Chapter Text
It was cold. A candid colt covered everything, as snowflakes slowly, yet restlessly fell from the sky. They hit the ground without making a sound, merging with the rest and disappearing. Yet, during their brief flight, even if for just a moment, they shined with beauty, and little it mattered if their destiny was to melt and be forgotten. When people thought about the snow, they thought about the quick voyage that immense collectivity of white fragments had toward the ground ; only that part was so affectionately admired and represented in art and literature.
As for the single snowflake, it’s destiny was to be “born” and die in silence, without a single soul noticing.
It was an harsh thought, but how many times the same law could be applied to men? Cities were considered big, powerful and even beautiful, but the people themselves, if taken individually, usually shared the destiny of that single snowflake. A traveler will not remember any of the faces he sees there, let alone care about their destiny. At the citizens themselves, too busy with life, can’t bother to worry about most of each other. So countless of them will go through their life without making a sound of any kind, simply adding to the mass, to be forgotten soon enough.
It was an unpleasant thought, but how many could boast to be an exception? Few, that was for sure. Some by birth, some by luck, a bunch by talent.
That was the small elite Diego had aimed for. The unlucky beginning of his life, bound to tragedy and misfortune since the very moment of his birth, appeared to have set for him the unhappy doom to remain unnoticed. And as much as he remembered, that’s exactly what had happened. None of the farmers really saw him and his mother, their sorry stares never grasped anything but what they wanted to see.
Easy answers for easy minds.
The first and only moment, when his mother had emerged to be seen as “someone” was during her courageous response to the farmer’s revenge. She had preferred to burn herself and bear the pain to save some dignity for her and her child. Her strength of spirit and determination could not be ignored.
However, that moment of glory didn’t last long. Ironically, it was the cause of her demise even. Eventually the burns got infected and took her away, slowly and without making a fuss.
No one of the many farmers that surrounded them really cared, simply expressing that bit of sorrow that common courtesy required.
How many years had passed since then? How many things had changed?
Enough to bring it him there, in the middle of world famous race. Those were moments hard to forget, Especially since they had formed such a big part of his character, whatever in good or bad ways, yet, in that desolated snowy land they seemed so far it almost felt like they had never been.
Diego tried to banish those considerations from his mind, feeling his concentration decreasing. It really wasn’t the right moment to get lost in thoughts : the weather was worsening, and he needed to find a good place where to stop before it got too dangerous . While he was willing to risk a bit, a dead horse would have done no good. Not only it would meant losing his only loyal companion, but a jockey without a mount was automatically out of the race.
The blond looked up, using an hand to shield his eyes. It had been suspiciously long since the last time he had spotted another rider. It would have been nice and easy to dismiss the fact as a mere evidence of his abilities, but while somewhat arrogant, Diego was not a fool. In a place and time like that, just about anything could have happened, from a battle to blocked path. Of course, if that was the case, it could only mean good for him, but it was better to stay in alert. He knew there were some racers who had a particular interest into facing him, two in particular.
And in that case, the feeling was mutual.
After an endless hour spent lost in that white desert, finally something of different excited his senses. Hoofs slowly making their ways into the snow. The frequency of the steps was not unfamiliar, and Dio smiled a little. It wasn’t exactly content, but something of slightly darker and more confused found the discovery to be alluring.
That was his rival, Johnny, coming straight toward him, be it by will or accident.
It looked like his beloved friend was not with him, and the British jockey wondered if luck hadn’t been by his side, separating the two in a way or the other.
Anyway, he felt the urge to slow down his horse, eager to face the other. That was a risk, he knew it, but Diego felt the need to have that confrontation. He preferred to not explore the reasons behind it, and simply turned back facing the path his rival had to tread, hoping he’d arrive soon.
Right behind him the snow had cancelled Silver Bullet’s steps, leaving little to witness their passage. For some reason, it caused a shiver to cross his spine.
As Johnny’s silhouette became more and more clear, Diego’s smirk grew. He knew the other must have noticed him by now. But unless he was willing to go back with all the risks of the case, his rival was basically forced to ride toward him. And he did. But not without showing his dislike for the situation, and the unwanted company itself.
“What do you want? That’s not a good moment to start a fight.” Johnny spit out bluntly, as soon as he was near enough to discern his expression.
“Why, your friend left you? I’m amazed.”
The American Boy’s grasp around the reins tightened. But although he sent him an hostile look, filled by disgust, he made no attempt to reply or start an argument. Instead, a quick order made Slow Dancer increase her speed.
For just a second Diego observed the white spotted horse as she passed by his side, moving his eyes toward her rider. Being ignored was something he did not appreciate. Not when he was willingly trying to start something.
“You can ignore me as much as you want, but this road leads to only one path. I won’t attack you, if that’s what you fear now that you’re alone. If you haven’t noticed it, the weather is about to worsen and I’d rather not be taken by the storm in the middle of nowhere. Dealing with you is not worth freezing to death.”
He waited for an answer, looking at the other in an attempt to read a reaction of any kind. For a moment Johnny’s upper body tensed. Maybe he had realized what his words meant, or maybe it was just a shown of dislike for his presence itself. Still, it was something.
Inciting his stallion to accelerate, Diego moved ahead, turning slightly to get a glimpse of his rival’s expression. Hate. Antagonism. And something of melancholic hidden underneath. It probably was due to his friend’s absence, and with a distant curiosity he wondered what had happened to Gyro. The possibilities of Johnny willingly revealing that, though, were slimmer than an hair.
In many instances, Dio was sure the boy would have attacked him. Although his comments were soon cut off by the precariousness of the situation, the burning glances the other sent, led him to believe Johnny was that close to shooting him. Not that it would have been easy, of course.
But that silent confrontation, that had grown to be a bother relatively fast, leaving Diego to blame whatever had brought him to slow down, was forced to stop when it became clear going on would have been a death sentence.
With the wind and snowfall having increased, it was hard to see straight and the cold was growing more unbearable as time passed. None of them dared to speak, to busy trying to cover themselves and guiding their now tired horses. The animals were, in fact, growing slower. They had to struggle in order to advance, and that was quickly consuming their stamina.
Diego’s regret reached the peak, when a new series of gloomy thoughts flood his mind. Excluding an “accident” he had had as child, few times after his mother’s demise, he had never truly feared death. It was an unpleasant idea, yes, but it had never felt this close and imminent. Normally, there was a chance to fight back. There was someone to fight, in a way or the other.
But now? It wasn’t that easy.
Right next to him, Johnny looked around uneasily, desperately trying to shield his eyes with an hand. Although the position partially hid his face, it was clear discomfort was taking over. But in his case, his worries weren’t only egoistical. Gyro was not there. They had been separated in an accident caused by the wind.
They were crossing a particularly dangerous route. The trial ran along a small hill, and the right side of it ended culminated in a dangerous ditch. Several meters separated it from the soil.
During one of the harsher moments, The Italian’s horse ,confused by the snow that hit her muzzle, had fallen of the edge, dragging her owner along. Luckily the snow had softened the fall, preventing major injuries. But it had soon been clear there was no way for Gyro to get back on the pathway. Despite this, he had reassured Johnny, sure they would have found a way to meet each other later on.
And so, trusting his companion’s words, the American jockey had moved on.
Unfortunately things weren’t as easy as he thought. Soon, the trial cut for a road that prevented him from seeing Gyro and in the end, after a long half an hour of solitude, he had met the least person he wanted to have around, Dio. Dying with him as his only company sounded awful, but Johnny’s thought flew toward Gyro as well. Had he found a shelter from the storm?
He could almost feel Diego’s eyes on him, and it filled him with rage. What did he event want from him? They were about to die, or at least risked too, so what was the reason behind that inquiring glance? Johnny had always dismissed him as an hungered individual ready to take everything he needed with force and wit, but now, his mind, almost blurry from the chaos that surrounded him, half wondered what went through his mind. He had the unpleasant sensation he would have discovered it soon. Maybe his rival wanted to take few satisfactions before their demise…The sole idea disgusted him.
Feeling his spite growing more and more, Johnny turned toward the slightly taller male and sent him a stare that compressed all his resentful feelings. If only stares could burn, the Dio would have been on fire.
But the their struggle wasn’t destined to last long, as a silhouette signaled the presence of a building of some sort in the distance. Even with those awful condition, the badly assorted pair could not miss it. None of them said anything, but there was no need to.
There was hope.