Hello there! This is my first fanfic, and honestly, I'm not quite sure if it's good enough...heh. This is a very AU fanfic, in a fantasy, slightly medieval setting. I tried my best to fit everything together, and please tell me if you find anything that doesn't sit right.
Here is a very brief introduction (sorry, sorry!) :
There is a great Kingdom of Cielo, ruled by the Vongola Monarchy. The original first member, Giotto, led his family and friends from beyond the sea to this land and built a great kingdom, ruled currently by the Ninth King. On the outskirts of this kingdom is Namimori, where Tsuna, a poor misfit, resides. The other characters will be explained later.
(Tsuna is 14, like he is in the manga, and everybody else is also the same as the manga, except for Reborn. He is...well, it will be explained.)
Oh yes-this story was a little awkward to write, since the character's names are Japanese, but the setting isn't Japanese at all. -_-
Anyway, I really hope you enjoy, dear reader! (Again, sorry for the long intro..)
Chapter 1
Caw. Caw.
The sound of black crows resonated in the air above, and Sawada Tsunayoshi looked up.
This morning, the sky was a dark grey, dotted with ominous clouds threatening rain and bad weather. There was hardly any sun, and a light mist blanketed the entire village.
Tsuna looked back down and readjusted his grip on the handle of the pail. Heavy water sloshed around inside the pail, and the small boy struggled along, trying not to trip.
Alas, an evil rock destroyed his efforts.
SPLASH.
Tsuna flew forward- pail, water, and all- landing not-too-gracefully onto the ground.
THUD.
After a few seconds of lying there in defeat, Tsuna groaned and lifted his face from the dirt. Damn his luck. Now he had to go all the way back to the stream, and by the time he got back, mother would be awake. He had wanted to surprise her today with some fresh water and flowers.
It had also been one of the rare mornings he had woken early, too...
With that thought in mind, Tsuna quickly lifted himself up from the soggy ground, swept the bucket into his arms, and dashed back to the stream as fast as his scrawny legs would carry him.
"Hey, don't you think this dress looks nice on me, Master Gokudera? Daddy gave it to me."
The silver-haired boy didn't even bother to look up as the annoying girl twirled in a dainty circle, showing off her new dress.
If it was actually new. He really did not care if was new or not, pretty or ugly, clean or dirty.
Well, maybe if it was dirty. Then he would have an excuse to kick her out of the library study.
"You." He almost snarled.
The girl stopped, but still giggled. How annoying. Was she drunk?
"Yes~, dear Master Gokudera?"
It took all of his willpower to not throw her halfway to Namimori.
"Get. Over. Here." He was gritting his teeth.
She blinked rapidly, sighed, and plopped herself down onto a chair in front of Gokudera.
"Open. Book. Now."
Pouting, the girl languidly reached over to the dusty book on the table, titled History of Etiquette in Kingdom of Cielo, and flipped open the cover of the book nonchalantly.
What kind of attitude was that?
Gokudera Hayato chomped down on his tongue as it threatened to leak insults. This was the daughter of the Head Master of Wardrobes, who served the Ninth King, who was the ruler of the Kingdom. He would not let his temper -or annoying, stupid little girls for that matter- get in the way of his work.
"Page 489. Flip."
The girl rolled her heavily done eyes and leaned back in her chair. "Master Gokudera, you're too serious. Lighten up and give me a kiss, will you? History is soo boring."
Something inside Gokudera snapped. History...is boring? Lighten up? A kiss?
For the love of...
Gokudera turned his head toward the girl.
One look from him, and she was running out the door screaming, all history of etiquette forgotten.
Eyes closed, he let his inner awareness spread.
Batting stick in his hand, legs poised, body tensed and shifted slightly towards his right...
There. He could feel the slight change in the wind as it flew to him.
Eyes snapping open, Yamamoto Takeshi prepared his swing.
Timing had to be perfect. Timing was everything in this game.
CRACK.
Yamamoto felt his arms vibrate with pure force as the bat made contact with the ball. He then watched with satisfaction as the ball soared over the field, growing smaller and smaller before it disappeared into the sky completely.
"Yes!" He pumped his fist in the air victoriously and laughed. His teammates behind him cheered wildly, and the opposing team on the field grumbled unhappily. They stood no chance against Yamamoto Takeshi, the champion star of shellball.*
Of course, he was also the champion star in the hearts of the girls who were watching him. They squealed in delight as he turned and waved cheerfully.
"Hey there! How are all of you doing?" He shouted, sweat glistening on his forehead, eyes bright and sparkling with refreshing laughter.
The girls screamed at the top of their lungs and jumped, overjoyed. One fell over, unconscious on the ground.
Yamamoto laughed, a little confused, but nevertheless happy. His teammates sighed inwardly at how oblivious he was.
He was a great champion, but also a very ignorant champion.
The cowering herbivore in front of him was weeping and begging for mercy profusely.
Noisy.
There was a flash of angry steel, and the herbivore was now out cold. That shut him up.
Hibari Kyouya flicked the blood off his tonfas, and droplets landed on the previous man's subordinate, who had been staring in horror at the scene the whole time.
Hibari directed his icy glare toward him. The second herbivore began to shake.
"I-I'll tell you! So p-please...d-don't let me end up like him!" He cried.
Hibari snorted humorlessly inside. Fools. Cowards. Arrogant one moment and grovelling the next.
He'd bite them all to death for intruding upon his territory and creating a ruckus.
"T-the man who sent us...his n-name is R-Roku-!" Before he could finish, there was sound from behind the man. A presence...
Whoosh.
Eyes rolling up towards his skull, he dropped dead onto the ground before Hibari could move.
Instantly, his tonfas were up and ready to attack. Hibari was on guard now. Somebody had managed to slip past his guards outside?
But the presence disappeared as suddenly as he had sensed it.
That pissed him off.
In one swift, quick motion, Hibari walked over to the fallen herbivore and examined the back of his head.
There was nothing...
...Nothing except for a tiny, glittering needle that had buried itself deep into the man's neck.
Hibari narrowed his eyes dangerously. Lately, all the men he had tried to arrest and interrogate seem to die before he could extract any information.
A man who's name started with R?
Hibari would bite him to death.
Unbeknownst to the raven-haired boy, a mismatched set of eyes stared at him from the shadows.
Blue and red gleamed murderously in the dark.
"AAAHHHHH!" A fiery shout boomed out from behind the shop, startling the customers.
Sasagawa Kyoko sighed. Why today, of all days? Her stupid brother...
She stood abruptly from her spot behind the counter, further startling a shocked women in front of her.
Ignoring the stares, Kyoko swept up a handful of raw Nightflower** from a nearby jar and marched toward the back door of the apothecary shop.
The juice extract from the mild Nightflower would calm the nerves and help with sleep. But a raw overdose, however...
The shouts became louder as she neared the back. Fuming, Kyoko wrenched open the door, letting it slam freely into the building.
"Brother! What are you doing?"
Sasagawa Ryohei, wearing nothing but trousers, looked up from his extreme practice when he heard his little sister's voice.
"Oh, Kyoko! I am EXTREMELY-"
Kyoko had quickly stuffed the overdose of nightflower into Ryohei's mouth, silencing him.
She watched as his eyes widened, then drooped. He stumbled around the small courtyard, bumped into a wall, and toppled to the ground, fast asleep.
Nodding with satisfaction, she smiled triumphantly. "You are extremely not extreme, my dear brother. Sleep tight, and I will wake you for dinner."
Kyoko searched the courtyard for Ryohei's discarded shirt and draped it onto his torso as he snored.
Then, humming, she strolled back into the apothecary.
A black mop of hair bobbed up and down behind the bushes.
The boy couldn't see above the bushes, and he was frustrated. Tears collected in his eyes, and he sniffed.
"Master Lambo is...Master Lambo is great! Lambo will NOT shed tears!"
A passing villager stared at the boy incredulously. What kind of attire was he wearing? Unless the boy was a jester of some sort, the cow suit he had on looked plain strange.
Lambo Bovino muttered to himself darkly.
"J-just because the great Master Lambo couldn't pass the test...squire? What squire? Lambo doesn't want to be a stupid squire. Find Reborn. Important mission for Great Lambo...stupid squires are not good enough for Master Lambo! Reborn...have to..."
The villager, who heard snatches of the mutterings, shrugged to himself and continued walking. The kid couldn't be talking about the Bovino family, could he? He was just a strange, lost kid.
A single candle flickered in the dark as a breeze brushed by the flame.
The shadowed man walked along the corridors silently, footsteps almost non-existent on the scarlet carpet.
Doors to rooms, halls, and chamber lined the corridor. When the man reached the desired set of great, wrought-iron doors, he stopped. The door had been beautifully fashioned by the most skilled artisan. He had carved the Vongola crest onto the door in the most intricate way possible, the weaving lines giving the Lion*** an almost realistic quality.
The man smirked. He had always thought that the door was quite foolish.
Just by looking at it, an enemy could easily tell which set of doors to open, not to mention the larger-than-life carving of the Crest just shouting "Assassinate me!"
A guard that had been standing by the door bowed respectfully to the man, his armour glowing dully in the candlelight. The man nodded, and the guard knocked a few times on the doors before opening them.
Light streamed out from inside the chamber, and the man stepped inside, footsteps softened by the pelts of animal furs carpeting the stone.
The King's resting chamber was, to put it simply, grand.
Tall windows with heavy, drawn curtains lined the room. Statues and portraits decorated the stone walls. Tall, ornate candelabras holding flickering candles stood in corners, lighting and illuminating the chamber.
The bed itself was large, and a mass of furs, pillows, blankets, and covers covered it. Mostly furs though-it was winter after all. A servant was adjusting the covers.
The man nodded to her, and the servant curtsied once before leaving the chamber.
He stepped closer to the bed.
A silent gray bundle lay upon the bed, breathing labored.
A bleary eye cracked open, and a smile tugged on the corners of his old, wrinkling face. The smile was just a shadow of the grin it used to be.
"Reborn." Relief showed in his worn, whispery voice.
The man smirked. "Timoteo. You've grown old."
The Ninth King chuckled weakly, but genuinely. The next moment, his grin faded, and a grim expression settled in it's place.
"That is exactly why I have called you here. Reborn," the old King turned toward his most trusted advisor and friend, "find me an heir worthy of the throne of Cielo."
I'm sorry if you found this to be too long! But thank-you SO much for taking time to read this, and if you want, please drop a review for me! I would appreciate it very, very much :)
*Shellball: My version of baseball, played with very hard, circular shells. xD
**Nightflower: It is actually a type of rare cactus, but in here I wrote it as an herb that helps you sleep :)
***Lion: I butchered the Vongola Crest.. *bangs head* but somehow, I just couldn't see bullets in this type of setting, so I added in a Lion (Natsu, Giotto being golden-haired..etc.). Sorry if this bothers you! *bangs head again*