Snow drenched Silhouette

When Juanito was close to the city gates, he maneuvered deftly through the sparse crowd with the intention to enter unhindered.

But to his dismay, a deep, grumpy voice of a man yelled at him while briskly marching towards him. On the man's right hand was a menacing truncheon reminiscent of what the police force in modern earth used to enforce the law.

The man's armament that was purposed to intimidate showcased its immediate effect as evidenced by the dispersed onlookers.

With the man's heavy breathing that reeked of alcohol and obscene eyes borne from acedia, Juanito instantly dumped the guy into the bin labeled as "good for nothing".

Juanito then scanned the man's outfit, a ragged gambeson and a pair of breeches while on his head situated an arming cap. A typical medieval age patrol guard.

"Interesting cosplay.." Juanito could not help but comment loudly, admiring the antiquated outfit which he only saw in movies.

"What did you say!?" the man answered harshly in a raspy tone while tightening his grip on his weapon. Quite evidently, the man felt wronged believing that Juanito mocked him with slang words he was unable to comprehend.

"N-nothing..how can I help you?"

"What were you thinking barging in like that?! Get lost or this baton might find its way on your flesh.."

The man's daunting show of force could easily inspire fear but unfortunately for him, Juanito was unperturbed. However, Juanito opted for a safer approach and danced with the man's tune, acting like a frightened rabbit.

Juanito then spurred his muscles to tremble slightly, as his moistened eyes began to waver and said, "I came from a distant land, caught by the unforgiving winter, I only have some spare coins on my person. If you could allow me passage, I'd happily give you the remnants of my possession."

Juanito's word of vomit gained an immediate effect, the opposite of his expected outcome.

"Do you take me for an idiot!?" the man fussed and continued hurling abusive words at Juanito. "A filthy tramp like you have something of value? Don't joke around!! Scram or else-!"

With his truncheon raised at a dangerous angle, the man urged Juanito to flee the scene but his words fell on deaf ears.

Juanito dug his pockets in search of something but alas, the man's short temper broke from its fragile confines and unleashed an unrestrained attack on Juanito's naked head.

Upon realizing his blunder that would soon reap someone's life, the man found a tenable cause to vindicate himself and escape questioning.

'What does a mere tramp's life amount for, anyway? A vagrant forcing unauthorized entry which was immediately struck down. Thus, peace was restored. He he sounds good..' the man evilly thought without remorse.

*clunk!*

Contrary to his expectations, the anticipated sensation of his club digging into a skull did not arrive. Instead, a numbing feeling wrapped his entire arm as though his nerves rebooted, then suddenly, his fingers heated up followed by a stinging pain.

"Arghh–!!" the man moaned, taking a step back with widened eyes.

Before him was a spectacle too horrible to conceive as reality. The truncheon which he thought slipped from his grasp, was casually seized by the man in front of him.

What brought him further shock though, was the man's unflustered expression, so composed as it was perverse. The absence of the slightest tremor in his voice shouldn't be even possible.

"What's the matter, good sir?" came Juanito's unruffled query.

"..."

The man could only muster an agape mouth, gripped by an inexplicable terror. Seeing Juanito close the distance, he was about to issue a shameful squeal due to panic but Juanito beat him to it.

Pulling out his hand from his pocket, he forcibly shoved five glinting coins toward the patrol guard.

"Here, take my humble offering.."

"W-what?!"

"For your exemplary service in maintaining public order.."

Juanito beamed a genuine smile of appreciation that brought about further confusion to the already stupified patrol guard.

Moments later, the man regained a fraction of his senses and set his gaze on his left palm where a few silvery coins sat. Unbelievably, his right hand was again in possession of his reliable truncheon.

"...H-how?" he muttered in disbelief.

"Drink in moderation.." the familiar voice of the man before him invaded the patrol guard's eardrums as it insisted on giving counsel, "Not only it can cause one's behavior to become impulsive, it also toys with the brain, leading to disconcerting changes in one's perception.."

As the most probable key to making sense of the peculiar situation was presented before him, the patrol guard immediately grasped onto it as his chaotic heart gradually stabilized.

'So that's how it is..damn that Mike! I already knew drinking such a quantity, especially at this time would spell sorts of problems for us yet he still insisted!'

He then returned a haughty look at Juanito, finally realizing his blunder that brought him great shame.

"Are you accusing me of negligent conduct?? I was working the night prior so I am a little tipsy right now..I was working hard, ya' know!"

"I see. Indeed, sleep deprivation has its set of serious effects as well. Not only does it cause one's cognitive ability to deteriorate, but it also elevates the promotion of diseases such as diabetes, heart-"

As Juanito unleased a barrage of unsolicited words, he was cut short by the patrol guard.

"Enough!" the patrol guard yelled. "The Municipality Hall is just ahead, go and apply for your permit.."

Confused, Juanito asked quizzically, "..permit?"

"You'll know when you get there!"

The patrol guard then trailed off, going back to his unmotivated cohorts as they continued with their debauched past time. Juanito fled the scene as well without so much as a sideways glance, marching deeper into the city.

Just mere moments after a peculiar encounter with a strange man, the same patrol guard was jolted awake by a creature with a neigh so vigorous it shook his auditory perception. As expected, his slothful chums were rattled by the sharp din as well.

"..what in the-!"

"..hey, look.."

The group's sluggish vision was inadvertently drawn by a carriage with an intricate design. Undoubtedly, it belonged to quite a prominent figure.

"..You wretched bunch actually dared space out while on duty.." a voice as though it had been uttered behind their ears roused the dreary souls of the patrol guards. Although the tone was as tranquil as a bottomless well, the gravity that yanked their senses was exceedingly potent.

A patrol guard then rushed towards the carriage and delivered a reverent bow albeit shakily "..O-of what may we be of service, your esteemed Lord?"

"You should be manning the gates assiduously and deter any miscreants that step foot in this city. Yet…"

The coachman, with his strands of ivory hair, was radiating unbridled hostility with his somber gaze.

As though on a tightrope in a desperate attempt to balance himself, the guard could only muster incoherent words in response, "A-actually..we, I mean..winter is…"

As the poor guard was about to fold under pressure, a series of gentle knocks echoed from inside the carriage.

The coachman's murderous mood was then curbed as he averted his gaze from the guard. "My apologies, Your Highness.." he said as he ushered the steed forward to their destination.

"Highness..?" the patrol guard silently muttered, his mental facilities in shambles.

Indeed, seated inside the opulent vehicle was someone far more influential and distinguished than the common lords, more famed than the continent's songbird.

Inside the cabin, a woman peeled the curtain away as she was greeted by the deadened weather. Her complexion as if painted with snow, brimmed with untainted youthfulness.

"We're almost there, Princess", the coachman informed, mistakenly reading her mistress' action as a sign of her waning patience.

"..uhhm.." came her listless response.

As her dull transit accrued drowsiness that was on the cusp of developing into a full-blown nap, an odd figure by the tracks caught her attention.

Her pristine eyes which were like ember marbles, dilated ever so slightly when she finally recognized the abnormality before her.

A man on the side of the street was walking steadily as though the snow did not impede his motion. Unlike the residents who quivered and shook, and with a pace of a turtle, the man's steps were serene yet resolute. A march with confidence.

As Fiona Maxwell Forge, Third Princess of Prestal Kingdom overtook the strange man with her coach, she reflexively swiveled around to discern his features but only an obscured front was visible to her.

Azure eyes that glinted behind the cascading snow. Slick, jet black hair, burnished and brushed back. It was such a huge mystery as to how the strands of his hair remained undaunted by the brutal climate.

(Author's Note: Gatsby Stronghold ftw..)

His garments, in addition, were on a different dimension by themselves. A short-sleeved shirt with dark collars, brown trousers with irregular patches of dark colors. Most eye-catching was his footwear which seemed to be made of high-quality material and manufactured elaborately with intricately embroidered patterns.

'Interesting..a foreigner?' she thought with flaring curiosity.