They watched as the war host butchered their preys, armors and weapons dripping with fresh blood from carving chunks of flesh and piling them up to wagons pulled by great beasts of burden. There couldn't be more than a hundred and fifty, joined by a few dozens more from several auxiliary cohorts, yet they have taken on what seemed for Quang and the refugees to be several thousands of their preys. Without loosing even one soldier.
- Hey uh…are you going to…eat that?
The old chief looked up, staring directly at the curious and impatient faces of several elven warriors, all of whom have hair the color of raven feathers, yet eyes of various shades of purple and violet. They've discarded their heavier armaments for the evening resting, too heavy to move swiftly in the coolness of the night, too heavy for them to enjoy their bloodlust to the fullest. Those eyes looked so similar to Haru's gentle gems, yet these warriors, these…elves, the old chief could see only malice, wild and untamed, violence and conflict, in those eyes he saw only beasts. Quang took a step to the side, allowing the dark elves, all four of them, to descend onto the freshly slain goatman, dragging its broken and mutilated body toward the blazing pyre to be devoured, cooked or otherwise.
- Yea…sorry about that. - Ginji approached, scratching his head with one bloodied hand. - They're all new bloods, eager to fight but a bit lacking when it comes to manners.
- And what about those that bear your mark? - Quang narrowed his eye at the blond. - I've never seen such savagery from warriors so small.
The smaller male tilted his head, eyes glued to the old human's own, as if applaud by the audacity. A smile spread across his childish face, his face wrinkled with humor and glee as he chuckles, his entire petite frame trembling. There was a sense of unease as the chuckling continues, the old chieftain realized, the boy was chuckling, but he was anything but amused. A single tear trickled out of Ginji's closed left eye as he slowly regains his composure, though whether it was from the chuckling or some other reasons, Quang did not know.
- You should return to your camp. - The prefect wiped the lonely tear from his face. - You human don't fair very well in this kind of cold, especially when there's a flash freeze coming.
- And what about you? - The chieftain scoffed a reply. - If you and that boy share some blood, wouldn't you and your war band freeze to death as well?
- Believe me. - Ginji snickered. - Even the youngest of the new bloods have faced far worse than anything this mud ball could throw at us. Now leave me, I have works to do, and things to plan for.
Before the chieftain could open his mouth, the elf has already put several more steps between them, flanked on either sides by his companions in blue light armors. Once again, Quang sensed that he was being watched, and contrary to his expectation, the knowledge of his watchers' identities didn't relief him of stress at all. Still, it has granted some respites, knowing that they'd have the prefect's protection, for now. With a heavy sigh, the old chief stood up, dragging one foot after another back to camp, his mind pondered about what to tell the others about their discussion, fearing how they would react. The elf has told him that they're to march to the last of the elven outposts tomorrow morning, a ten miles trek without rest across the tundra to gather supplies and the remaining soldiers. Something was scaring them away from these lands, and Quang didn't want to think about what could have spook entire armies of them, if a "hunting party", as Ginji's put it, is this formidable.
Human, even the sturdiest ones, are a bunch of superstitious and idiotic lots, the old chief recalled his old friend Quetz has told him many decades ago, as he got closer and closer to the camp of his fellow human. He could smell it before he could hear it, and he could hear it before he could see it, just a few more steps and the chief was overwhelmed by the familiarity of his kinds, along with the orderly chaos that usually accompanies them. Maybe it was because of the eerie silence of the elves and their allies when darkness comes, but Quang was relieved, hearing the loud, unmistakable sounds of human, both young and old, chattering, singing and discussing like they usually did back in the village. They have regained some resemblances of the peaceful atmosphere, fear still lingered amongst their hushed discussions, but at least they're at ease, knowing they'll be safe tonight.
- Chief. - A huntress stood up from her post, followed by several others, all anxious to hear about the news.
Quang's presence was acknowledged by the entire camp, what pitiful left of their tribe quickly gathered around the old chief as he sat down to relay the news. They shuffled toward him on legs wrapping in cloths and animal hides, the elven prefect was right, the nights in these highlands are darker and colder than any winter they have spent in their coastal village, bitterly so. The old chief looked at his fellow tribesmen, huddling into shivering clumps of three to six people each, so pressed together that each clump was more like a shaggy animal with multiple legs and heads. They were desperate, cold and anxious, desiring nothing more than to return to the warm spots near the blazing pyres. But the cold wasn't the only thing that bothered them, not entirely, the unfamiliarity of sceneries and the presence of the war band have taken their tolls on the refugees' minds, they needed something to reassure them.
- What news, chieftain? - The huntress asked, putting a step closer to him, eyes beaming with hope and anticipation. - What did the "elf" say?
- We have their protection, for now. - Quang replied loudly, so that the people in the back could hear, already there were mumbling and chattering of reliefs. - They said they'll head for safety after collecting the last of their kin, about ten miles from here, give or take.
- Ten miles, then we will head to the Maw, yes? - A young girl asked eagerly, shivering breathes escaped her lips as she said.
- …Aye, - The chief hesitated, then continued. - aye we will, we'll get there soon enough.
The change of atmosphere was phenomenal, excited chattering, talks about foods and shelters, perhaps a nice place to start over, some were more skeptical, but not daring to shoot out what little hope they have left. The crowd slowly disbanded, clumps of shaggy furs and ragged shuffled back to the pyres, huddling in the warmth, some put up the great tents that the war band has so graciously provided, while some put on even more warm clothes to prepare for the long night. It was a welcoming change, the chieftain thought to himself as he made his way across the camp to his spot, shivering and rubbing his arms to keep warm, it's not much but it's the best they have. The best thing that Quang could provide to lift their spirits before the truth dawns on them.
The truth being that the elves were only helping them across the mountains out of courtesy, it was the order they were given. The matter of by whom and for what can go sod itself for all he cared, sitting down next to the fire outside of his tent, no larger than any others that littered the campsite. It was far enough for him, still so close that he could hear the sounds of chattering, but far enough so that they couldn't hear what exactly those chattering were.
He tossed another neatly hacked up logged into the fire pit, then averted his eyes toward the faint chain of braziers and campfires in the distance, illuminating tents and shadows of elves, valkyries and "anacondrai", as they call those that look like Quetz. They were silence, on edge, not one being seen without their weapon or a torch, something was rousing them, and the chieftain wasn't sure he wanted to know. Yet he still watched them, with fascinated eyes, like a child gazing upon a spectacle that he's never seen before. And what a spectacle it was, petite soldiers, warrior women and fearsome raptorial combatants, set on edge by an unseen threat hiding somewhere in the patches of sparse woodlands dotting the tundra as the snow slowly fell.
Quang blew into his gloved hands, then rubbed them together, trying to get them just a little bit warmer, before tossing another log into the fire, watching, waiting for something to happen, though he's not sure if he really wanted to see it or not. It's getting colder, he realized, the nights here are darker and colder than any bitter winter at the coast, several have already succumbed to the cold, he just hoped that enough people would make it to their new home alive. He just hoped that Quetz would let them when they meet again.
***
- So, you're afraid that he'd be pissed off the next time he catches sense of you? - Ginji smirked, kicking his legs as he marched in front of the column. There was a hint of malice in his squeak-ish voice, which sounded oddly like Quetz's growling, causing the old chief to shiver.
He walked beside the high elf, dragging his feet on the virgin snow, his eyes glued to the ground littered with footsteps. They've been marching since first light to save time, the sooner they move, the sooner they reach sanctuary. Or at least that's Ginji's reasoning. There's something about this boy, this "high elf", that made Quang feel dreaded, a feeling that he couldn't shake off. He couldn't put a finger on it, the elven boy was behaving as he did yesterday, it was also different. He didn't notice as first when they started talking earlier, but as the subject began to shift to Quetz and Haru, the old chief could have swear that he saw Ginji flinched.
- Yes… - Quang nodded, his reply was but a whisper, fearing anything out of order would set off this seemingly friendly elf. - He… I-I… You must understand that I'd do anything to keep my people from harm. He brought me the boy in the middle of a harsh winter, the crops failed, our hunters weren't that successful that year.
- He also sent you…enough food to last the winter, prior to him bringing the boy to you. - Ginji hissed, his armed waved the air dramatically as he turned and faced the human chieftain. - How about that?
- There wasn't enough. - Quang narrowed his eyes, even when it's freezing, his sweats still rolled down his face like waterfall. - Not enough for everyone.
- LIAR!
A roar cut through the air, a roar that gave the column for fearsome warriors pause. It seemed so surreal, one moment their lockstep march made them look invincible, yet just a heartbeat later, the only word that could be used to describe this army was…distraught. They were not in disarray, per se, but the glimpses of fear in the nearest warriors' eyes told it all.
Something was dashing toward Quang and Ginji, pass the bedazzled soldiers and refugees, so fast it was that the old chief could only see a blurry black cloaked shadow. The way it moved, the way it maneuvered, the snarls escaping its fanged mouth, it all reminded the chief of Quetz, but this one, this was different. There was no remorse for the human caught on its path, the beast's passing sent several refugees flying upon impact. Those that were directly in its path were less fortunate, as black, metallic claws ripped into them in a whirl of blind fury, leaving only their mangled corpses and trails of blood.
In a blink of an eye, it was upon Quang. He was upon Quang. Raptorial talons classed in black armors seized the old chief by the throat, pressing him against one of the huge boulders lining each sides of the path. For a moment, the human thought he saw Quetz, those amber eyes burning with hatred and pain, searing his soul with each foggy breath escaping their owner's mouth, with lips curled back, revealing fang-like teeth glistening under the sun. He thought it was him, the choking sensation, along with the lack of oxygen made his eyes blurry.
- How dare you lie about Father? - The figure's voice was malice, his words were liquid fire, his talons carved out lines in the rock as they tightened around Quang's neck even more.
- Qu-Quetz…please…let me… - The old chief coughed, hands gripping and pulling at the metallic shell classing the slender yet muscular raptorial leg in futile.
- Don't you dare speak His name! - The other male roared, his eyes now shifted into a devilish red.
With a swift turning motion, Quang was tossed onto the snow, crimson flowers bloomed on the white, soft canvass, spilling from the wounds made by those fierce metallic claws on his neck and shoulders.
- Quetz…let me explain… - The old chief struggled to sit up, pressing his hand against his wounds to keep the blood from flowing did little.
- I told you not to speak His name!
Quang blinked to clear his eyes, and what he saw, who he saw, wasn't the man he's so feared. Like Quetz, he strode on raptorial legs tipped with vicious talons, his long tail swayed aggressively as he took purposeful steps toward the old chief. Yet he was…younger, at least compared to the white haired man Quang has known for most of his career, with short, raven-colored hair and eyes burning like white hot iron. Under his left eye were markings, tattoos of source, which seemingly flared up with every blink of his pale golden eyes. Around him, a strange aura seemed to distort the air, raising his fearsomeness to supernatural proportion, which only increase the closer he got to Quang.
- How dare you speak His name, maggot? - The black haired man hissed. - How dare you mention Him in any regard but reverence, let alone accuse him of cheating on your kind?
- It was…the truth! - The old chief coughed out a reply trying to sit up as blood still dripped from his wounds. - The food…there was something…wrong with it…many…died…
- Liar… - The man hissed, his fist clenched so tightly that Quang could hear the sound of the metallic claws scraping against his palm.
- Lucious that's enough.
Ginji stepped in between the old chief and the black haired man, though Quang couldn't see his face, he somehow knew the high elf was also fearful of this person. For a moment, there was silence, as if the elf's presence alone gave this man, this creature, pause. His eyes looked less demonic now, the distorting aura subsided along with his rage as soon as he saw Ginji standing defiantly in front of him. But it was not to last.
Lucious, as Ginji's called him, narrowed his golden eyes, foggy breaths escaped his parted lips as he contemplated the situation. Grinding his fangs in frustration, the black haired male barked:
- Get out of the way, elf!
- The human's your father's guess, he's promised safe conducts! - Ginji snapped back.
- He forfeited that right when he spieled out lies! - Lucious hissed, unsheathing the thin-bladed sword hanging on his hip and raised it high, its blood red steel shimmered in the sun. - The only promise I shall uphold is that of a swift death.
Quang watched as with a swift twirl of the man's hand, the point of the blade was pointed at his pulsating heart and rapidly descended with lethal speed. The human closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, waiting for the sharp pain to pierce his chest and end him. He could hear the needle-like blade pierced through the air, making it sing with its deadly melody, before it was suddenly stopped, interrupted by the sounds of flesh being ripped and metal slid across bloodied skin. Following it was a gasp of fear and terror, joined by dozens more and the hushed whispering coming from the crowd that has gathered earlier. For a few tensed seconds, the old chief dared not to open his eyes, nor did he dare to breathe, he shook, not from the cold, but from the dreaded sensation that something has gone wrong. It was only when his lungs gave up, did Quang open his eyes and let the air escape his mouth in pants. And while indeed there were no blades impaling his chest, there was however a puddle of crimson liquid, dripping from the tip of the blade, mere inches away from his chest, held firm by a pale hand.
Lucious stood motionless, his fierce golden eyes glued to the owner of the hand that has saved Quang's life in awe and terror. In the corner of his eyes, the old chief could see fluttering silvery white hair, partially hiding the furious amber eye that have haunted his dreams for most of his life. He felt his skin burning, as Quetz's rage sizzled into an invisible aura, far more powerful than Lucious' own as he pulled himself and the blade up. The white haired man gripped the sword with both hands, one at the blade, the other at the hilt, coiling around Lucious' frozen hand, and pulled free. The black haired man immediately fell onto one knee, his head hung low and his eyes glued to the snow covered ground where the droplets of blood have formed a puddle of crimson liquid. He gulped, sweats dripped down his face as he prepared himself to ask for forgiveness from his father. With a shaky voice, Lucious murmured the words, mentally prepared for his father, his emperor's wrath:
- Father.