Blizzards...
They were cold and unending.
They came with a roar and a howl, turning a lush green landscape into an icy tundra...
They were dangerous...
Yet, for the little girl, they held a sense of awe that captivated her to no end.
"Mom! Mom! Look, it's snowing outside!"
The little girl's voice was joyous, her gaze towards the window of the cottage she and her mother lived in. Nestled between the forests and the mountains, miles from the nearest village, a place where they could be together and live quietly. Water was taken from the river running a minute's walk away, and the food was taken from the deer and wolves that ventured too close to their abode.
"Wow..."
A breathless whisper left her lips, her eyes wide as she pointed outside to the snow that fell differently than the ones before it. Her eyes never left the strange view outside their window, gray clouds that felt heavier than yesterday's and left a tingle in her spine, like a buzz of electricity. Her eyes were glued to the landscape that gave her such a feeling, even as her mother's soft voice filled the air.
"It's Isvan, love. It's always snowing."
"Yeah, Mom, but this one feels different!"
Came the little girl's enthusiastic reply; her gaze finally pulled from the window as she turned back to her mother. Who walked from her place on the couch and towards the window, tilting her head in surprise before she glanced at her daughter.
"It's a blizzard, love. The prickly feeling you're getting is because of our magic. A mage can always tell when their element is near, and blizzards bring a lot of ice with them..."
The mother's words trailed, and her eyes were tinted with worry as she gave a soft glance towards her daughter, discreetly checking over her without her knowledge. Watching her daughter's curious eyes trail the harsher winds that kicked up a snow cloud on the mountaintops and stole a few shards from the icy river near their cottage.
"Blizzards must be powerful then..." Was her daughter's breathless whisper, prompting a slight hum in agreement from her mother, "They are."
The two stayed there, watching the growing storm, before the daughter asked with child-like innocence, "Are you stronger than a blizzard, Mom?"
The mother took a second to process the daughter's words, laughing as she gave her daughter a playful smile, "I don't know... maybe on a good day."
The daughter gawked at the non-answer, pouting as the mother took her away from the window and plopped her on the couch, "I'll be back, love; I just need to make sure we have enough food and firewood in the cellar."
"We don't need fire though!"
"It never hurts to be cautious." Was the mother's quick response, earning a huff from her daughter that she dutifully ignored, as hard as it may be, and walked towards the door. Her steps faltered as she caught her daughter's disgruntled mumbles, "I think you'd beat a blizzard no problem..."
The mother gave a soft smile, shaking her head fondly as she turned to the door to leave, calling over her shoulder before she stepped into the harsh winter of Isvan that she had grown to love, "I'll be back in a minute, Ultear."
Ultear glanced over to her mother, about to answer before she heard her name called again.
"Ultear!"
Confusion turned to groggy understanding as the image of the cabin and her mother faded, her peaceful dream dying as she blinked the memories out of her eyes. Her mother's soft voice replaced the irritatingly loud voice of the only other person in the world who dared to use her actual name.
"Ultear! Ultear! Wake up!"
Ultear considered herself logical, and logically, she knew she couldn't kill 17...
"Ultear!"
That didn't mean she couldn't consider it, though.
How important is time magic really...
Ultear had to think long and hard about that, but ultimately, her logical side won out. The fact that 17 stopped yelling and started conversing with his shadow helped, too...
Although, it didn't curb her annoyance at being woken up before her shift was supposed to start.
"Sho, what should I do? She isn't waking up... Throw water on her? You like me being alive, right? There's no way... No, I don't care if it would be funny; me dying afterward is less funny..."
Ultear took a deep breath to calm herself before turning her head from the snow bed she had crafted for herself by the wall. Her eyes narrowed on 17, standing near the fire with his shadow on the wall next to him, making small movements with its head that she didn't understand, but 17 could tell what they meant.
"We're under a snowy mountain, Sho. Where are we going to run to..."
Seventeen's words trailed as his attention flicked away from the wall, and he met her narrowed gaze. Probably realizing she wasn't in the best mood once she hissed with all the venom her sleep-deprived mind had to offer, "What!?"
Ultear wasn't sure if it was a credit to Seventeen's confidence or stupidity that he shrugged off the threat laced in her voice. His eyes were calm as he pointed to the cave's depths opposite the snowed entrance and spoke with total seriousness.
"Number 8's gone."
Number 8 liked the caverns more than he thought he would. They were laced with ice crystals; the luminescent glow from the magic-laced rocks lit up the walls. The frozen faint traces of cold wind guided him through the twists and turns as he ventured further, losing track of his elevation as he walked...
He walked and ignored the part of him that told him to turn back before 17 or 32 woke up.
I should have another hour or two...
Number 8 had left as soon as 17 fell asleep, his 'shift' for the night only a couple hours before 32 would wake up to take his place. The three took turns staying awake to keep the fire going and warn the others if something went wrong...
It was a sign of trust between the three of them, however forced or miniscule it may be, and he had to bury the guilt he felt from breaking it.
It's OK... they won't even know I'm gone.
It wasn't like Number 8 was trying to worry them; he just needed some time alone. He wasn't used to being around other people, or at least not always. The blizzard had constantly forced him to be around 17 and 32, which was draining...
It had been years since he had slept where another human being could watch his every move, and he had to fight every night to fall asleep. To allow himself to relax even while a part of his brain told him he would wake up in the white-walled prison. He had to fight the part of him that learned never to trust, never to latch on to anything, and never to dream, and it was...
Tiring.
How were they able to adjust so quickly...
It wasn't like he was the only one in the lab; those two had been there for years. He could understand 32's ability to let her guard down because she was strong enough to defend herself, even if she was attacked in her sleep.
It made her cold yet not uncaring words easier to handle. She bluntly answered his questions when they were serious, and she lied when they weren't. Giving him false explanations that may have felt cruel to some but made him feel normal...
Like she knew he was still adjusting and wouldn't appreciate her pulling her punches in an act to 'spare' his feelings.
Those were easier to understand because she was stronger than he was, and anything she could spare a few acts of barbed kindness for someone weaker than her.
That didn't apply to 17, though.
Seventeen was by no means strong, and he wasn't stupid either. Number 8 could have killed 17 when it was his turn to keep watch, and 17 was okay with that for some reason. He didn't even think twice about going to sleep after giving Number 8 his shift like he wasn't leaving himself vulnerable to an attack...
It was odd, and the fact that he didn't seem hesitant at all to speak with Number 8 was stranger. All 17 did was talk; even if Number 8 didn't answer, he still tried to get a reaction out of him. Still prompting him with guesses of the outside world that inevitably hooked Number 8 and made up stories of random things that would seem like gibberish to others but were worth gold to Number 8...
Because he didn't know the world, not entirely, 17 seemed to know that.
So, seventeen kept doing strange things, explaining the world one made-up story at a time. Never once showing even the slightest bit of wariness towards Number 8, even giving Number 8 some of their dwindling rations because he 'looked hungry.'
He did the same thing back in the lab, too. When he gave me the map...
Number 8 didn't get it; it was almost like 17 trusted him, even if he didn't remember him...
Which may have been for the best since Number 8 wasn't exactly gentle during their spars.
I don't understand him... I don't understand anything...
Number 8 walked through the caverns and jumped through the same mental hurdles he had gone through since the lab blew up. He cursed 32 for being weird, then 17 for being weirder, berating himself for not knowing why they were strange until it all came to the same conclusion that it always reached...
The same thought that kept him up at night.
I wish Seven were here...
Seven could have explained it to him...
She would have eased his irrational fears of betrayal. If not with her words, then just with her presence, because she had always...
She had always been stronger than him.
She had always...
She had always been there.
Then she was gone.
Just like the lab.
The lab was gone...
He was still having a hard time processing that.
Everything's gone...
The lab was gone, the scientists were gone, the numbers... other numbers. They were gone...
That was reality.
They aren't coming back...
All those memories, the good and the bad were just that. Memories. They weren't his present or his future; they were his past...
He had to leave them there, or he'd never get to enjoy the life he now had...
The life Seven always wanted him to have.
I need to move on...
It would be challenging and take time, but he had to try at least. He owed it to Seven...
He owed it to the other numbers that were less lucky than he was.
I'll start slow...
He could start with small things, like trusting 32 and 17 not to kill him in his sleep.
He could learn to accept the offers of care from 17 as just that, not bribes or schemes like his paranoia had been making them out to be. He could learn how to live; he just had to take it one step at a time...
He just had to learn...
He figured that meant asking questions...
One in particular was bugging him for a while now.
Why does 17 keep calling 32, Ultear...
Number 8 could guess that 'Ultear' was Thirty-two's name, but he still wanted to know why 17 called her that. Especially since 32... or Ultear, still called him 17. It had been bugging him since the lab blew up, and he was too caught up in his thoughts to ask about it.
I'll ask them when I get back...
Number 8 had wandered farther than he had meant to, ending up in a vast cavern high up in the mountainside. A hole directly above the cave's center showed the clouds and roaring winds. The snow underneath it piled up so high that it was only a few feet away from plugging the window into the sky.
I should start heading back now.
Number 8 walked over to the snow pile, gazing over it with cold eyes before sighing. He turned around to follow the thin, near-invisible thread he had left behind him to mark the path. Number 8 strolled, tracing his steps, undeterred even as he heard shuffling from behind him.
"Women... food..."
Number 8 listened calmly to the low rumbles and mutters of what he quickly discerned to be a Vulcan, the shadow of the beast falling over him as it lumbered over from the pile, its mumbles for 'women' and 'food' filling the cave.
At least I won't have to make an excuse if they wake up...
Number 8 came to a slow stop before he turned around to look up at the 8-foot gorilla with white fur, black patches of calloused skin, and muscles bulging with the power to kill him in a single swing...
Not like it would get the chance to use them.
I'll say I went looking for food.
"I can't believe you lost Number 8."
"I didn't lose him."
Vera retorted immediately, refusing to feel guilty about Number 8 running off when Vera was supposed to be sleeping...
Emphasis on supposed to be.
I thought he was using the bathroom or something... how was I supposed to know he just wouldn't come back?
Vera had tried to drift off to sleep but eventually just settled with closing his eyes and leaving his breath even. He heard Number 8 shuffle around and disappeared into the cave, but he thought it would only be for a few minutes...
A small nap, and probably an hour later, still no sign of 8.
Of course, it had to happen when I gave him a watch... how far did he go anyway?
They had been walking for twenty minutes, following the thin thread that must have been 8's marker home. Ultear and Vera wandered the icy caverns while Sho went ahead to scout for any dangers or signs of Number 8.
They walked like that for a while longer, the two side by side in silence. Ultear was obviously lost in her head, and Vera knew better than to try and interrupt her. A generosity that was for naught since Ultear broke the silence, "What's with you and Number 8?"
Vera almost missed a step, his eyes widening in surprise before they settled; a look of nonchalance forcibly planted on his face as he shrugged, "What do you mean, Ultear? Is this about the food I gave him yesterday because I promise it wasn't because you undercooked it-"
"Stop trying to dodge the question 17. You know what I'm talking about."
Ultear's expression fell into one of cold seriousness, her eyes demanding an explanation as to why Seventeen appeared to trust Number 8 so much...
"Why did you freeze back at the lab... when you first saw him and when he used magic..."
As well as why he seemed to recognize Number 8 back in the lab.
"You get your memories back or something?"
Ultear watched as Seventeen stiffened at her question, his eyes narrowing at her before he muttered, "No... they're still gone..."
Ultear didn't even bother to hide her irritation at his answer, "Then why-"
"Does it matter?"
Seventeen's blunt remark caught Ultear off guard, the cold expression from the lab drifting into his face as he seemed to look through her...
Like he was skimming through the memories he didn't have anymore.
"What about you, Ultear?"
Ultear paused as ice sunk into Seventeen's words, a cold expression settling onto his face that she didn't expect. One matched by comments that made it clear that he wouldn't discuss this further...
"Weren't you the one who wanted to leave him behind?"
At least not without getting something in return.
"What changed?"
Seventeen's words hung into the air, the unsaid challenge laid out as his dead eyes held Ultear's without wavering. The unsaid notion that maybe Ultear was getting attached to Number 8, the little boy who had even less than she had, came to her mind.
I'm not getting attached... I pity him...
Her fists clenched as the unsaid accusation floated in her head that she was getting too invested in things that didn't matter...
I don't care about what 17 does... I was curious...
The unsaid idea was written in bold in her brain, that maybe she wasn't as serious about her mission as she claimed to be. That she shouldn't be bothering with something as mundane as whatever 17 was hiding and should only focus on one thing...
I don't care about either of them...
She only cared about one thing.
I'm using them... that's all.
Ultear unclenched her fists; her head tilted with as dead a gaze as 17 was sporting. Her breath came in a final cold puff before she calmed her magic. The temperature fell back to its normal state as she spoke in a bland tone, "Nothing..."
Ultear turned to follow the trail, uncaring whether 17 was behind her.
"Nothing changed."
"I didn't think this through..."
Number 8 looked down at the Vulcan, severed through the torso in a cut that had ended its life in an instant. The battle was over instantly, leaving behind a bloody painting across the snow and a clean cut through the top half of the snow mound that matched the Vulcan's. The entire ordeal took less energy than Number 8 had thought it would...
Mainly since he had fought these things before, and they usually didn't go down in a single hit.
Well... I am stronger now than the last time I fought them...
The fact that he finally got to eat something that wasn't cold and served in a bowl probably helped, too. The wolf that Ultear had caught was the most filling meal he'd ever had; it would make sense for his magic to be a little more potent now that he wasn't settling above the threshold of starvation.
I still have to figure out how to get him back, though...
Number 8 scowled as he looked at the carcass he had to carry back to the base. The entire thing probably weighed over 200 pounds, much more than Number 8 could comfortably carry...
Even with the extra food he had gotten recently.
Great...
Number 8 sighed, moving his fingers as thin threads left his fingertips. His magic worked flawlessly as it stitched up the cut across the Vulcan's corpse, so it was only one thing he had to carry. The threads then wrapped around the dead beast, bundling it in a spider-like web until the only sign of the Vulcan was a white cocoon. A heavily threaded rope trailed from its end like the reins to a sleigh so Number 8 could pull it without stopping.
There...
It could have been better, but Number 8 could make do...
That or he would leave half of the Vulcan behind and ask Sho to carry the rest of it later.
It had been twenty minutes since their little spat, and Vera was starting to think that Number 8 had climbed the mountain with how far they had been walking. The thread kept going, and Sho hadn't found anything of note...
That left the two of them in an awkward silence where neither were willing to talk.
I hope Sho finds Number 8 so-
'Tug'
Speak of the devil.
Vera hummed as he felt a single tug on his shadow, knowing that it meant that Sho had found Number 8 since that was the code they agreed on earlier—one draw for good news, two for bad, three for unknown.
This system is rough, but it'll have to do for now.
Communication with Sho was complicated; ever since he got his magic, it was easy for Vera to understand what Sho was 'saying.' A sixth sense that allowed Vera to read Sho's intent as long as he could see him...
When he couldn't see Sho, though, it was a lot harder.
"Sho found Number 8."
Vera said to Ultear, prompting a hum in response, the silence carrying over as they made their way through the tunnels. They followed the string and eventually came to a cavern with a hole in the roof and a mound of chaotic snow in the center of the room.
The top half of it was sliced off like a knife was run through it, blood splattered across it that would have had Vera worried for 8's well-being if he didn't see the kid standing off to the side and lugging a cocoon of string behind him. The scene was almost comical since Number 8's blue hair and white winter coat didn't have a speck of blood on them, but the cocoon he was lugging was practically dyed red.
"A little help would be appreciated..."
Number 8's low mutters broke Vera out of his thoughts. Vera felt dread before turning to Ultear, who gave him a bland look in response.
Yeah, I probably deserve this...
Vera sighed, his shoulders slumping as he walked towards Number 8. Vera silently grabbed the threaded rope to pull the cocoon while Ultear strolled back towards the camp. Number 8 and Vera were left alone as they hauled the cocoon back towards base.
"So what's in the cocoon?"
Vera asked as they followed the trail back to the entrance, the cocoon bumping into the occasional stone or ice patch on the way there. Vera's question, meant to settle his curiosity and pass the time, was answered bluntly, courtesy of Number 8.
"Food."
Vera blinked in surprise, looking over to Sho, who just shrugged. A sentiment he ended up sharing since he wasn't really in a place to judge...
Not after what he did back at the lab.
"That's good. We were running low on food."
Vera's sentiments didn't seem to surprise Number 8, who just nodded in response before focusing on the task again. The two put their words on hold as they worked side by side to reach their destination, following the thread and the soft indents in the snow that Ultear had left behind on her trek back.
She's really pissed, huh...
It's not like Vera didn't realize what he said would hurt, but it was a little painful dealing with the repercussions. He had forced Ultear to make an impossible choice, and she had made it...
Now, he had to deal with the fallout.
I don't want her to start acting robotic, though...
Vera had actually enjoyed talking with Ultear once he had established that she wouldn't kill him. She was witty and had a sense of sarcastic humor that managed to survive the labs...
Especially when it came to her little games with Number 8.
"Hey, Number 8, you still think the snow will eat you if you look away from it?"
"Shut up."
Vera laughed as he saw Number 8's eyes twitch in irritation. The last of Ultear's little fibs was that your feet sink into the snow because it's trying to eat you. That little white lie had Number 8 casting wary glances at the snowed-in entrance all night.
"I'm just saying there was a lot of snow back there..."
"..."
"I would understand if you attacked it because you thought it was a threat."
"..."
"...so did you?"
"I hope you get food poisoning."
"With Ultear's cooking, that's pretty likely."
Vera counted it as a win when he saw Number 8's lips twitch upwards, the comfortable atmosphere secured as they trailed towards the campfire. Vera took the comfortable silence in stride as his mind wandered toward the ice mage, that seemed to like all her food cold...
She really does worry about Number 8...
It was subtle, but he could tell in the way she spoke with him. The little jabs that packed no heat and the silent misunderstandings she fostered made him feel normal. Like she would talk to him the same way she talks to Vera...
Or the way she would've talked to Vera if he hadn't spit her growing care back in her face.
I messed up...
Vera shouldn't have taken a jab at Ultear's insecurities. He should've found a different way to get her off his tail, one that wouldn't have her questioning whether every act of kindness was a step away from her goal...
He should've done many things, but he couldn't think of any alternatives at the time...
He just knew he had to get her to stop asking about his connection to number 8.
He couldn't explain that connection without explaining the story...
That wasn't an option.
I can't let her find out about the story.
He only got Ultear to free him because he was useful; the second she learned about the story, that leverage was gone. The story was infinitely more useful than Vera, and Ultear would understand that. She would probably go to any lengths to make him spit out what he knew about the future, then dispose of him when he wasn't valuable anymore. Hell, she would kill him regardless, even if he was helpful in some other way, because the story was more useful when only one person knew how to change it. Why risk letting Vera live and have him change the future in some way she couldn't control? It was easier to eliminate him and that variable altogether.
She'll kill me...
She would torture him for information and then throw him away, and as confident as he was in surviving any torture method Ultear cooked up, he wasn't willing to put it to the test. If Ultear were anything, it was patient; she would figure out a way to break him eventually, and then his death would be assured.
The story is that valuable.
Vera knew that; he understood that the story would be more valuable than his life in the eyes of people like Ultear or the doctor. That's why he wouldn't tell her about it...
I can't tell her about the story.
That's why he wouldn't tell anyone about it.
I can't tell anyone about the story.
Call him paranoid; he didn't care. Anyone could see the story the way Ultear would, as a tool to be coveted, and he wasn't willing to take that chance. He didn't trust anyone enough to tell them about the story and risk giving them an incentive to kill him. Only he and Sho knew about it and would keep it that way for as long as possible, but the problem was he had to explain how he had access to so much information. That meant he couldn't use too much of it until he was in Fiore and had more than one year of solitude to his name. Otherwise, he was bound to mess up and reveal something he had no possible way of knowing.
Like the answer to her question: Why did he trust Number 8?
Well, that was easy...
I'll apologize to her later...
Vera knew he could trust Number 8, not enough to tell him the story but enough to believe in him.
I'll apologize to both of them one day.
Number 8 was one of his favorite characters.