Moving On (Private/Solo)

Mt. Hakobe experienced a perpetually harsh and innocent winter that only paused and never ceased. Its skies were never clear, always overcast with clouds, and its snow was never dry. Always wet and great for getting frostbitten. The only means of living around here was cutting and selling ice, of all things, in the settlements, and the people weren't happy. Ahote hated this place—and yet here he was.

The lonely sound of a single pair of boots trudging through the snow, feeling it pack and crunch beneath his heels, Ahote walked across the empty and desolate Mt. Hakobe all alone. He wasn't in his most usual form, his normally short, brown hair now long, thin, silver, and his skin pale. He was most fragile in this state and oftentimes avoided venturing out farther than he had to. It was, perhaps, an absurd idea to travel all the way to Mt. Hakobe from Capital Crocus then, since the journey even when he was most animated could be exhausting. But he came to see someone, and he figured that if he didn't do it today, he'd lose something important.

Deserted and forlorn, in the approaching distance was a gravestone. "Famine", it read. It was the only object that protruded out from the mountain for what looked like miles—small and alone.

"Afternoon, mother." said Ahote, standing close to the gravestone but far away enough to see its entirety in his view. "It's been a very. . . very long time since I've seen you. And like this, to add. . ." With a heavy, burdened sigh, Ahote leaned down to place a bouquet of flowers. They were a combination of lilies and orchids, but they were all a creamy, innocent white. Ahote frowned. "I wish we could've met under. . . different circumstances, but. . . well, I guess there's no point in wishing for something different now that it's happened, yes?" he chuckled, but his face wasn't smiling. There were long pauses in between each of his words, and before he could say something else, he took small and yet deep breaths each time.

Ahote removed his hat from his head, letting the gentle snowfall slowly collect on his scalp. The feeling of the snowflakes silently melting against his hair was a tingling sensation he didn't miss but found easy to succumb to its nostalgia. "We used to talk a lot, but I think this will be the last time. Yes. . . I think it is." Ahote explained, images of Boomslang and his companions suddenly came to mind. "When you and Sol left this place, I had to take on your burdens as a leader myself and I wasn't even prepared for it. And you raised me right, so I could handle it, but—" he began to look dejected, and maybe somewhat indignant, "—it felt like you and Sol and everyone else who left could make their own choices except for me. The training, the isolation, the enemies I grew up with—I didn't choose to have any of that. And as if that wasn't enough, you decide to let yourself off easy with death and let me deal with the aftermath? I almost hate you for it. . . almost, I suppose. But I don't. You weren't a good parent, but it takes more than this for a child to hate their mother. And to be candid, I think I. . . I think I did a good job. I did everything I could. I tried my best. . . but. . ."

Ahote felt his equilibrium begin to rupture and his composure falters, but the most he allowed to show was a tremble in his voice.

". . .Needless to say, we've disbanded now. After a rather goody fellow destroyed our fortress, I decided to stop there. For a moment, I tried continuing our legacy a while longer, but it didn't work out. Nothing ever does." Ahote sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose with visible melancholy and difficulty in maintaining composure, "You don't know of it, but I started a club in Capital Crocus of all places. I'm still wanted by the Council, but I've been living a quiet life without trouble. But—you know—this whole. . . death thing and Basilisk Fang thing. . . it's like pieces of me are still trapped on this mountain. . . and, I. . ."

Sniffle.

Ahote finally began to weep. His cheeks were red with tears and his ears blushed as a result. His ears always got red when he cried. The Coming Storm and former Guildmaster's face was suddenly overwhelmed with a sympathetic softness distinct only to Ahote. He held his arm to press into both of his eyes, but the pressure made him weep even more.

"I've created a place from my own resolve—my own choice. And shit! I've made friends that I'm certain I'd be lost without! They're the only ones who stuck by my side! They didn't leave when shit got tough! They aren't weak like you or Sol or Yuiisai or anyone else who left! Here you are, six feet under, but while I bet you feel free right about now, I'm the one that's suffocating! Are you listening, Mom?! I'm SUFFOCATING!" Ahote croaked at the gravestone, gripping his chest through his garments now, and his cries softer and quieter than the outburst before, ". . .It feels terrible, Mom—knowing you haven't failed but feeling like you're a failure. Seeing everyone move on except me. What am I supposed to do? There are pieces of me here and I don't know how to retrieve them. I can't turn back time, and I don't want to. . . I hate this mountain and I don't want to come back here again. . ."

For a long time, Ahote stood there, hovering over the gravestone and weeping like he did when he first killed a man. He remembered it vividly. He had bashed his skull in with a stone, and he couldn't handle what he had done to him, so he left to sob in his mother's arms. He remembered her cold embrace, but to him, it was the warmest thing on Mt. Hakobe. It took a moment, but he eventually regained enough composure to speak clearly.

". . .so I won't. I'm sorry for getting emotional, but it just sort of happens when you have these things piling up on you, I suppose." he looked up at the sky, grey with clouds, watching the snow flutter to the planet, "I deserve to breathe, Mother. In fact, I've earned it. All of these burdens, this weight I've been shouldering for years. . . I guess once I leave this place, I'll leave this behind too, you know? I suppose me coming here was for more myself than for you. I'll always have to live with the memory of you, after all—me visiting your gravesite doesn't make a difference." Ahote chuckled again, but this time, he smiled ever so weakly.

He had stopped crying now, although his face was still red and wet from the tears. His eyes were a little red, and his nose was completely blushed. But, the heaviness he had worn seemed to wash away with the tears, and suddenly, he felt lighter.

"I've started smoking a little bit, and I actually detest alcohol, as it turns out. But the friends I've made, however, seem to love it so. What's more, I also own a bar. Funny how these things work out, huh? In any case, I hear a new guild has taken over this mountain, so I better see myself out quite soon, Mother. As for these friends—" he smiled, "—I'll never say it to their faces, but I love them deeply. They're all alcoholics, and there is a new one joining our clique, it seems. His music. . . it's fantastic. I wish you could hear it, but I'd never tell him that myself either, heh. Regardless, I'm so used to you all leaving, so when they stuck around, I just—you know—I don't know. Your life was full of anger and hardship, Mother, and mine isn't so different. But I bet if you had people as. . . as fantastic and loyal as them, then maybe we could be talking in person right now, I guess."

Ahote wiped his face again, rambling to the gravestone about things he's seen and people he met since Basilisk Fang's disbandment. It went on for quite a while, and the only thing that kept him from keeping on was the familiar frostbite that kissed his fingers.

"Oh," Ahote paused, noticing this, "I guess it really is time to leave. To leave. . . everything. Even the pieces of myself I was talking about earlier. I. . . I have a feeling that I won't need them to feel whole again. I bet that sounds sort of cheesy, now doesn't it? In any case—" he put his hat on again, smiling a smile that he only wore when he was much younger. He began to turn around.

"Goodbye, Famine. I know your life wasn't perfect, but I hope you died happy. I know I'm going to make sure I do."

With that, Ahote left. His troubles, his Mother, his guild. He left a lot of things, but he walked away smiling.

Walking down the snow-covered alps of Mt. Hakobe, Ahote could see the settlements in the near distance. It was nostalgic, and Ahote half-wanted to go and meander through the streets, but he knew what his presence meant to those settlers. If the people he had coexisted with still remained, he would have no warm welcome. In fact, it was likely that rocks would be tossed at him. But after visiting Famine's gravestone just earlier this day, he wasn't in the headspace to tolerate the resentment. Any other day would have been fine, Ahote thought. But not today.

Seeing the settlement didn't stop his remincising, however. He began to recall instances from the past as he trudged away from it.

It had been a week and a few days since Ahote had last visited the settlement due to the incident. The murder of Angus, a fate brought upon the older man by Ahote. Even after his talk with Famine, even after his doubts and qualms had seemingly had been resolved and his confidence in himself restored, it didn’t make it any easier to return to the village after his sudden disappearance. The boy worried about whether the villagers had planned to attack him or not, and became afraid that he may not be able to defend himself anymore than Angus could against him. An understandable worry most would agree to, but Ahote had been unusually calm for the situation he was so sure about for reasons unknown to him himself. Maybe it because he now knew he was capable of killing a man or that he was able to defend himself when he knew he was being picked on. As gross and upsetting this realization may be, Ahote came closer and closer in realizing that if you can’t change the world, you must change yourself. These thoughts stuck close to the boy, but he was nervous that maybe he hadn’t changed and that this was always a part of him.

The thought wasn’t as disturbing to him now than it had been during his isolation, and became more like food for thought than a qualm. It wasn’t this that disturbed him, no. It was a deeper, darker revelation that shook his core. A question than rang in his ears, that woke him from his slumbers and left him frightened when facing his parents. Did he enjoy it? The copper smell of the blood that covered his fingers that day, the pleasant struggle breaking bone and the almost erotic feeling of power over Angus’s life seeping out of his old, decaying body and into the snow. When Ahote reimagined the scene during daylight and relived the murder in his nightmares, his cheeks became hot, nose and ears becoming red with blood, and felt his gut sink. But were they really nightmares? Ahote pondered this every day since the murder, and felt unsettled since. He didn’t know why, but he despised himself for feeling the way he did about the murder. He despised himself for shedding no tears and vomiting only once. He hated himself for worrying more about his mother’s forgiveness over the actual crime he committed, and was left thinking he was less human than he was before this whole mess.

Ahote sauntered down the snowy hill in long, tiring strides. It had occurred to him that the item he meant to retrieve on the day of the murder was never taken, and left to collect dust for the last week and a half. As anxious as he was to enter the settlement again with judging, prying eyes and scowls of disgust, he did have to eventually come down to get his products and get jobs from clients. He pushed himself to confront the inevitable as opposed to hiding in his room with his books and thoughts, but that didn’t stop him from being reluctant about it.

The chilly winds blew past him, kissing his cheeks and making his nose and ears red with blood, as they usually did when he was cold or flustered. In the near distance was the settlement, lanterns lit and cabin fireplaces burning even brighter. It was a cozy settlement, a warm place from the looks of it but welcomed few. Well, from Ahote’s experiences, welcomed no Basilisks, or mages for that matter. He never talked to any of the settlers enough to understand why this was or talked to his parents about it. It became a quiet, unspoken rule that persons of that nature were not welcomed, what a small world.

Ahote took deep breaths and stalked through the deep snow and into the settlement, the usual old man who patronized him no longer sitting on the crates that never moved. Although the blood that dyed the snow was no longer visible underneath a fresh blanket of snow, the disgusting odor of copper remained. The boy would pause and stare into the white, icy flakes of snow, sighed, and continued to move forward towards a tavern in the center of the settlement.

As usual, the tavern building radiated heat from the fires and wreaked of alcohol, specifically vodka and beer. - Really strong stuff. So, knowing this, Ahote always asked for his requested products to be placed in a storage building on the outskirts of the settlement, but because it was nearing its limit he had make do. It didn’t help that the men and women who normally hung out here were tough and ten times bigger than the barely five-foot-six teen. Despite this, he knew that the faster he got his stuff, the faster he could leave. Knowing this, he walked up the creaky steps and into the tavern he his thick, wool coat, long pants and leather boots.

Ahote closed the door behind him, and nobody glanced away from their beer, their conversations or their women. Luckily for Ahote, he had appeared to have gone unnoticed. He had only been in the tavern a few times, those times being swift and brief. He never got a chance to actually look around and take it all in, not like this anyway.

The boy walked over to the counter, behind it was a shelve of drinks and glasses. The man attending it was named Rufus, a stocky, bearded man who spoke very little. Both he and Ahote seemed to get along like any other guy, but wondered if his opinion of him changed since the incident. With that in mind, Ahote tapped the wooden countertop to draw in Rufus’s attention. “Can you hand me an item I requested? It’s a white flower sent here about a week and a half ago. . . thanks.” Ahote sputtered in his usual quiet, soft voice.

”Oh, that? Yeah, wait here one second. Gotta find it among other things, might take a minute or two” Rufus responded in his rough, guttural voice as he stomped off to the backroom, which Ahote assumed to be a storage room, to retrieve his plant sample.

Understanding that it would take some time knowing Rufus’s organization problems, the raven-haired boy slid onto a stool and leaned over the counter, waiting patiently. Looking around, he never noticed the tavern’s little details. Like the wood the tables were made out of and how the rugs were actually bear hides. That the tavern was lit mostly off of lanterns as opposed to candles, and how beneath the smell of booze was the odor of sweat and bad breath. It was an unpleasant place for Ahote to be, he thought, but was unusually warm. He kept his hood on in order to conceal his face, and wished to speak to no one as he patiently waited.

Ever since the day her host family in Magnolia passed, Katherine had sought vengeance against Basilisk Fang. The guild was the ultimate reason for their deaths and she couldn't forgive them for it. Not until she did something. They had taken from her a part of her family, the only thing no person should ever touch.

Her journey had been long, lasting nearly a year at most; and though she knew perfectly her objective, she had no knowledge of the guild itself. Over the course of the last week, the weather grew about as cold and as numb as she did walking up to Mt. Hakobe. Knowing vaguely the reputation the guild had in the nearby settlement, she never expected to let herself be seen. She decided against finding a room to stay in, instead opting for a secluded space between two shops where she thought no one would find her. Katherine settled herself snuggly into a corner, attempting to save what body heat she still had left. The girl removed her shredding gloves and lit a small flame in the palm of her hands. She thought it might be enough to keep her warm without being noticed. As she sat in the alley and the snow fell gently around her, the tiny white flakes landed on her eye lashes and melted on contact. She thought about the events leading up to this moment and how, some of them were beautiful just the same as the flurries that fell from the sky, while others... She didn't want to think about those. For so long she had lived ignorant of her past and after learning what she could about it, she had never felt the same. She felt more lost than she when she first woke up, only this time because she finally knew what she was missing so desperately. A tear struggled to make its way down her cold, flushed cheek, finally dripping into the light in her hands and fizzling. For a moment she shut her eyes and took much needed breath, but when she opened them...

From the darkened window in front of her appeared a pair of eyes, staring. Startled, Katherine extinguished her flame and sat quietly crouched, watching the person behind the glass. From her left side, a hand roughly gripped her arm and yanked her up and out toward the street. She stumbled through the sudden change and fell ass-first onto the ground and into a crowd of extremely angry looking citizens. Her palms burned against the snow, her back aching from the fall. She shook off the frost and stood before them warily. She took in the people around her, looking prepared to beat her if they must...and her mind strayed to what little memories she had of her childhood. The scars that laid scattered across her back burned at the recollection, just as they had when the wounds were still fresh. Her first instinct was to run and so, that was exactly what she did. Or rather...tried to do. Katherine couldn't get very far before she was caught and held back. Never had she felt as helpless as she did then. She fought them all she could, but they were much too strong and she was too cold to muster any of her own strength. She pushed away, they pulled her right back into the thrall, gripping and groping and tugging at all they could. One hand thread itself through her hair, clamped its fingers around the fiery red strands and yanked. Katherine knew she couldn't fight them, she wasn't at her best and so she screamed.

Rufus's promised minute became several minutes as Ahote waited patiently at the bar's counter, twisting left and right in his stool to physically occupy himself after realizing that Rufus was more disorganized than he said he was. But the boy did not mind, as he did enjoy getting out of the fortress for some fresh, icy air.

Ahote had been here at Basilisk Fang for years now, spending most of his childhood under the supervision of his adoptive parents, Sol and Famine. Since his arrival, he wasn't allowed to leave Mt. Hakobe, much less the fortress, without consent or some sort of escort. Frankly, the boy tired of that silly rule, for his hunger to explore the world was stronger than the respect he had for his mother's decision. Of course, he felt relatively bad about going behind his parents’ backs, but in doing so he was able to relish different parts of the world that would otherwise be unknown to him.

He peered over his shoulder to take a better look at people who were drinking and eating, realizing that most of them were unfamiliar faces and were all quite fit. It was more of a surprise that none of them seemed to recognize him, which he supposed was a good thing. Regardless, he didn’t let down his guard. If anything, observing everyone drink and laugh left Ahote feeling rather thirsty, but decided not to ask for anything since he would only be here as long as Rufus would be looking for his flower.

Ah, this sucks. . . and here I thought I could rest easy for once. I guess I’ll have to come back here whenever I’m accepted. Sitting down for some food besides bread and rice sounds nice. . . He thought to himself, disappointed in his only option was to remain idle. It wasn’t like Ahote purposefully isolated himself, but “his kind” wasn’t appreciated anywhere, even if his guild did own the settlements. Really he wondered if most of his problems would go away if he informed Famine on the matters and concluded that they most likely would. But as shy and soft spoken as the boy was, he did have some dignity he wanted to maintain. He didn’t want to be known as the boy who scrambled home in tears to his formidable mother.

With that in mind, thoughts similar to it followed. I really am a wimp, huh. . .? Ah, man. . . Ahote ran both hands through his hair, leaning down and beginning to sulk. I’d ought to make myself out to be a man, not a boy. . . it’s about time I think like an individual and not a kid for once, hm. . . The boy pondered, realizing that maybe he wasn’t so independent as he thought. - Not independent, just alone. Because he was always alone, he often had to make decisions for himself. But it was always the little things, like what he was going to eat, wear, where to go on Mt. Hakobe. But as far as he was concerned, it was the adults that confined him to the fortress, to this mountain, told him what to think and how to think it, and didn’t lie to him but withheld information. Ahote held no malice or ill will towards his parents or the adults associated with them, but detested their intention of keeping him ignorant. He was determined to unveil the truth, even if the veil itself was thorny and dangerous.

Rufus eventually returned to Ahote with a glass jar containing soil, water, and a rare flower in his large hands. ”This is what you wanted, right? I almost dropped it.” Rufus grunted, sliding the jar over to the raven haired boy. On that note, Ahote smiled and dipped his head in thanks to his friendly acquaintance, taking the jar and stuffing it into his bag, which was obscured under the many layers of clothing he had worn, tucked it back into his coat and began to exit the tavern without so much a word and into the snowy mountains.

As usual, Ahote’s footprints seemed to instantly begin to be covered by a new layer of snow, knowing how quickly the process took action in this area. It was always something interesting for the boy to observe, but also strangely saddening. The idea that your presence disappeared as quickly as they appeared, leaving you and you alone knowing who walked these mountains. How many other have walked these roads before him? What stories would their footprints tell? Sometimes Ahote had felt so alone with his thoughts that he started wondering about the history of trivial things, hoping it’d provide some food for thought and occupy his mind before he moved on to the next thing.

The boy began to follow the same trail back home, before something of interest became apparent just ahead of him. A woman with bright, red locks had the hands of brute holding her by that same beautiful hair. Ahote paused and stopped sauntering through the snow, trying to figure out what the situation was and quickly came to an answer as she screamed. But unlike most hero-wannabes, Ahote did not rush into the situation blindly. He continued to walk in their direction with tired, dark eyes and his head down but eyes locked right on the two. His pace was faster than before and his body trembled just lightly, realizing the size difference.

Ahote stopped in front of the much taller, buffer brute and looked up at him with an indifferent expression. ”You know, it’s kind of low to attack someone without so much as a reason, much less if said person is an unarmed woman. . .” He began, eyes drifting to the woman who struggled to break free. ”You need to let go of her and get going, sir. . .”

The brute glared at Ahote, ”Get outta here, brat. This ain’t none of your business, ‘less you wanna get hurt too!” the man pushed him. Of course, Ahote returned the glare and continued to maintain his position.

”Don’t touch me. . . now please put her down, sir. . . I’m not leaving until you do.” Ahote’s voice became more demanding and agitated, his guard becoming tighter as the man would pause.

”Guess I’ll have to beat ya too, you brat!” He shouted, lunging his free hand at what would look like a helpless boy. Ahote knew how this would go. He would brawl with this man and suffer an inevitable defeat, but said brute would lose interest and leave the two be. This is how fights always went in his mind, since no one he knew was so cruel that’d they kill a kid. But was the kid cruel enough to kill a man? Ahote winced when feeling the man’s knuckles press against his left cheek, but what was surprising was that he felt very little. Only a quick jolt of a stinging pain, but not quite the physical impact that brought him to his knees.

Huh? This is strange. I knew that he punched me, and yet. . . - . . .!!! Ahote’s thoughts were interrupted upon opening his orangish-gold eyes and seeing the man engulfed in magenta flames. The same flames that consumed his left arm long ago and was replaced with a metal, prosthetic arm. Ahote’s eyes widened in horror in watching the man quickly scream and rolled on the ground, having released the woman, distracted by his own agony.

”GYAAAAH!!!” The brute cried, feeling his skin succumb to the heat and melt away like wax did under a lit wick. Ahote froze, and realized what he had done. No blood had been spilt, no weapons had been pulled, but he knew what the man was going through having experienced it himself. He knew the pain and horror he was enduring. And yet the boy shed no tears, offered nothing to vomit and instead watched in a silent horror. He knew that he would not stop suffering until he would eventually die, until the flames ate him whole. It would be a slow, painful, vocal death until he could no longer scream and the overwhelming heat of the flames would evaporate his tears before he could shed them. Instantly, a rush of memories were recalled. Memories of the incident when he was seven, and only then did Ahote begin to hold his stomach uncomfortably, and felt himself beginning to hyperventilate.

I did this. . . he’s going to DIE because of ME. He’s going to die. . . because of me. . . I told him not to touch me, he deserved this, all of this! He needed to suffer the way he intended to make her suffer. . . but. . . I. . . I. . . Ahote felt the horror settle in, the grief, the anger. It didn’t hit him as hard as the first time did, but the grim reminder and abrupt awakening of this dormant terror left him feeling ill and frightful. He needed to tell Famine about this when he got the opportunity. Of all things, he didn’t want this to be kept secret. He was far too afraid of what may happen to him should he keep them, wizards, in the dark of something magical.

Ahote mustered up the strength to look away from the now silent and burning man on the ground, turning to the red headed broad. ”Can we talk?” Ahote spoke in his usual quiet, soft voice, his eyes full of regret and sadness. But like Angus, this, what Ahote would call another murder, felt strangely pleasant to him. The idea of a cruel and dirty man paying a painful price for what he was about to do felt just to him. The boy had hoped he wasn’t developing sadistic tendencies, but one could only hope for so long.

At some point the abuse came to a pause, but she was much too out of it to notice what had happened. She heard voices, muffled noise through her dizziness, but at that moment her only concern was getting warm again and so she ignored it, silently trying to start up some kind of flame from underneath her cloak, to no avail. Damn this weather..., she thought, and even in her mind she was shivering. The man gripping her by her hair suddenly released her and she collapsed to her knees listening in then as the man began screaming. And then... somebody spoke to her.

Katherine stared blankly at the boy before her, having barely heard his question, but nodding all the same. She was grateful that he had stopped her attackers but she couldn't quite place how he had done it... Or why. The whole event was muddy inside her head, and all she could really comprehend was the pain. Her head was plagued by a pounding headache and her already faulty eyesight was evermore blurred from the watering of her eyes. Her thoughts were foggy and scrambled, not to mention disoriented from the lack of warmth in her body. Oh, she was so cold... At this point, even if she really wanted to she wouldn't have been able to conjure the tiniest flicker through her pinky's tip. Katherine cursed under her breath as she followed what she could see of the boy. A fuzzy, colorless silhouette standing out starkly against the blinding snow.

Suddenly she pulled from her mind what she had heard him say subconsciously. He wants to talk? Why? She could understand some sort of curiosity, as she could only assume that he had never seen her before, but what... Is he a member of that guild?, she asked herself. She wanted to further ponder the idea, only her energy had been zapped so completely that she could hardly think. Only one thing filled her mind...

heat...heat...heat...

Ahote couldn't quite pin down what had happened between the woman and the ruffian and frankly spent more time than needed in hopes that he could figure it out. The conclusions he came to was that she was either a mage or provoked the ruffian. Of course, he wasn't going to request a chat with her to satisfy his curiosity. She was clearly freezing, tired and witnessed something horrific. Ahote was more concerned with her well being if anything.

He walked over to the barely conscious woman who laid tired and helpless in the snow next to a burnt and charred corpse with magenta flames cackling on its burnt skin, leaning down and cupping her cheek in his hand. Ah. . . she's an icicle. I guess it's only natural that someone would become like this if you weren't used to it. . . well, there's only one thing to do. Ahote thought to himself before he unbuttoned his thick, woolen coat, lifted the red headed woman to sit upright and wrapped it around her. "Everything's gonna be just fine, okay? Lets get you warmed up. . ." Ahote mumbled with a weak smile, though felt very little joy in the moment. If anything, he was relieved in the fact she was okay and was capable of recovering if she was warmed up quickly.

"You can barely move, huh? Alright, lets go. . ." Ahote insisted, wrapping her arm around his shoulder and dragged on most of her weight as the two slowly faltered through the snow and into the outskirts of the settlement, away from prying eyes and any other ruffians who may have been lurking. Eventually after several minutes of walking and limping, the pair arrived at a lone, smaller cabin covered in snow with a group of stacked crates and barrels on its side. Ahote had been quite familiar with this cabin and quickly made way inside, escaping Mt. Hakobe's treacherous, chilly winds and even chillier snow. His cheeks, nose, and ears lit up red upon entering the building's darkness.

Inside the wooden building would be several shelves holding an assortment of jars, boxes, bottles and other items all labeled and organized, an unlit fireplace with chairs and a wooden table surrounding it. Ahote sat here by himself and read books far too many times to count and was excited to be hosting a guest.

Ahote sat the woman down on a chair and went over to a drawer, scavenging inside of it before pulling out a box of matches. "If you're awake, we're in the storage room.
I'm the only one who really comes here, so you're safe. Wait just a moment and I'll get the fire running." He affirmed, flicking the match's tip against the side of the box and into the dry logs settled inside the fireplace. With deep and heavy blows, the fire was quick to light and soon shared its heat with everything inside. Following that, Ahote went around the room lighting candles, some smelling of pine and other being standard wax candles and began to rummage through cabinets, grab tea leaves and began to prepare it.

Minutes of silence came and went as the boy did his best to warm his guest up, lots on his mind. There were times he forgot she was there from her quiet breaths and the overall silence between them. Sometimes he was far too used to being alone with his thoughts that it was unusual to feel the company of others.

Ahote wrapped a pair of metal and fleshy fingers around the hooks of two teacups and made way back over to the woman, placing the hot and aromatic on the table in front of her, the boy taking a seat on the opposite side of her. "Oolong tea. I'm no tea expert, but it's hot and you need to drink it and warm up." Ahote mumbled, sipping his share of the beverage before placing it on a coaster in front of him.

"Are you feeling any better. . .?" Ahote raised his head and looked at the woman, fascinated with her extravagant locks. She was quite fair, but he was more curious than fascinated.

Her body was numb, as was her mind, but so much so that she could barely feel the movement of her own body as she was carried through the snow. It frustrated her how easily she could become so weak. Although... she could gradually feel her temperature rising, getting warmer with each second. Suddenly, she could hear a voice, though muffled. Her vision was becoming clearer and she could see what looked like a storage room and in front of her... a fireplace. Oh, god a fireplace. She felt it might have been a dream. The heat that it fed to the room seeped into her body, slowly reviving her and she could see clearly again. Well, as clear as she could with her blind-eye. She blinked and took a deep breath, letting the warm air course through her lungs and then back out through her nostrils. She gripped the coat she realized was wrapped around her from the inside, feeling the thick wool hug her fingertips.

"Are you feeling any better...?"

Katherine switched her repaired gaze to the boy sitting next to her. Now that she could finally see him well enough, she realized how young he looked. Not like a child, per say, but not nearly an adult as she had been for... quite some time. Much too long perhaps.

"Y-yes... B-better, thank y-" She stopped herself, agitated that wasn't able to speak properly. She sat with furrowed eyebrows, and looking down noticed a cup of tea before her. She reached stiffly to grab it, wrapping her shaking hands around its curves and sighing as she felt the warmth seep through her palms. She watched her reflection on the surface of the drink, blinking as her face turned into wobbly strips of fleshy watercolor in the liquid. Her hands were shaking more than they usually did. She frowned as deeply as she could, which showed as more of a subtle grimace, and tried to make them stop before realizing she might risk holding the cup too tightly. She decided to ignore the quivering and instead form a coherent sentence, just as an attempt to be respectful at the least. "Ahem... Thank you, f-for saving me from those..." People? Could she even call them that after the way they had treated her? But she had to consider this; perhaps they just didn't take well to mages in their territory. Katherine couldn't deny them their humanity, no matter how old-fashioned she might be. It wasn't acceptable, even for her.

She felt for a moment that she might be due to explain herself.

"Ah...I, I would have fought back of course, I'm not helpless. I just...my magic doesn't work well in the cold, so..." The woman stopped herself mid-ramble and looked into his eyes. "Thank you. Honestly."

The raven haired boy would quietly observe the woman revive from his state of numbness and distress, letting his mind wander. He stared at into his hot beverage, unsure if he enjoyed it’s toasty and grassy flavor. He wasn’t quite sure how to correctly prepare tea, well, not this type anyway. It was a topic he would have to ask Yuiisai about, since he seemed much more well informed when it came to these type of beverages, or maybe being a proper host in general. The boy pressed his lips against the teacup’s edge and let the hot tea slip into his system, warming his cold cheek and making him feel warm inside. Personally, he was more of a coffee person.

Ahote slunk back into his chair and sighed, averting his gaze from the woman and into the cackling flames resting on the hearth. The heat pressing against his red cheeks, an orange, flickering light reflecting in his orange-gold eyes, and looking into that dangerous pit of ember did Ahote find himself reflecting. He did his best to distract himself with this most recent incident, and felt himself slowly become guilty in knowing he’d have to tell Famine about it. However, he wasn’t nearly as frightful of this than he was before, but did feel an anxiousness swell up in his chest understanding that his previously dormant and dangerous magic was the cause of this murder, which only seemed to be a foreboding harbinger.

Those flames. - My magic. I suffered no injuries or any physical difficulty, for that matter. . . other than minor burns. I feel them on my chest, my wrist. . . otherwise. . . I. . . Ahote thought, only discomforting himself in the epiphany of his magic destructive power., if it was his magic. It had been dormant for so long and one of the scenarios in which he did use it resulted in amputation. It was an incident well known by all who attended his spar with his Father, Ahote shocking himself in his calmness. But was he really so calm? The boy slowly began to diverge from the idea that he may’ve been developing sadistic tendencies and instead. . . didn’t feel horrified in the act of killing, and felt more disturbed in how and why he did so. Ahote’s deep and thorough analysis of his own actions only created a foundation of paranoia for him, he knew this. He did his best to distract himself with the woman and would bring this up to his Mother at a later date.

Suddenly, Ahote’s own train of thought was interrupted by the soft and quiet words of the woman who sat across from him. Ahote lifted his head and and stared at her with tired eyes and a weary expression. ”You’re welcome. You should be more careful, you know? The men around here have the souls of jackals. . .” Ahote scoffed, knowing full well of what these men did to people outside of their circles. It was no laughing matter, but it was the only way he knew how to cope with the emotions he felt during those times within a conversation. The woman continued on about the situation, Ahote listening attentively with frosty ears. So she’s a mage? That’s. . . neat! I better ask her about stuff like that, may not get another chance. Ahote convinced himself, a weak smile cracking his face as he was fascinated with wizardry and magic and everything associated with it.

”Well, now that you’re awake, we can talk, right? I don’t mean to come off as impatient. But allow me to introduce myself, alright? I’m, uh, Ahote.” He jabbered, unsure of how to treat guests. He may’ve came off as patronizing with the strange reassuring “alrights”, but did his best to contain his excitement. Ahote’s eyes darted between the woman’s and the teacup, always having an issue with eye contact. Despite these quirky behaviors, he solemn attitude remained. He would like to have the first word with her for once aside from his parents, and was determined to make an impression.

"Ahote..." Katherine repeated his name, testing its feel as it rolled off of her tongue. As she listened to him and observed his behavior, she could tell he didn't have guests too often. He was kind to her, but nervously so. They'd only just met, by chance perhaps, but she didn't want him to feel uncomfortable with her. That feeling was odd and new...

"My name, it's Katherine." She spoke gently in an attempt to turn the atmosphere into one more forgiving. "And... You don't seem impatient. Just..." She looked into his eyes carefully, digging into the depths of their amber color. Moments later, she leant back in her seat and set the cup of tea down. "You have questions. You can ask them, I don't mind." The mage wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to keep in some of the warmth that had gathered inside the coat she wore.

She assumed then that it must be his, and even though she already wore her cloak, the looseness of it wasn't much for retaining heat. Her clothes were damp from the snow, too, but the fire helped some in its drying. All of this cold she had endured left gooseflesh risen on her bare skin and then she realized that something was missing. Her gloves, she'd dropped them. That happened to be her last pair too, but realistically, that shouldn't be what was on her mind in that moment.

She'd just been rescued by some kid named Ahote who, in her mind, appeared to be much younger than she was; (and that was ignoring the fact that she was probably too old to even still have a heartbeat). She felt pathetic at the thought. What had she thought would happen coming here? She'd been reckless to believe she could walk up to Hakobe in a practically naked state compared to anyone else that had been there. She should have- This is not the time for self-pity Katherine.

She sighed to herself and figured, if she could do anything to repay him, she would talk. At least for the time being she could manage to abandon her original goal. Which was... in most every way, not something she thought she would ever do. She wasn't the type to seek revenge, and yet, here she was; so, insanely close that she could taste it. She wasn't sure what she would do when she finally got to Basilisk Fang, and at this point she hoped there was only one thing that Ahote wouldn't ask her:

Why are you here?

Ahote was rather surprised in hearing that the woman’s name was Katherine, a name that seemed far from anything native to this area. Or, at least, he hadn’t met anyone with such a strange name. Following that, she reassured him of her comfort in answering his questions. The boy nodded and stirred a teaspoon in circles in his tea, staring into the ripples, ”Alright then, Katherine. What was that man attacking you for? I wouldn’t like to assume anything. . .” He queried, wanting to address the most recent situation before his other matters.

There was a lot he wanted to ask and knew what was in store for her if she were to stay around on the mountain beyond welcoming hours. If she sticks around for too long, perhaps Father will make way to her. There shouldn’t be any harm in restoring her health for the evening, however. . . all things seem well, I guess. He thought to himself, knowing that Sol did take pride in knowing all who visited this mountainous terrain. Ahote labeled him as a control freak and knew that he would eventually catch wind of the woman, especially since the murder occurred and a charred, black and bloody corpse lie there in the snow. Ahote felt himself grow weary in knowing he would eventually would have to confront Sol of his recent mental and emotional phenomenon that would drive him to murder on two occasions. It seemed that Katherine and Famine were the only ones aware of it, it seemed.

The thought boggled and filled his head, now questioning his own view on these violent acts. He couldn’t associate it with a feeling he experienced in the moment, but instead a deep drop in his gut that wouldn’t let up for days. His recent and first murder left him in tears, sick to the stomach and horrified, driving him to the point of shutting himself away in his room for a week. But even then, he was more horrified with the guilt of confronting his mother than the actual act itself. He didn’t stress over if it was the right thing to do, but if his mother would be able to accept and love him regardless of the murder, of the sudden change in her child.

But now? Now, Ahote was still quite horrified in watching life pass through a body, or perhaps the sight of coppery smell of blood, but wasn’t nearly as distraught as before. The drop in his gut remained in this incident, but he shed no tears, threw no vomit, or mourned the man’s painful and slow death. He didn’t quite know what he was feeling. Guilt? Sadness? Anger? Satisfaction? Horror? Shock? Indifference? The feeling deep inside his gut settled, and the boy was left in discomfort in trying to understand his own self. Softly and full of sadness and disappointment, Ahote smiled staring in his tea. Ah. . . what am I turning into?

"I... I've been traveling for about a week now." The woman began to think of some way she could explain how she'd gotten where she had without outing herself. "I know well the reputation of mages here..." She explained what had happened when she arrived in the settlement, how she'd thought she gone unnoticed when in reality...There had been someone watching her the whole time. That was how she got caught initially. Why the man had tried to harm her so severely was still lost to her, but as she talked quietly, she felt herself begin to play with a tiny yellow flame between her fingers. It acted almost the same as the field of two magnets when you tried to push the like ends together. The heat from it was especially faint, like the gentle touch a mother has with her child and the warmth of her embrace. It danced for her, waving its golden tip with every small movement she made. Katherine watched it intently and she calmer with every second and with every second it grew larger in her hand, it's color shifting as it did so from yellow to a warm, rosy pink. As she finished recalling the event as best she could, she sighed, looking up at the boy from beneath her eyelashes and pinching out the flame she'd been playing with.

"I am not from here, but I'm quite sure you already know that bit, don't you Ahote?" She thought she sounded much older then, like her own mother, or... What she could remember of her. "What else do you want to know?" Katherine looked up completely and smiled softly, hooking a chunk of her flaming hair behind her ear. It didn't exactly do much when she considered how long and choppy her bangs were, so she tried to push it back too, running her fingers through the strands and successfully getting most of them to stay in place. Several were still slipping their way down to her forehead, but she ignored them and waited patiently.

His expression kept changing, though it was mostly distress, and then suddenly he was smiling into his tea. What a strange kid... She thought. No one she had ever encountered had felt so many different emotions at once and then smiled after it all. Katherine happened to be quite observant too, and read people like she would have read books, if she could still remember how to anyway. She was watching him curiously now, her own smile having faded and her eyes squinted. He faltered.

"I know you aren't the one who just got rescued but... Are you alright yourself?"

Ahote listened carefully to the woman's replies, giving her his undivided attention. She spoke of her travels, and how she sought out mages of Mt. Hakobe. Ahote instantly thought of the mages of Basilisk Fang, seeing as they were the only ones on this mountain, including himself, who had such abilities. But what reputation? It wasn't surprising that the boy didn't know of his parents' and friends' infamy, having been sheltered his entire life. Unable to connect the dots, Ahote continued to listen in hopes that she would connect them for him.

Ahote pressed his right index finger and thumb against the shaft of the teaspoon, swirling it clockwise into the Oolong Tea which remained hot to the touch. Reputation? What reputation? Mother and Father haven't told me anything about. . . what they do outside of the mountain, or on their jobs. Though I've had the suspicion they haven't been doing anything that different than what I've done as of late. . . it just seems that way. Ahote thought to himself, staring blankly into the aromatic beverage.

Katherine continued on about her whereabouts, not underestimating him from how she spoke, before she concluded with her own concern of the boy. Shocked, Ahote raised his head from hanging low and simpered, nodding weakly, "Am I alright? Well, I guess you could say I'm alright, miss Katherine. Nothing to worry about, anyways. But I do have some more questions, if I may?" Ahote acknowledged, "How much do you know about the mages of this mountain? Have you come to see them?" The boy queried, mainly to satisfy his own curiosity. He wasn't quite sure who Famine and Sol were besides his parents, whom he loved dearly. But as mages? They were strangers. His simper remained friendly and warm, but felt quite solemn. He had hoped that she would answer honestly, as it was not a time he wished to be lied to again.

Miss? I'm fairly certain I don't look my real age... Only a few years his senior... Katherine was surprised by the manner in which he addressed her, she raised an eyebrow and pressed her lips. So formal and respectful; but what really bothered her, outside of the fact that she felt old again, was his question. How was she supposed to get out of this one? She couldn't be sure that he wasn't in someway affiliated with Basilisk Fang, so whatever she said could put her life at risk. Perhaps she could find a way to round out the harsh corners of this subject somehow...

"Um...I heard that there was guild here and..." Well, that was quite possibly the worst thing she could have said. For one, there were guilds set in every city she visited and second, what reason could actually she give? Ahote looked expectant. "Actually, that's not... I, um..." The mage sighed, and pinched the bridge on her nose between her eyes. There was a flaw with trying to keep this a secret; she hadn't foreseen being interrogated by a kid or saved by one. She'd been blinded by her thirst to have a purpose, to exact revenge on the one person she could remember harming her; even if it wasn't direct. Katherine was pulling quite the stunt at the moment, and she realized that she couldn't get herself out of it so... "I'm looking for Famine." She kept her eyes cast downward. "I need to speak with her about something... vital."

The woman did her best to keep hidden what exactly it was she wanted to confront the mage about, and felt good about that part. Famine had been the cause of her heftiest loss in the last year. She didn't know if what had happened was an accident or not, but adequate punishment was needed. No person should be able to get away with such a thing as murder, whether it is direct or not. She didn't know, but she wanted to.

Katherine could recall clearly that day. She'd gone out with her host's youngest daughter, shopping for her brother's birthday dinner. They'd been standing near a street drain at the time and a strange smell began to waft from beneath the grate. The water in the entire city had been contaminated. Throughout the week post, the girl's family fell ill; fatally so. There was no medicine that could cure them, that they could find or afford. They passed, and Katherine was left with their youngest daughter, alone. With what little money she had, the mage buried the family for the child, in the most beautiful part of the forest she could find. She didn't have any other family in the city, so Katherine took her along with her. It didn't... It didn't last long. The girl had gotten lost in the forest and for days she searched for her. Not a single trace was left behind and eventually, she had to give up looking. However, the last place that crossed her mind was the family's graves. It took her nearly a week's trip, but when she made it there... She found the girl, slumped against the large tree where they were buried. Her body was colorless and cold. She had died.

Katherine shuddered at the memory, chills running up and down her spine despite the warmth of the room.

It was an interesting experience to converse with Katherine, really. Most times when Ahote had a chance to meet someone new, his mother and father always seemed to be in the picture. Someway, somehow, they were there. Not that he minded his parents' presences, he just never had the opportunity to enjoy conversation with a stranger without there being some violent trial or interrogation. To others, those sort of events seemed exciting and twisted, but to the raven haired youth it was simply another day at home.

Ahote asked his question, but even after several seconds passed, silence remained between the two. Words did roll off her tongue and slip past her pale lips, but in fragments, never connecting into a full sentence. He now understood that the subject was a troubling one for her, and she was going through a number of ideas of how to handle the situation. Ahote knew this well, as it was a similar reaction he had experienced when on a difficult subject he didn't want to share his feelings on. He knew she was going to lie, and lie about it consistently. Surely, in her mind, there was no danger in doing so towards a stranger who was a younger boy. Ahote studied her thoroughly as she spoke, ready to decipher her next comments; but to his surprise, it was anything but a lie. In fact, she was rather blunt about it. Ahote couldn't find the words to talk for the brief silence in between.

Mother, huh? I didn't expect her to be so honest about it. Maybe that's a disadvantage on her part, giving such details to a stranger, especially after a stranger attacked her without so much a reason. She isn't quite bright, is she, huh? The boy thought to himself. Of course, he was curious and didn't worry for his mother's well being, but surely was curious in knowing the details.

"Vital, huh? Sounds pretty important. What have you heard about Famine? I hardly get a word from those jackals for settlers out there, barely know a thing about the mages who live on the mountain." Ahote queried, insisting that he was just as in the grey as she was. Clearly, he wasn't, being their son and protege. But to some extent, he really did not know anything about his family's business outside of the mountain or their reputations as mages. Even after the talk he had with Famine, he was still clueless.

The crimson-haired mage squinted her eyes in annoyance. He must think her to be an idiot. Perhaps her words hadn't been the best or the smoothest, but what other choice had she had? She'd never been a very good liar, so telling the truth was all that could save her ass. Katherine felt the sudden need to defend herself.

"You know... I was going to lie to you, but you seem the type to be able to weed that out. She leaned forward in her seat, letting the coat slide off of her shoulders as she rested her elbows on her knees. "In my defense, I'm not the best at speaking anything but the truth. However... I can deny you information. You seem quite intelligent, Ahote, and personally... I doubt you know nothing about that guild. Let alone Famine." Deep in her gut, she felt like she might be pushing her limits a little too far, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She felt like there was something off about him...

It had taken her too long to notice it and now she was wary. She could feel it just by sitting across from him. A tingling in her skin, just like... Magic. She should have known immediately, but she'd been too out of it, even when he'd touched her. He was a mage, and quite strong she must admit. There was no way in hell that he didn't know about the mages living on the mountain, he was one of them.

The heat of her frustration boiled in her veins and she pressed her lips together so tightly that they almost bled. In fact, they did a tiny bit, the harder she pressed. She tasted the copper seep though the cracks of her dry lips and absently wiped it away with the back of her hand, dragging some of it across her pale knuckles. She sighed heavily, wiping her hands down her face.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't...know." Her heart burned, begging her to let out her turmoil, but she wouldn't. "I can't believe this is happening..." She whispered. Heaving another sigh, she stood abruptly and stalked over to the fire. She shoved up her sleeves and stuck her hands into the flames. The pain was welcomed, the injury she was sure to receive was not a concern; she could heal it anyway, so what was the problem? Katherine needed something to distract her from the fact that she had ultimately just buried herself in a pit, so deep it was mere inches from being at the center of the earth. The fire was about as hot she imagined that would be.

She growled through clenched teeth, enduring the pain as she watched the flesh get fried off of her fingers. Hot tears leaked from her eyes then, and she forced herself to pull away, clenching her charred hands into fists. The skin began to regenerate immediately, but she knew it would take quite a while for this one to finish. She was glad then, that these kind of injuries didn't require her to do a full-body heal. She didn't have the energy to burst into flames at the moment.

Looking up at the Ahote through teary eyes, she spoke. "I don't think...you will ever...understand why...I just...did that...so to save you from your own curiosity..." Katherine stood up weakly and stared him down with what she hoped was as piercing of a gaze as she could manage in her current state. "I will leave. Right now." She swallowed hard, surprised by what she'd just said. He must think her to be insane and honestly... She couldn't tell if she was or not. Her mind had been scattered after she'd learned about her past just weeks prior.

Hesitantly, she took slow steps toward the door and somewhere in the back of her mind she thought... Please stop me. If I leave I'll surely die. Please stop me, please... Please... She wanted desperately to just stop being, but at the same time, she wanted to make up for her lost time. She'd only just met Ahote, and at the worst possible time too, but she wanted him to keep her there. In his storage room with the fire and the tea. She guessed that it might be because he looked so much like Alec... Oh God, her mind was everywhere and nowhere. She needed something static to keep her sane.

Katherine's hand was on the door's handle, tightly, despite the sharp pain that shot through her arm.

Stop this. Stop it. You should be dead, but you aren't. Look at yourself. Look at what you're doing in front of this kid. She looked slowly down at her hands. The flesh was sewing itself back together over the burns. Why had she done that? Oh, she knew why... It was an unhealthy way to cope with her reality that she so desperately hoped was just a nightmare. Or maybe she was in hell? Her hand was still on the door, and less and less was she tempted to leave the warmth of the room. But she needed a reason.

Subconsciously, Katherine whispered, "Don't let me leave..."

Ahote still didn't think of the girl too highly because of her actions, unsure of why she would open up so willingly and so easily to a man she knew only the name of. Though, it did help that she was so specific about who she was wanting to meet, making it much more convenient to move from this point onward.

He observed Katherine in her every move, wandering if she had been completely revived right about now. He imagined that frostbite would melt away quickly with the kiss of the heat, but it was something he never experienced on such a level, so he couldn't quite tell. Ahote began stirring his spoon into the now warm Oolong tea, followed by an exhausted sigh, "Fair point, I suppose. You can deny me information, but a bizarre choice to make towards someone who's saved and hosted you so warmly." Ahote avowed. He didn't particularly care whether Katherine left or stayed, and would continue to host her and provide for her in reasonable means. But he knew better than to be pressured into giving information to a stranger.

Ahote lifted the teacup to his pale lips and let a warm stream of tea make way into his mouth, down his throat and resting in his stomach. His hand descended back to the table, resting the cup there before giving Katherine his undivided attention once more. "Anyway,
I still have more questions for you, so if you don't mind. . ." Ahote began, raising his head to only find a distressed and upset Katherine, "Is everything alright?
Did I say something. . .?"  He fretted, confused by her sudden discomfort. Did he do something wrong? He was never used to this kind of behavior for a person, so he was at a loss for words.

Oh, man. What do I do? I don't think I could sleep well at night for making a girl upset for seemingly no reason! Ahote thought to himself, feeling himself slowly descend into a panic, but remained in a relaxed posture. He continued to watch her, no matter what disturbing behavior she exhibited. He didn't question it and didn't intervene, but watched in awe. She must surely be in pain, the boy thought, knowing the unbearable heat flames bore. Watching the flesh melt off her fingers, he felt himself becoming sick. He felt himself drown in the the memory of his own flesh fry off his own arm, losing it in the end. He knew that perhaps it was no hazard to her, if she could repair the damage. But not everyone could repair the damage, not everyone could magically regain what had been lost. The memory of his amputation and his magical, fiery incident came to like and provoked a fit of ferociousness and fury in the boy.

In moments of her burning her flesh, Ahote stood from his seat with an unprecedented hatred swelling his eyes, a sharp gaze that could cut just by a gentle touch. Never had he felt so disgusted. He walked over the suffering woman, grabbed her by the wrists with his metal grip, and pulled hers out of the flames with fingers charred and burnt. With the same tight, unforgiving grip, he raised her to her feet, released his hand only to let the metal digits smack her across her white, smooth cheeks.

Ahote glared at her, furrowed brows and a pained frown. "Don't you ever
do that again, or at least in front of me." he hissed, taking the same metal hand and grabbing her jaw, bring her face to his, so close that their noses nearly touched, but far enough that she could view his unadulterated anger in full, "Don't try so hard to destroy something I've worked so hard to protect, miss Katherine. I've been far too kind to you to have you disgust me like this." He spoke in his usual quiet voice, but fumed with each word that would pass his lips.

But as a quick relief of that stress, Ahote slowly pulled her into a friendly hug, patting her back before releasing her without a word. He cared for her as much as the next guy, but even without words, without explanation, despite the brief violence that took place seconds ago, he felt that this was the right gesture to do. A friendly hug. He thought that maybe things would experience relief if he did so.

"Sit back down, miss Katherine. We still have much to discuss."

Katherine yelped when his hand came into quick contact with her cheek. The welts stung, but she stayed quiet, listening carefully to what he said as tears pooled at the brims of her widened eyes. Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around her, their chests pressing together only briefly before he pulled away. She stared at him, her eyebrows scrunched, and forced herself to relax a little. Still stunned, the woman sank to the floor in front of the fireplace instead of going back to the chair she'd sat in before. Her hands were almost completely healthy now, and she stared at them in her lap with her head bent. Crimson locks fell forward and hid most of her face except the left side. With her useable eye covered, she couldn't see much of anything.

"Hey...Ahote?" Katherine shifted to look into the fire beside her. "I know we've only just met, but..." She sighed through her nose and turned to the boy. "I need to tell you something."

She thought carefully about what she would say next. After all, all she'd done since arriving was act foolishly. She really needed to get a hold of herself. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath and let it out through her nose. "I don't want any trouble with you, or anyone here for that matter, and I apologize if I've made you upset with me. It really shouldn't matter, but to me, it does. Every person I meet is important to me, in a way someone your age could never understand." She swallowed. "I am not... I'm not as young as I might look. I haven't been able to change in the 10 years I've been awake and all that has happened to me is... a lot. I know it doesn't excuse what I just did, or how I've spoken to you, but..." Katherine looked away from him. "I think if we're going to do this properly, then you should know something about me. I'm taking a risk, I know, but so are you by taking in a stranger. You may not care if I leave or stay, but I get the feeling that this is important. For both of us." She stood carefully.

"Let's start over?" She said, reaching out her newly mended hand.

She hoped they could forget this momentarily, but she knew it would be fairly difficult to. Something like this wasn't known to go over too easily and Katherine was worried she might be going into this wrong. The level or risk she was emitting herself into was extremely high, but maybe this would end in her favor.

They both settled into the awkward silence, Ahote returning to his seat, fuming while sipping his warm Oolong Tea. He stared down at his metal hand, shocked at his own actions. That was his first time hitting someone like that, without any provocation whatsoever. He didn't regret it, and wouldn't apologize. He got his point across, and that was all that mattered.

The silence had been disturbed by the soft and silky voice of Katherine, who insisted that she tell him something. Ahote turned to face her with a rather irritated expression, but said nothing. She spoke of many things, her true age, an apology for her disturbing actions, and other this and thats. None of it was particularly significant to the boy, but he did appreciate her quickness to apologize.

With a quick, weary sigh, the boy placed the teacup back onto the wooden table and extended his hand out to meet hers. "All is well, miss Katherine. Forgive and forget. But I appreciate your honesty and quickness to. . . amend things. It's a well valued characteristic if you plan on meeting the mages of this mountain. They value respect and submission above all else, so tread lightly." He suggested, a smile cracking his lips, "Though back to the point, where are you from and what business do you have with these mages? It's dangerous around here, you know. I'd hate to see someone harm you again, it's not pleasant to watch, you know. . ." Ahote finished.

He had many other questions, but knew that maybe he should ask them in doses. With small outbursts like that, and such questionable and disturbing behavior, he wasn't quite sure what she would or could do next with her stability in mind. The boy could understand that perhaps she may of had a troubled past, a past that involved his parents, and he had nothing to do with it. But his curiosity got the better of him, and was resolved to understand her intent.

The crimson haired mage hummed dejectedly, and dropped her hand to her side. She didn't feel like sitting down, so she remained standing between him and the fireplace. It felt like the medium of hot and cold, the boy being the frozen end. He appeared to be quite annoyed with her, which she could understand completely. After all, she just done something extreme that, to him, might not have made any sense at all. But to her, it was a way to get herself back on track. Of course, that plan had failed miserably and now she had a bloody lip and burning red welts on her cheek. Katherine gingerly ran her fingertips over them, but winced immediately at the contact. It felt long-lasting, and she kind of hated that. Maybe it was because his hand was...metal? Why did he have a metal hand?

He accepted her apology, in some way, before cracking a small smile. He seemed glad to return to the original subject, the one they'd been on about before she decided to roast herself. She took heed to his warning of treading lightly, but was surprised when he said he didn't care to see her hurt. That did not bode well with her and, somewhere in her stomach, she felt a tight clenching. Ignoring the odd sensation, she went on to answer his question as best she could.

"If I'm to believe what I read about myself a few weeks ago... I must be from Shirotsume. But, long before it was ever called that. I can't seem to recall the name..." Katherine hummed curiously, plainly bothered by the fact that there wasn't a name to a place that played such an important role in her past. Despite that however, she continued. "Ah, that's not a matter of concern, though. Who really cares if I can or can't remember the name of a place that no longer exists... Um, I suppose I should preface." She pushed some of her hair behind her ears, as it was getting in the way, and stared confidently at her hands while she fidgeted. "About a year ago, I was hosted by a family in Magnolia. They were very dear to me and... Some time around when Basilisk Fang came, they got sick. The water was by no means consumable then, but they had no idea and drank it. They passed away a fews days later. I know it was the water and I know that it was the basilisk's fault, but... well, I've come here because I don't want to go on never knowing why they died." She looked up at Ahote, nervously so. "I do not at all expect to get a kind answer or even one at all, but the least I can do is try. Not just for me, but for them. I doubt this is unbeknownst to you, but I am quite undeniably...upset...by this, for lack of a better word." She hoped desperately that this made sense to him. It might not, seeing as she wasn't totally disclosing her intentions, which she still had yet to figure out. She mostly just wanted something to be done about it. "Oh, and, Famine... She seemed to be the um, best, to ask about it..."

The tension of the room combined with the heat of the fire was suffocating. Katherine's legs were getting a little weak from standing, so she made her way back to her seat, pulling her long hair out of the way to save her from any more discomfort. As she sat down, she checked the tea she left behind. It had grown significantly cooler. Tempted to warm it up once more, she looked carefully to Ahote before she snapped her fingers underneath the cup and lit a fire just hot enough to make it steam again. She took a sip, but then groaned as she swallowed it. This magic, I swear, is a much a curse as it is a blessing. The tea tasted now as bitter as her own emotions.

Katherine was an interesting woman, to say the least. She clearly had some trouble recalling certain information, or maybe she was completely able to do this but she was simply out of touch with her own time. It surprised Ahote still that none of this came as a shock to him besides her harming herself. After murdering men and sneaking off the mountains and participating in jobs against his mother’s will before, no subject or idea really shocked him as much as it would’ve before. Or perhaps it was subjects regarding mages and magic and other topics of similarity that never clicked with him. Something to think about, he supposed.

It was briefly after this train of thought that she began to discuss her past in a town they both had been familiar with. A visit of Basilisk Fang followed by the sudden illness of her caretakers until death had passed his judgement. It was an incredibly underwhelming way to pass, as opposed to the sort of deaths Ahote had witnessed. He imagined it being a very ill death, perhaps painful, but not as imaginative as the ones he experienced. Regardless, coming all the way to Mt. Hakobe to discover the “truth” behind her caretakers’ deaths seemed silly. If she knew that the Basilisks had done something to the water supply, in which they drank, it already broke down into a small tree of reasons.

Poison, waste, harmful chemicals. . . there is only a small spectrum of conclusions one can come to with such a specific cause of death. Clearly a substance that couldn’t be detected by the average man who drank it through water or some other beverage. That being said, if said substance tainted the entire water supply, it’s highly likely that there were many other reported cases of illness or death. . . so she could do a bit of less dangerous research and just ask officials, medical professionals or morticians. . . when asking the cause of death, you’re more likely to ask the investigator and not the murderer. She claims not to be too unintelligent, so why is she here? Ahote thought to himself, always analyzing little things. At his question, he became more weary in her presence, quietly observing her heat her cup. It was nothing to comment on.

”Miss Katherine, if I may. . .” he began, looking into the flames that crackle on the charred logs resting in its hearth, ”if your caretakers had died through drinking contaminated water, the spectrum of possible cause of death widdles down to poison, waste, harmful intake of chemicals. . . things of that sort. If the water or water supply had been contaminated, there’s a high chance that there had been multiple reported cases of illness or death by the consumption of this water or other beverages. . .” Ahote’s soft voice suddenly became more intimidating, turning to face Katherine, ”local medical professionals or investigators would have the information you wanted so badly. Why not ask them? It’s far less dangerous and far more fruitful than confronting the supposed culprits themselves. So with that in mind, did you choose to travel here because you had nothing else to do or are you lying?” He queried, beginning to question her sincerity.

Katherine narrowed her eyes at him and frowned deeply. "Don't patronize me, boy." She said, her voice lowered and entirely unpleasant. "I know how they died, don't take me for an imbecile. I checked everywhere I could and found nothing. Do you think, that anyone with even an ounce love in their heart, would not try their damndest to seek justice? For every effect there is a cause. I am here to find that cause." The mage leant forward in her seat, far enough to be inside his personal space. Her flaming hair hung around her shoulders, sweeping the floor with the tips. "You can go on believing I'm a liar all you want, but know this, Ahote... I do not act without reason."

Their noses were mere inches away from each other, she could feel his breath on her lips and pulled back. She sat down wearing a tight grimace, her body aching from the tension.

"Oh, and by the way, stop calling me 'miss' would you? It makes me feel old." Katherine folded her arms over her chest and stared him in the eyes, pursing her lips. She can't have been making herself look very good, but he wasn't exactly helping that. Every question he asked her sparked a new annoyance in her veins. Who did this kid think he was? Sure he might deserve something in return for saving her, but he shouldn't expect it. With the way he behaved, she was becoming less and less interested in cooperating. If he really wanted her to talk, he should try his hand at respect, rather than assuming she was moronic. She, along with most other people, never enjoyed being talked down to.

Ahote maintained his indifferent expression as Katherine began to become angry in his questions. It was no surprise that she would feel the way she did, being accused of lying. But her actions thus far made her out to look like a fool.

As she brought her face in closer to his, he could feel her hot breaths blow against his pale, white skin. Her expressive, fuming eyes met his topaz ones, an atmosphere much less docile settling in the cabin. Although she did not seem very well spoken, he knew that had intense resolve. She was willing to advocate for herself, no matter the person, it seemed. The boy took good notes of her behavior in order to aid him in communicating with her in the future.

Ahote sighed a long, weary sigh as Katherine would pull away from his face and back into her own stiff position, clearly not pleased with how their conversation had been going. Though, what she had said was rather interesting. Justice? An ounce of love? It was difficult to understand the idea of justice when Ahote has never had a sense of it instilled within him from society. It was jarring to him, and couldn't help but speak on the subject after her clear request of the use of miss. Understandable, the request seemed.

"I'd hardly call what I did patronizing, Katherine. I think what I'm asking are reasonable questions after understanding the context of your situation. But very well." he began, staring into the flames of the hearth once again, "Lets talk about the aftermath of your resolve. Lets say that you do find this Famine character, and you discover the truth of why they made your family suffer tragic deaths. Then what? You kill them? Kill yourself, perhaps?
I wouldn't put it beyond you, given the self destructive tendencies you've displayed already." Ahote began to play with his Oolong tea, swirling his spoon deep within the toasty beverage. "I'd say leave the serving of justice to the men and women who do it for a living,
not some hot blooded girl who says she's serving justice when she really just needs a reason to keep living. I mean this figuratively, of course. We live to reproduce, really. It's an instinct that is shared universally between all things. But a reason to truly live. I imagine for you. . . that there is nothing left to live for with no one to welcome you home, no home to be welcomed home to. But to march into a cesspool of murderers and the supposed killers of your family,
understanding the risks and the sacrifices at stake just so you can relieve your curiosity is fruitless and something only a fool would do." Ahote's eyes darted back over to Katherine, a certain coldness to them. "If I let you up this mountain, and you talked to Famine, and she didn't kill or imprison you, what then? I'll tell you what happens next,
a broken girl walks around Fiore holding onto memories and a dream to be someone who is strong enough to get answers and start a new life when that girl doesn't exist. She's really just an incompetent, foolish girl who's too afraid to kill herself but too weak to move on."

Ahote sipped his tea, gazing into the wooden planks of the table. "This is just speculation, of course."

Katherine sat numbly for a moment, staring at him incredulously and processing every single word he had just said. She hung her head low, pressing her hands to her face so he couldn't see her expression. Her head was pounding, her ears ringing as she fought back her tears, but she couldn't do it this time. She couldn't make excuses or force a distraction, like burning her hands to a crisp. The tears came hard and fast, but she cried silently for the most part. She was fuming. She felt like she might burst into flames from how heated she had become in a matter of minutes. Her hands gripped the sides of the chair, knuckles burning white.

Unable to keep her anger contained, she leapt out of her seat, gripped the front of his shirt, and slammed her ignited fist into his jaw. "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!" She shouted, heart-wrenching sobs breaking through at the same time. She felt her hair fanning out around her, burning just as hot as the rest of her body. "Son of a bitch! You don't know me, you don't know the pain I have endured in the last thousand years! I lost every piece of my past, everyone I have ever loved is DEAD! I CAN'T GET THAT BACK!" With every word Katherine's body trembled and she dropped Ahote back into his seat. She turned her back to him and wrapped her arms around herself, breathing heavily. "What kind of soulless monster are you..." Katherine whipped back around to face him, her expression grim. "What was the point in saving me, huh? You could've left me to die, in fact, you probably should have. I would be much fucking happier dead, than I am right now, so what's your goal? WHY DID YOU SAVE ME?"

She stood before him, tear-streaked and aflame. Sobs quaked her body and her heart throbbed painfully. He wasn't wrong, and that's what hurt the most. She didn't have a home, or anything to live for but this excuse. What was the point of wandering around anyway? She should have just offed herself when she woke up, that way she wouldn't have had to go through ten years of the bullshit leading up to this moment.

"Ahote, you said that you didn't want to see me hurt by anyone, but I guess that didn't include you, did it?"

Ahote found himself hesitant to return his gaze back to Katherine after what he said. He imagined that it had upset her far beyond what the boy could tolerate. He felt himself sink into deep thought, questioning whether he should say any more after that. Maybe I shouldn't have said all that so bluntly. I bet she's pretty upset. Should I apologize? Maybe I should, actually. But then again, it's not my fault she can't handle the truth. Honesty is always the best policy, even if it hurts some feelings. But I should still apologize, I guess. . . He pondered, turning to face Katherine in hopes that an apology would mend the wounds between them.

Abruptly, it seemed as if the apology would never cross his mouth when the crimson locks brushed against his cheeks, her hues filled with flames and warm hands gripping themselves onto his sweater and undershirt. Before Ahote could even think to speak or to process the situation, wide, topaz eyes winced in shock when Katherine's tough knuckles pounded against the boy's white, smooth jaw. A brief jolt of pain went through the boy upon impact, but he failed to react, to speak, to defend himself. Instead, he slid back into his chair with wide eyes and an a stiff body.

Ahote simply looked down at his feet, listening to the woman's ranting and furious tangents. He absorbed the words in without releasing them, but couldn't think of them too deeply while recovering from the shock. But slowly, he raised his hand to the wound and gently rubbed his fleshed fingers across the bruised, bloody skin. It ached, stung and itched, but his fingers descended from the wound and onto the arm of the chair, raising his head to look at Katherine with an angered expression.

"Soulless monster?" Ahote jeered quietly, "I have been kind to you, Katherine. . . when I could've let that man beat, rape and kill you, I didn't.
And I don't need reason to help someone in need. Someone who did nothing wrong.
But despite my hospitality. . . despite everything I've done for you in such little
time. . .' The raven haired man stood up, walking over to the distressed woman with fury in his eyes, "you dare strike me and demean me because you're too weak to accept the truth! It is people like you that need to be fixed, that need their morals and perception adjusted! If waking others up from these silly dreams of a perfect world or unstoppable resolves means hurting them, then my god, I will gladly call myself a soulless monster, you stupid girl!" Ahote yelled at her with a trembling voice. He never raised his voice, much less to a woman.

Ahote took his left hand and grabbed a group of crimson threads, pulling her face close to his. "A broken, foolish girl who can't wake up from her dreams needs someone to help her do that! But to strike me. . . to strike me. . .!" Ahote's tone became more stressed, feeling his metal fingers dig deeper into her scalp before he could no longer contain his frustration and slammed her head into the table.

Silence brushed over the two, nothing but heartbeats and rough panting could be heard. Ahote held his chest, turning back to sit down in his chair with tears nearly swelling in his eyes. He felt like crying, really. He's never hit someone like that and not kill them. It seemed like murder and attacking someone without death being involved felt completely different. The adrenaline coursing through his veins settled, and his heartbeat didn't feel as rushed. Quietly, Ahote's shaking voice passed his lips, "Hey, Katherine. . . I'm. . . I'm sorry.
. ." Ahote stammered, looking over to Katherine's idle body. Worried, he reached over to shake her shoulder with his right hand, "Katherine. . .? Hey. . . you okay?" With no response, Ahote began to understand what had happened.

With an upsetting sigh, he stood up and checked her pulse through her wrist. "She's still alive. . . I need to take her up the mountain. There aren't any medical tools here. . . alright. Time to go. . ." Ahote told himself, wrapping the jacket around her tightly, rummaging through the other areas of the cabin to find a spare jacket himself before he would carry her up the mountain.

The nerve she had to hit me. I'd ought to just leave her out in the snow.
. . but. . .

[End]