[SpringsSong]

Kinasha did not know why she was out here, much less at this hour of the night.  The silver marks that decorated her skin were concealed by a dark orange coat and her skating uniform.

Why aren’t you on the ice?

That was where she was supposed to be right now, preparing for her competition in about an hour.  Her coach knew that she was out on a personal errand, but she hadn’t told him how long she would be gone, or why she was gone.  She just knew that the pendant around her neck had been clear when it told her that she needed to go into the Fe’gan Mountains.

Jozite and Parthannûn... you are to meet these two people now, it had said.  They are part of the very reason you are able to skate now.  Without them, you would not be here—heck, if it were not for Jozite, you would still be in a comma...

Even though it was hard for Kinasha to believe that, a mere two months ago, she had been on crutches and had been told that she would never skate again.  However, she had glared back at her doctor and rested on her crutches, her violet eyes throwing daggers at him as she leaned in, her voice steely.

Listen, she said, I don’t care what you think I can or can’t do, I will skate again, she said.  I’m going to the Games, and I will skate.  You can’t stop me, and I don’t much care what you say about it otherwise.  It was never my intent to go down like I did, and it certainly isn’t my intent to go out of my sport because of an injury that should have, in all reasonable cases, ended my life.  If I’m still alive, I’m going to skate.

And now... here she was.

Jozite... Parthannûn... hear me now, she said, drawing in a breath as she lowered herself to her knees on the mountaintop, her eyes closed.  I have been told that I owe my life to you... this pendant is owed back to one of you... and, as unbelievable as I sound saying this, the fact that I was in a coma and spared the pain also needs to be thanked...

Without her helmet and her skates, Kinasha felt like she was nearly naked.  After all, all she had on was her coat, skating uniform, a pair of boots, her gloves—which had silver-tipped fingers—and the pendant around her neck, the same bloody thing that had called her here from her comfortable position back on the sidelines of the rink.  She, however, had to ask herself as she waited for the first of the voices to respond to her, whichever one it was...

Am I really comfortable doing this?

That had been the one question on her mind since her first practice after her accident, and it was still on her mind as she had taken to the 500-meter sprint again, something she had vowed not to do because of its unpredictability and danger.  She knew she was not the first short track skater to go down in that race, but she would be the first that came back to the same race that nearly took her life mere months before.

...please... I need your help...

[1.1]

[SpringsSong]

Who could be calling me at this hour of the night... and what for?  Surely there is nothing I can assist with in these night hours...

This was what the winged male said to himself as he began to descend from the skies, his eyes gentle as he tried to see who was bowed at the altar in the cold mountains.  He shook his head at first; a female in nothing more than a coat and gloves—and apparently a body suit—was kneeling there, holding a red gem on a string close to her heart as she sat there, eyes lidded...

...wait, he thought.  I know that gem... I gave it to the skater girl who almost died all those weeks ago... I am amazed that she has recovered as well as she has.  I never expected to see her walk properly again... but she looks as though she means to skate in the big race tonight!  I... what is she even thinking, after what happened to her last time?  She could be hurt even more than before this time!

Nevertheless, the male approached Kinasha, his blue eyes gentle as he searched into her eyes—though they were, indeed, at this moment closed—and offered a small smile and a chuckle as he stood before her, taking the gem which she held onto as though her very life depended on it—and, in a way, it had.  When Kinasha came out of her first surgery, she had been in a coma for what felt like months to her parents when it had been but a few days.  Having heard their cries to him—or to any other deity-like figure—Jozite had come, and he’d taken the necklace he wore all the time and left it around her neck.

“I trust that you are much improved from when we last met, young Kinasha,” he said, smiling as he looked back down at the gem which she held now, removing it from her hands for but a moment.  “I see that you still have the charm I left you that allowed you to awaken from that sleeping death in which you were so dreadfully locked.  Your parents were scared silly for you, you know... they wonder why you love the sport.  They wonder why you go back to it, especially after the last time you skated.  I could see it in their eyes as they watched you sleep there, barely breathing.  They were asking themselves what they’d done to earn Xai’re’s curse on their daughter, who had done nothing wrong...”

Here, though, he paused.  Had it been her mother and father he saw fretting over her in the hospital, or was that her short track “family”, the ones that supported her in the sport, the ones that gave her the strength to go on another day and face the ice once again, though she was doubtless having countless flashbacks about that dreadful forty seconds of pure adrenaline that, quite frankly, Jozite hated the notion of.  It was a mad dash to the end, and there was always—always—opportunity for a skater to either lose their balance and fall or be taken out by someone who fell.  He would never understand it, but nevertheless, he had to come to her now.

“What is it you need of me, Kinasha?” he asked.  “You look as though you have somewhere you need to be, and—Zu'hai forbid it take you down the same path that your race several months ago took you down—you ought to be getting back there soon.  I do not wish to cost you a spot in the next race by keeping you here too long.  Keep the necklace, by all means; it is a gift from me to you... I have no need for it.  I will have no need for it if I take it back, for once the necklace bonds to someone else, it remains bonded to that person—it defends that person’s life as though it were a living shield.  You can never be rid of it.”

[1.1]

[SpringsSong]

His footsteps were as soundless as the snow that was now beginning to fall on the mountaintop where Kinasha and Jozite now stood.  His eyes were soft, yet... at the same time, they had a knife-like edge to them that cautioned one to keep their distance from him, lest they meet their death by a knife-like glare from him.  However, as his eyes fell upon the female, his eyes softened the tiniest hint.  Almost instantly, though, they hardened again.

“You...”

He said this as though it was a poisonous word, and as he approached her, his blue eyes began to glow dangerously.  While he knew that he could not harm her—in making eye contact with her before her fatal crash, he made it so that any injury she received when he was around would instead transfer to him—he could at least talk—well, yell—at her.

“You... yes, it was you!” he said, his eyes glowing brightly now.  “It was you that fell at the races two months ago, the one that nearly bled out on the ice!  It was you whose sweet lavender eyes I saw clearly before the race, and it was your pain I felt as my own before you were rushed to the hospital as though you were doomed to die if you were not there within twenty minutes of you receiving that cut.  Did you feel any pain, though?  No!—it all transferred onto me.  You do not know what your own injury felt like; the one that could have killed you... that should have killed you...”

His eyes were hard as ice as he approached her, towering easily over her as he glared down at her, his fist clenched as he placed it in front of her eyes; a clear warning.  Even as he looked into her eyes, he could tell that she was just another girl, one who had been competing in one of the more dangerous sports in the world... but, at the same time, this girl had cost him two weeks of intense pain—never-ending pain at that—and then, for a month after that, every time she would walk, he would feel the pain in his own leg—and would often drop to the ground in pain.

“Because of you, I lost two weeks of my life... and because of you, the whole month after that, every time you tried walking, I would collapse to the ground because of the pain that I was being caused... the curse that my people placed on me... they made me a shield so that they could go into battle and not be harmed... no, instead, I would bear their pain... I was the black sheep; oh, yes.  I’m sure you have no idea how it feels to be the black sheep in your family.  You probably had everything right there at your fingertips, didn’t you?  As soon as you showed talent, your parents probably gave everything up so you could learn how to skate.”

He began to circle her now as he watched her closely, trying to see what her reaction would be.  He could not predict what it would be, but he suspected she would probably get up in arms about how he was right about her parents giving up everything so that she could learn how to skate.  If he had been in his Lucain form right now, all she would see would be a dark green mask with curled lips revealing fangs as white as diamonds against a blue-black background of his fur.  His eyes became even colder than ice as he stood in front of her, vapors seeming to come from his eyes.

“Well?  Are you even going to speak, female?” he spat.  “Are you going to make any reaction to your family being insulted, or... even yourself?  Or are you going to continue standing here, staring in amazement at the Suncheeka that saved your life for no good reason?”

[1.1]

[SpringsSong]

“...my family didn’t care... those that you saw around me were probably the short track team,” Kinasha said, glancing first to Jozite, and then, to Parthannûn.  “You can try to elicit rage out of me all you want, but it will not work.  All my rage is reserved for the skaters that are wrongfully disqualified, or for those that are wrongfully advanced into the medal round, or those that bend the rules to the point where they ought to have snapped ages ago, but instead, they stay right on the inside of that bend and they get away with it.  All of my rage—every last iota of it—is reserved specifically for my sport... nothing more.”

Kinasha said this in a very level voice, which was surprising for the words Parthannûn had just thrown at her.  Her return glare to Parthannûn was equally level, which was something of a surprise as well.  Any other person, athlete or otherwise, would have long since snapped his head off, but Kinasha was doing a rather excellent job at keeping her head cool and not lashing out at him.  She drew in a breath as she looked back to Jozite, a small smile coming to her face as he said she looked like she had somewhere she needed to be.

“I do indeed have somewhere to be, Jozite, but I also have a debt to repay to you—and to you as well, Parthannûn, but mostly to Jozite—from these past two months.  If it weren’t for you two, I would not be able to skate today... maybe in three months, but this event wasn’t three months away, or four or five—it was two months away,” she said.  “It is because of you two that I am able to make my return to the ice tonight; a return to the ice that no one—except for my coach—is expecting.  If...”

Here, she stopped, trying her best not to break out into tears here.  It wasn’t the fact that she was emotional over being in the presence of the two people that had saved her; it was the fact that now—after two months of tears, training, and defying every odd that was placed on her—she was scared that she was going to repeat her fall from two months ago...

“Jozite... I am afraid that I might fall again,” she said, biting her lip now.  “I might have gotten better since my fall, but... this is the first time I’ve been on the ice with six other racers at the same time.  The top two skaters will race in the semi-finals, and then... after that... the top two from each semi-final races for gold in this race.  If I could get the gold in this race, then... then I would prove to the whole world that anyone can do anything, despite the odds against them.  If I can recover from a fall like that in two months, then anyone could do anything that their minds were set on.”

She looked down at the gem as what Jozite said about it being a living shield for the person it bonded to, protecting them from harm, and not allowing itself to transfer off to another person.  Her eyes widened as she held it up to look at it again, sparkling in bewilderment as she allowed it to fall again.  She could feel it pulsating against her chest now as she listened to the beat of her own heart, and she could tell that they were perfectly in sync with each other.  She closed her eyes as she popped her knuckles, drawing in a deep breath as she drew herself up to her full height.

“Jozite... I want you to come to the race,” she said, her voice soft at first, but then, she spoke up a little.  “I want you to come to the race, and I want to see you there in the audience.  You could disguise yourself somehow, and... you can say that you’re my brother... family members of the athletes get into the event for free... I guess I... I don’t know, I guess I somehow feel like I need to repay you for saving me two months ago... please...”

Her voice was a thin plea here as she looked down at her watch.  She had about twenty minutes before she needed to be ready to race, and if she wasn’t there in about ten minutes, the coach would not allow her to race unless someone else was ill or had been injured prior to the event.  She looked back at the cold male, her eyes level and unfeeling, and then, she looked back at the Suncheeka, her eyes pleading.

“Please...”

[1.2]

[SpringsSong]

“A race?  Young Kinasha, I must protest—”

Jozite began to say this as the first sentence that Kinasha had spoken before registered to him.  He frowned as he contemplated what that must have been like for her, going through an incredibly trivial time of life where blood-family was almost required to make it through without losing one’s sanity and spirit, but... at the same time, he could relate with how she felt.

How long ago was that...?

Even as he thought about the things of the past couple months, he could see faint images in his mind from several, several years ago—he was ageless, so he looked as though he was but twenty-some, but was truly ages older than that—to when he had been a young lad in the world of sports and athletics.  He had, of course, been more into the summer sports, but that was only natural of him, being from the Wilt’no region.  He had been practicing for his sport, and then... the next thing he knew, he was falling to the ground, and then, he was being rushed to the hospital.  After a few moments had passed, he stopped and shook his head, smiling at Kinasha.

“I’m sorry, I was just remembering back to the days when I was an athlete.  Not every athlete is exempt from injury, and some are prone to larger injuries.  I, too... know the pain of injury, and I have heard the agonizing words that you will never be able to compete again... it’s easier to fight back when you can walk when you’re told those words.  When you’re confined to a wheelchair for two months afterwards, it’s a lot harder to fight back when you’re told that you will never be able to compete again.  As much as I wanted to fight back... I could not.”

He shot a glare at Parthannûn here; and then, he shook his head and returned his attention to Kinasha, his eyes filled with sorrow as he placed a hand on her shoulder, the sun emblem that followed him glowing softly as he offered a tiny smile to her.  The aura that he emanated was very calming as his wings fluttered slightly, his deep, blue eyes calming and gentle.

“I had forgotten how it felt to be asked to come to a sporting event,” Jozite said.  “The last time I was asked to go to a sporting event, audience or athlete, was... was when I was an inline skater.  While our chances of fatal injuries are less likely than in short track... some of us managed to fall hard enough to where we were put out of the sport for a while.  I fell hard enough that I broke my leg—well, inline skates are heavy, and when I went down, not only did I have a concussion, my right skate hit my left leg hard enough that I actually fractured the upper part of my leg... they had me in a wheelchair for a month afterwards.”

Jozite paused here as he looked over Kinasha’s ensemble; the uniform, the gloves, her eyes steely and her face filled with determination.  Something in his heart tugged at him; he had not looked much different from her—aside from the obvious difference of gender and height—when he had competed last, but the last time he had competed, it had not ended well for him.  He closed his eyes as he recalled that fateful race, his face filled with sorrow as his mind replayed the dialogue.

And it is the Wilt’nen Jozite that is leading the race right now, ladies and gentlemen.  He certainly is the skater to be beat this year—here comes the Jawanian skater right behind him, but Jozite is hanging on for first place—this is history in the making, ladies and gentlemen; the Wilt'nen people have not had a World Championship title in this sport for several years—oh!  Jozite goes down hard—it looks like his skate impacted pretty hard on his leg... wait, is he responding?  Is he conscious?  The officials are calling for the racers to stop; they only do that when they fear that the worst has happened, and for Jozite, it certainly seems like the worst has happened—he’s not responding to anything.  It looks like he might have a severe concussion, and with how hard his skate impacted on his leg, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s broken...

The only reason he knew this dialogue was because he had seen the replay of the race several times once he had come around.  He remembered coming into the final turn of the second to last lap, and then, he had gone down hard, flipping over, and everything had gone black.

“I will go to this race,” he said at last.

[1.2]

[SpringsSong]

Parthannûn blinked at Kinasha's response, which was quite level and cool, despite the insults he’d thrown at her.  In fact, she was as cold as the ice that she skated on, which was a surprise to the male.  He shook his head after a moment, his eyes still as cold as ever as the Suncheeka began talking about how he had been an inline skater goodness knew how many years in the future.  He rolled his eyes and purposely did not make eye contact with him, keeping his eyes focused on a cloud just behind the Suncheeka.

“You athletes,” he said angrily.  “You’re all the same—in your greatest race, you crack.  What happened to Aldrect’s blossoming star in the race of her life; the race where she would finally put Aldrect in all of the short track events of the games?  She fell and nearly died.  What happened to the Wilt'nen inline skater, who was supposed to be the one that got Wilt'no back into the sport of inline skating?  He fell and spent the next month in a wheelchair and was told he would never compete again... and, worse, he believed them.  Sure, the short track skater fought back—quite admirably, I might add,” he said, running his hand through Kinasha's hair.  “...but you’re all the same.  You might think you can recover, but you cannot.  You can accept this now, or you can go to this race of yours and make a bloody fool of yourself.”

He continued to glare at the pair, his eyes almost colder than the ice that Kinasha would be returning to soon.  He shook his head as she turned away from them, his own voice speaking in icy tones after that.

“At least you two have amulets now.  Maybe that will spare me two people whose pain I would otherwise feel as my own.  Kinasha... you do not even know how much your wound hurt after the race.  I’m sure you thought you must have gone into shock, so you weren’t feeling anything.  All my life, all I’ve felt is the pain of others.  I’ve never been allowed to feel my own pain.  I’ve always been forced to be a shield for others; I was never allowed to stay back home when my tribe went off to war.  I was always required—even as a youngster, yes—to go off to war with the men while the women and other children stayed home.  The soldiers never felt the pain; they just saw the blood.  I swear, if it were possible for Paragon and Lucain to breed together, all of them had Grim blood in them.”

He took a moment to contemplate what it was Kinasha said about her family—how it had not been her family; rather, the short track team at the hospital, at her bedside when she had been recovering from her fall.  He glared back at her, but then, his eyes softened as he realized what that meant.  If her family did not care that she had nearly died when she had fallen, if they did not care that she had talent in skating, then... she was probably as much of a black sheep in her family as he was in his.  He approached her carefully, his eyes searching.

“So... you are a black sheep as well, then... maybe I spoke too soon about you,” he said.  “All other athletes I have known have lived the life of luxury, the ones whose parents have given up everything just because their child showed even the slightest hints of talent in their sport, and then, they started winning and winning, and... it all went to their heads.  They thought they were Zu'hai’s gift to the world, and for all they cared, no one else even mattered to them.  They’re the ones that reveled in one-night stands, that never really cared how many hearts they broke, that were given whatever the heck they wanted.”

He smiled as he walked around her now, his eyes clear as they examined her.  He remembered watching her on the ice that fateful night, and she had definitely been quite the image of grace and power on the ice, even as she fell.  It was almost hard for him to accept that two months ago, all he wanted to do was kill her because of the pain she had put him through.  He cleared his throat here and held out a hand for her to take, a small smile on his face.

“Maybe I could treat you to some ice cream after the race, regardless of how you do in your debut on the ice after that injury?  It would be my treat, of course,” he said, smiling and offering a sly wink.  Hopefully, she would take his offer and leave the Suncheeka behind after this, otherwise, he would never have a chance against him.  This Jozite was a fellow athlete in a sport that was not all that different from her own, so they would be able to relate on several levels with their sport, their injuries, and their comeback experiences.

[1.2]