WARBOUND- A Camp Minecraft Season Three Rewrite/AU

Burns

Hey so this is where I stopped when I had my account before so uh-

BE PREPAREDDD

CW// Grief (as always!) Description of death.

Alxton watched as his friends gathered in Henwy's home, their faces plastered in shock and grief.

All the trainees, except for Zud (who was still collecting "supplies"), hung back in town while the original members surrounded their campmate.

Frost kneeled down next to Henwy's slumped over body, running his fingers up the side of the sword stabbed into his back. His eyes narrowed.

"He was killed swiftly, quickly." he muttered, thick hair covering almost his whole face.

The blistering heat of the home, made worse by all the bodies in the living room, was making Alxton uncomfortably warm. He opened his mouth to breathe better in a pant, unable to sweat like a normal person would.

He looked back at Frost, who was somehow surviving in long sleeves that covered his arms.

Maybe that's why they call him Frost. That can't be his real name, right? Alxton thought grimly.

"Whoever stabbed him literally stabbed him in the back." Frost said, looking up at the group. "Harshly. Angrily."

"Whoever did it must be burned. Bad."

The crowd looked at Rafessor.

"Look at the ash and burns on the ground. Two sets of footprints- one from Henwy, one from the killer. Henwy burned them badly- look at how far the black goes."

"Frost." Nico said quietly, gesturing to the man. "You're in long sleeves. Are you burnt?"

Frost's eyes turned to ice. "Of course not." He snarled. "That's why they call me Frost- I'm always cold."

Alxton felt a small snort escape his jaws, but covered it with a cough.

"How do we know that for sure?" Sigils hissed, stepping forward. "Show your arms."

Frost stood up sharply, glaring at the shorter man. "No. You have no right to command me like that. I am your leader."

Sigils' green eyes sparked with anger, and he lunged forward.

Frost stumbled back, and the crowd parted as the two slammed into the wood door.

"SHOW US YOUR ARMS!" Sigils roared, grabbing for the leader's sleeves.

Frost let out a loud yell, swinging his arm, and Sigils went flying out the door and onto the grass.

His head hit the ground harshly.

Frost stomped over, snarling with rage as the people slowly followed outside, eyes wide with shock at the outburst.

"How about you show us your arms?" Frost said quietly.

Sigils' gaze burned into Frost's like fire.

"You first."

He leaped up, grabbing for Frost again, but the man only held out his hand.

The bandages on Sigils' arms whipped off with the wind that came from Frost's palms, his hat flying off as his hair whipped away from his face.

Sigils fell to the dirt.

Frost hadn't killed Henwy.

Neither had Zud.

And the proof was Sigils' pale arms and face-

Which were littered with black burns.