The Sword Saints

20. Reflections in the Snow

(Shu)

"Sometimes it is good to take a break from the business, the responsibilities and stresses of life. Such things can crush one's soul if left without a proper crutch."

- The Book of Peace: Ch. 5: verse 3.

The blood of the snow fox dripped unceremoniously onto the mushy ground as Shu returned his knife to its hilt. Sorry, my furry friend, he thought to himself. Food was food. He undid the snare from its leg and placed the fox in his pelt sack. He then redid the snare. No telling how long he would have to hunt for food.

Satisfied with his catch, he trudged back to his lodging. The sun was already hidden behind the mountain peaks and only a fading orange glow lit his path. He had to hurry; it wasn't wise to be left alone in the dark in the Red Peaks.

That was especially true when demons may have been afoot.

Shu couldn't get the image of that monster out of his head. It was such a nightmare to see; its soulless eyes stared into his very heart, and its dozens of blood stained teeth glinted in the protruding light of the moon. A violent shiver racked his spine. No, he didn't want to think of the demon anymore. He prayed he would never have to see one again.

Putting the demon out of his mind – hopefully for good – he continued through the woods. His boots crunched beneath him. The snow had mostly melted away, but a thin layer of slush remained and coated the grass beneath. He found that the icy sheet made it very difficult for him to stay silent. Fortunately, he didn't have to worry about it for too long.

The house came into view. It was a drab, abandoned little hut, the roof thatch and full of gaps, the walls wood and rotting, but it was sturdy and was a blessing. Shu guessed that it had once belonged to a hunter, for he couldn't think of why anyone would live so far out in the inhospitable wilderness of the Red Peaks.

With a loud squeak, the door swung open without much effort, the locks and hinges rusted and worn. Shu stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He locked it, even though he knew that the lock wouldn't stop anyone. It would, however, delay anyone or anything that tried to get in. Shu would have time to retaliate. The room was faintly lit by a few old candles, the light flickering along the walls. He placed down his bag and walked over to a straw bed on the far wall where sat his injured companion, Asha the Agile. He went to her side. She looked at peace, her breathing calm and even. A miniscule smile tugged at the corner of her lips. One would have a tough time knowing that she had battled the clutches of death just a few days earlier.

As gentle as he could, he redressed her bandages. Her wounds were still ghastly, and he wasn't quite sure that his stitching wasn't the best. Nevertheless, he'd had no better alternative. The gashes appeared to be healing, however, so she was improving at the very least. She still hadn't woken up, though. He prayed to the Virtues that there was no internal damage. He would have no way of fixing that.

Shu left her side and crossed over to the hearth built into the middle wall. The fire was on its last leg, only a few embers left. He rekindled it, illuminating the room in its bright glow and bathing it in warmth. Once it was lit, he retrieved the fox and skinned it. He never liked doing that. He hated the blood and the guts, and he always felt bad for the poor animal. He still did it, but he never hid his distaste.

He was placing the fox onto the stick when Asha began to moan and squirm behind him. Shu turned. She thrashed about, clearly having a nightmare. He went to her side and grabbed her hand. As soon as he touched her hand, she screamed and shot up, her eyes wide and her breathing heavy. Sweat dripped from her forehead.