Chapter I

--- Dying End ---

Alexander moved through the hall at a quickening pace. Taking care to remain out of sight of her godfather, James. There was a large oak table, running across one length of the room, laid out with food, silver platters, china and silver cutlery. There where portraits of numerous family members, including herself. She despised her picture, because it made her feel insecure somehow.

She heard heavy footsteps against the cold tiles of the ball hall floor. "I thought you had left the Manor," Came a soft voice. "Oh, no," She paused, "I was just checking everything was in place for Master Hiwatari... nothing more James." A gentle pair of eyes smiled at her, "Don't worry, I'll make sure everything turns out okay, you'll see." James studied her bandaged hand, "How is your hand now?" He asked. She held it tightly with her free hand, "It's fine." She sighed. The door opened and a few butlers and maids entered.

"My dear Alexander, have you seen the time?" Asked an old maid, her hair was gray and wispy but she had a kind, loving smile and took great pride in caring for Alex. "No, I haven't Aunt May." She clapped her hands quickly, "Come, come child, we must get you ready for Master Hiwatari's Visit. Upstairs! Upstairs!" She bustled. James laughed and in his usual manor, began to eat some of the food off the table, "Leave it for later," Spat aunt May, slapping him across the hands, "I didn't slave all day for you to pick at the food" Alex was now laughing at him as she took her adoptive aunt by the hand and lead her from the room. James breathed a sigh of relief as his Goddaughter left the room, and rather wished the events of the evening would progress at a rapid pace.

Alexander and her aunt made their way into one of her many rooms. The only light in the room came from the fire in which the logs she and her bit-beast had collected earlier that day when she decided she would go exploring in the woods, only to manage to trip and sprain her left wrist quite badly. She had not lived in the Manor for very long, it was just about a year now.

Her father had died when she was about 6. Although it was no great loss to anyone inside the Ivanov family apart from the children, he had been the youngest... and the most despised of the three brothers. Purely because he owned a small little beyblade shop on the corner of 3rd street and married a beautiful young waitress. Then later on went to becoming Stanley. A. Dickenson's personal advisor and help create the 2-time world champion team The Bladebreakers, who had now sadly parted their ways for the 2nd time running in the 2 years they have been a team.

She sat on her bed, as May began to adjust the lighting in the room. It was large room, which she used as her main bedroom. The walls where a silky blue colour as where the bed sheets, the curtains where deep navy and the wooden flooring was a very dark shade of rosewood. Along the walls, pictures hung of her many family favorites, mainly the other 4 Ivanov Children, Pictures taken from her many Beyblade battles, newspaper clippings and other sentimental images. Near the door she kept a chest of draws, which was also rosewood that had some keys, and her mobile phone apparently chucked upon it. Further along the wall was a door to her on-suite bathroom and her closet, full of her clothing. On the north wall there were sweeping wooden doors, with large glass windows, leading out into a marble balcony, which overlooked the vast grounds of the Manor House, hidden away in the forests from the rest of Tokyo. Roses wrapped around the doorway and around the railings. On the east wall there were a large, again rosewood desk, full of papers and numerous black and electric blue beyblade parts. A large black leather chair accompanied the desk with a large fur rug beside it. The south wall was where her 4-poster bed lay, with beautiful head boards carved to a high quality of many ancient summons of what Alex once believed the mysterious yet powerful bit-beasts looked like thousands of years ago, based upon the myths and legends passed down from generations, laced with a netted material swept over the wooden beams. She spent most of her time in here, and on the 4th floor where James had converted the entire floor to build her a training room and a stadium-sized beydish. Money as defiantly no object to the pair, James had been promoted yet again a few months ago, and Alex was steadily making a large sum of money from her Beyblading career.

"No my dear, black one or the red one?" May smiled holding up two dresses. The red one was made of a fine red net material pressed against a deeper shade of red underneath, with a corset style top, laced together with ribbon down the front quarter. The little black dress was one of Alexander's favorites. It was a silk Chinese style dress, which ended just above the knee, with embroidery made of gold stitching around the edges. It had a small 'peep hole' on the chest, showing a small amount of cleavage if the wearer chose so. It also had a thin collar around the neck to bring the dress to an elegant finish. "Which do you think?" Alexander asked, not to interested in the topic, she rather wished she was out having fun with the late night blading for money down in the alleyways of the city then having to appear at Voltaire's welcoming committee, she only knew too well what the out come would be. "Well the black one it is," May smiled, "Come on, get ready"

Alexander appeared from her closet some 5 minutes later, having matched her dress with some black heels, which the straps crossed over numerously across her ankles. May smiled at her, she had grown beautiful like her mother. Her raven hair reached just below shoulder-length, with shimmers of purple streaked into it. Her peach-toned skin had become a pale reflection of what it once was from the amount of chemicals the Biovolt had pumped into her body, but never the less, she was still very pretty. She sat on her bed as her aunt reached for the make-up box and surrounded her crimson eyes with a thin layer of eyeliner and tickled her long eyelashes with a soot toned mascara. Placing her silver necklace with her bit-chip around her neck May couldn't help but let out a small tear of Joy. "You look so beautiful," She smiled, "Oh look at me blubbering, we should go downstairs the guests will be arriving soon." Alex nodded, and let her aunt dimmer the lights and lead her by the hand down the grand staircase to the ballroom.

"Alexander Ivanov," Welcomed a man dressed in a dark green suit, "Oh what a wonderful pleasure to meet you," He smiled as he took her right hand and kissed it, "The pleasure is mine," Xander smiled wirily and moved about the room. Never before had she seen the ballroom so full, the many adults stood around the edges, leaving the dance part of the room free, whilst the orchestra softly played. Many held glasses of red wine or plates filled with food of many high standard, Xander would have just preferred something low key... like chips or something full of calories. She loved being able to enjoy the luxuries of a free life. But no matter how much she ate, she remained slender, because of the 1-meal a day rule that ran though out the abbey.

She moved away across the room and selected the nearest glass to pour a soft drink and secretly add some vodka, it was going to be a hard night, the alcohol would help calm her nerves, or so she wished. She tried to pick at the conversations that buzzed around the room to see if she could make any sense of why Voltaire was visiting, and she wondered, if Voltaire was here would that mean her despised uncle would be here? And Kai... would he be here?

She turned around sharply as her ears picked up the sound of her name being added to a conversation somewhere. She found two males, barely a day over 30, talking about her mother fondly, "She was such a beautiful woman. So caring and charming... Shame really," He sighed knocking back his whiskey, "I remember sitting in that restaurant every night just watching her float around the room. Word has it that her daughter is here. Oh I would love to meet her daughter."

She furrowed her eyebrows, she wasn't sure if she liked the idea of men talking so fondly of her, or her mother. The grief still ripped at her insides. She then found her godfather stood under one of the lights hung above him on the ceiling. He caught her eye, and summoned her over to chat to the man he was stood with. The man was tall and powerful looking with piercing green eyes, dressed in a dark tailored suit. James himself was dressed in his dark gray pinstripe suit with his unkempt brown hair, gelled to try and restore some sort of style. "This is Xander," James smiled. The man looked at Alex, half peering over the glass. "Is this the girl?" He asked, to which James nodded. "Nice to meet you, the names Wren. I'm here because im meant to be a bodyguard to-" He paused, "Where the hell has he gone... never mind the guys old enough to look after himself..." Xander smiled at him, "You here to see Voltaire?" She asked as he cleared his throat hastily, "Not as such. I really do not have any compassion for that man, I really have no idea how these people," He spat, "Can follow him around and cheer every time he commits a disgusting deed. I personally don't have the faintest idea why..." He furrowed his eyebrows, "Do you still have the scars?" Xander lowered her gaze to the floor, "That man deserves to be put in a prison cell, what he did to you was callous and pathetic. I'm glad you left the Abbey," James nodded in agreement, "It is a good thing you live here now Alex, and I promise tonight, he will not hurt you." She smiled faintly, "I know you will protect me."

There came a large uproar of noise. Voltaire had arrived.

Everybody was silent as he entered, a man wearing a mask over his eyes followed closely behind. Alexander couldn't help but let out a small curse as she watched, James pressed his hand to her shoulder reassuringly. They all glazed, silently at the figures. In Voltaire's shadow, slowly followed a tall, muscular boy with two-toned coloured hair, part slate part ash blue. His hazy purple eyes retained a cold bitter look as his scarf trailed seamlessly behind him. James leant down to whisper in Alex's ear, "Is that Kai?" He asked, Alex nodded, "Yes, that's kai. The boy I grew up in the Abbey with." The man that was standing with the two smiled, "That's where he bloody got to," Wren was heard to mutter. The room had soon retained the loud level of conversation, "James, I'm going to get out for a while, it might be best." James nodded; "Be careful," Alex smiled and quickly ran out of the room, heading for the nearest bathroom.

Xander appeared in the main hall 10 minutes later, having vomited from the nerves that racked her body. "Son of a-" She cursed as she brushed her teeth rapidly and made her way back into the room. James watched her enter and rushed over to her quickly, "Are you okay?" He panicked holding his hand to her forehead, "Your boiling-oh the maids told me you weren't very well. You should go upstairs to sleep-oh im worrying and then Voltaire-and..." Xander frowned, "Im fine." Her eyes regained a glint of fear as a large man approached, "Well, if it isn't Alexander," He spoke, his words harsh and bitter.

"Hello Voltaire." She glared, "Well I see there's an orchestra playing, would you care to dance?" Alex obliged knowing only too well it wasn't a request. Voltaire led her into a waltz. "I didn't think you would have the guts to show here." He spat, his body over towering the small girl. "You underestimate me." Voltaire bitterly laughed, "You always where a bitch," Alex knocked him in the chest, pushing his arms away, "You're a creep!" She exclaimed, he returned the knock with a hard right hand slap across her face, leaving a deep crimson hand mark. Alex fell to the floor helpless as Voltaire lifted his leg to kick her "You leave her alone!" Shouted a young male, "Oh Kai, trying to be the knight in shining armor?" He laughed sickly as he sized Kai by his forearm in which in return Kai punched Voltaire in the face, knocking him back. He ran to Alex and picked her up holding her tightly, to stop her from adding to the assault of injury. "Kai take her upstairs," Called James, "I'll take care of this." And so Kai did, leading Alex up the stairs. The night resided in Voltaire spending a night in a cold, well earnt cell.