Alone, Lon'qu wanders.
He no longer has anything to anchor him to Chon'sin, and so he leaves the only place he has ever known in search of something, though he knows not what that something may be. Sometimes, he runs, pursued by the relentless nightmares that haunt his nights. Sometimes, he walks, meandering in large meaningless circles. The stars guide him as he drifts further and further away from civilization, and he sleeps beneath their watchful gaze in open fields, his sword safely in its scabbard.
For Lon'qu no longer cares whether he lives or dies.
Days go by, dragging on endlessly, passing in a blur. Somehow, Lon'qu always finds food to eat. A few roots here, a small bird there, some berries haphazardly picked from low-hanging braches. Considering his extremely limited knowledge of wildlife, it's a wonder that he hasn't poisoned himself yet.
And so it's no surprise that one muggy afternoon, when the shadows stretched long and the birds had stopped singing, Lon'qu finds himself surrounded into a pack of bandits. They think that he is easy pickings, a runaway brat who has run low on food – someone that can be held hostage for large ransoms.
Lon'qu grins to himself mirthlessly. Little do they know that there is nobody left in the world that would pay his ransom. And then his eyes widen and his breath grows ragged as he spots the green insignia that adorns their sleeves. These are the same…he realizes. The same.
His mind goes blank for a few minutes, and when he is himself again, Lon'qu sees that he has painted the forest red.
He wanders onwards, pausing momentarily to wash his sword in a stream, tainting the clear crystal water with faint traces of crimson. A nightingale sings merrily in a tree, and he realizes that night has fallen once more. The stars twinkle down mercilessly at him, and not for the first time, he wishes that he could shoot down their mocking countenances with arrows.
When Flavia first sees the boy, she almost mistakes him for an animal. Eyes savage, hair a tangled mess, and blood running freely from a scratch in the side – it was an easy mistake to make.
He is dangerous, Flavia realizes. Dangerous – and unpredictable. It would be best for her hunting party to avoid this wild card, to turn back towards Wu'fen, to safer grounds. But Flavia is true-blooded Feroxi, and she knows that leaving the boy alone would be leaving him to die. From the look of it, he won't last for more than three days.
So she walks towards the boy, hands outstretched and empty in a gesture of peace. His eyes turn on her, wild and unfocused.
"Who are you?" he demands, voice ragged and torn.
"Ambassadors from Regna Ferox," she replies clearly. "Hunting for pleasure while a friend deals with politics in the capitol. And who are you?"
His gaze flickers to his feet. "I…" he seemed awfully unsure of himself, Flavia thinks, "…nobody. I am nobody." He looks up again, but this time his eyes blaze with an unnatural passion. "You say you are from Regna Ferox. Please, could you teach me?"
Flavia is taken aback by his sudden proposition. "Teach you what?" she asks brusquely.
"Teach me how to be stronger," he answers. "Teach me how to never lose."
Flavia has never considered taking on an apprentice. She prefers to live freely, doing whatever she wishes whenever she wishes, and even her relationship with Basilio reflects that. But the boy's desperate plea stirs an instinctive maternal response, and she privately thinks to herself that he understands Feroxi politics quite well. So she takes him under her wing, bringing him back to the snowcapped mountains of Regna Ferox.
He speaks little, and she asks few questions.
In time, she learns his name. But he never talks of his past, and Flavia knows not to ask.
And so Lon'qu grows up in Regna Ferox, away from the land of his ancestors, away from his memories of pain and sorrow. He grows strong and skilled, and soon he becomes one of the finest myrmidons in the land. When he hears of Walhart's conquest of Chon'sin from Khan Flavia, he remains stoic as ever. Only when nobody is watching, behind closed doors, does he mourn for his homeland.
But Lon'qu does not cry.
He has not shed a single tear since the day of Ke'ri's death.
A/N: Grad school apps...are killing me x-x