A/N: Yes, I've decided to do this one first… Since I only plan for it to be around 3 chapters long, so it'll be a quick one. Though my idea of quick is actually painstakingly slow…

This will be the first of my (hopefully) 5 projects to commemorate my 5th year on this site.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sound Horizon. Duh. And I know precious little about religion, so forgive me if there are any errors. I have no intention to offend.

Before Cruel Eternity

I. Before fear

Before Layla the beautiful night's daughter, there was Layla the girl. Before the girl who drank the bitter poison called cruel eternity, there was simply a happy girl, who in a blink of an eye ran and withered under the moonlight.

Before the Layla who ran away on bare feet, not knowing but fearing, there was another Layla who never knew what it meant to be afraid.

-o-o-o-

"Layla! Come here!"

A little girl of five skidded over the ground in her haste to obey the command. Even at this age, she was already wearing the veil that her father's religion dictated that all women wear. With the veil hiding much of her face, anyone who chanced upon father and daughter at the settlement would think that the child was pure Moor, with no Iberian blood in her.

Of course, Layla didn't know all this, but she was excited to wear the veil all the same, as long as it meant that she could go out and play. She had refused initially, but with the sun and sky calling to her, she couldn't maintain it for long. She had graciously donned the veil when her father playfully threatened to leave without her, and for the past hour she had been running circles around the poor man.

The tall man knelt down and caught his daughter before she could run straight into his knees and bounce right off. He swept her into his arms and carried her up before turning to another equally tall man next to him. "Come, say goodbye to Uncle."

"Bye-bye, Uncle," Layla obediently said in her slightly unclear child tones.

Her uncle obligingly smiled and nodded stiffly in acknowledgement. "Goodbye, Layla. Brother, remember what I told you…"

"I know it very well," Layla's father replied with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Do not worry, I am fully capable of taking care of my family. And I would appreciate if in the future, you do not speak of these events in front of my Layla."

His brother reluctantly agreed. "I understand. Farewell, brother, and good day."

"A good day to you too." With that, Layla's father set the girl back down on the ground, and hand in hand, they made their way back.

Of course, Layla didn't understand a single bit of the conversation that took place between her father and her uncle. She didn't know why her mother couldn't come out and play with her father and herself, beyond the usual "Mother is busy" excuse that her parents insisted on. And she certainly did not know the intense disapproval that her uncle and his family showered on her father, because despite their objections, he went and married her mother anyway.

No, to Layla the world was simple. There was her father who was a constant playmate, and her mother who took care of everything else. Then there were the twisting alleyways of the settlement that were such a joy to run around in, and the sun that made everything look bright and attractive. Simply put, it was a perfect life for the little girl.

Layla couldn't resist the impulse to jump and skip and even try to twist out of her father's grip and make him chase her through the winding streets, but for once her father's grip was firm, and he didn't let go. Layla didn't mind though, she was content to just try and receive an amused smile from above, which was all she really wanted to begin with. For any five-year-old, walking the entire distance from the centre of the settlement to the edges would have been tiring, or boring at least, but for Layla it couldn't be any more fun, what with her fruitless attempts to escape and take off over the fields and stone pavements and into the labyrinth of alleys.

And such was the Layla that arrived back at the house that she lived in, breathless from giggling but no less energetic. The moment her father's grip on her tiny hand loosened she took off into her mother's arms, laughing all the while. Her mother winced visibly at the impact, and spared her young daughter a quick comment before turning to her husband.

"Layla, you're all sticky! What have you been doing?" When the only response she received from the girl was more giggles, she turned to the girl's father with a much more sombre expression. "I heard about the raids from Abla…"

"I know about them," Layla's father said heavily, sitting down on the mat that Layla had just trod over with her dust-covered shoes. "My brother spoke of them as well, when I met him just now."

"Then -," began Layla's mother.

"You should not worry so much," Layla's father cut his wife off. "We will cross that bridge when we come to it. In any case, we still have the cellar."

Layla's mother blanched at the mention of it. Meanwhile, Layla, bored with the lack of attention, wriggled her way out of her mother's embrace and took off into the back of the house in search of better things to do.

"Layla!" Her mother sighed in exasperation. "How is it that she can have so much energy?"

Her father merely chuckled in response.

-o-o-o-

That night, after Layla had nearly driven her mother mad with frustration with her refusal to be coaxed to sleep and spent a long time demanding stories before she would fall asleep, the sound of horseshoes clacking on the stone pavements woke her parents. While little Layla slept on, oblivious to the impending danger, her father quietly slipped out into the night to find out who exactly rode those horses… And if his wife would be in any danger.

Their settlement largely comprised of Moors at its centre, but closer to its edges, like where their house stood, it was almost an even mix of Moor and Iberian. Not that the two religions ever mixed. Any contact between the two was bound to be frowned on and those who chose to intermarry, ostracised. Such as in the case of Layla's father and mother. Her father's family remained polite to their in-law, but refused all contact. Her mother's family had disowned her, but she chose to continue practicing her faith in spite of that, praying to a God whom she believed would look on her choice with kindness.

Not that the five year-old sleeping soundly would know any of this, but from the minute she could speak she was taught to respect both religions and believe in them as one and the same.

Layla's father returned home, and one look at her husband's face told his wife all she needed to know. Wordlessly she left to gather water and blankets and candles for their stay in the cellar. Layla's father bolted the door and went to retrieve his daughter.

Layla awoke just as her father was about to enter the cellar with her cradled in his arms. She looked at him with bleary eyes. She could barely make him out in the dim moonlight shining through the slots that passed for windows in this settlement. "Papa? Where we going?"

"Shh, Layla. We're playing a new game now. Whoever makes the most noise loses," her father whispered conspiratorially, all the while manoevering through the door so that Layla didn't hit her head on the doorframe.

"But I want to sleep!" Layla wailed, and her voice was so loud that her father feared that the raiders would make a beeline for their house.

However, he didn't panic. "Ah, you just made a lot of noise. You're going to lose," he said in a singsong voice while keeping his volume down.

Layla was immediately silent. Her father took this chance to settle her on one of the blankets and wrap her snugly in it. "The best thing to do now is to go back to sleep," he told her, smiling even though she couldn't see it in the dark. "That way you won't make any noise."

He couldn't see his daughter, but he could hear her snuggling deeper into the blanket as he expected. He was about to leave the cellar again in search of his wife, but she met him at the door. He quickly ushered her in before shutting the heavy cellar door with a definite thud.

Feeling his way around carefully in the dark, he settled himself beside the sleeping form of Layla, his back against the wall. His wife sat on the other side of their daughter and wrapped another layer of blankets around the three of them so they would all be warm.

Although he strained his ears, he could no longer hear the horses or their riders, and he hoped his meant that they had gone elsewhere. Not that he wished their presence on any other innocent Iberian family, as much as they hated him. The raiders came every now and then to flush out any Iberians, and most of them learned to keep themselves hidden after the first time they came. Similarly, Iberians from outside the settlement caught any Moors who had the bad luck to be wandering on the outskirts when they came. It was normal for Layla's father, but not for Layla, for the last time they came, she was but a child of barely one who slept through the entire incident.

Layla stirred, startling him. "I don't want to play game anymore," she complained in her breathy voice. "I want to go back." Her voice carried an edge of discomfort, and the slightest beginnings of hysteria.

Layla's mother wrapped her daughter in her arms. "I'm sorry, love, we can't go back yet," she cooed soothingly. "Try to sleep, alright?"

"I don't want!" Layla wailed, and she sounded dangerously close to tears. She was also getting progressively louder, which was another reason to worry.

Her father felt in the dark for her face, and patted her cheeks gently. "Now now, this doesn't sound like my brave Layla. Where has she gone?" he asked teasingly.

Layla's voice went quiet, but in the silence that followed her laboured breathing could be heard.

"Do you want to hear a story?" her father continued. Layla made no response, but after a moment he felt her nod vigorously.

"Alright then, a long long time ago," he began.

"I want new story," Layla interrupted demandingly.

Her father couldn't help smiling in amusement. "I haven't told you this one before. A long time ago, God gave a wise sage a blue stone, in order to seal a demon of fire. The demon fought long hard, but lost. In the end, he was sealed in the blue stone. The sage then hid the stone so that no one could ever free the demon. Till today, the whereabouts of the stone is still unknown."

He had expected Layla to cheer, or say that she liked the story, but what she said was completely contrary to his expectations. "Demon is sad," she said. "What did demon do wrong?"

His Layla had taken him by surprise, but he had an answer anyway. "Maybe he killed a lot of people, or threatened them." Although, he wanted to add, people do the same things too.

"Demon sad," Layla repeated, and he felt her shift until she was snuggled tight between both her parents.

"Maybe one day he'll be free again," her father said comfortingly, and stroked her hair gently. "Maybe he'll be saved someday."

There was no reply from his Layla. She had fallen asleep despite the discomfort of the cellar.

"I've heard this story before," whispered Layla's mother. "My mother told it to me when I was younger."

"I see." Despite the hate that existed between the two religions, there were many things they had in common. It was a pity that they couldn't see it.

In the small room, Layla slept on, not knowing that outside her little circle of peace, there were others who were being beheaded, others who knew fear that the little girl did not.

A/N: And this wraps up the beginning of Before Cruel Eternity… Hehehe. Layla is so cute.

Anyway, 5 projects seems to be out of reach, but I will work hard! (cue Idoko entry here.) Since I've started this, I removed this choice from the poll and added some more that popped up for no reason. Yeah. Number of options is also upped to 3, because asking people to pick only 2 seems cruel.

Also, reviews and feedback on this are very much appreciated. Thanks!