Hello. The Snow in Wallachia takes place during my story's, The Woods of Arcadia, A Woman's Touch arc. Orihime Inoue is alive and well and Aizen has not yet been defeated by our heroes. ATTENTION: You probably have to read The Woods of Arcadia series to understand this story. Thank you.

The Snow in Wallachia

Part I: The Issue of Mircea the Elder

There was rhythm to his agony, a beat to his heartbreak. A million times over he sucked another profane breath into his frozen lungs and he gasped back to life. There was no release, no death, no all-encompassing blackness. He lived as if he was tarred by unending darkness and fate kept him alive, aware, and spinning on her cruel axis.

There was an uneasy knock on the door of his chamber. His eyes opened instantly, his thick, black lashes beating deafeningly in the empty room. But he had been awake long before; he had been awake the moment his guard had stepped on the very first stair, one hundred steps below. There was another intake of breath, another moment of life without her. He sat up mechanically, the blankets pooling around his waist.

For a moment, there was a youthful innocence in his appearance, as he rubbed his eyes with balled fists. He cleared his throat, his deep, calm voice shaking off the sleepless exhaustion. "Yes?"

"Many pardons, M'Lord …" the man on the other side of the door began. "Trespassers in the forest…"

"I have given my orders." Byakuya answered icily, his slate grey eyes flashing dangerously. He felt the man stir outside of the room, and relished the fear.

"Yes, my Lord…" a second man hissed outside his door. "But, Sir, the trespassers, they aren't Human…"

Byakuya's face twitched, his eyes flashing toward the door. He stood quickly, crossing the room in an instant. He shrugged out of his nightclothes and opened his wardrobe, selecting a tailored black ensemble. He dressed silently, his tongue absently running along his teeth.

Byakuya pushed the heavy, oaken door open, striding outside and in front of the two men. The first was a short man with a mane of unkempt ginger hair. He bowed politely, taking a step back as Byakuya approached. The second was a rather foul-looking man with oily skin and hair.

"M'Lord, three scouts returned this afternoon. We've found them dead. No resuscitation. There seems to be an unknown creature… in the woods… it feasts… well… on flesh…" The little man murmured. Byakuya remained silent and after a few awkward moments, he turned his head, looking up at Byakuya curiously.

Byakuya sighed, a short and impolite sound. It escaped his lips and swirled through the air like a curse word. This man, this peasant, was young and, by the looks of him, stupid. Byakuya cut his eyes, focusing on the man intensely as his deep voice rumbled a single word, "Wolves?"

"Aye, Sir…" the peasant man agreed, nodding his head emphatically. "It's possible."

"I have told you." Byakuya snapped impatiently. "I wish to be left alone…" Byakuya gasped in pain, a terrible agony ripping through his chest, into his stomach and arms. A strange smelled filled his nostrils, the scent pouring into his mouth like the taste of blood.

"It's almost nightfall, Master…" the second man hissed, his dark hair and dark eyes shining. "Perhaps we should prepare your meal…"

"I am not hungry." Byakuya said simply, pushing the unfamiliar scent out of his mind.

"And of the scouts, M'Lord?" the young peasant asked worriedly. "I might be able to recruit some able-bodied men from Muntenia…"

"If you wish to leave, do so." Byakuya spoke lowly, turning around to face the poor soul. "No one else will come to this place."

"But, Lord Byakuya…" the other man began slowly. "We think only of your safety…" He placed a crooked hand on Byakuya's arm pointedly. "There are still many of us who would die for the bloodline of Mircea the Elder…"

"Then you are foolish." Byakuya said, spinning on his heels. "And you will die for nothing."

"Where're you going, M'Lord?" the young peasant called after Byakuya.

"The forest." Byakuya answered.

"I'll get your traveling cloak…"

"I am not a helpless maiden." Byakuya snipped. "And I do not even feel the cold."

The two men had saddled Byakuya's horse quickly, the creature's breath snorting out of its nostrils like smoke. The glossy black mane and tail, the white bald-face markings on his face, his lush black hair, everything was in beautiful, stark contrast to the pure, white snow all around.

The men secretly likened their Master to the horse he climbed upon. He was also dark and beautiful, with pale skin and a dark aura. But unlike the horse, only when he truly remembered to do so, did smoke unfurl from his lips.

"Your crossbow, M'Lord?"

"No." Byakuya replied, adjusting his riding gloves, rather out of habit than necessity. "I would rather, my sword."

"My Lord…" the other began anxiously. "Perhaps we should accompany you?"

"To what end?" Byakuya asked. "Do you think your Lord so ill-fitted that he cannot end the life of a miserable wolf?"

"Of course not." He explained quickly. "I trust my Lord with my life…"

"Go inside." Byakuya instructed. "The weather is worsening."

The two men looked up at the darkening sky. The sun set in the far west and in the eastern sky stars shone brightly, not a cloud in sight. "Aye, Sir." They said obediently, rather curious as to what their lord meant.

A slight breeze fluttered through the trees, the frozen, frosted branches creaking under the pressure. Byakuya straightened on his horse, inhaling deeply, his eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on the reins. "There's a child in the forest."

"A child, Sir?"

"Everyone knows, this forest is not safe, especially at night." Byakuya murmured, clicking his tongue in instruction to his horse. The horse began to canter through the trees, Byakuya's chest pressed closely against the animal and away from low-lying branches.

It was already too late when Byakuya realized they were close enough to touch him. With great force they rammed into his horse, knocking the poor creature sideways into a tree. The horse made a terrible agonized noise and Byakuya's eyes narrowed furiously. He was able to catch himself before the horse rolled onto its side and he landed on the icy ground with a snarl.

"Do not touch my horse, filthy vermin." Byakuya said calmly, his heart beating slowly in his chest. Bum-Bum-pause. Bum-Bum-stop. He pulled his sword from his scabbard and shook his head. "I will cut off your hands for fouling my property…"

The horse panicked, slipping on ice as he tried to escape. Byakuya felt a momentary pang of fear and swallowed it quickly. "I will kill my own horse before I allow him to die at your hands."

Byakuya inspected them. They were an assorted lot, about twenty in all, all ages and genders, but each and every one of them was a monster. They were humans, or had been, but now their skin was translucent, sick blue streaks giving them the appearance of a ghastly sea creature. Their hands had become twisted and knobbed, their thick nails long and pointed for hunting. But the most terrifying feature they possessed, even more so than their black, vacant eyes, were their mouths.

Their mouths were stretched horrifically, several rows of razor-sharp teeth protruding past their lips. In his youth, Byakuya had read about a fish, half-way across the world that had a similarly strange mouth. And for a while he could pretend the problem was something altogether unconnected to him. But ultimately, these were the mountains of Europe and not some equatorial feeding ground. Humans were supposedly the top of the food chain.

"Lord Byakuya…" one of the creatures hissed. "You've left your fortress…"

"…Not a wise decision…"

"All alone in the woods at night…"

"…All alone, except for us…"

"…We'll rip you apart…"

"I want to eat!"

"I want his hands! I want his hands!"

"…Then… Then I want his guts…"

"It is one thousand years too early for you to challenge me." Byakuya appeared to shout, even though he didn't even need to raise his voice. "I do not care how many of you there are… There will never be enough to defeat me…"

Byakuya moved expertly, his sword slicing through three of the creature's bellies at once. Putrid, rotting intestine poured from their stomachs and into the snow. Steam issued as the warm organs and excessively foul blood melted the top layer of snow.

The creatures made their move, a group of five pouncing on Byakuya's horse. He turned quickly, his heart beating once, then twice in his chest. His sword pressed against the horse's neck and then, with a strangled cry, he lunged his blade into one of the creatures. "I told you not to touch my horse."

Searing hot pain exploded throughout his back as one of the creatures grabbed hold. He ignored the sting, slicing and cutting every single thing that dared to maim his horse. Once free, the horse struggled once more to stand. Byakuya lowered his weapon, placing his hand gently against the horse's muzzle. "Go home, Huzulei."

The horse stood at last, his heavy face knocking against Byakuya's cheek affectionately. And then the horse took off, kicking and snorting haphazardly through the forest. Byakuya rolled his shoulders backward, his hands reaching behind him and wrenching the creature away from his torn and bloodied flesh.

Byakuya turned and faced the twelve creatures, blood dripping into the snow beneath his feet. "You do not understand," Byakuya murmured, turning his sword over in his hands. "I do not fear death, not because I am brave, but because I cannot die…"

"I have killed you once before and I shall do it again… and again… and again…" Byakuya said firmly. "Such is my cross to bear."

"Eat…"

"We must eat…"

"Flesh…"

"Blood…"

"…Just a bite, my Lord…"

"Just a taste…"

"… We've become like this… because of you…"

A peculiar growl escaped Byakuya's lips and within moments the creatures fell to the ground, their blood spilling into the frozen earth. He wiped his sword on his ruined shirt and shoved it back in the scabbard. "Disgusting, filthy, vermin."

Byakuya sighed impatiently before looking around the forest. More creatures hid in the darkness. He could hear them scuffling around in the dark. He could smell the blood on their breaths. He could almost taste the fear and confusion that oozed from them like perfume. None had the courage, or perhaps desire, to face him.

And then the scent hit him again, stronger this time. It was a child, no doubt a female. The wind carried her scent for miles, and if Byakuya could smell her, then there was no doubt the creatures could as well. An eerie laugh filled the forest, them, they laughed at him, mocked him and his inability to act.

"You have it wrong." Byakuya called out to no one in particular. He just wanted the horrible cacophony of laughter to stop. "I do not care. I protect my castle. Anyone foolish enough to enter this forest deserves death."

Byakuya leisurely began to walk, adjusting his torn shirt, dozens of eyes watching him. His boots crunched the snow underfoot noisily as he trekked aimlessly down an abandoned footpath. And then he disappeared, reappearing suddenly several yards ahead of where he stood moments before. He moved forward in such a fashion, crossing the forest quickly.

Byakuya stopped in his tracks, kneeling down beside the carcass in surprise. It was one of them, and it had been obliterated. Byakuya exhaled in confusion, staring down at the mangled body with interest. Not once, never, had he managed to kill one. He realized the scouts had been correct, he needed to see this.

He examined the body, realizing with morbid fascination, that it had been eaten, by some large, vicious animal. Byakuya let out a breath, steam curling from his lips, his heart throbbing softly for several beats. "What is this?" Byakuya spoke aloud, his gloved hand brushing against the now frozen flesh of the creature.

A twig cracked about one hundred yards away and Byakuya's head snapped to attention. He scanned the forest, that peculiar scent hitting him again. His chest ached and he took an involuntary breath, surprise causing his eyes to widen. He stood quickly, swallowing the bitter taste of unease.

He ran toward one of the larger trees, running up the trunk and spinning around a large branch. He landed nimbly, one hand gripping a branch and the other tucking a strand of black hair behind his ear. He surveyed the area, his keen eyes discovering several of them nearby. He ignored them, they were of no consequence to him, his interest, instead, was piqued by the unfamiliar scent permeating that part of the woods.

There was a Human. But she wasn't alone. The scent, the scent of blood and death, followed her, whoever she was. Byakuya inhaled deeply, his mouth salivating. He shook his head to clear it and pressed himself closely against the barren tree.

Moments later three people, two men and a female child, came into view. They were masking their own scents, but nothing could cover the absolute ecstasy of human blood. Byakuya swallowed silently, covering his mouth with his gloved hand.

"Hey, wait…" The larger man paused, his hand brushing over the other man's arm. Byakuya narrowed his eyes in bewilderment; he couldn't understand or recognize the language the man spoke in.

"What is it?" The white haired man asked, grabbing onto the girl's shoulder firmly. "Wait, Orihime."

"There's something here." The larger man murmured, looking around the vast white forest with interest.

"It's cold." Orihime complained, looking up at the white-haired man with large, brown eyes.

"I know." The white-haired one agreed, pulling her coat more closely around her.

"Stop talking…" The larger man groaned, shaking his head. "I'm trying to listen…" He sighed heavily, "What're you two thinking?"

"You'd be dead without us." A voice called down from the trees. "It's pathetic really."

Byakuya's entire body grew rigid. He looked up and to his right, searching the trees for the source of the voice. It took Byakuya several seconds to realize the man was not speaking to him. He felt a fleeting moment of anxiety, he was uncomfortable not understanding the foreigners.

"What are they?" The large man on the ground asked, ignoring the slight. "Are they like us?"

"The scent is off. The scent is wrong… somehow…" A disembodied voice whispered. Byakuya's eyes narrowed on the spot where he assumed a person should be standing.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" The other man, a wild looking man with dark skin and red hair, asked as he lowered himself from the frozen branch. His beautiful long, red hair cascaded messily into his face as he walked forward.

"They're dangerous." The large man breathed, his hand tapping the hilts of his dual swords.

"That's what I was thinking." The redhead agreed.

"We're not in any danger." The mysterious voice said, rippling into view as his body took form. "They haven't even realized we're here." The ginger-haired man bent down into a squat, his arm wrapping around Orihime. Her cheeks burned brightly but he seemed not to notice. "It's her that they're tracking…"

"Hey, what's that?" The white-haired man asked, stepping forward to examine one of the dead creatures.

"He's been here." The large man said softly, nudging the dead monster with his foot. He didn't seem alarmed by the presence of the creature and Byakuya found it rather curious. They were frightening- hideous and vile, after all.

Byakuya considered whether to expose himself or not. He didn't sense any mal-intent from the men, per se, but he certainly felt a peculiar sense of death lingering over them. And what about the obvious language barrier? He deliberated another few seconds before his mind was made up for him.
"There is something…" The girl, Orihime she was called, looked up into the sky, her finger pointing directly at him. "It watches us."

The large man followed with his gaze, a smile crossing his face, a smile which told Byakuya that he had known he was there the entire time. Byakuya didn't return the smile. Instead he dropped to the ground in front of the men. The snow crunched violently beneath his feet as he straightened himself.

"Hello." The large man said in nearly perfect Slavic. "We're travelers…" the man began to explain, as if this meeting were the most natural thing in the world. "Where is the nearest inn?"

"There is no inn here." Byakuya replied in Romanian, watching the four men with interest.

"Ah, well, it's very cold." The man continued in Romanian, gesturing to the girl pointedly. "Is there any place we could stay? We have money."

"Have you not heard of this place?" Byakuya asked. "This is not a place for her kind."

The man opened his coin purse, pulling out several strings and holding them out in display. Byakuya shook his head curtly. He had seen this trick before, a lifetime ago it seemed, when a court sorcerer had managed to create money from a single string. The trick had earned him quite a reputation with the gathering, but all Byakuya ever saw was a worthless string. "Witchcraft is punishable by death."

"I doubt you're in a position to report us." The man said dryly, exchanging a look with the white-haired man. The white-haired man looked anxious, his hand tightly gripping the girl. Byakuya decided he didn't understand his language and, after his own incident, he silently took pity upon him.

"I have no obligation to offer my hearth to foreigners, especially foreigners who trespass onto my land." Byakuya determined. "However, these woods are very dangerous." A wolf pack howled in the distance as if on cue. "You may take shelter at my estate. In the morning I expect you and your party to move on."

"Thank you." the man said with a charming smile. "That's very generous."

Byakuya clicked his tongue in agitation and the other man smiled even wider. Byakuya cleared his throat and cut his eyes, "My home is this way. We will take this path; it is less dangerous than the one we currently travel."

The girl whispered in the strange tongue, the white-haired man murmuring in response. Byakuya listened curiously, his back turned toward them. The large man stepped forward, gesturing to his party and speaking in the same language. The group moved forward, following Byakuya through the woods.

Their breaths escaped through their noses and mouths and, by the time they reached the wrought-iron gate, the white-haired man and the child appeared to be frozen. Byakuya watched the other three; they took deep, heavy breaths and the sleet that fell melted against their skin instantly. Their skin was dark, tanned and they almost had the appearance of being feverish. And their scents, they weren't entirely human.

"M'Lord!"

"Master, you've returned…"

"Please prepare a fire." Byakuya instructed. "We have guests."

The two attendants looked at the group suspiciously. "Where on earth did you come from?"

"Where is my horse?" Byakuya asked, ignoring the exasperated looks on their faces. "Has Huzulei returned?"

"Yes, m'Lord." The ginger-haired peasant replied. "We tended to his wounds, Sir."

"Start the fire." Byakuya commanded, looking directly at the oily-haired man.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Come inside." Byakuya said, walking up the stone steps to his home. "I was not prepared for company, so you will have to excuse my-"

Byakuya's voice cut off the instant the large man's blade pressed between his shoulder blades. "I'm sorry about this," the man said. "But I have to destroy every piece of them."

"Them?" Byakuya asked curiously, making no attempt to escape. He looked up in surprise as the red-haired man dropped in front of him. He grabbed Byakuya's shoulders with scorching hot hands, pinning him in place. "You mean those in the forest?"

The girl spoke quickly, this time in Italian which he spoke almost fluently. "The heart! It's his heart! Stab him through the heart!"

Byakuya's eyes widened in horror, how could she know such a thing. And then with a delirious mixture of fear and relief, "You are Hunters…"

The man's sword pierced into his back and out through his chest. He let out a miserable gasp and his body slumped heavily onto the sword. The red-haired man's eyes slatted devilishly, strange snake-like scales spreading across his face. "No… what are you?"

"We are Hunters." The large man explained, twisting the knife. Blood poured from his wound and smeared across the ice beneath his feet. "I'll send Aizen your regards in Hell."

The man removed the sword and, as soon as the red-haired man released him, Byakuya crumpled to the ground. He coughed weakly, blood sputtering out of his mouth and across his deathly white face. Byakuya lifted his head upward, his eyes staring at the sky thoughtfully, "Who is Aizen?"

"Aizen…" the man said quietly, exchanging looks with the others skeptically. "He's the man who holds your contract. Your source of power…"

Byakuya laughed, a sickly, vicious laugh, that spread the heavy scent of blood into the air. "I am an ancestor of Mircea the Great, father of Vlad Dracul, grandfather of Vlad the Impaler…." A chorus of laughter echoed throughout the forest and the two men stepped away from Byakuya quickly. Blood oozed down his chest, pooling beneath his feet as he stood. The group of men searched the trees anxiously, each man gripping their swords tightly. Byakuya shook his head, his gloved finger pressing against his gaping wound. "And I received my power from the Devil himself."