Four days had passed since Yuuri made a mockery of tradition, challenging his idol and his rival to a dance competition and trouncing them both. Four days since he'd woke under color stained sun rays, aching and confused with the fading effects of liquor and exhaustion. Since the first time he'd seen beyond Victor's veil and felt secure enough in lifting his own.
When he'd come to later that afternoon to Makkachin snuggling at his side, the plush of her likeness abandoned on the carpet, Victor had already gone. Yuuri hadn't seen him since, leaving little evidence to convince him the entire thing wasn't a drunken fabrication.
He began engaging in small rituals to convince himself of its validity. With Makkachin's keen sense of direction, he retraced their steps through the dark, stone corridors and up the narrow staircase to the secret suite just to confirm he hadn't imagined it. He organized the set of mysterious ice figurines the staff delivered to his chambers the next day in a row on his window ledge and stared at them routinely— a rose crown, a toy poodle, a pork cutlet bowl with too small cutlets and a rainbow among the dozen (He'd given the hamster to Phichit). He even began watching the infamous vlogs. Some were innocent enough. Shopping. Simple dance performances. Goofing around in hotels and hostels, the photos he carried of Victor lurking humiliatingly in the backdrop. Others...
He peeked for the hundredth time to make sure he was alone in the corridor before starting the next video, 'Drunk Pilgrimaging with Yuuri #3 A.K.A I Saw a Dancer So Beautiful I Started Crying?'
He stared in shameful disbelief as he gripped the pole of the Southland dance club, ascending rapidly and reaching for the two long, flowing strings of pink fabric that hung beside it. This was it. The video Victor mentioned. He covered his eyes partially, not wanting to look, but unable to turn away as he grasped the thick ribbons and soared across the stage like a seafaring hero, legs open in a split. It wasn't that the aerial arts weren't admirable. If he thought so, he never would have taken them up. But did he have to look so wantonly at the audience, his unbuttoned dress shirt loose and rumpled, his black speedos beaming in the glare of the overhead lights?
Yuuri should have seen this coming long ago. One late night, as he tiptoed down the steps for the bathroom, he'd observed his father humiliating himself in front of their onsen guests. Right then, at the tender age of eight, he made a declaration to never end up this way. His father was a good man, but so mild mannered and humble that all of his impulse and spirit roared out of him unbridled the moment his inhibitions lowered. The apple had barely broken from the tree. In these moments, impulse control was a fancy. And Yuuri had a lot of spirit.
"I..." His 22-year-old self babbled into the mic, the entire club roaring with applause. "I want to thank my family! And Yuko and the girls! And my cameraman!"
"You're welcome, Yuuri!" A tipsy Phichit boomed into the mic offscreen. He was recording, as always.
"And Minako! And Celestino!"' he rambled on excitedly. "And Victor!"
Present day Yuuri cringed.
"I LOVE YOU, VICTOR!" he declared, winking and blowing a kiss.
"Yuuri! Yuuri!" Phichit again. "Tell us more about Victor!"
"Victor..." Yuuri considered the name. "Is the most beautiful dancer in the world! In..." he hiccuped. "History!" Tears pooled in his eyes. "Victor! If you're watching please come to Hasetsu! We can take baths together at the onsen! And do secret dances..." he purred suggestively and his current self wanted to die.
"Only a Primaja can do those dances!" someone humored him from the crowd.
"I'LL BE PRIMAJA!" Yuuri pumped his fist up, raising the mic high. "COACH ME, VICTOR!"
The club goers cheered.
"1000 likes and Victor will coach Yuuri!" Phichit promised from behind the phone.
"BE MY COACH, VICTOR!" Yuuri gave two peace signs to the camera, eyes glistening as he raised his ankle high, leg straight, to grasp it with one hand just because. The audience roared with applause.
"OKAY!" He announced, hopping down from the stage. "TIME FOR A GRIND LINE!"
The inebriated masses began to gather around him and current Yuuri let the phone drop to his lap, mortified. This was the most embarrassing of them all. How many people had seen these?!
Sighing, he stood and moved to smooth down the black sweatpants and grey hoodie. He would have to repair the capitol's image of him now. While it was certainly no excuse for his cruelty, Victor and the rest of the palace likely viewed him as a careless party animal who couldn't handle his liquor, let alone a position as significant as Primaja. Well, he thought, pulling his lengthy, blue parka from the bench and stretching it around his shoulders. He would fix that...
He tugged a grey knitted wool cap marked 'EASTLAND SEA LIONS ' over his head— a remnant of an old dance team. Enough vlogs. Time to do what he'd left his room for in the first place.
The towering corridor shifted into a large hall the more he walked, palace officials rushing all around him— nobles and politicians, advisors and secretaries. They passed him in a rush sparing shy, short glances, hushed whispers on their lips. He attributed part of this to his actions at the ball. Goddess knows he'd frightened quite a few of them. But there was another crucial element in Jean-Jacques Leroy. JJ and his system breach were still the talk of the town and, according to the media and the military, there hadn't been a peep out of him since. In fact, save for their ever growing activity in the Eastlands, the fire population remained relatively quiet— eerily so. The capitol had been calm, but an ominous type of calm. The kind that kept people on their toes.
Life in the palace in general moved slow over the past days without Victor. Yuuri hadn't realized just how much his struggle for Victor's acceptance and their 'training' had distracted him. For the first few days without the Primaja, Makkachin, Minako and the guard kept him company. What Makkachin summoned in the darkest recesses of his mind, intense guilt and traumatic memories, she made up for with nostalgia and enthusiasm. They toured the palace together in the mornings and she always accompanied him to the kitchens where, unable to resist her pleading gaze, he fed her entire halves of his meals. When Minako wasn't off with her latest beau, she escorted him to practice at famed worship sites around the capitol. Mila introduced him to museums with artifacts from the old world and a music conservatory, Phichit practiced with him at the indoor palace rink and Chris, military maestro he was, attempted to guide him through a few ice-based warrior tricks for self defense. His magic didn't bite. All three guards dragged him to a club the second night where Chris made numerous efforts to coax him into drinking— something he was far too scarred by the past week to entertain. Especially with Phichit present.
The last few days, however, had been less than entertaining. Makkachin ceased to visit him in the mornings, vanishing just as Victor had. Minako was clearly in the honeymoon phase of her relationship and Chris summoned all military personnel to meet about some confidential business that Yuuri didn't possess the clout to know. He roamed the corridors half hoping he'd run into Victor, paged through a few books in the library and practiced alone. He struggled to meditate, but the experience was rarely pleasant. It disconcerted him, sinking so deeply into himself, always terrified of what he might find there. In truth, he didn't remember much of his magic at all. Overwhelming flame singed over the recollections and he found it blazing at him all too often when he closed his eyes. So that afternoon, after his latest failed attempt, he'd decided on something different to clear his thoughts. A walk.
He continued out of the hall and down a winding stone staircase into the main foyer of the palace. His guard awaited him there beside one of the white, veiny stone pillars that surrounded the oak doors, his posture erect and stately as usual, eyes solemn.
"Mickey!" Yuuri waved. He had taken to addressing the man by his nickname in hopes that he'd return it with a more casual moniker for himself. He never did.
"Lord Katsuki!" Michele saluted immediately upon spotting him. "I am aptly prepared to guard you during your walk, sir!"
Yuuri struggled to keep his smile in place. He wasn't aware that walks took so much preparation. "G— Great!"
Two palace guards, draped in coats of navy and grey, gripped the silver plated knobs and eased them open. A gust of chilled air blew over them instantly and Yuuri drew in a deep breath that cooled his lungs. He shuddered and drew his parka in around him, still not quite accustomed to the Westland's frosty weather. But the sun's glare on the gleaming, white snow and the sound of the wind whistling through the pine lined path to the gates invigorated him.
They started down the salted stone steps of the palace toward the main courtyard where people marveled at ice sculptures of the Goddess dancing, a matronly smile frozen on her lips, long hair flowing behind her in tendrils.
"Heavenly, isn't she, Lord Katsuki?" Michele asked. "No woman can compete with the Goddess's beauty."
"Mm." Yuuri blinked up at the statue in thought. No living being had documented proof of actually beholding the Goddess. Her likeness had been theorized, formed by sculptors and painters, passed down through generations. Regardless, she was beautiful. While it was true that no woman he knew equaled her beauty, Yuuri always thought Victor more than compared. They even shared similarities— the silver tresses, the tall frame, icy blue eyes that melted when they smiled. Practically kin. He started to say so when Michele cut him off.
"But my Sara comes close." His eyes dampened, shoulders shrugging downward. Yuuri tensed, all too familiar with these episodes by now. He yanked nervously at his hat, pulling it down further over his eyes, and nodded as they padded toward the gates, their boots shining with wetness.
"I'm sure she's very beautiful from what you've told me."
Michele's brows sank low, chin jutted out. "Are you thinking of hitting on my sister?"
Yuuri's eyes ballooned. "Wh— what?! No!" He started to argue further when he caught a familiar face just beyond the fuming guard and his eyes lit up.
"Yurio!" he called with a wave.
Per usual, Yuri froze next to Otabek like an animal under a hunter's gun. Then he cursed under his breath and promptly skirted away, hands shoved in the pockets of his black, leopard print jacket. Otabek gave Yuuri a curious look before heading after his ward. Yuuri sighed. It was always like this. After the ball, he'd wanted to break the tension a bit before their next training together. He wondered how the boy would take actually having to train with him as an equal. Though Victor seemed remorseful enough, he somehow doubted that Yuri felt the same. Victor's cruel treatment was always delivered cooly with little to no real emotion, almost strained. Yuri's, with the utmost, genuine glee. Yuuri shook his head. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
"So Mickey," he started, hoping he'd forgotten his anger over the past minute, as they strolled across a quaint brick bridge over an iced lake. "It's been almost a week since Victor went to dance at the shrine..." He eyed him hopefully, praying for answers. "Does he always take so long to come back?"
"It is suspicious to be sure, Lord Katsuki." Michele crossed his arms, eyes serious. "He's been disappearing more and more for spells after his performances and they say not even the council knows where he goes."
"Oh." Yuuri nodded with a frown.
"Maybe Sara is there too." Michele's eyes narrowed into slits. "She did say she found him attractive once..."
Yuuri pulled his coat tighter around himself as they entered a dense cluster of Evergreens, snow routinely falling from the lofty branches in clumps. Perhaps Victor had left the capitol for a vacation somewhere? Primaja needed to sneak away sometimes too, right? But deep down, Yuuri knew that couldn't be true. Victor was close by. He wasn't certain how, but he could feel it as sure as the cold creeping into his skin. Shade continued to fall over them as they walked further into the brush, shielded from the wind chill, but cut off from the sun. A stray branch caught on his boot and he nearly face planted forward. He shook his head. Best to focus on the present.
"Do you at least have any idea where she's being held?" he asked Michele, directing his thoughts back to Sara.
"No idea." Michele shrugged violently, his black guard's cloaks rustling on his shoulders. "Firestarters move around quickly, you know, corrupting everything they touch." His teeth gritted, a look of utter disgust on his features. "Like rats."
Yuuri's lips folded into a frown and he clutched his arms at the memory of his own screams, white hot fire blazing all around him. Relating the story to Victor had only made the memory feel that much closer. His chest tightened and he paused in the middle of the clearing in the woods, breathing shaky from more than just the cold. How much suffering would the capitol have its people endure at the hands of firestarters before...
His thoughts trailed off, thinking of Mila's friend at the conservatory, fireborn but also an exceptionally talented pianist who smiled shyly and thanked him at least a dozen times for attending her performance. Of Chris's mischievous features grinning at him over the bar top- fingers curled around his shot glass as he went on about his own childhood in the Eastlands, dire but entertaining nonetheless. Of Victor's approval and trust in the man. Conflicting emotions swirled inside of him and his throat constricted. Before what?
"We should lock them all up." Michele went on. "These things wouldn't happen if—" He stopped when his phone began to buzz. Yanking it from his pocket, his eyes went wide when they caught the screen and he answered immediately. "Have you found her?"
Yuuri listened hopefully at the start of the conversation, but in just moments, it took a decidedly negative turn as Michele's features grew less optimistic, more exasperated and then angry, berating the poor soul on the other end. Eager to escape from the cloud of dark energy his guard currently emanated, Yuuri wandered to the peripheral of the clearing, back into the brush.
"What do you mean it's hopeless?!" Michele screamed into the receiver from behind him and Yuuri sighed, settling against a tree. If only he could have gone by himself... He'd grown accustomed to doing things on his own. Starting pilgrimages alone before he'd met Phichit. Practicing at the rink while Yuko entertained her family at home. Walking the springs and mountain trails of Hasetsu with nothing but his own thoughts to accompany him. He rather enjoyed it, coming from a large family with the ever present bustle of the onsen. Even if it wasn't always the safest option, he enjoyed the serene quiet it brought him, an inner shelter of sorts.
The capitol was different. The council required that he be escorted at all times save for certain secure areas of the palace. He could barely walk from his bedroom to the snow gardens alone without someone having a fit.
"What did you say?!" Michele yelled, face completely red now, even with his soft tan. "How dare you talk about my sister that way!"
Yuuri sighed. They would probably have to return to the palace now. It was either that or forcing Mickey to remain, raging about the grounds, starting rash arguments with anyone who looked like they might be interested in his sister which— according to him— was the vast majority of the population. Yuuri stared up into the sky, watching a cardinal fly overhead with a touch of envy. Perhaps with Michele occupied, he could sneak to the gardens later... He started to turn back to let his guard know that they could return to the palace when something stopped him cold.
"Please! No!"
The hairs on the back of his neck spiked and he zipped around to the clearing again to face Michele. The man still glared into the snow, shoulders hunched, eyes maddened as he hurled insults and obscenities into the phone receiver. The words had come from somewhere else.
Yuuri wandered further from the clearing, maneuvering from tree to tree, searching for the source. Finally, he spotted them at the very edge of the wooded area where the impenetrable grey stone of the palace gates stood tall, the expansive city lying just beyond. Seung-gil and two of his underlings stood at the base, staring down a young man who kneeled before them. Medium length dark reddish hair was swept up and tied in a ponytail behind him. He wore a flimsy brown tweed jacket, his shoulders heaving under it, head bowed.
"I don't understand." He held his hands up and they vibrated oddly. He was trembling. "I wasn't doing anything wrong. I swear!"
One of the men at Seung-gil's side snickered from beneath a heavy, black helmet. Flame retardant no doubt. "A hellraiser expecting us to take him at his word?"
The other man joined in, laughing even louder. "Hilarious."
Seung-gil's expression remained as vacant as Yuuri had ever seen it, the only movement present in the wind teasing his dark mane and the ends of his coats. "Your people have been skulking around the palace a lot lately. Do you have approval to be here?"
The man swallowed hard, eyes drifting toward his waist. "I— It's in my pocket."
Seung-gil reached down and plucked a square grey object from the man's pocket. A wallet. He rifled through it for a few moments before pausing, cold, black eyes sliding toward him again.
"Leo De Iglesias, is it?"
Leo nodded slowly. "I recently joined Captain Giacometti's program—"
"I don't remember seeing your name listed." Seung-gil cut in.
Leo clenched his fists. "This is ridiculous! It's not illegal to walk the palace grounds. I didn't do anything wrong!"
The guard to Seung-gil's left raised his gun instantly and Yuuri started, eyes going wide. A gust of icy mist exploded from the barrel, enveloping the man in frost so arctic that it created a fine layer of flakes almost on impact, his skin going pale and blue.
Leo cried out, lifting his arms to shield himself. "I'm wearing a muzzle!" He cried out, the pain evident in his voice. "I'M WEARING A MUZZLE!" He waved his arm about recklessly, the black gleaming over his wrist.
"He's resisting!" The other guard cried and Yuuri recognized him— an average, but amicable dancer he'd met on pilgrimage once. He reached out, a ribbon of ice shooting from his palm to encircle Leo's neck. Leo shielded himself, but the ice formed a loop regardless, entrapping both his neck and his wrist inside. The ice built upon itself until Leo collapsed on his side, blue in the face.
"I can't breathe," he whimpered into the snow, breathing labored, eyes pleading.
Seung-gil only watched him, unfeeling, almost expectant, as he began kicking fruitlessly, feet and elbows flailing, trying to hold on to consciousness.
Yuuri's feet still rooted him behind the pine trunk. His heartbeat raced at an unbearable speed, sweat building beneath his coat and coating his forehead. Something screamed at him from deep inside, its roar piercing and urgent but he could not will himself to move. Suddenly, a clump of snow tumbled from a branch above him, falling onto his back and something snapped into place.
"STOP!" he cried as he raced toward them, knees and fists pumping, just in time for Leo to hit the ground, unmoving. The ice fell away from him, glittering and misting into the air, magic evaporated.
Seung-gil and his men turned around to peer at Yuuri, eyes narrowed.
"Lord Katsuki?" Seung-gil concluded after leaning in to get a better look at him beneath the hat and the collar of his coat.
"Hey!" The familiar guard grinned widely. "Katsuki sir! We used to pilgrimage together!" He chuckled. "Remember that night—"
"Is he alright?!" Yuuri shouted, without any forethought, his voice cracking, chest still drumming violently. "Is he alive?!" He moved toward the still fire dancer with tentative hands, but the guards immediately blocked his path.
"This is a military matter." Seung-gil stated blankly. "Go back to the palace where it's safe, Lord Katsuki. The grounds have been rather dangerous lately."
"A military matter?" Disbelief spread over Yuuri's face, followed swiftly by horror. How could he be so calm?! He attempted to maneuver past them and they huddled closer together. "H— He wasn't doing anything! I saw-"
"We're taking him in for questioning and that's that." Seung-gil said with surprising finality. "You've barely been here for a month, Katsuki," he said, abandoning the honorific. "I've been dealing with these people for the last decade. I've seen what they're capable of and I know suspicious behavior when I see it."
Yuuri started to say that Leo didn't look as though he were capable of much of any type of behavior at the moment but when he looked back to eye the unconscious man, he nearly gasped. Another man with blond hair and concerned bright blue eyes crept slowly toward Leo, arms raised, steps slow and deliberate. He hovered over him, lips moving frantically with one word. Probably his name. Worry twisted his features and Yuuri ached for him. When the stranger noticed Yuuri's gaze on him, he froze, eyes wide.
Yuuri gulped. If they were friends, there might be chance this man was a firestarter too. If he realized, Seung-gil and his men would surely take them both. Or worse. He noticed the general's attention following his gaze and his eyes widened. He had to distract him!
"This is an outrage!" he cried and all three of the soldier's heads whipped back to him. A blush flooded his cheeks. "Eh... um..." he stammered. "Y— You can't get away with this! You might have killed him!"
Seung-gil raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. "Can't get away with this?" he repeated. "Lady Baranovskaya encourages these interventions. Their presence around the palace does not sit well with her."
"W— Well," Yuuri started, taking a quick glance over Seung-gil's shoulder to see the blond man tugging Leo's body over the snow. He stopped mid-tug to give him a quick thumbs up. "What about the rest of the council? If I talked to Elder Celestino-"
"Ah, yes." A bitter smirk fixed on Seung-gil's lips. "I'm sure the son of a hellraiser would be quite upset indeed."
Real anger, raw and irrepressible, flared from within Yuuri, his mission to distract forgotten. "That's just a rumor!" he cried and something pulsed out of him, heavy and electric. "And even if it were true, Celestino wouldn't stand for this type of treatment! It doesn't matter what his element is!"
Seung-gil's lips dipped downward, his sneer transforming into a grimace.
The guard that Yuuri was unfamiliar with, a stocky man with brown stubble under his helmet, eyed Yuuri nervously. "You wanna be careful with this one, general. Remember what he did to the grounds? And then at the Quarter Ball—"
"I remember," Seung-gil said in a stern tone, annoyance snarling his mouth. "I was there." His vacant gaze fell on Yuuri again, eyes trailing up to his 'Eastlands' hat and then back to him. "You know, it's no wonder you have such a soft spot for firestarters. Growing up in the Eastlands must have had a strong effect on your formative years. Watching their tribes passing through. Playing in the hot springs. Finding fun rocks." His gaze lowered to the pendant at Yuuri's chest. "Seemingly harmless."
"He was harmless," Yuuri stared at his feet, fists clenched with frustration. "He's wearing a muzzle."
"It's sad how you and Nikiforov defend these creatures." Seung-gil sighed, arms crossed. "They pretend to be civil but their magic is rooted in fire. Fire maddens them, unhinges them. Why do you think they dance the way they do? Logically, they're not much different from wild animals. They're dangerous and they should be treated as such."
Yuuri stood speechless for a moment. Not because the general's words sat well with him now, but because once, they were an absolute. These were common beliefs among the iceborn and non-elementals, in the Eastlands and the world over. As children, firestarters equaled to bogeymen waiting to snatch them up and carry them away to burn at a sacrificial pyre. The men, savages. The women, wanton sirens. Every fire related role in his childhood skits with Nishigori and Yuko amounted to a villain and little else. Seung-gil only parroted the beliefs of his family, friends and mentors. His childhood experiences had done little to challenge them.
Still he couldn't help but root for the mysterious blond man as he edged Leo further and further into the wood, toward a black and blue object resting against a tree. Its polished, metallic surface gleamed in the sun where the Evergreen branches parted and Yuuri realized that it was a vehicle of some sort. He clenched his fists. Just a little longer.
"H— He should at least get a trial," Yuuri stammered, struggling to extend the conversation, to keep their attentions on him.
"A trial." Seung-gil scoffed, focusing black, vacant eyes on Yuuri. "Have you ever seen what a firestarter's magic can do? The black, charred bodies? The smell of burning flesh?"
Yuuri's shoulders went stiff, his equilibrium failing him, stomach churning and tightening up into knots. Unwanted memories began to resurface but, before he could lose himself completely, the sound of a revving motor boomed in his ears, jolting him out of the spell. Seung-gil's normally expressionless features contorted in surprise and his men spun on their heels just in time to see the blond speeding away with Leo strapped to the back of his motor sled.
"You don't know what I've seen." Yuuri said softly before backing away, a hint of a smile on his lips as he watched the guards scramble over themselves to keep an eye on the sled. The non-elemental guard relieved his weapon from its canister immediately and started forward, firing icy blasts into the wood. The other followed closely on his tail, sending ice shards toward the sound of the motor.
Yuuri grimaced. If those shards punctured the wheels or the engine, Leo and his friend were as good as frozen. As if on impulse, he closed his eyes, pressing his palms together. Power blossomed from his chest and pressed outward, whipping wildly inside of him until the hairs over his skin stood on end. He reached upward with perfect poise and, with a flourish of his hand, the energy exploded from his person, rocketing in a straight line through the ground before him, ridging the snow. A row of trees directly in the guards' path shook, snow cascading from their branches and toppling over the men with enough force to bring them to their knees.
As their groaning filled the air and the sound of the motor drifted further and further away, Yuuri stared at the scene, wide eyed. He'd done it again! Pride filled him to the brim and then swiftly gave way to horror. He'd done it again… He blinked, frozen in place, stricken. He'd used the Goddess's raw power for his own gain for a second time. And of all the reasons, to assist firestarters.
"Katsuki." His focus zoomed back in on the scene and he noticed Seung-gil and his men staring at him. He nearly yelped, snatching his limbs in from the dancer's pose and laughing nervously.
Seung-gil continued to peer into him, slitted eyes blatantly accusing. "You uprooted trees, right? At the palace rink?"
"Ah…" Yuuri trailed off, heartbeat hammering. "Um…"
"Doesn't seem like something any dancer should be able to do."
Yuuri started to inch away. "I think I hear Mickey calling me so…" he lied, waving. "I have to go!" With that, he took off racing back into the woods, the Goddess's energy still buzzing at the surface of his skin. He didn't blame the general for being suspicious. He was confused himself. Why had the Goddess allowed him this? And what good would it do him at her shrine where his elemental magic was most important?
He traveled further and further in the wood, the shadows of the pine trees dancing over him, the sky shading darker with noon. The day's first snowfall had began, tiny flecks swaying slowly toward the ground, kissing the exposed skin of his face lightly with frost and blanketing the forest in silence. The wood grew more and more quiet the farther he roamed, away from the bumbling guards, from Seung-gil's cool words and Michele's rage. This is what he'd wanted, he thought as he adjusted his parka, pulling the puffy material tighter around him. A quiet place to wander. So then why did he still feel so on edge?
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned in its direction. A shadowy figure stared straight back at him from behind an Evergreen trunk just meters away and he stiffened in place, adrenaline surging, pupils dilating. The figure vanished the moment he'd spotted it and he gasped, conflicting thoughts battling in his mind. Should he try to get a closer look or rush back to the palace as though his life depended on it? What if it actually did?
"H— Hello?" he called weakly. Perhaps it was Michele, sad and sullen over another futile hunt?
Nothing but a steady stream of silence greeted him, save for the faint sound of wind whistling through the trees overhead. Michele would have responded.
Best to leave, Yuuri decided as he pulled his phone from his pocket to summon his compass application with quivering fingers. His eyes darted nervously to the spot the shadowy figure had stood and back to the screen. If he could just find his way out of this maze…
A sudden vrooming noise roared from behind him and he flinched, spinning around to face it. The blue and black motor sled from earlier appeared at the base of a snow mound. It climbed the hill steadily, pulling to a stop just before him. The rider drew his helmet from his head and shook his dark blond tresses out before turning on Yuuri with a charming grin and deep blue eyes that somehow eased the growing anxiety in his gut. Leo's helmeted head fell forward against the man's back, still out cold. Yuuri frowned, concern creasing his brow. He had hoped he'd at least be conscious by now.
"Hey!" the blond greeted him. "Thanks for your help back there!" He made a sign with his hand, the tips of his fingers all pressed together and facing the sky. Yuuri recognized the symbol immediately, a forbidden one meant to resemble a flame. "Resistance!"
"Oh!" Yuuri straightened up, an awkward grin spreading over his lips. His eyes fell instinctively to the man's wrist, searching for his muzzle. "No problem, um…" He trailed off, eyes widening when he realized the blond wasn't wearing one. "Um…"
"Emil!" He filled in the blank and shook Yuuri's hesitant hand. "Look…" His gaze flitted backward at the unmoving man behind him. "I tried to tie him in, but he won't wake up and he keeps falling sideways. I need someone on the back to steady him or we'll never make it out of here."
Yuuri gulped, eyes still rooted on Emil's wrists. He wanted to help, but every molecule in his body willed him not to get on the sled. His first experience riding one from the Capitol Station with Phichit certainly didn't ease his discomfort, but riding with an unmuzzled firestarter was the nail in the coffin. Helping them escape from Seung-gil's wrath was one thing, but this… "Your…" he paused, looking away, almost embarrassed to ask. "Your muzzle…?"
Emil simply blinked at him, confused. "I'm non-E. I don't need one?"
Relief instantly swept through Yuuri's chest, loosening his stubborn resolve. A non-elemental. Before he could consider it again, there was noise in the brush behind him. He and Emil turned toward it, finding nothing. Yuuri remembered the dark figure and his chest constricted again. Hopping on the motor sled wasn't ideal, but being left alone in the silent, vacant forest unnerved him just as much.
"Shit," Emil cursed. "That might be them." He turned back to face Yuuri. "Will you help me or not?"
Yuuri stared at him and then at Leo, conflicting answers battling on his tongue.
"Over here!" A familiar voice called. The soldiers. Emil cursed again.
"Okay," Yuuri said, climbing on the back of the sled. He immediately fastened himself in behind Leo and when Emil advised him to hold on tight, he complied, linking his arms around both their waists. With that, they were off and Yuuri could already feel his stomach flipping as they soared through the wood, darting around trees, just missing a few.
"Sorry I don't have a helmet for you!"
"Heh," Yuuri attempted a weak laugh, his stomach plunging.
"So…" Emil started as he narrowly avoided melding with an Evergreen trunk. "Are you an elemental?"
"Yeah…" Yuuri shouted over the motor, purposefully failing to specify which kind.
Emil chuckled. "Well, you're not wearing your muzzle."
Yuuri didn't respond to this, but his arms noticeably tensed around their waists as Leo's weight fell on his right side.
"Ah, it's alright," Emil laughed, raising his hand, contorting it into the flame symbol again. The sled swiveled recklessly. "Fight the power!"
Yuuri joined in his laughter, but it was high-pitched and closer to the beginnings of a sob than mirth. He decided to change the subject. "Are we taking him to a doctor?"
"A doctor? Emil scoffed. "Why? So they can pretend to save him and leave him on a stretcher, worse than before? Or dead?" He shook his head. "You can't trust them to save fire folk. What are you, new?"
Yuuri simply faced downward as they made their way out of the maze of trees and into a clearing. He hadn't considered that. But it couldn't be right, could it? He tried to remember a fire elemental with an injury in his past and realized he didn't really know any personally. Not until recently.
"Okay, here's the jump."
Yuuri's stomach folded into one big knot. "The jump?"
"The only area with a hill tall and slanted enough to get over the gate," Emil explained. "It's how we got in."
"Oh," Yuuri squeaked, chest thudding so harshly he feared he might have a heart attack. "I probably shouldn't leave the palace…"
Emil paid no mind to him while revving up, a daredevil's smirk on his features, and Yuuri held fast for dear life. They started off at an unbelievable speed, up the snowy incline, and Yuuri didn't stop screaming from the moment the undercarriage separated from the ground, til they landed on the mountains outside of the gates with a hard jolt.
"Ah man!" Emil cried, exhilarated as they traveled up, up, up through glistening mounds of snow, the city growing smaller below them. "I never get tired of that!" He turned to glance over his shoulder. "How are you guys doing?"
Leo swayed lifelessly in Yuuri's arms and Yuuri blanched, pale as the snow.
Emil chuckled. "You're pretty nervous for a fireborn, huh?" he joked. "It's alright. That was the probably the worst of it."
Probably?
They traveled so high into the mountains and so quickly that Yuuri decided it was a bit too dizzying to watch the ridges and trees fly by in a blur, the pathways and people becoming miniature beneath him. He focused instead on Leo's immobile form before him, red tresses whipping haphazardly in the wind, features oddly serene.
"Do you think he'll be okay?" Yuuri asked.
"Hm?" Emil frowned. "Oh yeah! You guys are made stronger than that! A chill level that intense would have killed an average person." He glanced back at Yuuri with teasing eyes. "Good thing they didn't catch me, eh?"
"This um…" Yuuri started, attempting to phrase his words as less of a question and more a jaded comment. He had to feign some expertise. "This happens all the time…"
"All the time," Emil sighed. "And it's getting worse everyday. Especially after Giacometti's stupid initiative."
Yuuri's attention perked.
"I know the guy means well, but working with the capitol just wasn't the way to do it." He shrugged. "And they say he's practically in bed with the Primaja. It's embarrassing."
Yuuri grimaced, an ugly feeling settling over him, clawing at his insides. "Huh."
"They'll make empty promises, you know? But they'll never give fire folk the respect they deserve." Emil's eyes narrowed. "We have to take it."
Yuuri gripped Leo tighter, his anxiety flaring. Take it how?
"It's crazy what the council thinks they can get away with. Sneaking poisons that debilitate fire folk into the food and water supply. Muzzles that can drain an entire fire population's magic at once. Factories and heat plants where they harness their power to generate electricity…"
Yuuri gasped, his face going pale and numb from more than just cold. "Wh— where did you hear this?"
"Gossip mostly," Emil admitted.
Yuuri gave an internal sigh of relief.
"But the factory thing is definitely true," Emil said. "My buddy Guang Hong worked in one."
Yuuri's chest seized. Guang Hong. He remembered the boy sobbing and begging into the marble while Seung-gil dragged him about like a rag doll. The odd, hefty blue jump suit. Flame retardant, he realized.
"They used the employment initiative," Emil went on in a thin voice. "Tricked him into thinking it was an actual job. Nearly killed him."
Yuuri felt his mouth going dry, the papillae of his tongue scratchy against his chapped lips when he licked them. Surely the council wouldn't head something like this, wouldn't let it stand. Not with Celestino at the board. Did Chris even realize his initiative was being used in this manner?
"He wouldn't have been the first," Emil continued. "They kill fire folk all the time once they're done using their magic and just brush it under the rug. Chalk it up to brawls with other fire folk."
"The council…" Yuuri nearly choked. "They can't know about something like that. They would put a stop to it."
Emil turned to glance at him over his shoulder again and the look rooted Yuuri in place. It was the first time seeing it on the jovial man's face, brows creased, lips snarling downward. Suspicious.
"Are you fucking kidding?" Emil asked. "You think the council gives a damn about a firestarter?"
Yuuri's breathing halted, tongue tied. "Eh… um…"
"They'll sacrifice one of them in a heartbeat for their own. I think they'd murder all of them at once if they thought they could get away with it.
Yuuri remembered Michele's and Seung-gil's words and bit his lip.
"And they keep blaming the fire folk for the Fire God's power increasing." He chuckled wryly. "I'm sure their fucking factories have something to do with it." He shrugged. "But the uppercrust of the capitol can't live without their warmth and electricity, can they?"
"That's…" Yuuri trailed off, his hands trembling. "Terrible…"
Emil nodded. "I know. That's why I came up here. My family's been fighting this type of thing for decades," he explained, veering the sled into a sudden turn and dipping slightly on a steady decline onto a narrow pathway carved into the side of the mountain. "But we won't have to much longer. Now that the Fire God has called J.J."
Yuuri swallowed hard. "J.J?"
Emil nodded. "Yup. With him, we can free the Fire God and end this damned snowstorm forever."
Yuuri recalled the likeness of the land before the Fire God's imprisonment in museums and history books. Flame and lava. Blackened earth. Who would want to return to that?
"You want the world to burn?" he croaked, thinking of Hasetsu where many fields of white plain had already been scorched and inflamed.
Emil raised an eyebrow. "You want to keep it frozen?"
Yuuri fell into silence for a while, stunned. How many fire folk and their supporters felt this way? Was Chris's initiative really just a utopian fantasy? Nothing answered his thoughts but the roaring motor, sometimes close by and others faraway. Yuuri's eyes widened. It sounded like two. Two motors.
He leaned forward into Emil. "Do you hear someone following us?"
Emil frowned. "Huh? No way. I'm the only one who knows about this short cut." He waved him off. "If they are, we're about to lose them anyway. Here's where we drop."
Yuuri didn't ask. He knew better by now. He simply squeezed and buried his face into the wooly fabric at the back of Leo's jacket as the ground gave out beneath them. His own bird-like screeching and Emil's excited cries blended together in a cacophony that reverberated from the walls of the dark tunnel as they plunged forward. They traveled deeper and deeper at lightening speeds until they reached level ground somewhere deep within the earth, the air of the tunnels damp and dank. Emil howled with adrenaline fueled laughter and oddly enough, Yuuri found himself laughing as well— albeit nervously. This looked to be an abandoned area, embedded in the ground, a network of dark corridors with rounded stone ceilings. The motor's volume steadily decreased and Yuuri realized that they were sliding to a stop in a sconce lit area. He stared ahead into the endless black abyss, nothing easing the silence but the sound of water trickling in the distance. The smell of damp earth filled his nostrils. Where were they? And how was he going to get back to the palace?! He hadn't thought to ask if Emil would take him back that evening. Certainly, if the capitol misplaced a Primaja in line, there would be a calamity by nightfall.
He turned to Emil with apprehensive eyes. "Wh— Where are we?"
Before the blond could answer, someone came racing from an adjacent corridor, flashlight in hand.
"Leo!" they cried and Yuuri turned to see a familiar face bounding toward them, fists pumping in the air, brown eyes frantic. "Is he okay?!"
Guang Hong. Yuuri immediately stepped back as the boy neared the sled, yanking his hat down over his eyes and pulling his blue parka collar in tight around his chin.
"I think so," Emil sighed. "We almost got into the palace this time before they caught us. It was Seung-gil and his men again."
Guang Hong's shoulders trembled as he pulled Leo from the sled. Leo slumped lifelessly downward and the smaller boy tackled him around the chest, dragging him backwards.
"I hate him," he murmured into a tuft of Leo's dark red hair, delicate features thin and tense. His eyes suddenly flickered upward at Yuuri. They narrowed. "Who is that?"
"Oh, he's cool! He helped us escape!" Emil announced, patting Yuuri on the back. "Couldn't have done it without um…" He raised an eyebrow before laughing awkwardly. "Ah man! I never even got your name."
Yuuri's stomach dropped. "Er…"
"What are you doing?!" A frustrated voice called and a young woman with familiar eyes stepped into the tunnel from where Guang Hong had come, long dark hair flowing down her back. "Get him in here!"
"Yes ma'am!" Emil saluted with a grin. They all surrounded Leo from either side, Yuuri included, and lifted him up, edging slowly toward a smaller corridor that branched off from the larger one. The very end of the short tunnel shined with warm light. Flame from the four scones that covered the stone walls licked upward and created shadows on the group of mattresses and sheets. Full knapsacks sat beside the makeshift beds, packed with clothing, packaged food and other supplies. A camp.
They eased Leo down onto a mattress closest to the wall. The woman immediately pulled a band of tools from the utility pouch around the waist of her pants and began working over him, her brow set.
"He probably can't heal with this thing on."
Yuuri realized what she was working so hard at removing and his nerves flared, the expression on his features blatantly contrasting with the rest of the group when she finally succeeded.
"Yes!" Guang Hong cheered, fists pumping.
"How did you get so good at that?" Emil gave her a playful bump on the shoulder.
"Years of practice." She shrugged, slapping her palms together repeatedly.
Yuuri remained silent and hoped that no one would notice the troubled look in his eyes. All fireborn were fitted with muzzles as children and only allowed removal under special and rare circumstances. Removing a muzzle was supposed to be next to impossible- and punishable by exile or death. It required a very specific set of tools only kept by law enforcers and government officials of a certain status. Common folk certainly shouldn't have the ability— especially not a rebel faction. A low groan jarred him front his thoughts and he registered that it had come from the mattress. His chest fluttered with relief as Leo began to come to.
"Ugh." The man blinked tired brown eyes. "Where am I?"
"Leo!" Guang Hong cried, throwing his arms around his neck. Leo winced, obviously still bruised from the altercation earlier, before giving a feeble laugh.
"Hey." He patted the trembling boy's head. "I'm okay." He blinked up confused at the other three. "I think?"
"General Li's men attacked you," Emil explained, walking around the mattress to sit down beside him. He gave Leo's shoulder a soft squeeze. "We barely got away."
Guang Hong whimpered into his chest and Leo's eyes widened. "What?" He examined his person, fingers traveling up his arms, massaging at his neck as though it were sore. "I was wearing a muzzle!"
"Has that ever stopped them before?" the woman asked, letting the black muzzle tumble to the stone, scowling at it as though it were an insect. She turned accusing eyes on them. "I told you not to go."
Emil frowned. "We still need to figure out how to break the shrine's barrier." He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, fingers clasped. Yuuri tensed, settling into a corner of the space, only a thin line of his face showing between his hat and the collar of his coat.
"Something's gotta be in the sacred texts or the council's files—"
"Haven't you heard?!" she snapped, cutting him off. "J.J has a secret in at the palace! If we've already got someone on the inside, there's no need to endanger yourselves!" She gestured to the youngest of the group. "Remember what they did to Guang Hong?! He still has the scar!"
Guang Hong's eyes lowered to his side, trailing over the lining of his t-shirt sleeve. He ran his fingers over the skin there— splotchy, red and raised. The mark didn't end there, Yuuri realized. The same ugly mar protruded just over his collar, twisting and contorting the skin. An ice burn. His jaw set, the memory of Guang Hong scrambling desperately over the ballroom floors in a futile attempt to escape resurfacing. The burn hadn't been there then. Fire was one thing, but ice didn't burn that fast or that easily. How badly had Seung-gil and the capitol guard tortured him to leave this kind of mark? His stomach leadened and lurched, the feeling climbing up his throat. He stepped forward without realizing it.
"They did that to you?" he asked, his voice shaky. "The capitol?"
He was met with odd glances, confusion muddling their brows. The air in his lungs grew thin as confusion steadily gave way to suspicion under the dim firelight. He flinched then, remembering the reason he'd been so quiet in the first place. He wasn't supposed to be here. If they found him out…
"Who are you?" the woman started toward him, arms crossed.
"Ah…" He gave a high-pitched laugh. "I— I was just passing through and they looked like they needed my help!" he explained, a slight tremor in his voice. He zipped around to Emil. "I should probably be getting back into town now!"
"Ah, sure." Emil nodded, the confused frown transforming into his usual smile. "Be cool, Sara. He's fireborn like you guys and all about the Resistance! He doesn't mean any harm!"
"Sara?" Yuuri blinked, suddenly realizing why her eyes looked so familiar. Deep violet like those he'd grown so accustomed to in the past month. Though not quite as intense… "Sara Crispino?"
Sara moved in closer, eyes narrowed, nose wrinkled as though she smelled something funny. "Yeah?"
"Um…" He backed away, fist clutching his collar over his chin. "I thought you had been kidnapped! Y— Your brother said—"
"He knows Mickey!" Emil squealed. "We grew up together!"
Sara groaned, rolling her eyes. "Mickey's an idiot! He's been saying that ever since I left home because he can't face the truth!" She clenched her fists. "I'm here because I want to be! Our parents made me hide who I was my whole life. I'm not going to keep playing non-E just because he can't deal with a fireborn for a sister!"
Yuuri shrank into the corner, eyes wide with fright as they trailed her hands for any sign of elemental activity.
She surveyed him with skeptical eyes. "How did a fire dancer have an entire conversation about me with my firephobic brother and live to tell the tale anyway?" She stepped forward, narrowing the space between them until Yuuri trembled violently under his coat. "And for that matter, why did the general let you go?"
Yuuri just swallowed hard under her shrewd scrutiny as she closed the space between them and snatched the 'Eastlands Sea Lions' cap from over his eyes. His hair flew up in disarray and he immediately moved to cover his face. Her eyes went wide with shock.
"Crap!" she cried, dropping the cap. "It's Katsuki!" She pointed him square in the face. "Katsuki Yuuri from the capitol!"
"The new Primaja?!" Leo stood from the mattress to get a better look and Guang Hong gasped from beside him.
"No way!" Emil's surprise was perhaps the most shocked of them all. "I totally thought he was one of you guys!"
"He's wearing a Sea Lions cap!" Sara scowled at him.
"I thought that was a fire team!"
"Sea lions?!" she cried. "Besides he's a Primaja in line! Have you even been keeping up with the news, Emil?!"
"Not really," Emil scratched the back of his neck, shoulders hunching forward, a sheepish grin on his lips.
"Typical Non-E Southlander activist," she grumbled under her breath, pointed eyes glaring into Yuuri. "What the hell are we going to do with him now?"
They all started away from the mattress, advancing on Yuuri, who burrowed further into the corner. A cold sweat broke out all over his skin, his breath tight in his throat. He wanted to do something. Say something. To call for the Goddess's help. But he couldn't even think. He only stared in horror, terrified of what they might say next. Of what they might do.
"I mean," Leo started, his tone grim. "We could get rid of him."
"'Get rid' of him?!" Sara turned disbelieving eyes on him. "We can't kill a Primaja! Are you crazy?! The capitol would turn us into ice picks by nightfall!"
"Maybe if we just keep him here." Guang Hong frowned, wringing anxiously at his own fingers. "He tried to help when the general was taking me away. More than Giacometti did anyway…" he muttered bitterly.
"Oh please." Sara rolled her eyes. "He's still an iceborn." She turned to glower at him. "I saw a clip of your Quarter Ball debut. How did it feel ripping off our dances for the capitol's amusement while they hunt us down like dogs?"
Yuuri swallowed hard. "I'm sorry," he pleaded and then realized that he actually meant it, guilt willing his gaze down. "Please…"
"We can interrogate him later," Leo offered. "Let's trap him in a ring for now."
A ring. A ring of fire. Yuuri's heart went wild, his skin burning all over at just the thought. Leo reached out, one hand extended and he began hyperventilating, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. "No!"
Leo blinked and then frowned, bringing his hand back into him, staring down at it. Then, before he could speak, a monstrous eruption exploded from somewhere in the distance, rocking the tunnels all around them. They all turned to the tunnel exit.
"What the hell was that?" Sara and Emil asked together.
Yuuri blinked his breathing still heavy. While he had become accustomed to being the cause of strange happenings in the past month, this most certainly hadn't come from him. He'd been too mortified, too useless to will his own feet to move let alone summon that sort of power. He trembled, now with self- loathing rather than fear.
"Look!" Emil pointed upward and they followed his gaze to see a haze of bright red coloring the stone of the domed tunnel ceilings, traveling rapidly down the expanse toward them.
Yuuri's eyes widened, features twisted in horror. Fire! Without thinking, he jetted into the main tunnel and swerved in opposite direction of the red shadow, whatever had him rooted him in place evaporated.
"CATCH HIM!" Sara cried and Yuuri pounded the stone faster, crimson color drowning him from every side. He sped past the motor sled, past the sconce light and into darkness. The tunnel they had entered from was far too steep. He would have to find another way. Seeing nothing but darkness up ahead, the red color gaining and promising the coming of fire, he turned into a random tunnel to his right and scrambled down as far as it would take him.
"He turned there!" he heard Guang Hong's voice echoing behind him and cursed silently to himself. He began to change his stride, adjusting his weight so that his footfalls didn't land as audibly as before. Thank the Goddess for his training as a dancer. He moved silently into the darkness, deeper and deeper until the reddened entrance of the tunnel was a mere dot. Breathing heavy, he threw a glance over his shoulder just in time to catch the shadows of the rebel band hovering at the entrance. His breath caught. And then something strange happened.
Actual flame stretched over the entrance of the tunnel he'd entered, shielding it like a door, protecting him. Yuuri could barely catch their cries of protest echoing from the other end.
He blinked for a second in disbelief before spinning on his heel and making his way further down before the flame decided to turn inward on him. Faraway as it was, the flame dimly illuminated the end of the tunnel where an iron ladder perched to the side. He climbed as quickly as his burning legs could carry him ascending higher and higher until he reached the plated opening. He pushed, terrified at the possibility of it being locked. When it gave, natural light peering through, he gave an internal cheer of "Yes!" and nearly hurtled himself through the opening. He scrambled out onto the messy ground and he didn't think he'd ever been happier to see salt and snow. He promptly jammed the plate back into place as tightly as he could, half expecting the metal to turn white hot or for flame to explode from the ground in a fountain. When it didn't, he fell onto his back beside it, breathing heavy, chest pounding visibly under his parka.
What had just happened? It was almost as though the mysterious flame had a life of its own, but he knew better. Someone was at the other end of that explosion, pulling the strings. Someone had directed the flame. Helped him. A firestarter. But who?
The rush in his ears began to die away and he could make out voices in the distance. He lifted his head and glanced around. He'd escaped beneath a bridge in a small park, children scrambling over the snow, throwing balls of frost and flapping their arms to make imprints of angels. He had no idea where he was, but if the darkening evening sky was any indication, Mickey was in a hot water with the capitol right now.
With a great sigh, he moved to pull his phone from the side pocket of his parka. He'd better rescue him. And quickly. If he was lucky, he could request an audience with Celestino that night.
You think the council gives a damn about a firestarter?
The questions had been building up from day one, echoing in his mind until he couldn't stand them anymore. And if anyone could provide answers, it was an elder.