Fantasy Fire and Ice

[Pink Venom]

WINTER

---

It was an easy task, more or less. Truly, the only thing Winter had struggled with a bit was finding a good hiding spot for the extra jewels he’d taken. He’d left his satchel at home. A careless mistake on his part. Nonetheless, he hid the goods in a spot he knew they wouldn’t look.

“Here you go, pretty boy.” the orc towered over him, his beady eyes contrasted against the purple skin as they watched the fox’s every move with careful distrust. The creature was far from pretty, but Winter wasn’t exactly honest. One large, calloused hand reached for the stolen jewels that were held out, a low growl leaving its body as they were pulled out of reach again. “Although-“

“If you value your life, you’d think twice before trying any tricks on me pretty boy.” The large creature warned in a low, imposing growl, throwing Winter’s remark back at him. Though he didn’t move from his spot, another slightly smaller orc stood off to the side watching the interaction, possibly ready to strike if backup was needed. Most underestimated Winter based on his looks alone, but fellow Yokai knew their own kind better than anyone. And Winter didn’t exactly value his own life enough to head the warnings.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, darlin’.” His words were laced with careful charisma, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. The men seemed unamused, but didn’t give much of a response. “I just happen to know these jewels are worth four times the amount that you’re paying me for stealing them. I risked my life back there, you know?” The orc remained silent, only exchanging a short look before the leader of the two reached into one of his many pockets, pulling out two small cloth bags, holding them just out of reach.

“Arms out, legs apart.” the large creature ordered. Winter’s brows rose just the slightest bit, but he complied, making way for the large hands to search his body. The sharp fox eyes watched with dubious confidence that the hidden goods wouldn’t be found, making sure to add in a flirtatious comment for good measure.

“If you wanted to feel me up, you could’ve just asked.” His sultry tone brought the orc’s movements to a halt, just in time to catch Winter’s unassuming wink. After a couple more seconds of the pat down, the man straightened, holding the small bags out for display.

“I’ll double your payment…if you give me what’s in your pocket.” Winter’s limbs relaxed, a hearty chuckle leaving his person. One hand reached into his right jacket pocket, pulling out an extra couple of jewels in the form of a necklace and matching bracelet.

“Nothing gets past you, does it big boy?” He let the jewelry fall into the bag that contained the rest, handing it over and taking the payment in return. He checked both bags carefully before storing it into the same pocket that had held the jewels. “It’s been an absolute pleasure.” Not much else was said. The orc took their stolen goods, agreeing to not hire Winter again. It wasn’t anything personal, aside from Winter’s own personal rule to stay away from those he’d screwed over. The moment the two tried selling the jewels they’d realize they’d ended up paying Winter more than what said jewels would give them. They were valuable, but not as valuable as they were made to believe.

Once he was a safe distance away from the meeting place, about halfway to his own home, his steps came to a slow halt. The hidden jewels had slid down a bit with his movements and were beginning to irritate his skin around the inner thigh. Thankfully, the pants were tight enough to keep them from falling. He reached in past the waistline, plucking the jewels from their hidden spot between the fabric of his undergarments and skin. As he suspected, the only place the orc did not pat down. A triumphant smirk molded his lips as he looked them over. They were genuine, no doubt about it, and to the right buyer, likely worth a small fortune. The team would surely get a kick out of this.

After being carefully placed into one of his empty pockets, he continued his trek. The air was colder than usual for this time of year. Not as low of a temperature as Winter liked, but it would do. He reached back to pull the thin ribbon from his hair, letting it cascade over his ears, framing his sharp features. The breeze ruffled up a few strands. It felt nice, but not quite right. Something lingered around him. Something that wasn’t supposed to be there. Making enemies was not something Winter ever worked to avoid, so it wasn’t unlikely that one of them had followed him here. His senses were on high alert, keen gaze looking past the few flurries of snow that had begun to fall, waiting for whatever it was that was lingering to make their move.

 

[vada]

KAIVEN

---

Kaiven knelt on the hard ground, wiping the blood from his knife on his pant leg. It wasn’t exactly proper cleaning etiquette, but now wasn’t the time for protocol. It was the time for quick action and pacification. He tried to ease the frown etching his face - a face that wasn’t so easy to smooth - and he looked to his left, to the pretty blonde woman staring at him with green eyes the size of saucers. She was trembling terribly, her teeth chattering as she clutched her knees to her dress, trying to hide the rip in the fabric.

“It’s alright… you’re alright,” Kai tried in a gentle voice. “No one is going to hurt you now.”

It wasn’t exactly believable, he knew that. He was a giant compared to her, bloodstained and armed, and she was.. well, exposed. Vulnerable. Shaken. He couldn’t really blame her. Not many people could survive a demon attack and not be shaken.

Kaiven had been hunting this particular demon for the last two days. It wasn’t his main mission, but it had been impossible for him to ignore. Word had spread throughout a nearby village, of a demon who was kidnapping young, unmarried women from their beds in the dead of night. Well, Kaiven wasn’t having that.

Tracking the demon into the surrounding forestry, he watched and waited for the tell-tale signs. It hadn’t taken long for him to find the lair. The stench alone would have drawn him even if he hadn’t been tracking. A cave made into a makeshift shelter, filled with the rotting remains of unidentifiable women, their mangled forms clearly being feasted upon by the demon - and this was a surprise for Kaiven - its hellspawn. Three of them, deformed little things crawling over each other to get to their food, so grotesque in their forms that Kai could barely tell where one started and the others ended.

He hadn’t relished killing them, as they weren’t grown enough to spill human blood, and could, technically, be considered innocent. But he knew what they would become if he spared them. So he’d done it quickly and painlessly, then hunkered down to wait for ‘Mommy’.

Just as he’d started to doze, tired of sitting on the cold ground with his back to a tree, the high pitched shrieks of a nearby woman roused him, his adrenaline instantly spiking. The demon crashed into the clearing at the mouth of the cave, throwing the woman to the ground as it immediately caught the scent of blood in the air. What followed was neither quick nor painless. It was dirty, tiring, and frustrating. But Kaiven finally killed the monster, and the mark on his wrist tingled slightly in response to the death. He knew it would grow darker, becoming more and more noticeable to the naked eye, but that, like the cleaning of his weapons, was a matter for another time.

Sheathing the knife, he inched closer to the young woman, shushing her quietly. “You’re safe now. It’s dead.”

It took several minutes to calm the frantic woman, as she threw herself into his arms and sobbed against his chest. Kaiven did everything his mother would have wanted him to. He patted her back, whispered reassurances, and even rocked her for a while once she’d finally settled down. He was patient and kind, understanding, and then… he was done.

Because, there, on the wind, was something else. He couldn’t describe it or explain it, and over the years he had tried. But he knew what it was, either way. His prey.

“Miss,” he whispered, his voice becoming stern. “You need to get off me now.” Using gentle but firm hands, he pried the woman’s arms from around his neck and looked her in the eyes. “Can you make it home?”

She blinked at him, fear and exhaustion making her gaze bleary. “Home?”

Kaiven nodded, his face setting in a stern expression. “Yes. Home. C’mon, I need you to get up..” He pulled her to her feet, allowing her a second or two to steady herself, then he gave her a gentle nudge in the direction of the village. “Listen to me, okay? Run. Run, and don’t look back.”

She stumbled slightly, but seemed to pick up on the urgency in his voice. Moving on wobbling legs, the woman ran off and Kaiven slipped into hunting mode once more, disappearing among the trees as soft white flakes began to fall from the sky.

In a matter of minutes, he had closed the distance between him and his target, hanging back just enough to study the white haired male. He was smaller, more delicate than Kaiven had expected. Of course, he had never come face-to-face with a Kitsune, but somehow, after two years, he had expected… more. Still, Kaiven wasn’t foolish enough to take someone’s appearance for granted.

Weapons in hand, he moved forward on quiet feet, the eerie silence of falling snow surrounding them. This wouldn’t be like the others. He couldn’t just kill and bag the beastie, then move on. No, they wanted this one back. Kaiven had permission to do whatever it took to capture him, except kill him. They wanted him alive, and it wasn’t Kai’s job to question, just to obey. So he needed to be careful. Don’t kill the pretty fox thing.

Almost casually, he cleared his throat as he made his own presence known. In his blood splattered clothes, knives drawn and face creased with concentration, he was sure his identity was pretty obvious.

“Any chance you’ll make this easy and come with me willingly?” Kaiven asked, a white cloud puff leaving his lips as he spoke. “It’s been a long day, and I’m somewhat tired.”

 

[Pink Venom]

The flurries that fell around him melted the moment they hit the ground. It wasn’t yet cold enough to stick, and it was windy. The breeze carried that familiar scent as it hit Winter’s nostrils. He’d been around their kind enough times to recognize them by smell alone. A fox’s scent was never mistaken. In theory, Winter could have outran the harbinger. He could’ve fled, leaving the man chasing after his tracks once again. Today, he was in high spirits. A little fun and exercise with one of the royal guard dogs would do him some good.

So he stood, leaning against one of the nearby trees, and waited for his company to catch up. It didn’t take very long, though not surprising. The man’s appearance was also what he’d expected. He was rather handsome, and admittedly, Winter always had a weak spot for emotionally detached men. What did raise his brows a bit was what the man said. From the sound of it, he’d been ordered to capture WInter instead of simply killing him.

Interesting.

He supposed the royal family and their brainwashed followers still held a grudge against him after all, likely looking to finish what they’d started. Winter’s lips formed into a cold smirk, his keen eyes examining the knight from head to toe as he gave his response.

“Oh my. Buff, brooding and bloody. My favorite.” His words dripped with mocking mischief, hands nonchalantly resting in his pockets as he pushed himself off the tree trunk. He took note of the weapons in the man’s possession, undoubtedly made specifically to kill monsters like himself. The hypocrisy that came from that species and everything they stood for never ceased to amaze Winter. How anyone could be so blindly loyal was beyond him. He would honestly rather die than live for anyone other than himself.

“Quite the odd way to ask someone out on a date, don’t you think?”

Though his words were relaxed, he kept his guard up, knowing the man would strike at any moment. It was exciting, he had to admit. He hadn’t had a real challenge in a very long time. It was frankly starting to get a little boring. Getting to kill such a handsome face would be almost therapeutic. Winter’s thoughts relished in the idea as he took a few small steps forward, a pair of white ears sprouting from underneath his hair, inviting an attack.

“But alas, I’m not that easy, darling.” he commented, making sure his pockets were securely closed to keep his hard earned black cash in place. His nails were replaced with sharp claws, tails sprouting behind his back all at once, not unlike snakes looking for their next meal. “You’ll have to try harder.”

 

[vada]

Kaiven had to admit, he was somewhat taken aback. Not because he had expected the kitsune to actually make it easy for him, because he hadn’t, but he also hadn’t expected the teasing accusations. Snide remarks and sarcasm were actually quite common among the creatures he hunted, but none of them had ever crossed the line into romantic territory, not even mockingly so.

A light frown formed between his brows. He had a handsome face, in spite of being sun-beaten and creased from a scowl that seemed to perpetually mar his features. Some could call it a look of deep concentration, solemnity, or stoicism, but in reality, Kaiven was just severely unhappy with his lot in life, and he’d never had a terribly believable poker face. This was mainly because… well, who was there to lie to? To impress? To pacify? No one. So why did he care how his face fell?

Snow drifted to land in his hair and eyelashes as he watched the man approach, making note of the way his body shifted; the ears, the tails, the claws. He steeled himself, sighing softly as he resigned himself to a second fight in the same day. It wasn’t that he couldn’t, just that he didn’t want to. But that came with the mantle, didn’t it? Just part of the job. He had to do things he didn’t like, with honour and dignity, and without complaint. And besides, this was his big fish, found at long last. Once he was done, once he had delivered this pest into the hands of the king’s guard, he might get to go home for a few days.

Home.

When was the last time he had been back? He couldn’t remember, but that didn’t matter right now, because the end was finally in sight. The thought actually brought a rare smile to his lips, softening his features ever so slightly despite the approaching danger.

“Alright then,” he said as he gave his shoulders a few light shrugs to loosen up the muscles there. “Let’s get this over with.”

Moving forward with an otherworldly speed and agility, the blades of Kaiven’s dual hunting knives glinted in the fading light as he attacked, harsh in the soft greying scenery around them.

 

[Pink Venom]

The frown that painted the man’s face was an unusual one. It wasn’t unlike Harbingers to show displeasure when forced to fight Winter. He recalled the ones he’d killed on his way out of captivity. They all looked at him the same way. With so much disgust and disdain, like he was a worthless insect not worth their time or effort. Underestimated time and time again. It worked to his advantage, of course. One of the many reasons he’d chosen the appearance he had. Catch them off guard, and slit their throat when they least expect it. The look of horror on their faces just before his claws and teeth sliced through their flesh was almost addictive.

But it was the lack of repugnance in this one’s features that made Winter wonder if he should kill the man or simply leave him with a souvenir. A reminder of their encounter today. His deep rooted thirst for revenge didn’t always blind him. Was this man even worth killing? It was the words that left his mouth just before attacking that raised a brow or two. He didn’t want to be there. Whether it was due to his disinterest in fighting or his disinterest in Winter himself didn’t matter much, he was reluctant nonetheless.

The fox’s feet moved to match the other’s speed, catching a glimpse of the sun’s reflection against the blades in his peripherals. If the man had been ordered to capture Winter instead of simply killing him, then Winter would humor it for a bit. See how far he could push the man’s limits before he decided to disobey his orders. If he couldn’t kill or escape the harbinger, then he’d make sure to get himself killed. Dying was preferable to being forced to go back there again.

“Woah, there. Try to contain your excitement a little.” Sarcasm was a Yokai’s default language, and surely something the hunter was used to.

The knives missed his body by small margins, each one dangerously close to breaking skin. The last swing tore into Winter’s jacket sleeve, leaving a cut on his upper arm just deep enough to bleed for a few seconds before it healed itself up as if it had never been there, nowhere near enough to cause any pain or discomfort. Still, it wouldn’t be Winter if he didn’t react dramatically.

“Slow down, darling. We’ve only just met-” The taunting of his words blended with the breeze as they moved around one another in their dance of life and death.

His usual smirk lined his delicate features as the flurries of snow began to pick up. Some of them stuck to the ground for a bit longer before vanishing, others landed on Winter’s tails, hair and ears, perfectly blending with the white furr and locks that accented his body. Another swing of the hunter’s blades nearly hit. Taking the opportunity, one of his tails wrapped around the base of the man’s feet to throw him off balance, or at least slow him down a few seconds. A hand reached for the dagger that rested on his belt, while the other swung full force, knife-like claws straight for the opening that left the man’s torso unprotected.

 

[vada]

Harbingers didn’t wear armour, not in the typical sense. They were knights, but their own branch, and they didn’t don the clanging confining metal contraptions worn by the King’s Guard. They were much too cumbersome, and in truth, entirely unnecessary. Harbingers couldn’t be injured as easily as mortal men. Their skin was thicker, more resilient against weapons, both man made and gods given.

So when Kaiven felt the kitsune’s razor sharp claws sink into his unprotected chest, he used it to his advantage. Knowing he would recover from even something as drastic as a punctured lung, he forced the distance between them to shrink. He closed a large fist around the fabric of his prey’s shirt as he at once pulled him closer and shoved himself forward, roughly knocking them both to the frozen ground. Resilient or not, it did hurt, and a sharp hiss of pain escaped Kaiven’s lips as the kitsune’s claws sank deeper into his chest, being driven in further by the act of falling and hitting the ground so forcefully.

Having had to drop one of his knives to grip the shirt, Kaiven pressed the blade of his remaining knife against the kitsune’s ribcage, his free hand closing around his slender throat. With the tip of the blade sinking into cold skin, Kaiven could feel the warmth of blood leaking from the wound, along with the five in his chest, but he didn’t ease up. Instead, he frowned stonily at the smaller man from above, his breath coming in fast, white huffs.

“Still want to do this the hard way?” he asked. His hand on the man’s throat was tight, but not so much so as to cut off his breathing. He didn’t want to kill him after all, just get him to stop. moving. Kaiven’s eyes, a strange shade somewhere between light brown and green, held a note of pity, sympathy, perhaps regret, but his features remained creased with a deep frown. “I don’t relish this. I don’t want to hurt you. But if you keep fighting, I will have no other choice.”

 

[Pink Venom]

It wasn’t the first time he’d been in this situation, and it would not be the last. Winter had once found himself at the darkest depths of the lion’s den, surrounded by men much like this one. They too, refused to kill him, dragging out every form of physical torture they could think of. At one point, had even left him for dead. There was no one there to help him, and his lack of physical strength would've put him at a disadvantage. But he healed, he got up and he escaped. Fueled by every drop of hatred for those that had hurt him. Anything this man did, no matter how brutal, would pale in comparison.

Even as the weight of the hunter’s body shoved him against the ground, his back soaking in the cold. Even as the hand gripped his throat while a blade cut through his flesh, Winter was not shaken. While the blade driving into his ribcage hurt, it would heal the moment the knife was pulled out. Not knowing how much this man knew about kitsunes, Winter had to assume he knew everything. Underestimating was always his enemies’ first mistake, one he wouldn’t make himself.

He did, however, stop moving. Assuming that’s what the man wanted. Using the pain from the wound, he schooled his features into a mask of fear. Winter wasn’t heartless. He’d both felt and seen fear before. He knew what it was supposed to look like. Slowly, his eyes grew larger with the feigned emotion, gleaming in the traces of sunlight that came through the trees, a few tears rolling down his delicate features. And there, in the man’s eyes, was his weak point. A hint of pity playing off his words, untraceable to the normal human eye, but Winter has absorbed enough of their energy to know. Their emotions would always be their weakness.

“Please…I-” his voice shook like a damsel in distress, playing on any droplet of sympathy he could pull from the man. And once his grip loosened ever so slightly, all at once, Winter’s hand reached for his own blade as quickly as the smirk appeared on his face, every trace of emotion evaporating into the cold breeze. The blade sunk into the harbinger’s back like butter. A quick tug of the handle had it detaching from the blade, outstretching into a whip-like cord that wrapped around the man’s neck. He pulled the cord tighter around the man’s throat, enough to cut off air supply for as long as it took to loosen his grip on Winter's throat..

Blood flooded both their clothes the second the claws were yanked out from the other’s chest. His now free hand took hold of the one that held the knife in, twisting it ever-so-slightly. He could escape now, if he wished to, but something kept Winter in place. Perhaps it was the thrill of the fight. The kind he hadn’t felt in years. He had a real challenge for once, and he wasn’t ready to let it go just yet.

“-forgot to mention…” his voice no longer quivered, a bit breathless, but still returning to its previous bravado, eyes shining with mischief as they locked with the harbinger's. “-I like it rough.” A slight pull of the rope brought the man's face closer as he added. "Do your worst, darling."

 

[vada]

At first, Kaiven’s frown merely deepened. He wasn’t so easily fooled, and he didn’t buy into the kitsune’s sudden change of heart or expression of fear. But as the moment stretched on, a shred of doubt crept into the annoyance he felt, and he relaxed, just a hair. That was all it took, it seemed, for his prey to gain the upperhand.

A pained cry of alarm escaped Kai’s lips as the blade sank into his back, sinking further than even he could easily heal. A cough brought blood to his lips, eyes widening in surprise as he was pulled down closer to the other man’s face, the whip encircling his neck forcing him to relax his grip on his throat. Instead, his hand moved to ball in the fabric of his shirt, closing in a tight fist that he pressed to the frozen ground, effectively keeping the man pinned without actually hurting him.

But then, true anger welled up inside of Kaiven. This was never supposed to be an easy hunt, he knew that. But he had tried to be lenient, holding back not once, but twice, because he didn’t exactly triumph in any of this. Killing wicked, heartless beings that hurt or killed humans was one thing. Capturing one that he knew next to nothing about and relinquishing them into the hands of those who would most certainly torture and then kill them… that was not what he had signed up for. And so, in an attempt to remain a good person with a shitty job, he had gone easy on the man beneath him - a lot easier than any other Harbinger would have been.

So when he was rewarded for his patience by being literally stabbed in the back, his gaze instantly darkened with anger. All bets were off now. Staring into the eyes of the kitsune from just mere inches away, his voice rumbled past his lips in an irritated growl, “How’s this for rough?” A heartbeat later, the razor sharp knife was driven deep into the being’s chest, being tilted up for maximum effectiveness. Kaiven felt the pressure of the blade puncturing a lung as it sank clear up to the hilt.

There was no enjoyment, no victory or smugness in his face. Just determination to end this before one of them ended up dead. “Stop resisting,” he urged, small droplets of blood spraying from his stained lips and onto his opponent’s face. His voice was still angry, determined, but there was still a note of pleading there, a clear indication that he did not like any of this. “Just stop already.”

 

[Pink Venom]

He never asked for pity, nor did want it. Winter knew this kind well. Self-righteous and haughty. They thought so highly of themselves, looking down on anyone that wasn’t like them, and surely having the fox in their possession was just another notch to their victory belt. Killing Winter would not be enough for them. It was the anger on the man’s face after being stabbed in the back that reminded him of that. The blood spluttered past his lips, his words lacing with the frigid air surrounding them. Whether he was angry over Winter’s lack of cooperation, or the fact that he would likely be reprimanded if he showed up empty handed, didn’t matter to him.

Unlike the harbinger, Winter owed loyalty and explanations to no one. The only thing keeping him from killing this man was himself. And perhaps he should have when he had the chance instead of following impulsive desires for a good time.

The excruciating pain of being stabbed right in the chest came all at once, racing through his veins. A cry escaped Winter from the lowest depths of his soul, both out of pain and surprise, immediately feeling the restriction of oxygen. He coughed violently a few times, blood rising past his lips within seconds. His muscles burned like hell fire, a feeling he was all too familiar with. He’d been here before, and he’d be back here again. So long as he existed, so did the target on his back.

It was his unwavering will power and rage that kept Winter’s grip on the whip around the other’s neck even as every nerve in his body cried for help. A challenge is what he wanted, and that’s what he’d gotten. But now, he’d officially grown tired of it. The fun was over.

For a fraction of a second, the man’s request almost sounded like a plea, and winter wondered what part of him ever thought a kitsune was the type to surrender. The fool. It was obvious now that this man knew nothing about him or his kind. Anything was preferable to giving in. Even death itself. But Winter wasn’t prepared to die here. He would continue to live out spite for everyone that wanted him dead. He refused to burn until he knew the world would be burning down with him.

“Hah-“ his breaths came out in huffs, his icy glare locking with the storms that stared back at him. “I- would rather- die-!” The ivory tails wrapped around the man’s body like constrictors, keeping his limbs tightly in place as the blade was pulled from his back and they tumbled over. The movement filled every crevice of Winter’s body with agony, bringing out a quie hiss.

This was nothing, he was quick to remind himself. He’d survived much worse.

The whip keeping hold of the man’s neck was replaced by a tail as Winter’s thighs straddled the hips beneath him. One hand pressed to the frozen ground, the other firmly gripped the man’s jaw, claws digging into the skin enough to draw small droplets of blood. He leaned in, even when the blade pressing between the harbinger’s chest and his own brought a new strike of pain, the smirk still formed his blood stained lips.

“Such a shame… our date has to end early-“ breathing was becoming more difficult with every passing second. Winter had no choice but to retreat this time. “Here, let me make it up to you…” in an instant, his lips pressed to the man’s, the taste of iron and sweat mixing with that sweet scent of human energy Winter loved. He could feel the energy leaving the man’s body and entering his own, an immediate relief. He pulled away just before the man was drained dry, yanking the blade from his own chest with a groan and driving it into the ground beside the hunter’s head.

The sensation of his wound beginning to heal was his queue to leave. He rose to his feet as the tails unraveled, realizing he could have easily killed him in that moment. Perhaps he was losing his spirits, or perhaps the idea of getting to see that face again was too tempting to pass up. There was no doubt once recovered, the harbinger would come after him again.

“See you next time, darling.” With that, he vanished into the thick layers of the frozen forest that surrounded them, rushing through the first few miles of snow and mountains, until he was certain the hunter was no longer on his trail.

 

[vada]

Kaiven couldn’t have chased after the Kitsune if his life depended on it. Between the stab wound on his back that was steadily seeping hot blood into the frozen earth beneath him, and the literal kiss of death, he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

He was left to gasp and swear at the heavens, vowing that he would, in one way or another, make his enemy pay. That was, if he lived to see the light of day. The world swam and darkened and slipped away from his grasp. The Harbinger, left to die, disappeared under an ocean of darkness, unmoving and quiet as snow fell to blanket him.

Kaiven’s dreams were haunted with the face of the Kitsune, leering at him, taunting him, mocking him. And then the kiss. It had drained his life force away, slowed his heart until it barely beat, darkening his vision and effectively crippling him. And yet, he dreamt of the heat of the Kitsune’s lips against his own. A fiery heat that threatened to consume as easily as it could kill.

All the while, his body slowly but surely knit itself back together. Harbingers were notoriously hard to kill, and the Kitsune had come pretty damn close to ending his life. But he had been left on the brink of death, and in time, he could come back from even that. Of course, it wasn’t an easy process, nor a quick one. Kaiven slept there, in the snow covered forest, for a day and a night, and another day after that. When he finally awoke, he felt groggy, confused, and cold.

And pissed.

Pushing himself to his feet, Kaiven took a few moments to gather his bearings and then made the trek back to the village inn. He needed to fetch his horse and his gear, and then he would start all over again. Back at square one, tracking the being that had turned his life into a living nightmare. As one would expect, Kaiven spent a lot of time swearing, grumbling and arguing with the sky. It wasn’t like anyone else listened to him.

Once he was on the road again, Kaiven calmed down somewhat. This was just part of the job he reminded himself. And unfortunately, it wasn’t a part-time job. This was for life. So he may as well go ahead and get used to it, right? Except it wasn’t the life he wanted. And even though he had always known this might be a possibility, it had never been an easy pill for him to swallow. He wanted freedom, adventure, peace. But he needed to accept that those things just weren’t in the cards for him. He needed to buck up, and do what he was meant to do.

So, as he rode out of town a few days later, he felt, if not acceptance, at least, resignation. He would find that damned Kitsune. He certainly would not go easy on him again. He would turn him over to the crown, And he would continue on in his life of servitude. Unphased, Unbothered, No hesitation or regret.

It was that simple.

Wasn’t it?

 

[Pink Venom]

Admittedly, the harbinger had done more damage than Winter had prepared for. Albeit part of it was his own fault for toying with the man instead of simply killing him. It was more entertaining that way, but perhaps a bit too close to actual danger. The trudge up the snowy mountains had been more laborious than usual during the first hour or so, while Winter’s body worked to piece itself back together. He did take a few breaks in between, giving his lungs a chance to recover. The man’s stolen energy had been exactly the boost he needed. Thanks to the hunter almost dying, Winter was able to recover in no time.

The mountain cabin had never felt more welcoming. He slipped in through the secret door, discarding all his clothing at the entrance as usual. The fireplace often kept the rooms a bit too toasty for his liking, so going about his day with little to no clothing on his body was the norm. One of the many perks of living alone. There was no one to badger him about what he could and couldn't do. No one there to guilt trip him about using stolen goods and money to pamper himself. The day’s riches were placed into the chest for safe keeping, along with the rest. He’d have to find a good buyer for the jewels. For now, he’d keep them.

It wasn’t until he was settled into the warm water, his skin soaking in the bath salts, that his mind drifted back to the forest. That look on the harbinger’s face. In between the anger and frustration, there was something Winter didn’t often see from their kind. Sure, he had been ordered to capture the kitsune and not kill him. But there was something else behind the reluctant obedience that almost had winter believing the man didn’t want to kill him either. On the other hand, Winter could have. The moment he pinned the man to the ground could have been his triumph. Just a few more seconds, and life would have been drained from the harbingers body. And eventually, he’d do just that, but as of right now, the game of cat and mouse was too enticing to give up.

Days passed before he returned to the crew. The moment he stepped foot into their usual bar a cascade of hoots and hollers broke out. Most of them seemed happy to have Winter back. A select few were probably happier without him. He decided to promptly ignore them, requesting a drink from the bartender as he settled into a stool.

“We thought you’d been killed, boss. What the hell have you been doing?” it was a question he expected, and one he didn’t plan on answering. His slender fingers wrapped around the cold glass, eyes flickering over to the curious shifter beside him.

“Business.” The simple answer got a grunt out of the man. Another joined the conversation amidst the noise of the bar attendees.

“What kind of business?”

“None of yours.” The men snorted in resignation, taking the drinks handed to them as they silently agreed to not press on any further. They’d grown used to it by now. Winter never shared anything with them that they did not need to know. Most of the time, they didn’t complain. Save a few that always seemed to have a problem with the kitsune keeping his personal life private. He didn’t see a need to share such details when it did not affect them in the slightest. “How’s it looking tonight?”

The two men exchanged a look, synchronized in their movements even down to the sly smirk, as Winter downed the rest of his drink waiting for the answer he expected.

“The only thing missing was you.”

There was something so satisfying about knowing he was needed to an extent. He was often the mastermind behind their destruction. Even knowing they could carry out the plans without him, they still chose not to. Perhaps he’d unintentionally gained their loyalty, or they were simply too afraid to do it on their own. Whatever the case may be, the moment Winter returned to them, the rebellion continued. In perhaps one of their biggest acts of defiance yet, the crew managed to demolish and burn down multiple royal guard bases. Poisoned goods headed for the castle. Even managed to get a couple more fae recruits.

Winter himself had been in charge of taking down the king’s men. After facing off with that harbinger in the mountains, the task felt almost too easy. Killing those men hadn’t brought Winter any satisfaction, and he soon found himself wandering on his own after the chaos had begun to die down, looking for something to occupy his time. Admittedly, he’d let his guard down just the slightest bit, unfortunately enough to find himself in a pit. He had a feeling the orc would come back to get even, but they’d brought a mighty amount of backup.

“All this for little ol’ me?” He remained calm, despite being very obviously outnumbered. Whether they intended to kill him or simply ‘Teach him a lesson’ was still unclear. Until he knew how far they’d go, Winter did not make a move. “I have to say I’m flattered.”

“You think you’re real cute, huh?” The familiar face and voice spat at him. The ring of goons towered around him. Winter’s nose wrinkled in amusement, all the while looking for the fastest escape route. Even he was not stupid enough to attempt taking on this many angry yokai at once.

“I like to think so, yeah.” His snarky remark didn’t sit well with them, catapulting a few of them towards the fox with the rage of a hurricane. Note to self: Orcs did not take well to being deceived. As it were, Winter’s speed almost tripled theirs. He was able to evade the majority of hits thrown his way. Until he wasn’t, and an unexpected punch to the jaw set him off balance enough to be captured by one of the large men behind him who smelled of beer and grime. It wasn’t the first time he’d landed himself in a situation such as this, and had gotten himself out of it before. Surely, he could do it again. The question now was…how?

 

[vada]

Kaiven slipped back into a routine of sorts. Tracking the Kitsune, now that they had both spilled the other’s blood, was far easier than it had been thus far. Generally, Harbingers are damn good hunters. With the mantle came a number of perks, some of which were more annoying than others. Every single Harbinger had an internal compass of sorts that guided them in the direction of their prey. It could be vague at times, or scattered when there was a surge of nonhuman activity, but once blood was spilled, it changed. Kaiven and the Kitsune were, for lack of a better word, bonded, until one killed the other. No matter where the Kitsune ran, from here to the ends of the realms, Kaiven would find him. It was a persistent pulling at his chest and mind, at times practically dragging him in the right direction. Ignoring it, as some Harbingers had attempted in the past, was lethal. Kaiven would be driven mad if he didn’t fulfil his duty, and an insane Harbinger was more dangerous than any being they hunted.

Still, that didn’t mean Kaiven couldn’t take some time. As long as he was actively moving in the same direction as the Kitsune, he would move at his own pace, even stop for an evening or two when he came across a secluded waterfall that just begged to be climbed. Kaiven was a Harbinger, yes, but first and foremost, he was an adventurer. He loved to be out in nature, hiking and exploring. It was the only time in his life that he felt any sense of peace. Of course, that peace was often disturbed when he was in his element and ended up crossing paths with a beastie. On those days, his sense of purpose was shattered, and he was left wondering if he’d ever have a normal life. Thankfully, the cosmos seemed to deem him worthy of a break, and for a few days, Kaiven explored, swam, made tea from berries, and watched the sunsets and moonrises to his heart’s content.

It was the break he needed to recenter himself after his interaction with the Kitsune. The weight of that exchange had been heavy on his mind, in spite of his attempts to find acceptance. Something about the entire situation bothered him, even though he couldn’t put his finger on what, exactly, that was. Maybe it was the dream, which replayed in his mind every time he closed his eyes for the night. The heat of the man’s lips against his own felt like a branding, all these days later. It was infuriating, and blasphemous. Harbingers didn’t have a lot of rules, but anyone with half a brain knew the very first rule was to never ever get romantically involved with nonhumans. Kaiven himself had learned this the hard way, the excruciating, heart-shattering way, and it wasn’t a lesson he was likely to forget any time soon. So, why couldn’t he scrub the image from his mind?

Kaiven was still pondering this days later. He had been back on the Kitsune’s path, riding horseback at a leisurely pace. He wasn’t in any kind of rush to see him again, not when he’d be faced with killing a man he couldn’t stop dreaming about. It wasn’t going to be a pleasant experience, and so he was putting it off as best he could. Already, he had deviated from the trail to kill a group of rogue vampires, and a lamia feeding on the men of a military outpost. He pitied the poor bastards who had been foolish enough to let her past their barricades, but he understood. Mortal men stood no chance against the powers of the supernatural.

From there, Kaiven was pointed toward a group of rebels who were decimating hoards of royal guards. He could feel the Kitsune’s presence among them, could almost taste his scent in the air surrounding the broken bodies of the king’s men. Death was all around him as he walked through the ruined bases. The stench of death, of bloodied, burning bodies was practically suffocating, urging Kaiven to pull a cloth mask up and over his nose, hiding his identity while saving his senses from the onslaught of scents.

Any rebel he came across was met with a quick death, more than a handful returning to their maker before his eyes. With each supernatural death, the mark on Kaiven’s wrist tingled, as the otherworldly need for nonhuman death was satiated.

He stayed on the Kitsune’s trail, following it away from the plumes of smoke and burning buildings. Sword drawn but held in a relaxed grip, Kaiven walked along a dirt path, his other hand loosely holding onto the reins of the horse at his rear. Max, the great beast that had been Kaiven’s steed from the day he took on the mantle, was unphased by the amount of death they encountered, not even reacting when Kaiven took down another pair of rebels who charged him.

“Good boy,” Kaiven praised the horse, patting his muzzle with a gloved hand before taking up the reins again. “We’ll get you some sugar cubes after all this is over, I promise.”

The pair walked a bit further, finally rounding a bend in the road that led along the curve of a rock wall. There, he saw his prey, at long last. Making a small ‘tch’ sound with his teeth, he urged Max over toward the treeline. Obediently, the horse moved out of the way, walking over to graze as if this were nothing more than a lazy afternoon stroll through the hillside.

Kaiven, meanwhile, changed his grip on his sword, lifting it so the blade rested casually on his shoulder while he took in the sight before him. A group of yokai had gotten the better of the Kitsune, and looked to be closing in for the kill. “Huh…” he said in a voice that was loud enough to carry, but not seem alarming or even dangerous. “You’ll have to tell me how you managed that,” he said, looking impressed. “He’s a slippery one.”

Taking a few steps closer, he tilted his head curiously as he looked at the Kitsune, his mouth still obscured by the cloth mask. “Is it just because there were more of them? What’s your limit? Four? Five?” Looking at the group, he counted them off aloud, pointing to each one in turn. “Eight, nine, ten. Ten. Hm.. so… five for you, and five for me, yeah?”

Honestly, Kai didn’t know what he was thinking. He should just let them kill the Kitsune. Let them do the hard work. Let them get their chests stabbed full of holes and their lives drained. Let them destroy each other and then haul the Kitsune’s corpse back to the king. It wouldn’t be his fault if someone else made the kill before he could. Technically. He’d still reap the reward, and get his vacation.

So, why the hell did he go for the knife hidden at his hip? Why did he fling it, faster than the eye could see, at the one trapping the Kitsune? The blade sank into his eye socket, killing him instantly. As his body fell to the ground with a thud, releasing the Kitsune, Kaiven moved, blurring as he brought his sword down on the head of the nearest yokai. The others rushed him and his prey, but Kaiven was faster, more deadly than they could handle. He killed without thought or hesitation, hot blood splattering the ground as bodies fell left and right.