Firstly, I just want to let everybody know that this is a cross over AU story between Inazuma Eleven GO and Vampire Academy. Vampire Academy characters, with the exception of two or so appearances from Adrian, will not be in it. They'll be mentioned, but overall, this is a story that takes the Inazuma characters and places them in the Vampire Academy verse. They're the main focus: specifically Fey, Tenma, Zanark and eventually Saryuu. So you don't necessarily have needed to read any of the books in order to read this fic. It will focus on Inazuma characters and non-canon events that I've written to take place after the book series.
I promised myself I would stick to writing only oneshots, but since the new year began, I became so inspired and have been writing this story like crazy. I really, really want to finish it, so I hope I can keep up with it! For anybody who doesn't know very much about Vampire Academy and would like a simple briefing on it's terms and such, I have a guide on a tumblr account that I created solely for this story. This chapter is already posted there as well. Hmm, and it also has background information and stuff about Fey's spirit abilities if you wanted to check it out. Just go to my profile page, scroll to the bottom and both my Lost Mirror and personal tumblrs are listed there.
Sorry if it seems kind of confusing at first. Fey's background and other details are gonna be revealed throughout the first four or so chapters (there's a few flashbacks), so please bear with it, I guess. But if you really want to be filled in prior to a few vague details, like I said, there's some info on my Lost Mirror tumblr.
I have no idea whether to class this under romance or not... I mean, nobody is gonna legit hook up (not until the sequel), probably, but there's gonna be a lot of hintage... Should I change it to drama instead, maybe? Tell me off if you think I should switch it. I don't want to deceive anybody.
Enjoy reading!
PS. To any VA fans who are curious, the present timeline of this story takes place a few years (about three or so) after the book series.
Warning: T for Strong Language, Violence, Blood & Gore, and Torture . Also Trigger Warnings for later. Rating may eventually become M.
Pairing: Eventual SaruFey. I tried to leave other pairings (such as Fey x Tenma & Tsurugi x Tenma) open for the readers to interpret how they'd like.
Disclaimer: I don't own Inazuma Eleven or it's characters, nor do I own Vampire Academy or the artwork used for the story's cover. I own nothing, and everything belongs to it's rightful owner/artist.
Chapter One – The Moonlit Prince
Fey peered out into the icy winter, his brow furrowed as his arms hugged more tightly around the stuffed toy that he almost always held onto. It was already past dinner time, and his papa hadn't yet come home. Fey could feel it as his eyes began to heat up and sting with tears as he continued to search for any sign of activity outside.
Nothing.
"Papa really isn't coming back?" he spoke out into his dark, empty bedroom, his voice shaking as his tears threatened to spill down his face. He swallowed thickly as a sob came from him at the mere thought, peering down at Robin, his stuffed animal, in hopes that it would somehow reassure him by telling him otherwise.
His papa had been acting quite strangely before he'd left the house only hours ago. He'd given Fey more hugs and kisses than usual, seeming to hold onto him more tightly; more desperately, as if he'd been afraid to let go. And then he'd told Fey that he'd called his sister, Lady Badica, before making Fey promise that he'd take care of himself before leaving him with nothing but a mirror that he stated would protect him. But a reflective decoration couldn't cook him dinner when he was hungry, tuck him into bed at night, nor cuddle him when he travelled to papa's room after having a horrific nightmare.
He didn't want some stupid mirror. Fey just wanted his papa to come home.
But Fey had always been mature for his age, and he knew that the gut feeling he'd had before his father left wasn't for nothing. Papa wasn't coming back... was he?
'I've already spoken with my sister, and she said they'd pick you up tonight.' His papa's voice echoed within him, bringing fourth a second sob as it became that much more difficult to restrain his tears. 'Remember to take good care of Moonheart mirror, and that daddy loves you more than anything else in the entire world no matter what, okay, Fey?'
"Then why...?" Fey's fingers curled around Robin's body in a vice grip, hiccuping as he cried out into the silent, empty space. Perhaps he was surrounded by the familiarity of his room, but it didn't feel as such. Not without his papa. Empty. The entire house felt so empty and lonely, regardless of how many plush toys lined his bed. "If you loved me... then why did you have to go!?"
His little legs could no longer support his quaking body, and the boy couldn't keep from sagging onto the ground as he hugged Robin to his chest as if he were holding his heart and keeping it from shattering into several, scattered pieces. He didn't know what to do. He was scared. So scared. How was any child to cope with the ache that now wracked his entire body?
He hid his burning eyes from his surroundings, burying his face into the top of Robin's head as his whimpers escalated into loud sobs. It felt as if the darkness of the room was wrapping him up in it's blanket, and preparing to swallow him up completely. It was all so scary.
And then there was a sudden, strange tapping sound against the glass window, which immediately silenced Fey's cries. Fey's head snapped up, his minty eyes blinded by tears and his eyebrows darting down in confusion. "H-hello?" he called out uncertainly, releasing a single hand from around Robin so that he could wipe at his tear stricken face. "Papa?" The faintest flicker of hope lit up within him, though deep down, he understood that it was too good to be true. He figured that his papa's sister must have arrived in order to pick him up, just as his papa had clarified.
Regardless, he couldn't keep the pang of fear from consuming him. What if it was a stranger? Would it be one of the scary strangers that he'd heard his papa speaking of? The ones with the red-tinged eyes?
Clumsily, Fey managed to pick himself up from where he sat on his knees on the carpeted floor. "Hello?" his voice rang out yet again, a hint of panic sounding in his tone this time. He glanced over at the mirror that sat in the corner of his room for a brief moment, recalling that it would protect him. But... after being left alone like this, could he truly believe his papa's words? How could he rely on somebody who wasn't even here for him?
Fey's pulse quickened with each passing second he failed to receive a response. Whoever they were, they were outside and he could just barely make out a shadow through the nearby window. The night and falling snow made it difficult to make anything out. He squinted his sore eyes, just barely able to make out a figure until the slightest sliver of moonlight highlighted their features, though for only a passing moment.
Fey sucked in his breath, incapable of breathing as his heart stopped beating in his chest. His mind just barely had enough time to process the fact that this person was unrecognizable to him before they thrust an arm through the window. The sound of smashing glass was deafening, and the impact sent shards flying through the air in all directions. The shock made it almost unnoticeable when a piece shot right past Fey's face, slicing him across the cheek before tumbling to the ground below.
His lip trembled as he watched the dark clad figure climb in through his window, unable to move from where he was frozen in both shock and utmost terror. He could just barely feel it as the cold air from outside struck his face. His paralysis only intensified as the stranger came close enough for Fey to look up into his gleaming eyes. The red ring around them was undeniable.
One as young as Fey even understood that death would soon follow. How would a moroi child who hadn't even specialized yet know how to defend himself from an undead strigoi? His father was absent, and his hope that some magical mirror would save him was nonexistent. Their family possessed a guardian, but Fey wondered if maybe he had left him also. Everyone had left. Everybody hated him.
"Fayah..." the strigoi's breath escaped him in an icy haze as he spoke in a low, harsh tone, "Son of Prince Badica."
Fey's heart sank further in his chest at the mentioning of his name. He tried to slowly backup as the strigoi gradually stepped closer, though tumbled to the ground. His legs wouldn't be able to carry him anywhere – not when they shook so violently. Tears prickled at his eyes once again as he gazed up at the man who was going to kill him. Death was eminent.
When the strigoi's gradual movements evaporated and he suddenly lurched forward, Fey's body seemed to react instantly. His hands suffocating his stuffed toy, a scream tore it's way from him and pierced the night as he threw himself onto his side and picked himself up. He ran as quickly as his little feet would take him, his eyes wide with fear and his breathes rapid. His heart felt as if it may explode.
But before he could even manage to escape the dim room, Fey was yanked by the arm and forced against the intruder's frame. He cried out, his wrist burning underneath the rough grasp of the strigoi's fingers. The lightest twitch could very well have snapped his wrist in two.
"Papa!" Fey shrieked, Robin falling from his loosened fingers and hitting the floor. He squirmed and writhed in the undead vampire's grip, unwilling to let it all end here despite his awareness of the entire situation. An unprotected moroi rarely escaped the deadly clutches of a strigoi, let alone a moroi who just happened to be a child. He'd been left for dead.
"Papa!" Fey's tone turned pleading, though he knew that no one, his papa in particular, would come to save him. Perhaps this was what his papa had planned all along. Maybe papa wanted him dead... because he hated him.
"Your 'papa's' not coming," the strigoi's tone danced with amusement, "He left you. He won't be coming back. Not for you. But..." He smirked as another flood of moonlight managed to break through the snow clouds, highlighting the strigoi's unpleasant facial features. "You could find him."
Fey blinked away tears, peering up at him doubtfully. Steel fingers continued to clasp around his wrist, but he was somewhat relieved that the strigoi wasn't eager to kill him. He'd heard from his father that strigoi did not always kill the moroi they encountered, but imprisoned or 'turned' them instead. Whatever that meant. Maybe this undead vampire would not kill him. If that had been his desire, wouldn't he already be dead by now?
"What?" Fey's voice was quiet, a soft sob following his tentative response.
"Prince Badica left you, didn't he?" the strigoi knelt down ever so slightly, running cold fingers along the side of Fey's throat until they drifted to where blood from the cut on his face trickled across his jawline. The boy swallowed thickly at the sensation, shivering. "If that's the case, then don't you hate him for it?"
"Hate him?" Fey repeated the words carefully, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows. He was hurt, and angry that his papa could leave him all alone with nothing but Robin and some mirror when the world was filled with horrible people like the strigoi who currently held him captive... But did he hate him? He was much too conflicted to sort out his feelings right then. The strigoi's uninvited appearance hadn't helped. "But... Papa left me... because he probably hates me."
The strigoi released Fey's wrist, much to his surprise. The green haired boy tenderly rubbed at it's bruised surface, trying his best not to cry at the pain that hung there. "If your daddy hates you, then how about I help you look for him?" Fey's eyes sparkled at the offer, though scepticism was quick to return once the strigoi continued, "And once you find him, you can kill him."
"Wha-"
He was sharply cut off as the strigoi's fingers left the trail of blood against his porcelain skin and instead angrily took hold of his chin and tilted his head up. Fey whimpered, questioning whether the strigoi really would kill him this time. The wild look in those red tinged eyes frightened him back into a quaking state. "He left you! You should hate him! Wouldn't you just love to execute your revenge with your own two hands!?" the undead vampire urged, "I can help you. If you turn, your senses will be perfect. You could use them to find your dear, sweet 'papa.' To execute your revenge."
There was that word again.
Based on the madness that gleamed in those eyes, Fey wondered if maybe he should be afraid of this 'turning' after all. If he 'turned,' then would he be forced to kill papa? Whether he hated him or not... that wasn't what Fey wanted. Finding him, however, was a very tempting offer.
"...If I... 'turn,' will I be able to see papa again?" Even Fey understood that his choices resided between either death or becoming what he assumed would be a strigoi himself. That was most probable. In death, he would never be able to see papa again. But if he turned... maybe, just maybe, he could track papa down and receive answers to all of the questions he harboured in his heart.
"Indeed," he basically purred, a thumb caressing the child's jawline, "I can turn you. Though it's a shame you're not older."
"B-but..." even through the fear, Fey stated quite matter-of-factly, "I won't kill papa."
The strigoi frowned, hesitating for a moment. He seemed to be considering the words. But apparently that couldn't be the case. Not when the strigoi lashed out, squeezing tight fingers around the boy's neck. He lifted him from the ground with ease. Panic settled within the pit of Fey's stomach yet again at the unexpected assault, and alarmed screams pierced the night until they were muffled and choked into feeble sounds by the strigoi's sheer strength. "You don't have much of a choice," he hissed, revealing a sharp set of fangs. Fey's eyes widened at the sight, a strangled scream coming from him as those fangs ripped into the flesh of his throat once released from the strigoi's choke hold. He hit the floor hard, though fought against the jaw that had locked around his neck moments after. He attempted to crawl away, but it seemed resisting cost him ever the more pain.
"I...I'm so scared," he managed to whimper, choking on tears and the discomfort that the bite gave him. Though it lasted only seconds as the pain suddenly vanished, a blissful feeling that Fey had never experienced before instead replacing it. His mind clouded over, overwhelmed by the sheer amounts of pleasure that his body was experiencing right then.
Endorphins. Both moroi and strigoi saliva was coated in drug-like endorphins that left the one being fed from in a sort of high. Strigoi bites being even more potent. Moroi kids from the other royal families had spoken about bites – about how good they apparently felt. But Fey had never imagined that it would feel like this. Never had he experienced something so incredible.
A soft moan came from him, and if it weren't for the lasting effect, he would have been extremely disappointed as the strigoi withdrew from him.
Fey barely even noticed it when the undead vampire dragged Fey's head into his lap, driving the fangs that were still coated in Fey's blood into his very own wrist. He drew some of his own crimson life force, pressing the injury against Fey's lips. The boy was far too muddled to make arguments, by this point.
His tears now nothing but a stain on his face, Fey accepted the strigoi's blood. His nose scrunched up at the odd taste, but who cared when feeling such an incredible buzz? Perhaps if he did as he was directed, the strigoi would bite him all over again.
'No!'
A sudden voice? A sudden familiar voice.
Fey just barely managed to process it, his foggy orbs fluttering open reluctantly. The strigoi continued to feed him, and he could hardly make sense of even that, let alone whether or not a third person accompanied them. He refused to fight the urge to close his eyes again, content and wanting nothing more than to sleep by this point. Yes... sleep while continuing to feel the bliss that surrounded him, though it was becoming faintly dimmer.
'Wake up! Just wake up!' the voice basically begged, a crack sounding in it's voice. It sounded so scared... 'Moonlight! I need moonlight!'
Not even a moment later, Fey lurched out of bed, blinking tear-stricken eyes as they attempted to penetrate the darkness in this bedroom that was significantly different from the one only moments ago. He gasped, as if choking on the very air – rendered breathless as his panicked heart tried it's utmost to return to a steadier pace. More tears leaked from his eyes and ran down his face, but he paid little to no attention to them, instead gasping a second time once he felt a hand against his tense shoulder.
He automatically went to swat it away, but quickly stopped himself when he realized that it was impossible for it to be the strigoi from his dream. Fuzzily, he made out the face of a fellow moroi – a water user who occupied the dorm room next to his.
"Fey, calm down! It was only a dream!" the other moroi hushed him, their hold against his trembling shoulder quite firm.
The sixteen year old boy let his face fall into his hands as he bit the inside of his mouth, frustration seeping into him. "Kirino..." his muffled voice escaped him, an unsteadiness remaining within it, "It was probably just another demented dream caused by spirit." He hated it when others witnessed him this way. "I'm fine."
Kirino tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, unconvinced that Fey was 'fine,' as he put it. "You were crying out in your sleep..."
Fey frowned, unknowing of how to respond. Kirino was always the first person to rush to his side but that was only because Kirino happened to be his neighbour. His cries often woke the other, but Fey wouldn't say that the two were close friends or anything like that. It was hard enough to share moments like these with Tenma, but with somebody who he couldn't completely trust even? The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Is the moon out yet?" Fey ignored Kirino's prior statement, eager to cure his mind of it's crazed state. His thoughts raced and his mental state felt anything but stable. He was desperate to ease himself of it.
A furrow appeared in Kirino's brow and he slowly shook his head, "No... Not yet. Morning isn't for a few more hours."
Moroi tended to live on a different schedule from humans – their 'nighttime' being a human's daytime. It was sometimes a topic of dismay for many dhampirs, but for a moroi, they functioned far better without any intense sunlight. They grew exhausted at a much swifter pace, otherwise.
Fey's troubled eyes wandered to the nearby window. His curtains were thick in order to keep any sunlight from filtering inside his room as he slept, but he could sense that Kirino's words were true. If the moon was visible, than he would have felt it by now.
He sighed, unable to hide his disappointment. He hated restless nights like these. He would simply try and sleep some more in order to escape the deranged and erratic jumbling of his thoughts, but deemed it unlikely. He feared sleep, as he couldn't keep from feeling that another spirit induced dream would follow. A dream that stemmed from the instability of his mind. He would much rather deal with his current state, then risk having a dream that revolved around the conflicted feelings he carried for his father in which spirit only intensified.
Fey shakily climbed out of bed, dangling his legs over it's edge. He wrapped his arms around himself, appearing cold when really he hoped to keep himself together somehow. His breathing and pulse had steadied, but a cold pit remained within his stomach.
"Thank you for checking on me," Fey forced a weak smile, "You're probably tired, so you can head back to bed, if you'd like. I'm fine now."
Kirino looked more concerned then he did relieved by the offer, "Are you not going back to bed?"
Fey dodged Kirino's look, peering into his lap instead. He was a terrible liar and understood that Kirino would be able to read him if he met his bright eyes. "I just thought I'd get a glass of water first." Fey shuddered at his own tone of voice, realizing how rigid it sounded.
Kirino seemed to hesitate, though walked over to the doorway, regardless. "Okay," he began sincerely, "But if you need anything – anything at all – you know where to find me. Make sure you try to get some sleep. Classes come early."
Fey simply nodded at that, directing a tired smile at the other before he gave him one last reassuring look in return and then disappeared through the open doorway. Kirino gently closed the door behind him, and Fey couldn't keep from feeling colder at the sudden loneliness that inhabited his room. It somehow took him back to that dimly lit room from his dream – a room he had been trying to forget about since his so-called father's abandonment. Minus the strigoi, of course. Portions of said dream may have been linked to his memories, but he assumed that strigoi had been a work of his dark imagination. He'd never even come into contact with any strigoi before, and he hoped it would remain that way.
He'd been lucky for a moroi who'd been a bit of a Vagabond before ending up at St. Vladimir's Academy, where he now resided and received his education under an alias.
Slowly, Fey hugged his hands around himself slightly tighter, standing from where he sat on his bed. He had a few hours to kill before spirit would wrap him up within it's warm embrace, granting him lunar empowerment: an ability available to him only through the use of spirit. It was then that he could finally free himself of his weakened state and erratic mind.
He wandered over to a desk that sat against the far wall. A closed laptop and a few books from the library were scattered along it's surface, and Fey thought about maybe going through one and conducting some of his usual research. That, or he thought about maybe checking his emails for any new leads. But he wondered if he'd even be able to concentrate, and instead found his minty coloured eyes lingering on the drawer of his desk. He knew very well what was inside, keeping it concealed for good reason. He could've just thrown it away, but simply didn't have the heart for that. It bothered him, nonetheless.
With a hesitant touch, he pulled the drawer open, peering down at a raggedy plush toy that his father had given him so, so many years ago. Fey closed the drawer with a small sigh, pondering to himself whether his dream was true to his feelings or not. Did spirit aggravate feelings that were already present within him? Did some part of him truly desire revenge against his father, and was he willing to go so far as becoming a strigoi for it? The possibility frightened him.
Years back, he'd begun exclaiming hate for his father. But was it true? He wasn't even completely sure how to feel about it, even still. He'd much rather not think about it at all, concluding that spirit was messing his head up and nothing more.
It wasn't as if Robin would give him any answers anyway.
With another soft sigh, Fey made his way over to the window, pulling back the curtain just slightly enough to look out into the brightly lit world outside. He squinted his eyes as the glowing rays of the sun washed over his face. He could feel it's warmth, and perhaps it was pleasant for a dhampir, but he couldn't keep from shying away from it. It was odd for porcelain skin and mint green orbs that were accustomed to incandescence, candlelight, star filled skies and moonlight. He could endure sunlight, unlike the undead vampires, but was uncomfortable with it all the same. He sometimes wondered if having a sort of affinity for the moon through spirit made the sun even less tolerable for him.
The green haired boy released the curtain from his pale fingers, letting it fall back into place before his sights swept across the room one final time, and he then came to the conclusion that nothing he did here would help pass any time. He wandered to the door after dressing himself in a white collared shirt, an orange hoodie with black cuffs and thumb holes, and black sweatpants, placing a hand on the doorknob. St. Vladimir's Academy, like any boarding school, had a curfew set in place, but Fey figured that the guardians wouldn't be so strict what with it being the very early morning by this point anyway.
He couldn't possibly be the only person to have trouble sleeping. That, or perhaps there were early risers. Tenma had once mentioned that some dhampirs were hardworking to the point where they trained even before their classes began, fitting it into the early morning hours. Fey wouldn't have been surprised if a few feeders were already prepared, even.
Gently opening the door, Fey poked his head out, gazing upon the empty halls. There was something eerie about it, but Fey was thankful enough that he couldn't spot any guardians that roamed the halls. They wouldn't necessarily send him back to his room, but Fey wasn't in the mood to explain himself either. He desired to avoid people, if he could.
He slipped out from his room with soft footsteps, closing the door quietly behind him.
He didn't exactly have any plans on where to go from there, but anything had to be better than sitting around in his room while continuously recalling his nightmare. That, and he hated to allow himself time to think at all when he was in need of healing. Spirit gave him strange, dark thoughts. The last thing he needed was to succumb to his spirit further.
Fey hadn't even made it out of the moroi dorms when a pair of footsteps caught his attention. He stopped where he stood, his eyes narrowing. They were far too clumsy to be that of a professional guardian... But if not a guardian, then who? Another moroi? Despite common sense, adrenaline seeped into Fey's bloodstream as paranoia prepared him for the worst. Not that the wards would allow for strigoi to enter school grounds in the first place, nor would a strigoi's steps be audible, but spirit was capable of blinding the obvious.
Fey could feel it as his heart picked up in his chest, throbbing more rapidly with each passing second as he detached himself from where he stood. He walked at a faster pace down the empty halls, desperate to reach it's end. If he could reach the outside – the sun – than he would be okay. He was safe outside, assuming the sun still hung in the sky.
Fey shook his head of the thoughts, reassuring himself that of course the sun was still visible. If it were dark, he would feel the moon's presence.
"Crap!" Fey froze again as a frantic, hushed voice pierced the silence of the dorms, "A fucking moroi's over there!"
"Well, at least he's not a guardian!" a female's voice followed.
Puzzled, the adrenaline within Fey was quick to die, and he turned around to realize that two dhampirs were the source of the sounds that had brought about his fit. Fey couldn't help but feel relieved, taking in the frantic faces of the two who stood several feet down the hall. All the while, he couldn't help but feel frustrated with himself for overreacting. A cold sweat coated him, and he was more desperate than ever to bask in the moonlight that would follow after the setting of the orange sun. When he started acting this way, that was a clear indication that he needed it. Not that he always noticed.
"H-hello?" Fey called out uncertainly, keeping his own tone as hushed as their own as it was obvious they were sneaking around in hopes that they wouldn't be caught. It didn't seem a guardian was present on this floor at the moment, as they would have been caught long before now.
One of the dhampir's was tall, while the other was a dhampir female who looked to be quite tall herself, probably as tall as Fey if not more so. The male wore a black headband around his snow white head of hair, and even from a distance, Fey could read the sharpness of his plum coloured eyes. The girl's pink hair was pulled up into a high ponytail of sorts, bringing out the light blue colour of her sheepish eyes. She didn't seem as rigid as the dhampir male, instead closing the space between her and Fey with a smile that was just as sheepish as the look in her eyes. Uncertainly, the other followed after her, a hand clutching his head. It wasn't until they were closer that Fey realized they were both suffering hangovers.
"You won't tell anybody about this, right?" the girl clapped her hands together in what seemed like a small prayer in hopes that he would agree. "You know Hayato Matatagi, right? Well, he's our friend over here in the moroi dorms and I guess we lost track of time. Before we knew it, it was the morning." A nervous laugh escaped her parted lips.
Ibuki groaned next to her, clearly enduring a headache that was much worse than that of the pinked haired girl. "Figured we'd best sneak off before everybody wakes up," he continued for her, wincing a bit at the pain that struck his head.
Fey gave them a small smile, unable to keep from wondering whether spirit would be capable of healing a hangover or not... He could just barely shake off the curiosity. The only reason being that the timing was far from impeccable. He didn't want to increase the risk of getting them caught by a guardian. That, and it wasn't as if he would be capable of testing that theory out until the moon rose anyway. He couldn't wield any of his healing abilities until lunar empowerment came into effect. "Don't worry about it. I'm trying to make my escape too, so how about we go together?"
Their eyes lit up with surprise, as a lot of moroi – the population mostly being royal – tended to be somewhat pompous. It could be difficult to find moroi who were amiable with anybody outside of their inner circle. Fey was originally from the Badica family himself, meaning he of course was royal. But he had long ago discarded both his name and his royal status. He went by Fey Rune now, and preferred if it would remain as such. Only relatives who attended the school or the odd family friend of the Badica's would recognize him, and even then, they hadn't spilled his secret.
Not only was he trying to stay under the Badica's radar, but he preferred to keep to himself in general, also. If he were known to be a royal – Prince Badica's son no less - others would swarm him and try to make him apart of their inner circle. Hanging around with royals was the most notable way to become popular at the academy.
Though royal blood or not, Fey was a sincere person by nature. Whether he'd remained with his royal relatives or not could not sway his kindhearted personality.
So basically, not all royals were snobs. Just the majority, or so high school seemed insistent on proving.
"Thanks so much!" the girl's gratitude brightened her facial features, "I'm Sakura, and this is Ibuki! You are?" She gestured to the white haired boy and then looked back to Fey as they walked together. Fey guided them, as he figured he was far more familiar with the moroi dorms, despite their similar set up. He could get them out faster while also avoiding any guardians, hopefully.
Ibuki raised an eyebrow, pressing his lips together as if he was in deep thought. Though that didn't seem to be much of a good idea... not with how much his head seemed to hurt even without putting much thought into anything.
"I'm Fey. Fey Rune."
Ibuki snapped his fingers together and exclaimed, "Wait! You're that spirit user, right?"
Since entering high school, those around him had become a lot more curious about the rituals that revolved around bathing in moonlight. That, and by his absence in each and every elemental class. Oh, right – and no one could forget that one time when Fey had completely lost it at another student under the influence of spirit. Until then, he'd never brought any attention upon himself, which had made the outburst all the more shocking. It never took long for gossip to spread when oddities were presented among them.
"I suppose," Fey gave him a wry smile, wondering whether the things they'd heard about him were either good or bad. It didn't really matter regardless. Fey may have believed in showing kindness towards others, stranger or not. But he was rarely willing to invite others into his heart. How could he when everybody he wound up loving always left?
Any prior unease vanished as the three made their way out into the courtyard, the crisp evening air gently caressing their strands of hair. Ibuki seemed pleased if only for a moment, despite his hangover, at the warmth of the sun on his face. His purple orbs, however, only ached more at the brightness. He squeezed them shut, groaning again.
His tone sounded stiffer then before because of it. "I thought so. I recognized you. You're the moroi who put Zanark in his place. It was pretty funny."
Fey didn't know how to feel about that. The way spirit made him act at times was far from being 'funny', but even to this day, Fey hardly regretted it. It wasn't as if things had gotten out of hand. Besides, that brusque dhampir had sort of deserved it.
Sakura must have witnessed it as well considering she joined in, her index finger raised at the green haired moroi as she added, "Well that guy is such a jerk! It's insulting that he's a novice like us. I mean, nobody's gonna take him on as their guardian once he graduates. Not with an attitude like that!"
Fey chuckled sheepishly at that, unable to bring himself to say otherwise. Not that Fey agreed with talking behind people's backs. It was just difficult to find any reasons to defend him, even for Fey. Hell, even Tenma, who always appeared to see the good in everybody, would most likely stumble on that one. So he concluded that he'd remain nonchalant, if anything.
"I mean, he is really strong," Ibuki had come up with a reason to defend him, apparently. Or at least acknowledge him, somewhat. It was probably an easier task for a dhampir who often trained with him. The only time Fey ever saw him was when the moroi and dhampirs had shared classes after lunch. "He's the top in our class -"
"Unfortunately," Sakura seemed to glower, though Ibuki continued anyway.
"So I guess there's gonna be someone out there who wants him. I honestly don't care. Long as I understand how strong I am, and that I have a bright future ahead of me, that's all that matters. He'll hire me no matter what!" Ibuki fist pumped the air in front of him, wincing afterwards as his hand immediately went back to cup the side of his head.
Spirit made it fairly easier to read the emotions of other people, but spirit or no spirit, Ibuki seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve. Fey could tell that Ibuki was desperate to please somebody. A moroi, maybe. It seemed by his tone of voice that he had a moroi in mind that he wished to protect – one that he pushed himself for.
It must have been nice for that moroi to have somebody so dedicated to them...
"Him?" Fey mused, "As in the moroi you want to protect?"
Sakura giggled, "God, yeah. Ibuki's obsessed."
Fey didn't wish to pry, but he couldn't help but wonder how that must have felt. It must have been a pretty nice feeling to have. He didn't question specifics, though wondered if maybe Ibuki was loyal to the friend they'd gone to see (and had apparently partied all night long with?), Hayato Matatagi. If Fey recalled properly, Hayato was a fire user who tended to keep to himself, much like Fey did. Apparently he came from a non-royal family and worked rather hard for both himself and his siblings who attended the elementary campus. Meaning, he most likely worked part-time jobs and such.
Fey hoped for the best between them, if that was the case, though couldn't deny the fact that non-royals had a lot more difficulty receiving guardians at all, let alone a specific one. He still questioned if maybe he himself should reclaim his royal name once it came down to sending in his request for a guardian. But if he couldn't have Tenma as his guardian, then he wasn't bothered to receive one period. So it probably wouldn't need to come down to him reclaiming his name anyway. Tenma had his sights set on a different royal family.
Ibuki knitted his eyebrows together defensively, snapping through his embarrassment, "S-shut up! I'm not obsessed..." he trailed off, clearly trying to come up with a better term. It didn't seem he would be successful – not with a sluggish, aching mind. "I-"
"You're devoted," Fey finished for him thoughtfully. Ibuki blinked over at him, appearing surprised that he hadn't joined Sakura in teasing him. "I think that's a respectable trait to have." He understood that guardians were meant to be 'devoted' to begin with, but it would be nice to have a guardian who was loyal to you on an emotional level, also. At least, that's what Fey thought.
Ibuki quickly reclaimed his cool, nodding knowingly as a smirk crossed his lips, "Exactly. Zanark's skill may surpass my own for the time being, but no one can even hold a candle to my sheer dedication."
"Ooh?" Sakura cooed, leaning her face in towards him, "We'll see who surpasses Zanark first."
Fey's timid smile remained at their conversation. He couldn't keep from wondering if maybe competitiveness was a nature prone to dhampir novices. The professional guardians all seemed so cool-headed and aloof. It was amusing. Someday, the two of them would be out protecting moroi on a professional field, deadly and fierce and dependable.
"Hmmm," Fey mumbled to himself, pressing a finger to his lips, "Then again... Tenma's not really like that." At least, he didn't think so. Who knew how quarrelsome dhampirs became in their novice-only classes. Those revolved around a lot of physical activity, or so Fey had gathered.
"Sorry?" Sakura's blue eyes were suddenly on him.
He shook his head a bit, glancing down at the ground below, "A-ah, it's nothing. I was just thinking about one of my friends. He's a dhampir too." Fey paused, linking his fingers together behind his back as the three of them came to a stop at the dhampir dorms. "Are the both of you seniors? If so, you'd probably know him."
If the two of them knew Zanark, then it was likely. Then again, Fey wouldn't have doubted it if even the juniors and freshman had heard stories about his attitude problems. Heck, maybe even the elementary campus.
"Got that right!" Sakura extended her arms out in front of her in a sort of stretch, an uncertain chuckle sounding from her lips as her hands dropped back down to her sides, "We're totally nervous for the upcoming field exam though."
"Says you," Ibuki crossed his arms over his chest.
Sakura poked him, "Aww, come on. You're totally nervous."
He flinched at her touch, seeming to frown further. It was evident to Fey that she told the truth. Ibuki was just being stubborn about it. "Yeah, whatever," he brushed her comment aside, plum coloured eyes steadily watching Fey, "But your friend. Would it happen to be..." his memory struggled with the name, "Something Matsukaze... Ugh, I don't remember. But I kinda remember seeing him with you when you flipped the hell out of Zanark."
"Yeah, Tenma. Tenma Matsukaze."
Sakura nodded, "Yeah, we know him. We share a few classes together, though he tends to spend more time with a different group of people then us, so we don't talk all too much. We're on friendly terms though. He's a really nice guy, huh?"
Fey's face automatically lit up with a smile at the words that his friend so very deserved. Tenma was always compassionate and welcoming with just about everybody, and Fey wouldn't ever trust anybody as much as he did Tenma. Tenma was the one person who he knew wouldn't ever hurt him or turn his back on him. Not like the way everybody else seemed to. Tenma was different.
"There's nothing either of us could say that would express what an amazing person Tenma is," Fey's words were so thoughtful, and stated with such sweet warmth, that both Sakura and Ibuki nearly found themselves blushing in his wake. Or perhaps spirit drew them in. Hosts of spirit, whether it was in direct use or not, seemed to have their way of charming people. Not that such had kept anybody around permanently, with Tenma as the only exception. "He saved me." Fey added in a tone so soft that it went unheard.
"He's small for a guardian, but he works hard and he seems to have a good head on his shoulders," Ibuki shrugged, clearly bothered by the prolonged exposure to the brightness of the outside. But his words were genuine to how he truly felt. He held a fair amount of respect for the brunette, and Fey was pleased to hear that other novices regarded him in such a way.
Wishing he could've tested out his healing abilities on hangovers after all at seeing it's effect on Ibuki, Fey gave Ibuki a sympathetic glance before mentioning, "I've held you both up long enough. You probably wanted to sleep another hour or so." He couldn't blame them, considering they obviously felt like crap. "I'll let you go! Sorry to keep you so long."
Sakura shook her pink coloured head. The short ponytail on her head bobbed to the motion. "Don't apologize! Thanks so much for helping us back there! I can only imagine how the guardians would've punished us, otherwise. Maybe they would've made our field exam a living hell, even. We owe you. If anything, we should apologize for dragging you into our mess."
"Not at all. I figured we may as well go together."
"Yeah. I won't ask why, but it's strange for a moroi to be up this early if they really don't need to be," Sakura tucked a stray piece of pink hair behind her ear, clearly curious as to why Fey had been leaving the dorm in the first place, "Anyhow, we'll probably be seeing each other around." She directed a small wave at him before she and Ibuki approached the entrance to their own building: the one where the dhampir dorm rooms resided. No words from Ibuki followed, but he gave a sluggish wave before stumbling inside. It seemed he was about to pass out at any given moment.
Maybe he wasn't willing to hand his heart out or anything so extreme, but Fey couldn't deny the genuine smile that occupied his face as he watched them leave. It wasn't often that he made the effort to mingle, but he was somewhat happy by the positive interaction. It wasn't as if others bothered to approach him either. Not unless they came to him with questions about spirit. Some people even came to him for nothing but a healing request, and even though he fully understood that he was being used and that the other would have nothing to do with him afterwards, Fey couldn't say no to spirit use. He felt compelled to use it, especially when the one before him was injured in some way. He couldn't stand by and do nothing when he had the capabilities. But this had been different. They'd known he was a spirit user, but hadn't asked anything of him or attempted to manipulate him by sucking up to him. They'd treated him rather normally. On friendly terms, even.
It'd been nice, even if he knew deep down Tenma was the only person he'd ever truly need.
"Fey?" the moroi jumped at the sudden call of his name, breaking away from his thoughts as he realized he still stood outside of the building used for the dhampir dorms. He didn't even realize until just that he had begun to sweat underneath the sun's harsh touch. It hung above him, though was sinking further towards the horizon. By 4:30 PM or so, it would most likely be aglow in preparation for sunset. That wasn't for another forty or so minutes. Currently, they were in the early wintertime and the daytime was growing shorter and shorter by the day. It was in Fey's interest that daytime grew shorter while the nighttime prospered. The time of the moon was when he felt most alive, and winter would have been his favourite season because of it if not for personal reasons that caused him to dislike it.
The green haired boy whipped his head in the direction of the voice, his heart stopping in his chest before easing back into a steady pulse at the sight of the guardian who approached him.
Fey couldn't remember his name right then, but he recalled that he'd given him a ring infused with spirit at some point or another. Unlike nosy students, the guardians didn't demand him of it, but he volunteered. If he could help them protect their school in any way possible, then he was glad to aid the guardians in even the smallest of ways.
He watched as the dark haired guardian pressed his lips together in what might have been concern or disapproval. He appeared young for a guardian – possibly the youngest professional on campus – and he often wore leather gloves over his hands, which he'd never seen any of the other guardians adorn themselves with. So they weren't uniform protocol. It had sorta become this guardian's trademark.
"What are you doing up already?" his teal eyes watched him steadily, and there was a composed air about him that many guardians possessed. Fey couldn't keep from noticing how thick and attractive his lashes were. It was something Fey had heard the female (and some male) populace rave about. "Do you not feel well? Is it due to spirit?"
Fey wished he could recall the man's name and he searched his mind for it, but it was a difficult task when he dealt with so many of the other guardians also. Plus this one was new, only arriving over the summer. Fey's lack of concentration due to his high desire to use spirit wasn't helping either. The sun beating down on his face all this time only reminded him that much more desperately. He wanted that light replaced by the moon so, so badly.
"No, I'm fine," Fey assured him with a soft look, "I just couldn't sleep. So I thought I'd check to see if any feeders are prepared."
"Not yet," the guardian responded, his facial features barely changing, "But I did see Shirou Fubuki in his office. I'm sure he'd be willing to speak with you, if you needed it."
Due to the suggestion, it was obvious that the guardian was far from convinced that Fey was fine. It irked the greenette a bit more than it should have, as he'd told him he simply couldn't sleep. But no. Spirit was always the suspect. He didn't need to be treated like some mental case... Or perhaps the slight flare of anger within him was spirit talking, and it was only proving the guardian's point that maybe he should speak with somebody: Fubuki in particular.
Fey clenched his jaw as his mind began to whirl that much more violently. It took everything within him to keep from snapping darkly. "I already have an appointment booked with him after classes are over."
The guardian sensed the change in him almost instantly, but continued to push the subject regardless. Spirit was taking it's toll on him, and he understood that it was Fubuki who monitored that. "I think it'd be nice just to talk to him. It'll pass the time. Then before you know it, it'll be nighttime." He paused, his facial features growing surprisingly compassionate for a guardian, "You always feel really amazing in the moonlight, right? I can tell."
Fey slowly nodded, watching as the guardian fished a hand through his coat pocket. He pulled out a silver ring, laying it down against his gloved palm. "Remember when you made this for me?" he asked, glancing down at the ring with heavily lashed eyes, "What did you call it? A moon ring?" He paused again. "You seemed really happy when you charmed it. And to be honest, it's been a great help to me." He smiled – a rare sight coming from a guardian. It was such a pleasant sight that Fey could hardly even remember his anger. "I'd love it if you could replenish it's magic for me later too."
"S-sure, I -"
"Toramaru!" another voice joined them, this one being more distant and firm. "What are you doing!? What's that Moroi doing up?"
Fey didn't know how to react first – shocked at the sudden appearance of a second guardian, or relieved that said guardian had given him the name he'd been poking and prodding his brain for. Toramaru: that was the new guardian's name!
The other guardian (who Fey actually remembered the name for), Ichirouta Kazemaru, advanced on them. He had a serious expression written on his face, almost as if he was prepared for any danger right then and there. Well, he probably was. Fey had heard that Kazemaru had been working at the school even when it had been attacked by a large group of strigoi a few years back. Apparently, Kazemaru had been greatly affected by that night. Many had. Though Fey wondered if maybe he had PTSD. He also wondered if maybe he was capable of healing it, if that was the case...
Fey could remember hearing about the night it had happened, and even though he had been little, he could remember how frightful everybody had been for their families. The high school campus had suffered casualties, but luckily a dhampir girl and a moroi fire user had done a lot to protect the elementary campus from getting even the slightest bit breached.
Toramaru slipped the ring back into his pocket, his guardian composure returning to him.
"Is everything alright?" Kazemaru's alert set of orbs flashed between Toramaru and Fey multiple times once he came to a standstill before them, his hand hovering over where Fey knew he carried his silver stake.
Toramaru nodded, "Yeah, this is Fey. I was just about to escort him to Fubuki's office."
Realization flashed in Kazemaru's chestnut coloured eyes. His hand withdrew from his stake and fell to his side. The serious air about him died down a little bit as well. "Oh, right, I'm sorry Fey," he crossed his arms over his chest, "I automatically reacted due to suspicion when I saw a moroi up and awake at this hour, but I didn't stop to think that it could be you. Having trouble sleeping?"
"More or less," Fey smiled sheepishly, hoping that this conversation wouldn't go in a dangerous direction. He didn't need the guardians to baby him just because he was a spirit user. But he'd calmed down significantly at Toramaru's earlier words. So he didn't think that he'd be on the brink of snapping again. Or at least, he hoped not.
"Hmm, well I suppose I should leave you to carry out your business," Kazemaru's attention was redirected towards Toramaru the next time he spoke, and the gentler facial features he'd had while speaking with Fey were replaced by his more stern disposition. "Once you've taken Fey inside, make sure to return to your post, Toramaru."
Toramaru nodded at the more experienced guardian, pressing a hand against Fey's shoulder as if to guide him forward. He peered over his shoulder, watching as Kazemaru turned away, heading off across the courtyard. Fey's minty tinged eyes widened in a mix of both heartache and captivation as Kazemaru's ponytail swept through the air along with his movements, revealing the Zvezda mark that he bore on the surface of his neck. Out of curiosity, once he turned away, he gingerly glanced up at Toramaru's paler coloured throat, realizing that nothing but the promise mark coated it's surface. It seemed so naked when compared to the other guardians on campus. Even more so compared to the guardians who fought outside of the school.
The wards kept everybody save, assuring that no strigoi could enter school grounds. The academy and the royal court were two of the safest places to be, so it wasn't as if the guardians assigned to the school were given many opportunities to receive molnija marks anyway.
Fey could only assume that Kazemaru had received his own marks during that attack a few years back...
If Toramaru ever noticed the greenete's staring, which he most likely had, he remained mute about it. He escorted Fey through the empty halls, only the sound of their footsteps breaking the silence that surrounded them. Toramaru would nod at any passing guardians, and they would do the same, but that was about the only contact they encountered on their short walk to the office where Fubuki currently resided.
Fey was all too familiar with it. The school had arranged appointments with the school's therapist for him since he'd first arrived. He wasn't sure whether it had at first been stemmed by his antisocial behaviour or because he was involved with spirit. By now, he figured that he was encouraged to attend these sorts of sessions for both reasons. Presently, spirit was much more of an issue, though. Fey had been eased of his vast amounts of loneliness since meeting Tenma at the high school campus. It remained, though wasn't quite as severe.
Fubuki peered up from his desk, his eyes having been glued to a few papers that laid scattered on his desk. His eyes meeting Fey's, he pushed them to the side and smiled warmly, "Fey. Toramaru. What a pleasant surprise."
"Good morning, Fubuki," Toramaru greeted him with the nod his head – similar to how he'd greeted other guardians they'd passed along the way. Fey tensed up when Toramaru placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed at it lightly. "I think that Fey's having trouble sleeping, so I was hoping that maybe you'd be able to talk with him? Just until the other students are due. Then Fey can go off and do what it is he does once the moon's out." Toramaru paused. "I mean, I'm pretty sure I never heard any reports of snow clouds or anything like that. And it isn't going to be a new moon."
Fey's heart clenched at Toramaru's words, and he couldn't keep from gasping to himself quietly. He clasped onto the edge of his hoodie, trying to think back to what the TV had said about any weather conditions. If the clouds happened to be too thick... then the moon wouldn't be able to penetrate them. And that meant that he wouldn't be able to heal either.
He already knew that there wouldn't be a new moon... He couldn't ever overlook something like that. He dreaded those nights the most.
"Was it supposed to snow at some point today?" Fey managed to ask, tightening his fingers around the fabric of his hoodie in hopes that he didn't appear too desperate for the answer. Toramaru's hold on him only made him feel all the more self-conscious. Could he feel his nervous heartbeat vibrating through his leather clad fingers?
Fubuki stood from his chair, walking over to a shelf that stood in the corner of the room. Fubuki took a ceramic cup with gorgeous golden lining from it's surface, preparing what must have been tea. "I don't believe I heard anything about snow on the weather channel," Fubuki interjected. He gave Toramaru a sheepish look. "Thanks for bringing him to me, Toramaru. But you really shouldn't say insensitive things. Now you've gone and worried him."
"Ah- I," Toramaru's hand withdrew from Fey's shoulder as his head whipped down to take in the moroi's posture. The fact that he'd never even noticed, and now seemed somewhat frantic, was another trait of his that was odd for a guardian to display. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean -"
"But never mind that," Fubuki gave Toramaru a knowing look before redirecting his attention back to the tea that he was preparing, "Feel free to take a seat, Fey. I'll make you some Lemon Balm tea."
Thanking his therapist modestly, Fey gingerly obeyed him. He released his hand from where it had tightly clamped onto the end of his hoodie, wiping his stiff fingers along the surface of his black track pants in a sort of attempt to stretch them out before he sat down. He rested his hands in his lap, swallowing thickly and hoping that the moon would make an early appearance. He was beyond restless for it by this point, and wondered if maybe the tea Fubuki was preparing for him would help calm him somehow. If Fey remembered his tea facts correctly, than he vaguely recalled that Lemon Balm tea was good for soothing headaches or something like that. Any other effects, or if that was even the proper one, Fey couldn't remember.
"Would you like some as well, Toramaru?" Fubuki invited.
But the young guardian, having recollected himself, shook his head from side to side, "No thanks, Fubuki. I should most likely head back." He looked over to Fey, "Take care, Fey. Expect to be seeing me around. I still need you to restore the magic in my ring." His tone was more so encouraging than it was demanding. He said such in more of a regard to Fey's emotions, than desperately needing the ring's magic. He understood that it made Fey happy to help them out.
"You can pop by once I'm done classes, if you'd like?" Fey offered.
"Sounds good." And with that, the young guardian took his leave. He wasn't willing to witness Kazemaru's foul mood at his own tardiness. He was already more than aware that half of the guardians on campus believed that he didn't take his job quite as seriously as they did. But his skills, or so Fey had heard from the novices, were almost like that of a prodigy, regardless of what many thought. It was almost a shame that he was stuck guarding the school, rather than being deployed where he would have the opportunity to protect moroi where it was most needed.
Moments later, Fubuki sat across from the moroi boy, placing his cup of tea on the surface of the desk in front of him. Fey peered up at Fubuki, giving off a slight smile as he reached out and wrapped his fingers delicately around the warm cup's surface. It was a pretty cup, and the warmth radiating from it felt nice against his cool fingers.
"It's still rather hot, so just give it a few minutes," Fubuki suggested. His hazel eyes watched him steadily, and Fey noticed as they developed a serious tint within their depths. "I know that our appointment isn't until later on this afternoon, but if you'd like, we can talk now? Did you have that same dream again? Is that why you can't sleep?"
Fey confided in Fubuki, what with him being his therapist and all. But he didn't trust him to the same extent that he did Tenma. He understood that as a therapist, any information that he shared with Fubuki was to be kept between just the two of them. But all the while, no matter how kind a person he understood Fubuki was, Fey couldn't help but feel that their conversations were artificial. It was Fubuki's job to help Fey feel better. Nothing more.
He'd shared vague explanations of his past with Fubuki, but had only ever gone into detail about it with Tenma. He'd only ever told Tenma about who he truly was – that being the Lost Prince's missing son.
That was why he hesitated with a reply, lowering his head so that he could peer into his lap. "Kind of..." he spoke quietly, "This time... it was different. More like a nightmare..."
"A different dream?" Fubuki's voice remained soothing, but his eyes narrowed and he pressed his lips together in a sort of frown, "What was this nightmare about, Fey?"
The greenette was incredibly reluctant to share any details about it. How could he tell another moroi that he'd had a dream where he'd been tempted to turn into a strigoi? For revenge, no less? It was too humiliating. Fey didn't know if it was a therapist thing, but he could remember Fubuki once saying that dreams often communicated buried fears and desires. He would grow concerned for him, when really, Fey knew deep down that he wouldn't ever consider such a thing. Why worry anyone when it wasn't necessary?
It was all induced by spirit anyway. Spirit was messing his thoughts up, and in turn his dreams. It had to be that.
Though being a dreadful liar, Fey could only shrug in response.
"Fey," Fubuki gently pressed, "You can tell me anything. I'm not here to judge you."
Fey bit his lip, still refusing to raise his head. He fiddled with his fingers in his lap, furrowing his eyebrows worriedly as he continued to nibble at his bottom lip. Taking a shaky breath, he just barely managed to murmur, "I... I was being attacked by a strigoi."
It technically wasn't a lie.
"A strigoi?" Fubuki frowned further, "You wandered a lot on your own before being brought here, but you never once encountered a strigoi. At least, that's what you told me. If that's the case, are you afraid of them? Are you afraid of encountering a strigoi? Fear of the unknown is more than natural."
Fey shook his head, "I don't know..."
That wasn't exactly a lie either. Not ever seeing one had made him more than curious. It had also left a lot to his imagination, and he wondered whether or not that was for better or worse.
The younger forced a laugh, trying to appear alright. He'd rather force a smile and fool who he could. Getting emotional with others wasn't his forte. He preferred to keep his emotions to himself. He'd had no other choice growing up, so by this point, it was an incredibly difficult habit to break."Either way, I wouldn't look into it all too much. I think the only reason I had it was because spirit's messing me up."
As Fubuki replied to him, Fey lifted his cup from the table, gazing into the orange tinged tea within before taking a cautious sip. "Your spirit abilities are very incredible, Fey. They may take a toll on your mind, but that doesn't make you 'messed up.'" He paused, tilting his head to the side. "Why? Is that what you think? Do you dislike the fact that you specialized in spirit?"
"Hmm," Fey finally glanced up at the other, shrugging his shoulders honestly as the fake smile that'd been plastered on his face gradually faded at the various questions thrown at him. "I wouldn't ever trade spirit for anything. Sure, there are a few cons, but I'd feel so lost without it, I think." He tried to communicate his complicated feelings, though it was difficult. He'd once tried taking medication to help him with the side effects, but it had completely cut him off from his magic. It had reduced spirit's side-effects, but in turn, it had made him feel so lost and miserable. He couldn't imagine being cut off from spirit completely or not having it at all. He scrunched his nose up in thought, "But I do think that spirit definitely warps my thinking at ti-"
"I'm in no way accusing you, but are you sure that you're not simply placing the blame on spirit for thoughts that you don't want to admit are your own?" Fubuki's tone was tentative, as he didn't wish to upset the greenette. But he needed to ask. He was there to help Fey understand himself as well as his feelings, after all. But perhaps it would have been wiser to ask him such a thing after a dose of lunar healing: when his emotional state was more stable.
Fubuki feared that maybe he'd stirred a flare of anger within the other, but realized that instead, Fey grew rigid where he sat, his face paling. Was he succumbing to depression instead? That was another reaction that spirit was capable of intensifying. He'd come to realize after monitoring Fey for these past few years that he was most prone to either verbalized irritation or a dark depression when it came to spirit disturbances.
Fey's breath hitched in his chest at the painful reminder. Apart of him was insulted by the general comment, but he couldn't help but wonder if maybe it held some form of truth with his nightmare. Would he really go so far? Was it really revenge he truly wanted? Was he denying the truth by telling himself that spirit must have been it's cause?
The spirit user opened his mouth to protest, but that was when it hit him.
Every emotion within him evaporated as if it hadn't even mattered in the first place, and he perked up in his seat. Fubuki must have noticed the change in him and how his minty eyes widened without warning. His lips, which had been pressed tightly together, relaxed and were even slightly parted – as if he was enchanted by something that nobody else could see.
"Fey?"
The moroi boy didn't even process the fact that his name had been called, instead concentrating on the wondrous sense of warmth that had engulfed him. Spirit. It was spirit use that he could feel, meaning that lunar empowerment was in effect and that Fey's spirit was drawing in lunar energy from the moon.
He pushed his tea cup away from him, standing from where he'd been sitting. Slowly, a smile – a genuine one – crept over his lips before he found himself sharing an unwavering gaze with Fubuki. "I need to go." The moon must have risen early, and it felt as if it was calling out to him. It was a sensation that he couldn't possibly ever ignore.
Fubuki had seen that look wash over him plenty of times, and the crinkles of worry faded from his face as understanding replaced his facial features. "You need to perform a lunar healing? Of course. We can carry on with this conversation later." He smiled, watching as Fey eagerly left his spacious office after giving him a brighter look than previous to his spirit's activation.
The greenette broke into an excited run, a calm washing over him as spirit elevated any darker thoughts and feelings that clouded his mind. They would linger, however, until he healed himself of them completely. Neglecting to do so could be dangerous, otherwise.
He inhaled with a sweet sigh as he felt the outside air hit his face when he emerged outside into the courtyard. It was still light out, but Fey could feel that the temperature had begun to drop as the sun continued to sink through the pale blue sky. He would've hugged his arms around himself in an attempt to warm up at the sudden drop, but he searched the clear skies for the moon that he knew was just barely visible in the sky that was still ruled by the sun – far too captivated to care for something as simple as the colder air around him.
Fey gazed up into the faded figure that was the moon. It was too full to be a last quarter moon just yet, but it had shifted from it's waning gibbous phase – instead resting somewhere in-between. It's light was weak in the sun's rays, and Fey's abilities wouldn't work as well as they would have if he were bathed in it's concentrated, silver light while shrouded by a dark, star filled sky. But this would do for now.
He made his way over to the fountain that stood in the center of the open space, sitting himself down on it's edge. An elegant statue of St. Vladimir, the founder of their school, and his guardian, Anna, decorated the fountain, and water was meant to fall from their cupped hands. But the fountain had been turned off for the winter season and it seemed so empty as Fey glanced down into it. Nothing but a few dead leaves rested at it's stone-cold bottom.
He stared back up into the sky, letting his eyes flutter shut as he rested his palms along the edges of the fountain where he sat. His fingers curled around them, creating a steady grip around it. He tried to concentrate on the moonlight that just barely escaped from being washed out by the sunlight completely, but it was difficult for him to grasp onto his magic when it was so weak. He opened himself up to his spirit as he felt it gradually burn brighter within him, it's warmth embracing him three times more intensely than it ever did while continuously keeping a stable connection open between both itself and the moon.
The healing process was far slower than usual, and because his healing magic was far less potent than it should've been, he would need to heal himself a second time. But this would satisfy him until classes were finished, at least.
He wasn't quite sure whether it was the tea Fubuki had given him before, or whether it was because his mind had finally been eased of the darkness that had been growing within him since his last healing: but as the ecstatic glow that his magic created within him began to wane, Fey's eyes fluttered tiredly. It seemed his lack of sleep was catching up to his serene form, and he couldn't help but stifle a yawn.
He glanced around the courtyard with eyes that were blurred with sleep-deprivation, thinking to himself that nobody was around. It wouldn't hurt anyone if he simply closed his eyes for just a few moments...
Suppressing a second yawn, the boy carefully pulled his legs up along the fountain walls, curling up onto it's surface and placing a hand underneath his head in an attempt to shelter it from the hard, cold stone underneath him.
Finally, he reluctantly closed his eyes, promising that it wouldn't last any longer than a few minutes. After a prolonged and weak healing session, perhaps he'd used more spirit than intended and it'd exhausted him. He doubted that was the case, but his thoughts were far too sluggish for him to argue with himself, or debate it. Instead, he let the realm of sleep swallow him up, only regretting it when he fell into a dream. Not the nightmare from before, but a dream that left him feeling both sickly yet somehow fond of it each and every night he experienced it.
The familiar voice called out to him like it always did, and he swore he could feel his papa's warm hand sweeping through his bangs. At least until he opened his eyes to stare up into the man's face to realize that papa really was there – sitting with him at his bedside in his old bedroom. Robin lay next to him, tucked into Fey's snug bedsheets.
His papa smiled down at him, a sad look swimming in those minty eyes that matched his own, the same words from each and every other night escaping from his parted lips.
'Goodnight, sweet Fayah.'
I'm so sorry if the lack of honorifics is really irritating. In the VA books, St. Vladimir's is located in Montana, so I guess I thought it'd be best for me to leave them out. A lot of characters also call each other by their given names, but some reason I've made Shindou, Kirino and Ibuki exceptions? I don't even know. xD Please bear with me.
Thanks a bunch for reading!