Word Count: 6722

“You may go.”

Sehun had been waiting to hear those words since the moment he arrived, but he didn’t immediately get up from the bed. He wasn't even sure he had the strength to close his legs, yet. He felt tired and in pain and it was bright outside, leading to more hesitation. People would be out now that the sun had risen, and he didn’t want to feel their gazes on him again. It was pointless to worry, though. People were always going to stare at him. It wasn't only because of the rumors, it was because of his appearance. The children in particular liked his unusual silver hair. Those were the closest thing to innocent stares that he got.

He averted his eyes from the ceiling and sat up at a slow, pained pace. His hands went down to cover himself out of instinct until he could reach for his clothing. That man was still there, staring at him as he did so, and Sehun tried to pretend he wasn’t there while he got dressed.

When he was about to leave, the man spoke again and Sehun froze in an instant.

“Come back here in two days,” he ordered. “Same time. I’ll have some friends here. Don’t disappoint.” Then a hand grabbed his face and Sehun could only resign himself to staring back at the man. He always hoped the man would burst into flames so he would never have to see him again. Those grey eyes narrowed to near slits and a frown settled deep into his features while he glared at him. If the circumstances had been different, Sehun might have deemed the man somewhat handsome. But all Sehun had ever known of this man was the torment he went through because of him. He knew only the pain and the abuse, and he was unable to think of him as anything other than old and hideous as a result. Sehun had nightmares of this man on most nights and he wanted to be free of it all. “Do you understand?” the man finally demanded.

“Yes, sir,” Sehun responded, voice submissive and quiet. It was his duty to make this man happy. If promising him such deeds made him happy, then Sehun could live another day. After his confirmation of understanding, his face was free of that painful hand. The man stuffed three copper coins in his open palm before Sehun made his quick escape a few short moments later.

The house maids no longer paid any attention to him as he walked through the house towards the front door. He might as well have been a moving piece of furniture for all they cared. They kept their heads up while he kept his down and avoided every one of them. Not a single person smiled at him in this house and no one offered him a kind word. At the very least, Sehun was glad for their indifference towards him. It was at least quiet and for a moment he could pretend he was normal.

Leaving the front door was like walking into another world.

There were people moving about the streets as he had guessed there would be. A few heads turned in his direction as soon as he closed the door behind him. Many looked the first time only because this was the house of one of the town’s only appointed nobles. After the years of war between Eriand and Nimrine, Sir Choi had returned alive with rewards from the king. He risked his life to save the royal line on the battle field and he had the scars on his arms and back to prove it. He became somewhat of a village hero after that and many sought his approval. Sehun even remembered being a very young child and looking up to him as well. Such thoughts had long since banished themselves from his head.

People now looked to this house for the money it could offer. Too bad all they saw half these days was Sehun leaving with a limp in his step. The expressions on many of their faces melted into judgement as he passed. Some of those who chose to say anything bestowed upon him the name of and e and spit in his path. The kinder amongst them called him a comfort to the nobleman; something akin to a courtesan. Sehun did not feel as lucky as that even while looking down at the three copper coins in his hand. He felt dirty and struck with horrible shame. He didn’t want the money any more than he wanted to return to that house in two days. But you do things you must to survive, and Sehun had messed up enough that this was an important part of his survival.

Law in Nimrine was not kind to Sehun. After the war, the king had grown distrusting of magic. He believed magic to be evil and he wanted nothing to do with any of it. The people of Eriand thought something different. They welcomed all magic and thought it a beautiful gift worthy of praise and recognition. This distinction in thought caused a great difference in power that led to Nimrine’s defeat. Peace came to the people of both kingdoms, but the losses incurred were steep. The damage was great and the king passed a new law, ordering all those with magic to leave his kingdom. A grace period went into effect for both humans and creatures of magical origins, and a great exodus began. Within a few weeks, the lands were empty of once flourishing magic.

That was before Sehun was even born. He was still developing in his mother’s womb when she and his father began their journey to the border. They prayed Eriand would be a better place to raise their child.

As they neared the border, it became obvious that Sehun's mother would not make the trip before her baby came. They stopped in the little village named Falita that Sehun would later call home and, much later, a prison.

On the night of his birth, a windstorm picked up even though the weather had been beautiful all day. The power of the winds went far beyond the usual gales the region saw even during their windiest seasons. Adults rushed to get their children inside and businesses shut for the day as the storm raged.

In the healer's hut, Sehun’s mother screamed in agony as she tried to bring her baby into the world. The old woman instructed her on her breathing and directed her pushes, but she couldn't push her baby out. She watched Sehun's mother begin to fade before her eyes, but she kept going.

Hours into the night, a baby's cry was finally heard and his father was finally able to grant him a name.

Haerin died that night, but not without getting to hold her baby boy in her arms first and tell him how much she loved him. She gave the same words to her husband and handed back their son. As her life faded, so did the storm around them. The old healer promised to keep that observation a secret.

Sehun’s father wouldn’t leave the village after that; not with a baby so small. He had to find a wet nurse and then a job to pay for her services. One thing after another happened until his father was stuck in the village as much as Sehun was.

It wasn’t until Sehun was a few years older that what his father feared would happen was in fact coming to pass. He had never told Sehun of his mother’s magical affinity for the wind and air, but now he was learning he needed to. When he was four, Sehun had begun to speak to the empty space in front of him. When he was four, negligible, though still strange, things began to happen around the boy. First, Sehun would manage to get a hold of things beyond his reach. Then he would be some high distance up a tree or on the roof. But more distressing was how the wind picked up anytime he so much as caught a sniffle.

In short, Sehun had received the gift from his mother, and that was dangerous around here. Sehun’s father started to keep a closer eye on his son as he grew older. Every time he caught the boy expressing his powers in ways too obvious, there was hell to pay. No more plucking apples from trees without climbing them himself. No more pushing things from their resting places unless he wanted to get a stool or ladder. It had to remain a secret from the world as long as they lived there. The storms were inescapable, and they would continue to be as such since Sehun had no one to teach him control.

His sole outlet for his gifts came to him the same day his father gave him his first bow and arrow. His father took him deep into the forest to hunt and showed him how to use it. He even encouraged Sehun to use the wind to help his aim if he wished. He only gave Sehun one rule to follow. He couldn’t manipulate the wind and arrow in such a way that ordinary people couldn’t repeat the same tricks. Meaning, if Sehun were facing away from his target and shot, he should not use the wind to turn the arrow to hit his target. Sehun didn't tell him that he could do that. That would let his father know he had been practicing such tricks. Sehun went hunting all the time as a result of having this lone allowance. It released the tension from his shoulders to be able to use his abilities.

Emotions were difficult, though. Getting the sniffles brought up the wind and a raging fever would bring up vicious tempests. Sickness often forced his father to carry him to a stone cave in the mountains to get away from the village. But Sehun’s waves of frustration and anger and sadness would bring the storms as well. The air would shiver with Sehun’s raw anger. Tear that fell from his eyes flew in the winds, plucked away as if they had never happened. These winds tore roofs from houses and trees up by the roots, but Sehun was always in the eye of the storm. He never felt anything more than breeze. The wind protected him from everything.

It was in this manner that Sehun’s powers came to unwanted attentions. It was after a meltdown, one that every teenager experiences at some point or another. Sehun’s frustration and anger brought on his power and it unleashed itself.  The small though threatening tornadoes that resulted around him were telling enough. His father had to grip him by the shoulders and hush him even while Sehun shouted and cursed and struggled away. Neither he nor his father realized that the noble Sir Choi was only a hundred feet away. He had been passing by the entrance to their lands on his way to the forest with his horse. The mare had spooked with the rush of magical wind and came close to bucking her rider right off her back. It wasn’t even until a few days later that Sir Choi made it clear Sehun was in trouble.

“I could report you to the proper authorities and have you taken away,” the man had said.  He kept Sehun frozen in his stare, standing against the wall he had cornered him to. “Or you can do as I say and I’ll keep your powers a secret.” But as soon as Sir Choi told him exactly what he would be doing, Sehun declined. Sir Choi only shrugged and his heels, tossing a few words over his shoulder. "Your father is a traitor for hiding you as long as he has."

It was a clear warning, and one that suspended Sehun's thoughts and dampened his bravado. Sir Choi was not afraid to drag Sehun’s only family into this as well if Sehun didn’t obey. He was counting on Sehun's familial obligations to guide his choices, and it worked. Sehun would rather sacrifice his pride if it meant the only family he had left would live. They struck a deal, and the cocky noble pretended to sweetened it with the offer to pay him for his services. Sehun didn't know when he accepted this offer that it would only serve to make him feel filthy and cheap.

Sehun still didn’t like it, but as long as his father was safe and he still had his life, he could stomp down his pride. To prove he was earnest in his willingness, Sir Choi ordered Sehun onto his knees. Confident he had won, he began to lower his pants for the first time in Sehun’s presence. Unhurried and reluctant, Sehun fell to his knees in front of the man and got to work. Even back then, with the promise of life still fresh in his mind, Sehun wanted it all to end.

Today, Sehun reached home before his father had even finished his morning prayers. Out of habit, he joined his father and knelt before their meager makeshift altar. He whispered the prayers to himself, trying to keep them sincere and hopeful. These days he often found it difficult to believe there was anyone listening. He wondered if the gods had forsaken him on more than one occasion. Sometimes he questioned their existence. If they were there at all, why were they not helping him? His father insisted that if there was no one listening to their prayers, his mother would be at the very least. From the way his father often spoke of her, Sehun almost pictured her as a goddess anyway. He continued to pray every morning so that he could try to imagine what he would say to the mother he never got to know.

At the end of their daily ritual, his father stood from his seated position and went to make breakfast. Sehun stayed to dust the altar and the floor around it as a sign of respect to the gods. When he finished, he went to feed his pet rabbit, whom he had found one day while hunting. Usually, it was not hard for Sehun to shoot small animals. He and his father had to eat, and he had gotten over this particular guilt while young. But for some reason, he chose not to shoot this one. The rabbit had followed him through the woods while he hunted for the next several hours. When it followed him all the way back to his home, Sehun called it his and began taking care of it.

Ever since he was young, Sehun had wanted a pet. They had never had money for a dog like the other kids had. They especially didn’t have the house for a cat like the wealthy women had. His father had vetoed mice when Sehun was a mere five years old. Keeping bugs found in the forest also became a problem when he would forget to screw the lids back on their jars. It was like Sehun could never manage to win.

The rabbit was docile, and he didn’t act like he required much food. He didn't even appear to desire anything extensive. He hopped around their tiny house and demanded scratches and rubs sometimes, but that was all. He did seem to have a fine nose for carrots, though. He always knew when there was extra carrot or two lying around. What Sehun saw as an added benefit was a ready listener. He would turn to the white rabbit when his father wasn't home to empty his mind of his concerns. He would speak about his hate for Sir Choi and crack unfunny jokes about his size to amuse himself. It was all things he kept to himself, and the strange thing was that he felt like the rabbit was actually listening. That was good enough for Sehun on the hard days.

The rabbit hopped after Sehun while he made him a bowl of vegetables. The long ears twitched with interest and so did the whiskers. Sehun smiled down at the little guy and placed his food in front of him. The white rabbit climbed over the lip of the bowl with plenty of verve, eager to devour the tasty morsels. Sehun swore he had never seen something so precious in his entire life before.

Sehun went to join his father in preparing their own simple meal. There was not usually any pomp necessary for their meals. If they had felt like today were special, they might have cooked something over the fire. But it was no one's birthday and no other special occasion had come up. A meal of bread, cheese, and some water was plenty for this morning.

“Did you enjoy your night?” his father asked when he had finished his food. Sehun nodded, the movement automatic and stiff. He had never told his father about Sir Choi's discovery of his secret. He didn’t want him to worry and he didn't want to tell his father of the things he submits to. These days, his father assumed Sehun had gotten himself a girl. It seemed logical when Sehun refused to talk about what exactly he did many nights.