Chapter 1: Colder Than Winter

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 The ever permanent gray sky sprinkled frozen flakes with a merciless hand, covering the already frozen ground of the mountain in a thin layer of snow. A chill wind whistled through the silence and held the mountain in an illusion that time had stopped and everything was sleeping. At the top of the mountain, a small but grand mansion sat. Though grand the mansion was it was empty and devoid of life. And through the silent sadness and shadows that danced amongst the floor a young man sitting by the window could be heard slowly breathing like it was only a moment now that he would stop breathing altogether.

His cotton like midnight hair cascaded down his back, contrasting sharply against his snow-like skin, and frame a pretty and slender face. In his head sat a pair of frosty amethyst eyes, with a delicate nose, and pale pink lips. He wore no expression except one of coldness and cared not for the chilling wind that snuck in through his open window and bit his skin. For the lively laughter down below the window echoed in his ears and set his heart slowly crumbling in pain. In his eyes, the frostiness melted and revealed a never-ending ocean of longing.

Why can't I have that too?

The words emerged from his heart and into his head, feeding the demons there. But as soon as the words had surfaced they were snuffed out and the frostiness returned to his eyes. He couldn't care about that, wouldn't care about it. It would only bring tears to his eyes and no one to wipe them away. However, like all human beings curiosity was a force that controlled one's actions and drove him to stand, head out the door, and down to the little village nestled between the beginning of the next mountain and the bottom of this one.

What were they so happy about this time?

Oddly enough the notion sent his spirits flying. Soft snow parted like sand as he strode forward, the wind whistling between the dead branches of the trees and emphasizing the stillness of all life and the silence he was so accustomed to. Icicles hung from the trees as he looked around at the scenery that never changed. But he did not stop to gaze at it a minute longer and kept up his steady pace. Eventually, ignoring the numbing pain of his body, he crossed the frozen, winding river and arrived 5 feet away from the village.

He immediately stopped and did not take another step forward. Through the fog that accompanied the mountain day in and day out, he could see a type of friendly black smoke that rose up from the small hut-like houses while men and women of all ages, wrapped in heavy robes, danced around a flickering fire, the heavy scent of a feast prominent and the sound of laughter and folk music filling the silence. The celebration was wild in nature but looked like quite a bit a fun. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips at the large smiles they wore.

And abandoning the thoughts of danger he unthinkingly took a step forward to join the fun. Almost instantly, a sharp pain stabbed his body like a knife as the sound of a bell sounded out. Sun stumbled backward from the force of it, blood pouring from his lips, as he wore an expression of dread. How could he have forgotten? How could he forget something so important? Sun could only lament over his mistake as the laughter and music stopped.

One by one the villagers stopped what they were doing and turned to look at the only thing they could see, the amethyst eyes of the monster that lurked beyond the fog that covered the mountain. Sun's feet itched to move, to carry himself away from the eyes of the villagers, but like all those years ago he was captured by the fear and loathing on their faces and, silently, his heart started to crack in sadness. A child that was brave enough to run out from behind his mother and, ignoring the trembling of his heart, picked up a stone and threw it at him with fear and hate. With a soft thud, it landed in front of Sun's feet.

"Go back to your mountain monster! Leave this place! You are not welcome here!" the child screamed at him with all the strength he could muster, an expression of hate on the smalls boy face.

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