Embers of Frost

Chapter 6 - Dusk

Charles clicked his tongue, and shook his head disapprovingly. "How many times do I have to correct you?" he said. "Is that how you speak to your mentor? You shall address me by Master and nothing other than that."

"Yes, Cha...Master," Dusk corrected, his voice tight. He curled his right fist, hiding it from Charles' view. What is he doing here?

Dusk kept staring at his master, scrutinizing his appearance quickly. His dark brown hair was swept back, a stray strand falling into his eye. His eyes were slate gray with tiny threads of a blue so dark, it almost looked black. Dusk had never found his eyes attractive unlike the ladies in Eldatrion. To him, they were nothing but cold and calculative, planning every sinister move ahead of time.

To his surprise, Charles had stepped out of his comfort zone, not dressed in his regular leather jacket and riding boots. He wore a tunic... a dark green tunic. Memories of the past flashed through Dusk's mind, things he never wanted to remember again; his mother's crumpled body as she was brutally stabbed, his twin sister's desperate attempt to protect him. He never thought it would end in that manner, his house erupting into flames.

"Where are you taking me?" Dusk sobbed, looking back at his house. The fire had engulfed his house, smoke rising into the air. The roof was charred black, light patches of its original cover slightly visible. Somewhere in there is Dawn and mother...

The thought of his dying mother clenched his heart, a strangled cry escaping his mouth. "I want to go home!" he cried, warm tears brushing against his eyelids. He struggled in his captor's grip, trying to escape.

The man groaned and tightened his grip around him. He placed his hand on Dusk's mouth, muffling his protesting cries. "If I would've known that you could be as annoying as your sister, I should have reconsidered my decision. Anyways, a wailing child is better than an aggressive girl."

Dusk's eyes widened as he inhaled sharply. He opened his mouth and sunk his teeth into Charles' palm. The man yelped in surprise and withdrew his hand, rubbing it against his tunic. "Don't insult my sister," he said quietly, the tears stopped in their tracks. He wouldn't let them spill out, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

Charles stared at him, his eyebrows knitted together. "Oh, is that so?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Too bad she isn't here to see your devoted love for her. I'm sure she must be dead by now, the flames devouring her small frame."

Before Dusk could reply, a loud explosion attracted his attention. He quickly swerved his head towards the source and gasped. The flames had gotten fiercer, the whole house crumbling down. But the thing that caught his attention the most was the gaping hole in the roof. A chunk of the ceiling had collapsed into the house, leaving the area exposed. A bloodcurdling scream rang in the air, followed by a low thump!

"Dawn!" Dusk called, and wiggled in Charles' grip. The man was caught by surprise as the boy jumped out of his arms. He landed on his right ankle, a spasm of pain shooting through the foot. He clenched his jaw, ignoring the sick feeling in his insides.

Using his hands as support, Dusk stood up slowly, the pain in his ankle aggravating. He hobbled forward, not turning to look back at the man who stole everything from him. His home, his mother, sister... life. Dawn! Where are you?

"Damn!" Charles roared, breaking into a sprint.

Dusk tried ignoring the rapidly approaching footsteps but failed to do so. With his twisted ankle, it would only be a matter of a few seconds before Charles caught him. What hope does an eight year old have against an adult?