He awoke to the sun's beam hitting his face, the yellow ray had sneaked through a small hole in his drapes.
He adjusted to the unconventional alarm many months ago, sliding slightly getting the ray off of him.
He continued to lay in bed,staring at the ceiling a dull grey-stone color. His room remained quiet and dark, as it would always if he didn't wish it not. He let out a long sigh.
'Here comes another day.' He thought bitterly.
He threw his covers off and stood, stretching and letting out a yawn. He pulled aside his drapes, dispensing the red hue that bathed his bedroom. The window faced the east and reveled a recently risen sun.
He gave a quick glance around his room, a habit he developed while traveling with his brother, always check to see if you've been robbed.
His bed sat underneath the window, red and white linen dressed it poorly. His oak desk stood on the opposite wall, littered with letters, receipts and his research journal. Books overspread the rest of his room, giving it a distinct and lovely scent. Having noticed nothing alarming the young man went to do his morning rituals, bathe and groom, dress, and then get his store ready.
About an hour later as he finished getting dressed he gave himself a once over in the mirror, another habit given to him by his brother, you never should leave without seeing yourself, he didn't really care for what he saw.
He wasn't handsome, but he didn't think he was repulsive. He saw pained and lonesome pair of eyes, left green and right yellow, hidden behind a chic pair of silver framed glasses(The only stylish thing on him).
He wore a simple tunic with one arm having no sleeve and the other sleeve ended at his finger tips, it was a forest green and the cuffs and neck line had wool etched on and dyed brown. His lower fashion choice was a simple pair of pants plucked from the general store from the town down the road. This was his regular outfit.
It discomforted him to stare at himself, to think of what lay ahead that day.
He ran his hands through his hair in vain, no longer having hair of length, it was now short and black. This was a habit he fathered on his own. It caused some dread to leave him, but not nearly enough.
He exited his room and headed down stairs to his shop. The two story structure, built in a humble design was by no means elegant and that's why he chose it, was forged from stone. It also doubled as his home and work place.
The stairwell twisted and curved down to a room filled with order sheets, un-stocked products, and a list of shipment dates along with a few more research journals. He made his way pass them all and exited through a door way where he came out behind a counter. He inhaled the smell and smiled at his shop, or more accurately at his wears.
Hundreds of books lined the walls, stacks upon stacks neatly laid on the floor.
He went to the front to unlock and place his 'open' sign up.
He sat behind his counter, a book plopped on it, and read.
That was what he did everyday.
This was what he despaired.
Like most of the days he hadn't had a customer.
Despite living in an hour of the village he didn't go there except on rare occasions. And the same could be said for them.
But his business did indeed thrive despite the lack of local customers. He has clients overseas and across the land, customers from Fenith island to a small village called Kardia, where he has a sort of friendship with a local librarian called Russell and his book lover employee named Tori. They often wrote each other about favorable books to read. He had planned to visit them last spring but had to cancel due to a rise in monster activity.
Sadly they were his only friends.
Kiza was indeed lonely.
No longer even having his sibling to talk too.
Kiza's older brother had vanished two years ago after asking Kiza to 'look after some stuff till I'm back' by letter. Leaving Kiza a farm, that he neglected, and his home along with a house further from both, his brother had let all of them fall into disrepair. For some reason he hadn't contacted Kiza since.
Kiza had fixed up the smaller of the two buildings, the one further from the farm and in turn the village (now Kiza's home) and had turn it into a book shop.
Kiza had spent the last two years that way, isolated.
Alone.
But that all would change one winter day when a amnesiac would collapse outside his home.
Kiza had just finished putting up shutters when the first crack of thunder sounded, causing him to flinch a little at the unexpected boom. The sky had darken and the wind had picked up, casing snow to dance freely in air that stung and the two towering naked cherry trees that framed his home to sway with it.
He trudged through knee length snow in his winter clothes, an entire outfit mad from Wooly wool, a large tight tunic and a shin-length robe held in place by an eastern style cloth called a 'sash' items he got by an artistic peddler whom had traveled to the east island. The only article of clothing that didn't blend into the snow was a blue scarf tied around the lower half of his face and the tail finally ended at his hip.
It took a tremendous amount of RP to actually shut the door due to the force of the wind. Kiza headed up stairs into his kitchen and dinning room started a fire in his chimney and huddled close to it as he brought milk to boil upon it. Afterwards he sat near the flames enjoying coco as it warmed his insides while he read another book.
This was what would have happen all week, possibly all winter, but sometimes destiny wants a more effervescent show.
A sudden banging on his door caused him to spill his hot drink on himself but a more heartbreaking, for Kiza at least, outcome was the hot beverage defiling the purity of his book.
Annoyed, he headed down stairs and answered the door "Sorry we're clos-" Kiza didn't finish as a body came crashing on him, knocking him on his bottom and letting the wind slam his door open. His door hit the wall with a loud crack as snow started to blow in.
Kiza pushed the limp form off of him and any annoyance he had vanished as he took sight of the pitiful person laying on his floor, it was male around his age in nothing but a simple traveler's cloak. The man shivered and his lips were turning blue. Kiza grabbed him and headed up the stairs, the stranger's skin was cold like ice and yet sticky by sweat. He placed him by the fire, took off his ruined cloak and put his own robe on the man and threw his blanket over him. Kiza stared at the man, he looked impossibly close to death. His green hair stuck to his forehead and he still shivered. Knowing nothing else he took off his jacket and placed it over the man, it didn't stop him from shaking. He paced back and fourth.
'What the hell do I do?' Kiza thought, head spinning from the strange event.
The man tossed and turned, saying something incoherent.
He was sweating profusely and yet when Kiza touched him his arms were still frozen. He inspected him, his fingers tips were losing color, turning black.
Frostbite.
He glanced out his window the snowstorm still raged on and it seemed it would the rest of the night.
Kiza placed his hand on the strangers forehead, it was hot.
He once again glanced outside.
The man suddenly had a fit of coughing, it sounded stuck and wet.
The man would die by tonight if he didn't get help. But Kiza might die if he ventured outside to get help. As if to signal this a loud flash lighted the sky followed by a deafening boom.
'H..el..p.'
It was a whisper, barely audible, but nonetheless there.
A sigh escaped Kiza as he now knew what he had to do.
Kiza knew exactly what he had to do...He bolted down the stairs, jumped over the counter and only stalled long enough to make sure his door shut completely. Then he continued his run into the storm. The icy wind stung his exposed skin, having given all his winter wears to warm up the stranger, he now faced the winters bitter cold unprotected.
He blindly headed southwest the general direction of the village. The raging storm made it so he could barely make out his hand in front of his own face.
He continued his sprint down a gentle slope when he heard the first howl.
He froze as another howl answered the first, this one closer.
He spun around, his breath coming out in puffs of smoke, panicking. His lungs felt like they were going to burst, his legs sore from not only the cold but the none stop running. In his constant motion he was able to ignore all this and deal with the weather, but now stopped he realized how foolish his quest for help was, now both would die because of this forsaken cold.
He heard another Howl, followed by two more.
He let out a string of curses.
The wind suddenly died and the snow came to an abrupt halt.
He saw a pair of glistening red eyes twenty feet ahead the night sky revealed nothing else.
'Ok it's ok, I can deal with one.' Kiza thought grateful for a break in this string of misfortune.
A dozen more appeared behind it and a coldness crept up Kiza spine far colder than the winters breath.
He stared them down, not out of some courageous or brave attempt to scare them off but out of paralyzing fear. Not unlike their sudden appearance the mass of eyes vanished as the wind came back to life throwing up more snow.
Kiza hoped they'd leave deciding to hunt better game.
A symphony of howls dispensed this thought
The game had begun.
He bounded in a random direction, one where he believed no howl had originated from, but the wind and harsh snow made it impossible to determine if this was true.
Kiza had no hopes of out running the pack of silver wolves, he had run purely on instinct and he was tired and any adrenaline had long been used when he first dashed out his home.
But still he trudged on, he dodged towering trees, when had he made it to the forest?
He felt himself growing more tired by the second, as if sensing this the pack howled once more.
'Dammit, they wanted me to run to just tire myself. Can they see through the storm?' Kiza pondered.
He had no idea where he was headed he just kept sprinting, he heard a growl behind him and instinctively ducked. He saw a creature lunge over his, missing him it twisted midair so to land facing him. A pair of red eyes greeted him as he knelled in the snow. He backed up, tripped and stopped as the Hunter wolf came closer, a lower rumble emanating from its throat.
He felt a tree's thick trunk on his back as he crawled backwards. He could no longer feel his hands as the pushed aside snow in his futile attempt to keep moving. He wondered if he could climb the tree, but instead stood and ran as more glowing red eyes begun to appear, knowing even if he did manage he'd just freeze to death before the night ended.
They were toying with him, just enjoying the hunt, knowing their prey couldn't escape they let Kiza run.
He was ready to give up and try to make it up a tree and take his chances with nature's rage, when his foot didn't land on ground and he went tumbling down.
Kiza felt like a rag doll as his body twisted and turn as he fell, helpless to gravity's mercy. He crashed through a bush, cutting himself on the branches and twigs while disturbing a sleeping Chipsqueek.
He rolled through snow, causing him to become dizzy and disoriented. Then he felt himself be tossed into the air and he just shot down for a few seconds before slamming into the ground.
Miraculously he was he not only alive but he still had his glasses in tack.
He stood brushing off excess snow as his teeth chattered uncontrollably and he made sure he had all his fingers and toes. He manged to come out with only dislocated left shoulder and a few scratches. Kiza counted himself blessed, he was alive and had lost the hunter wolves.
But he no longer could feel the cold, his body numb he tried to walk but couldn't find the energy he dropped to his knees in defeat.
'Looks like I'm really gonna freeze to death, how pathetic. I wonder if I should have just let the Hunters devour me.'
Something growled and jumped on his back, knocking him down face first into the snow, as powerful jaws clamped down on his injured shoulder, teeth cutting through flesh as Kiza felt a warm liquid spry over him and start dripping down his arm.
His face in the snow he no longer could see how many were there, nor could he scream. Though even if he did Kiza doubted anyone could hear it through the storm.
All he could think about was how he was still conscious as the wolf let out a howl to alert his brethren of where their food had fallen.
"Back off beast!"
Kiza heard somebody shout, their voice cutting through the storm and the sound of sword being drawn followed, someone was close to him a moment later and the weight of the beast vanished off him. He felt someone lift him up and brush the snow out of his eyes, and bring a bottle to his lips.
"Drink this." The voice seemed distant, far off and Kiza was so far gone he couldn't tell if the source was male or female, Kiza knew this was from death beckoning him to give up his life.
He couldn't even see, his vision black blurs.
'Both of us don't have to die' Kiza thought as head swarm.
"H-help...my..shop...some...one...needs...help...go...to hi..mm."
He barely finished the last syllable when his world turned dark.