Dark Wind, Icy Snow - RyuTar, YinYuan

It was so hot in there that he could hardly breathe. Or maybe that was because he was practically crushed against the metallic wall of the box, the spikes stabbing his back threatening to pierce his lungs.

The sound of the creaking metal made him expect the worst, a certain end. At least he wouldn't have to feel that pain for much longer. If he had enough strength left he'd even press back, so that everything would be over sooner. But, unlike what he'd expected, the spikes didn't slide deeper into his flesh, on the contrary. They were agonizingly pulled back.

Biting down his lip until it bled, he made his best to endure the excruciating torture in silence, the image of what had happened in that small dark room when he'd screamed still terrifyingly present in his mind. And he'd screamed again … The thought of it, and of what had probably happened to those outside, turned his empty stomach upside down.

A loud clang echoed inside the box and then the door was opened.

Fresh, blood scented air filled his nose and he stumbled outside, almost falling, but his knees refused to buckle. Legs shaking, his feet hurting, his back burning, he staggered blindly and dizzily beneath the bright light of the sun. The sound of voices and gasps of surprise reached his ears. Words like 'kid' and 'child' echoing meaninglessly in his tired, feverish brain. The pain … the pain was so intense, so unbearable, that all he wanted was to be able to drift into one of those foggy dreams from before and simply forget. At least back then, no matter what they did to him, everything was washed a way by that white, misty haze.

A dark shadow stepped towards him and he immediately stumbled back, looking around, or trying to do so, unable to focus his blurry vision. That's right! There were people around him! People he had to escape from as soon as possible! Escape before they could grab him and tie him up, and hold him somewhere where they could bleed him to death.

Mindlessly turning left and right, he tripped on his bȧrė feet and almost fell again. He didn't know why or how he was still able to stand. And then, amongst all those unknown dark shadows, he saw what could only be called a monster. His heart immediately broke into a panicking beating, threatening to crush his ċhėst and break free from its prison of flesh and bone. Whatever it was it was huge, the darkness it was made of restless like a dark cloud of wind, the cold, deadly feeling emanating from it freezing what little blood he had left, running through his veins.

He stepped back, wanting to escape it, not knowing how he'd be able to accomplish such a feat. Something deep inside him, a kind of instinct he'd never felt before, told him he had to escape now or he'd be forever doomed. Somehow, simply looking at that monster made of darkness was worse than any pain he'd ever had to endure, worse than death itself. The subjugating force pouring out of it in thick waves was enough to shatter his entire being.

Suddenly his knees finally gave in and he fell on them, hard, the shock of the fall echoing through his entire body all the way to his head. He could hear shouts and angry voices at a distance, and when he raised his head the monster was right there, in front of him, threatening to devour him. Had it caught up with him? It wasn't as if he'd had any hopes of escaping it, he thought in resignation when two bright blue eyes the color of the sky above his head stared down at him. He felt so hot, so sick, so ill that even the pain in his back seemed to have faded away. Closing his eyes he took a deep, ragged breath and bent forward, wishing for nothing more but a good night's sleep, and pressed his forehead against the booted feet of the one standing right before him, waiting to devour him.

"Nox!!" the fearful shout that pierced through ZaiWin's mind was registered an instant too late.

The moment that child's forehead touched his feet it was as if someone had glued his boots to the ground, making it impossible for him to move. The bright, silver circle of markings that surrounded them effortlessly threw everyone else back, including ZenTar, who, having fallen on his buŧŧ, quickly sprang to his feet again, trying his best to reach him, but clearly unable to breach the bright, beautiful array of sacred markings now covering the ground.

Eyes widening in disbelief, heart drumming painfully in his ċhėst, ZaiWin looked down at the scrawny, bloody, nȧkėd child kneeling at his feet and, as he'd already guessed, although he still couldn't believe his own eyes, his blood-covered back started to glow as well, until a pair of beautiful, bright silver wings rose from the mass of blood , the markings forming them glistening delicately under the bright sun. Immediately his entire body started to burn, from his back all the way to his shoulders and down his arms, forcing him to bite the interior of his mouth to withstand the burning pain in silence.

The gasps of disbelief that surrounded him, and the sound of men reverently kneeling, made him curse. And then the frail wings of light on the boy's back dissolved into a thin silvery dust that simply disappeared, as if blown away by some unseen breeze, the array beneath his feet contracting around the child that had cast it until it was gone as well. The bloody body at his feet fell to one side, the boy clearly unconscious, his breathing labored and ragged and, for a long moment, that was the only sound that filled the air.

When he tried to step back his legs shook, the world tilting dangerously, until a supporting hand held him firmly by an arm.

"Are you okay …?" ZenTar's familiar voice whispered, carefully, and he nodded, still looking at the child at his feet.

"A Celestial …" someone murmured, his voice filled with respect and devotion, and similar whispers immediately followed.

"Can you stand on your own?" ZenTar whispered, to which he nodded in reply, and then he was gone from his side.

He heard him talk to the other men, ordering them to stand up, rounding them up, commanding them to shut their mouths and wait for him by the main entrance of the fortress; threatening them with a painful death should they utter a single word about what had happened until he met with them again. All of that useless, he knew, still looking at the child. Nothing in the world, no amount of threats or killing, would ever be able to keep something like what had just happened a secrete. Even if they were to kill every man alive in that damned fortress.

He couldn't say how long he stood there, looking at the boy, before ZenTar returned to his side.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, that apprehensive, worried tone still permeating his voice, and he simply nodded.

With a sigh ZenTar knelt down and was about to grab the boy when, as if by magic, his body was finally released from the immobilizing spell that had held him in place.

"Don't!" he commanded with more fierceness than he'd intended. ZenTar looked up at him, unable to understand, and he sighed again, forcing his still shaky legs to bend. "Don't touch him. You can't touch him …" Even though he didn't want to say those words they still left his lips and, with a new sigh, he grabbed the boy, picking him up, and, with unsteady steps, finally made his way down of that damned wall.