Walking along the road that led to the mountains, a stranger, lost and alone finds himself traveling on this road. Ankle high snow-covered his boots, freezing his feet while he wrapped his arms around himself in trying to keep his body warm. The snow was quietly falling and the air was silent, not a sound was being made in the woods save for the man's footsteps crunching the snow.
A traveler this man was, been on the same road for days on end barely having the time to stop. He wasn't lost, but he didn't know where he was going either. Thus, he believes himself to be lost. A road unknown is best traveled lightly, but he took it head on and now he is at the mercy of Father Winter. He was not on the right side of it either. He was covered in rags, a blanket he had taken off a store from the town he had been in the day before. He was starving, unable to eat because of his lack of currency. He stole to survive, not always successful, but not always failing either.
His strength was giving way, barely able to keep walking, and so he slumped against a tree on the side of the snowy road. It creaked but it stayed put. The man wore a hood over his head, what protection he had from the severe cold. From under the hood were a pair of red eyes hidden behind raven black bangs, a sign that this man wasn't entirely human.
That was the reason he was on such a lonely road. Nothing cared for him, so he believed. Pity was lost on him for those red eyes were not normally a color humans had. He believed himself a monster, and sadly most people agreed with him. Shunned by what he once believed were humans, he damned them as the monsters they showed themselves to be whenever he was in their presence. Only his name, Vincent, was all that he had kept from his human life while he discarded the rest.
The peace of the night, despite it's cold was calming for him as he closed his eyes to rest. Just for the moment...not caring that he wouldn't wake up again when the cold embraced him.
A snap from behind. The tree had broken!
He shot his eyes open just as he began to fall down the hillside, hitting fallen branches and bushes but somehow avoiding stopping entirely. It wasn't a long fall but it felt like minutes longer when he finally hit the bottom of the hill. Rolling onto his back, Vincent took a deep breath to regain himself, all the while trying to feel if he had injured himself in the fall. This proved to be harder than he had thought because of the cold numbing his limbs. He used his eyes to check for him instead. He checked his arms first, then sat up to check his legs. Both of which were all right to his surprise.
Also to his surprise, he heard a ping sound echo in the air around him. Not noticing it before, he stood up and listened carefully. Maybe it was just his mind going south from exhaustion? No, when he heard it again he knew he wasn't hallucinating. The pinging sound made a melody, and he believed that he was hearing the sounds of a piano.
'How...? I can't see anything that would prove-' His mind stopped when he saw in the distance, past the fog and snow of winter, a tall structure. Reaching for the sky with six tall towers, lights illuminating the darkness and the music he had been hearing before become an ensemble for his ears. A castle, a black one, or possible grey, Vincent couldn't tell in the snow.
He was initially overcome with uncertainty as he took a step towards this castle that he had never seen before, wondering if it may bring him sanctuary from the bitter cold. He took the many steps it took to reach the front door, the music ringing ever louder. He also began to hear voices coming from inside.
Reaching for the knocking knob, Vincent banged the wooden door a good four times in slow succession. He then rested his head against the wood, hoping to heaven that someone would answer him.
It didn't take long for someone to do so.
A man wearing a masque and tuxedo suite answered, "Sir."
Vincent fell to his knees, as if he were to pray, "Please...I am but a lowly traveler with nothing to give, but if I may ask your lord for a bed until the snow moves on...I would be eternally grateful."
The man's expression was emotionless, but he glanced back behind his shoulder as if he were communicating with someone Vincent couldn't see.
"My sir, the good lady would not turn away someone in need of shelter. Please do come in, and warm yourself by the fire."
The servant opened the door more, and Vincent would have wept had he had the feeling in his face. He managed to get to his feet and using the door for leverage he stumbled right on into the castle.
A/N: Like with my other stories, if this story gets enough positive reception (reviews and alerts) I will continue it, but it is up to the readers.
