Feathers -eng ver-

Chapter 22- That Winter Day

«Why don't you tell them what happened that winter six years ago?»

Han stopped breathing.

Killian stood before him, only a few steps separating them. The silver eye, the cobalt cheeks, the cadaverous skin, the cherry lips, the sharp teeth -nothing could suggest the man of immortal beauty who had always been the advisor. His face looked even skinnier now. He was smiling.

Han looked at him terrified, returning to that moment that had taken away his sleep for weeks and months. Several times over the years he had tried to bury the memory of that winter day and the remorse it brought with it, but he had never succeeded.

He leaned over Noya's face, caressing his cheek again to reassure him and himself: the last thing needed at that moment was for either of them to panic. He met his frightened eyes and longed to be sucked into them, unwilling to have to relive that winter six years earlier. He watched the confusion in the blue-gray irises, not surprised when the most obvious question left his lips.

«Oh, so they don't know.» Said Killian, his tone somewhere between scolding and teasing. «I imagined so. I'm not surprised.»

Han didn't even look at him. He lowered his head to the blond man's chest and holding him tightly murmured an apology, scared of the idea of never having the chance again. He felt the younger man's hand grasp his own and then Estel's on his back in a gesture that, theoretically, should have encouraged him.

He feared they would hate him forever.

~~~

-6 years earlier-

Strangely enough, Mikhael had received a letter. This was a very rare event, often the bearer of bad news. However, this time it had not been so. The one writing had been an old friend of his who, in a few lines, asked him to join him at his home in the Western Province. He was begging him to help his wife -also a friend of the Wizard- during childbirth.

Mikhael had been delighted with the news and had not hesitated to leave. Also, a friend of the man the Wizard was going to see, Narith had also left. Estel had also gone with them, curious to see places other than the hills in which he had lived for the past two years. He was still fifteen years old. He wanted to discover and meet new people; driven by the curiosity he had always possessed. Moreover, it would be good for him, as he had started working in a workshop to learn the artist's trade.

Mikhael, Narith and Estel had set out on a winter morning, crossing the snow-covered hills with their strong and tireless horses. They would be out about a month, as the trip was long and slow due to the cold temperatures and snow covering the roads.

On the other hand, Han and Noya had stayed home.

Although it had been almost two years since the escape that had led to his escape from the prince's clutches, the blond boy was still afraid to go out and be alone. His panic attacks were not uncommon, and it was also not uncommon for him to try to hurt himself during them. It was an involuntary reaction, dictated by a mind that couldn't understand and see the difference between reality and imagination or, even worse, memories.

Noya in those moments was absent, lost in the darkest and unresolved corners of his traumas, which was why he couldn't think or act properly. When his mind was blocked by the web of disconnected memories that represented his past, he had to be watched.

That was why Han had stayed with him at the House on the Hill. To make him feel safe.

          A few days after the three left, Noya had one of his panic attacks. It had been two weeks since the last one, but the Wizard had become used to that fluctuating frequency.