"Look at them squirm, Claude." A pale blue eyed, blond haired noble sat at the head of the table. The butler standing slightly behind his chair and to the left cracked an invisible smirk. "Aloise, allow them a chance."

They watched silently as the guests conversed with each other, the men laughing and arguing boisterously and the woman staring each other down. It was clearly a ridiculous spectacle. "Why should I?"

"I haven't yet an answer." Claude answered swiftly and quietly, his lips seemingly not to move, with amusement.

Aloise and his butler sat watching the masses converse for a while longer with doubt clouding their eyes before the nineteen year old blond cleared his throat. Almost instantaneously the crowd hushed.

With a pleased smile, Aloise addressed the crowd. "I am glad you are here, all of you. I, King Aloise of Gardenia have asked you here today because you are the best within the ten nations; and only the best I will have to be the founding fathers to the new generation."

A few grins were exchanged, others beamed, but only one allowed his kings cool words to slip over him, his blue eyes bored. Claude honed in on the small boy with interest. "I've spotted the Phantomhive boy."

"Is the Devil with him?"

Claude's eyes roamed the room professionally, combing it for any supernatural butlers with extreme good looks and ruby eyes. "No."

"Will you join me? Will you help me usher in the new generation with open arms free of any magic?"

The table gave a roar of affirmation. Aloise smiled, Claude appeared a poster with the picture of a woman with black streaked sky blue hair and violet eyes with the words WANTED boldly red written just underneath. "Our first and foremost opponent ladies and gentlemen, is this woman. Gloria Skye. This woman is a witch, a powerful witch, wanted for the murder of the late King El of Gardenia. Find her, bring her to me alive, and the beginning to our Utopia shall be set in stone. Go!"

There was a flurry of dark cloaks before they left. In the melee, a blue haired, cerulean eyed boy smirked and saluted the King and his butler before turning away and disappearing in the storm of smoke colored cloth. Aloise smiled and interlaced his fingers, his almost boyish voice filled with glee. "So it's a race."

Claude glanced down at his charge and then at the place where the Phantomhive kid had been moments before. "So it would seem, Master."

Helena Terre, formally known as Gloria Skye slipped through the market place with the skill of a deft courtesan. Her feet bare, and with every move she made the bells at her ankles twinkled. Colorful skirts twirled around her legs flirtatiously, billowing with each step like individual petals. Her midriff was bare and her top was loose and a beautiful color of blue, like a piece of the sky had been broken off and turned liquid, spilling onto the soft silk. Her blond hair was up in a long pony tail, curly as it trailed down to mid-back. But her eyes, they were stunning, a unique violet color that for some reason put the mind at ease.

Well, usually those kohl rimmed orbs put one at ease but today they stunned. Her high cheekbones flushed a distinct pink and her eyes spat with anger. The way she moved was graceful, but jerky and rough and the bells twinkled like roiling thunder in response as she twisted her way through the crowd.

"Helena!" A voice jeered pleasantly from the stand she had been so angrily stomping towards.

Helena's eyes narrowed further. "Ruse." She stopped in front of the stand, picking up one of the knives he sold and pointed at him accusingly. "You scared them all away." She whispered.

Ruse raised a brow, not cowed a bit by the deadly woman in front of him. "And…?"

"And!" She spat, "you scared them all away!" The knife was at level with his jugular by the way she was swinging it around pointedly yet he didn't flinch. The Gypsy shrugged. "I don't see what's so wrong about that." He eyed the knife. "Helena put that down, before you hurt somebody, please."

The blond haired beauty stalked closer, the knife poised as his heart. She was like a leopard, and had the potential to be as deadly unquestionably. "They were my only means of keeping updated."

"You were their whore."

Helena regarded her friend for a moment, allowing the knife to slip from her fingers. She waited for the sound of the steel blade hitting the ground with a light 'thwap' before taking a step back. She closed her eyes and allowed her guise to slip, just a little bit. When she opened them again they were tapered and her blond hair held sky blue streaks. As easily as she permitted the guise to drop just a bit, she sealed it again. "I could stand across the street and kill you and nobody would be the wisest. I could be in another town, another country and I could kill you. I was their whore, but only because I permitted it. I am in control, they were my puppets. Understand, Ruse that I am your friend but I am also a very cautious woman and if you push me… your life will be of no penalty on my conscience."

Ruse stood stock still, non-responding to her threats. Helena awarded him a small smile. "We shall visit Rigton Town tonight and give them a show. I hear their horses are so beautiful, their revered as divine beings."

"It's hard to find such these days."

"Exactly." Helena turned, bells jingling softly. "I am sorry, Ruse."

"Think nothing of it."

Her head lowered for just a second before she regally left his stand, disappearing in the crowd from his watchful eyes.

Ciel sipped his tea, placing the cup onto its matching saucer carefully. Sebastian watched his young charge for a moment, before cheerfully placing a perfectly cut piece of cake in front of him. "This is—

"Cheesecake." Ciel muttered under his breath distractedly.

The handsome devil of a butler blinked, "Yes. It is."

"I know. Sebastian if you were an eighteen year old assassin and you had gone into hiding, where would you go?"

"Why young master, are you having trouble locating a trace of the little witch?"

Cerulean eyes narrowed and thin lips pursed. Sebastian chuckled, hiding a smirk behind a gloved hand.

"Are you teasing me, Sebastian?"

"Of course not, young master; however, the question you asked…" He refilled Ciel's tea cup.

"Yes?" Ciel implored, chin resting on interlaced hands.

"Would not have received the answer you wanted." The devil raised the tea pot, watching a drop of the brown liquid fall into the cup before placing it back on the cart. "So tell me Sebastian."

"Anything, if you ask the right question."

Ciel pushed away from his desk, briefly touching his eye patch. "I grow tired of these games, Sebastian."

"You haven't even finished your cake." His eyes flashed towards the dessert, with a careless gesture he walked out of the room.

Sebastian was left to clean up the little mess his young charge had left behind, but as always it went by fast and he didn't mind it at all. Instead his thoughts were stuck on the mystery the young lord had left behind. While Sebastian understood things faster and more efficiently than humans, and he understood them far more than they would ever understand themselves… sometimes the simple based beings surprised him. Like his young master, Ciel Phantomhive, why was this case so important to him? The queen surly hadn't given it, but he pursued the Gloria girl as if his life depended on it.

He rolled the cart into the kitchen and returned to the hallways where he walked in darkness except for the few torches lining the wall. Was it possible that Ciel had known the girl? Sebastian considered it for a moment; it could very well be it if she had been around during his childhood. But what would the Phantomhive family have to do with a powerful witch who at the time would've been at the age of twelve when the fire that killed Ciel's parents happened? There were a few possible reasons and they all looked quiet grim for his young master.

He turned the brass knob and the door swung open on well-oiled hinges, as they should be, to see Master Phantomhive caressing his night shirt with a distracted look on his face. Sebastian in a few fell strides was beside his master, softly sliding the night shirt out of small pale hands. "Put your arms up, young master."

Ciel blinked, automatically throwing his hands up before rolling his eyes. "I am pathetic, aren't I Sebastian? I can't even dress myself."

The butler allowed the soft cloth to slide from his fingers as it slipped down his charges body, hiding the brand that marked otherwise even ivory skin. Secretly, the devil loved that mark. It signified Ciel's hatred, agony, revenge everything that had brought them together. A smirk tugged full at his lips and his tongue darted out to lick at them; everything that had brought them together, them and that delicious soul. "The nineteenth century has many trappings, young lord, it's to no surprise and understandable."

He scoffed, replying in a bitter laced tone. "This is a night shirt, Sebastian."

"And you are an Earl. It is not necessary to know dressage when you are of noble blood."

Ciel made a noise in the back of his throat, making his disagreement known but leaving the discussion at rest. He climbed into his silk covered bed with its heavy comforter and feather stuffed pillows. "We nobles are just arrogant Sebastian; nobody cares for our titles, for our comforts when it really matters so why should we now, to keep order? We don't even have the knowledge of dressing ourselves."

"You make a fair point, young Earl, now sleep we have much to do tomorrow."

Sebastian plucked the eye patch from his charge's head, placing it on the bedside table. Ciel blinked, watching his butler. "Sebastian?"

"Yes?"

"If you were a powerful witch in hiding, where would you go?"

The butler turned away, collecting the Earl's day clothes and folding them over his arm. He opened the door, a flood of light catching the star marked eye that he so loved. He graced the young boy with a smirk. "Where all young ladies in dangerous trouble seem to end up." He left him with that, shutting the door ever so softly behind him.

Ciel lay down, bringing the coverlets up to his neck. "So we'll be visiting that arse tomorrow."

Sebastian hearing his you masters comment chuckled, "Indeed."

A man ran down the street, pushing over a drunkard to get to his destination. He pressed his palm onto the alleyway wall, waiting diligently for the portal to open.

"Where do you think you're going with that?"

The man gasped, dragging his hand away from the wall and clutching the large envelope close to his body. "I-I-I—

"I didn't think so."

"Must reach… must reach…" The man closed his eyes firmly and allowed his bones to collapse, grow smaller, allow an unnatural beak to grow from his nose and feathers to sprout from everywhere on his body.

"Y-you're a bloody pigeon, if that's not the most pathetic excuse for a skin!" The man turned pigeon didn't stick around for the man to sober; he took to the sky, the envelope now bound by guise tied around his leg.

It was going to be a long fly before he reached the next portal.

My first fanfiction for this series! Huh, so what do ya think?

Dark Chocolate: 10-9

Awesome: 8-7

It was goodish: 6-5

Umm... sure: 4-3

Improvement needed, but I like the story line so far... : 2-1

What in the seven hells is this?: 0

Give me some advice people! I crave your reviews like a fish craves water! It's necessity!

Have I convinced you to review?

Ah, and yes the first chapter... is confusing to say the least.