Chapter Text
It was a just hat. Tall round top, bronze in color with dirty cream ribbon wrapped around the base and into a bow on the backside. The ribbon’s ends were tattered and even more dirty. Sticking out against one side, was feathers, seemingly one of every color and size, looking worse for wear as the rest of the hat. There was an ugly rusty brooch with very large stone in the middle. The stone seemed to match the variety of colors of the feathers. The hat was stiff but felt velvety to the touch.
Why the hat seemed so important? Well, it was the first thing that a young man saw as he woke to a world of white. It was the only thing of any color and it just seemed to be the thing to grab as he sat up, crossing his legs under him and wrapped the large tattered coat he was wearing tighter around his freezing body. Cold and redden fingers trailed along the brim of the hat, over the feathers and the ribbon.
Inside the hat there laid a playing card. It looked brand new, a beautiful green design on one side and….well the other side was confusing. There were no queen, king, or a jack. No numbers or the playing suits. Just strange symbols written in dark purple. Shrugging his shoulders, the young man just placed it back inside the hat and placed the hat onto his head of ebony with curious streaks of silver among the dark strands.
He tested out the use of his standing ability and shivered more as the winds seemed to picked up and turned even more icy. The long twin ends of the hat’s ribbon whipped around his face, smacking him harshly before he tucked them into the back of the coat. His head may be empty of where and who he was but one thing for sure, he couldn’t stay in this one spot anymore. Tucked more under the large coat, he began to trudge through the snow.
Very soon the sky turned even more grey then the world turned dark and if any possible, colder. He did approach what once was a large luscious forest but now a graveyard of trees. Evil looking things, black as the night with gnarled branches that seem to about to grab at the nameless young man. He curled up more out of fear of the trees. It started to snow, fat patches of icy white flattering from the grey sky to add more to the ground below. Cold and tired, The young man just groaned as he dropped to his knees at a base of a dead tree. Eye lashes frozen to one another as chapped lips shivered and looking blue.
There was no warning as a huge body slammed into him, sharp teeth biting into his shoulder. He cried out in pain as he fell against the cold ground, the hat knocked off and laid upside down, the playing card fluttered out beside it. The beast snarled as its yellow sharp teeth crushed the bone in the shoulder, ripping muscles and veins. Blood did not spilled out but sprayed out over the white. Adding a gruesome color to the white sea. The young man cried and scream, one fist pounded against the hard and solid body that was pressing his more fail one into the ground.
The odd symbols of dark purple glowed on the surface of the otherwise white card, the sound of a heart beat thumping came from the card but lost among the sounds of beastly snarls and human cries of pain and fear. The fist fell back, uncurled as he lost the energy to fight. Pain numbed out the cold in his body as blood spilled out faster. The beast pulled its head back, licking its bloody chops, knowing it had won his dinner. An icy wind breezed by, sending the glowing card right into the dying man’s hand.
The symbols swam out off the white surface into the bare cold fingers and under the fingerless dark blue wool gloves, printing onto the palm and backhand. The symbols seem to beat energy that traveled from the hand up the arm then throughout the body. It was enough, just enough to help the dying man to fling his hand, curled back into a fist and beat one more time against the beast. This time in its ugly large head. The beast let out a pained yelp as the head went flying to the side. Not enough to kill but stunned the huge beast of black and brown fur.
Fueled by the energy of the symbols and the now crumpled card in his fist, he began to crawled backwards, his right arm barely hanging onto the joint of the shoulder. Chest heaving as he tried to move faster, to get to his feet. The beast now no longer stun, slowly turned his head and beady eyes of green onto its meal. It growled, snarled its displeasure.
Gulping and looking around for a rock or a stick even to better defend himself, the young man finally made it to his feet only to trip over an aboveground black root. He landed hard on the snow cold ground with a cry. His marked fist pounded into the root out of frustration. Just had enough of the whole situation, first walking around in the cold and snow, freezing to death, no memories of anything even his own name, and now he was to be some animal’s meal. He pounded the root once more, then gripped it as he cried out more.
Now a growl was his warning as the beast’s claw sliced into his leg. It pulled him back to the beast and it’s waiting teeth. He turned around with the hand still gripping onto the dead root, the other leg raising up to kick the creature in the face as one last chance of survival. It just butted it away with its muzzle. Just as sudden as the beast’s attack, it was snatch up by gnarled branches of the supposedly dead tree. Eyes widen in shock and awe as the branches ripped the beast apart, spraying the ground and nearby trees in its blood and gore. The beast cried out in pain till its head was ripped off and landed behind the shellshock man.
He rose his hand off the black root to cover his face from the flying gore and fur. Then the branches just stopped moving, stuck in the motion of tearing the rest of the body apart. Limbs hanging in the branches, wrapped around in wood. The young man frozen in place, trying to process it all in his head. Eyes surveyed over the gruesome scene. Then he turned around to look at the head of the beast. Tongue hanging out of the opened mouth, yellow teeth stained in red looked ready to still sink into his flesh. He dragged himself to it, gritting his teeth against the pain now in his leg. He looked at the dead eyes of the animal.
Then with an animalistic howl he beat his fist into the head. Smashing it into itself, hearing the skull cracked and the brains sloshed around his hand. He stopped the beating, panting as sweat and tears turned to ice upon his gore and bloody splattered face. Lost to what to next, he simply looked at his hand, replaying the whole scene in his head. He gasped out in fright, as glowing symbols floated off the skin of his hand and fingers and to the forgotten card that laid crumpled upon the snowy ground.
“Holy Shit….” He blinked and crawled on his knees and hand to the card as the last of the symbols went back into place. Eyes, wild and wide with fear and shock as they looked warily at the now still tree, hoping it would stay like that as he reached out for the now non-glowing card. He flipped his hand around, looking all over the card, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He smoothed out the crinkliness out of it against his risen knee and looked over it again. He slide it into the front pockets of the red and gold stripped trousers.
He slowly removed the large coat, letting it plop to the ground before unbuttoning the red and gold blazer and pulling it off. All done with hisses and cries as he now removed the silk purple dress vest and the cream dress shirt and studied the now numbed arm, the wound at his shoulder and wondered how to even attempt to tend at it. Using his teeth and fingers he tore at the undershirt that was left on his chilled body. Then again with his teeth and fingers he wrapped the straps tight around the wound. One strap was left to use as a sling to cradle the arm against his chest. Then just as he was slowly undressing, the young man slowly re-dressed. Fingers fumbled as they buttoned up the dress shirt, the blazer and then the large patchwork coat.
The remaining straps of undershirt went to bandage up the wound in his leg. Once done tending to his wounds, he wobbled as he stood. Spying the dirty hat, he limped, barely able to put any weight on the wounded leg, over to it and pick it up. He shook the fur and gore off it and placed it on his head. At his feet as large piece of what was the beast’s leg. He bent down once more to pick it up. Tired and hungry, he simply bite into it. Chewing it in disgust of the raw awful taste then swallowed it down with some snow to make it easier to go down his throat.
At a slow and wary speed, he reached for low-hanging branch, grunting as he pulled on it, twisting around to break it off the tree limb. Finally it broke off with a crack. He gave a laugh, empty of real mirth as he leaned against the broken branch. Testing it for sturdiness before he used it as a crutch, aiding him to walk. Then he stopped and walked back to the head of the beast that nearly killed him. He dropped to his knees. His hand, with his knee bracing down the muzzle, curled around one of the longer, large canines and pulled and yanked it right out of the blacken gum. With an evil some of triumph, he tucked the tooth inside his coat pocket. Then he simply started walking again in the snow, not wanting to spend another moment in this frightful area of death.
Before long though., the young man was taking longer and longer breaks as the snow fall faster around and on him. He stopped to rest his leg, that was now throbbing with every beat of his heart and heave out the contents of his stomach, pretty soon, not a lot was coming out. The ebony-haired man gulped down more snow to ease his stomach, out of nothing else to do to settle it. Then he heaved out that. Panting as he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his coat. One more step, he fell, exhausted and feverish onto the cold icy ground. Vision blurred before eyes finally closed.
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The world, this time, was warm and furry. On an exhale, the young man’s eyes opened. Then blinked till the world was in focus. There was a fire going in front of him as he turned his head to the warmth. A man dressed in dark skinned clothes was sitting next to it, stirring a spoon in the pot that hanged from a roasting spit. The smell from it was blissful as wall as disgusting as he felt his stomach flipped around inside him. He let out a groan as he turned his head away, snuggling more under the fur blanket.
A gentle but thick hand caressed over his hair and damped forehead. “It will pass.” A deep voice spoke to him. His eyes slowly open to glance into kind and soft hazel eyes. “But do try to swallow this down, little brother. Mmm?” A spoon made out of bone pressed against his mouth. Eyes lowered as he allowed it inside his mouth, dripping in hot strew with chucks of vegetables and meat. It was pulled out once the chucks landed on his tongue. He chewed and gulped it down slowly before accepting another helping.
“You were half covered in the snow when I came around.” The deep voice continue to speak as the man kept on spoon-feeding the young man. “I only found out that you were even there when I stepped on that branch beside you and looked down.” The young man rose a hand up to pushed the spoon away, feeling ill again. The older man sighed and finished off the stew in the stone bowl.
“Wher-ahem where am I? He croaked out, get more comfortable in the bed under the warmth of the blanket. Then he looked under the blanket to find only skin. “And clothes?”
“My little home. It just a cave, I had hallow out years ago, before the first of many snowstorms.” The older man stood up from his place on the cave floor and walked over to the fire to place the bowl down closed to it. “You were asleep for so long I thought you were never going wake up. I took the time to patch and wash your clothes.” He walked away out of sight. “Fancy material by the way, little brother. Must be from Golden Leaf City.”
The name of the city wasn’t familiar but it was the closest of a clue as he ever going get about his origins. The young man sat up with a groan, the blanket fell to pool around his lap as he studied the bandage job on his arm. He carefully rubbed his fingers against it.
“Lucky to be alive.” The older man placed a folded dark brown shirt and a pair of soft-leather trousers on his patient’s lap. “Vordiers are nasty beasts. Not many live after an attack, even fewer manage to keep body parts.” He sat on the floor again, beside the low bed which was mostly a pile of furs and blankets with two pillows. A very familiar tooth was held up for the young man to take. “Your kill, your prize.” It was made into a crude necklace of leather and other bits of bones, curved into beads.
The young man took it into his own hands, tracing over it with the pads of his fingers before pulling it over his head and feel it against his breastbone then pulled on the offered shirt. He lowered his head in modesty as he pulled the blanket off of his legs and slowly pulled the trousers on and tying it tight to secure it around his waist. “Thanks, mister.”
“Not every day, one would see another person out here in this Godforsaken place.” The big man spoke softly as he helped him back under the fur blanket, giving him a cup of water to drink. “Only Vordiers live up here, only them can live up here now.” he lowered his head down, expression of sadness on his furry face.
“You seem to be doing fine.” The young man took another sip of water before giving him the cup back, lowering himself down, ready to sleep again. His energy drained from simply sitting up and dressing. The feeling of slight pain in his wounded arm made him have a little hope that he hasn’t completely lost it just yet.
“I had training and I’m a very fast learner.” A large hand rose up, slowly and unsure at first but went ahead to brush along the longish strands of silver and black, pushing it off the pale face. The young man sighed sleepily and leaned into the touch. “Go to sleep, little brother. We’ll talk a bit more later.” he whispered as the bright blue eyes hide behind dark lashes.
The hand caressing over his hair and head lulled him back to sleep, feeling warm and safe for the first time since he first woke up in this cold world.
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The next time he open his eyes, he was alone. The fire was cracking and popping before him like the last time he had woke up. At first, the young man sat up, taking a look around the rather spacious cave before slowly moving to place his feet on the ground. The cave floor felt warm from the fire as he stood up, but one step forward made him fall to his knees as his injured leg made it known that it wasn’t healed yet. He cried out in pain and laid his head in between his elbows, breathing in and out.
He looked up to see the big bearded man from earlier, looking down at him with a big axe in one hand and a dead small animal in the other. The young man didn’t want to know what the expression in the hazel eyes mean. He tore his eyes away, face flush with anger at himself for looking so helpless to this man, even if he did bring in out of the snow. He instead forced himself back up, gritting his teeth to keep sounds of pain from escaping. Slowly, once he was up on his feet, he hopped and limped over where the clothes were being stored, spotting his own spectator boots off to the side with his own clothes.
The young man fell against the cave wall, feeling worn out from going no more then two yards. He cleared his throat before easing himself down, to rest his backend on the floor. He reached for one black and white boot but it was snatched out of his hands. Then one strong arm wrapped around his wrist and another under his legs, lifting him despite his protests. The bigger man carried him with no problems, ignoring the angry growls and fists against his chest. Then he carefully laid the younger man down upon the bed.
“I went to go out.” The younger man hissed, looking like a five year old boy even with a week’s worth of hair growth around his lips and chin.
“Nothing out there but snow and Vordiers. “ The bearded man spoke, moving to the front of the cave to begin skinning the small animal he had killed. “And the very rare ivory slink.”
The younger man clinched his jaw and glared at the other man. “You can’t keep me here against my will.”
This time, the older man snorted and shook his head. “Tell you what, little brother, the day you can walk more then a foot out of here, on your own, I’ll pack up and go with you.” He looked over his shoulder, grinning at the childish look on his guest’s face.
“Fine, it’s a deal.” He then mumbled out that he didn’t need this bearish man to go with him. Not needing or wanting anymore help from him.
“It’s Mcthorn.”
“What is?” Just as he was trying for attempt number two. Feet already moving to place on the floor.
“Get back in the bed, saw some Vordiers heading this way.” The man warned, bloody skinning knife pointed at the young man. “And I’m Mcthorn.” He looked back down at his task, laying the fur out beside his foot. “Sue McThorn.”
“Sue?” The young man raised an dark eyebrow as he repeated the name. Then held his hands up in surrounded as Sue pointed the knife at him once more in warning.
For rest of the day, the young man simply laid back on the bed as he listen to Sue Mcthorn sing with his low deep voice as he prepared the slink meat for later meals and clean the white fur. Eyes closed slowly on their own as the song become softer to his eyes.
This time, he dreamed. There was a large ferries wheel in the center of the field. Long strands of ribbon and flags went from the center of its eye to poles at the edge of the field. Sounds of laughter filled the air as he stood in the center of the stage, in bright colors, juggling six balls of red, blue, yellow, green, purple and orange. He didn’t hear what he was saying, just know it got the crowd that surrounded the stage laughing.
The red and blue went up high into the air and then exploded in fireworks of glitter as doves of white flattered over the crowd, around in a circle as the crowd applauded. Then there in the center of the crowd was cloaked figured, faded out like a photograph that was left out in the sun for too long. The figure held out a single playing card, held it out to him. The symbols glowed from dark purple to brilliant gold before flying out, spinning fast in circles, mocking his doves’ actions. Then they flew right into him. The force as they hit into his chest cause the man to fall back, forever falling into a pit of black.
The young man shoot straight up, grabbing his chest. He breathed sharply and quickly, night sweats covered over his face and body. His host still fast asleep on the floor beside him, wrapped up in additional fur blanket. The breathing slowed down as his heart slowly went back to normal beating. His fingers clenching around the tooth of the Vordier that hang around his neck under the borrowed shirt.
Was it simply a dream or a memory of the Before. Before waking into a world of ice and snow.