whiteshade of blackness 'gaku may 19, 2006
Warning : AU, fantasi, drama, angst, romance, many terms of actual words, many nick-names or original names for alterations of the G-boys' names (hopefully not all of them), OCs, some OOC, magics, spells, talismans, spirits, magical abbilities/creatures, war, gore, Heero-abuse (couldn't help it, Saru LOVE him!), violent, and etc, etc ('couldn't name them more because Saru haven't got to those parts yet). Mature contents..? Huummm, 'guess not... just kisses, probably... haven't decided yet! XD
Disclaimer : G-boys NOT Saru's...story n concept, though...hehehh
Summary : a prussian eyed beast saved by a violet eyed lady, the One-Past began to unrolled with their Present lives. NOT a 'Beauty n the Beast' story..!
1 prussian
"...He really did those things...?" the blue haired Landlord asked the villagers with a toughtfull tone tinged with little curiousity. The few haggard men nodded their heads convulsively, though their eyes were wide, some with fear, some with anger, some with trepidation and shock. Their expressions are silently begging their Lord to understand their unbelievable story, and desperation for the Lord's protection, that they are not the bad people here, but the victims. Though, they knew even they would not have believed the stories they're relating now if they were not the first hands experienced them.
The Landlord rubbed his chin in a few silent moment. Scrutinizing the people in front of him on the court's floor, but mostly his eyes were trained to the little bundle dumped in front of them. His long forsaken soldier instinct pricked by something alarmingly strong and cold...dreadfully cold. He could have sworn he felt his breath fogging with frost air everytime he exhaled, but the sunshine striming down trough the tall windows aligning the stonewalls of the court-room belied that. The warm late spring wind blew idly with the scents of flowers from the garden outside, as if trying to dissipate the smell of dried blood and other unpleasantness wafted from the ragged little bundle, to no avail.
"...Really...?" the Lord asked mostly to himself.
"...Yes, milord..! That...BEAST..even bit one of the villager's hand off! ... He was just trying to feed the beast, milord..!" one of the villagers spoke fearfully, few of the others mumbled their affirmative.
"...Off?" the Lord scrunched his blue brows together. He didn't like the sound of that news.
"Yes, sire...! From..." the man stuttered and made a motion to show which part of the hand severed. His left hand moved frantically on his right arm, starting at the middle of the lower arm near the elbow.
The Landlord thinned his lips while his frown digged even deeper between his eyes. "Was he dead? How many casualties you said before?"
"No, milord. But poor young Heron is expecting his first child in a couple of months...with the condition he's in now, his young family would have difficulties to make a living...The young couples don't have any relatives other than his wife's ailing mother and two younger siblings whom still too young to support the family," a man in mid forties spoke up. Another younger man with fiery haircolor and looked like a mercenary cut the older man with clipped tone.
" Fourteen dead: four villagers, seven hunters, and three mercenaries. Not less than a dozen men wounded, including that young farmer who tried to feed it ..!" his hard eyes flicked to the olderman, clearly showing his disapproval. The villagers opposed him with thick air of dislike.
"...And all that done by a little wildling here...?" the Lord cut fast before any fight erupting. Noting that the man reffered the little bundle with 'it'.
"That THING is more than dangerous, sir! We would have slayed it if not for some weak-hearted villagers who think that it looked humanoid..!" the young mercenary spoke a bit too loud for the Lord's taste and so the Lord shifted his stare at him. The fiery youth shrunked a little under that powerfull stare and clamped his mouth shut.
"So..! You people hunted the wildling down for days.., after some casualties of a few hunters you brought a few villagers and hired some mercenaries to bring the wildling down. And after some bloody feuds, you managed to capture the little wildling over there but with no small amount of loss.." the Lord recited the story they've offerred him before.
"...And what did the wildling do before some of you decided to hunt him down, in the first place?"
"..T...tresspassing personal vicinities, Sire..!" another villager spoke up.
"Anything missing..?" the Lord pointed.
"No, Sire... but the beast frightened some of us who saw it.."
"Did the wildling harmed them? Any of them... or made an act like he would make any harm on either of them or their living possessions..?" the Lord pointed more.
"..It's... the feral... wild things that .. that beast..." the villager stuttered in fear, either fear of the Lord's oncoming judgement or of the beast, or maybe both.
"Milord, the fact is that that-THING had killed even some experienced mercenaries during the.."
"And even some experienced mercenaries failed to recognize that that-Thing is just a little boy..?" the Lord cut the stubborn mercenary's words before he couldn't maintain his anger at them anymore. Some stubborn mercenaries and hunters who think that they have the right to slay anything feral and make some fortune out of them, and some worrysome villagers that are paranoid enough to hack anything unusual from their daily acquaintances...
"...Milord...?" the villagers uttered in question, while the mercenaries shut their mouths in dignified frowns.
"From what I've heard of your report, that kid was just defending himself from attackers, and some of them just forced him to take lethal actions to keep himself alive..." The Landlord shifted his eyes to the little bundle of chains and steel-wires, looking like a ragged bloody cocoon with large feral dead-eyes darkened with possibly a lot of pains other than assessment of danger around his limp immobile small body. The dog-mask on his face kept him unable to open his mouth much less to speak, he might even have breathing difficulty since they secured the iron-halfface of the dog-mask on, it was too big for his small face that the little holes on it didn't give much ventilation like it should. The harness was biting his face skin the Lord empathetically saw them bruising. And from the story he'd just heard, they kept him more than two weeks in that condition, unfed, and beaten, before they tought they'd bring the BEAST to his court. The dog-mask was usualy for death sentenced-prisoners or crazed/dangerous criminals or prisoner-of-war from long ago. The Landlord had a very disdainful thought of the use of those things, he'd even surprised that the thing still exist on his land. He glowered at the men in front of him.
Suddenly the right courtdoor flung open and a little girl about 12 with smoky light-blue long hair burst in with laughter. Her words of "Papa look what Deia made for..." cut short when she noticed the people in front of the court. With a small 'Oh' of acknowledgment she then curtsied to them in a ladylike manner.
There's a squeal of laughter followed behind her and a younger little girl with silvery light-purple hair done in a braid ran in and stopped on the spot when her eyes saw the ragged bundle on the floor. Her excessive large violet eyes widen at the sight, a small beautiful gasp was heard; and the whole court room held their breaths with her.
The flowery scent wind blew firmer with her entrance, at the moment it was the only thing seemed alive in the white-stoneroom. She blinked once never shifting her stare at the bundle, as if waking from a trance the others staring at her blinked too and resumed living. The little girl cocked her head to the side like a bird watching something with interest, then to other side measuring something only she could see. Her face had softened to a neutral expression, and her beautiful violet eyes twinkling with comprehension.
The Lord who kept his eyes at her from first sight like the others made a little exasperated noise and slapped his left hand to his forehead.
"...Lyea...!"
"I'm sorry, Papa dear. I tought it has nothing to do with this ordeal in your court..." the older girl spoke softly with a knowing smile, lifting a collar of prussian velvet ribbon and gemstones of the same hues in her hand, while her eyes kept trained to her younger sister.
"By the way, blue IS your hair color, Papa. I tought she made it as a joke to you..." Lyea flicked her eyes at her father who looked back at her with an eyebrow lifted.
"...A collar for me...? In that kind of fashion sense..." he spoke slowly to his wisened daughter who chuckled softly. Lady Lyea of The White Land of Archantra was known as a fair and wise little girl even from her early age of eight, which brought a mountain of proudness to the Lord. His younger daughter, Deia, was famous for her sunny and cheerfulness. Always a cynosure everywhere she went, The Light of Archantra, people called her. They're the Lord's treasures even more important than anything in the whole world, even from the world itself. Subtly, the Lord thanked his daughters for their sudden appearances in the heating courtroom. The stubborn and fearful people in front of him seemed to pause in the sudden brightness of his younger daughter. Deia has that kind of effect on everyone, in fact not just everyone but everything, the Fairs of spirits, the Voids of shadows, the animals, even the plants seemed to be drawn to her. Even the Spells! Which brought some waryness from the Lord... The drawn-thing is mutual!
"...Is that prussian color...?" came the soft melodious voice.
The Lord groaned low... Oh, here she goes..!
Deia glided to the front of the villagers and mercenary with such grace that people think she was floating on air, not stone floor. Even the trained mercenaries couldn't hear the sounds of her footsteps approaching.
She squated in front of the ragged bundle, much to the waryness of some fearful villagers, her white dress pooled around her slim body, with eyes never leaving the color that caught her interest from the first sight she casted on the courtroom.
"...It IS..." she breathed with delightful wonderment, her small white-hands brushed the bangs covering the eyes of the small dirty face, they were caked with blood and mud and others things that they felt crisp like dry-roots.
"MY Prussian..., yes, Father...?" she asked the Lord with a smile of confidance and eyes lighted with joy and possessiveness. That's her famous charm, even though she's dictating you, you wouldn't feel dictated and would have the feeling to give her the world instead.
"Deia..., you are aware that it's not a chimera..." the Lord spoke carefully, tough he knew it's a lost fight even before it began.
"...I'll take good care of it, clean it, heal it, feed it, train it that you have nothing to worry about, no one's going to recognize it as a Wild after my treatment, and I'll take full responsibility for everything it cause of any loss or ruckus, which you needn't to worry about, because it won't do anything disdainful to your concerns or anything that will bring any harm to anyone or anything, and it'll be the most gorgeous thing your eyes cast upon that you'd want to hug it, and squish it, and hope you could have it in your room just for eye-candy and dream of, and for security from any bad Fairs or Voids or Spells, it can even guard me from nightmares, I'll teach it carefully and toroughly you wouldn't have even its shadow to complain of..."
The Lord raised his right hand to silence her daughter's avalanche of words, despite the pleasantness that voice brought to your hearts upon hearing it, she usualy never stopped speaking before she gets what she wants. Even though the people in the court seemed to think it was cute of her clearly with their softened faces and small smiles, but the wrong kind of people might think of it as unrespectful and might take some wrong actions towards his spirited young daughter of age 10. And that's something he tried to ingrain to his Deia's mind for years, but along with her growth she just grew the more abillity to take a more longlasting breath to say longer rains of words. It didn't help any that she's a very impulsive persistent little angel that everyone yields to even before they think to argue to her wants, that's including himself of course.
"...He'd killed some people, Deia!"
"Good! That means it knows how to fight and can protect me from possible dangers..!" her even tone with neutral smile took the stings out of that statement; at least noone flinched, noted the Lord.
"Father, you know Crimson died of illness, and Black died taking the burnt of a Spell's wrath for me, and I had to set Viridian free because she couldn't survive the Air in here and..." the angelic face drooped with sadness, and people think that the wind blew soft whispers of symphaty around the stone room.
The Lord let out a deep sigh "That Wild is in bad condition to begin with..." and casted his eyes back at the ragged bundle.
The little girl faced back to the bundle slowly, as if not wanting to scare the ragged and tornt body cocooned by the heavy chains and steel-wires.
"Yes... It is..." she breathed with empathy. Her hands clasped the buckles of the harness on the back of the wild's head, and the steels gave a silent popping sound as they broke itselves to tiny pieces, and the harnesses loosened dramatically. The soft hands then took the dog-mask off of the abused face ever so tenderly. Some gasps of disapproval and fear came from the villagers as she stroked the discolored skin under the iron-halfface and harness's bruise prints. The large dead-eyes the color of deep prussian color bored at her eyes with unfearful wildness. She gazed back with heartful tenderness and a sad beautiful smile.
"...I'll set you right in notime... don't worry..." she said in deep whisper only meant for the Wild to hear. And loosing herself in contentment of softly stroking the abused dirty face in her hands.
"...Papa, dear. I'm sure you could find a kind heart in you to compensate these brave men for their courages of giving a present to my beloved sister, yes?" Lyea asked in a sweet tone '..despite how bad they've mistreated him...' she added to herself.
The Lord gave her a level look. After a few moment, he sighed in defeat.
"Deia, Honey, you could asked Odin for help..."
"YES!" the impulsive girl sprang to her feet instanly "Thankyou, Father, I won't regret it..!"
"Old-diiiiiiiiiinn...!" in a flash of white dress, she's gone from the stone room.
"It's 'Odin', Honey..." the Lord corrected automatically, "...What ..?" if he hadn't heard it wrong, she said 'I' not 'you'...
"It's a promise to herself that she will do her best to keep her words, Papa dear." Lyea interjected with a mediator smile. The Lord lifted his blue brows at her, and she smiled a bigger smile for reassurance.
The men looking at him with large eyes of expectance. After clearing his throat, the Landlord nodded, and promised them and others that are killed or wounded would be compensated quite an amount. But, he wouldn't let this mistreatment of other livingthing aside, either. Since the wildling wasn't dead –yet!-, he won't take a hard judgement on them right now. He made sure everyone related to this ordeal be recorded, and IF the wildling dies of the injuries and starvation they inflicted on him, they'd be punished then. He also assured them that he had the Charms in the Castile(1) who know all their actions and misdeeds to the wildling that would be revealed with or without their consents, so no use of lying or hiding by then.
"Be thankful to my daughters, Lyea here who helped you as mediator to my judgement.." the Lord frown, and Lyea just smiled and shake her head brushing off the gratitude her father pointed at her, "..and to Deia who saved you from punishments, as a matter of facts.. your wellbeing in the future relating to the wildling will be in her hands. If the wildling dies while she tries to mend him, it'll upset her greatly. You know how bad I'd feel if anything or anyone upsets any of my daughters..!" the Lord narrowed his eyes threateningly and a few villagers bowed their heads in fear and the mercenaries casted their gazes to the floor.
The squeal of joy rang trough the door again, and a bundle of angelic blurry-white ran to each of the men and hugged them at the waist exlaiming 'thank you' repeatedly. The men just gaped at the suddenness of it all, and as suddenly the joyful cheerfulness on her face replaced by solemn but stern calmness. Staring at each men's eyes for a few breathless moments.
"But I would like if none of the hard treatments to the Wilds on your part to continue anymore then what's been done today, please. If you happens to have difficulties with any of them, please just ask for the Charms's help, I'm sure they wouldn't have made any casualties and/or unpleasentness to both sides of yours and the Wilds as much as they could." Deia spoke in a level tone much older than her age.
"...The last chimera I tried to save had been abused so badly it died in my hands...!" she frowned at the memory of Crimson, her tone changed to a stony voice. Her shadow casted on the white-stone floor darkened slightly, and the wind stilled, and they swear they felt like standing on icefield that freezing their feet to the floor.
"But I'm sure we have an understanding on the matter, yes...?" she flashed them the most bright smile, and suddenly the freezing they felt melted to a warm late spring wind with flower scents from the garden outside. The stunned men nodded their heads somewhat dazedly and mumbled their agreements.
Deia nodded her acceptance and gave them a curtsey to dismiss them. The Lord gave them permission to leave the courtroom after that.
A moment later, a white haired knight came strolling in with an air of strength and compose. He nodded his respect to the Lord and Lyea before stopping his gaze at Deia who bounced frantically looking at her charge on the floor. "Old-din, hurry! He's dying..!"
A flash of recognition came to his eyes when he looked at the prussian eyes and battered face, along came wearyness and his soldier instinct screamed in alert, and in a second it's gone squelched by years of hardened disciplines.
He crouched to fast-examine the little ragged bundle. The skin felt so cold under his hand you might think it's already dead if not for the large dead-eyes assessing his every movement of his and the room surrounding them all at once. Odin sigh deeply and carefully lifted the bundle as gentle as he could, setting the dirty small head secured against his strong chest. He noted the dried blood had glued the kid's mouth shut, although he sure it wasn't all his own blood. The prussian eyes drooped a little, and Odin tried a small smile of assurance.
"...To my chamber..! I'll go fetch How-ward...!" Deia ran through the door again "How-WAAAAARRD...!" she called on the top of her lungs while running trough the corridors. And the Lord winced, while Lyea snorted softly with a patient smile and followed Odin to her younger sister's chamber to help. As always, Deia would be overdosed by her own energy to keep calm, much else to aid the necessary actions. She's such a comet-child, burning with energy in action..!
"...It's Howard, sister dearest..!" she mumbled to herself, and Odin chuckled softly at her side.
Once the ragged bundle being set on a cot in the corner of Deia's hexagonal-chamber, Lyea tried to clean the battered face as much as she could with a cloth and warm water, waiting patiently for her sister to burst trough the doors with burning energies. She gave kind smiles to him every once in while, noting that the exhausted large dead-eyes drooped more after feeling the security around him, despite the chains and steel-wires still cocooned his abused body. But he's already passed the painfull phase now, his strained weak breaths hitched to take much needed oxigent to his system.
"Have patience, please... Deia will free you soon, once Howard examine your body's compatibility with her Harmony; she's still too young to do that by herself now. If she accidentally killed you while trying to free you, she'd feel devastated and will blame herself... and we don't want that to happen, yes ..?" Lyea spoke softly with heartful tenderness. The prussian eyes grayed a little...
The Lanlord of the White Land of Archantra took Odin to the corner of the far crossing corridors at the outside of his younger daughter's chamber, to have a quiet talk of the situation, while he didn't want his said daughter to suddenly came across them in the conversation he wanted to hold with his trusted general and childhood friend.
"...Who is he...?" the Lord asked is a hushed voice. Odin lifted an eyebrow in question.
"I know recognition when I saw one, Odin! Now, spill...!" he frowned his blue brows in reaction.
"I never saw him before, Sire," Odin frown back his bleak-white brows. The Lord gave him a level look. After a few breaths, he asked solemnly
"...Outsider? ..an OWL, maybe...?" Out-World Out-Law (OWL) were the fugitive colonies guerrilla-ing in the undergrounds on the Wild-lands outside the many Lorded-lands. His secluded White Land of Archantra was one of the most isolated land on the Major-Soil, that most tresspassers of the not-natives would avoid to enter. Mostly because of the unique-athmosphere inside the Stratus of the White Land of Archantra that is poisonous to most living things that weren't born inside, thus made a necessary usage of certain Spell to protect them from the Air. But a few races of outsiders have the ability to survive in there, by natural immune-systems, or magical things such as talismans or chants or Spells, or other things they specifically possessed. The OWLs were infamous by their distinctful strength and some mysterious abilities they used to prey on others. That's why the villagers were so fearful and paranoid of the Wilds, since the villagers lived on the outer circle of the land near the boundaries to the Forest that circling The White Land of Archantra. The Wilds, were the living beings mostly halve-creatures such as chimeras which taking nomadic habitats somewhere in the forest area and the outside of the land and Stratus.
Odin looked thoughtful but hesitant at the same time. He searched his Lord's eyes, finding his lifetime friend in them, he nodded. "...I think he's an outsider, but OWL or not, I'm not sure... Once he's cleaned and look better I might find more resemblance to any race I know.."
The Lord nodded minutely in apprehension, eyes trained on a tiny crack on the wall across him. "...North..?" His voice barely a whisper, but Odin heard him nonetheless.
"Might be.."
"Natives or nomads?"
"Dark hair could mean both, though the natives of the North have more darker hues, soil-colored hues are not uncommon of them nowadays..." Odin reply softly
"...But?" the Lord prompted
"But..." Odin exhaled a deep sigh trough his nose, "..Bright eye-colors like his usually come with a package!" The natives of Archantra usually have light eye colors, ranging from light-hues of blue to green or lighter colors of the owner's hair-colors to grey or smoky-white, the Charms usually have distinctive eyes-color of pearly-white or mirrory-white that people who's not familiar with them might think that they were blind.
The Lord nodded his agreement to that opinion, "He gave me the chills in the courtroom, freezing cold that even my Spell couldn't able to shield of..." That's the other reason why the villagers freaked out of the wildling.
"I felt it too, Sire...Not stronger than Lady Deia's, but different!" he shifted his gaze to where his Lord's land on too, the tiny crack on the far wall. "If he's a nomad on his own, then there's strong possibility he's a deserter of the OWLs..."
The Lord's blue brows rose almost to his blue hairlines, "...Escapee..!" he asked in surprise
"Could be abandoned. From what I learned of the OWLs, they have a very strong custom to kill the children of their preyed natives..."
Now, 'preyed' could mean anything in a wide range... "Preyed.. as in abducted and..." The Lord trailed off his words on purpose.
"Yes. Some OWL colonies reported to have the habits of taking the maiden-preys with them...But the offsprings of the maidens, even born in their colonies, are usually..." Odin frown in disgust, he's not most people would call a paternal man, but he scorned the idea of killing such small infants unable to defend themselves, or abusing women.
"...So, he could be half-OWL! ...Or not ...!" the Lord shrugged in an unlordy manner, "Let's not jumping on our own conclusions, and just take things slowly as they presented themselves, shall we?"
Odin smiled back at the boyish-smile his Lord gave him, and nodded. When they were children, the Lord always treated him like a big brother, and Odin mutually loved him like a little brother. Sometimes his Lord showed him that fragment of the little brother he dearly loved.
...A little girl's shrieks of horror jumped them to a run to Deia's chamber in a haste.
There on floor, lied the cocooned bundle of battered boy drenched with fresh blood coming from the boy's mouth and nose. Deia was at his side sat on a heap of hysterical form being embraced by her elder sister trying to calm her down. Her front of white dress was spattered with blood, and tears flooding from her eyes.
"What happened!" the Lord kneeled in front of his daughters, in hope to distract his hysterical Deia from the scene of the bleeding and unconscious boy.
"...Hhhow... Howh.." the smaller girl stuttered breathlessly between choked gasps. Lyea shushing her softly putting her lips to her right temple.
"Howard couldn't make it here right away, and Deia thought to try to relief some pain he's obviously in.." Lyea spoke silently.
"...I waa... I.. I was ... j...was j-just... waa..nt to... too..." The Lord hugged her quaking small body comfortingly
"Shhhhh... It's okay. It's not your fault... He's going to be alright... He's strong. It's okay..." subtly the Lord hoped what he's saying is true, because he's not sure himself by his sweet words, wishing hard for them to be true. His Spell only works for protections and not mending nor healing.
Odin crouched above the ragged bundle, trying to assess the injuries of the unconscious boy who took deeper ragged breaths now. To his relief, the blood had ceased gushing from his mouth and nose. Deia must have pressed out the blood pooled in his throat behind the dried blood that glued the boy's mouth, and freed his windpipe to have better performance... at least that's what Odin hoped had happened, not some bleeding of internal injuries worsen.
Deia calmed down to silent sobs in her father's and sister's embrace, though her eyes unfocus as if trying to see trough his father's chest to her Prussian's prone body.
Lyea whispered softly next to her right ear over and over..
"...don't cry..., Dearest... don't cry..." repeatedly, while Deia's lips seemed to try to follow the subtle words only meant for her, but no sound came out.
"...Dearest, don't cry... shhhh... Boys don't cry..." (2) Lyea's last words calmed the sobbing small body dramatically...
Note:
(1) Castile... nothing to do with the Kingdom of Castile in Spain, just the name of the castle they lived in. Saru made it like the way it's sounded in saru's language 'kastil' only with different spelling
(2) Alright...may be most of you had guessed why Lyea said it, and the reason why she said it to Deia... No?
Anyway, Saru couldn't find the space to describe it, but Lyea's hair is waist-long and styled in a single spiral-weave on her rightside (since she was left-handed), with a few white velvet-ribbon weaved in it.
While Deia's hair set in a hip-long braid on her leftside, weaved with black velvet-ribbons.
Almost everything in Archantra is white including the clotches of the citizens too, since the unique land could only produce white things of natural resources, i.e: trees, weeds, plants, rocks, sands, animals, and other things. Contrastly, the people's hair colors are evolved to unusual hair-colors, such as blue, green, purple, pearly-white, etc; and nomore usual colors such as blond, brunet/brown, or black.
It will be explained more with the story's progress.