If one could just by some divine force of this world, forget that a war was happening, Xymn would do anything for that to happen to him. A terrible war between his people and the snow elves had been going on for hundreds of years. It was a warm Xymn would do anything to stop and forget about. He had lost the ability to do the activities he most enjoyed. For example, wander Revaliir, go out for rides, search for brave men and women who had many exciting adventures to tell him. But now, with snow elves around every corner, nothing was safe anymore. The only places he could go, was the castle, and a small ice iceberg that neither the snow elves of the oceanites had adventured on. There was a beautiful tree made from ice, surrounded by a river made of the clearest waters he had ever seen. Every day, at the crack of dawn, he would sneak out through his window and swim to the island, or, if any air ships happened to be passing through, he would catch a ride. The iceberg was no bigger than a few kilometres long and several kilometres wide, but in the center stood the tree. Then, at the last rays of sun, he would venture back to the castle, and sneak into his room. Nobody ever wondered where he was going. Mostly because he said that he had just shut himself inside his room. And of course everyone believed him. The tree was one place he could think clearly without having the sting of blood assault his nose. He'd come with nothing more than himself, and the ring his older brother gave to him before he went missing. And he'd sit there and think.

About how his life would become much better if everyone forgot about the war…
About how if the war didn't happen none of his siblings would be dead..
About how if his father called off his troops he could venture back into the world…
About anything but the war…

"Xymn. Where do you think your going at this hour?" The voice rang through the darkness like a bell. The boy froze in his tracks, and looked over to see his mother still in her night dress. "Nowhere, mother. Just.. going to make some tea." He said, and hurried off. "Well then you wouldn't mind if I join you, would you?" His mother followed after him quickly. She rested a firm hand on his shoulder. "Mon Amour, the kitchen is this way." She cooed softly. Xymn sighed, and followed his mothers lead into the large kitchen. She walked over to the large marble cupboards, and got out a white tea kettle. "Gamin, I know your secret." She smiled, and poured fresh water into the kettle, and set it over a fire. "What secret, Mère?" He said, fiddling with his hands under the table. "You always visit the ice berg with the tree, do you not, Doux?" She said, pulling her robes closer to her frail body. "<How did you know, mother?!>" He said, standing up suddenly. She just smiled and chuckled softly. "<Your my son, I should've known you'd find that island sooner or later.>" As the kettle started steaming, she took it off the fire and poured it into two cups. "Peppermint?" She asked, smiling."Yes please, Mère." Xymn responded, as his mother pulled out a peppermint tea bag and set it in the water. "Drink up. This should warm you before you venture out into the cold. But be quick. The palace will pass the island in less than 10 minutes." His mother whispered. At this, Xymn was taken back. "Your letting me go? I thought you would be angry, or at least disappointed." His mother smiled warmly, and shook her head. "I was as adventurous as you when I was your age. Did you know that?" She picked up her tea cap, and walked out of the kitchen, letting the doors close with a loud echo. 

As Xymn stood outside the castle and right on the edge of the castles entrance to the outer circle of the dry dock ice berg, he breathed in the smell of the fresh sea water, and felt every drop of water the splashed against his skin, and heard the wind howling and whipping through his hair. These sensations were only felt on the outside of the safety of his palace walls. Where he only had one life, and he chose to live it as on-the-edge as possible. As the Palace approached the island, Xymn prepared to step onto the land that was so foreign to him, but yet so familiar. Then, the palace and the island aligned, and Xymn closed his eyes, and stepped onto the island slowly. As he did, the snow below him sprang up, and swirled around his body and through his hair. "Strange…" He said. The snow had never done this when he stepped on the island. As he did, the palace drifted away into the horizon. He took a deep breath, and started walking towards the tree. Each step he took, the snow sprang up like every last step he took. As he reached the tree, he finally sat down below it, and sighed. The snow fell again over his body and eyelashes. He closed his eyes as he let the snow blanket him. Suddenly, he felt an arm wrap around his waist, and something sharp and cold up to his neck. He opened his eyes suddenly, and was taken by surprised. A snow elf leaned over him, wrapping his left arm around Xymns waist, and a silver blade to his neck. "Who are you?" The elf spoke, and pressed the knife harder against Xymns neck. 

"Training never comes easy, I can tell you that much." His fathers words rang out over the large banquet hall. "As young warriors, it is my responsibility to make sure you are prepared for anything and everything." The pale yellow eyes practically engraved in his fathers skull shone with an anger, and a fire, and a passion. A look his son, who stood just outside the large stone doors, had never seen in his father. This was a traditional ceremony his father, the emperor of Fortress Snow, held every time he took in new soldiers. Every male snow elf by his 8th birthday should be properly trained in basic combat skills. By the time the elf is 12, he should be fully accustomed to swordsmanship, and by the time the elf is 16, he should be familiar with all forms of martial arts and magikal abilities. That is when the elf is allowed to enter into battle. Jiang had watched his father hold this ceremony ever since he was just four years old. He was never allowed to attend this ceremony, until he was 18 of course, but he always thought it was fun to see who the new recruits were. It is in rules of the Fortress Snow that the heir to the throne, or Jiang, was not allowed to participate in any wars or battles, in case of unexpected death. This was a rule that Jiang hated the most. Jiang was a real sadist, and loved the sight and smell of blood. He lived for the adrenaline of the battle, and he loved the smell of fear his opponents radiated when they say him charging into battle. But because of the stupid things called rules, he couldn't do anything besides train. He pulled himself away from the door, and walked calmly back to his room in the west wing of the Fortress Snow. He opened the large sterling doors, and collapses on his lush bed made from the finest silks and cloths.

"A visit to the Ice Tree might do you some good. Your not feeling to good, are you not?" A voice called to him from the door way, as a old and frail elf with short white hair, icy blue eyes and a long white dress came into his room and sat down next to the male elf. "It might, but it'll take to long to travel down the mountain. Unless I use the ice path." Jiang sat up next to his mother, and sighed. "You don't really like the ice path, do you?" The old elf smiled, and chucked softly. Jiang rolled his eyes, and stood up. "I won't be gone long. I'll come back before sunrise." Jiang said, and exited his room through a small door behind his bookshelf. Behind the door, stood a large and steep hill made from ice, that swerves through the mountains, then goes directly to the south side of the Ice Tree. Jiang took a deep breath, then stepped over the ice hill, gliding down the path, and gaining speed. The ice path wound between trees and rock formations, and dove into deep tunnels, then eventually lead to the sea, where there was a short stretch of ice before landing on the Ice Tree Island. Jiang stepped of the ice bridge just before it melted into the snow and water. Instead of the snow being soft and fluffy, it crunched under his feet. "Someone else is here." Jiang said, and began moving to the ice tree at a quick pace. The Ice Tree Islands' snow is only soft to the people with the clearest heart. Since Jiang was the only one on the island most days, it was always soft. But now, there was someone else, someone more pure of heart. And Jiang wanted them off his island.

As Jiang began to see the tree more clearly on the horizon, he began to slow his pace, making sure the snow crunched under his feet as silently as he could possible muster. Coming along from behind the tree, he watched as a handsome young oceanite approached the tree. He was in awe, because his only knowledge on oceanites had only been told to him in stories that oceanites were horrible and ugly sea monsters who has an unquenchable thirst for elf blood. He had never seen any creature more beautiful than the approaching Oceanite. He snapped back into reality once he saw the bastard sword he carried on his belt. He must be planning something. He must be planning to cut this tree down. The elf thought, as his brow furrowed. I'll have to strike when he is least expecting it. As the Oceanite sat down under the tree and closed his eyes, Jiang pulled out his dagger, and crept up in front of the Oceanite, raising the dagger over his head, then he paused. He watched as the snow landed gently on his eyelashes and hair, coating him with an aura of pure innocence. There is no way I can possible hurt such a pure and innocent creature. Jiang sighed, and bent down in front of the boy, and wrapped his left arm around his waist gently, and held the knife to his neck. He watched as the Oceanite opened his eyes in shock and fear. Jiang was started more. His eyes were not that of a hungry and raging beast. His eyes were gently and lonely. And beautiful beyond compare. These were the eyes of a true pure and innocent being. "Who are you?" Jiang finally managed to spit out, pressing the knife against his soft skin, stroking his thumb against the oceanites waist as if saying "I'm not going to hurt you." 

The feeling of uneasiness had crept into his mind around the first few minutes of his journey onto the Ice Island, but he could've never thought that the feeling would come from a Snow Elf. He had felt the snow over his face and hair, and he had heard the foot steps approaching, but he had just summed it up to being some other Oceanite. Probably my mother, who had followed me. But why would her footsteps be louder than mine? The snow here is as soft as a feather pillow.

The silver that touched his neck burned his skin, and the arm around his waist was toned, and ox-like. But the hand that rested over his hip, and the thumb that caressed his side gently was soft. He stared into the elf's cold and menacing golden eyes, trying (But undoubtedly failing) to hide the fear inside his eyes. Unlike he had been told, the elf was more attractive than he could've imagined, having been told in stories by his father and grandfather that snow elves had the appearance of a orc and ogre combined. But the elf was ravishing in both face and physique. He relaxed slightly, but the blade pressed against his neck harder, and he tensed once more. He had almost forgotten that the elf had asked a question. Who. Are. You? The elf stated, tightening his grip on both the blade and his waist. The question surprised the Oceanite. Can't he see who I am? He's a snow elf, and I thought I was an enemy to all. I thought the snow elves wanted me head! He blinked slowly. I guess I'll have to lie about who I am. He took in a deep breath, and closed his eyes.

My name, is… Sylar. I'm.. a Merchant. He managed to whimper out, almost to himself. He bit his lip. Dammit! Probably not my best fake names, but he had to believe it, right? They're more brawn than brains, thats for sure. He opened his left eye slowly, which was followed by his right eye, and he met the cold, and skeptical eyes of the snow elf. Shit… he didn't believe me. The Oceanite winced silently, as the blade pressed against his neck once more, and he braced himself for the first and final blow of the snow elf's specially crafted silver blade.