-Prologue-
"Sebastiaaan! I don't think I can carry all of these- agh!" Mey Rin was proceeding down the corridor in a rush, her arms loaded up with a heaping pile of filthy laundry. Night had fallen a few hours ago, and Ciel slipped into his bedroom the moment he could. A sigh escaped him as he leaned a moment upon the tall door. His servants were rushing about like chickens with their heads lobbed off all day. Their tasks throughout the day—not surprisingly—had gone a bit amuck and now they were falling behind on chores and desperately worked to finish everything up for tomorrow. It was a 'big' day after all...
"So much fuss over a measly birthday," Ciel murmured silently to himself as he proceeded through his dark room and to his bed. He'd already been changed into his pajamas, and drifted to his bed to sit and rub at his aching temples. Really, Ciel wasn't in as much a fuss as the others were... just because his 18th birthday landed tomorrow. It really was not that big of a deal. But as usual, the others and his pesky butler insisted... whom had also peaked inside of his room after a moment, a tray in his hands. A steaming cup of tea rested upon it.
"Is there anything else I should see to, my Lord...?" Sebastian drifted near, placing the tray upon Ciel's nightstand and handing him the porcelain teacup.
"I'm done for the day," Ciel muttered, a hand raising to reach under his eyepatch and rub at the headache throbbing against his skull. "Leave."
"Yes, my lord," with that, the dark clad butler slid soundlessly out of the room, the door slipping closed with a light click. Steam moved past his pale lips, warming them before his took a few sips of the calming tea and then placed it aside. Some silence was genuinely what he needed.
Only a few moments after he leaned his head back upon his headboard and closed his eyes, a gust of wind rattled his window open, blue curtains flowing about as the wind traveled into his room. The noble scoffed faintly, moving toward the window. A pale hand reached, touching the glass though he paused when a gentle gust of wind moved—caressed—his skin. The feeling was consoling, and he could swear he felt the faintest hint of almost a transcendental air. It was faint, though unusual enough to cause the young, slender man to pause. Bare feet moved across plush, plum-colored carpet as he stepped to look out of the window.
The moon—it was impossibly large this night. A full moon. Deep blue eyes glanced up at it, observed it. The breeze ghosted over his skin again, eyes slipping closed as this utterly consoling feeling again cascaded over him. 'What is this...?' he could not help but wonder. Eyes opened slowly.
A figure floated gracefully across the moon. They were shadowed, darkened against the brilliant light of the full moon. Though Ciel could make out the silhouette, a figure clad in softly flowing layers, sitting atop a staff of some kind. A soft buzz radiated in his skin, and then he blinked. The figure was gone, replaced by a little glimmer of light akin to a firefly that slowly drifted out of view.