whiteshade of blackness 'gaku

Children of Winds (Virion's story)

3. The scenery a pureblood saw from the high-view

Disclaimer: G-boys not saru', including Zechs….but there's actually no G-boys in this part, so perhaps saru should just say 'Zechs is not mine'……..though no one calling him Zechs in this part…….-sweatdrop-

Warning: angst, slight abuse, no H scene (even if u want it)….n"n

Recovering from the incident was more about the heart than of body; his Bland became very possessive over him that at some point it made him sorted to locking the small beast outside on the landing instead of having him literally pestering his leg like a good leech. The wounds left shallow scars on his back, perhaps since he was not as young as he was when he received the Callous-tail attack that his self-healing ability was reduced by his maturity.

His step-cousin didn't show up for a very long time after that day, it's not like he missed his contempt, though; but somehow the look of him with wet defeated eyes after he gave him the lashings burnt in his mind; either it was pity or just because of loneliness towards his step-cousin. True, Halberd was the only person beside the Counselor who visited him, having his world filled with only the statuesque sleeping-Dragon in the underground chamber, and the inhumane Obelisks along the glaze-stones, and his hyperactive possessive beast, and the solemn Counselor bringing him food and sometimes books; he thought he missed some more human touch.

Sometimes he wondered whether his uncle had forgotten that he ever existed at all since he never even once visited or made malicious efforts against him; it's not like he didn't grateful for that, but it was just…because his uncle Marquisse could try it if he wanted to, right..? It's not like there was someone that could stop him for even trying, right? Not when the whole country was in his hands to do as he pleases, right…?

The gentle breeze played with his long bangs, the great hawk flew circling the sky far above him for the past hour as if keeping him company; something nudged his mind as he thought about his uncle. Yes, there was something that he'd said when he condemned him in that trial, what was that..?

…I'll erase your name from the Kingdom's Lineage…!! -or something like that. He smiled at the floating memory; he wasn't in his sharpest mind that day, so the memory was felt like he was seeing through a peek-hole watching an aquarium. Ah, right; his uncle might had really done that, erasing his name…that something-of-a-long-name he could barely remember now; besides he always liked simple names, his beast's name for example.

His mild smile slowly gone from his face as his mind brought another bubble of thought to the surface, the unsolicited thought about the OWLs popped out with his surging concern about the well being of his people. Having to live under the fearsome ruler was already hellish-hard, the war might wipe his people almost entirely; if not by the massacre, the war's aftereffects might do the rest; it's not like the country could survive the famine caused by the fearsome ruler itself, anyway, along with the rules and taxes and consequences he'd made. He knew, that for the span of almost 10 years his uncle had ruled that his people were almost reduced to halve from the number when his father last ruled. The rebels were divided into groups, minding their vicious ruler and the unseen enemies where there was never any survivor to tell about them after having an encounter; they never made a significance in their struggles, only adding the number of the people who lost their lives in the country's history, not even registered by names.

A sudden heat struck his dry eyes; the coolness of the cloudy weather eased them a little. The sight of the city from the Tower was so distant and trifling; sometimes he could see smokes climbing up to the layers of clouds from the places down, looking like dead people's dissipating hands trying to reach the illusory freedom called the sky, of which almost always hidden by the layers of clouds above that country; but he couldn't see his people's suffering from such a high place where he was kept and assumedly forgotten. Somehow the thriving city full with colors he remembered had turned to a dusty gray humble-stairs of buildings, staring with their quivering round eyes of windows at night; so poor that those quivering lights only stared his Tower to the time their inhabitants took their sleep; then the gray city turned pitch dark like a dead caldera. It felt so cold at night when he realized that more of those quivering lights gone each night. Somewhere he thought he could hear the whispers cursing him for his incapability as the once foretold King. He could hear the dark side of his Pride calling him 'liar' everyday, even though he never pondered that accusation…

The thin paper of the book pages on his laps made a view silent rustling sounds as they turned by the wind, it brought his attention back to the book; he looked down to his crossed legs and remembered what he was reading before his mind strayed, a person's shadow casted on the yellowy pages made him aware of someone standing at his side.

"…Bland, I told you I want to read alone for awhile…!" he said softly to the fluttering black velvet on the floor behind his view.

Bland didn't answer as if he was losing his voice for some time.

"….Master…" when he did answer it was almost heard like he was pleading.

The difference in the breeze made him aware of other people that were on the landing with them, he looked behind from his shoulder finding some lining Counselors stood like mute statues blocking the view of his humble room. It was as if the Fate answered his thought instantly, his mind jested with not so much a pleased feeling; he made a note not to tempt the sharks with his bloody finger next time…

A thousand bubbles of thoughts popped out in his mind in the same time; he couldn't decide which to think first so he stared them evenly from his lower view as he was sitting on the landing's ledge.

Maybe his uncle finally decided that his denial of his existence was futile and that he should eliminate him sooner than later.

The Counselors' robes were different from the ones lining the corridors in his memory; the winds fluttered their loose hoods' backs and he could see a glimpse of the embroidered patterns on the white cloths.

Ah, yes…the ceremonial-Counselors..! His mind finally spoke up. Oh, this year he turned twenty, another thought managed to fight its dominance to the surface, so his uncle decided to make him one of them in the end...that's why he didn't make any move to erase him from the land of the living, he might thought that keeping him alive but at the impossible distance to the throne was better than killing him, since he might still use him for something if the need come later.

Impossible distance…that's right; once he accepted the Altar to be a Counselor-of-what-highest-title they stored for him as the guardian of the sacred Tower he couldn't take his right to the throne anymore. So his uncle really wanted to erase him from his lineage, didn't he?

"….you really want me to take the Altar?" he asked softly to the lining Counselors; their tall pointy hoods made them looked taller than their original heights. The fluttering ornaments made soft tinkling sounds, adding the glory of their garments. It's not like he didn't find them fascinating in their elegant attires, he remembered he used to think that being one of them would look great but he was more proud with his Blood, more than anything….

"Take it..!" a voice answered, the lining Counselors cleared a way in the middle of the line; there stood the always cloudy looking Halberd in his usual black leather outfit, "…It's not a request, Cousin..!" he looked fully matured in the past 4 years he hadn't seen him.

His mind pointed that his step-cousin left the word 'step' before addressing him as a cousin, "So, I take it you already have a new name for me, Halberd..?" he asked evenly staring back at the book on his laps, as if he couldn't care less about them.

"It's the Altar or the--.."

"Grave..?" he cut in, already knowing the options; in the back of his mind he registered his Bland whimpered silently. "I'd rather not to have both of the options, step-cousin..!" he added conversationally.

"It's not optional where you could decide not to choose, Milliard..!" He could hear his step-cousin's teeth gritted.

Ah, for how many years had it been since he last heard someone called his name..? His mind made another conversation in his head. Almost 10 years, wasn't it?

"Make me, then…" Now he's challenging the sharks to actually bite more than just his bloody finger, his mind chuckled. "……I'll do as you bid if you could get pass my Blood..!"

The sudden sounds of things broken in his room answered him. He knew, when their eyes met just now, that after not seeing him for the past 4 years, his step-cousin was trying to deny that light burning in his grey eyes that once was almost died by his own tears after he'd finished giving him the lashings; and it exploded back to live in only that short meeting of eyes. His step-cousin hated him for that. He couldn't be sure what the light was, but it wasn't something spiteful. He never hated his step-cousin, anyway…

Halberd barged out to his side; he could feel his Bland's body bracing itself to launch at him, or maybe not to. "You think you could get away with yourself like this..?!!" he barked.

The problem was: he didn't think…!

"It wouldn't make any difference whether I take the Altar or the jail, right..? It's more useful than me choosing the grave, right, Halberd?"

A pair of strong hands suddenly grabbed his head and tilted it up, "It's not always about you..!!" his step-cousin hissed to his face from behind. There was that burning light in his eyes again, it seemed like Halberd was aware of him realizing it for he instantly averted his eyes. After his burst of emotion died down, he released his head gently, much to his surprise; probably his step-cousin already matured in heart as well..?

"…what good would a king's bloodline without a kingdom?" Halberd reasoned silently.

He chuckled silently, "As pitiful as it sounded, it's the only thing I have left as 'me', Halberd..!"

"You can't cling to such a pride anymore, Milliard…--!"

He looked behind his shoulder, noticing the defeated tone his step-cousin tried to hide; if he didn't know better he'd say that he was pleading him.

"…..a kingdom without people would only be a ghost-kingdom..!"

"Aah…so you actually understand the concept..!" it wasn't sarcasm, he was genuinely amused.

"This country needs the Dragon, Milliard!" his step-cousin didn't budge.

"Hoo, so now your father wants the Dragon…?" he looked down to the book again, didn't realize when the pages had turned by the winds.

"Too bad but I can't wake the Dragon as I please, Halberd; if I could from long ago I wouldn't be here now…!" he let his step-cousin interpret it as he pleased. Halberd silenced for some time but he could feel his eyes burned at him, it was as if he was missing him; perhaps he really was …..missing his only toy, his mind whispered.

"Then, ….the Obelisks..!" There was a tinge of hesitation in his tone.

"The Obelisks are the Ancestors', they're not mine to use freely. They're the heritage for the next pure-blooded king, not the pure-blooded prince, Halberd, if you could understand the difference…?" this time he intended a little sarcasm, he was getting annoyed with this ridiculous conversation. Being alone for so many years meant that he didn't have a lot of patience once it's disturbed; he made a mind-note to work that out by himself.

"Then what good are you being kept alive..?!" his retort was instant and said in a growl, it made his Bland reflexively made a hidden hiss at him.

He smirked to himself. His step-cousin turned his back in a snap he could hear the swishing sound in the wind.

"The war is just an excuse. They already raised the tax again, didn't they? They don't need war-fee if they ask me to use the Obelisks eventually..!"

Halberd stopped in his walk to the room, the ceremonial-Counselors didn't move the slightest, only their ornaments fluttered in the wind made their own characteristic sounds marking their presence there.

"….it used to be a nice view from up here…!" he meant the city view down the Tower; it's his reminder of his purpose the whole time of his exile.

A cynical snicker, "So you still like the higher view..!" with that his step-cousin left the Tower, leaving the ceremonial-Counselors still lining the view of his room as if blocking the sunlight from the landing wall's windows. They'd be there for at least three days, he knew, incase he'd change his mind.

---------------

"…Mu--u…!" Bland climbed the bed very slowly, it seemed he was minding the ceremonial-Counselors' companies still lining the landing's wall.

The night sky was exceptionally clear that night, some great hawks and night birds apparently agreed to just use that time to quest the sky. And his Bland seemed fond of that idea, too; he thought as he saw the hungry glints in his shining blood-red orbs. He pulled his left hand out of the cover of the blanket, it was cold as well so he pulled the sleeve using his teeth, and let it laid on the pillow next to his head. Bland peeked from behind his loose hood at the lining ceremonial-Counselors' backs that were could be seen from the windows, it looked like as if they're only statues or stylist scarecrows for not moving the slightest bit for the past three days, sometime he wondered why those humans titled as counselors could do such a thing, like lining the corridors and such.

It was the third night, so it's his feeding time; no, actually he'd delayed it for a day so his hunger couldn't take the wait anymore; or else he wouldn't show his beastly nature in the presence of some strangers, feeding made him feel vulnerable, it was the moment when he needed his Master the most and that he showed it physically.

He noticed the small shivers his nurturer's made when his hand was exposed to the chill air, so he took off the velvet robe and spread it on the blanket and wormed under the cloths to warm his nurturer's body with his body heat. His nurturer closed his eyes again, his breath slowed to a sleeping rhythm in no time. He stared at his face for sometime, after licking his wrist as a habit he bit the white wrist and took his usual share, his eyes kept staring his Master's relaxed sleeping face; he'd become used to the process that he didn't waken by the pain of the bite.

The thoughts of his nurturer lulled him to sleep, and in his subconscious he called forth the fond memories of his nurturer's to guard his dream and chase away the lurking nightmares ready to devour his human-mind. It's one thing only he could do to repay his nurturer for everything he'd given him.

A derisive snort woke him from his light sleep, he was always aware of his nurturer's surrounding since the day Halberd gave him he lashings, it was as if his sense of possessiveness had gotten awaken by the incident. As expected, there stood his nurturer's step-cousin staring him with his condescending eyes, they were burning with an unholy fire for a moment that he couldn't help it and attempted a mind-touch to his thought. For some reason he was afraid of what he'd read or see from the human's thought, so he cautiously only touched the surface of what he thought at the time, and the feeling of exposal was like a slap to his mind.

Bland gasped and pulled the blanket that at some point in their sleep had pooled between their bodies and thus exposed one of his bare legs. He was already with the body of about a 12-year old boy now; the shirt his nurturer gave him when he was still 14 almost fitted his body, while for the undergarment he only wore a loin-cloth with a long frontal flap that he made himself along with the hand-dye painting on it.

Halberd lifted the one chair to face the bed without a sound. He sat crossing his hands with his despotic air around him. "So…is that how it is…?" he asked flatly with a flat tone as if actually summed up the situation as he liked. "Well, I must say that he has the eyes to spot pretty things…!"

The compliment made him feel nauseous.

Halberd chuckled to himself, "….yeahh..!" he said agreeing with something his mind thought, leering openly.

It made him wanted to vocal his denial to whatever the human thought about his Master, the anger started to make him dizzy, but he restraint himself; he didn't want to wake his Master from his peaceful sleep. Especially not to this-human's company…!!

Halberd pondered about something as he eyed the beast lying on the single bed staring him back with his naïve defiant eyes. It seemed that the beast knew what he was thinking; but he wasn't really hiding it, though, he chuckled again deeper. The beast apparently decided to show that he was extremely annoyed with his presence for he slowly sat up minding not to wake his nurturer; then, he looked at him like he would eyeing an enemy he's ready to attack.

"I'll tell you what…!" Halberd had an idea and voiced it with a leering smirk, "What if you give me your consent, and your master can walk out of this place…!" he baited.

Consent? ….consent for what..?! The eyes staring the human in front of him spoke of his thought openly; it made Halberd wanted to break them more and more, that innocence and such naivety.

"I'll be your master, and that human over there could have the palace life again..!" Halberd pointed his nurturer with his chin.

He blinked; "….I have Master; why would I look for another human?!" the beast said with genuine confusion; it seemed the reasoning didn't pass his beast-rules and logics.

Halberd's snicker exploded, "Don't you understand my offer, beast..?!"

The beast's blood-red eyes shining with anger told him that he actually understood what he's offering; it just didn't pass his principles.

"Just plead him to wear that attire; no one will contempt him anymore once he has a title back..!" Halberd pointed the ceremonial-Counselor attire specially made for his pure-blooded cousin folded neatly on the table for the last three days; it seemed no one had touched it.

"Master said 'no'..!" Bland gave him a stern look.

"My father would kill him if he won't..! So there's only left you to talk to him; he'd listen to you, right…?"

"Master said 'NO'..!!" Bland bared his sharp teeth to show he meant it.

"Then, his doom would be in your hands….?" Halberd stared the beast with a moderate smile and perceptive eyes; and he still made it sound like a question, his eyes shone in the dark room while what-light of the dawn's that had managed to get pass the lining ceremonial-Counselors silhouetted his figure from his back..

That sudden change of the usually haughty human made Bland started in surprise; it frightened him to some extent, even though he didn't want to admit it.

"You think you alone could protect his life, little beast..?"

Bland gritted his teeth; of course he would, he'd protect his Master with everything he got, right?!

Halberd stood up, knowing what exactly running in the beast's mind; moreover it showed all over his face. He grasped the tiny chin and forced his face facing upward to his face, intimidating the naïve beast with his taller body. "What about his desires..? You don't care about them?"

He leaned forward, making their faces almost touching each other, knowing full well that someone else's closeness influenced the beast so much that he started to tremble slightly. "So…could you take their suffering in your hands, as well…?" and he let the knowledge of the people's suffering flowed trough his hand into the beast's mind.

"……..ugh…" Bland wanted to get away from that almost gentle hand, but he couldn't find his strength to pull his head backwards, nor that he could feel his head as his alone as the knowledge of the sufferings of people out there filled his mind like his second-memories surfaced. His eyes started to get wet, and he tried to call out to his Master, but he could only manage a poor moan.

"See? People are suffering; do you want to know what they think of your master…?" Halberd whispered with his angelic tone. The beast could only gasped weakly closing his defiant eyes, a couple of tears trailed down his cheeks unbidden, he wished he could be strong enough to be his Master's guardian; especially at a time like this, that-human didn't even attack him physically.

"Halberd..! If you have anything related to my beast's misconduct, if there's any, talk to me..!" his Master's even voice heard like a lifeline. The relief made his beast whimpered calling out to him.

"Ah, morning, cousin..!" Halberd said conversationally and let go the beast's chin, sitting back on the chair. "Still a 'no'..?" he asked casually.

"You knew my answer..!" he sat up as if providing his beast his body to lean on.

Halberd chuckled flatly, "Still a prideful boy, aren't you, Milliard? You just don't know how to lower your head, hu..?!"

"Did they teach you to do it?" he asked back evenly.

His step-cousin didn't say anything more; he only smirked widely with eyes burning at him for some time. After that he stood up, snapped his fingers two times calling the ceremonial-Counselors to follow him out, leaving the folded attire on the table intentionally.

"….I'm sorry, Master…!" his Bland whispered after they're gone from that room, "I'm sorry…!!"

He embraced his beast's trembling body to lean on his, "You're allowed to call out for my help, Bland..!" he covered his crying face with his other hand; his beast's delicateness almost made him having second thought about getting out of that room ever again, his nurturing sense built for years made him wanted to protect his beast from his own harsh world; if only he could set him free...

His Master's thought shrouded him like a blanket, it made him feel safe, but he didn't get crushed because of the mental attack on him, it was what directed to his Master that had him defeated, what they thought of him, what that-human thought of him….

"….I'm sorry, Master….!" He repeated with a pleading voice.

He sighed, "Don't brood over it..!" and that's all he could say about that.

---------------

That day was apparently a fated day that would change their humble lives in the Tower, it even occurred without him knowing or realizing it. The Counselor brought him his food as always, at the exact time as he always did everyday; and he waited until his Sire told him that he could leave. It had become their bonding ritual for years, sometimes they would talk about trivial things, while the things they couldn't talk openly was exchanged in actions, simple things such the threads tied in the napery's borders, or the bookmarker ribbon's colors, or the knots of the rope tying the sash at his waist, …that was the code for poisoned food.

He sat in his chair trying to look casual as usual, frowning a little at the knots of the Counselor's rope at his waist, which he usually managed to hide from probing eyes with his loose sleeves as the Counselors usually had their hands put together in such ways at their front; he'd never seen so many knots the Counselor made with his rope, nor the form of the knots itself that it almost made a stylish of flowerbud-like.

The Altar or grave…! His mind reminded the options given to him earlier. Oh, yes…the flowers presented to unborn babies in annual ceremony when his father still ruled, the buds were the epitomes of the babies' lives and symbolized in the stylish knots usually made of the mother's hair.

So, it's a deadly poison this time?

He wetted his forefinger with the soup, rubbed it with his thumb for a while, the poison might be deadly to commoners, but with quite of amount; the soup only had half the dose that would kill a human instantly, in its amount it would only make someone fall ill for sometime, whether the person would survive or die would depend to the person's antibody. He crossed the effect with his immune system, his Blood could fight the harmful substance traced on his fingers almost instantly; years of trying to cleanse his blood to feed his beast had become a perfect training for such a hazard. He suspected that the Counselor had known it too and that's why he'd only given half a dose into the soup, so that his immune system could distinguish the poison and prepare his body to survive it. Still, he knew consuming it would hinder his daily activities to some extent.

He nodded, "You may leave, Counselor..!"

The Counselor stood still for a moment, then bowed slowly and deeply to him, paused when his head was at the lowest position; it was his genuine apology regretting his helplessness to defend his Sire, he walked out the room still keeping his face downward.

He saw the man walked out without anything else; propping his chin with his hand he sighed deeply, he was grateful that his Bland seemed like having other things he'd found more interesting than having the Counselor in his space; it's been a while since the beast watched that man bringing food to him as he rather occupied himself with something else outside. At first he found it odd, since it definitely the opposite of his possessiveness over him, but he thought his Bland might already accepted the Counselor as someone of his Master's circle. So he let it pass his mind.

Silently he began spooning the soup into his mouth, the sharp taste made him cringe; it burned his tongue after sometime. The loaf bread had something else mixed in it, he coughed as the excessiveness of the effort was not even tried to be concealed, it made him wanted to laugh but the dry bread almost made him choked instead. He could only finish half the soup and a little of the bread; he suspected his step-cousin actually intended a mental attack rather than trying to kill him instantly, or making him die slowly of hunger. Well, he guessed his Bland must take a diet since now.

The white snow fell down silently out the windows, he glanced at the grey weather and his eyes clouded a little, what's with the first snow and his misfortune, anyway..?! As if the prelude presaging the bleak frozen winter he'd have right after.

The stairs were spiraling down caged by the walls at the core of the towering structure and its opposite wall. It's a one way up or down that was only a two-people width. The Counselor climbed down the stairs with his usual solemn generic air around him, trying to be indistinctive as best he could. Another figure in black velvet robe blocked his way in the middle of the way down, he knew that someday that judgment would come to his face; he just never thought that the judgment took a very long time to face him. Even so, the blood-red eyes staring him didn't have even a slight of hatred; he hid a smile, satisfied that his Sire had taught the beast to have such a fine personality. After this they will face a fiercer fate, he only wished that both of them will survive just as they were.

The Counselor gave Bland a small nod when he passed him by, his steady steps didn't falter even for a little bit.

He thinned his lips as the sounds of the Counselor's steps sounded getting far away from him.

"….how long are you going to give Master poisoned food..?!"

That flat question made the sounds of the steps stopped, the man stood still for some time. Bland turned to stare at the human from his higher view on the wide-rounding stairs; he looked small with his humble posture in his generic robe.

The beast had figured it out for quite a long time, that once he thought that his nurturer was sick was actually the effect of something he'd eaten; he knew what had made his nurturer sick after he risked a lick at the little drop of the soup left on the floor; his nurturer was always careful with his tableware as he always cleansed them in the sink right after he finished eating, mindful to wipe clean the little spill or drop on the table. It's been three years since then, he kept silent for he didn't want to make his nurturer worry about his feeding.

The Counselor turned to face the beast on the stairs above him, he lifted the hands he put together on his front to his chest level and gave a slow generic bow, then turned again and continued his walk down the stairs. Bland chased him several jumps down but he stopped midway, he'd let the man know that he knew what he's doing and that should be enough for now, he thought to himself. He let out a deep exhale to calm his beastly nature down and went back up to his nurturer's room.

His nurturer wasn't in there; so his first instinct was to search for the basket of food and tableware on the shelf. It wasn't in the room either. He called out his wind to scan the room and didn't find any trace of food his nurturer ate; it made him alerted with his own paranoia. He ran out to the landing and using his wind he blasted to the top landing of the Tower, finding no one, he ran to the steel doors banging on the panels.

"Muu..?!"

No answer, just as he thought; he let his wind loose through the slits between the door panels and the floor, the winds whirled in the tower's staircase and void; Bland knew his nurturer wasn't in there either, he just wanted to make sure. Jumping down, he landed on the lower landing again, exactly on the front of the doors to the underground chamber. He pushed the steel doors, not really surprise finding them didn't budge at all even though he'd used his beastly strength.

He was not allowed to enter…!

"Master..!!" he banged on the doors using both hands, knowing that he couldn't use his wind inside that part of the Tower.

"Masteeerr..!!" he called out louder banging impatiently. There's only one reason why his Master had taken the food basket with him into the underground chamber, he knew, and he didn't want to accept the reality if his move towards the Counselor was too late.

"MASTER, PLEEEASE..!!" he banged the steel doors using his hands and head.

---------------

The dissipated scales swirled and twisted and gathered to where they formed the dragon body again, after the sliced body regained its formation the dragon head roared out the sound of a hurricane, its dark holes of eyes widened as it launched to its target.

He swung the sword up and stood still as the vertically slashed dragon head gave him a gap between the cut, then he made a full round swing at the dragon's neck severing its head from body. The sliced halves of the head fell to either sides of him while the body pulled up taking the distant for another launch; he braced himself with the sword held vertically above his head. The headless dragon dove with everything it had and the sound of the swishing sword heard as it cut the air in front of the diving dragon. The slit in the air ran through the dragon body and sliced it into two.

The pieces of the dragon dissipated again into individual scales flying shapeless like a school of fish in water; before they could form another massive form, he swung his sword repeatedly at the shapeless pieces as if he went berserk. He didn't count himself how many times he'd swung his sword, or how many pieces he'd cut; after some time his vision went blur by his own movements, and as his head felt like swimming he fell on his back after he sliced another piece on his way down. He breathed hard with sweat soaked his whole body, lying on the floor unmoving for a long time.

He heard the faint sound traveled down to him from the doors up there, it's calling him again and again; he tried to slow down his breaths, once his eardrums didn't deafen by his own rapid heartbeat he could hear his Bland's voice calling him in the brink of hysteria. He sighed to himself. The shapeless forms flew circling above his sprawled body with their holes of eyes staring vacantly at him.

((…Sire is not well….!)) the Obelisks in the glaze-stones spoke up in unison.

He let out some deep breaths, feeling his head still swimming in a whirlpool. "…just something I ate..!" he said flatly, closing his eyes. He let the specters inspected him for some time, but before long he fell asleep on the cold floor as it eased his feverish body. A part of his mind pointed to him that his Bland was still screaming for him up at the doors, but his tired mind said that his Bland could survive his own hysteria for the time being; so he cherished the silent companies of the specters and the statuesque Dragon in his own private glaze-stone, and let his Blood cleansed itself while he slept.

---------------

He'd finished all the food from that noon by the evening, since he didn't want his paranoid Bland to get over excited over it; his body had already reacted to fight the poison effects so he thought he didn't have much to complain for that night, except for his tearstained Bland leeching his leg again no matter how hard he tried to make him let go. He compromised thinking that it's kind of a good way to sweat the poison out of his system as well, that sport of dragging his beast attached to his leg everywhere he went; not like he had much places to walk to, anyway…

That night he slept fighting his own body with cold fever, in the midst of his half-awake vertigo he could see the shadow of his Bland's face above his as if shielding him from a scorching sunlight, his feverish mind thought with a jest, maybe it was a vulture's head waiting him to die so it could devour him right after his death. But wasn't he living in the nest of the vultures all this time..? So it's only natural that at least one of them would wait for him to die in his own bed like that.

"Muu….!"

A childish voice called out to him, he pulled his mind from its vertigo ride. "…yes, Bland..?"

"…get well..!" the spoilt tone made him wanted to mess the beast's head, but he couldn't feel his own hands.

"…hnng…!" he made an agreeing sound, "…you are free to go tomorrow..!" he didn't know why he'd said that, but it felt right, something in his mind whispered it.

"…nooo….!!" His Bland sounded like he's beginning to cry again, but it's still sounded so childish so he laughed, or tried to, or maybe he laughed in his mind..? He couldn't distinct what happened anymore so he decided to sleep.

"Muu is Master..!" he thought he could still hear his Bland said it with his possessive childish tone, he thought he answered it with an unconcerned "…okay…." before his mind turned to whirling black.

Out the windows the snow fell silently without a sound, the wind didn't blow; it's as if they didn't want to mark the opening of a darkened day after the night dawned.

His beast hearing could hear the footsteps of many people with heavy outfits, the metal sounds heard every now and then only meant one thing. He got up from the one bed, put on his velvet robe and intended to guard the door to the downward-staircase, but before he reached it the wooden door banged open; and there he stood facing the soldiers in their full-armors with unsheathed weapons in their hands. He widened his eyes, not knowing what was occurring at the moment; he saw it when the club hit the left side of his head, but since he was never opposed by anyone of the palace he didn't dodge it, not knowing whether he was allowed to even resist or not. His Master never stated about what he could and could not do in such condition before.

He heard the impact sound resounded in his ear which wasn't hurting, as if penetrating through from his pained ear, as his body swayed to the side following the direction of the pain piercing his head; he thought if he fell he could brace himself on the bedpost but another thought that he didn't want to involve his Master made his feet stood his ground, even though staggering for a couple steps, but he could manage it. His surprised face must be lack of emotion but he glared at the humans by the doors with his beast-eyes shone with instinct to defend himself. He could taste his own blood trailed from the side of his head into his slack mouth since his body was still tilting to the side after the impact, it made him fully aware that he was in danger and that he should at least reacted with something above their hazard-level.

He made a menacing hiss without a sound at them, showing his sharp bloody teeth. The sight made the humans gasped and gritted their teeth, but they braced themselves with sharp weapons up.

The glints of the metals almost blinded his mind with the awareness of dangers, if he didn't mind of his Master laid in the bed sleeping tiredly for only a couple hours before dawn he'd launch himself at the humans just to make them weaponless as his instinct told him to. He called out for his wind and it whirled around him with blustery sounds; it made his loose hood and robe fluttered. The human soldiers made a sound of fear and presented the club's head to a waiting Counselor, who opened his left palm accepting the drip of the beast's blood left on the wooden club; then covered the space above it with his right palm while he read some chant of a strange language.

Bland knew they were up to something, so he tried to let fly his wind at the lone Counselor stood in the middle of the soldiers on the inner landing, but his wind twisted halfway and swirled as if a living creature in pain, then went back to him in a wide spin with an almost howling sound. That surprised the beast that he was stood frozen, the wind around him twisting in their own hysteria. The Counselor wrote a symbol around the blood drip using the pointy nail-ornament he wore on his right little finger like using a pen and ink of his blood.

And he didn't know what really happened as suddenly he felt like his blood rushed down to the lower parts of his body, making his feet felt like they melted and fused to the floor, and he was left suffocated and lightheaded. The Counselor lifted his left palm above his head facing him; he gravely aware that his wind dissipated instantly as the symbol presented to his sight, even though he didn't recognized what it was; then the palm was brought down slowly, he really didn't know what was happening, he only knew that even though he didn't lost his physical strength he couldn't fight the invisible power pressing his body inside out. And the next thing he knew he was on his knees, gasping for breath, trying to keep his consciousness by the thought of guarding his Master lying vulnerable on his bed. His mind whispered that he should have built a ward by the inner door so that someone wouldn't have the chance to get his blood to fight him with; but his slipping awareness said that it was already too late to even think that…he wanted to scream…his Master said that he could call out to him for help when he need it…if he could only find his voice…..

There were a series of loud sounds near his ears, and he found two soldiers had already gotten into the room, each of them had a pair of spears in their hands they used to cage his neck with; a pair crossed above his neck and another pair crossed under it with the long spear-blade down stabbing the wooden floor, they made it that if they pushed down the upper crossed spears it would make his neck undeniably pressed to the lower spear-blades. And the Counselor still having his left palm open at the direction of his head, that alone already made him unable to move and breathe.

Something is terribly wrong…, his mind repeated in panic; if one Counselor could beat him down like that with only a little chant and a drip of his blood, then what would happen if all those lining Counselors were to stand against him...? Somehow his Master had forgotten to mention that the country they lived in was the land of beast-tamers'….he tried to call out to his Master in his heart.

Something is wrong. The voice of Instinct echoed in his mind.

'..Master…'

Something's really wrong!

'Master..!'

This's not right!!

'MASTER..!!'

Then everything's muted, there was an empty moment where everything stopped happening, the pressure stopped pressing him down, his blood stopped being sucked downward, his lungs stopped suffocating, his head stopped thinking, his body stopped trembling, and for a moment he thought he also stopped existing. A little warm wave floated him upward for a short heavenly moment then it threw him down again along with the pains he was suffering.

Bland threw his head down vomiting what-liquid was in his stomach with a loud pained sound; bracing his body with his hands so he wouldn't get decapitated by the spear-blades already made two bleeding cuts at either sides of his neck. After that he could breathe again even though he had to struggle to do it; slowly he could feel his body again, and was aware of the familiar presence in front of him. He looked up just as much as the spears on his neck allowed him to, and found the condescending stare of a despotic Halberd looking down at him with a scroll of paper tied with a black ribbon in his hand.

"You…!" the human stared him down with his chin held high, "…are convicted for killing a palace Counselor, either it was deliberately or not..!" Halberd said low almost hissing it out. There was a mask of satisfaction he didn't even try to hide on his face.

Bland widened his eyes. He tried to speak several times, but he didn't even understand what to be denied, or what to be reasoned; as his voice failed him he could only moved his head a little in a jerky shake, tears welled up from his wet eyes.

This is not right..!! The voice of instinct screamed in his head, numbing his mind as he tried to understand the situation.

Halberd smirked as he saw the beast's face turned ghostly and lack of other emotion except for grave surprise, the beast even forgotten to tremble by his pain. "Take him..!" Halberd pointed behind with a snap of his head. That jerked the beast to motion as he tried to push the spears above him to get free; behind the human he could see another soldier with two pairs of shackles and chains in his hands. A booted foot kicked his middle section hard, he gasped painfully and propped his pained body with a hand, after another second passed his other hand let go of the spear and embraced his stomach as his breath failed him again. The foot turned his chin up; "…or do you want your master to take the responsibility..?!" Halberd said with a steel voice.

He whimpered; he could actually hear the sound rather than feeling it out of his mouth.

"You understand?"

"..good boy..!" Halberd said with a sweet smile, patting the beast's cheek with the inner side of his boot.

"….is this a new wake up call, Halberd..?" a half slurred voice asked from the bed. Then all eyes turned to the bed's occupant sitting up with his eyes still closed.

His Bland made an alarmed sound as if telling him to go, his mind pointed; he opened his still half asleep eyes as the scroll was thrown to his laps. Opening the scroll, he read it cursorily. "…The 66th South Gate Counselor…?" he mumbled it aloud.

"The Counselor who brought you food until yesterday..!" Halberd cut in sharply.

A gasp heard from his Bland, he glanced at him and noticed his bleeding left side of his head despite the hood covering it; he was staring with shocked disbelieving eyes at him, that was why he could see that the beast's left eyeball was blackened by inner bleeding apparently from the head trauma he got; it made him frowned coldly a little. And he'd already overlooked the bleeding cuts on his neck, his mind hissed.

"…and why is it my beast's fault..?" he asked with an almost conversationally tone if not for the stings in its end.

"The Counselor hung himself last night. His last letter clearly stated that he was accused for a premeditated crime against your safety, and said that he took full responsibility for any misdeeds he'd ever done to you; if there was ANY..!!" Halberd said with the victorious tone as his face showed his satisfaction over the details.

He glanced at his step-cousin and back to the scroll; so he'd let it slip from his eyes, he didn't thought that his step-cousin's intimidation to his beast the other day was actually to bait him to confront the Counselor about the food. No, his mind commented, it was about the poison..! He took a glance at his beast now crying openly as if believing it was really his mistake; the fact was, Halberd or his uncle Marquisse could be the ones who ordered to poison his food, but the Counselor couldn't really go against their authority or expose it, and to accuse a Royal would be staking someone's life with the whole family along, the lightest punishment would be cutting their tongues, but false accusation or something stated as one would be sentenced of deaths; for all he knew his step-cousin's men might have executed the Counselor and stated it as a suicide; since if the case got to questioning his safety in the Tower, some rebels might try to free him again, but if it was the case of his beast's mistake then people would only take the easiest way and blame his beast in the end rather than questioning their rulers' misdeeds.

He snorted, scrolled the paper shut again. Tied his hair on his nape with a hair band he used to tie around his wrist, got down from the bed to the sink and walked back with a wet cloth in his hand. He handed the scroll back to his step-cousin without looking at his face, then turned to the soldiers disabling his beast. "Release him, please..!" he said levelly. The soldiers looked stunned for a moment, then pulled back their spears and moved to their left side near the wall opposite their ex-prince, as if regarding him. Their behavior made Halberd frown in dislike; they didn't dare to look at him.

"…Master…." The beast whispered almost mouthing it, "…I didn't…!" his little voice was swallowed again by his tears, his wide shocked eyes stared him soulfully, pleading him.

He gave his Bland a silent "I know…" wiping the blood trailed on his face; there was a small trail of blood managed to get into his left eye and dissolved by his running tear, made it like he had different colors of tears from both eyes. He cleaned the left eyeball as well using the wet cloth, as the beast's eyeballs were actually made of a surface like a clear marble, but he couldn't clean the bleeding inside, somehow it made him upset even though he knew he couldn't do anything about that. When he pulled back his hand, Bland grabbed it as if knowing what he would do; but wasn't it obvious? For him there's no other way.

"What do you want to do with him, Halberd?" he casually asked while releasing his Bland's hand gently. The beast whimpered once, begging him not to proceed; he'd do anything as long as he could protect his Master.

"I haven't decided yet. For now I'll just confiscate the beast..!" he left 'for good' unspoken, but it stated in his eyes.

He stood up, "Ten lashings would suffice?"

His Bland instantly threw himself onto his right foot, prostrating until his forehead literally weighing it with his hands clutching the ankle; he whimpered his pleading out long and suffering.

Halberd only lifted his shoulders in an unconcerned gesture.

He didn't try to pull his foot knowing his Bland wouldn't let it go. Instead, he intended to call his Blood up, "Let go, Bland!" The trembling hands clutching his ankle fell to the floor acquiescently, and he didn't even summon his Blood yet; and all eyes that were present knew the fact as well, it made Halberd narrowed his eyes, it seemed that his Blood didn't weaken by years of poisoning.

He pulled his foot letting the beast's head fell to the floor with a thud muffled by the hood, and walked to the side of his bed where he received the lashings years ago.

"You don't need to kneel, Cousin Milliard..!" Halberd cut when he saw him bent forward to kneel down. "It wouldn't be appropriate to treat you like that, now would it..?"

The half sleepy eyes took a glance at him, knowing what his step-cousin's real intention was; with his height, giving a lashing to someone kneeling down would make it difficult for him to use all his strength. He looked back to the floor in front of his feet; what ever, he thought, suppressing a yawn, he was still very sleepy from fighting the poison effect that night; just let it done and get over with, his mind whispered.

His Bland gasped loudly as his step-cousin took out the riding-whip from a leather sheath hung from his waistband; he, too, could smell it in the room's air, it was the same poison that almost got him down for the whole night; he suspected it was more fatal than the poison he'd eaten yesterday. And to poison him through open wounds would make it more ruinous than poisoning him through his already adapted digestion. A thought flashed in his mind; could it be that the Counselor knew that his step-cousin would use such a way of tricking his beast so he could expose him to the poison in such a way..? That's why the man probably poisoned the food yesterday in his own accord and risked his own life just to give him the little chance to adjust to the poison?

Right; he could see it now, the links his people tried to bind themselves with to connect to him, more than just loyalty. It was as if they reached out to him with their souls, more than their physicals, more than their hearts, more than their existences. A warm wave welled up from inside his chest as he closed his eyes, a small smile tugged on his lips, the recognition about his people made his heart felt like it dissolved into the air, and dispersed filling the whole room, made contact with the others inside the room besides him. His mind registered the first lashing his step-cousin gave him, but he almost didn't feel it physically as his awareness flowed outside his body. He could feel the people's compassion that they would take the lashings themselves if that would help their only living-Hope even how little help that would be.

The one Counselor jerked his head to the side a little, as if he could feel his heart in the air, his chin trembled a little and he faced down hiding his relieved tears with his loose hood, boosting his own recognition to welcome his Sire's touch to his spirit.

The soldiers' spirits were defeated, but their loyalty still survived; they were like his Pride, waiting the Time to stand high and righteous again.

His Bland was on the verge of hysterical, he doubted that the Beast could recognize him in the air; he was overwhelmed with the empathic pains he felt for every lashing his body had to endure; for now he let him be. He tried to touch his step-cousin's air, but the rejection was too strong, it felt like the dark side of his Pride; maybe in a sense it was, the dark side of his step-cousin's Pride; he made a note not to turn to his own dark side again like the night he'd beaten his beastling mindlessly.

"…..—no…"

"…- - noo…!"

His Bland seemed to be overloaded and started to mumble his denial out, shaking his head jerkily to the sides; his heart went to his crouching figure, trying to calm him down, but the beast couldn't feel him even when he tried to touch their blood-link, it seemed that his abused-devotion had blinded his heart of hearts to even register his feelings of more than just the pain or humiliation. He had to get to him before he break, he thought; but as if reacting to that concern, his Bland suddenly broke out yelling at the top of his lungs.

"I DIDN'T DO SUCH A THING; STOP IIIIIITT..!!!"

The world fell into the room in a click as all eyes turned to the crying beast on the floor; his awareness was instantly pulled into his body again, he turned his head a little to his right side, glancing at his Bland by the end of his eye; the pain came shooting down his whole body even though his back felt somewhat numb except for some lines of fire crisscrossing its skin. His mind lurched down with his sinking heart; that would give his step-cousin the reason to detain his beast, and as if answering him his beast yelled again.

"I DIDN'T DO IT; I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING…STOP HURTING MY MASTER..!!" his red eyes looked crazed with streams of tears running freely; and he knew his Bland wouldn't stop now, he stifled a sigh and closed his eyes.

"IT'S WRONG, MASTER; I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING..!! TELL THEM THEY'RE MISTAKEN…!!"

He turned his face forward ignoring his beast's cries; the room was silent as if they could actually hear the temperature got colder.

There was no recognition from his Master what so ever; the chill eased his heated mind somewhat, gradually he realized that everyone in the room had their eyes on him except for his Master. His labored breaths were loud in the silent room, he could hear his own heart beating like crazy in his ears, numbing his hearing; but he still could realize it that his Master was shutting himself from him.

He sniffled wetly once, eyes searching his Master's figure from the back that somehow looked like a silhouette to his eyes. "…Master..?!"

No answer, no recognition. He couldn't feel their blood-link.

"……Master….?" His voice sounded so small, like a lost child. His ears could hear a snicker from somewhere in front of him, but his mind didn't want to register the person who let it out.

Then there was a loud cracking sound like thunder to his numb ears, he jerked fearfully and shrunk back, staring at his own hands scratching the wooden floor tightly leaving scrap marks on it. There were whispers repeatedly cursing him in his head;

..you made a mistake..

You made another mistake..!

Stupid beast..!

….ignorant spoilt beast…!

He jerked again every time the crack sounded; he tried to hold his tongue by biting it…even his Instinct was cursing him, he sat hunched trembling violently feeling himself getting smaller and smaller while the bad world felt getting bigger and bigger.

The loud sounds had stopped but his Instinct told him that it's not over yet, still cursing his stupidity for not being able to hold his tongue to himself. Bland unconsciously let out a long whimper, sounding so sad and pitiful. He could feel the evil stare burnt on him; somehow his Instinct had him braced himself for the coming punishment.

"All ears in this room heard the accusation, right..?!" Halberd said with a wide smirk, there were glints in his grey eyes dancing playfully, like the eyes of a child having his favorite game played.

Bland's gasp choked in his constricted throat, his head was trembling jerkily restraining the wild sobs he was making.

"….Halberd…" his Master's voice was slurred as if he was almost falling asleep; "…just get done with it, I'm sleepy…!" he added with a half bored tone.

His step-cousin suddenly put his chin on his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his tied blond hair that was put to his front when he presented his back; his hands were encircled forward almost embracing him from behind, but he was minding to not touch the broken skin on his back; perhaps he didn't want to get the poison on himself, a little awareness whispered in his sleepy mind.

"…and how many lashings should the false accusation to ME be appropriate, Cousin..?" Halberd whispered gently. "Did you not teach your beast about his place and MINE..?!"

He chuckled sweetly, "…or about yours, Prince Milliard..?"

Snorted once, "He's my concern,--.." but a gloved hand instantly covered his mouth.

"Do you think I like doing this..?!!" his step-cousin's voice suddenly exploded with anger. "You teach your little hooded-beast about this big-bad-country properly or some bad-bad-humans will fuse him into the palace walls..!!" the riding whip was swiveled back in a wide swing to the beast's direction.

"Don't.." he turned to whisper again, steeling his tone; "…enjoy it when I lowered my hand just to touch you in you lowly place..!! I never liked the high-view, Milliard, not like you..!" he added the last part silently.

"Do you understand what I'm saying, beast..?!" he pressed the beast's head with his foot so that his forehead hit the floor; the beast's body trembled but it seemed that he had his tongue bitten to not make a sound. And he was waiting his answer, so he stepped on harder banging the beast's forehead once more to the floor, "Do you..?!!" he repeated.

The clutched hands jerked once, there was a choked whimper coming from him. "….yess.." and a small answer in a very small voice.

"Yes--…?!"

A choked gulp; "…yes, ….Young Lord…!"

Halberd snickered, pulling his foot after giving it a shove to the head under his sole; "Good, I'll just give you one warning this time. I'm not too much of a bad tyrant, aren't I..?!"

He turned in a swift and gave all his strength in one wide swing slashing diagonally down his blond ex-prince-cousin's back. The beast actually heard the blood splattered sharply on the floor and it made him reflexively let out a painful surprised moan. Halberd had some drips on his other boot and he casually wiped it to the beast's robe like a floor-mat; he didn't spare a glance to his blond step-cousin looking like he was almost fainted on his feet, he didn't want to see that Pride again backfired to him like years ago.

Sheathing the whip back, he turned and gestured to the others to exit the room. By the doors he paused, "…since it wouldn't be good for your safety, and anyone's credibility, should they have any misleading prejudice about their misdeeds towards you, Cousin Milliard…from now on you are free to manage your own food from here…!" he paused as if he wanted to add something, but his lonesome air betrayed his despotic tone, he didn't say what ever was on his mind after that.

"You still have a title waiting with that white robe, Milliard. It's better than nothing…." His voice was halfway muffled by the closing door.

Bland was instantly at his Master's front, catching his falling body while his own body was still trembling uncontrollably. "…it's okay…." His Master's voice was breathless; but it was him instead who got to be calmed down with his Master's larger hand stroking the back of his head since the hood fell to his shoulders in his haste.

"…..you are free to go, Bland…" his Master said the same words like that night; he still didn't want to think of what it meant, so he hid his tearstained face on his Master's hunched shoulder pulling his body to rely on his shorter one. He felt his Master's hand slipped from his head and dangled limply by his side, his beast's hearing still could register the voiceless word coming from his lips, calling his name once; then his Master's body weight leaned completely to him as he lost consciousness.

The silent snow fell rapidly outside; he didn't howl out his despair this time, only wanting to melt away like snow on his Master's palm. He wanted to disappear completely.

As said, there was no one bringing food to that room that day; perhaps poisoning his Master wasn't enough, they intended to make him die of hunger as well, his beast-mind managed to form in his shocked despairing state. His Instinct told him to get help, seeing that his Master's back already blistered with sickly blue-blackish color. The smell of the poison stung his nose with his every breath, the room felt freezing even for his beast skin. In his shock he couldn't arrange his body temperature to warm up his master's body with his; he could only cry silently, not knowing what to do after licking the blood from his Master's wounds and cleansed them with a wet cloth. People outside were suffering like that too, his mind pointed; freezing, hungry, pained and ill and didn't have anything to mend themselves with, they too could only cry for their loved ones suffering, not knowing whom to turn to for help. He'd known it for a long time…for a very long time since he could read the air and the winds; he just didn't know what to do; …then…., now, too…

His Master's ragged breaths turned shallow by the dusk time, the even more freezing temperature worsen his deteriorating body, and he hadn't gained consciousness since morning. His weak uneven heartbeat told the beast that his Master was dying; his Instinct too told him that his Master was dying…

Covering his Master with the blanket he made up his mind; stood up and went out after giving his Master's head a lingering stroke. His tears were already dry since hours earlier.

The Palace court was lighted with ground-torches on some strategic places; the arc-roads were lighted with hanging lamps along the length, the walls were lined up with lamps and other sources of light, even the fire-crystals from foreign countries; but still, even with the lavishness of it all the Palace seemed grey for him. He never entered the Palace's living quarters before, he never wanted to be acquainted with its denizens, but now he had no other option.

The snow had started to fall again, lighter, just enough to mark it that it was an evening in the winter. He stood still on the center of the courtyard of the innermost gate to the Palace, staring at the snowy ground, not minding the guards stared him with alert in their wide eyes. The fallen snow gave specks of white on his black velvet robe. He waited…

About more than an hour later Halberd came back on his horse with a flock of his fawning royal patrons' sons behind him, he saw the beast stood on the center of the wide court but didn't give a care; proceeding into the Palace to have a party with his useless flock. While the other drank till their brains turned to mud, he watched the small figure in black robe on the courtyard from the window, sipping his warm beverage trying to inhale fresh air from the outside rather than the sharp smell of the liquors the useless flock was having behind him. Every now and then some drunk youngster would come to his seat and encouraged him to join their stupid party, he declined evasively; when that didn't work, he glared at them. He hated those people, but they kept fawning at him; and if he didn't let them in his company then he'd be alone. A bright room full of plastered fools sometime was better than a cold dim room where he's all alone; he stared the lone black velvet robe in the center of the courtyard coldly, a thought flashed in his mind.

He could kick all the stupid drunkards out and had the beast in; he was still very young but surely his prideful cousin had taught him something, right? He chuckled to himself at the thought, sipping his cooler beverage.

"Hey, Young Lord, where did you get pretty maid-girls like them..?!" a slurred yell heard from the tables followed by squeals coming from the scared maid-girls who got caught by some of the leering youngsters when they served the drinks.

Halberd snorted derisively, banging the mug in his hand hard to the window ledge. "Shut up; go home..!!" he stood up and walked in wide strides to the doors.

"Whaat..?? Come on have your drinks, or are you have someone more important than us…?!" a blond teenager ran after him, his hair color was an annoying reminder of his prideful cousin in the Tower; but only the hair color and not his cheeky attitude.

He ignored them and got down to the courtyard, stopped by the stone terrace; the cold winter air made him shivered but he didn't want to let others know about it, so he waited for sometime until his body adapted to the cold. The beast in black robe stood still like a scarecrow, snow was already piled on his head and around his feet hidden by the pooling long robe. He walked to the beast slowly, not really wanting to make a scene in case his father would get disturbed.

"Whooa…!! Halberd had a new toy and not sharing with us..!!" the blond teenager turned out following him, he was chuckling drunkenly. "Hey, Halberd, let me join..--"

Halberd slapped the liquor mug in his hand, it flung to a few meters rolling on the snowy stone ground. "Didn't I tell you to shut up!! Get inside or I'll kick you out..!!" he snarled. The blond teen shrunk and wobbly hurried inside, peeking from behind the door panel and ran inside when he realized that Halberd was still glaring at him.

He approached the beast until about a couple meters away from him; "…what?!" he asked flatly sounding annoyed. The beast jerked as if waking with surprise from a trance, realizing it was him standing before him, he instantly threw himself to prostrate until his forehead hit the ground.

"….Young Lord…!" he greeted with a small trembling voice.

"What?!" he repeated with a steel voice, crossing his arms to keep his chest warm.

"Master is…--"

At the mention of him still with that title Halberd quickly turned his body without so much a word and headed back to the doors.

"…I'll do anything..!!" the beast immediately yelled on his knees, perhaps he himself didn't really mean it what would come along with those words. Halberd stopped and looked behind his shoulder, the beast seemed to realize what he'd said and fearfully hunched down until his hood hid his downcast face.

"Anything? Like what..?!" Halberd turned back to him and stepped closer a little.

The beast realized he'd just consented to walk into a trap by himself, but wasn't it what he'd made his mind for..?

"For what..?" Halberd asked in an almost encouraging tone.

"My…Master…is ill….!" The beast said steeling himself. "Please…some medicine..!"

"And you'll do anything for me in return? Like what..?!" he was smirking, still testing.

The beast hands were trembling, "…anything…?" The small answer sounded hesitated, it's like asking back what would be included in his 'anything', that made Halberd frowned in dislike. The beast was always ignorantly asking for him to treat him even more cruelly, he thought.

"What if….'anything' includes things like this..?!" he squatted and reached out to pull the beast's quivering chin up, letting his memory open so the beast could feel it under his skin; he was not inexperienced with sex, with both female and male partners; as the only son of a tyrant there were many who would fawn at his feet using their bodies; and even as shameless and disgraceful he thought about it and hating it….but he was lonely.

The beast jerked by sudden self-consciousness, trying to snap his head to get away from his hand; but Halberd didn't let him, he clutched the tiny chin tighter, feeling a wave of excitement welling inside him making his head felt lighter; it even better than any liquor would do. He chuckled deep, every small squirm the beast made only rubbed his sadistic side even more; how he'd like to beat the hell out of that beast in front of his blond cousin; wouldn't they make a perfect drama-couple together..? Making a perfect guilty scene, crying and pleading for each other's sake….!!

"…Young Lord….anything that pleases you…." The beast said in a pleading tone, closing his eyes fearfully.

Halberd realized that his sudden thought might have also flowed to the beast; he looked at the beast's face closely, he was good looking, he admitted; not like many beastly-looking beasts he usually encountered. "Is that why you meant a lot to him…?!" the low voice sounded angry; for some reason he got irrationally angry and pulled the beast's head up to his own face level, tightening his grip even more, meant it to hurt.

"..ah..!" the beast let out a pained sound reflexively and immediately hold himself back from making other sound, instinctively knew it that it would make the human more vicious. The hatred and jealousy he felt flowing from the human's hand was suffocating him; like a liquid fire filling his veins.

"..'anything' includes those things..?!" he asked with a wild smirk.

"..yes…!" the beast sobbed out his answer.

"…….and more..?!"

The beast sniffled once, his throat seemed to constrict; "…m…more…!" the closed eyes started to get wet. He tossed the beast's chin to the side uncaringly; the beast managed to brace his body before hitting the ground, slowly he dared himself to look at the human looking down disgustingly at him, he let out a surprise yelp when the human suddenly slapped his face hard making him fell to the ground.

Halberd stood and spat on the beast's head; "Whore..!!" he said flatly, "As if I would take someone's used toy! …moreover a lowly beast..!!" he smirked at the end.

'…for Master's sake…'

His Master is not like that..! The Instinct screamed its denial about the accusation.

'for Master's sake..!'

Master is not such a human..!!

"…for Master….." he mumbled to calm his Instinct to endure this for the moment.

Master is a nurturer not a devourer..!!

The Instinct told him to just kill the human degrading his Master and everyone else on his side; his mind went blank, he stared vacantly as the human walked away from where he was half lying on the ground; the scenery seemed almost like an absurd dimension where everything twisted into disproportional unrecognizable things to his eyes.

MASTER IS NOT YOU…!!

…and his world muted; Instinct moved his arms and he felt his body straightened from the ground, everything was a blur….and there was the realization that his Master was dying, waiting alone in the freezing Tower for him to bring the medicine. A very small voice echoed from inside his head, he wasn't sure whose voice that was, but it sounded like the sound of a drip of water in his muted world; it said only one word:

….help…

Maybe it was the sound of his heart calling out for his Master's hand…

Halberd stopped his walk as he felt the little tremors traveled on the stone ground, at the same time he heard a loud bang followed with a sickly splat. He paused for a couple of seconds before looking behind slowly; everyday he'd seen poverty made people do things he'd find degrading, he'd used to seeing children begged the patrons for anything to safe their family members; crying, pleading, holding the rich's shoes even though they're getting beaten; he'd used to steeling his heart, if not his conscience would die a little everyday, and what would be left for himself if that happens? Who would love him a little earnestly if not for himself? No one loved a tyrant's son sincerely, right…?

The beast's labored breath heard loud in the silent night, he was trying to pull himself together, his hands clawed jerkily at the snow. The dancing lights made the red blood seemed enticing with its glow; the red-colored snow looked sweet.

"…Young….Lord..! This lowly beast begs for your kindness..!" the beast propped his upper body up, his elbows was buckling a couple times but he managed to lift his bloody face to the human.

"Please…please give my Master some medicine..! I'll do anything you bid me in return…!" the blood trailed from his forehead and dripped from his chin to the snow.

"Please..!!" the beast cried once and banged his forehead again to the stone ground. Halberd could feel the ground shuddered again by the impact.

"Just a little mercy, Young Lord..!" he said again banging his head harder.

"…just a little kindness..!", and again.

"This beast promises you not to bother you again..!", and again.

"…please..!!", and again. Banging the door where he kept his conscience hidden from the world created by his ruthless father; Halberd watched the beast pleaded him like that until he couldn't lift his head again…and he'd used to see blood as well, his eyes stared without so much warmth in them.

The beast tried to push his arms to support his upper body up again, but the strength was gone, both physical and spirit; it was his last plunge to the trap left closed by the human who decided that he didn't worthy enough to be caught, but didn't the human want to see him bathed in blood entreating him with all his might? Crying, and begging, and bleeding…this was still not enough drama for him…?

A gritted moan, one trembling hand had enough strength to push his body upward. "…young….lord…." he managed to say; but the hand slipped by his own blood that made the stone ground slippery, he didn't bang his head for the last time, he fell and laid there face down clawing at the redden snow; regretting his ignorance that he couldn't do anything by himself…nothing right….

Halberd was still staring the beast apathetically; he didn't remember how long he'd been standing there in his indoor garb, he was cold but didn't really mind it. A little awareness made him looked up to the high window partly hidden from his lower view by the banners hung under it, there was a man's silhouette staring down on him for a few long seconds, then it gone into the bright lit chamber. He blinked as the snow fell to his eyes, shook his head to make the molten snow slid down from his face. He stared the miserable heap in front of him again.

"….this is all I have..!" he tossed the little folded package he took from his waistband, "For winter-fever. Drink it when he's sober enough…" he mumbled while walking back to the doors, didn't spare another glance to the beast before he disappeared into the warm Palace.

The beast cocked his head a little to stare at the folded cloth, he took in a couple relieved ragged breaths. "…thank you….." he whispered; then, forcing his body to move, he wormed to grasp the little thing. It felt warm in his freezing hand; he smiled. With that at least his Master would have a little succor…if his Master could gain consciousness for a moment….even just a little bit…, his mind kept repeating the hope.

….it's better than nothing…

…….right…?

---------------

There used to be a moat around the Palace's cliff, its width was the length of the arc-roads serving as the bridges above it; but now the moat was left dry, only remained a deep fosse with large sharp rocks protruding at its base. Bland wormed his way up along the base of the steep cliff, using his small size to slip between what rocks large enough to obstruct his way. He'd somewhat cleansed the blood from his face with the snow, covering the broken skin on his forehead with the hood, instinctively feeling exposed when he thought of others see the wounds caused by the smashed stones.

He got to the cliff base under the Tower at the back of the palace, looking up at the very long vertical way up to the landing of his Master's room. His knees buckled, he slid down to sit desperately trying to gain his strength to summon his wind to carry him up there. But the waiting felt long; he sobbed his frustration out, wiping his unbidden tears using the robe's sleeve.

"…child..!" a soft voice caught him off guard. He jerked pushing his body up using the cliff wall as his support.

From the shadow of a large stone reclining to the cliff came out a middle aged woman, she looked like she had been waiting long in the cold weather; there was a relief look in her eyes.

"Can you read my air..?" she asked gently as she recognized the fearful glare the beast directed at her.

Bland's expression seemed alertly surprised, the woman let him read her air openly….she was the dead Counselor's wife; or should he said widow.

"….unggh.." he didn't know what to do at such a situation; even though he felt it that she didn't hold him responsible for his husband's death, but he still felt like he was the cause of it.

"It's alright. Can I get closer..?" the woman gave him a gentle smile, her serene bearings calmed him down somewhat; he half consciously nodded once.

Even though she asked so but she stopped at a respective distant from the alerted beast, she knew she didn't want to frighten him too much, he's already had so much that day. "My husband left this in my keep, he meant to pass it to you..!" she opened the folded cloth used as a cover to a package she'd been holding tightly in her hands. There was a small bottle in a plaited-root holder, only the size of two adult's fingers; and a small wooden tube the size of a thumb that usually used to keep powder.

Bland blinked at the presented objects in the woman's palm. He looked inquiringly at her with his wide eyes; the look on his face called forth the woman's motherly instinct, she smiled encouragingly.

"The bottle's contain is for open wounds, the powder is to be eaten. Sadly there's no anti-venom for the poison, it was from some foreign country far away from here, but my husband had tried to find some medicine that had contradictory effect that could lessen the poison's attacks….I hope this is enough to mend the King..?" she said slowly, intentionally pressed the last part where she called his Master 'King'; she believed the beast knew what she was talking about.

Bland looked bewildered for a moment, he shook his head hesitantly; the woman knew what was in his mind without needing the ability to read minds, she smiled again.

"My husband knew that someday it would come to this, he was glad that you confronted him about his deeds, although he'd said that he hoped you'd do it sooner; he apologized that he couldn't stand up for the King…"

The woman approached and handed the medicines gently in his hand, he still looked up at her with fear; she reached out to his face, wiping the leftover of the blood smeared on his skin with the end of her damped shawl she covered her shoulder with. He flinched but accepted the kind touch, and he didn't realize it when his tears started to well up from his eyes again until she wiped them as well.

"Now, now…It's alright. Be brave, child…the King only has you..!" she embraced hid head to her chest, he only sobbed louder. "It's alright. You're alright..!" she soothed him repeatedly while the beast cried more and more painfully in her hands; she knew he never had anyone else's affection besides his Master's.

"You are his blessing. Thank heavens he has you by his side, child..!" she whispered; "Don't belief otherwise..! ..Alright?"

"You're not a curse! Don't belief it when someone said it to you..! Not once that you were his curse! Not once that he thought you are his curse..!!"

"Don't lower his love for you..! You understand..?"

Bland nodded whimpering in her tight embrace. She wiped his tears again, "You're a good child…" she smiled; "Now go safe our King…!"

The woman released him and pushed him gently to go, Bland looked at her while wiping his tears, he walked a couple steps away, and acting on impulse he turned and gave her a bow. "….Madam…!" he greeted; then, finding his strength renewed he called out his wind and blasted upward to his Master's room.

The woman looked stunned for a moment, later she chuckled contentedly; "It's been a very long time since someone called me madam, usually they called me 'old lady'..!" And she stood there smiling, there was a solemn air shrouding her; she wished her only child had survived; that way, she wouldn't be alone right now….

---------------

The room was dark and freezing, in his shock-stricken disorientation he'd forgotten to sun the light-crystal that day, thus the crystal stood cold like a cluster of ice in the niche at the corner of the room since it didn't absorb light. Bland's eyes could see in the dark, but the sight of his Master lying still on his front unmoving in that dark room startled him somewhat; he gasped and ran to his side, immediately reaching out to their blood-link once his hand gripped his Master's limp hand; he hadn't gained consciousness the whole time he'd gone out. Bland bit his lips, he had some medicines, but didn't know where to start; he never had experience with things like that. His little mind whispered the anxiety that the medicine could cause negative contradiction instead of mending his Master, the smell of the poison still stinging his nose in the air; this was just getting back to zero, he had some medicine but he couldn't decide anything else to do beside licking the wounds like any beast would. That fact frustrated him.

Fell sitting on the floor, Bland hit the mattress a couple times, burrowing his face in the thin beddings, only cursing his ignorance over and over. The Instinct apparently decided that it wasn't the time to brood over useless thought; Bland jerked with the realization that despite the poison's smell had disturbed him greatly, but he didn't get any physical depletion after he licked the blood from his Master's poisoned back. Could it be that in fact his beast-blood had enough immunity to such poison..?

How could you not notice it from the start..?! The voice of Instinct retorted, it made him flushed to crimson with wide eyes; how much ignorant could one be..?

With that realization, he sprang to his feet and took the blanket from his Master's back. The blackish webs from the poison's infection covered almost his whole back, but he didn't have the time to be distracted now that he knew what he had to do. After cleansing the wounds once again with the wet cloth from the sweat and pus and sipping blood, Bland took the bottle's cork off and smelled the thick liquid inside; after tasting it with his tongue and examined what effect it caused, he rolled his left sleeve and made a pair of cross-cuts on his wrist with his sharp fingernail. His blood instantly welled up from the cuts and he applied the liquid to mix them while the blood dripped heavily to his Master's back.

There was a silent hissing sound when the mixed blood touched the poisoned wounds, his Master reflexively made some moaning grunts even though he was unconscious; Bland snapped his head at him, "Master….is it painful…?" he asked silently, but feeling a little relief that his Master could still respond in any kind. "I'll nurture you to health back, Master…!" he promised, "….don't leave me or tell me to leave…?" his other hand wiped a rebellious tear from his eye.

His blood had liquefied the thick medicine that it could cover his Master's back with only half of the small bottle's content, he decided that he would rather see if it would make some positive progress before he use all of it. Embracing his Master's head while he kneeled by his bed, he thought about the fever medicine that Halberd gave him; indeed, his Master was having a very high fever, but he was still unconscious. "…when Master is sober enough…!" he repeated Halberd's words half consciously, sniffled his runny nose a couple times.

The wait was extremely long, though his little mind pointed that it was still not even reach mid night yet; but he really wished that the medicine effect would be instantaneous; he wanted his Master to immediately stop suffering, because he knew that he had to tend to his other sickness after that covered.

'…patience, Bland. Flowers don't grow in one day…!' somehow his mind replayed the memory when he waited the flower seed he'd brought back from his outing to grow, he'd wanted to give the flower plant for his Master; his Master was more amused with his antics rather than with the present he meant for him.

"…yes, Master.." Bland whispered his answer half consciously. His Master was strong, more than any human he'd saw in that country, his little mind pointed. So he'd just have to wait for now.

He didn't realize it that he'd fallen asleep for the rest of the night, the soft rays casted from the small vertical windows woke him that morning, feeling a little warmed by the sunlight as his exhaustion eased from his body and mind. He jerked to full alert as he realized that it was already morning, but instantly melted with relief as he saw his Master looked asleep rather than half-breath away to death. He let out a long sigh, smiling. "….Master….!" he stroked his blond head and kissed his temple once, feeling the temperature. Now he had to work with the poison in his Master's system.

Oh, wait; food…! His mind pointed that humans ate their meals several times daily; his Master hadn't eaten anything the whole day and night so he better got him to eat soon. He searched the room; of course there's no food in there, his mind complained. Bland scratched his face, perhaps he could find some outside but he didn't want to leave his Master. Moreover, he still hadn't given the powder medicine yet as he was still unconscious.

He blinked. Looking at the cross-cuts still open at his own wrist; he could feed his Master his blood, with the medicine along, his mind pointed. But wouldn't that returning his Master's blood…? The return-blood meant breaking their blood-link, right…?! Because that meant he'd stand at the same level as the benefactor in their bond; but if he didn't feel that way then it wouldn't matter, right…? Because he'd still think of his Master as his master no matter what happen, right…?!

The contradictory thoughts froze him. He didn't want to severe the blood-link with his Master, but the top priority would be his Master's well being. In the end, he chose his Master's safety first; if there's anything he did that broke their blood-link then he thought he'd just serve him as his servant for life. Yes, with that made up, he applied the powder on his cuts and bit hardly, mixing the blood and the medicine in his mouth, he tilted his Master's head to pass it mouth to mouth.

His Master's brows twitched a little in disturbed frown, but complied when he pleaded him in his heart to swallow the transferred blood. When he released his Master's lips, he licked the driblets from his slack mouth and repeated the actions a couple more times until he finished transferring the poured powder mixed in his bloody cuts. After finding that his Master wasn't as deathly pale as yesterday, he decided to check the wounds on his back again; the blackish webs had turned paler almost like the natural color of arteries or veins, the broken skin had dried and the welts had almost gone. But he frowned, the progress didn't satisfy him much since he used to having his own injuries almost instantly healed once his immunity reacted. He licked to taste the leftover poison that might still be on his Master's wounds, finding it got tamer by the medicine he repeated to apply the rest of the liquid medicine using his blood as the solvent, this time licking them onto the wounds; since he wanted to safe some of the medicine in case his Master would need it later.

Someone's watching from the door..! The Instinct jerked him to alert; he'd left a ward at the inner side of the door before leaving his Master alone yesterday evening, even though he knew he still needed a lot of practice with such skill. Reflexively covered his Master's back with the blanket, he saw that it was Halberd watching them from the door that was opened a slit; then he realized that perhaps he wanted to collect the repayment he had promised to the human. But now at the time when he was trying to treat his Master…?

Bland instantly kneeled at the end of his Master's bed facing the door, clutching the bedpost's leg as if it was the substitute for his Master's leg while he put his forehead on the floor, trembling visibly.

Halberd felt the invisible ward erected at the inner side of the wooden door, but knew it that with the promise the beast made yesterday he could order him to let him in.

"Let me in..!" he ordered flatly. There was an involuntary mewling sound heard from the prostrating beast, but he complied; sensing that the ward welcomed him, Halberd stepped inside, tracing the ward with his spirit when he passed through it. The beast's ward was still experimental but already effective enough to keep unwanted people outside, with proper training he thought the beast could be even stronger as he suspected that his blond cousin had never taught him such skill. He stared the said cousin lying unconscious on his bed, he could smell the scent of other potions in the closed air of the room; he supposed that the beast might have found someone else who'd given him something.

Bland felt the human's suspicion and gripped the small bottle and tube in the cover of his long sleeve tighter, grateful that he was holding them when the human came and he could hide them instantly.

Halberd grunted once and headed back to the door, leaving the beast froze in his confusion to why he came there.

Could it be that he wanted to check on his Master..? He thought to himself, staring at the closed door; but went back to continue his activity of licking his Master's back to apply the blood mixed with the medicine. It left only several spots to take care; when he got to finish the last one suddenly he choked by himself and managed to swallow the leftover blood in his mouth, coughing with inflamed face.

'NO!...No nnononononononoo…!!' he ran outside and rammed his head into a pile of snow at the corner of the landing. The memory Halberd let him saw resurfaced with the realization of the human's presence in the room just now; that was….what he'd done to pass the medicine-mix into his Master's mouth could be considered kissing….right? And the rest of the actions usually followed such a kiss replayed in his memory even though it wasn't his.

'Nooo…!! Get out of my head!! Get ouuutt..!!' Bland hit the snow with his balled hands repeatedly, his beast's disposition rejected to think of his Master in such way but the feelings read in those scenes crawled under his skin; the thoughts, the remorse, the hatred of having to engage in such acts, the needs and the ulterior motives known hidden in those smiles and the fake comforts…."…stoop..!!" he got to the layers where he could sense Halberd's thoughts of his Master when he did it with those other humans. Gritted his teeth, Bland arched his back and banged his head to the stone landing in his desperate try to stop the flowing memory. As his vision fading in and out by the impact, he could hear his labor breaths again and not the voices from the memory, his heart pounding rapidly in panic, and his chest constricted. He balled his body clutching his pained chest, sobbed silently feeling the chill winds caressing him somewhat; the human might only wanted to toy with him when he let his memory flowed into him, but he had underestimated his ability to read such intangible things, he'd let the beast to peek into his heart of heart unconsciously. He whimpered there until he could control his heartache again; it wasn't his, his little mind repeated over and over, he didn't have to feel it, just ignore…!

Staggering a little, he went back to his Master's side, swaying a little as he stood staring his immobile figure; the pale skin, the long blond hair soft as the morning rays, the prideful mien with his calm conscientious air, the strength exuding from his aura…how could someone not envy him? How could someone not want him? Bland fell sitting on the floor as he felt his feet turned boneless suddenly, his eyes stared his Master unwaveringly; he'd never seen his Master from an outsider's view before. Swallowed his dry throat once, he shook his head hardly clearing his thoughts; his little mind whispered the warning that his seeing from such a view meant that their blood-link was damaged.

No, it's just a sudden realization, that's all..!! His heart denied stubbornly, but his mind couldn't forget what it had just before; to see his Master from an outsider's eyes felt fulfilling…of something left hollow in his chest that couldn't be satisfied with only his possessiveness as a beast over his Master; it made him want to have him just for himself. That kind of thought was supposed to make him reproves his own impudence, but somehow it made him felt high instead. He frowned at the fact that he didn't feel it wrong; but he kept telling himself that there was nothing wrong with their blood-link.

Yesss…before someone like the Young Lord got their hands on his Master, it better if he had him all to himself---NOO..!! Bland sprang to his feet, gritted his teeth so hard that his gum started to bleed; he walked stiffly to the landing again, threw himself down on a pile of snow and distractedly clawing at the snow he brought it to his hot forehead. 'If he didn't feel that way, then it wouldn't matter'..?! His mind rebuked himself, repeating his own thought before he decided that it's alright to feed his Master his beast-blood. Now, it's too late to think it twice, his little mind said; he should continue or leave just as his Master said yesterday. His heart said that he didn't want to leave, then it left him to just continue until his task finished; after that if his Master decided that he wasn't worthy to be kept, he'll leave.

The thought of leaving his Master didn't feel hurting anymore, as there were starting to grow in the back of his mind some hazy pictures and blurry ideas of what he would do once he got on his own; the fact that he didn't feel hurt and abandoned shocked him. Only some minutes before his Master was his Life, now it felt like he wanted to own him. He hit the balled snow onto his forehead hard; Master owns, beast owned..!! He reiterated those words over and over with that action until his head felt numb by the cold snow.

It would be better if he could cling to his Master now when he's losing himself like that…

The birds of prey cawed as they circled the wide sky above the Tower; it already gotten to dusk again, his mind pointed. The beast only stared apathetically at the grim lighted sky, suddenly it felt that the sky wasn't as vast as before; it made him feel like fleeing. The Instinct didn't voice anything since after Halberd visited the room, and he didn't even wonder why. The light-crystal started to emit little sparkles as the thing sensed the approaching darkness of the night; Bland glanced at the cluster of crystal he'd put in the middle of the landing that day, the small glitters of light hypnotized his inebriated mind; he stared at it until the short-lived twilight's light died and made the crystal shone like a lamp.

After putting the crystal in the niche, he went to check his Master's back, finding the wounds only left redden crisscrossing marks on his skin; the improvement didn't wake his feelings, though, he only proceeded to feed the medicine-mixed blood to his Master's mouth like he did that morning, feeling empty as if he were already abandoned. A warm tear traveled down his indifferent face and dripped from his chin to his balled hand near his Master's forehead, he stared at it listlessly; it didn't feel like his own.

By mid night, when he fed his Master his blood since there was nothing else he could give him, he wept painfully; despite the fact that his Master was getting far better, he felt dead on the inside, missing his Master to reach out to him. He was missing his Life dearly…

"…my Master…..!" he muttered, "….my dear Master……" stroking the blond head he put on his laps like a fragile thing; but his Master didn't wake up to hold him. Despite his early-adolescent appearance, he was still only a 6-years old child, and the world didn't treat him as one. He cried until his eyes couldn't let out tears anymore; it was the same as the night when he cried his eyes to dry over his abused Master. Aside from his Master that was getting better, in the inside he was the one feeling worse than that first night, more lost and more alone.

The dawn came silently lighting his back from the tall windows, making his shadow fell on his Master's head. It felt odd, for the beast, that somehow his shadow could touch his Master in a way that he couldn't. He stroked the blond head once, slowly; feeling every little sensation on his fingers and palm; a realization occurred in his little mind, that somewhere in the shade of his frame his shadow's hand was also touching his Master's head hidden from his eyes, unrevealed by the light. Somehow it made him angry; if he could just rip that shadow off from his Master's figure….

He gripped at the shadow lying on his Master's head, he didn't feel the shadow's presence in his balled hand, there were several long blond locks caught in it; he stared at the crushed locks and jerkily tossed them, pulling his hand behind his back. He didn't think that it hurt his Master for he was still looking soundly asleep without a care to the world, to him. The beast cocked his head to the side slowly, still staring at his own shadow; it'd be convenient if he could peel it off from his Master, he thought to himself. He lifted his hand almost to the level of his own head; there were the soft clink sounds in unison as he clawed his nails out.

The beast stared fixedly, his mind kept playing the vision what he wanted to do with his own shadow; he didn't care about the part of shadow that didn't touch his Master, he only wanted to peel off the part of the shadow that touched his Master without his permission. Where should he start first..? His mind repeated; from the top of his Master's head…to the shoulders…a neat curved line along his slender figure….No, with his nails he could make five lines in one go, his mind pointed.

…that's right……from the top of his head… The beast slowly moved his open claw to his Master's head; …then Master is no one's but yours only..! His mind whispered sweetly; he smiled at that, proceeding to move his hand to peel off his shadow….

Some locks were cut by his fore finger's nail and middle finger's, Bland instantly froze and stared wide eyed at the sight of his Master's severed locks lying there as just 'thing' and not part of his Master anymore. It might be not much of a thing for humans, but for beasts it was as good as hurting them. Feeling that all logics hit his head in a sudden dive, Bland pulled his hands and hid it behind his back; he realized what he was intending to do logically, and the realization felt like a stab of knife in his chest. He trembled with labored breaths, gripping his clawed hand with his other hand as if capturing it.

"…wha……what's wrong with me…?!" he whispered sounded afraid of himself; and he should be afraid, too…didn't he just think of mutilating his Master..?

He used his wind to ease his Master's head from his laps to the pillow and hurriedly ran to the sink; after splashing the freezing water onto his face several times he stood with his face down staring nothing at the wet sink, his hands clawed at the stone wall of the sink feeling bereft of something that his mind missed dearly…something wet and warm, and thick with life in its deep red color. Bland retched once, he wasn't that hungry to make him saw his Master as mere food; but his throat was dry and there was nothing in his stomach to be puked out, instead it made him coughed heavily, falling to his knees and hanging onto the stone sink like it were his nurturer's arms. His heart missed him dearly, the tender-storm that was his nurturer.

…..Muu…. he called out in his heart, but his Master still lying on the bed unmoving.

After about half an hour staring at his Master from the sink floor, Bland decided that it was morning meal's time, so he dragged his wretched body to the bed and without even checking his Master's condition he bit his healed wrist and tilted his own head to pass the blood in his mouth without daring to touch his Master with his hands. His Master's lips were a little slack, as he was lying on his side Bland managed to pass his blood a little, but those lips suddenly thinned.

"…Bland.…" the voiceless word was mouthed against the beast's mouth, it made him choked and forced to swallow the leftover blood. He instantly jerked and backed away from his Master's face.

"….stop feeding me your blood.." his Master tried a slurred whisper; there was a trail of blood sipped onto the white pillow trailing from the end of his lips. Bland stared at the red liquid marring the white pillowcase, his head felt light and he remembered that he only wanted to make that trail of liquid not red anymore, since it was the color of his sin. He ran to the shelf, took out a carved wooden mug he once made out of boredom and a disproportioned wooden spoon; filled the mug with the freezing water from the tap at the sink wall, and instinctively called his wind to blend the water. His Master's lighter ice-blue eye opened a slit and watched the invisible wall of the wind lifted the water in a swirling globe, and after several seconds, somehow the globe broke and the water in it spilled into the mug nicely steaming. He frowned, he'd never seen his Bland did that before; he suspected it was his beast doing when sometimes he found the heated water in the canteen in the food basket when it was too cold in the winter, but he didn't think of how he did it; he thought maybe Bland set a fire somewhere outside the Tower area.

"…water, Master…?" the beast spooned the hot water, cooling it off by blowing it a couple times he brought it to his Master's dry lips.

He complied, sipping the spooned water slowly, he didn't feel it before but he was thirsty as hell; all the while staring at his Bland's face. The beast didn't dare looking at his eyes, his hands trembled a little by nervousness and sudden euphoria; but mostly he felt that the beast wanted to flee from his side. Why..? He thought his Bland would cling to him like a bigger-leech now…..

He was deep in his thought that he didn't realize that he'd sipped almost ¾ of the mug's content; he tried to take a brush at their blood-link and was gravely surprise when he didn't feel it. He choked on the little amount of warm water and tried to cough it out. Bland instantly wiped the spilled sum from his face with his robe sleeve. "….I'll get you food right away, Master..!" he said hurriedly and literally ran out of the room.

He was still trying to tame his rebelling throat, "…Wai…t..!!" he called out a hoarse cry, but his Bland was already out of sight in a mere second. He coughed deeper once, "…Bland..!!" and managed his almost normal voice out, pushing his numb hands to prop his body up, but realized that he barely had strength even to only make a dent on the shallow bedding.

He'd made a mistake…he didn't know why but he did it…! He stared with shock outside, searching his Bland's link with his heart; clawing at the bed sheet cursing his stupidity over and over.

---------------

The sky was covered with layers of grey clouds; Bland stood in the middle of one of the main roads in the grim city. The people walked by uncaringly, some were limping or dragging their feet and limbs on the dirty stone ground; no one spared a glance at him, they were already full of their own problems. The used to be lively market road was now more like a mass poverty show; Bland listened to what the wind carried to him and he didn't really eager to serve his Master what he could find there; plus, he didn't have the trade-cash those humans were using to make the deals.

A haggard looking dirty boy suddenly collapsed on his feet gripping them even though they were hidden underneath his black velvet robe, he moaned and pleaded the beast for some mercy; must be because the expensive-looking garment that despite its old-aged appearance it still looked rich in such a poor neighborhood. Bland stared down at the boy, his senses could trace the physical pains that boy was suffering, but that boy was pleading him for some change for his starving family; the wind translated the boy's word to the beast's ears, that by saying family the boy meant some other orphans like him left abandoned in some rundown buildings that had been raided by the soldiers. That kind of thing happened often in the city that people had gotten used to such cruelty now. The beast blinked clearing his mind from the reading.

The boy risked looking up at the hooded figure and seemed deathly shocked finding that it wasn't a human underneath the Palace's robe, his lips trembled after stilled for a breath span, mouthing 'a beast' over and over without daring to make a sound. Kicking his feet repeatedly on the ground, the boy pushed himself away from the beast, screaming in fright when he felt save enough to stand and ran through the slow and tired crowds. Someone must have used some beasts to do their dirty jobs somewhere.

Bland looked up to the direction the fleeing boy had disappeared; some bystanders looked at him and noticed his skin-color and fur-lining on his revealed face. Some people gasped and hurriedly walked away from him, some other were making faces and ignored him all the same, back to their tasks and their poverty. There was no familiarization in the air brushing his awareness, so he decided to look for something to eat in the open landscape outside the city, instead.

The lake on the mountain was almost frozen since it didn't have anywhere to flow to, the surface was already covered with thin layer of ice; Bland didn't find any difficulty to walk on the thin-transparent ice, he was not an earthbound, so he could deny gravity when he meant it. Staring at the dark water underneath the transparent ice in the middle of the small lake, he frowned to himself; the problem was that he'd never find the need to swim, either in such confined water or in currents such as rivers. Remembering that he was a wind-user, he doubted that his body was made to travel under the water. He tinkered with the idea, and questioned his Instinct whether he should cut the water using his wind-blade or just try the humane way….

The voice of Instinct had yet to respond to him, he thought perhaps it was mad at him for letting his Master getting hurt and humiliated and he'd dared himself to feed him with his beast-blood. For now he didn't find the need to make peace with his Instinct, so he put his Master's need for food first. Trying to sense under the water's surface, he found that he couldn't find any trace of water creatures. Doubting his exhausted senses and their accuracy to search in such substance that he'd never really put in good use before; he tried to sense the water again. After finished trying for the third time, he began to suspect that there was something wrong with that lake and not his senses.

"Hello, there, Palace's beast….!" A girl's voice called from the land, Bland turned his head to her; it was a city's girl looking like she was in the middle of food-hunting in the mountain herself, with the tattered plaid-basket in her hand and a pashmina covering her head from the freezing air. She must have recognized him as not a human since he could walk on such thin layer of ice.

"I don't know what you are doing there; but if you're looking for some fish or other prey in that lake, you could just search somewhere where the soldiers hadn't poisoned…!" she said levelly.

Bland stared her wide eyed; she must have thought that he didn't believe her since his face right now was like an apathetic mask. "I saw it myself; they poisoned the waters three days ago..! The citizens already knew it, since they couldn't fish here anymore…!!"

….three days..? Wouldn't that be the day before they charged him for murdering the Palace Counselor? So….could that mean that they already setting it as a trap; they really wanted to let his Master die of hunger…?

"…well, since it's already starting to snow, fishing would be out of the list, anyway…." the girl was still having the one-sided conversation at the rocky shore. "…so, I wonder why they poison it if it's not people's option in the first place..?"

"….do you…. Do you know where to find some human-food..?" the beast asked hesitantly, he tried to read the girl's air but it seemed that she had a strong will that she didn't let it happen. Maybe she was from a beast-tamer's bloodline.

The girl stared him fixedly; "…they don't feed you enough in the Palace..?!" she sounded somewhat brazen for a girl, despite the oppression the Palace's denizens had done to the citizens.

"No, for my Master..!" Bland cut her but realized his words; he clamped his mouth fast and intended to flee the scene.

"You're the Tower's beast..!" she said matter-of-factly without any ill-tempered tone that it made the beast stopped from his escape. "What? They didn't feed someone who was being kept in the Tower, anymore..?" she meant it as only a passing comment, but seemed to realize it as a fact in the end of her sentence for she silenced with a steeling air.

"….so what? You didn't even know where to find what to eat; did you live solely on your Master's blood all your life?" she asked straightforwardly; somewhat sounded like a critic, somehow.

Bland nodded, it's her authoritarian air that he couldn't really deny.

She snorted with a mocking smirk; "So what good would that do?! You couldn't give him your blood or flesh back in time of need; you could heal really quickly but he couldn't use you as his personal food-supply, what a waste of bond..!!"

Bland swallowed his dry throat at her biting words; actually it was an option he himself mulled for a long time in his head, but knowing his Master wouldn't accept it once he gained consciousness.

The girl snorted again, then pointed to somewhere higher she said "Fine..! Go find some cave, try dig some sweet-root or jelly-moss, or some mushroom in the rocky cliffs, but you must be able to distinguish poisons before you go and presented mushrooms since some of them could contain lethal poisons for human beings even though beasts and such creatures wouldn't be affected…! Some sweet-branch you might find from the epiphyte plant of the rowdy-bark trees; or the roots of tail-feather flower hibernating in the sour-grounds…you could just burn them with a little fire to be presentable!"

"…hmm, I guess that's quite much for this time of season; just try find them and explore some more by yourself..!" with that she left the lake without any greeting or farewell.

"…th…thankyou…" Bland bowed awkwardly when he realized the girl already on her way again; she dismissed him with a waving half-concern hand without even looking back, somehow it made it easier for the distressed beast to just take it as a helping hand for he smiled at her leaving figure a little.

…that was the first smile he ever gave to someone else besides his own Master his whole life.

When he got back to the Tower with scraps of food he could find that he thought would be presentable enough for his Master to eat, Bland found his Master was already asleep again; he was still really weak, anyway. And to even survive the poison added the winter-sickness was already a miracle for only a human being; with or without pureblood. Still, a little wave of disappointment dyed what little ease from his beast-heart to murky shade back; he realized it was his first time really took part of actually serving his Master, and somewhere in his heart he wanted that little acknowledgment from him…..that he wasn't a burden, that his Master couldn't live without him..!

Putting the dry leafs-wrapped food on the table, he squatted next to his Master's bed; counting his still weak breaths one by one, feeling more and more empty that his Master didn't wake up even though he was that close to him. Somehow he wanted to blame his Master for not being able to defend himself; that was his life and its circumstances, so why didn't his Master could tame his own life..? Why was he the one had to go through all the trouble with those other humans and their problems…?

You are free to go….that weak whisper heard in his head again, already burnt in his mind since the first time his Master said it the other night before he was gravely poisoned and abused.

…go where….? State it more clearly if you want to get rid of me, Master…..

His Master let out a weak cough, creasing his brows as if feeling some pain; the beast jerked in alert and took off his robe in a flash, then he covered his Master's body with it, still feeling that he didn't dare to touch him physically, afraid of what his hands could do to him. His Master moaned something under his breath, his fingers curled and got a handful of warm velvet-cloth in his weak balled hand; then his face slackened and his breathing got more peaceful after that; he surrendered to a deeper sleep.

Bland watched him from the floor until late afternoon where he found it was warm enough to take the robe from his Master's body, the food he got that morning still untouched on the table; he thought to himself that he didn't really want his Master to eat those scraps of food, anyway, so he stood and intended to go to the city to find some real human food; perhaps since there were still some nicer people which he could trace with his wind, he might asked them to share a little, and he could help them with their works or anything. With that in mind, the beast walked down the city behind the Palace; slowly strolling the grey roads looking for a slight familiarization from anyone somewhere.

A great hawk circled the sky up there, letting out a warning cry once. Bland looked up as the great hawk landed on the rooftop of some blackened ruins on the cliff side opposite the Palace; he blinked and looked behind and realized that he already crossed the city's radius to the outer cliff side. Looking for a tunnel-gate, he walked along the road to his right; as he found one with no locked fences barricading the entry way, he walked into the tunnel, not really minding the dark and damp air. Some hurried sounds reached him from the stone grounds and walls, his ears heard shouts and labored breaths from various sources; they were getting closer his way.

Suddenly a small ragged bundle fell in front of him from the leeway on the wall. It was a small human child, ragged and dirty that he himself almost couldn't recognize the child as human if not for his senses readings. The human child looked up extremely alert of him, there was a slight wild-light danced in her clear eyes; at first the beast thought that it was a male human child, but once she let out a sound of panic he knew it was a little girl. The shouts then closing in from both directions of the lone tunnel and the child realized that she had ended up in a single-tunnel and she'd be captured soon. Looking frantically for a place to hide, she gripped the thing in her hands to her chest tighter; finding nothing the child then turned at him, a flash of something in her eyes…something humane.

The irony touched the beast's heart, and he opened his arm showing the wide and length of the oversized robe; the child took no time to think and hurriedly dove to his feet, her stiff body eased with a little relief when the black robe covered her figure just seconds before the pursuers passed in front of the beast. There were some curious alert eyes on him as the pursuers passed by, they were some other tunnel-children, some were bigger and looked wilder at him but let him be on the side of the tunnel.

After the ruckus died down for some time, the child peeked from under the robe, relieved that they were alone. She crawled out of the robe and looked behind at the beast; the thing in her hands was secured between her knees and body on the ground. The beast blinked at her, already too familiar with the beastly-gesture somewhat made by the human-child; she grinned not so humanely but still tinted with naivety. She mouthed something not of words, then the beast saw the red slashed scar on the front of the child's neck almost hidden by her dirty state. So, someone had torn her voice-cord, perhaps as punishment to all her family; and may be the rest of her family didn't survive, that's why she was there alone becoming a tunnel-child.

The child let him see what was in her hands; a victorious light touched her eyes. The beast stared, long….

…….a row over a dead rat….to be eaten…..! he thought in his head, his face slack of emotion; somehow he'd known for a long time that his Master's people had been living like this for years; that parents left their ailing or wounded children to their deaths just to reduce mouths to feed in their house, that people sold other people just to get something to eat for the day.

Bland stared at the thing the child dangled in her left arm; she'd ripped the rat's tail and somehow it seemed that she thought it would be a fair trade for his help. The beast shook his head, the child bit the tail and chewed on it a little without hesitation, letting the length of it dangled from her mouth; her wide eyes accepted that he didn't want the piece of the dead rat just as it was, without needing any explanation or reason. Perhaps like she had accepted everything turned wrong in her life; she climbed back up into the leeway and ate there, watching the beast's moves under her.

If she were born as a beast in a pack she'd become an alpha-female….

Summed the episode up with only that the beast walked his way again. He closed his mind for most of the trek since there were too many that would plague his conscience later if he let those occurrences enter his mind. Somehow he ended up in the streets in mid town again; there was a very thin pull weaved in the air as the wind brought it to him; he recognized that air, it was the stubborn-air of that brazen girl he'd met that morning in the mountain. A little excitement awakened in his heart; if it was really her, then he thought she might help him again if he told her his circumstances. Not realizing that his face was flushed with high spirit and a smile, the beast ran to the direction the wind blew the pull from.

As he turned the junction, a dark-air stopped his light steps; a commotion heard, the wind carried the smell of fresh human blood, a mother's cry…..he could distinct a mother's cry above everything else, the sounds weaved with life in it…

There were people gathered circling a house from some distance; the soldiers marched away from the circled house; something black was hung on the house door, dripping red liquid. It wasn't a human's head, the beast's eyes saw; it was a dead decapitated crow, with wings spread wide nailed to the door frame; a sign of warning. His steps followed the sounds of the mother's cry in the house. He stopped at some distance in front of the door, just enough to really see what was he witnessing at the moment.

…he recognized the tattered dress smeared with blood piled in rumpled state on the floor, the wavy-curled long hair that was kept in an untidy tail….that must be the girl's mother crying her heart out covering her beaten girl with her own body; the mother looked just like her, only she had white hair and looked older….

….is she dead……? He remembered he asked that question in his beast-mind; then the mother jerked as if she actually heard it, and stopped crying out loud she stared his standing figure outside their door. There were bruises and cuts on her old face; it seemed that the soldiers had beaten her as well.

They stared each other for sometime, there wasn't any hatred or repulse in her eyes; she just looked tired and understanding. Mothers usually had that kind of understanding-stare in their eyes, the beast thought. The girl's fingers on the floor twitched, and curled clawing at her tattered dirty dress; her mother hurriedly held her as she tried to move her body….she let out a wet gurgle sound with her wheeze, and the beast already knew what had happened before he saw the bloody slash on the front of her neck.

Her tears weren't bitter, weren't even accusing; he remembered the Obelisks' masks even had more expression than her blank face….he stared…

A silent whoosh heard in the air and as a brick hit his head the beast jerked to reality by the sudden pulsing pain, he staggered to his side; a trickle of blood from his temple colored the vision of one of his eyes, a red reminder of what had happened with his Master. Of his sin….

"JINX….!!" A loud shout heard and a bigger rock from a ruin was thrown at him, it hit his back and made him stumble forward on his knees.

"Damn-curse..!! How many people you'd victimize until you satisfied..?!" a woman threw a wooden bucket full of sludge from the sewage. And others followed the example, throwing whatever waste and mud and solid things to the slumped beast in the middle of the street, screaming their anger and curses and accusations; calling him names and wishing him gone to any hell fitting his sins. Blaming him for the late King's death and misfortune that befallen the kingdom since the day he was found….

…so many hatred..

…..so many curses…. And he could remember all those curses one by one…

The girl's face in her house contorted in agony, she was crying as if she was having an unbearable pain, her mother held her quivering body tightly…he could see them clearly without opening his eyes; and the air he breathed full of the smell of waste and tears and blood; he didn't cry….

Just like the little human-child striving to live in the dark tunnel didn't cry….if he were a human, wouldn't they of the same age..? Wasn't he more than lucky to have someone to look after him, someone alone in the Tower that was waiting for him to return…

….it's enough that they abhorred him that much, and even if it was more than this; wasn't he a disgusting jinxed creature from the beginning..? They could curse him, abuse him, murder him all they want….as long as they didn't hate his Master, as long as they hoped for his Master again…

Nothing's wrong with their hatred….nothing's wrong with this world, this life….it's just what he deserve for having a little part of his Master's life, a little of his affection and warmth…and gentle smiles….a little of his soft caress and his tender voice calling his name…..

…everyday…..

Every single day since he hatched to that beautiful face…..to those warm embrace…

Somehow his body couldn't remember the warmth of those hands anymore, his mind couldn't see the bright smiles used to be illuminating his days anymore… he couldn't remember the feeling of being the beloved-one anymore….

A drip of freezing tear fell from the sky….followed by another one...and another.

The condemning circle broke away eventually under the heavy freezing rain, leaving only the pile of dirty and bleeding beast alone on the street still facing the house which door had closed. He slowly, jerkily, lifted his dirty bleeding face up; letting the sharp fall washed it all away from his face…the filth, and blood, and feelings. His skin turned whiter than a human's….

That day a 6-year old child died alone on the street, buried in filth and ruins and rain, but it was a mere usual happenstances in that city. No one cared to even listen his dying heart stopped…

No one's there…..

---------------

He washed himself in the freezing lake in the mountain, not minding the poison that was in the water, nor the cold winter air freezing his wet robe and hair into ice. He didn't even feel the cold anymore.

A great hawk watched him from a frozen branch, he didn't even care a glance at the bird; its knowing eyes felt penetrating his grave-mask, snapping a branch or two with its long lizard-tail. He ignored the bird anyway…

Landed on the Tower's landing silently he entered the room, finding that his Master was sleeping with his back facing the door and him; that meant he had had enough strength to move his body. That's good, a voice in his head stated; then he realized the dried leafs scattered on the bed next to his pillow. He glanced at the table and not finding the scraps of foods he put there that morning. Something shaded a rock in his chest, but he couldn't distinct it as a feeling. Walking to the bed, he knelt down and letting the smell of his Master's filled his air; it felt like lives passed since he inhaled such a fragrant smell.

Brushing his air with his palm the beast checked his Master's condition. His fever had lowered a little; he was exhausted just from the very short walk to the table and eating the small amount of those edible roots and twigs. He smiled at the thought that his Master ate them anyway.

A soft moan heard, and his Master stirred to wake. His face contorted in disturbance, a long sigh; then one ice-blue eye fluttered open.

…….."Bland…" he whispered without a sound, a great relief downed in his eye and face.

"…Master.." the beast acknowledged softly with a gentle voice.

The almost closed ice-blue eye opened widely together with its pair, he didn't recognize the voice coming out from his beastling's mouth, nor the tone of that voice acknowledging him; it was still the same voice and the same tone, but it's not his beastling's…. That day his fevered sleep haunted by a nightmare, that somewhere when he's asleep on a high window-ledge his little cheerful beastling was butchered on the streets far bellow him, and people walked on his dead body as if it was nothing of value; his blood-red vacant dead eye stared at him between those people's feet, a name left unsaid in his stiff lips calling him. He knew it wasn't only a dream….

He pushed a trembling hand up to touch the beast's face, his bent body looming over him looked like a cold dead tree to him; "…you alright….?"

The beast smiled, "Shouldn't I be the one asking that question, Master…?" his smile was liquid and tender, as if a reflection on a still water that would break into tears when he touched his face; so he refrained himself and let his weak arm fell down to the bed again.

"…it was good.." he turned his face and closed his eyes, not wanting to see his failure condemning him on his beastling's face with a smile.

"What was, Master..?" the gentle voice asked.

"…that root and what-else…."

"I'll get you something better tomorrow, Master… Do you want to drink the fever-medicine now, Master?"

….like a doll, a trained nice-behaving doll talking pleasantries and smiles…

"No, Bland…let me sleep.."

"…yes, Master….."

And even though he'd shooed him away, sleep denied him despite his wracked body punishing him with pains and fatigue. He'd failed his little beastling; he should have pulled him instead of letting him go….at the time it felt like a noble thing to do, freeing him of their ties; he thought his beastling would fly away from his damned life freely into the blue bright sky, but he'd forgotten that the sky outside was murky and cold. He'd released him to a slaughter-ground alone….and he's not even conscious to see it happening from the higher-view.

….he's a failure even as a human to a beast……

"…Master, ….'something hurting..?" a soft whisper heard from a blurry black above him, he averted his opened eye from that shadow.

"….nothing…" he mouthed; then there was the familiar warmth of a black velvet robe covered his body again on top of the thin blanket. A little rustling sound; and he felt cool wet cloth wiping his shirtless back where the hot crisscrossing lines burning fire in his flesh; he jerked at the first touch, but soon found it like heavenly caress. Sighing, he closed his eye; biting his lower lips while his hand clawed at the pillow.

"…enough…get in bed, Bland..!"

There was a long pause answering him from behind his back, no sound, no movement; somewhere in his mind a voice whispered that he was just waking up from a dream where his beastling came back to him and when it's not a dream anymore his beastling had actually never come back.

"….Bland,…don't make me repeat myself…." He mumbled; knowing that the voice spoke the truth, that his beastling had died somewhere he couldn't reach. If only he could pull him back into his arms again….was it too late now…?

A silent creak answered his haunted mind behind him, then a smaller warm body pressed to his back gently outside the cocoon of the covers; a smaller arm embraced him, "…warm enough, Master..?" the voice sounded like a trained one, without other feelings besides secretly enduring. He jerked open his balled hand gripping the pillow as he couldn't find enough strength to hit the mattress. Since when did his Bland have to endure him…?!

"No..!" he squirmed to get away from his beast's arm; his beast didn't move, only staring him with his alien eyes. "…help me sit…!" The beast did as he was told, like a trained doll; then sat back on the edge of the bed waiting for the next order from his Master after he's done catching his breath. A little pull made him rearrange the pooled robe behind his Master's slumped figure leaning to the cold wall to cover his shoulders, he stilled as his Master's eyes burnt at his with that little action, a flash of something bright in his ice-blue eyes. He blinked once, and sat back putting his hands on his own laps; waiting. The light in his Master's eyes dimmed again.

"Come here…!" came the order, his master opened up his arms and the space between his legs. He didn't move; something's not moving inside him.

"Bland...!" his Master's voice had an edge in it; he still didn't move, staring at his demanding eyes and not feeling anything.

"…Why not?" there's a bitter tone in his gentle voice, "Don't deny my wish, Bland..!" it sounded like a plea than an order.

It's true, he's a beast and he shouldn't deny his Master's wish, the beast-rules printed in his mind stated; so he moved on four and sat between his Master's legs, not moving as his larger hands pulled his body to lean on his feverish chest. "….how old are you now…?"

There was a blink from the long white eyelashes brushing his left shoulder, "..six winters"

"And how old am I…?"

A pause, another blinked; "….something…like twenty winters….." came the hesitant answer.

That brought a reflexive chuckle from his Master, "….something-like-twenty…what number is that..?"

The beast stared his Master's relaxed face above his, but the smile only lasted for an instant; he blinked dismissing the thought before it formed in his beast-mind. Even though his Master's knowing-eyes seemed to catch it happening, Master always had that knowing-stare in his eyes, his mind stated.

"In that case, I'm older than you, am I not…?" his whisper became steady with the rhythm of his eased breath and beating heart. "No matter how old you become, how big your body would be…I'd still be older than you, wouldn't I..?"

He didn't know what this conversation got to do with him being a beast and his Master being his Master; he blinked. "Yes, Master…"

"Then…." The larger hand stroking the back of his head felt nice, feeling his hair slid between the fingers. "It's alright to cling to me…!" The hand pressed his head to rest on the firm shoulder; he'd known that as a fact and he didn't need anyone to say it with words, he thought.

"Yes, Master…"

The hand stroking his head paused for a second; it seemed that his answer wasn't satisfactory enough.

"So…..it's alright to make me responsible for your life..!"

"Yes, Master.." the image of a human-child balled in a dark and cold leeway eating a dead rat replayed in his mind, he had more than that, he didn't have the right to ask for more.

"Then, don't leave me, Bland..!" the firm words weren't a request.

"Ye--" and the larger hand pushed his face to the shoulder firmly, not allowing him to answer with that distant tone.

"Don't leave me, Bland..!" the other hand pulled his body flat to his Master's body from behind his waist. He blinked.

"Don't leave me…!" It's confusing now; he's there so why was his Master so desperate saying it..?

"Don't leave me…don't leave me…don't you dare leave me, Bland..!!"

His red-eyes glanced at the sides fast, it's not that it was suffocating, he could push his hands to break away from those weak hands; so he could say his answer….wasn't he answering his Master all along…?

"Mm-hmm…?" he called his Master not understanding why he wasn't allowed to speak.

"Don't leave me…even if it's painful, and hard to bear; you're not allowed to leave me, Bland..!"

He stilled, something inside him clicked, and it felt hurting.

"Even if I told you to go, and I'm dead…don't leave me..!!"

Something cold biting inside his chest, it was fear; he didn't want to hear more and tried to push his Master's body although he realized that he couldn't. "…ngggh…?" he moaned, asking if he could break away from his Master's embrace.

"Even if I don't need you anymore, and I kill you…don't ever leave me…!!"

He widened his red-eyes, something's breaking inside him; closing his hot eyelids slowly as his body slumped like wet cloth onto his Master's hot body, he sobbed. If he's really allowed to stay at his Master's side, even if he had no form anymore…no voice to call him, and no shape to be seen….

…..is that alright, Master…?

"Don't leave, Bland…you're mine..!" his Master's whisper sounded like he was smiling out a flow of tears.

"….yes, Master….." he sniffled a wet sob, feeling something ready to explode inside his throat and it's hurting so much. His Master was kissing his tearful closed eye, and it felt burning; he let out a whimper and surprised at the childish sound coming out of his mouth.

"It's alright….!" His Master whispered, kissing his temple and all over his face he could reach; he tried to push him away but his small hands seemingly wanted to pull him instead, and in the confusion of sobs and tears and kisses and entangling hands he decided that it was too much so he threw himself onto his Master's shoulder and desperately cling to him just like he's allowed to.

"It's alright, Bland…!" he embraced his quivering beast again, relieved that his little beastling was still there and he made it in time before he totally loose him to the world.

"…Master!!"

"….who hurt you..?" That silent question was too much and without him realizing he was crying brokenly, howling broken words that he himself couldn't recognize the meaning, clawing and pulling at the black robe covering his Master's shoulders, wanting to have all of him for himself.

"I'm here, Bland…it's alright..!" his Master's gentle voice repeating those words felt painful, and he cried out even more.

---------------

The birds chirped outside on the landing and the windows ledge, cocking their heads with their curious eyes staring into the peaceful room. Somewhere in the middle of the night the atmosphere inside had turned brighter like a new flowering season; they wondered why they wanted to be called into that new season.

A soft long moan broke the birds' curiosity about the room's air, and they stared at the beast stirring to wake on the bed.

One, then another one of those red-eyes fluttered open; the birds watched the face scrunched in the bright morning light pleasantly, and they liked it. Some of them greeted the beast with their chirps; and when that face turned his face at them and smiled, they flapped their wings happily.

A pleasant weight leaned on his left shoulder, and his left hand absentmindedly stroked the soft long hair he could reach behind the warm body. It took him quite some time before he realized that he'd made his Master's recuperating body to sleep sitting against the cold wall the whole night, embracing him and whispering words of comfort. The realization crashed down with a surprise, even though he only jerked in fear of disturbing his Master's sleep, but the birds broke away from that curious circle and flew into the winds.

He stared wide eyed with a bright flushed face at the sleeping face next to his own, their faces were so close that when he moved their cheeks brushed. Feeling a little floating, he slowly set his Master's body to lie down on the bed; gave his legs some massage in case they'd cramped, and his long arms after that. Some broken red scars on his Master's white wrist made him stunned; he blinked a few times, adjusting his mind to remember what happened last night.

…..while saying words of comfort which seemingly only baited his hysterical cry more, his Master kissed all over his face, and he actually kissed his mouth but he didn't realized it at first about the blood swallowed in his mouth until his Master repeated that action again after he sucked more of his blood from his wrist and kiss-transferred it again…

His flushed face exploded red smoke; "…uh….wahh…!" he covered his face with the back of his hands in turns, feeling like wanted to erase his face because of shame.

A soft chuckle from the bed's occupant, even though he didn't see it himself, made him realized that his Master's was awake and knowing his mind. He dove to the mattress hiding his head between his balled body and bent legs and enfolding arms; if there's a hole he'd want to crawl in it now.

"….'morning, Bland…" his Master's voice sounded content; and he felt giddy hearing it.

"….good morning, Master….." he greeted shyly with a smile, still hiding his face from his Master's gentle smile.

"Feel better now..?"

"….---shouldn't I be the one asking that, Master…?" he protested, but smiling nonetheless, pulled his head out of his makeshift hiding-hole; and he squirmed when his Master's hand cupped his face and stroked his cheek and temple with his long fingers, but didn't pull away. The visible shining specks on his red skin had gone completely, he knew those physical wounds could heal almost immediately, but his beast's heart was not as resilient. He kissed the smaller hand and fingers repeatedly, enjoying his beast's squirms with his flushed face and trying to act usual while it's obviously showed on his face and his body language. He felt becoming a little evil and chuckled to his fidgeting fingers.

……"…Master, I need to find you something to eat…!" the beast tried to pull his hand but didn't really mean it; that brought another smile from his Master, and he tried to avert his eyes from that dazzling face.

"Masteer…I'm going to do my task, don't disturb me..!" he complained.

He chuckled and let his beast's hand go, watching him prepared the washcloth with a bowl of tap water and warm water in the wooden mug, and set them on the chair next to his pillow. His beast put the black robe on, and fast stole a peck on the back of his right hand; "…I love you, Master..!"

"Love you too, Bland…" his Master answered gripping the end of the robe and let it slip from between his fingers. The beast giggled running out, his heart lifted to the ninth clouds; even though he knew that a beast's love and a Master's love could never be the same.

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…..when it's chopped down into some shorter pieces, you'd thought that you have some more room to write; so it ended up getting (even more) longer than saru first intended….or the (…let's see…) third time saru intended…. Haa hahahahaaaa…

Saru got drowned a little in the Bland's part, and typed it while crying (most people didn't belief saru when they're told that saru could get carried away in the story n thus crying out loud while drawing the comics; but they believed it when saru tip them off about the snot n what-else dripping onto the -wrinkled- comic-sheet….why is that?!) ……..Sister-snake leered with a disgusted face when she found saru crying-n-typing this part; perhaps she really minded whether saru typed the keyboard with slimy fingers before she'd use it…! n"n;