Disclaimers:
Refer to the third last paragraph of my pre-story author's note.
This will be a shonen-ai/yaoi fic, and although I havn't got to the pairings yet, i'm almost sure they will be: BxS, YxA, NxO, KxOC, and Farf gets the blender.
Because of excessive violence (in my opinion) and foul launguage, not counting the future yaoi-goodness, this fic has an R rating. But I'm doubting that'll stop the younger readers... Either way, you've been warned.
Sorry, no Weiss 'till the first chapter. Please still read. pouty face

"Primary Speech" Basically the main speech of the area, except for the first half of the prologue, where it's German. ex. In the States, it's English, Japan, japanese, etc. unless otherwise stated at the beginning of the chap.

'Gaelic Irish Speech'

Secondary Speech - any secondary language, ex, in Japan it would be English, but it will be stated at the beginning of the chap

/Thinking, telepathy/ - with telepathy, the telepath can understand the thoughts, no matter the language.

Visions will be described while they happen.

And because Ailín believes it's normal, there is no real distinction for his "knowingness" or how he knows things, except when he actively seeks it out, then it will be described as I see fit.

And for those of you who don't have access to a dictionary, or are just too lazy to look it up, this is the definition of the title:

Apotheosis - elevation to the rank of a God; the highest point of glory, power or importance; the best or most glorious example of something.

APOTHEOSIS
Prelude: Perilous Descent

'Ailín (1), Ailín! Swee'ling, i' is time t' come home!'

A little boy with fiery-red hair and mismatched eyes of green and blue came running up to a beautiful woman wearing a long dress and apron. Throwing his arms around her, the little boy tilted his head back and asked with big eyes, 'Mothair, why di' ye call me? I wus a-playing...'

The blue haired woman ruffled her son's hair as he struggled against it. 'I's almos' time fer suppair (2), an' I will be needin' the help of a big, strong laddie t' help with the stew. I wus hopin' you could find a laddie fer me...'

Ailín puffed out his little chest and announced in a loud, deep vioce, 'I'ma big, strong laddie. I kin help ye, Mothair!' As Ailín ran off into his two story home, his mother hid a smile as she followed her son.

As Ailín was setting the table, a bigger version of him walked into the kitchen and ruffled his hair. 'Fathair, dinna do tha'! I'ma big laddie!'

The man laughed as he swung his son up into his shoulders. 'Really? If yer such a big laddie, how kin I do this?' Ailín grumbled softly, and resting his chin on his father's head, he pouted. Turning to his wife, he kissed her, and asked when will their supper be ready.

Eoghan (3) smiled, 'Uaine (4), i' wull be ready inna...' and her voice faded away into nothing. Uaine watched in nervous anticipation as Eoghan's eyes dilated until the green of her iris' dissapeared. Her body jerked sudddenly and she clutched at her chest, panting, wide -eyed and unseeing. Uaine pulled Ailín off his shoulders and went to his wife, whose eyes contracted to a normal size. Ailín frowned, not understanding.

Eoghan turned to Ailín and commanded, 'Ailín, run t' the faerie circle (5) next t' the caves, an' stay there 'till yer called.'

Ailín eyed his supper and whined, 'But Mothair, m' suppair! I' 'll ge' cold...' Uaine looked at his son and said softly, 'Lis'en t' yer mam...' Ailín looked up at his parents, looked to his food, sighed softly and ran out the door.

After Aiín had left, Uaine looked at his wife, 'Eoghan, wha' did y' See (6)?' Eoghan whispered softly, 'They're a-comin' fer our Ailín, for his téadóir.(7)' Uaine hugged his wife to him and replied, 'They willna ge' 'im.'

........................................

Ailín slowly sat up and looked around him, rubbing at his sleepy eyes. He was still sitting in the faery circle, and judging by the encroaching darkness, he must have fell asleep and it was now past his dinner time. Idly wondering at what caused him to wake, he slowly stood up and rubbed at his grumbling tummy. His mam told him to stay until called, but he knew that was never going to happen.

Ailín frowned at that thought. His mothair would never forget about him, so why did he know she was never going to call him back home? Scrunching up his face, Ailín began to think hard. Little arms clasped behind his back, he began to pace around the inside perimeter of the circle. He then stopped and looked towards the twilight-streaked sky, unconciously mimicking first his father then mother. Furrowing his brows, he absently rubbed at his chest, where his heart is found.

'Why does me hear' hur'?' he asked to his sourroundings. Snivelling softly, he whispered, 'I wish me mam wus...' His eyes slowly widened to the size of saucers, 'Mam? Daa? MAM! DAA!' Running and screaming for his parents, Ailín knew why his mam or daa weren't going to call him, they wern't alive to do so.

........................................

"Damn, that didn't go well... wonder where the little brat got to?"
"Doesn't matter where the "little brat" went, he is coming back."
The man with blonde hair, dressed in a black turtleneck sweater and dark indigo jeans turned to the brunette woman who replied to his statement. Grinning, he commented, "I will NEVER envy one with the talent of telepathy, but I will admit, it does have its uses."
The woman smirked and replied, "It certainly does. Right now it's telling me the kid will be here in less than five minutes, so be ready to grab him and we can leave this Irish mudhole."
The blonde holstered the gun he was polishing, and cracked his knuckles. "I'm ready!"
At the sound the woman winced, causing the blonde too laugh and comment. "Something's wroong when you can easily torture and gun down a family" he indicated the dead bodies of Ailín's parents "without batting an eye, but you visibly wince when I crack my knuckles."
The brunette rolled her eyes, "Shut up, Defender."
"Make me, Stratedgist."
Feeling Ailín's confused and tormented thoughts, she signaled her partner and turned towards the kid.
"A little shrimpy, isn't he? What's his power supposed to be?"
Stratedgist answered without taking her eyes off the slowly approaching boy who was rambling in Gaelic. "Not sure, he has a mix of clairvoyancy, telepathy and empathy that allows him to "know" things, for lack of a better term."
Defender whistled slowly, "Wow... no wonder Rosenkreuz sent us to the middle of nowhere to find this kid. Is it passive or aggressive?(8)"
Stratedgist shrugged, "It's too early to tell whether it can be trained to become aggressive, if it can become that at all."
They both heard the kid gasp and wail in Gaelic, the only words they recognised were "Fathair" and "Mothair".
Defender laughed softly, "I'm guessing he knows they're dead."
Stratedgist smirked, "And he knows that we did it. He's furious, you can practicaly feel the fury rolling off of him (9). It's cute... "

/Hey, kid. So you know it was us; what you should also know is that you're going to be coming with us. There's no point in fighting, we're too strong./
/How are ye speakin' in me head?/
/Humph. The same way your mother could "See" and your father could "Feel". You're just like us, and that's why you are going to come with us./
/NEVER! I'm no' like ye! I dinna kill people!/
Stratedgist laughed over the link. /Right now you might not kill people, but you will. I guarantee it./
Ailín clenched his fists and began to tremble with rage. /Why did y' kill me Mam and Daa?/
Stratedgist smiled sweetly, /Because they wouldn't let us take you. They died trying to stop us. do you know what that makes them?/
/Uasal./
Stratedgist shook her head. /No, that doesn't make them noble. It makes them stupid, and that's why they were kiled because the ignorant deserve to die./
Ailín snarled at the woman, and thought softly. /Which one o' ye kille' me Mam, and' who kille' me Daa?/
Stratedgist smirked. /He kille' yer Daa, an' I... I kille' yer Mam./
Ailín looked the witch in the eye. /Thank ye./

"What's going on?"
Stratedgist shook her head, "Nothing. Just tormenting the kid a bit, told him who killed his parents."
Defender raised a brow. "Are you sure that's wise?"
Stratedgist smirked then shrugged. "What's he going to do about it?"

During their little discussion, Ailín's anger and fury increased until it could not be contained. When it reached this point it felt like something turned on in Ailín's mind, and whatever that something was he felt it channel its way from his mind and to his hands, and in doing so, it burned a streak of white into his fiery-red hair (10). Whatever it was caused his blood to boil a hundred fold greater than his anger, and this burning concentrated in the cleched palms of his hands. Without opening his hands, or even looking at them, Ailín knew what it was. It was fire and his téadóir was the ability to create, control and channel it. He also knew that the witch who was speaking in his mind didn't know about it. Ailín looked the witch in the eye. /Thank ye./

Ailín watched the man speak and felt the fire increase its burn in his hands, allowing it to grow and increase in power. As the woman was replying, Ailín knew that the fire would never hurt him. He was a part of it and it a part of him. When the man spoke again, Ailín surrendered himself to the fires growing in his hands. When his arms began to rise and and his hands began to open, it was as if he was a stranger watching somebody else. When the woman spoke again, he watched his arms straighten until they were parallel and his hands were fully open until his finger were splayed wide and his thumb and index fingers were touching. He closed his eyes and felt the fire leave his body.

When he heard an agony induced scream, and smelled the nausea inducing scent of roasting flesh, he slowly opened his eyes. It felt like he was in a dream, his movements legarthic and slow. He closed his fists and the twin streams of fire were cut off. The screaming stopped and the still burning body collapsed to the ground. Ailín knew the fire would stop burning once it burned up all the fuel, or if he brought it back into his body. He would rather the witch burn into nothing, so not even her ashes would pollute with their evil.

"Strategist? STRATEDGIST!! STRATEDGIST!!! BRIANNA!!!!" Defender began to babble in Broken German as he watched the fire engulf Brianna. He tried to help her smother it, but the intense heat of the flames kept him away, and he watched in horror as her skin was blackened and burned away, to leave the bone visible in areas. He cried out when she crumpled dead onto the stone pathway outside the Aodhan (11) family home and moaned when they insatiable flames continued to devour her body. Terrified, he backed away from the macabre scene and into the house whose inhabitants he murdured only an hour earlier.

Coming out of his trance-like state, Ailín turned away from the flames that completly consumed and destroyed the witch who killed his Mam; and saw the one who killed his Daa. Watching the man stumble backwards, away in fear, Ailín slowly followed him. The man continued to babble away in German, and Ailín knew he was pleading for his life. He frowned softly. This man dared to kill his father, who did not plead for himself, even when the gun was held against his forehead and fired, this man wanted Ailín to spare his life? Ailín frowned and slowly began to bring his arms back up until he felt a resistance. Some force was holding him immobile, and he knew it was somehow caused by the trembling man standing in front of him. Angred, Ailín narrowed his eyes at the man, and licks of flame began to appear on the wooden floorboards.

The man who killed his father whimpered in fear, as the flames began to writhe and dance towards him. He backed away from the fire until he bumped into the far corner of the room, and cried out when he realized that he was trapped. The flames of fire creeped towards the man, and when he tried to stomp one of them out, the fire caught on his pant cuff and began to lick up his leg. That one flame followed by many more. Ailín watched the fire seal the man's fate.

Just before the man died, Ailín said softly, 'The Wi'ch wus wron' aboo' me paren's. Bu' she wus righ' aboo' me. She wus righ' abou' me killin' people.'

---------- ----------- ---------- ---------- ----------

An adult Ailín jerked up in bed, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, panting heavily, eyes wide and wild. His breathing starting to slow, Ailín raked a hand through his hair. He rubbed his eyes, and then his temples, thinking.
/Why ahm I rememberin' this knowh (12)? Wha' dooes this rep'resen'?/
Rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth, Ailín then scraped back his bangs. throwing the heavy covers away from his body, he lurched out of bed, as if drunk, and padded naked to the window. Leaning against it, he looked out into the LA night sky.

/Hmm. Even this far away from the city, the moon and stars natural brightness is dulled by the artificial one of the city./ Twirling one finger around the lock of white hair, Ailín closed his eyes and opened his mind like his Uncle Aidan taught him. Smiling softly, he remembered the first time he met his Uncle and how he looked nothing like his father. The smile slowly melted away when Ailín thought about the circumstances that caused his emmigration to the States and his Uncle adopting him.
/What does that dream, that memory of my parents's death signify?/ Ailín rubbed his right palm over his aching heart. /And why do I keep coming back to Uncle Aidan.../ Ailín jerked suddenly, moaned out, "Oh GOD" and slowly slid to the hardwood floor.
Ailín knew what caused him to dream of his parents' death, why his thoughts kept returning to his Uncle and why there was a painful ache in his chest, as if something was ripped out to never be replaced. The same thing happened that eve in the faerie circle all those years ago in Ireland. His Uncle's life was stolen, was snuffed out too soon by an unnatural cause.

Slumped, naked on the floor, Ailín alowed himself a quick period of greiving, of rememberance towards his Uncle. And when the painful ache in his chest lessened to a dull throb, he slowly stood up and walked towards his closet. Quickly dressing in dark clothes, he tied back his long hair and travelled down the stairs of his darkened house and into the main living room. He grabed the glass case displaying the early 17th century, Toledo Steel rapier and matching dagger and smashed the glass casing against the coffee table. Picking up the rapier from the shards of broken glass, he drew the blade to reveal the first three inches after the hilt. The pale moonlight glinted off the razor sharp blade and the reflected light caused Ailín's eyes to glint dangerously.

'Ye were righ' Unc'l. Aye hav' found ah use fer this.'

..................................................

Ailín stood across from a darkened highrise, a long, black jacket hiding the blade strapped to his right hip (13). By opening his mind (14), he was able to trace his Uncle's murderer to this building. And murderer he was, because with his knowingness, he knew that his Uncle wasn't just killed, he was assassinated. And like eight years ago when his parents were assassinated, he will once again kill the killer. But this time, he won't use his fire because it draws too much attention, what with the fire alarms and all.
Ailín slowly breathed out and calmed himself. In order to find the exact man who stole his Uncle's life he musn't get excited. After eight years of training, he knew that if he was not focused while using his téodóir, the results could become contaminated by his own self.
He closed his eyes, and opened his mind and focused on his Uncle's murder. And he watched it unfold in his head, as if in rewind. He watched as the pooling blood drew back into his Uncle's body, watched the body rise off th efloor, untwist and face forward. He watched the bullets leave his Uncle's body, the spatter going back in and the wounds closing. He watched the bullets travel back into the gun, heard three consecutive GNAB's , saw the murderer's hand lurch forward three times as he released then pressed te trigger, and watched as the gun shot residue was sucked back into the gun.(15) Ailín opened his eyes and breathed slowly, closing off his mind. He knew who the killer was.
Ailín looked at his watch. 4:30 am, one hour and five minutes until sunrise. If he wanted to escape under the cloak of darkness, he had better act fast.

.................................................

Ailín looked undetected at the man who stole his Uncle's life. He didn't look like the two assassins from eight years earlier, and he didn't feel like them either (16). It was as if he was less than them in some way, as if he was missing something they had.
Ailín shrugged it off. /It's not like it is going to matter in the long run, I know he's going to die. It probably stems from how easy it was for me to get in here./

Ailín quietly shrugged off his jacket, and silently slid the lethal blade out of its sheath. He silently padded forward, waves of stealth stealth rolling off his body, and stopped directly behind the assassin. Ailín's body was angled so that only his left side was showing, left hand holding the hilt with the blade tilted back, the tip held in the right hand, "Boo."
The assassinn jumped, pulled his gun and spun around, but before he could fire it, Ailín released the tip of the blade and swund his left arm acros and then down. The dead body of the asaassin slumped lifelessly to the ground, the decapitated head stopping it's roll three feet away.

Crouching down, he wiped the blood from the blade onto the dead man's shirt. Once clean he rose, and still facing the corpse, explained, "It's ignoble to attack an enemy unawares and from behind."
Ailín heard a gun being cocked and knew it was pointed at the back of his head. "Luckily for me, I have no gallant notions of honor. Put down the weapon and turn around, slowly."
Ailín held his arms wide and slowly placed the blade on the tiled and stained floor. He turned around and kicked the blade, causing it to go skittering towards the man withe the gun.
The man looked slightly suprised, at a loss for words. Ailín shruged, "I knew you were going to ask me to do that."
"Oh, and what else do you know?"
Ailín closed his eyes and slowly breathed out. Opening them a few seconds later, he replied. "I know your name is Julius Strope. You're 37 and one of the rare few in LA who are a natural blonde AND has no plastic surgery. You own a very profitable hotel chain, but run an even more prosperous organisation where for the right price, any problem can be taken care of. Your codename/title in this organisation is The First, and you were very annoyed when that was the same name used for the Big Bad on the last season of Buffy the Vam..."
"Stop, stop." Strope commanded, waving his gun. "I don't know whether to be amused, or..."
"You are. You are amused."
Strope raised a brow. "How do you know?"
Ailín shruged, "I just... know."
"What else do you know?"
"You want to know how I got into the building so easily, why I killed one of your assassins, if I am also targeting you..."
"Is that all?"
"No, but you are quickly growing bored of the situation."
"Hmm... " Strope perched on the corner of his desk, and let the gun dangle by his side. "How do you do that?" At Ailín's blank expression, he elaborated. "How do you know things? What I'm going to say, what I'm thinking, what I'm feeling?"
"I'm assuming the same way everybody does, Mr. Strope, by opening my mind to all the different possiblities, and focusing on a specific one. Although, it is substantially easier if I can make some sort of physical contact."
""Physical Contact?"
"Yes... if I wanted to know someting about this building, an event that happened or might happen here, or even something about one of the peole who worked/work here, it's a lot easier for me to know that something by having a physical link to start from.
Ailín tilted his head slightly, "You still want to know why I killed him." At Strope's nod, Ailín continued. "He killed my Uncle, I was merely repaying the favor. And once I killed him, I planned to leave as silently as I came."
"Why just him? Shouldn't you want to kill me as well? What if I ordered the death of your Uncle."
Ailín sighed. "If I used that reasoning, I would have to kill every superior that man reported to, every organisation that funded him, even his parents that gave him life. I'm merely content to settle for taking the life of the one who took the life of my Uncle."
"Kill the killer."
"Exactly."
"You have killed before."
"Yes, I killed the ones who took the lives of my parents."
"How old were you?"
"I was ten."
"How would you feel about working for The First?"
"Problem solving?" Alaín asked sarcastically.
"It's not as if you havn't killed before."
"Yes, but my hands are merely stained with the blood of those who have wronged my family."
"But if you join this organisation, it will become your family."
Ailín pursed his lips slightly (17), thinking about it.
"Ah, I knew you looked familiar." Ailín looked up at Strope as he walked towards him, saying "You're Ailín Aodhan, the international model. I should have recognised you, even without the white streak... Either way, this is fate, destined to be. You being an international model gives you the perfect excuse to travel to where your services are needed. I can even buy out your agency to better co-ordinate your missions. And besides, who would ever suspect a model of being an assassin?"
"Or an assassin being a model?"
Strope held out his right hand, and asked, "Are you interested in joining my family?"
Ailín shookStrope's hand, "I currently have nothing better to do."

Author's notes: 1) Ailín - pronounced "ay-LEEN", if you care... meaning of his name will be given later 2) With trying to fake an Irish brogue, lunch is called supper and dinner is dinner. 3) Ailín's mom, pronounced "oh-GAHN, mean's God's gracious gift 4) Ailín's dad, pronounced "ONN-yuh", means young warrior 5) Faerie circles were noticable rings in grass that were supposedly gates into the faerie realm. In my other stories (not posted yet) I explained that Talents are the "diluted descendants" of "demons of the dark" and their Talent is a "throwback" to their demon heritage. And because I classify Faeries as "demons of the light", the "light" from the faery circle negates the "dark" of the Talent being used, and this prevents Ailín's detection. Eoghan doesn't know this, but she does know (thanks to her clairvoyancy) that the faery circle will prevent the detection of her son. 6) See - his mom is clairvoyant, and in Ireland they're known as Seers, and when she has a vision, she Sees 7) Téadóir - pronounced "TEH-dohr", means divine gift; and it's Ailín's family's way of saying they're "Talents" (their various Talents are a gift from God) 8) Is it passive or aggressive - passive is when it just comes to you and aggressive is when you have to "work" for it 9) When emotions roll off of Ailín, he's broadcasting his empathy (not only can he feel other's emotions, it's possible that he can make other people feel his current emotion and possibly hinder then. 10) He gotthe streak of white when his powers became active. Basically brands him as a pyrokinetic, the thickness of the streak indicating the strength (Rosenkreuz is unaware of this phenomena) His Dad was a low level pyro (wasn't able to use it because of Defender's telekinesis), his streak simply looked like a few grey hairs, but Ailín has a thicker streak 'cause he's a higher level. 11)Aodhan - pronounced EH-dawn, meaning will be found out later. 12)The brogue accent - Whenever Ailín get highly emotional, agitated, pissed off, etc, the brogue "leeks" into his speech. There will be more on this in later chapters. 13)This makes him a left handed sword fighter. The only part of me inserted into this story: I'm more comfortable fighting left foot forward, so all my characters are too. 14)Basically how Ailín aggressively uses his powers. Shown in detail a few paragraphs down. 15)The rewind scene of Aidan's murder - Just some lovely imagery and knowledge that I've picked up from watching CSI (Las Vegas, NOT Miami... ) 16)Ailín's knowingness kicking in (telepathy/empathy) - he basically feels how the assasin who killed his Uncle is Talentless (FYI, the Uncle does have a Talent, Empathy with a little telepathy... which explains Ailín's Talent excess, his entire family had them, and all those differing Talent genes were passed down and are active in Ailín. -- little Biology factoid, because the Y chromosome of a male is basically useless, whatever gene is present in the X will be an active gene; why it's more common for guys to be color blind, they lack the back-up genes on the second X chromosome which is present im females. And if it works in real life, it definately works in fiction.) 17) You always see models posing with pouty lips, and it's Ailín's pouty lips that cause Strope to recognise him.

Final General Notes: If you're wondering WHY Ailín's dream had bits of it where he wasn't there, it's cause he's "receptive" to empathy/telepathy stuff. That' what Eoghan meant when Ailín shouldn't leave the circle until called, Ailín's telepathy is receptive towards people, especially his parents. On a similar note, it still works when he's unconscious; he's still receptive but it gets processed into his subconcious mind,so it isn't all that useful. And the reason why the deaths of his parents, and his Uncle woke him up, and the pain that he felt, that stems from the telepathy/empathy. The telepathic breaking (by death) of the "connection" he feels towards people he's close to is what wakes him up (a sudden mental pain would wake most people) and the pain in his chest is an intensified feeling of loss created by his empathy.

Soo, yeah... I hope you have enjoyed the prologue, and if you have actually read this far, I commend you. In the future the author notes shouldn't be as long, it will just be long for the first few chapters until the new character, Ailín is explained (so his char is understood) or until I grow bored of the author notes... which ever comes first.

If you have any questions, ask and they shall be explained, 'cause sometimes when it makes sense in the head, it doesn't on paper. And I promise, Weiss and Schwarz will be in the next chapters. As a matter of fact, Weiss will be the first thing in the next chapter, they shall be the focus and Ailín will be more secondary... And if this doesn't make any sense, it is know 3:52 am and I still need to load to ffn.net... and my right shoulder hurts from too much typing...