"You aren't going to stop us?" Cyne asked, eyeing the snow crawlers with wary eyes.

"No, you've defeated our captain in fair combat. He grew arrogant and has paid the price. You should leave. The chieftain will not be happy to hear about this," a snow crawler said, picking up Yanshin's severed head. He beckoned for the rest of the snow crawlers to help with the body.

"Let's go," Cyne muttered, wiping the blood off his sword.

"Sounds good," Libra nodded, tossing the pistol back to Cyne.

Cyne and Libra were already halfway back to the city after a few days of hard riding. Coming up on the next way station, Libra insisted they camp for the night despite Cyne's reluctance. The way station was built off the edge of a cliff, half of the building hanging precariously off the edge. Beside it was a small shed, manned by an elderly station master with a great white beard and a bald head.

The station-master looked up from his book as their bike pulled into the lot.

"A room for two, and maybe something to eat," Cyne said, pulling out his wallet.

"I can get you that room aye, but all I've got for dinner is some left-over stew," the station master muttered, throwing his novel to the side and hobbling out to greet them.

"That'll be fine," Cyne replied curtly, handing the old man a handful of copper chips.

After offering to recharge it he led them to their rooms in the way station.

The room was sparsely decorated, but clean enough to warrant the price. Two threadbare mattresses in the middle of the room and a shower with only a curtain for privacy on the left. At the far end of the room was a screen door leading out to a balcony overlooking the lake below.

"You wash up first. I'll wait," Cyne said, throwing his coat onto the mattress.

Libra nodded and waved Cyne away. "Look away, kid."

Cyne nodded, his cheeks blushing faintly. He turned around, facing the door, his eyes squeezed shut.

"After you killed their captain, I'm surprised they let us off so easily,"

"The snow crawlers have a strange sense of honor. As violent as they are, they keep their word. I guess it's the only good thing about them."

"You were… different during that duel. I know I don't know you very well and I certainly don't have the right to ask anything, I'm going to assume something happened between you and the snow crawlers."

Cyne didn't answer right away. She was right. Cyne had an extensive history with the snow crawlers. They were his enemies. During an expedition with his uncle years ago, the sand crawlers had come to his village. Razing everything in their path, they destroyed his home. The ashes of his parents were scattered to the wind, not even bodies left to bury.

"Yeah, we have a history," Cyne replied coldly.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Are you really sure? They say talking about your problems makes it better."

"I'm sure!" Cyne roared, instantly regretting it. "Look, I'm sure you're a great listener and all, but it's… complicated."

"Suit yourself."

Cyne made his way from the door across the small room to the balcony as the shower sputtered on. He needed some air. It was cold outside, cold enough to regret not taking his jacket with him.

At night, the lake was as smooth as obsidian glass. On the surface of the water, distorted by the shifting waves, was his own face. It was only his sixteenth year in the world, but he had fought tooth and nail to survive for so long.

His uncle told him, he had his mother's face. Pale and delicate, but a certain strength gleaming within the eyes. Cyne could see no strength in his eyes however, what he saw was just a scared, angry little boy.

"Admiring the view?"

He turned his head at the sound of Libra's voice behind him.

"No. Just thinking," Cyne replied, stepping away from the handrail.

"You were pretty handy with that sword earlier, where did you learn to fight like that?" she asked, cutting through the air with an imaginary sword.

"My uncle. He taught me everything I know," Cyne said, staring at the full moon with a blank expression.

"Well he must've been some teacher," Libra said. "Where is he now?"

"I don't know."

Libra sighed and scratched the side of her head. "You aren't one for conversation, are you? I mean I've met Icai monks who can hold conversations better than you."

"Icai?"

"Alien race, I guess they aren't common around here."

"Aliens don't come down here. We get a few merchants here and there for a quick stop to refuel, but they usually know better than to land here. I mean why would they? There's nothing down here."

"So you really don't know the name of this planet, or even the system we're in?"

"No. It's always just been New Belzan to me, the city, and the surrounding wilderness is all I've ever known."

Libra looked up at the stars, her eyes clouding over. "Do you ever wonder, If there's a life for you beyond this planet? Do you plan to spend the rest of your life here?"

"Maybe. I- I don't know."

"I'm sure you've had thoughts as a kid, flying away from all of this."

"I was too busy trying to survive, I didn't have time for daydreams. Let me ask you some of my questions. Just who are you? Why were you down there?"

"I can't answer any of those questions, yet. It's for your own good."

"I don't like being taken for a ride like this, can't you at least tell me who you are?"

"I'm sorry," Libra said with a sad smile.

"Damn it! First Muriel and then you! Stop treating me like a fool!" Cyne spat, storming back inside the room.

Libra clutched the handrails, her knuckles paling from the force of her grip.

"Muriel? Tell me, just what do I do?" she muttered, a single teardrop snaking down her pale cheek.

Miles away, in a walled village comprised of clusters of animal hide huts, a pyre was lit in the center of the village. Watching the fire with cold eyes, was the chieftain of Wolves Nest. Towering over the common man, the chieftain was a fearsome sight to behold.

"Who? Who killed my son?" he roared, directing his fury at a trio of snow crawlers kneeling before him.

"It- it was a duel, the challenger won-"

The chieftain raised his cleaver and brought it down on the snow crawler, cleaving him in two. "He was my son! My flesh and blood!" he howled. "My son is dead! Murdered! They killed him!"