Snow looked at the small stream running fast at his feet and couldn’t stop staring. The sound of the water as it jumped over small pebbles and stones was like music to his ears, the air smelling even fresher there. It didn’t feel as hot near the water and the way it glistened and glowed under the sunlight was simply magical.

The sound of splashing captured his attention and when he looked up MenTar had already taken off his boots, pulled his pants up and entered the fresh stream, the running water reaching his knees. Smiling happily he bent forward and started filling the flasks, tossing them back to the patch of green grass right beside him once they were full.

“What are you doing, standing there? Take off your boots! The water feels great!”

Snow looked at his feet, at his beautiful leather boots the likes he had never dreamed he’d ever wear, and bent forward to unlace them, carefully placing them where they wouldn’t get wet. With a second thought he also took off his cloak, folding it neatly and leaving it beside his boots. The grass beneath his bare-feet tickled him and, following MenTar’s example, he folded his pants up above his knees, but ended up just standing there.

“Come on in. The water won’t bite!” MenTar insisted and Snow took a step forward, dipping his toes in the stream. The cold water made him shiver but it felt so amazingly good that he didn’t stop walking until he was as knee-deep as MenTar. “It’s nice, right?”

He nodded, a small smile plastered on his face as he flexed his toes, feeling the cold water rush by his legs. A few tinny silvery fish stopped by his ankles, probably curious about the strange thing that had suddenly appeared in their underwater world. Some even nibbled his skin making him chuckle.

“Why are you always crying?” MenTar asked, watching him wipe his eyes for the second time, and Snow raised his head, blinking under the sunlight.

For an instance he almost decided to ignore his question, but then MenTar kept smiling at him with that open smile, his green eyes glistening like gemstones touched by the light, and somehow he didn’t want to be the one to dampen his obvious good mood.

“Too bright …” he simply whispered, lowering his head again to look at the water, and MenTar laughed happily, resuming his task of filling flasks.

“Wow! I really feel extremely honored right now! To think that you would actually answer me,” he joked and Snow peered suspiciously at him. “You still talk to low, though. We’re like opposites, you and I. I’m too loud! You’re too quiet!”

Snow ignored him, more interested in watching the small fish swimming around his feet.

A sudden splash of cold water caught him so off guard that he gasped before he immediately shut his mouth, pressing his lips together, afraid he might emit a louder sound. Laughter filled his ears and more water hit him, wetting his face and clothes.

“Just look at that expression! That was priceless!” MenTar kept laughing and Snow dried his face on his sleeve. His clothes were all wet now, his face dripping water. MenTar, however, didn’t seem the least bit worried. Climbing onto the stream bank he offered him a hand to help him up. “Let’s go or our Calzai will eat me alive for taking too long.”

Snow reluctantly accepted his help and MenTar easily pulled him to dry land.

After he’d put his boots and cloak back on, MenTar shoved a few of the full flasks into his arms, and happily begun to make his way back, humming a song and picking leaves and branches as he went.

Snow followed him in silence. That was a very strange man, he concluded watching him pick up some wild berries and filling his mouth with them.

“Want some? They’re really sweet.” Snow shook his had and MenTar shrugged, shoving the rest of them into his own mouth before resuming walking. “For a kid your age you’re just too serious, Snow!” he criticized, still chewing berries. “You’re just like our Calzai, always with that surly face. And it’s such a waste too. I’m sure he’d have rivers of women throwing themselves at his feet if he would only smile from time to time,” he sighed.

Snow wondered back and forth if he should ask. And what if he did? What harm could it do? There were only the two of them there, anyway. And unlike the monster, or even ZenTar, MenTar looked like he wouldn’t mind answering some questions.

“What’s a … Calzai …?” he whispered, certain that, by the way they used that word, it wasn’t a name, and MenTar stopped to look back at him with an incredulous expression.

“You don’t know?” Snow shook his head but he still looked doubtful. “Hum, I guess you could translate it as a General in the common language,” he explained, even though he didn’t sound all that certain. “In any case, Calzai is the title granted to those authorized by the Empire to lead large armies into battle. And they are normally tasked with defending the land and keeping the peace,” he went on, obviously proud at how easy his explanation sounded. “So I guess you could say that it is the title of a very important person.”

Snow pondered on his answer but MenTar went on, obviously happy that he’d found someone interested in hearing him chatter.

“You know, that’s why we went to that Fortress in the first place. There were rumors that illicit activities were taking place over there. That some lording had taken over the Fortress and that he was running a salve trading business from there. They would kidnap people from other Provinces and sell them to be shipped to other underground slave markets. Since buying, selling or keeping slaves is forbidden in most Provinces, our Calzai was tasked to go there and put an end to it. They even had the nerve to kidnap some of Demon Clan’s members, including one of their princes at that. The El’Dur was furious. No one wants to offend the Demon Clan,” he added and Snow recalled the white-haired man with delicate features that had visited his bedroom. “So yeah! We went there and put an end to it, and that’s that. It’s not like I want to brag, but this Calzai is the strongest of them all!”

So his monster was a General, he thought. He fought for the Empire. He killed for the Empire. No wonder he was constantly surrounded by that black force. How many lives had he taken …? A shiver ran down his spine.

“So … is Nox his name …?” he decided to ask and MenTar looked doubtful again.

“Hum … you could say so … You really don’t know anything, do you?” he asked, looking back again, and sighed at the blank expression on Snow’s face. “Nox is the name of a Province, you know? Like Wei, or Won, or our Zai. Because he governs the Nox Province he gets to be called Nox as well. But others, even at the Palace, call him Nox ZaiWin, or Calzai ZaiWin, or even Lun Calzai. Only brother calls him Nox back and forth, which is kind of disrespectful, taking into account their different stands. But they’ve always been like that, so no one pays attention to it anymore.”

Snow frowned at the amount of strange names. So Calzai was a title as he had suspected. And Nox was the name of the Province he ruled over. So ZaiWin was his name?

“Lun …?” he asked, since that was the only word he still couldn’t understand, and MenTar sighed.

“I’ve told you that there are several Calzai, right? There should be thirteen, actually, one for each Province, but there are currently four Provinces that have no Governor or Calzai. In anyway, I guess there was a need to know which Calzai people were talking about, and so colors were attached to each Province. Lun means black. The Calzai from our Zai Province, for example, is called Ei, meaning gray, and so on. Do you understand?”

Snow nodded, following him as they made their way to where the others awaited them.

So MenTar, and obviously LaoTar and ZenTar were from a different Province than the monster’s, which made sense, taking into account what LaoTar had said about having been lent.

Above all it was clear in his mind that the monster that had captured him, the one called Nox ZaiWin, even though he looked so young, was actually a very important person. And it was also very clear that, no matter how important he might be, since he belonged to Empire’s Army, he would always have to obey those above him, which meant there was no way he would be safe by his side. In any case he’d made perfectly clear that he wanted to get rid of him. Why he hadn’t done so so far was what he still couldn’t understand.

“Finally!” ZenTar barked the instant they reached their temporary camp. “How long does it take to fill half-a-dozen flasks?”

“They’re more like a dozen! And it’s not like we’re in a hurry, right? You barely started making preparations for our meal,” MenTar pointed out, looking at the small fire over which three fat rabbits slowly roasted, and ZenTar whacked him on the back of the head, making him complain so loudly that the other two men turned to look at him. And yet they were smiling, Snow noticed, as if they were having fun. The only one that sounded truly angry was ZenTar.

“Put those down and go change your clothes.”

Snow followed the sound of that low voice and looked up with a startle, faced with those cold-blue eyes. The black monster was standing right beside him and so he didn’t waste time and quickly obeyed.

Even though he was always carefully monitoring everyone around him, looking for signs that someone might want to grab him and bind him, and even though the monster was by far the scariest of them all, Snow always seemed to forget about his presence, he chastised himself as he quickly rumbled through his small bag.

ZenTar smacked his brother over the head again.

“Hey! What did I do now?”

“How come I have such a dumb brother!! Just go and die once and for all! See if I care!”

MenTar crossed his arms with a pout but then his green eyes captured Snow’s image as he hugged his dry change of clothes, silently walking away.

“Hey, Snow! Want me to go with you?” The hard tweezers that squeezed his ear, pulling him down, made him cringe in pain. “Ouch, ouch, ouch!! Let go already!”

“Sit down and shut your mouth! You must really have a death wish that I don’t know about!” ZenTar grumbled, still squeezing his brother’s ear, and Snow released a small sigh of relief. A very short-lived relief.

“Move.”

He flinched, squeezing his clothes, wishing he could tell the monster that he’d be fine of his own, but he quickly gave up, silently following his command, making his way towards the small patch of trees growing by the road. The dark monster followed him in silence.

It wasn’t as if they hadn’t seen him naked before, he thought, feeling increasingly depressed. He’d been naked inside that horrible box. And he’d been naked throughout most of the following days, until his injuries healed enough allowing him to withstand the touch of fabric. And, of course, even though he wasn’t currently tied up, he had no illusions regarding his position. With or without the ropes he was still a prisoner.

Reaching the trees he took of his cloak and carefully undressed his wet tunic. He had to preserve it as much as possible, he told himself, folding it neatly. Maybe if he placed it near the fire it would dry before they had to leave again.

The touch of something warm against his bare back sent a chill running down his spine and he stumbled forward, quickly turning around in a mix of shock and fear.

“Let me see.”

Snow frowned and took another step back, ready to fight for his life if needed be.

“You damn brat! You think your scrawny body holds any interest to me? Let me check your wounds!”

Snow’s frown deepened even more.

“Either you get your ass back here or I’ll knock you out and do as I please! Your choice!”

Clearly angry and obviously suspicious, Snow walked up to him again and turned around so he could see his back.

“Stupid brat! When are you going to get it through your thick head that if I wanted to harm you I would have done so already?”

Ah! As if that meant anything, Snow thought in his head. As if people didn’t change their minds all the time, didn’t betray their own words at every corner! That was a lesson he’d learned a very long time ago!

Warm fingers touched his back again, sending unpleasant shivers down his spine, and it was all he could do to just stand there and bear with it without moving. From time to time the places he pressed ached, making him involuntary contract his muscles, but he still tried and did his best to stand still and not utter a single sound.

“Though I see that they still hurt, they’re mostly healed on the surface,” the monster informed him. But if that was supposed to bring him some sort of relief that horrible monster couldn’t have been more wrong.

So what if those were almost healed? He’d healed similar wounds so many times before that he’d lost count a long time ago. And in all those times healing only meant that the time when he’d be hurt again only grew closer.