Word from author: This is Prologue, I promise chapters to be longer. Think of it as a preview.
Disclaimer: I do not own.
"I'll find ya mate…"
It was a yearly tradition for Serge and his mother to place flowers on the shores of Opassa Beach in honor of Wazuki's memory. Marge held joy in the idea that Wazuki would so proud of the young man who inherited his father's strong features, sapphire eyes, and matching shaggy azure mop of hair. However, while the dashing youth inherited his arrogant father's handsome appearance, he held the gentle nature of his mother in his personality. For no arrogance or pride would've allowed Serge's eyes to see such a flower…
Violet dusted with blue the petals were, and in the center was core that held the golden pollen. In this gray shaded valley, (known to travelers as Fossil Valley) never did Serge and Leena expect to see such a flower. It had Serge who spotted it, with distant whispers of armor clad brother's and a dark haired noble woman brushing against the cusp of known and unknown memories…
Glenn
"Could we have that flower please?"
Riddel
"The soul who rests here loved this flower in life."
Dario
"Riddel, a name that speaks to my heart, yet I cannot remember you."
A smiling girl with golden locks.
"'magine if ya had nuthin to give to yer dead love," she said, reminding him of his father, "Dunno if I could handle that…"
"Serge?" Leena had asked him, her blue eyes focused on the flowers, "Oh these are beautiful," she said as she kneeled down in that manner he was so found of, "These flowers would be perfect for our fathers…"
He smiled in response to Leena's sentimentality, "Yes, I suppose they'd like these, or I hope they would…" he said sadly, the guilt of being the trigger of those deaths and having no memory of that storm haunted him.
Leena wrapped her hand around Serge's gloved one. Though she could never be the lover Serge felt he was destined for, if this lover did not come Serge wouldn't mind spending his life with her.
"Serge," Leena spoke softly, "I think they'd be proud that they were able to bring about such a good person," she leaned against her friend, "I know that I'm glad you're still here."
Thank you Leena.
Yes, their fathers. As Serge, dressed in what we would refer to as a white full length kimono, a pair of white hakama pants and a light haori. For the citizens of Arni it was their male funeral clothing, while both Marge and Leena were dressed in something akin to a white Uchikake robe with all hair ornaments removed from all three. For the first time in fourteen years as Leena stood upon the shores of Opassa, she felt a great comfort sprout from within. As though she could feel the soul of her father, Miguel truly reassure her that he was at peace. That peace of mind was what Leena needed to move on to the better future Miguel had wished for her.
So the two women watched as Serge set the flowers to drift out to wherever these men's souls lay. The youth that had been saved by these fathers clasped his hands together in prayer, as he did every year.
"What came from the sea has returned to the sea," he spoke without knowledge of the words' ironic meaning, "For Miguel and Wazuki…"
Two men who had suffered for him…
The pain of the wound was still fresh…
Serge's hands forcefully parted as an unconscious groan came from his lips
"Serge!?" Leena's concerned words cried.
The father saw the son bleed, "Serge!?"
"C'mon Wazuki…"
'Bring the boy'
Red…fire…hot…
"Serge is dead….dead, but he's here, my son, dead, but alive…"
"Dad!?"
Father's like a cat, "You're not Serge, Serge is dead…"
"Serge, what's wrong, Serge, honey…" Mother held him close.
His arm burned so much, the panther's poison burned, the mere memory of it. He cried aloud as he clutched his arm.
"SERGE! MATE, HOLD ON!"
And so sound ceased to be in Serge's mind, along with everything else. He slept with a thin hold upon the thread of life the kept him in this world. But, Fate in one guise of a narrowed eyed devil is so cruel and set in its ways. Its cruelty that holds Wazuki's soul fed on Serge's suffering until the very end.
And Princess Schala had watched the very end, watched as her own child Schala "Kid" Zeal broke down from the impact of Serge's death. The common blue color that these characters shared, the same blue glittered as tears trickled down Schala's face. She cried for the death of a youth she was forever indebted to, for a daughter that knew naught but a suffering, and a man who was thrust into an eternal battle with his son.
For these unfortunate three, Fate's game was forever, feeding upon their miseries. For these three, Schala prayed, sending the cogs in an eternal spin.
The circle begins…
Now Kid, search for him and save him from this fate.
While a little Harlequin awoke from her slumber.
1877, England
The crowded streets were the obstacle of one blond beauty. She in crimson dress searched for him once again, and she saw him. As the rain droplets pelted her, soaking her, she felt no fire within her bosom be smothered. The pace of her heart quickened as she ran onward, never slipping against the cobblestone streets. The blue hair…
"I've found ya mate…"
Slash…
Crimson stained on crimson…Kid felt the unknown blade slide deeper into her abdomen. The pain of yet another loss became so much more prominent as she felt the heated breath against her ear. The fur that tickled her ears was on the skin of the mangy feline she detested so.
"Did you really think I would allow you and the Arbiter to come so close?" he whispered mockingly, "Schala, you truly are a foolish Kid…"
Kid merely smirked in response as used her last dying moments to stare into the cold golden orbs, "Another lifetime then I expect," she uttered weakly.
Lynx smiled as once again, the victory was his.
Serge…
The young man's eyes darted back and forth.
"Serge?" the young woman asked, "Is everything alright?"
Peering past the classes of citizens, Serge found himself searching for something. Something he couldn't find. His mind brushed it aside, paying more attention to his fiancée.
"I'm not sure," he replied, "Lets not worry about it Leena."
Present
So mon Serge, qu'est-ce que tu vas faire? What will you do ? Who will you chooze in ze end ?
She looked at the moon, the crescent moon.
Better yet, qu'est-ce que je vais faire? What will I do ? Shall I 'elp my brotherz ou shall I aide toi (help you ).