The sound of hooves penetrated the deepest reaches of Conrad's consciousness, echoing through his ears, and jarring him from the tranquil abyss he had accustomed himself to. A rush of leftover adrenaline from his previous flight surged through his veins as he bolted upright, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword.

Soft brown eyes slowly came into focus and quickly narrowed in apprehension. The last thing Conrad remembered was tumbling down the side of a hill and then—his eyes swiftly darted from left to right, searching his surroundings.

Wolfram's legs were wobbly as he pushed himself up against the tree he had been sitting under only moments before. One arm braced the trunk for support. His head drooped so that his bangs, matted with sweat, shrouded his face and it was all he could do to keep upright under the present circumstances.

Conrad hastily got to his feet, perhaps a little too quickly, he noted as the horizon began to sway. A dull ache emanated from the back of his skull, casually reminding him that any sudden movements on his part would be met with a stern reproach from the rest of his body.

He glanced down for a second to steady himself, finally noticing the binding around his wrist. Had his brother done this? If so, he was impressed to say the least. For some reason, he hadn't thought Wolfram retained any knowledge of first aid, especially since he was so adamant about learning it in the first place.

It was then that he caught sight of the young prince. The mottled bruises covering the pale skin of his back made him hard to miss, even in the fading sunlight.

"Wolfram!" he choked out, his voice sounding strangely odd to him, probably due to the fact that his throat was dry. He swallowed a few times and coughed, clearing his lungs of the dust and debris that had accumulated during his hazardous trip down the side of the ridge.

Conrad's brows furrowed. His interjection had not elicited an immediate response from his younger brother and he wondered if the blond had even heard him.

"Wolfram," he tried again, "are you okay?" Conrad began to walk forward, but instantly broke into a sprint as his brother collapsed under the dim shadows of the tree.

Strong arms encircled Wolfram's frail form, hoisting him up into a sitting position. Conrad pressed a thumb to the boy's forehead and brushed away a few golden strands that threatened to conceal his face.

The blond stubbornly forced his eyes open at Conrad's touch. Dull emeralds met the amiable brown of his older brother's and a small sense of relief flooded his system. The feeling was short-lived, however, as the earth trembled with greater intensity beneath him, an indication that the horses were getting closer.

He opened his mouth to tell Conrad, but his jaw hung slack as he tried ineffectively to force sound from it. Conrad gave him a slightly bewildered look.

"Are you in pain?" he queried, shifting himself a bit as he held the boy up, his eyes thoroughly inspecting all of Wolfram's visible injuries.

Wolfram stared helplessly at his older brother, a new sense of dread wound its way around his heart, causing tears to sting the corners of his eyes. What if the damage was permanent? Hours had passed and he had regained the full use of all his other senses. Why couldn't he hear? Why hadn't his voice returned?

Conrad was still perplexed. Something was definitely wrong with Wolfram, but for whatever reason the boy was not telling him. He gently shook the blond, ashamed of his own impatience with the injured prince, but desperate for answers.

"Wolfram, this is not the time to be stubborn. Please tell me what's wrong," he implored with an authoritative tone he generally reserved for argumentative purposes.

The blond watched the man's lips move and wanted to cry out in anguish. This was pure torture, a horrible nightmare. His heart began to beat faster as he took a few ragged breaths. Conrad could see that his sibling was becoming quite agitated and still did not fully comprehend why. Surely it was due to some discomfort he was deliberately hiding from him.

"Wolfram!" he shouted, grabbing the prince's shoulder tightly with his good hand. It was an unsuccessful attempt at restraining the boy's apparent anxiety, but at present he could think of nothing else.

Small fingers gripped Conrad's arms, digging deep into his flesh. The blond applied enough pressure to leave indentation marks and perhaps a few miniscule bruises as well. Wolfram glared at the older man and pushed him back. He did not appreciate being handled in such a manner, especially when he couldn't even give a verbal retort.

Surprisingly, Conrad was taken aback by his brother's reaction, even though he was quite used to Wolfram's rebukes by now. He hadn't meant to upset him, but he needed information on his physical well-being, not to mention any knowledge he might be able to share regarding their assailants.

In times of peril, Conrad always remained level-headed and was not easily suaded by emotion. By contrast, Wolfram was highly sensitive and generally let his feelings get in the way of better judgment. Not to say that Conrad didn't have his share of passionate moments, but he wisely kept his feelings in reserve. Only in that brief instant when Wolfram had not responded to him, did a small crack make itself visible in his façade.

Wolfram wished he could exhibit such restraint, but it was simply not a part of his genetic makeup. He knew he should have informed Conrad of his condition as soon as he awoke, but his natural tendency toward obstinacy prevented him from doing so. Even now, he was struggling with the precise way in which he would tell him that he was both deaf and mute. He did not want any pity from the older man. It was bad enough he had been sufficiently beaten on the field of battle and had to be rescued, he could not stomach the idea of Conrad, an accomplished soldier, looking down on him with such repulsive charity.

"I'm sorry," Conrad said, bowing his head slightly.

Wolfram placed a faltering hand on Conrad's wrist, somehow acknowledging his brother's apology even though he hadn't directly heard it.

The older man's head slowly lifted and he regarded the boy with a curious expression that was mingled with a marked seriousness. Wolfram recognized that look and knew that above all else, Conrad's first priority was that of a soldier. The role of guardian and concerned family member came in at a close second. This meant that he needed answers and was in no mood for childish behavior.

Finally, pursing his lips in defeat, he brought a slender hand up to his mouth. This game of charades was altogether humiliating for the young prince, but it was the only way to illustrate his condition to Conrad. With his mouth covered he shook his head, a forlorn expression settling over his features. He had not meant to betray himself by this outward display and silently cursed his body for showing such vulnerability. The air of dignity he had strived to maintain was thoroughly quashed by now and it was just as well. He doubted he had the strength to pursue it any longer.

Letting out a deep sigh he repeated the gesture, even going so far as to open his mouth in a failed effort to speak. Conrad watched him intently, his brows creasing as realization dawned on him. Wolfram scowled at the pitiful look his brother gave him. Pushing his enraged thoughts aside he pointed to his ear and shook his head again. He then brought his hand down to his stomach where it rested atop the rose-colored scar, evidence of his run-in with the houjutsu user.

Conrad's breath caught in his throat. He knew the effects of houjutsu to be severely detrimental to the mazoku race, but he had never heard of anyone who had lost the ability to hear or speak. He hoped this was just a rare case and that the symptoms would soon subside. He couldn't help but feel sympathy towards his little brother; of course Wolfram would never forgive him if he knew. The strong sense of machismo was inherent in the fire-wielder, Conrad knew that well enough. Obviously something deeply rooted in his past, he concluded.

Perhaps it was the aftermath of being abandoned by his father at such a young age, or growing up in a time when the country was engulfed in chaos. It could even have been attributed to the boy's not-so-secret attempt at living in Gwendal's shadow, or a combination of all of the above.

As young as he was when he lost his father, Wolfram had not exactly known the man very well. However, he knew enough to understand that he was unwanted by the very person who had sired him. Many people assumed it was because he was ashamed of Wolfram's obvious effeminate qualities. Conrad believed this was the reason why Wolfram tried with such ardent resolve to harden himself into a stalwart individual. Given the boy's history of holding grudges, he could only concede that he was still trying to earn his father's favor, despite the fact that the man was long dead and gone. It was a moot subject though, and one never spoken of among the occupants of Blood Pledge castle.

Wolfram's eyelids began to droop, as did the rest of his features. He had managed to hold out long enough for his brother, but after sustaining so much damage from the houjutsu, not to mention the use of what little healing powers he possessed in order to help Conrad, his body was completely drained of its energy. The blond finally succumbed to the beckoning darkness, falling limply into his brother's arms.

--

Conrad carefully slid his arms under the boy's prone figure and cautiously lifted him up, holding him close to his chest. Despite all the recent happenings, luck was actually on their side this time. The setting sun shrouded the forest in darkness, neatly concealing them from their pursuers.

A stir of hoofbeats passed nearby and Conrad swiftly took cover behind a cluster of trees. He held his breath as a few riders came within dangerous proximity of their hiding place. One of the soldiers dismounted and began assessing the foliage for any signs that might indicate a disturbance. Fortunately, Conrad was all too knowledgeable in the way of tracking techniques, and while Yozak's skill in this area easily surpassed his own, he knew how to tread lightly and move through the forest with the stealth of a panther.

In fact, when he and his cross-dressing friend were younger, they would often make a game of tracking each other through the hills. Sometimes these little excursions would last for days and to them it was like a glorified version of hide-and-seek. At one point, Conrad had become so adept at it that it took Yozak nearly a week to find him. Of course the red-head was none too pleased at having spent the better part of a week clambering through the woods in search of his best friend, but he had to admit that it did help him hone his hunting skills.

Conrad watched the man under the cover of a bramble bush as he knelt down and scanned the earth for footprints. Sufficiently satisfied with his examination, he mounted his horse and led his companions off. Waiting several minutes for them to complete their departure, he eventually breathed a soft sigh of relief and scooped Wolfram up once more.

All they had to do now was find some form of shelter, make it through the night undetected, and begin the long journey back to Shin Makoku in the morning, all while evading their would-be captors. In that time frame, Conrad hoped to obtain suitable provisions for their trek back to civilization—namely food and water, and with any degree of divine providence a reunion with at least one of their horses, though he placed little faith in that prospect.

The brunet walked a few yards from their previous location and set Wolfram down behind a formation of large rocks, constantly wary of any sound that might indicate the return of their new friends. Despite the boy's light weight it was still a rather difficult task to carry him while Conrad's wrist throbbed relentlessly. A chill was beginning to creep into the air and before long the night would bring on freezing temperatures. It was not yet winter time, but autumn had its share of cold weather.

Conrad remembered to bring Wolfram's coat with him before they departed from the base of the ridge and he carefully draped it over his little brother. It would do for the time being, but a fire would be more adequate. Unfortunately, they could not risk exposing their location, so it was up to Conrad to find accommodations for the night. He gave one last anxious glance at his brother's unconscious form, hoping he wouldn't come around before he returned. The last thing he needed was for the young mazoku to awaken, become fearful of his new surroundings, and stumble blindly through the dark in search of him. Which would be exactly the case knowing his brother's impetuous personality.

The way Conrad saw it, they had a few options available to them, but he couldn't decide which one would be more feasible. Their unexpected tumble down the side of the hill meant they were now at the bottom of a very large valley. Incidentally, they were on the exact opposite side of where they ought to have been, meaning they would either have to navigate over the hill—which would require at least a full day's travel if not more given their method of transportation—or they would have to locate the stream that intersected the land and follow it until it curved back around on the side of the hill that faced Shin Makoku.

If their erstwhile companions were still tracking them, traversing the valley would be a rather troublesome task indeed. No doubt, they would have expected them to follow the running water instead of making the treacherous hike back up the hill. Then again, plan B also had its own set of problems. Would Wolfram be able to make the climb in his weakened condition? To his knowledge, they only had one canteen between them. Would that be enough water for their trip? Then there was the issue of Wolfram's disability. If something were to happen, how would he be able to direct his brother properly? Communication would be difficult, but not impossible he reasoned. If only he had gotten to him sooner during the battle, but even he couldn't have predicted the outcome of their encounter.

Conrad mulled these thoughts around in his head a bit more as he made his way through the overgrown brush. He could hear water up in the distance and was sure they were fairly close to the stream or at least one of its tributaries. If nothing else, he would return with fresh water.

Once out of the coverage of the trees, Conrad could see that the moon was large and full in the night sky. Its light shown brilliantly across the water, casting an eerie glow over the aquatic surface.

The brunet knelt down near the edge of the stream, withdrew his canteen and dipped it into the cold running liquid. Keeping his balance was somewhat awkward as he was unable to put any weight on his left wrist. Instead, he sat on his knees and propped himself up using his elbow as he skimmed the water with his other arm. He brought the bottle to his lips and drank thirstily, emptying it of its contents within seconds and repeated this action once more before refilling it, capping it off, and placing it back in its holster.

A heavy feeling began to sink into the pit of his stomach and before he could muster his sword or turn around cold steel pricked the back of his neck, causing the fine hairs that ran along it to rise. The generally docile man glowered.

"Gotcha," a nasally voice snickered behind him, pressing the tip of the blade into the soft flesh, causing a small droplet of blood to bloom beneath it.

Conrad's eyes narrowed. He was in no mood for this at all.

--

A/N: And there it is! Sorry for another dull chapter, maybe the next one will be more exciting. I thought I'd never get this done. I was interrupted all weekend long. Plus, I had to take a break to play Wii Sports and Mario Kart. So who is this mystery person? I haven't decided yet. Could be friend, could be foe. Btw, just to let you all know I use the terms 'blond' and 'brunet' in the masculine form rather than 'blonde' and 'brunette' (the feminine forms), because obviously I'm referring to male characters. Just wanted to clear that up before anyone corrects me on my spelling. So what do you guys think…is this worth continuing? I don't know. Part of me is like 'blah this sucks' and the other part is all 'hey let's see where this is going.' I guess as long as ppl are still reading I'll keep writing. So please review! Thanks!