1/4/19 EDIT: This story has now been fully edited for grammatical and spelling mistakes, as well as uploaded to AO3 too! Enjoy!

Aha, my triumphant return! Man, after not posting anything for such a long time, it feels good to be back!

So! This is the story that was/still is my project for Camp NaNoWriMo (which I would recommend that literally everyone reading this checks it out), so I already have the first seven chapters written. I plan to update this every Saturday at around this time, so hopefully, we can avoid another "doesn't update for like a year" crisis.

Oh, and as for my other unfinished stories, I haven't yet decided whether or not I'm going to update them in between chapter of this or just wait until I'm done this story to finish them all up.

That's all I really wanted to say, so, without further ado, welcome to Running for Life! I hope you enjoy. :)

Chapter 1: A Constant Chase

Jack was not fond of crowds. They made him feel as if he were a trapped creature, surrounded by his relentless hunters. Of course, in a way, he was.

Regardless of this, pushing his way through the packed streets of the small Southern Iskald village he had found himself in was the only possible way for one such as him to leave the woods and find a civilized place to stay. He would much rather have flown, but such an action would attract scores of attention Jack didn't need nor want. The best thing for him to do was to pull his hood lower over his eyes, keep his head down, and stop for absolutely nothing.

Silent as a shadow, he slipped into the nearest tavern he could find; a shabby, antiquated place called "The Rusted Bell". The moment he stepped inside, a ragged-looking man nearly crushed him as he leaned heavily on Jack's shoulder.

"Sorry 'bout that, ma'am…" the man mumbled drunkenly, scarcely looking at the boy he was now using as a sort of makeshift crutch.

"No harm done, sir," Jack replied quietly, not bothering to attempt to speak in falsetto to cater to the man's intoxicated illusions. "Might I suggest you have a seat?" Jack gently helped him into the nearest chair, nodded politely to him, and headed towards the bar, clipping the drunk's wallet to his own belt as he did so.

As Jack sat down on one of the rickety stools and asked for a glass of mead, the young barmaid narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "And just who do you think you're fooling, boy?" she asked abruptly, hands firmly planted on her hips. "There's no way in hell you're even close to being of legal age yet! My brother's only just hit 18 himself and you're naught but half his size!"

"Actually, despite my frame, I happen to be 18 as well," Jack replied easily, smirking as the girl started at his deep voice. His words were all a lie, of course. He had only turned 17 a little over a month before. Still, if he wanted to really fit in at a tavern, it would be best to purchase a drink, even if that meant pretending he was of age. Besides, it wasn't as if anyone could prove his word false. And if he was to be honest, he also needed something to keep his mind off of his life's constant struggles.

Seeing that the barmaid still seemed unsure, he flashed her a dazzling smile from underneath his hood as a last resort. "Do you not trust me?" he asked playfully.

"Not in the slightest," the girl said promptly, though her cheeks had begun to color slightly. "But I s'pose I'll have to take your word for it…" Leaving nothing else said on the matter, the girl stepped away to get him a glass.

Once she was gone, Jack allowed himself to exhale heavily, rubbing his forehead as he leaned against the bar counter. He may have hidden it well, but his left arm currently felt like it was on fire. He had been hit by a poisoned arrow a few days back, and while the swelling had gone down, whatever vile concoction the tip had been dipped in was designed to cause pain that would linger for as long as a week. At least, Jack hoped it would only be a week. You never could tell with humans.

In a matter of minutes, the barmaid was back, and the boy forced himself to straighten his posture. As she passed him the glass he'd ordered, Jack pulled a silver coin from his new wallet and slid it across the counter, adding a charming wink just to be absolutely sure that she was distracted enough to not ask any more questions regarding his age. The girl giggled, returned the wink, and walked off to serve another tavern patron.

Jack didn't watch her go, instead taking a sip of his mead while leaning against the counter. He figured if he pulled off another move like that in a few minutes, he could end up able to get a room for the night. Money was no longer a problem at the moment. The only issue was not getting caught.

"Ah, you are quite charmer, no?"

Jack started at the heavily accented voice off to his right. He shifted his gaze sideways to see a bearded man who appeared to be in his late thirties to early forties. The man laughed at the boy's surprise, his blue eyes twinkling merrily.

"Ah, forgive me!" he said, holding out a gloved hand for Jack to shake. "I did not mean to frighten you! My name is North! It is pleasure to meet you, boy."

"Right…" Jack hesitantly replied, carefully avoiding introducing himself as he shook the man's hand. He was at least grateful that North was wearing a glove; otherwise it would be difficult to explain his icy touch without getting himself beheaded by the swords strapped to the man's belt.

North put a hand to his beard in thought. "Your accent…" he mused. The man arched an eyebrow and looked at Jack in interest. "You are from south-" He suddenly stopped, laughing somewhat sheepishly. "Ah, north from here, that is. You are from...Central Iskald, yes?"

Though tempted, Jack decided against making a snarky comment about how North was apparently from the north.

Instead, he nodded. "Yes," he said quietly, hoping he would not be questioned further.

As his phenomenal luck would have it, however, North had just the opposite in mind. "Ah, from where exactly?" he asked interestedly. "And what brings you this far south?"

Jack suppressed a sigh and instead stiffly recited, "My family lives on the outskirts of Burgess. 'Tis as you guessed-a town in the central reaches of Iskald. Due to the recent threats from the snow sprites, we plan to move further south. My parents sent me ahead to find a safe area, and I'm to send word back to them once I do." Lies, all of it. As he took a small sip of his drink, Jack internally marveled at how easily the story flowed from his lips; he could almost believe it himself.

North laughed loudly and clapped the boy hard on the back, causing him to cough and splutter violently. After a quick apology, the man said, "Ah, I am from Santoff Claussen-Northern Iskald, as you may know-and I too have dealt with snow sprites. Always playing pranks and giving hypothermia...pesky little imps, yes?"

Jack did his best not to scowl.

"But there is good thing happening!" North continued excitedly. "Your family may not have to move, child!" He said this the way one would announce to a toddler that they were now the proud owner of a puppy or kitten, and for some reason, this unnerved the boy.

Jack gulped. "And...why is that?" he asked uneasily, biting down hard on his lower lip as a stab of pain shot through his poisoned arm.

The large man responded with a wide grin and a whisper of, "Because Tsar Lunar has ordered capturing of all snow sprites! He has even sent...special team to find them and bring them directly to him!" The look on North's face told the boy all that he needed to know; he was looking at a member of that team.

Mentally, Jack panicked. Over the past few years, his instincts had developed to an almost animalistic level, and North's words had set off hundreds of alarm bells within his mind. Jack wanted nothing more than to bolt right then and there.

Externally, however, he appeared calm. Granted, he thought he might have visibly tensed, but he fought to keep the mask of indifference firmly planted on his face. Setting his half-drained glass of mead on the bar counter in front of him, Jack slowly stood up, careful to move in a way that would not shift his hood. "'Tis wonderful news, sir, really," he said, nodding respectfully to the older man. "But, ah, I must be going now. If I'm to travel back to my hometown soon, I must make preparations, and-" Jack's voice broke completely as North stood up as well. At what must have been a height of somewhere around seven feet, the man towered over the boy. Jack's fight-or-flight instincts were vehemently begging him to choose flight, and choose it fast.

"Are you alright, boy?" North asked, looking only vaguely concerned. The man almost seemed amused, as if he was fully aware of Jack's secret, and was merely toying with him like a cat would its prey. Regardless, Jack knew it would only take a drop of the hood for the concern to completely vanish, and for pure aggression to take its place, so he was sure to choose his words carefully.

"Yes, of course," he assured the alleged snow sprite hunter. "I just really need to leave, I-"

Suddenly, the same drunken man from before toppled over onto the panicked boy a second time. He hadn't seemed to have noticed his missing wallet yet-he was far too drunk for that-but he apparently still recognized Jack. "Oh...hey there, missy," he slurred. "Funny we k-keep meetin' here like this…"

In that moment, two things fell.

One was the drunk, crashing to the floor in a crumpled heap that smelled heavily of alcohol.

The other was Jack's hood.

The boy couldn't speak, his azure eyes darting around wildly as the gaze of nearly every man and woman in the tavern rested on his stark white hair and elfin ears. There was a full thirty seconds of pure, undiluted silence before Jack heard the unmistakable sound of a sword sliding from its sheath and bolted.

As he ran like a startled deer towards the door, all hell broke loose in the Rusted Bell Tavern. Jack's pointed ears picked up every curse spat, every weapon drawn, and every scream of "Snow sprite, he's a snow sprite! Get him!", but he couldn't stop. If he wanted to live to see the next sunrise, he had to make it to the next town, and fast.

Jack darted out the door and back into the dreaded crowd, his mere presence causing another instance of mass hysteria. He didn't bother to put his hood back up; if even one person already knew he was a snow sprite, there was no point in trying to keep it from the others around.

Vaguely, Jack could hear North incoherently shouting something, and the boy pushed himself to move faster. If the Tsar was looking for snow sprites, then he had to get off the royal radar as quickly as possible. The given order could spell nothing but trouble for him.

The young snow sprite finally broke away from the mass of people and charged into the woods, desperately hoping his pursuers would be of minimal numbers. A little ways into the shaded canopy of trees stood a sleek white stallion. Scooping a long, curved strip of wood that resembled a shepherd's crook up off the ground, Jack bounded atop a boulder and sprung off of it, landing on the horse's back. He let out a short yelp as he once again felt the effects of the arrow's poison, but nevertheless, kicked the horse's sides and was off.

Mere moments after taking off, Jack was aware of the sound of multiple sets of hoofbeats pounding the ground behind them. "Come on, Zephyr," he whispered to his horse. "Let's lose them."

The stallion, Zephyr, whinnied loudly and picked up the pace, slowly but surely leaving their pursuers behind. Jack allowed a smirk to cross his face as he snuck a glance over his shoulder. North had indeed been one of the few people who dared to follow him, and the man had been forced to rein in his quickly tiring pale stallion. For a brief moment, their similarly colored eyes met, and Jack's smile instantly dropped. The man from Santoff Claussen's eyes were narrowed. Though Jack could detect very little of the biting malice he usually received, North's interested expression still troubled him. As a snow sprite in this day and age, interest was simply not something Jack could afford.

Well, that's all for today! Tell me what you think, and I'll see you next week for the next chapter!

Until then, Sapphire316, out.