Standing up, ZaiWin¹Literally zai (blade) + win (chaos). crossed the room and, propping one booted foot against the frozen man’s chest, tried to pull his sword free again. Even though he actually felt healthier and stronger than he’d felt that morning, it still took him all his strength to finally release the blade. Well, it was a good blade, he thought, balancing the sword in his hand, glad that he wouldn’t have to leave it behind. That it hadn’t become bent or even chipped after all that spoke to its quality.

Looking at the door he quickly gave up on that. Not only it was frozen shut he had no idea of what he would find downstairs. So they were only left with the window that, contrary to the door, was covered with a much thinner layer of ice.

Well, time to test the sword’s quality one more time, he thought, changing his grip to whack at the ice wall. Ice splinters flew everywhere, but ZaiWin was more than used to wielding a sword, knowing all too well how to take advantage of the long, frail-looking blade, making sure it inflicted maximum damage without damaging the sword itself. It didn’t take him long to break through the ice and shatter the glass, the evening wind feeling pleasantly warm as it flooded the freezing bedroom. Turning around he walked to the door and quickly carved the shape of a triangle with a cross inside on the wall beside it, hoping the ice would last until the others came back. He took a last glance at the hourglass, also enclosed in ice, and marched back to the window.

“Let’s go. I’ll go down first and then you jump,” ZaiWin told him, climbing on the small window sill and, in the next moment, he was gone.

Snow’s heart skipped a bit and, before he knew what he was doing, he had already run to the window, looking down, fearing what he might see. The blue eyes that stared up back at him made him sigh in relief.

ZaiWin looked to one side and then the other, and finally signaled him to … what?, Snow thought in disbelief, automatically shaking his head.

A deep frown appeared in ZaiWin’s forehead and the blue eyes took on an angry expression, his signaling becoming more fierce.

Did he really want him to jump? Snow looked back at the door, hoping, wondering if he couldn’t somehow open it. Dismay quickly took over him. He had no one else to blame for the state of things but himself.

Looking at the two frozen men he doubted if his intervention had been needed at all. ZaiWin had clearly managed to kill the first man before he had frozen the room, and the way his sword had remained stuck inside the second man’s belly left him wondering if he hadn’t been able to easily deal with the two men on his own.

Snow really wished he could control … those things, he thought, looking down again. And yet ZaiWin had told him he’d teach him. If that was true … if he could really learn how to control it, learn how to use it according to his will, then he would never be defenseless again. And, for the first time since he’d laid eyes on that man, the idea of escaping, of running as far away as possible from all of them, was tossed to one side. If he was really willing to teach him then he’d stick with him until he was able to learn how to control it.

Climbing on the window sill, he jumped down. Though it was only one floor it was still frighteningly high, but he didn’t really have any other choice.

The arms that caught him stole a huff from his chest but were strong enough to hold on to him, before he was gently lowered down, just like when the monster helped him off his horse. Snow took a deep breath in relief but, the next instant, his wrist had been grabbed and he was being dragged down the street.

Snow stumbled on the cobblestones and tried to keep up, his arm aching from the force with which ZaiWin kept pulling him, almost forcing him to run, making him focus on his own legs. Though Snow had recovered most his strength after all the time he’d been kept prisoner, he still didn’t trust himself to run or jump like any other person. And he did not want to fall!, he thought, looking up at the tall man in front of him, his hair and clothes still wet, his long sword tied to his back, half-concealed under his long jacket.
It didn’t take them long to leave the more quiet, deserted part of town where the inn had been.

Turning left and right, they were soon in a much busier street, bright lanterns hanging from almost every door and window making Snow blink, his head turning left and right, his mind filled with new sounds and scents.

There were a lot of women outside, Snow realized seeing at least five standing by a door, laughing and trying to captivate the passersby’s attention. They were dressed in colorful, light clothes, the flowing silky fabrics covering their bodies almost transparent, their dark hair carefully arranged and tied with bright, glistening hairpins. The air, all around him, felt warm and smelled sweet, in a mix of flowery perfumes and incense.

He stumbled again and received another pull, almost as if he were no more than a child still learning to walk, being guided by his father’s harsh hand. They turned to another narrower, darker street, and finally stop, allowing him to take a deep breath.

“Here. Put this on,” ZaiWin told him, throwing a piece of fabric at him that he almost wasn’t in time to grab, and Snow tried to make sense of it, turning it in his hands.

It felt smooth and fresh, but he couldn’t understand what it was or when ZaiWin had gotten a hold of it.

Tsking from impatience, ZaiWin reached out and quickly untied his cloak.

“Hurry up!”

Taking the soft fabric from his hands ZaiWin pulled it over his head and helped him get dressed. Well, it was large enough to dress over his normal clothes, Snow realized, slipping his arms into the wide, bright-yellow sleeves. And when ZaiWin pulled it down his chest it fell fluidly all the way to his feet, covering them completely and pooling on the floor around him.

“Well, it’s way too big but it will have to do,” ZaiWin observed and wrapped the warm cloak around his shoulders again, tying it up and pulling the hood over his head. “Try not to trip on it. And make sure you keep your hood up. And don’t look people in the eye!” he instructed and Snow nodded, even though he was still staring in disbelief at the yellow dress he now wore, the beautiful lace trimmed hem of its skirt covering his feet.

ZaiWin made sure his cloak was well closed over his chest and, grabbing his hand, placed it on his folded arm, before taking him out of the narrow alley and returning to the busy street.

Two steps were all it took before Snow tripped on the long dress and almost fell head-first, if not for the hand that held him straight.

Blushing, Snow didn’t dare look up, certain that those blue eyes would be glaring threateningly at him. After all he’d just told him to be careful not to trip. Which was easier said than done, he concluded a few steps later, making sure he kicked the dress from under his feet every time he stepped forward. At least he wasn’t being dragged down the street anymore, ZaiWin patiently matching his slower pace, his arm offering him support.

It didn’t take him long to understand that, from an outsider’s point of view, they must look like any other couple that they'd passed by, strolling down the street.

Looking down at his yellow dress Snow couldn’t help feeling sad. Even though he wasn’t a girl, since people around him apparently considered that he being born a boy was some kind of mistake, he had no other choice but to put up with it.