A/N: Okay, so I'm really excited to post this, because it has been LITERALLY years in the making ( I started this nearly 2 years ago), and a lot's changed about this over the years. I probably restarted this about 5 or 6 times and I'm so happy that I'm finally posting this! There are just a couple things I should say about this story, though... for a start, because it's set on an alien planet, they don't measure time in months- basically what colour the moon is represents what month it is. If you ever want to know what exact month, the colours are based off of birthstones, so like if the moon is blue it's december (because of the topaz). Also, they refer to days as nights, since on Transylvania it's eternal night and stuff so ye... just a bit of a background so y'all don't get confused .. I hope you all enjoy! xx Beth

Chapter 1

Magenta Vitus had been born on a simple, gloomy night. When she was born, the moon was full, and glowing a vibrant ruby, while a rare Transylvanian thunderstorm boomed angrily in the sky.

Riff Raff, her older brother who was precisely four years her senior, had remembered being sitting in his bedroom. It was very hard to concentrate on doing so when he had to block out both the sounds of the ghastly thunderstorm, and the sound of the voice in his head, booming concerns over this new baby. She had just been born not 10 minutes ago, and he expected to be called in to meet her any minute now.

Hastily, he gave up on his reading attempts, too lost in thought to even properly process sentences in the book. Riff didn't want a sister, nor did he believe that he needed one. He would much prefer the solitary, and it was because of this that he decided he hated the child. But, however, he was incredibly thankful that Transylvanian children were very advanced. Most could talk by the time they were 1, walk by the time they were 8 months and, the one Riff was most thankful for, there was less crying. This ultimately meant that Riff didn't really have to worry about looking after her for too long.

Just at this thought, the baby had begun wailing at the top of her lungs, probably because of the roars of thunder which rattled the entire house. Riff sighed, and buried his head into the pillow. A new sound to block out.

Soon enough, there was a knock on the door. Riff's father stepped into the room without his son's approval. What's the bother for knocking, then? Riff wondered.

"Would you like to come and meet your sister?" he asked, grinning from ear to ear. Sadly for Riff, this question could only be replied to with a 'yes'. A dismal one was delivered from Riff's part.

He followed his father into his bedroom, tentatively dawdling behind him as they approached the bed.

"Here she is" his mother said proudly.

Riff looked down at the newborn. She was still crying, but when her large eyes met his, she stopped and stared at him, transfixed. She let out a small coo, and reached out her arm. Riff took a small step back.

"What's her name?" he asked, staring down at the girl expressionlessly.

"She hasn't got one yet," his mother said, "We thought that you might like to name her?"

Riff nodded, although he didn't know why his parents thought that he would want to in the first place. He just didn't want to say no, as to not disappoint them. He continued to stare at the nameless child, deciding to name her after one of her features. Perhaps Emerald, he supposed, after the eyes she had inherited from her mother. Or Ivory, he thought, after the pale white of her clear skin. He noticed the rosy pink of her cheeks, and invented Rosie, but remembered a girl he didn't like with that name and shuddered. The one feature of significance which stood out above everything else was her tuft of bright red hair. Why, it was so bright, it could nearly be described as…

"Magenta" he decided.

"That's a beautiful name," his mother approved," Magenta," she repeated, staring down at the girl lovingly. His father nodded his head in approval.

"I chose it because her hair…it looks like that colour" he explained awkwardly.

"It does too, doesn't it?" his father remarked in agreement.

"Would you like to hold her?" his mother offered. Riff, unfortunately, could not say no to this either, as, even if he did say no, he would still have to hold the child at one point in his life, no matter how much he protested.

He held Magenta cautiously, as though she were glass, likely to break if he held too tightly. Her tiny, chubby right hand was enclosed around his big thumb, and Riff was in disbelief at how small she was. He never knew that anybody could ever be that small. But, the proof was staring up at him with her large dark green eyes, the corners of her mouth rising. Not even the booming thunder disturbed her anymore. She remained smiling adoringly at the person who was holding her, indifferent to the rain hammering down on the window. Riff never wanted the moment to end.

Magenta was already beautiful by the time she was 6 years old. She had long, curly ringlets of red hair, which had sadly lost its suggestion of being a bright pink. Her skin was pale and porcelain, contrasting with her beautifully coloured hair, and she had large, doe-like emerald eyes. She was beautiful, and she was hardly even 10. Could you imagine how beautiful she would be by the time she was an adult?

Riff had concluded that having a little sister wasn't so bad. Having someone else around the house while his parents were at work helped to fill the time more efficiently. He often told people that he wasn't fond on having her around, but it was clear to anyone that this was a lie. Magenta certainly never hid the fact that she adored her old brother. Everywhere he went, she would follow him, and he never let her leave his sight. They spent nearly the whole day together, often playing games or reading, or anything they could think of to help occupy their time. Their favourite thing to do was play pretend, particularly doctors and nurses. They would be in their room for hours, tending to their 'sick' stuffed toys. They had to use Riff's old toys that had been gathering dust at the bottom of a cardboard box, because Magenta was convinced that all of her stuffed toys were perfectly healthy.

This was only on days that Riff didn't have to go to school. Magenta often tried to convince him to stay at home, but he constantly stressed that school was important, and that he needed to go there. She didn't understand why, but he told her that she would, soon enough. Most adults told her this when she didn't understand something, and she didn't like it one bit. On the days when Riff was at school, she would be at home all by herself, since her parents were both at work. She never liked being at home alone, afraid of a burglar or a murderer invading the home, and there being no one there to protect her. Most of the time she invented hiding places around the house in case such a thing happened. But it never did. Every suspicious sound she heard, every creak in the floorboard, or what sounded like a footstep all turned out to be figments of her imagination.

When her mother grew ill, this changed. They would curl up in bed together, sharing conversations. Magenta preferred having another person at the house to speak with, even if it did mean that said person was incredibly sick and tired. She loved her mother, and enjoyed any excuse she had as to spending more time with her. She had to do quite a lot for her as well- prepare her meals (which were normally just sandwiches, as she couldn't cook very well), give her the daily medicine that she required, and make sure she was alright. This lasted for many months, and, despite what Magenta was told, she knew that her mother was dying. When someone was sick for such a long period of time, with hardly any sign of recovery, all reasons for hope deteriorated. Magenta was worried about what would happen when she went to school; when there was no one there to look after her mother. When she consulted her brother over the matter, he assured her that their mother was getting better, and didn't really need anyone to look after her. But, there was still disbelief hidden behind his eyes.

On the morning of her first day of school, Magenta gave her mother a massive hug, in some sort of strange fear of what was to come.

"Don't worry about me, baby," he mother assured, returning the hug and planting a kiss on her cheek," Have fun" she encouraged, as her daughter left the room.

"I will, mama" she replied, fiddling with the tips of her hair as she got to the hallway. She met her brother there, who handed her a bag. She strapped it around her shoulder and smiled at him.

"How do I look?" she did a little spin for him, sporting their school's uniform.

She wore a navy blue skirt well above her knees, with seamed fishnet stockings. A white, short sleeved shirt was loosely tucked inside the skirt, and a navy blue and teal striped tie hung slackly from her neck.

"You look lovely, Genta" he complimented, using the nickname he so often used for her.

"Thank you" she acknowledged, giving a small curtsy.

"Are you sure you won't need a jumper? It's could outside today" he warned.

"I have one in my bag if I need it" she assured.

"Okay," he wore a look on his face that suggested that she would definitely need it, "Are you ready to go?"

She nodded, butterflies floating uneasily in her stomach. He grinned comfortingly, and grabbed her hand.

"We're going now, mum" Riff called out.

"Okay. Bye, loves" she replied. Magenta could envision her mother's warm smile in her head.

"Bye Mum"

"Goodbye, Mama" Magenta called out.

And she nervously stepped outside into the cold. Magenta shivered and rubbed her hands together. Riff had been right-it was very cold. But a stubborn Magenta told herself to not put on the jumper which was in her backpack, to prove an odd point. It was dark outside, as always. The sapphire moon led their way, though, as they walked slowly along the footpath. This was one of the few times that Magenta had been outside the house in her lifetime, so she was goggling at her surroundings, her mouth gaping wide open.

"It's so beautiful" she remarked, her eyes lit up at the sights that encircled her. Riff Raff hummed to show his agreement, listening to the sounds of the tide dragging in and out of the shore on the beach they lived close to.

"Are you excited?" he asked, nudging her shoulder.

"No" she said plainly.

"Come on, Genta," he attempted to encourage her, "School's fun"

"I don't believe that" she disagreed, a look of qualm on her face.

"How do you know? You've never been before"

"You told me that school was important. Nothing important is ever fun" she mumbled glumly.

"That's not true" he protested.

"Name one thing that's both important and fun, then?" she challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"School" he said, with a light smirk. She sneered at him, and his smirk grew bigger.

"It's not that bad, Genta. I'm sure you'll do fine"

She nodded unconvincingly, gripping onto his hand even tighter.

"Could you show me where I need to go?" she asked, her nerves creeping up on her as they grew closer to the school gate.

"Of course I will" he agreed, squeezing her hand.

As they got closer to the school, Magenta was shocked over what it was like. It was much smaller than she had expected. Not to suggest that the school was ridiculously tiny, it just wasn't ridiculously large either. Magenta had expected the latter, with hordes of students in the courtyard. The hordes of students she was correct about. What looked like at least four hundred students were running mad around the school's entrance. This excluded the students who were in Magenta's year-brand new. Magenta took extra care in spotting those people, as she and her brother made their way through the sea of uniforms.

They managed to find Magenta's classroom quite easily, as this classroom had been Riff Raff's when he was her age. The siblings stopped outside the door, and Riff knelt down to meet his sister's eyes.

"Are you okay to go in by yourself?" he asked her, with a comforting smile. She nodded and returned the smile. Although she tried, the smile didn't quite manage to reach her eyes.

"Okay," he kissed her on the cheek, "Have fun, Genta. I love you"

"I love you too"

He attempted to stand up, but she wouldn't release his hand. Sensing her nervousness, he knelt back down again.

"Genta… you'll be fine. I bet you that all of the other people in your classroom are feeling exactly the same way as you are at the moment"

She sighed unconvincingly, her eyes not meeting his. She mumbled something incoherent, but Riff managed to make out one or two words.

"I'm sure you'll make friends, Genta, despite the fact that your voice is different" he assured. This was in referral to the insecurities she had about her voice- she couldn't pronounce most things properly, particularly her W's and T's, which made her sound foreign. She had an accent as though she were from another planet. When she had consulted her mother on the matter, she had told her that the cause of this was because she had been born prematurely. 'Prematurely' was a very large word that she did not know the definition of, but she still she nodded as though she understood it. Riff saw these insecurities as utterly ridiculous. He believed that that his little sister was perfect exactly the way that she was. No matter how many times he told her this, it still never seemed to persuade her.

"I suppose…" she sighed.

"That's my girl. Don't worry, Magenta, love. Everyone's nervous on their first day of school"

Now she was convinced. She let go of his hand.

"Okay" she smiled uneasily, but she was still determined to try and have a good time at school, despite her nerves.

"Now hurry up, or we'll both be late" he feigned anger, and she laughed softly. She gave her brother a hug, and entered the classroom, telling herself not to turn back. She never did.

When Magenta entered the classroom, there were small groups of children clustered in circles all around the room, playing with dolls and other such toys. Magenta immediately grew confused. I thought school was for learning, not playing…, she thought suspiciously. All the same, she gazed around for anyone she might like to sit with. She settled with a small band of children- three boys and two girls, not really talking, but absent-mindedly playing with the toys in front of them. A lump rose in her throat very quickly as she approached the group.

"Hello" she somehow managed to say. The group looked at her without a word, and stared at her as if they were judging her from her hair to her shoes.

"Hi!"

Magenta let out a silent sigh of relief when one of the girls answered her, and rather enthusiastically at that.

"I'm Aria. What's your name?" she continued.

"I'm Magenta" Magenta smiled in a friendly manner (or at least she tried to) at Aria. She seemed to smile back, her cobalt eyes glowing with radiance.

"This is Lovisa, Cadassi, Wren and Kasper" Aria told her the names of the other children, rather bossily, Magenta observed. Magenta smiled as if to say hello. They seemed to understand.

"What are you playing?" she asked.

"We're playing houses" Cadassi responded shortly. Magenta only nodded.

"May I join you?" she tried her best to be polite. Riff had told her that if she was friendly and polite that she would make friends in no time.

"Sure "Lovisa grinned warmly "Aria's getting tired of being both the mother and the daughter, anyway"

"Thank you" Magenta said, as Lovisa handed her one of the dolls.

"Your voice is funny" Aria remarked, quite abruptly. Magenta felt a twang of nervousness in her chest.

"I know it is" Magenta mumbled softly, trying to show in her body language that she was uncomfortable with the subject.

"Were you born here?" Kasper asked, unfortunately trying to keep the subject going.

"Yes"

"Then why is your voice like that?"

"I was born pre…prematir…prematurely" Magenta was rather proud of herself for remembering the word.

"What does that mean?" Lovisa cocked her head to the side.

"It means she was born too early, dummy" Wren snapped, insultingly. Magenta wasn't sure that she'd chosen the right group. On the bright side, she now knew what prematurely meant.

They're young. I'm sure I'll grow to like them as they mature, she thought, as though she wasn't the same age of them. She was in fact the same age as them, as far as she knew- 6 years old. She just believed that she was the most mature out of the group.

At that moment, the dolls were put away, and they were all ordered to choose a table to sit at. Then, Magenta confirmed with herself that school was, in fact, for learning.

Magenta was relieved that when she returned home, her mother was safe and sound in her bed. She sprinted into her parents' bedroom when she returned home with Riff, giving her a massive hug. She returned the hug gladly, excited to hear about her daughter's first day at school.

As Magenta spoke, she stared at her lovingly, however there was still sadness masked behind her eyes.

A few short months later, however, Magenta had returned home with Riff to find that her mother wasn't there at all, and she knew exactly why. Her father had sat both her and Riff down on the end of the bed, and explained, teary eyed, that their mother had died earlier that day. Riff had tight grip on his little sister's hand as he said this. He felt very bad for his father, for he and his mother had a strong love- something that was very rare in Transylvania.

"So, your auntie Sophia will be coming here to live with us to help me look after you, and support the both of you. You're both okay with that, aren't you?"

The siblings nodded, although they both hated their auntie Sophia. Magenta just wanted her mother.

That night, Magenta slept in Riff's bed, crying softly into her brother's chest. He cried as well, but not as much as she did. They hugged each other close, attempting to comfort one another. Neither of them slept that night.