The mother huddled her child closer as the chilled wind enveloped the group, a thin layer of clouds blanketing the skies.

Rushing through the depths of the forest, the four moved with haste, not stopping for anything as they continuously pressed forth.

"Snow is about to catch up to us.", the man with the eyepatch noted as he slashed his way through a pair of branches with a jagged knife, clearing a path for the four. "I don't want to leave easy to find trails like this... but if it begins to snow then it will be all the easier to find us. Right now we have to keep on going... as far as we can without stopping."

With these words, the pace hastened.

The breath of the four became visible as they ran, panting and pressing without end.

Ice filled their lungs, yet even so they continued - for stopping would only give pursuers a moment to catch up to them.

"What do we do if they catch up to us?", the husband asked, glancing behind him as a layer of snow began to form underneath his feet.

Stopping in his tracks for just a moment at this question, the guide reached into the pocket of his vest, pulling out a pair of pistols.

Throwing one to the man and handing the other to the mother, the man glared into their eyes with his single eye, speaking with a fierce resolve.

"I'd prefer not to waste any time fighting... but if we have to we will. And both of you have to be prepared for that. Is that much understood?"

With resolved expressions, the two nodded immediately as the wife gripped the weapon in the arm which was not carrying the child.

"Very well then. Let's continue."

Thus, the three moved on.

The wind picked up, and the sting of the cold on their skin increased.

Even dressed in heavy clothing, the weather seemed to bend against the group - making travel all the more difficult.

The layers of snow underneath them increased, and soon even walking became difficult.

"Uh... wa... wa!!!"

And then, the child began to cry.

Shouting out for the first time since the beginning of the trip, even this mundane child showed it's true nature, screaming out as the cold bit at it.

"Shh... shh... here here... we've just got to make it through this, and everything will be fine.", the mother reassured, however the child's crying did not stop.

At that moment, an immense gust of wind enveloped the group, at which moving forward became impossible.

"Shit... shit... this is not good. It will make things more difficult for pursuers... but we're going to have to set up a camp."

Setting down his sack, the man began to remove a large amount of equipment, swiftly setting up a tent and a campfire.

"The smoke will make us a prime target of every scout in the area... but if we don't get this up, we'll die.", the man spit as he lit a match, throwing it into the fire.

The snow around the fire melted, and the group quickly huddled around it as they warmed themselves, the wind roaring all the while causing the fire to spurt back and forth.

It may have gone out at any moment, yet even through the torrent it remained alive.

The guide grabbed his sack, removing a thermos and setting up a stand above the fire with haste, not wasting even a second.

"We eat something for now while we can. As soon as the storm dies down we continue. Patrols will be unlikely given this weather, however we can't be too careful. Therefore rest. I'll keep watch and ensure that nothing happens."

As the man spoke these words he began to install a set of weighted strings with bells attached to them, heavy enough that the wind would not trigger such a trap yet if something were to step within range then it would go off.

The man made a circle around the camp, 20 meters in all directions before returning to his spot.

Taking the thermos, the man poured some liquid into the cap while handing it to the woman, giving the cup to the man.

"I said eat while you can, didn't I?", he pressed.

Taking the food, the husband and wife nodded, strangely entranced by the kindness of the hardy man.

"You... I didn’t expect you to be so considerate. Thank you.", the husband stated.

"Hm? If you die then I can't get any money."

"Yes, that is true.", the wife stated while coddling the child, slowly blowing on the soup before feeding it. "But even if you were in it for the money... such a dangerous job isn't worth it. Right?"

Surprised at the astuteness of the woman, the single eye of the man opened wide with surprise.

Then he laughed.

"You've found a good woman there, comrade."

"That I have.", the husband replied, taking a chug of the soup before handing it back over to the guide. "That I have."

"Haha! I guess it's for times like this that I do these jobs.", the guide spouted as he slurped his own portion of the soup. "Sometimes if you live your life without any action... everything just becomes gray."

Gazing off into the distance, the man looked up at the sky.

Indeed, it was gray.

Not a sliver of the sky peeked through those clouds, however they were not dark either.

A light gray, dark enough to make everything uncertain, yet just bright enough to make one wonder if any hope could be found in such a sky.

"What do you two plan on doing when you enter Stronvardia? It's a different place, that nation. Capitalists are insane, you know. Though... I suppose I am one of them.", the man chuckled as he felt the coin in his pocket.

"Ah... well, I suppose I'll find somewhere to put my strength to work. Maybe construction or a lumber mill...", the man mused as he stroked his beard.

"You know that in that nation laborers are the bottom of the food chain, right?", the guide chuckled. "Why don't you try and become a big shot when you get there?"

"Isn't that the same for every nation?"

With this quick reply, the man nodded his head no, denying the notion. "There's no way someone like me could do something like leading people. I'm built to work with my hands. I don't have the brain to figure any of this out. I've gotta do what's in front of me."

With a sigh, the man admitted to his own limitations.

Despite his immense build and brutish figure, he was but a simple man.

Even something such as leaving this nation was the most ambitious thing he had done in his lifetime, and only at the threat of death otherwise.

"You'll be eaten up there."

With a condemning tone, the guide spoke these words, poking the fire with a branch as he spurred it.

"Even if it's insane here... even if there is violence and revolution all around us... in the world of the Capitalists, the revolution is completely different. The danger is there... but it's in a much more hidden form. It's not like they have a King or anything like that... no... that's why the revolutionaries were able to unite so easily. They had an enemy to attack. But in the Capitalist society, it's much more complicated."

Thinning his eyes, the man spoke with a grimness in his voice.

"In that world... there's a web of power."

Taking one final sip of the soup, the man chugged it down before wiping his beard, standing up as he prepared to scout out for any traces of approaching danger.

"Everyone is caught in that web. The only difference is... whether you're a spider or a fly."

----

"Sir! I have a report!"

Standing at attention, a soldier dressed in military garb saluted as he stood before the desk of his commander, awaiting a response before speaking any further.

A young man sat at the desk, his arms folded in a serious manner as his eyes thinned, staring straight through the soldier who stood before him.

On his cap was a three pointed star - the symbol of the Kurgistak Family.

Ruling over the Joraten Kingdom for hundreds of years, this family had passed down the baton of leadership from generation to generation.

However it was also in this blood related succession that a vital flaw was present.

In the past, the throne was not given directly to the firstborn son, but rather it was given to the son who showed the most promise at the time of the king's death.

All sons of the royal family were pitted against one another in a battle for superiority, expected to obtain their own subordinates and allies, boosting the strength of their factions until the time to decide who would rule the land came.

Yet the current king was an only child.

With no siblings to compete with, he was spoiled beyond measure - given everything on a silver platter without having to obtain it for himself.

While the previous system was brutal and led to deceptive leaders who controlled everything in the palm of their hands, they were bred to be competent above all else.

Yet the current leader lacked one thing - the threat of failure.

Taking the throne in 1975 after the death of his father, a mere 5 years had passed before the Joraten Kingdom had gone to ruin under the rule of Lestor Kurgistak.

Endlessly throwing banquets without reservation and refusing to listen to the most heartfelt pleas of his citizens, this man was the very definition of incapable.

A leader must at all times be seen within a good light in the eyes of the public - and this man knew nothing of such a rule which had been battered into the minds of his predecessors.

Thus, a book was written as the disparity between the rich and the poor increased to levels unlike anything before.

"The Will of The People", by Kraig Strax.

A document slandering the current king, and the bureaucratic system as a whole, this publication became widely popular within the Joraten Kingdom.

Even to those who were illiterate, public readings and rallies began to be held, spreading this doctrine throughout the land before the King could even do anything about it, and a revolutionary faction had been born.

Led by none other than Kraig Strax, this group began to recruit people within cities all across the nation, gathering up those who held anti-monarchy sentiments as they rebelled.

This movement began in 1980, and after a couple of years the violence began.

Revolutionary factions gathered together to form strongholds, and the threatened King had gathered up his armies of military policemen in order to face these revolutionaries, leading to the current moment in 1982.

"What is your report, soldier? Have revolutionaries been spotted?"

"Sir! Whether they are revolutionaries or not is unknown, but our scouts have spotted the smoke from a fireplace in the forest to the North of here! There is no reason why anyone would be inside the forests near the border here unless they were either planning to cross illegally or to attack our outpost. What are your orders?"

Folding his hands as he closed his eyes in thought, the man began to tap the desk.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Standing up while keeping his eyes closed, he placed his own hand on the wall, tapping three times once more.

And then, walking next to the soldier, he placed his hand on the shoulder of the man - tapping three times again.

"I will head out myself. Inform Ursil to follow behind me in case of any... accidents."

"Sir? You don't wish to send out a full force? Is it that you don't wish to be noticed? Even if that is so, surely there is no need to go out yourself-"

"Soldier. Did I ask for your opinion?"

At that moment, the man felt three fingers around his throat.

Whispering into his ear, the commander's soft voice carried a deadly threat within it.

"Well?"

"N-no Sir."

"Then do not speak."

The man felt his throat tighten for just an instant, his breath denied as death flashed before his eyes - and then it ceased.

"Huff... huff... huff..."

Bending down and panting as the man let him go, the man fell to the ground in a pathetic manner.

"I expect some hot cocoa to be prepared for when I return. That is a job that you should be able to handle."

With this, the door closed.

The man was left in the office of his superior, gripping his neck as he realized that he was still alive.

'Hot cocoa... I should get to it.'

Struggling to get up, this soldier rushed out of the room as well, heading to the kitchen as he straightened his uniform.

'With the Commander at the head of this army... I cannot imagine even the most organized revolution will be able to make him crumble.'

----

'Threads hidden in the snow... I suppose I couldn't exactly refer to these people as complete amateurs.'

The man known as The Commander walked through the wilderness as he approached the area where the smoke had been rising.

Holding a set of leashes in one hand, three wolves walked ahead of this man, stopping as he desired as if they could read his very thoughts - becoming silent on approach as he inspected the ground.

'However, just because they are not amateurs... does not mean in any way that they are professionals.'

Letting go of the leashes, the man pulled out a pistol from his side, then unsheathed a saber from his other side as he dual wielded the weapons.

The wolves rushed forth, heading to attack as they jumped over the ropes with grace, not making a sound as their footsteps lightly threaded the snow.

'And even if they are professionals... they were unfortunate.'

Glancing behind him as he made a hand signal to hold, the man stepped forward slowly, waiting to assess the situation.

'That I happened to be the one in their path.'

----

"Get up. One... two... three... three are approaching. Four are nearby. Three pairs of steps are irregular, likely animals. Dogs. Get up now and prepare to shoot."

Gripping his jagged knife with one hand, the one eyed man aimed his pistol towards the brush as he gritted his teeth, stomping out the fire with one foot as he stood.

"Eh? We're under attack? I didn't hear-"

Pop pop pop.

Three bullets were shot off before the wife could even answer, and the family was forced to stand as a wolf stumbled out of the brush, covered in blood and bullet wounds.

The dog treaded forward, however it was on its last limbs, barely able to walk forward, yet jumping over it were two more who rushed towards the three.

"Shit... dogs!"

The husband bore his weapon as well, firing off a couple shots which strayed from their path as the dog seemed to dodge his shots, pouncing on him with ferocity.

A number more gunshots could be heard as the man was forced to the ground, the rabid teeth of the dog facing him as it snapped its maw.

"You bastard..."

Holding the animal back with brute strength, the man wrestled the dog with all his might as he struggled for his life.

All the while, the other man had taken care of the second wolf, aiming for its vitals before turning and firing one final shot.

Bang!

Straight through the head of the dog on top of the husband.

Blood covered his face as the animal let out a cry before falling limp, and the man could do nothing more than shove it off his body as he brushed himself off, shivering.

Whether it was due to the cold or his own terror, even this man did not know.

Gripping his weapon once more, he looked around him with suspicion, as if awaiting another attack.

"What do we do?", the husband asked.

"There's one more... their owner, likely. Will he attack head on? Or will he-"

At that instant, a shot was fired.

The guide looked to his arm as he realized blood was welling up.

He had been shot.

'I... didn't even notice... shit... where is he now?'

Looking around him with paranoia, the guide shouted out to the two.

"Get out of here!!!"

As he said this, the husband looked to the wife, then back to the guide.

"Are you... are you sure about this?", he asked firmly.

Yet the reply was cold, filled with rage as if to scare him off.

"Get the hell out of my face right now."

At that instant, the husband and wife made a break for it.

They rushed off, leaving their partner to stand in the open, awaiting the moment when the enemy would appear.

Seconds passed, then minutes.

About three minutes had passed before any notion of movement could be heard, at which the man immediately pointed his weapon towards the brush.

"How cruel. You know, I consider myself to be quite the animal lover. It does sadden me when my precious dogs are slaughtered so easily. And by mere men at that... how brutal."

Three shots were fired off as soon as the voice spoke, yet the man showed himself unharmed.

"Who the hell are you?", the guide asked, reloading his magazine without wasting a motion.

Bang!

Yet at that moment, another shot was fired.

The man rolled away, dodging within an inch of his life as he finished his own reload.

"The more important question is... who are you?"

Yet he was too late, for he was met with a saber to his neck.

"Do you think I'll answer that so easily?"

However with a quick motion, this blade was pushed away with the jagged one that the one eyed man wielded, and standing to his feet the two began a furious swordfight.

Slashing and blocking, dodging within a hair's width, the two blades seemed to dance along one another in a majestic manner as a battle ensued.

BANG! BANG!

Then, firing off their pistols at point blank range, the two used the firearm of the other in a battle of brute strength to redirect the other's aim.

"Commander of the military police of the Kurgistak family... Martin von Speizer. I am here to prevent any revolutionaries from whatever vile actions you are likely planning against our King... you filthy traitors."

Pushing back against one another, the two interlocked both their pistols and their swords as their faces came within inches of one another.

"I ain't no revolutionary, Commander. I'm just trying to help a family try to get away from all this revolution. Anything wrong with that?"

In a sarcastic tone, the man fired off another shot into the air, unable to get a clear line on the opponent right before his eyes.

"There is everything wrong with that... but if you aren't a revolutionary... then I don't have time to be dealing with you."

Jumping back, the man sheathed his weapons as quickly as he had drawn them, turning his back on the guide without a second thought.

'Wha.... this idiot... did he really just-'

"Did I really just turn my back on you? Perhaps that is the thought you just had. Allow me to say one thing, mercenary - or whatever you may be."

Pointing his weapon at the man who casually walked off in a leisure manner, the guide could do nothing more than listen to his words, as if captivated by something beyond his understanding.

"Even if you shot... you would not be able to defeat me. I am sparing you and those deserters for the moment. And if I had to give a reason.... I suppose it would be because they are nothing more than victims of the traitors who have plagued this nation."

With the tip of his hat, the man headed towards the bushes.

The guide found himself unsure as to whether he should shoot, but in the end he decided not to.

For his instinct raged against it.

He did not understand it, but something told him at that moment that if he were to shoot, he would awaken a great enemy which would pursue him to the ends of the earth.

And then, at that moment, a loud shot was heard.

And then another.

"Ah... how unfortunate. It would seem my mercy was too late. You see... if you had not taken up so much of my time fighting, then I would have been able to inform my partner to hold off on elimination... yet it would seem that the sentence has already been carried out."

Turning around, the commander gave the man a bored glare as he spoke in a cold tone.

"Well, I suppose you killed a few of my own... so this makes it even, no?"

And with this, the man disappeared into the bushes.

Turning around, the guide felt a sense of urgency as he rushed forward, following the path of footsteps that had been created as the family had run off.

'Did I fail?'

'Did I fail at my job?'

'Did I fail in protecting them?'

Biting his lip, the man refused to accept such a thing.

He trudged forward, determined to find out.

And as he pressed onwards, he came across it.

Falling to his knees, the man could do nothing more than grind his teeth, engraving into his own mind one thing.

'I failed.'

----

"Come on. We need to go. Who knows how many enemies there are around us already?"

The husband spoke these words as the two ran with their child, escaping from their attackers.

"Nerokov... he's doing us a real favor."

Looking back for just a moment as the two tread through the snow, the man wiped his reddened nose as he looked forward once more.

"Therefore, we can't waste his sacrifice here."

The two ran, dodging tree after tree as they made their way through the forest.

Eventually, the forest opened up to a field.

A fence spread across the horizon with the field between them, around 8 or 9 feet high.

"What are we going to do about that?", the woman asked as she pointed to the fence in the distance.

However, to her concerns, the man straightened his expression.

"I'll climb it with the child. Give him to me. You follow me afterwards."

Taking a deep breath, the woman nodded as she handed over the child.

The snow seemed to slow down, and the wind seemed to calm for a moment, as if allowing the three to proceed.

"Let's go-"

BANG!

As soon as the man uttered these words, the sound of a firing weapon from the distance was heard.

A thud, next to him, and the man could do nothing more than turn in horror as he witnessed the scene.

A bullet had pierced straight through the head of the woman he loved - his wife.

'No...'

BANG!

And then, he felt a sharp pain in his back.

Falling to the ground, another thud was heard as he landed in the snow, and the child in his arms began to cry once more.

'No...'

The man could not breathe.

Everything inside him burned as if he was being boiled alive, and he could barely move.

Tears came to his eyes, and he realized that his journey was over.

Bringing the crying child close to his chest, the man knew that his lung had been pierced.

Blood flowed into his lung, and the suffocation began - yet even so he held the child close, warming it up in his last moments.

"Don't... don't die, son."

Coughing up blood as he spoke these words, the man instilled them into his child, who's crying ceased as it felt the warmth of the father's chest.

"Live."

Closing his eyes, the man felt all life sapping away from him.

Holding out his hand towards the woman next to him, he gripped it.

It was small.

Far smaller than his own.

Delicate and dainty, yet this man knew that she was a hardened woman.

And yet her life had been taken in that instant.

'But I... am not much stronger.'

At that moment, just as the man was teetering on the edge of consciousness, he heard a voice.

"Darwin... Lira..."

It was the voice of Nerokov.

The one eyed man whispered these names from the forest, hiding behind the trees from the sniper in the distance.

Getting on the ground, the man crawled towards the two, remaining low as to not be spotted.

"Forgive me.", he stated.

"Nerokov... you did... everything you could."

"If I was quicker..."

"Don't."

The husband rolled over so that his back faced the sky, covering the child to protect it while he crawled into the forest.

"Take him."

It took all the energy he had, but he made his way back into the forest without harming the child, keeping it protected all the while.

The man handed the boy to Nerokov, who gripped him with care, staring his client in the eyes.

"Darwin... I failed at my duty. I couldn't protect you or your wife."

"That... is not what we paid for... now is it?"

Barely able to speak anymore, the man said these words as he looked at the man with a smile.

Then, in that instant, he died.

He stopped moving, without another word - and he froze in that spot.

The child began to cry once more, as if it recognized what had happened.

"That's right."

Standing up once more, the man headed back into the forest.

He took the child with him, protecting it at all costs as he trudged back to the camp - to confirm one thing.

"You paid me to get this child across the border... didn't you?"

At that instant, the flame of passion was invoked in the single eye of the man.

"And I always finish the job."

----