want to save anyone to begin with? He had to focus on himself, on getting free! Sure that monster had been keeping him alive, but he was certain that it wasn't out of the kindness of his heart. He must want something from him. And if he didn't, he would probably end up selling him to someone who wanted, like the Lord had planned to do.

ZaiWin looked at the boy sitting in front of him, head down, his scrawny body still unsteady, wavering like a leaf in the wind. He looked so small and frail he was sure he could squeeze the life out of him with just one hand. He recalled the small, gentle smile that he'd seen on his face, when he'd ċȧrėssed Black's mane. Back then, he too had felt kind of happy. It was clear that the brat had had nothing short of a tough life, the numerous scars on his body more than enough proof of that. That even after all he'd been through he'd still been able to smile like that was nothing short of a miracle. But now all the light was gone from his pale eyes, the color drained from his cheeks. And the feeling that someone had just crushed the small seedling he'd finally been able to plant, pissed him off beyond words, making him want for blood.

"Shit!" ZaiWin grunted, averting his gaze.

Damn that fuċkɨnġ link!, he thought, squeezing his fists. Even without him taking his vows it still tugged at him. And maybe he was being paranoid, but it felt like it was getting stronger by the day. He had to find a way to break it as soon as possible!

In any case, the latest events were proof more than enough that delaying their departure would only further unsettle the men, making things even more difficult for everyone. The rumors circling around the Fortress were as varied and colorful as rumors can be. And even though the divergence of opinions regarding the boy's nature would eventually work to their advantage, the fact that everyone agreed that he held some king of mystic power would eventually keep leading to situations like this. And he truly did not want to have to slaughter his own men.

Looking at the boy he silently sighed.

They would leave as soon as he was sure the brat was well enough to ride without falling of his horse, he decided.