‘’Eyes are meant to talk,’’ His father once said. ‘’They are better than words and songs and paintings. It tells a story through the soul...without any lies.’’ He was already five years old at that time. Maybe from his young age or from his current situation, Auber seemed like a distant memory. A fuzzy, warm picture...

‘’Don’t forget, Grim.’’

‘’Eyes always reflect the heart.’’

Grim was scared of looking at his father’s eyes. Their eyes never met. He could gaze on his father’s face and cheeks, or look down to his feets while marveling about how interesting they were. Bur never, ever, he looked inside his father’s eyes. It was scary...and saddening. A pair of hollow eyes, trying to look warm and healthy wasn’t a good sight. Hardly holding onto his lifelong companion and family heirloom to stand up, skin dried up and cracked, and a cloud white hair. His father wasn’t pleasant to look. It made one pity for him.

He was embarrassed about him sometimes. Not that he had friends that could ridicule him. To have a father who looked like he could fell at the slightest breeze...he didn't know why he felt such disgust and shame. But he so badly wished for that forty year old grandpa like man to be at his side right now. He didn't wish, he pleaded. Why are you not here dad? Why am I alone? Why these people are scary? He didn't know if they could reach to home.

‘’Stop those two!’’ The same man shouted. His voice was so cracked, so rough, so terrifying! Just like a moment ago, another blade shot past his face. It cracked the ground and shook the terrain. Conall once more jumped before hand to evade it and growled. He never saw her this angry in his life. At least not in his earliest memories.

‘’Co-Conall please don’t stop! Let’s hurry please!’’ Her red covered fur gave him shivers and fear again. He couldn’t cry anymore. His tears disappeared a while ago. They didn't come out no matter how hard he tried. It burned and hurt. He also feared to look back. Feared this, feared that...really all he capable of was feeling afraid?

‘’Fuck! It’s trying to lose us in the forest!’’ Same voice shouted, ‘’***** get your wings!’’

Wings? He didn't have the chance to wonder as Conall leaped again. She defied gravity with an inhumane agility as she climbed a twenty meter tree in seconds without losing balance. Her legs never missed the right place. They always seemed to find the perfect position to step and move. It was taxing and tiring it seemed as her breathing turned to erratic and growls got less frequent.

It was surreal that these men could still catch up to them.

Then he heard a flapping. A very, very loud one. Even as Conall moved through the wide and slender branches of the trees the sound never left their side. She also understood, it looked like. She let out a howl and rushed towards the side. Cover? Grim buried his head into the piercing fur of the Conall at her command. Then he felt it. A freezing wave of air, like none he felt. It was colder than the snowballs he ate to his face in winter. Even the icy lakes of Pale Coast seemed inferior in front of this cold. A shiver went through his whole body. He tried to feel his numb right arm. Then he lifted his head to look at it. It was frost-blue. Like a crystalline gem, a beautiful yet chilling sight.

Then he heard a thud as Conall moved again. All it longed was mere three seconds. He looked at the frozen chunks of ice, shaped like a head and body, smash onto the branch they were standing on a moment ago. Dark, feather filled magical wings of the man turned into a stream of energy as the man split into pieces. Eyes wide, mouth agape...terrorized.

No no no no no no no...NO. Grim’s heart started to beat like a huge drum. While feeling like he was at the deepest pit he could fall, Grim kept staring back at that place. He could still see the frozen chunks from afar. He could still see the face. One of indignation. It was Disgusting.

He then saw a flurry of shadows among the cloudless night sky. They were shaped like humanoid monsters. A cape flowed from their back. Wings alike to the man who...who had died just now. Grim couldn’t see the details. It was too hard from the overwhelming distance and height. But a hunch told him that those monsters were the men behind them. Those man defied all common sense he had in this world several times by now. Running as fast as a four horse pulled cart, destroying trees and boulders like breaking a piece of branch, throwing balls and spears and swords of different elements and lastly, flying like a eagle in the sky. They were too strange and...scary.

Yet, he could still see it. He could still see those malice filled, wrathful, dangerous, threatening, sick, toxic, and pitiful eyes. They were wild, ambitious, greedy. They wanted something. They desired. Money? Fame? Power? Maybe food? These questions were hard to both think and answer in this situation. But he knew. They weren’t pure.

They weren’t pure evil.

*********

Leap.

Jump.

Evade.

Run away.

Strike.

Leap again.

Then again.

Again.

These were all she had been doing for the past several minutes. Her body let her down. It wasn’t as strong as before. Beads of sweat and patches of bloody scars covered her face and chest and exhausted legs. It was not, however, an obstacle. At least not as powerful as the bugs coming after them.

She also feared a little. Her beat was beating the fastest since she was born. Since she...she was left to her own. By her own parents, her own kin and tribe. It was sad. She overcame it although, it never bothered her. But the little human on her back was bothering. It was worrying her, making her scared and fearful towards what could happen.

He was way too small. She didn't want to lose the blood of the person she loved the most. He didn't deserve such an early ending. So she ran. She ran as fast as she can. She leaped among the trees, ignoring her fear of falling down. These men ran out of things to throw a long while ago but were adamant about keeping up. Her eyesight turned blurry sometimes from the blood trailing down her forehead, where stood a finger sized light cut. Edges of the wound were greeny-red and flowed down with the dark red blood. It was like one of the bugs she killed at the home. That bug had a strange substance on it's needle that made her unable to walk for hours straight after being pierced.

Dangerous!

That was the conclusion. She had to be fast. She had to be the fastest. She had to push through her limits. She HAD TO...for now.

A river of magic fell down on the forest, through her back and sides, collapsing the trees and killing wild animals along the way. Fireballs burnt the greeny pale lands and crimson colored phantoms fell down with scythes to slash through her body. Anguished screams of a Azmch slipped her mind from concentration. Damned forest djinn didn't let her take even a breath in it's own habitat. Roots of the trees rose and shot towards her legs. No choice, she jumped down to not get entangled. They missed their target and shot towards her again, to no avail. Sounds were gradually disappearing from her ears as she started to lose her sense of direction.

I must!

She didn't falter. A voice was gathering up in her throat for some time. She was holding it, in pain and fear. One more jump and roots routed again. They seemed to get bigger each time she evaded. Their numbers? Increased. A dozen of roots turned into tens of roots, now to hundreds of roots.

I won’t!

She felt the bitter cold of north on her face just for a moment. She felt the feeling of being in her homeland. It was...heartwarming.

‘’OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!’’

It didn't sound like a roar. It wasn’t a roar. It was a war cry. A war cry, created from the last scraps of magic left in her, that was enough to shook every witness to the core.

A whirlwind of frost and ice crushed down on every fiber of her body. Unfortunate roots right next to her got instantly frozen by frost, then crushed by the ice particles. Whirlwind then expanded. It covered ten meters, twenty meters, and still kept going on.

‘’NA-’’ Another one of the man turned into a statue whilst screaming. He fell down from the sky as his wings disappeared from existence. His head crushed by the earth, he died without any pain. Not a death he deserved.

‘’Co-co-co-conall…’’ Grim’s shaking and deadpan voice, although saddened her greatly, didn't stop her from running again. She could guess how Grim looked like now. His back and arms and hair frozen like sapphires, tears turning into ice the moment they were spilled-if there was any left- and most probably his dearest gift from his Uncle breaking apart.

Just a little more.

Only a little bit more!

Then she saw a light. Even as the roots started to move back and leftover men shouted with indignance and reddened eyes, she saw the same, orange light. It was the light of the lanterns planted along the last few tens of meters of the estate. It was the light of hope and home.

*Ra-r-röh*

Her voice...died out. She couldn’t let out any noise. She risked destroying her vocal cords with that whirlwind, but not at the moment. She couldn’t risk it at this moment! She had to let that roar out. To get some help. To let them know she was here. That THEY WERE HERE.

But she couldn’t. She was helpless.

‘’I got her!’’ She heard an instant voice, right behind her. She had no energy left to react, let alone move away. But she still tried. The wind currents changed as the sound of the slashing lashed out against her fur. If that thing struck, maybe she could survive, but not the child. Grim couldn’t.

A miracle, as she managed to move her body slightly to the right, the downwards slash struck. Her right paw and chest was caught in the slash with the fingers of Grim. Conall’s muffled scream didn't bother the man as he watched the Whiteling wolf falling down. Grim’s frozen, adamantly holding hand released it's grip. They both fell down together. Lying down on her own blood, Conall struggled to keep her eyes open. Two more silhouettes appeared as the attacker stabbed his weapon to her right leg. Grim’s sound seemed lost at this moment. Tears welled up in her eyes. Only a few meters. Just a few! That was all left for the rescue!

She hated herself. Even while dying, losing blood, and feeling intense pain, she felt the same thing when she was left alone. Why can’t I even do anything? Her hearing sense got worse it seemed. She couldn’t hear what the men were talking. But she was sure, they were hurrying as well. Then they turned around to look at her, to look at her back. She didn't know what they were looking with those insulting, scornful eyes. Then she figured out. She saw the shadow of a little body, standing up. Holding a sword. A strange and refreshing aura was invading her nostrils, which she didn't know where it came from. Then she started to hear a bit better.

‘’He has ********** tell*********quick*******get him!’’ One of the men took out a strange sphere while other two ran over her body and struck to the young shadow. It disappeared in a instant, then a loud thud woke her mind. She let the tears fall down. She failed.

She once more failed as the men took the gift of Truman. They took out a red, menacing stone from the short sword, then threw the blade away right at her side. Like that, they disappeared into the night again.

Mother…

Her eyes, for the second time, turned into one of the weak.