The wind howled like a hungry beast, tearing through the frozen wilderness. Snow whipped across the desolate landscape, stinging like needles against Chael's battered face. He had a very slender build and he looked no older than seventeen. His silver hair, undone and messy, clung to his blood-smeared skin, strands whipping wildly in the storm.

A once-pristine white fur cloak draped over his shoulders, now tattered and stained red, hanging heavy with the weight of battle. He stood alone with boots half-buried in the frost and his breath ragged clouds in the freezing air. Around him, the mercenaries closed in, their grins hungry and their weapons glinting under the pale moonlight.

Chael's grip tightened on the broken sword in his hand, or what was left of it, anyway. The jagged edge of the split blade still gleamed with blood, though whether it was his or theirs, he didn't care. His chest rose and fell with each breath, pain gnawing at his ribs from earlier blows. He was outnumbered. Badly. 

One of them stepped forward. He a wiry man with a patchy beard and a dented helmet. His lips curled in a sneer. "Ain't no more runnin', Chief."

Chael spat blood into the snow and growled, "That's what your buddy said before I split his skull open."

Another of the mercenaries, with a crooked nose, sneered. "Watch your mouth, princess."

Chael's breath was growing more and more shallow. These mercenaries, the Mongrel's Vow, had hunted him the entire night and they had finally caught up to him. No matter how formidable a warrior he was, taking on an entire band of mercenaries was near impossible.

Chael's breath was laboured and shaky but he firmed his stance on the earth. Weather it was his final one or not, he did not know. He wouldn't have minded either option. "Come at me then, you mongrels."

And then, they rushed him.

Chael's eyes glinted and he immediately ducked under the first swing of an axe, feeling the air split beside his ear. His broken sword lashed out and the jagged edge carved into a mercenaries throat, hot blood spraying across the snow.

The next attacker lunged. Chael twisted, slammed his boot into the his knee, shattering it sideways. The mercenary collapsed with a strangled scream. Another swung a club at his head. Chael barely ducked in time, feeling the wind rush past his scalp.

He was fast. Almost as if he was a ghost in the snow. But they were too many.

A club slammed into his ribs and Chael staggered, coughing blood, but still slashed out, catching another man's cheek. Someone grabbed him from behind. A sharp pain flared as a dagger buried itself into his shoulder.

He growled like a wounded beast, elbowing the mercenary in the gut and ramming his broken blade into his stomach. The bandit choked, blood bubbling from his lips, but before Chael could pull free—

A massive hand clamped onto his right arm. Chael's face fell as he realised what was about to happen.

A moment later-

SNAP.

White-hot pain exploded through Chael's body as his arm broke over a knee. A strangled yell ripped from his throat, but he clenched his jaw, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a scream.

"Curse you!" he snarled, spitting blood. His vision blurred with agony, but he still glared up at the one who had done it.

The brute who had just snapped his arm was massive and towered at least a foot over him. His beard was thick and unkempt, his head bald and glistening with sweat despite the cold and his eyes were small, piggish and full of cruelty. He grinned down at Chael.

"You're a tough one," the brute rumbled, "But that arm's pretty useless now ain't it, princess?"

Chael's teeth clenched, his breath shaky from the pain. But even as his right arm hung uselessly at his side, even as the mercenaries loomed closer, he refused to kneel.

Clap. Clap

"Took you bastard long enough to catch this brat." An unamused feminine voice called out following a slow clap that echoed through the snowy landscape.

Chael looked up at the woman standing on top of a boulder.

She stood with the air of a queen among rats. her black hair was tousled by the wind and her black cape flared behind her. A nice tricorn hat shadowed her sharp, scarred face, but he could still see her eyes. They were cold and bored, like she had already decided how this would end. A musket rested in her gloved hand, her fingers idly tapping against the polished wood.

Chael growled, "Echinda..."

"Pleasure meeting you again, Chael. How was your little trip back from the city?" The woman known as Echinda smiled innocently before she pulled out her musket and aimed at Chael.

Bang.

A gunshot split the night.

The impact slammed into his shoulder like a hammer, ripping the breath from his lungs. His legs buckled and he felt himself falling to the floor.

Chael dropped to his knees for the first time. Blood seeped from his wound, warm against the cold. But he forced himself to lift his head, his glare burning through the pain.

"No hard feelings, brat. You've killed nearly ten of my men so far. I had to get back at you somehow." Echinda said lazily as she approached him.

"Bitch." he spat, blood dripping from his mouth. That was the only thing he had to say to her.

Echidna rolled her eyes. "Oh, please."

She blew the smoke from her musket and flicked the pipe between her lips. "Tie him up."

The mercenaries grabbed him, forcing him onto his back in the snow. His body ached. His arm was ruined. But still, he fought, thrashing against their grip.

"Mongrels," he snarled, "You raid and loot my clan when they were in that state... then you lay a trap for me like the fucking mongrels you are!"

"I dunno what you're talking about." Echidna tilted her head, exhaling a lazy puff of smoke, then turned around, "If he escapes I'll kill every one of you bastards myself do you understand?!"

The mercenaries grabbed him and dragged him across the snow as he left a bloody trail on his wake.

Echidna had taken a couple of steps forward then turned around once more, "Actually, break his sword hand. It'll be very troublesome if he escapes again."

Chael's vision blurred with fury.

The brute loomed over Chael, his massive shadow swallowing him whole. His thick, scarred hands reached down, wrapping around Chael's right wrist like a steel trap. The same hand that had snapped his arm.

"Let's make sure you never set foot on the battlefield again, princess." The brute's voice was almost amused, his breath hot against Chael's ear.

Chael's body jerked as he fought against the iron grip, but his strength was failing him. His limbs felt like lead, his vision swimming in pain and blood loss. Still, he gritted his teeth, his silver hair hanging in blood-matted strands over his eyes.

"Fuck you," he snarled.

The brute grinned. "Nah."

Then he pressed down.

A sickening crunch split through the air as his thick fingers drove Chael's hand into the frozen ground. Searing pain ripped through his nerves like wildfire. Chael's breath hitched, his body seizing as agony shot up his arm.

Then came the first finger.

The brute grabbed his pinky, twisting it in a slow, deliberate motion before—

SNAP.

Chael's scream tore through the icy night, raw and unfiltered. His body arched, his breath ragged and shaking.

Laughter echoed around him. The bandits watched with grins, their faces twisted in sick amusement.

The brute wasn't done.

"C'mon now," he chuckled. "You got four more."

Chael panted, his forehead pressed into the snow. Blood smeared across the ice as he gasped for breath, but he still managed to spit, his voice a broken rasp.

"Rot in hell."

The brute grabbed another finger.

Another snap.

By the time the fifth one broke, Chael's voice was hoarse, his throat raw from agony. His entire hand was ruined with fingers bent at sickening angles, swelling already setting in. Blood dripped from his palm, staining the frost beneath him.

Echidna stared in twisted amusement. She walked up to Chael and crouched down and grabbed a fistful of his silver hair, forcing her piercing gaze onto Chael's deep blue pupils.

"Now that the Ashwara Clan is no more, and their leader is in my hands…" Her lips curled into something cruel. "Wonder how much those bastards at the city are willing to pay for the brat who's been a thorn in their side for so long?"

Chael's breaths came in ragged gasps. He tried to curse at her but no words came out.

Echidna grinned in response. "Drag him to the hideout."