Disclaimer: Yes, yes I don't own it.
And yes... I KNOW I shouold work on other things. But this bunny wouldn't leave me alone! It threathened to mutate and tear me to shreds! I hope you can forgive. Angels and demons (or not) oh, my!
/stares at fic/ Yeah, I'm aware it's very much a cliché already.... but some of them I can't leave alone. Hope you can forgive. This was one of them... I really didn't want to give in and write it, since it' hard to keep the feeling of the original series inextreme AUs like this. But, yah. Happened.
/Thoughts/
::Speech between Bonds::
:Speech between Bonds: (this one won't happen for a while yet, but I have it here, it's one for each person.)
Chapter 1; The White Demon
Hallowed be Thy name
Prince of the Blood, Son of the Land
Inverse be Thy nature
But black bleeds from white, and so balanced out
Hallowed be Thy name
Heir of the Blood, Lord of the Land
Fierce as blood and fire
But sees to health and living, and so balanced out
Hallowed be Thy names
Lord and Lady of the Heaven and Earth,
Chaos of Space that surrounds us
Protect the Blood, protect the Land, so we all can prosper and live
Hallowed be Thy names and Presence in all that exist
The chanting echoed through the temple, the morning prayer for the Royal Family and the Twinned Ruling Deities and Chaos a constant for the priests who lived there and whoever wanted to pray for their rulers' health. Two figures stood in the shadows cast by a pillar, none of the small glowing balls of light that served as lamps anywhere near. The prayer was chanted three times before it was over, the priests, priestesses and few commoners present rising from their positions on the floor and moving away for whatever errands required their attention next. One of the figures leaned back against the pillar, momentarily coming into reach of one of the "Fairy-lights", his hair flashing sliver.
"It's admirable that you are present for every morning prayer, all year round, Nii-sama."
The silvery haired one said softly, looking out over the large temple hall with the statue of the Twinned Deities dominating the head of the room. The other figure, a little shorter than the first, shrugged.
"This is the place where my High Priest is each morning, and so is the easiest place to find him. I do not have enough hours in the day for leisurely dallying, otouto. Ah, Seto. Finally.
I will see you later, otouto." The spiky-haired young man nodded to his white-haired little brother, bronze skin gleaming in the fairy-lights as he moved out of the shadows to greet the High Priest. Looking after the short ruler of Daeva, Ryou sighed and shook his head, feeling sad.
"Maybe not, but before, you took the time. You listened to the prayer not because it was where Seto was, but because you wanted to. Did you forget that?" The pale-skinned young Daimon looked nothing like his older brother, but that could be credited to Ryou's mother; their father's second wife. Ryou took after her while Atemu looked like their late father, may he rest in peace with the Lady, multihued and spiky hair and all.
"Standing here sulking again, your highness?" The bright voice made Ryou jump and he scowled down at the brown-haired and doe-eyed girl as he turned around to face her.
"I'm not 'sulking', Mana. It's just..." Ryou made a helpless gesture towards the disappearing figures of the Lord and the High Priest. The priestess-in-training nodded.
"I know. He's forgotten how to relax. It's this war, is all. He needs someone to remind him he don't need to work all the time, remind him to have fun."
Ryou nodded and shrugged, blue eyes darkening with unhappiness.
"Yes, but it doesn't seem that person exist anywhere close to here. A Bond would do him good."
"A Bond would do you good too, your highness!" The girl said mischievously, cackling as she ran away from Ryou and to her lessons. Scowling again, Ryou gave in to the childish urge to stick his tongue out, but quickly withdrew it. Wouldn't do if anyone saw the Heir behaving like a Daimon of 5 turns. He had a front to uphold. But since he'd been standing in the shadows, and there'd been no one close to observe him, he assumed his momentarily lapse could be excused. Turning around and stalking out, large black bat wings curled tightly together on his back and contrasting starkly against his clothes in white and ice-blue, Ryou headed for the drill-area of the palace. He needed to get some practice in. Who knew when those sneaky Spirituals would send another attack?
Slash, hack, swing, parry, thrust, twirl-slash, stab... The movements were second nature to the Daimon, his weapon a trusted friend in his hands. He had a whole area for himself, not only because he was the Crown Prince, but also because he simply was too good for all of their troops. There was no challenge there. So he made do with the Dance, submerging himself into the dangerous and graceful trance-like state of it. It kept his edge, even if he had no one to spar against... A clang of steel against steel didn't disturb his trance, he only adjusted so he followed the flow of air that was created as his opponent moved. A sharp yell had his eyes snapping open, and he realized what he had been about to do. Shaking, he drew the glaive away from Karimu's throat, backing off.
"I-I'm sorry Captain. I... I didn't mean..." Oh, Lady, what had he almost done? The Dance was so dangerous since its practitioners could easily fall too deep into it and kill anyone with a weapon, no matter if they were supposed to be on "his" side or not, or if there was a battle going on or just a sparring session. The black-haired man shook his head.
"Nothing to excuse for, your highness. I knew the danger, and you did stop." His voice was deep and soothing, usually able to still the fears of even the most nervous cadet, but not today.
"No... Captain, I could just as well have finished it! This wasn't even a battle for Lady's sake! And I... I could have.... I should stop practice the Dance." Ryou was wringing his hands, huge blue eyes staring into the Captain's own. Karimu's face gentled from its usual stern and unmoving mask, showing sympathy, understanding, and pride in its place.
"Your highness. You know it's impossible for those practicing the Dance to just quit it. Those with the skill do not just decide to start practice it; they are called by it. You will stop the Dance as soon you can learn how to live without breathing. You know this. I have the outmost faith in you, your highness. If there is anyone able to stop when needed, it is you."
Ryou didn't believe him, what did he know? He didn't feel the Dance as Ryou did, and didn't have the knowledge... and besides... Even if Ryou happened to have good discipline and a will not to hurt others when it was avoidable, everybody knew that only those that had Bonds could really trust themselves not to lose themselves to the Dance, since their Bonds could call them back. And Ryou didn't have a Bond. It was not unknown for longtime Dancers to suddenly loose themselves, killing everything and everyone in reach and sight before, without even leaving the trance, somehow knowing what they had done, killing themselves. The worst case had been a Spiritual loosing themselves in a battle against the Daimons.
Back then, some three thousand years ago, both Spirituals and Daimons practiced the Dance, but after that the dance was forbidden among Spirituals. Concerning the battle, which was known both officially and in common man's mouth as the Massacre at Rising Hill, the Spiritual had lost himself, and killed every warrior on both sides. As the sun set, the only one standing was that lone Spiritual. Depending on which version you read, the Spiritual either killed himself out of grief and guilt, or went crazy, running away to never be seen again.
Some others even said it had been a final act of revenge; it was said the Spiritual's village had been gruesomely butchered, every last person within it killed, both by Daimons and Spirituals. The reason had been that the village had been standing on a rich nexus of magic, a portal to that void where Chaos reigned supreme; the Shadow Realm. However it was with that, neither side had been able to claim the supposed nexus since the area was, even today, impossible to live in, cursed by Chaos itself for the horrifying deed done to those who guarded one of the portals to the Shadow Realm.
Turning the last page of the book, Ryou sighed. Personally he'd always thought it was the last. There actually was a place between the borders of Daeva and Spira which was as the last version of the story described it. Not that it could be confirmedif there actually was a ruin on that piece of land, since no one who ventured there had survived. Getting up from the chair, the Daimon picked up his blue-and white armless robe and put it on. It reached his ankles, swirling around his legs as he moved around his room, righting things and putting others away. Their intelligence had picked up that Spira planned another attack and Ryou was, as a representative of the Royal House, going with the army.
Biting his lower lip, the slender prince stopped at a large window, looking out at the rain-drenched landscape outside.
Seemed the Lord agreed with him.
This war was pure stupidity and old, scorned pride. Neither side was giving this up. Whatever started the conflict had been long lost to the fog of time, and it probably wouldn't matter anymore. They were fighting, and would so continue until the other side had been annihilated.
A pale-skinned hand, almost translucent in its delicate shade, was lifted up and long, fine-boned fingers traced the fine carvings in the glass. He had a feeling about this battle... something. He couldn't say if it was good or bad yet, but something would happen. The Lord and Lady were balance and order, keeping Daeva and Spira on a carefully crafted scale. Neither was loosing, but no one was winning either. But now Chaos was stirring, and was not pleased at what it was seeing. No change, nor growth, can come from stagnation, and apparently Chaos had decided this stagnation had been going on for long enough.
That was what it felt like to Ryou at least. And he knew to trust these little instincts. Besides being gifted with the Dance, he also had the touch of Chaos, being able to control the beings living in that dark void called the Shadow Realm without the help of a Dia Diank, which most others would need. His older brother was one among those in Daeva who didn't need one either. But his touch of Chaos went a little deeper than that. Sometimes, he would get feelings that something would happen, good or bad, and could be prepared. Sometimes he even thought he could see the shades of people long gone, still lingering at the edges of this reality... A knock on the door interrupted Ryou's musings and he turned around calling out for his visitor to enter.
"Hello Karimu." Ryou said softly, smiling happily. He was glad the Captain was going. But that was no surprise really; while his title may only have been "Captain" in the army, during battle it was "General-Commander" which meant he had complete control over the whole army, even over the other Generals, who, in Ryou's humble opinion, were conceited assholes who needed a kick in the behind and get down from their high, noble horses. The other Generals were all nobles, three of them having inherited their positions, while the fourth had worked herself to it, and was the only one Ryou liked. He was scared of her, but he liked her. Needless to say, the other Generals hated her.
"Ready your highness?" The Captain asked and Ryou smiled again, nodding.
"As ready as I can be... let's go then, yes?"
Karimu didn't answer, but bowed and stepped to the side as Ryou walked out of his room and down the corridor to yet another useless confrontation.
Cold air tore and bit into whatever uncovered skin it could find, unpredictable gusts of air making the battle-field hard to navigate.
Ryou ducked, almost lazily, under another swing, having noticed that one ages before it even came close to him. For Ryou, this was all child's play. No Spiritual practiced the Dance anymore, it was even forbidden on a punishment of exile to Dance, so no one had the level of skill to match this furious angel of Death.
The air was filled with the scream of metal, battle-cries, and the shouts of dying warriors as they plunged towards the earth below them, and flurries of white feathers from the Spirituals' wings. Ryou was a sight to behold on the battlefield, nimble and graceful, swift as falcon, black wings beating the air to effortlessly keep him aloft. The fact that his armor went in the same color-scheme as his usual clothing shook many; in white and ice-blue he was a contradiction if there ever was one. Blue eyes regretful, and apologetic even in the seductively softand destructive hand of the Dance.
He saw his opponents, and yet not. A black-winged, pale-clad harbinger of death.
A blade suddenly struck Ryou's own and he immediately opened his eyes. This was different. The feeling he'd had a week ago came back in full force, battering him with its insistence. Red and black. That was what first registered in Ryou's mind. The dark skin and burning, silvery eyes were next. Another contradiction in a sea of convention.
Daeva's army had colors of dark red, black and purple, while Spira's army went in white, lavender and gold. This Spiritual had armor in blood-red carved with a strangely hypnotic pattern. Ryou absently noticed the carvings portrayed suffering people, but, most strangely, the carvings portrayed both Daimons and Spirituals. His leathers went in black and he had a positively wicked looking scimitar in his hands, with a pair of curved and with extra points sticking from the gleaming blades, knives tucked in his sash.
Ryou wasn't able to catch his opponent's eyes, because suddenly, he found himself hard-pressed to defend himself against the Spiritual. Employing all his strength and skill he quickly succumbed to the Dance fully. But not even now he could come close enough to kill the Spiritual. They were evenly matched, black-purple handled glaive against the steel, with red veins running along the metal, scimitar.
Trading blow for blow they raced through the air, blood suddenly blossoming on one blade. Ryou gasped, eyes widening in pain before shutting down. He didn't even glance at the wound in his left upper arm where the scimitar had bitten into his flesh.
He was vaguely aware of the battle around him, of something important taking place somewhere off to his right, but it didn't register. He had his hands full, there were others to take care of whatever it was. The air around them seemed to have enclosed them in a bubble, where nothing else but them existed.
There was no sound, no wind, no other warriors. Only the cold enveloping them in unforgiving caresses as they fought.
A swish-flick of his glaive, shadowed-violet eyes widening as blood blossomed on the other blade. Then the eyes narrowed again and the wild-haired man smirked appreciatively before lunging forward, ignoring the blood running down the right side of his face. Another swish-flick and twirl, but the move that should have killed the Spiritual had done little more than to add to the scratch on his face. It should have lopped his head off cleanly, but that wasn't what had happened. Ryou growled and lunged forward angrily. He was aware of hearing someone scream, and then realized it was he.
A burning in his side, but he ignored it, he finally had his opponent!
NO one escaped him!
Then intense blue locked with surprised silver and Ryou faltered. Not because of the eyes, or the look in them, even if there was something there calling to him... but because of what he'd just had done crashed down in him.
He'd given himself completely over to the Dance. He froze, shocked, feeling a disgusting tentacle of shame and horror crawl up his throat.
WHY..?
He didn't have time to react as the butt of the scimitar's handle connected with his temple.
And this was the end of this first chapter.... usual angel/demon cliché with a twist I hope....
"Dia Diank" (however it is spelled) is the equivalent of duel disks in the Ancient Egypt Arc. And a fun fact; did you know that "Daimon", which is ancient Greek, actually was a guardian spirit, and not a demon? Something to think about! XD