Greetings :)

Last evening I had a writing flash (finally!) and produced this practically overnight (ugh, sleep...). I really love fantasy-AUs so maybe there will be more. This is a One-Shot though. I don't plan to make this into a multi-chapter story.

Just so you know, Sora is somewhere near 9 or 10 years old.

I haven't proof-read this, so if anyone finds mistakes please tell me. I won't notice by myself for a long time otherwise.

Disclaimer: Suprise, suprise I don't own anything. Meh.

Legends

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They were legends.

Stories parents told their children in nights when the Cold became too much and the Grey became unbearable and swallowed everything that was good in this world.

The nights were always there, the parents brave enough to counter them with these stories though were a rare occurrence. Sooner or later everyone fell victim to the hopelessness of the eternal Night. Sooner or later everyone broke under the constant cold and the Grey. The world was dying and with her everything that called her their home.

But the legends… the legends were what was left of the life-force and hope in their dying world. The great stories from before the Night, even from before the Golden Age, from a time so different from theirs that nobody could really comprehend them. In that time where kingdoms and kings long forgotten had wrought wars against each other for centuries, where peace had been a dream only the dead could afford to have and where the blood hat tinted the skies red.

The world had been dying back then as much as it did now, although for very different reasons.

While then there had been too much red, now there was only the Grey that had swallowed all the colors long ago. While there had been too much fire and burning hate now there was only the cold that froze one's body and mind in equal terms. While there had been too much violence and war now there was just lethargy and a slow languishing like poison or a pestilence.

Back then there had been a salvation from all the violence and the war and the destruction. Born into that time of blood had been a boy so pure and innocent like the wide, clear sky. So big had been his heart and so strong his will, that he hadn't been corrupted by those around him and had instead searched and found others like him, cleansed their hearts and formed bonds so strong and unbreakable that they withstood all the violence and chaos. He gathered a big group around him and even though every one of them would have gladly laid down their lives for him, there were seven he cherished like brothers and who loved him as fiercely as he loved them.

And with time they changed the hearts of the others, taught them about love and respect and brought peace into that war-ridden world. But even though the people settled down and healed the land they had abused with their warmongering couldn't. The fire had charred the earth far too long now and the blood had polluted the sky and left it bleeding itself.

So the boy made the ultimate sacrifice and gave up his life and his pure soul to cleanse the land from all the sins and the injuries. The seven, not able to life with their brother gone forever went with him and so they all gave up their souls and merged with the very fabric of the world itself. The earth healed and sprouted life again and the sky changed from the wounded, bloody red to a clear, pure blue, as open and wide as the boys heart had been, welcoming to all. His brothers still protected him and kept him company – may it be as a rolling storm, lazily drifting clouds or just by shining their bright light, as the sun did.

Sora let his fingers glide hesitantly over the smooth stone surface. He'd been named after this sky the stories told of (because his eyes were blue, his parents said and he felt irrationally proud at that fact, even though he'd never seen it) and he'd always listened intently when his parents retold those legends to him and his little sister Kaede, who normally sat on his lap cuddling, instinctively trying to get warm. He didn't understand many of the descriptions, but he always felt a flutter of hope in his stomach. He wasn't old enough to remember a time before the Night, so he didn't know anything else beside Grey and Cold. By the time he had been born the sky had already dimmed to the dull grey it now was and all the colors had fled, together with the storms and the clouds and the sun. He'd never seen anything like the green of the grass or the red of a sundown and although his parents gave their best, he'd never been really warm in all his life. The concept of fire was foreign to him and he couldn't help but fantasize about it whenever he got the chance.

Again he touched the stone walls lightly, feeling their cold smoothness under his fingertips. There were darker spots, as if someone had painted something onto the stone. Sora squinted and tried to distinguish shapes in the dim not-light. It seemed to be a written text and Sora let it be. He couldn't read, like most of his peers. Between fighting for life and fighting against each other was no time to learn something that was nearly impossible due to the bad lighting.

Looking up from the text and trying to discern which way to go the young boy slowly padded forward, fingers never leaving the stone surface and naked feet making slapping noises on the cold floor. There was a lot of rubble and dust, but that was no wonder, given the fact that this temple was abandoned for over fifty years now. Maybe it was even the last one – they had made sure to destroy everyone they found. This one probably only still existed because it was such a small one, that even before they came and the Night began the people had forgotten it – or so his grandfather said, one of the last ones to remember that time.

There were other shapes on the walls now, pictures that looked like men with spears and swords and some figures looked as if in great pain. Sora wondered if they were drawn in color. Again he let his fingers glide over the pictures, as if hoping to feel the colors when he couldn't see them.

It didn't work and Sora continued his march into the even darker darkness of the temple. All the while he kept his eyes glued onto the walls, trying to find even one little bit of color on it.

So focused he was, that his normally nimble feet got caught onto one of the boulders lying on the floor, sending him crashing face-first to the ground. Catching himself out of reflex with his arms Sora avoided losing a few teeth and a bloody lip but scrapped his hands against the sandy stone floor. A hiss of pain escaped his lips, both from his stubbed toe and the now slightly bleeding hands but every swear word that lay on his tongue died a silent death at the sound of falling stones not too far behind him.

Ice cold fear gripped Sora's heart in a vice-like grip. If they somehow followed him…

Without moving even an inch Sora peered behind him at the dark, searching for every sign of a black cloak or bone-pale bandages, ears open for every sound like the jingling of chains, the swishing of fabric…

After what felt like ages of not moving, all senses stretched as wide as they could Sora allowed himself to relax and get up from his uncomfortable position. When you grow up in a world that is almost dead you learn pretty quickly that fear is a weakness you can't afford to have if you want to live. But they, the dark Ones, the Vindice, they managed to inflict fear even in the most cold-blooded street fighter.

They were the ones that darkened the sky and brought the cold and the Grey. They were the ones who sucked the life out of their world and made it so that it's always night and always dark, that there is no more fire and no more color.

Nobody knew why or how they did it. They came like shadows and they were evasive like shadows and whoever approached them too far or was deemed a threat was swallowed by the dark and never seen again. Everywhere they went they left Death and the lingering feeling of fury and revenge behind. They were like the Dark incarnate and Sora wanted them gone.

Now shivering all over (from fear and nerves, the cold long ago stopped bothering him that much) Sora proceeded walking, no longer paying attention to the paintings on the wall, desperate to reach the inner sanctuary, before they actually found him. He had made his decision and he couldn't afford to be stopped now.

No, he wouldn't be stopped. He knew what to do and he would do it, for the sake of his parents and for the rest of his poor, dying world.

Determination quickened his steps until he was nearly running, jumping over rubble and slipping on the sandy surface. The long tunnel opened into a large room, pillars supporting a high ceiling with an altar opposite of the tunnel-opening and Sora knew he was in the sanctuary. Abruptly he stopped his mad run, not wanting to be impolite and walked at a more sedate pace to the altar, eyes fixed onto the wall behind the low stone table. Even from this distance he recognized the painting:

Seven people, all of them with proud and regal figures and at the same time appearing friendly and inviting. They stood in a half circle and behind them were other people, emitting the same feeling of friendliness and dignity if less pronounced. And in the middle, surrounded by them all was a person so radiant and pure, even without the effects of color, that Sora had no doubt that this was the boy from the legends, who became the sky and healed the world from her deadly injuries centuries ago.

Sora stood there, entranced and fascinated, drinking in every centimeter of the drawing and reveling in the feeling of hope that suddenly made his previously heavy heart by far lighter.

Yes, his decision was the right one. Here, were he could feel the presence of these people, who had sacrificed themselves to safe a world from death, here he could feel relieved and contend with his choice. Here he could do the same and sacrifice himself for his world.

Slowly he walked the last meters and then knelt before the altar, dipping his head in respect for the people this temple was dedicated to, mentally going through everything his grandfather had ever said about addressing the deities. He had thought about what to say on the whole trip to the temple and was pretty sure that it was respectful enough, but he had never done something like this before and he was nervous.

When he started speaking his voice echoed in the empty sanctuary, thrown back from the high ceiling and the walls and he almsot stopped in shock. Instead he took a deep breath and continued.

"My Lords, I greet you and apologize for troubling you in these times, but my heart is heavy with grief and I don't know who to turn to but you."

Sora lifted his head and looked at the painting again, taking solace in the smiling faces.

"I am sure You already know about the condition down here, but I'm going to say it anyway: The land is dying. After You sacrificed yourselves, my Mama and Papa and grandpa say, there was a Golden Age full of peace and happiness and everything You taught them about being nice and help each other was done. But then…" Sora took a shuddering breath but went on, a fierce determination settling inside him, "But then they came. The Vindice. They took away all the colors and all the warmth and they made it so that it's always night. And they killed many people and let many more die because of the Night. And now everybody who still lives loses hope and dies anyway, because this world is about to die."

Sora felt tears prick in his eyes, but he managed to hold his voice steady. "But I don't want it to!"

"I don't want this world to die! There are so many things to explore and so many things I've never seen, but they sound so beautiful when Mama and Papa tell about them, and I don't want them to just vanish! I want to see the green grass and the blue sky and if my eyes really are as blue! I want to see a storm raging, and lightning and rain. I want to see the sun, and flower and a bonfire! Yes, I want to sit around a bonfire with my family and hear songs, and laugh with them and be warm and see the stars, like grandpa told me! I don't want this all to end before it really started!"

By now there were tears streaming down his face, leaving cold trails behind, but he didn't care. A small part of him wondered if he was disrespectful by shouting and he took a moment to compose himself. When started speaking again it was in a quiet tone.

"I don't want it to end." he repeated. "But I don't know how to stop it, how to stop them. I'm just a little boy. I'm not special or pure or something like that. I don't have a special ability and I'm not innocent. I have stolen, everybody does that, but that doesn't make it better. And maybe I have even killed somebody, I don't even know for sure. So, I don't know what I could do to stop them."

"But You, You already saved the world. You're special and You're innocent and real heroes! You would know what to do and You could save the world again!"

Sora knelt even deeper and touched the cold stone floor with his forehead.

"Please," he begged. "Please help us! I know it's not fair to ask you of something like that, especially after everything You already did, but please, please safe us! This world can't die yet! Please!"

He waited like that, eyes closed shut and breathing heavily. The drip, drip of his tears against the floor was the only sound in the sanctuary. The silence was deafening after his little speech and with each second ticking by Soras heart grew heavier.

After a few minutes of waiting Sora straightened and released a shuddering breath. Of course they wouldn't answer to something like that. He couldn't expect them to simply swoop down and save the world again simply because some filthy boy asked them to. Everything has a prize. For everything you get you have to give something.

Slowly he reached into his tattered sleeve and pulled the knife out. It was almost warm, having been in contact with his skin for so long. Sora turned it a little bit, so that the not-light glimmered at its edge and regarded it for a few moments. It was one of the two cooking knives his mother owned. He had stolen it yesterday evening, when nobody was looking. This one his mother used for meat at the rare times they had some. It wasn't that sharp, its cutting edge dulled by the many usages. He'd have to use a lot of strength, to…

His voice was a whisper now, sending haunting echoes around the sanctuary.

"I knew it wouldn't be this easy. After all, last time you all gave your life, so… I guess I just hoped- I just really wanted to see it. The sky and the light and all the colors… It doesn't matter now. I knew it would end like this. Some things just aren't meant to be, it seems. Kaede will have to see it all for me. And Mama and Papa. They can't remember anything from before the Night. And grandpa will be so happy. He's on the verge of giving up and let go, I just know it. So they'll have to be happy for me, too. They'll be happy."

Once again he looked at the painting, eyes locked at the man in the middle, the sky.

"I can't offer you much. I don't have any riches and I don't have any food, but I don't think You'd want that anyway. All I have to offer is me. As I said, I'm not pure and I'm not innocent, but… it's all I have. I really hope it is enough." He made a last bow to the painting. "Please, help them, save this world and make them happy!"

Then he straightened again and gripped the knife with both hands. They were shaking and he took a deep breath and willed them to stop. He couldn't show weakness now. This was for his families' happiness. This was for his world! Was his resolve that weak?

He took another deep breath and closed his eyes. He couldn't bear to look at the painting anymore, at those eyes who seemed so friendly and inviting and yet so disapproving all of the sudden. And he couldn't bear to look at the knife. He did the right thing. He did the right thing! He had to do this, for the sake of his family!

He took another deep breath. Right. The knife. Best he go for the heart. Quick and painless… hopefully. And hopefully he didn't get diverted by the rips. Maybe he should set it directly on the skin. He could aim wrong.

Shivering Sora guided the cold tip of the knife to rest directly over where he thought his heart was. He could feel it beating anyway, loud and strong. Not much longer.

Sora willed his hands to stopped shaking and directed his last thoughts to his family. To his frail but strong grandpa. To his parents, who loved each other dearly but were losing hope. To his little sister with the bright hair he always thought had to be the color of sunshine. Now he'd never find out.

Stop it!, he scolded himself. Don't make this any more difficult.

So instead he took another deep breath and searched for what his grandpa called inner peace. He deliberately calmed his breathing and his shaking hands and searched deep inside himself for some peace.

And suddenly he was warm. And not just almost warm, but warm. From his toes to his fingertips spread a sudden warmth, nearly a heat engulfing him with a feeling that was entirely new to him, but so pleasant that a unbidden smile crept onto his face. So that was warmth. It was wonderful.

He took aim.

A picture appeared before his inner eye. It was light, with a warm color that reminded him of late afternoons and a setting sun he'd never seen. It flickered gently and the heat doubled, but not uncomfortably so.

So that is how fire looks. It's more beautiful than I thought.

Without another thought he collected strength in his arms and pushed the knife towards his heart-

Only to be intercepted by a warm hand on his.

Sora jerked and tore his eyes open. What-

He looked at the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. A soft, delicate face, spiky, soft hair in the color of sweet cocoa, eyes, so open and entrancing that Sora couldn't help but gape and stare. This man struck him as familiar but at the same time he couldn't remember to have ever met somebody so… ethereal.

"Don't do that, please. There is no need to spill yet even more blood."

The voice was as soft as his eyes and Sora couldn't bring himself to react, still staring openmouthed. Only as the stranger took with gentle but firm fingers the knife Sora still tightly gripped in his hands and threw it behind him on the floor, where it landed with a metallic clatter, he managed to produce a slightly breathy "What?".

"Tch, he doesn't seem that intelligent now. Maybe his brain got fried."

Sora snapped his head to the direction of this new voice and almost keeled over from shock. There were people standing around him and the soft-eyed stranger, positioned all over the room and observing him with diverging degrees of interest. The one who had spoken had his arms crossed and held an odd mixture of disdain and fondness in his sea-foam colored eyes.

At this observation it hit Sora with yet another revelation: There were colors. And light. Evenly spread around the room were seven bowls and within each flickered a different colored flame, merrily dancing and casting colorful light on the men (and one woman) scattered in the sanctuary.

Sora registered somewhere in his mind that he was still gaping, but couldn't change it. This was just too much.

"Hm, really not that intelligent it seems. Looks as if he's trying to catch flies." drawled the teenager leaning on the altar. He had wavy dark locks and his startling eyes (the one that wasn't closed, anyway) were the color of leaves in the summer. They seemed to spark, even though the teen seemed almost bored.

Sora shut his mouth with a click at this comment, as the soft eyed one answered with: "Don't be so mean, Hayato, Lambo. He's been through a lot and this must be quite a shock to him." The stranger laid a hand onto Sora's head and ruffled his hair slightly. "Ne, Sora-kun?"

Sora found that he still couldn't react other than blinking. One of the men, with dark hair and a smile that made Sora want to smile back laughed cheerfully, making the sanctuary ring with echoes.

"Haha, he really seems to be shocked. We're not that strange, are we?"

The one with the sea-foam eyes directed his attention to the smiley one and Sora found himself slightly relieved. "Baka, of course eight people appearing out of nowhere are strange. And with you laughing like the idiot you are all the time I'd gape too."

While the smiley one just laughed, one of the others, with dark hair the color of ripe grapes and two different eyes (one like blood, the other like the deep sea) chuckled darkly. There was a girl standing beside him, that looked as if she was his younger sister.

"Kufufufu, dear Tsunayoshi-kun, it really seems as if he's a little dense. One should think he'd have expected something like this. He's the one who literally begged us to come."

Sora felt a shiver wandering up his spine as the mismatched eyes focused on him, mockingly amused. But then realized what the creepy man had said and his mouth fell open again. "You- you mean you're- you're-"

Before he could embarrass himself even more the soft-eyed one took his hand from Sora's head and gave a small bow that had him gaping even more and left the sea-foam-eyed spluttering something about degrading himself, that the soft-eyed one ignored with a small smile.

"Ah, sorry, I forgot to introduce us. I'm Tsunayoshi, but you can call me Tsuna. The scowling one with the silver hair and the green eyes is Hayato, the smiling one is Takeshi and white haired one with the bandages is Ryohei."

Said person pumped his fist and very nearly yelled: "It's extremely good to meet you, Sora!"

The boy didn't respond, ogling the tall man in awe. He looked so strong with all the muscles! Surely he'd never lose a street fight.

"Well, the two over there are Chrome and Mukuro", the soft-eyed – no, Tsuna – continued, indicating the two siblings with the grape-hair. Sora noted that the girl had an eye-patch over her right eye. She was very pretty. "And that is Lambo." The teenager at the altar opened one eye and blinked lazily, said "Yo" and closed it again, seemingly not caring about Sora or the rest.

"Lastly, the one standing over there is Kyouya.", Tsuna said and gestured to a corner lying in shadows. Sora squinted and recognized the tall frame of a man and the glinting of something metallic. He quickly averted his eyes, feeling like a lamb being observed by a hungry lion.

He looked to Tsuna again and the young man sent him a dazzling smile, almost blinding Sora and leaving once again a warm feeling in his chest. "It's nice to meet you, Sora-kun."

Once again Sora snapped his jaw shut and tried himself at speaking, his voice shaking slightly: "You… you're the ones from the legends. You're the ones who saved the world back then, the ones who became the sky and the storm and the sun… You're the Seven and the boy with the pure heart, like the sky, Tengaku-sama! You really came!"

Now he knew why Tsuna seemed familiar. The picture didn't do him justice, but there was an undeniable similarity.

Said man scratched the back of his head and smiled sheepishly and Sora observed with fascination the blush spreading across his cheeks. "I'd really prefer you wouldn't call me that. Just call me Tsuna. It's kind of embarrassing…"

The one with the smile, Takeshi, laughed again and then slung his arm around the shorter mans shoulder. "Haha, but Tsuna, it's the truth. I don't know anybody else who hates fighting as much as you do and has such a kind heart. You shouldn't be embarrassed."

Hayato, the scowling one, took an irate step towards Takeshi. "Baka, that's why Tsuna-sama is Tsuna-sama. Of course he should be remembered as a hero and worshipped as one."

Tsuna watched on with a strangely pained expression, as if he'd heard these words a lot and didn't really agree. "Hayato…"

"Kufufufu, before you two start fighting again I want to get out of here. This place stinks like a tomb." Mukuro wrinkled his nose and regarded the room with disdain.

"Pineapple head is right," exclaimed Ryohei, his voice as loud as ever. "It's extremely stuffy in here!"

Mukuro stopped looking around and fixed the muscle-y man with a glare and a twitch in his blood-colored eye. "Pineapple head?" Sora noticed that the girl seemed to suppress a giggle.

They were interrupted by a gruff voice from the shadows. "Hn, crowding herbivores." Kyouya, the man whom Sora had almost forgotten, pushed himself off the wall he'd been leaning against and made his way to the tunnel that led to the exit. Mukuro "kufufu"ed and followed him after a few moments, the girl, Chrome, trailing closely behind.

Hayato turned at their retreating form and raised a fist. "Oi, what do you think you're doing, bastards?"

They ignored him and were soon swallowed by the darkness of the tunnel.

Tsuna sighed and turned to leave too. "It's okay, Hayato. I don't like it in here too. But we better don't lose them, who knows what they'd do otherwise. Let's follow them."

"H-hai, Tsuna-sama." Hayato hurried at the young man's side, seemingly not wanting to be left behind. Takeshi once again laughed and followed at a more sedate pace. "Let's go, Lambo."

The teen grunted and strolled after them.

At that moment Tsuna seemed to notice something and stopped, turning around and looking back. "Sora, don't you want to come along. You can't stay here."

Sora blinked and felt as if he got out of a trance. Realizing that he still knelt on the floor before the altar he hurried to stand up and performed a flustered bow. "H-hai, Tengaku-sama."

Tsuna blinked, obviously taken aback and then corrected him. "Ah, please, don't call me that. As I said, just call me Tsuna."

Sora faltered and then bowed again. "Hai, Tsuna-sama."

Said man heaved what appeared to be a resigned sigh and then motioned for the boy to come along. "Let's go. I'm not entirely comfortable with leaving Mukuro and Kyouya alone for so long."

Hayato snorted and then the little group proceeded towards the exit a little bit faster than before. Sora followed in a daze, now and then stumbling over the rubble. He couldn't believe it. They really came. He walked with the Seven and Tengaku-sama. They really answered his plea for help, and now everything would get better, he was sure of it.

The small part of his brain that was not filled with awe commented on how … different these people were. It wasn't the looks, beautiful as they were, everyone in his own way, and it wasn't how they seemed to glow in some kind of light, that made Sora feel warm and safe and that lit the dark hallway enough to really see something. No, it was their behavior. They bickered a lot, Hayato seemed to be rash and easy to anger, Takeshi was almost stupidly cheerful and Mukuro and Kyouya were downright scary, but all of them seemed to have a bond that was hard to describe. They seemed to be perfectly comfortable around each other, completely in tune- heck, they even moved concerted. Sora didn't even have this kind of harmony with his sister, and they were exceptionally close, especially in these times of backstabbing and not-caring.

The legends really were true.

They reached the exit and Sora couldn't help the stab of disappointment as they stepped into the not-light of the Night. Of course it wouldn't be better instantly, but a small part of him had hoped.

A small sigh of relief came from his right as Tsuna spotted Kyouya, Mukuro and Chrome standing not too far away regarding the scenery and completely ignoring each other. Then the young man looked around himself and pain and sadness flashed across his features. Sora looked away and instead observed the landscape he was so accustomed to.

Barren hills, rocks sticking out of the earth like splintered teeth and a few half-dead trees, looking more like bones than anything even remotely living. And everything was grey. It wasn't pretty, but it was all Sora knew. For the others however it had to be a shock.

A rough curse travelled across the plain land and Sora knew it to be Hayato without looking up. He didn't want to see their pained faces. He'd seen enough pain to last a lifetime.

"This is bad", someone commented and Sora looked up anyway. Mukuro had his lips pressed tightly together but otherwise didn't seem faced, although he had an arm slung around Chrome who had her hands clasped around her mouth and seemed ready to cry.

In Lambo's eyes was righteous fury.

Ryohei was unnaturally quiet, Takeshi didn't smile and Hayato was still cursing under his breath. Kyouya didn't show any emotion and Sora couldn't see Tsuna's face.

He was somewhat thankful for that.

"We should decide what to do." Takeshi said, all cheerfulness gone.

Nobody answered, so Sora dared to speak up. "You can come to my house, if you want. I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind. Really, it would be an honor."

It took another few moments in which the living legends took in the state of their beloved land in silence, before Tsuna nodded. "Thank you, Sora-kun, but that won't be necessary."

"Tsuna-sama?" inquired Hayato. "Do you have a plan?"

The others looked up, regarding the young man with expectation and determination. Tsuna nodded again and finally looked up from the ground he had fixated the last minutes.

"Yes. I don't like it, but it seems we have to fight again. I won't let those Vindice destroy everything we worked so hard for. I won't let this world that we sacrificed so much for, simply die by their hands."

Sora swore he could see the flames he'd seen in the temple, moments before he had pushed the knife towards his heart, in these determined, suddenly hard eyes.

"We'll fight. But first, we have to find the others."

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