Sadly, I own nothing but this completely made up place these people live in.


Ari blinked. The manor before him was a grand place. It was tall with many windows, a sprinkling of balconies and covered with budding ivy. There was an iron-wrought gate and fence; a curved driveway led to a pair of large, stately doors. Exotic flowers lined the drive. At the moment, a gardener was elbow-deep in fertilizer, and he paid no mind to the group of boys hovering at the gate.

Berwald, with his usual stoic expression, said nothing. Tino shared a glance with Lukas and remained silent. Christoffer was the first to speak. "Well, we could be going to worse places," he said with his usually tactlessness.

While his expression didn't change, there was a distinct aura of annoyance as Lukas flickered a glance at Christoffer. Tino frowned, but surprisingly Berwald agreed. "True," he said simply before falling silent again.

Ari tried to reassure his brothers. "I'm sure we will been fine here," he said as he turned to face them. "We'll be living like princes." He waved a hand towards the manor.

"We'll be servants," Lukas said coolly.

"Yes," Ari conceded, "but living in greater splendor than we ever dreamed of."

"I don't want to go," Tino said brokenly.

A tense and somewhat awkward silence descended on the group. They had actively avoided the topic for the past fortnight since they learned, upon their father's death, that he had accumulated an alarmingly large debt to one of the richest families in town: the Wang family.

It had been a blow to the brothers, who had been misled by their father into believing that their financial situation was one to be envied. Now they hung their heads in shame, humiliated. To live in debt was appalling; it meant that they possessed less than nothing, that someone else actually owned all that would be theirs.

Well, that was how Ari felt anyway. Tino seemed to just be depressed while Christoffer was the source of good cheer and hope. Berwald and Lukas didn't show or speak of their emotions, but long association had made Ari familiar with their mannerisms, and he knew that they felt something, too.

It was ironic, really: Tino, Lukas and Ari were adopted; the man the had called father had done so to save them from a life of wretchedness and poverty. In the end, however, their very savior had been the one to drag them back into the pit of despair and ignominy.

Berwald put a protective arm around his "wife," a term he used for the smaller man for as long as Ari could remember. Tino leaned on him a bit as the big man began to lead them back to the house.

Of course, it wasn't their house anymore, Ari thought bitterly. It belonged to someone else, some unknown man who would take over the place in two days, the same day they would begin their new lives as veritable slaves.

Ari jumped when he felt a hand curl around his arm. He looked up to see his brother, Lukas. While they didn't look anything alike - Lukas had blond hair and deep though blank blue eyes while Ari had silvery hair and purple eyes that sometimes had a pinkish tint to them - they were blood brothers. Lukas had always look out for him, a gesture Ari had always appreciated, though sometimes it was a little overbearing.

"Come on, brother," Lukas said. He began to almost drag Ari along, making the smaller boy nearly trip over his own feet.

Christoffer followed them at a leisurely pace, whistling. It was extremely annoying, but Ari kept his mouth shut. He tuned out his brother and glanced behind him at the slowly shrinking manor. The sun was setting behind it, so that the building looked black and more than a little demonic. Ari turned around abruptly and tried to think no more of his dismal fate.


Two days later

Ari turned slowly around his former bedroom. He had shared this room for twelve years, since he was four years old, with his brother. There had been two narrow but comfortable beds, a tall wardrobe, a table and two chairs. There had been drawings tacked to the wall, clothes scattered on the floor (never for long, though, as their father had been strict about keeping their rooms neat), various nicknacks on every free surface. It had not been grand or richly decorated, but it had been his. Now all of the furniture was gone, sold like the house to cover some of the debt. Ari kept only a few things: Clothes hand-made by Berwald, a little wooden man made by - surprisingly - Christoffer, a treasured drawing of the family by Lukas, a small book given to him by Tino, a stuffed toy puffin from his father and what little money he had. Everything else was, quite simply, gone.

He stepped towards the wall his bed had been pushed against. He touched it gently, reverently, closing his eyes as he allowed years' worth of memories to wash over him. He recalled fondly the first time he had slept in this room: He had been afraid, very afraid, and spent most of the night listening to his brother's soft snores and staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. He had been very cranking the next morning, but that hadn't stopped Father from lifting him on his knee and doting on him. No matter what he had done, the man had been an excellent parent.

Ari couldn't remember his biological parents, though Lukas could. All he knew was that they got sick and died, and that he and his brother had been unwanted and unloved by whomever they had been sent to live with. They hadn't lived with those people for long; it had been on the verge of winter when they came to live with The People - as Ari thought of them - and it had been snowing when they had landed on Father's doorstep. How they got there Ari didn't know, but someone must have been watching out for them. Otherwise, they would have perished in the snow, without anyone mourning or caring.

"Ari?"

Berwald's gruff voice shook him out of his thoughts. Ari turned to face his eldest brother, who was pushing his glasses up his nose and shifting the bag slung over his shoulder. "T'me t'go," he said, or rather, mumbled. Ari dropped his hand and gathered his own sack; tears of self-pity threatened as he walked towards Berwald. A myriad of emotions churned in his gut, and Ari just felt like falling to the floor, kicking and screaming. It was a strange sort of agony, like someone was being torn away from him, but he didn't know who it was or why he felt so awful.

His brothers awaited downstairs, all strapped down with their meager belongings. They were all quiet, even Christoffer whose expression was grave. They all, Ari realized, felt like he did. It was a terrifying emotion, but it was comforting to know that he wasn't the only one who felt this way.

They stood in silence for a long moment. In their own, wordless ways they said goodbye to the life they had always known. Ari tilted his head back - to look at the ceiling one last time, he told himself, but in truth it was to keep the tears from spilling. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before slowly opening them and bringing his face down. He looked at his brothers, and after a while, they looked at him and at each other.

Lukas cleared his throat. "Time to go," he said, echoing Berwald's earlier words. And, it seemed to Ari, his voice cracked the tiniest bit.


They did not get to enter through the large iron gate; rather, they had to walk to the posterior of the manor and go through the servants' entrance. They had been brought to Wang Manor by a jovial-looking man who simply called himself by his position: Butler. He was old, very old, and there were gray tufts of hair in his ears, but his eyes were clear and kind, his gate yet springy, his ears twitching at the slightest sound. Ari liked him on sight.

Butler was saying to them as he took them up a short flight of stairs and into a magnificent hallway, "Master Wang always likes to meet the new servants himself and place them. He's a good man, our master."

"Does he send you out to collect all of your new servants?" Lukas asked a little archly.

"Hmm? Oh, no. Most apply here themselves, you see," he said, "so it's unnecessary. However, your circumstances are...unique. At least, here they are. So he sent me to fetch you." He stopped in front of a door and placed his hand up to knock. "This is the study," he explain. He rapped on the door twice in quick procession. A muffled voice said, "Enter," and Butler opened the door.

It was a modest albeit lovely room. There were many plants in the room - mostly bamboo - and beautiful landscapes on the wall. There was, on one side of the room beneath a painting of a panda, a crimson-colored sofa. There were three matching chairs in front of a large desk, behind which was a tall window that allowed view of a garden. A man sat at the desk.

"Master," Butler greeted with a bow, "these are the brothers."

Following suit, the brothers all bowed to the man, who quickly said for them to rise. Ari looked up and watched as a thin man skirted around the desk and came to stand before them.

Ari's first thought was that he looked like a she. The man's features were androgynous, though pleasing; his hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he wore a changshan. The man - Master Wang - folded his arms over his chest and smiled pleasantly at them. "Hello," he said, "I am Yao Wang, aru. I am the master here." He waved an arm to encompass "here." "I have not assigned duties to you yet, aru. For that, I need to know your strengths, and you will need to tell me. But first, tell me your names, aru. I know them but not the faces."

The murmured their names, and Master Wang smiled approvingly. "Good. Now, Berwald, yes? What can you do, aru?"

"Sewin'," Berwald replied, "'ousework, an' buildin'. Gard'nin, too."

"The gardener is always complaining about needing help," Butler put in.

"He is, isn't he? Very well, you will work outdoors. Christoffer, aru?"

"I'm a pretty decent gardener, too."

"Then you may work with your brother." Master Wang turned to Tino. "Are you a gardener, too?" he asked jokingly.

Tino, relaxing at the humor, smiled slightly. "No. I fear I don't have any talents to speak of." The smile faded, and he worried his lip.

"Well, you don't need to be talented to be a footman, aru," Master Wang said kindly.

"No," Tino replied, relieved.

"Good, good." To Lukas, "And you?"

Ari looked at his brother. For a moment, Ari had the suspicion that Lukas' reply would be, "I'm a magician." That wasn't exactly true, but his brother did see and speak to spirits and mythical beasts, and Lukas did know a spell or two. But his answer was simply, "Cooking."

"You will help Chef, then, aru." Master Wang glanced at Ari. "Hmm, I would have you clean, aru. Is that okay?"

Ari was taken aback. Admittedly, he didn't have an answer to supply, but he thought it a little odd that the man didn't at least ask him if he had any particular talent. But rather than voicing his thoughts, he merely nodded. "Good," Master Wang said, pleased. "Butler, would you show them around, aru?"

"Certainly," the old man replied with a bow. And just like that they were dismissed and being led from the study.

Butler was talking in a low voice, explaining which doors went where, what rooms they could and could not enter when they passed a young man. His dark hair hung in his face a bit, but it didn't hide the two large eyebrows above rather yellowish brown eyes. His face was expressionless, quite like Lukas', and he was dressed similarly to Master Wang.

At the sight of him, Butler stopped and bowed, murmuring, "Good day, Master Michael."

The brothers mimed him, but Ari could resist sneaking a peek at the newcomer. To his surprise, Master Michael's gaze was focused intensely on him, and Ari couldn't stop his cheeks from turning pink slightly. Then as suddenly as he had appeared, he left. Butler continued the tour, but Ari only listened with half an ear. His thoughts kept returning to this Master Michael.

He glanced over his shoulder where the boy had disappeared and was curiously disappointed not to see him.


A/N: Review, please, and let me know what you think.

Ari = Iceland
Lukas = Norway
Christoffer = Denmark
Michael = Hong Kong

I picked the first three because I liked them (Christoffer? Pft.) and the last one because...just because.