The Blood in Our Veins

Chapter Forty Two - Frost Among the Ashes

- RYON'S POV -

I ran as fast as I could to the column of dark smoke rising from the trees. I only caught glimpses of it, for the leaves decorating the twigs high above blocked my view. Tristan had ordered me to put a stop to the blaze, in case it threatened our camp. I soon could hear the crackling wood and feel the heat. Once I saw the first of the flames, I extended my hand and extinguished them. Soon enough, I reached the worst of the wildfire. I saw a flash of white shoot downward from a tree. Thinking it was an animal of some sort, I was desperate to save it.

Before the creature could touch the deadly hearth-filler, I destroyed the threat with a wave of my hand. Rushing forward to see if the beast still lived, I was shocked to find that lying in the ashes was none other than Project Frost. Although the once-pure outfit was scorched and torn, it wasn't hard to identify the boy. I nudged the lad with the toe of my boot to see if he was alive. To my surprise, he groaned and let out a loud cough. Half-concious. Better than dead. I would have to remove his mask to allow him to breathe properly, but I wasn't sure if I should. He deserved to keep secrets. That was the least I could do after what had happened the night before.

I lifted him from the ground and carried him away from the scene. We came to rest not far from the river. I placed Frost on the dirt with his back against a trunk. I lifted my canteen from my belt and held it to him. The boy groggily took it from me and kept his eyes shut. How he knew where I was and what I was doing seemed to be a mystery. He silently raised an eyebrow. I got the message.

Straightening, I walked a short distance away so as not to see what lied behind his mask. I could hear him hungrily gulping the cool liquid and only returned after I heard the snap of the top closing. "What's your name, lad?" I asked. He lifted a stick from the ground and wrote three Draconic words in the dust.

'Call me Frost.'

"You don't talk much, do ya?" I realized. He shook his head. "Do you speak the common tongue?" I watched as he wrote more in the Lost Language. Very few were fluent in Draconic. Only the royal family and those close to them remembered it. Luckily for me, my grandfather, once part of Queen Catriana's personal Guard, had taught me the the rare tongue before he passed on.

'No. But I can understand it.' 

"Can you talk at all?" I asked. The boy hesitated.

'I cannot. Sickness as a child robbed me of the ability.'

I nodded solemnly. The conversation was taking an awkward turn. "I'd better be gettin' on. Tristan will be waitin'." I said. Frost perked up at the name. He tensed, a common sign of fear. "Don't worry. I won't tell him about you. You'd best be restin' now. That fire will be affectin' you for quite a while." I turned away. "You can leave, if you want. I won't stop you. It'd be best if you stay, though. You're weak. I'll be back at dawn." I left Project Frost there, untethered and unguarded in the light of midday. He had been through too much for one of his age. Sixteen? Seventeen? He was a bit short too be much older than that.

I grinned. For once, after years of constant obedience, I was breaking rules. I was disregarding Prince Tristan's rules and orders. It felt absolutely great.

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Yeah, its kinda short. I'm still trying to get the hang of Ryon's POV again. It's been too long since I was at his end of the story. I told you peoples it wasn't over yet. I promised. I keep my promises...

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