Ok, here is my new story, which is actually the revised story of Seductive Song. I'm sure that this version is a whole lot better and so will be a more enjoyable read. I can't say how often this will be updated, since I also have Of Death and Crows and Memories of Regret to think of, but I will try to remember to give this story attention to.
This will only be said once. I do not own YYH. I only own the OCs and the plot. Steal them at your peril.
In downtown London on the corner of Jefferson and Victoria sat a modest three story house. In looks, it was average; made with bricks, ivy crawling up one side. There was a small yard in the front with a well manicured path and garden surrounded by a small, white picket fence. To all outside appearances, it was the home of a wealthy gentleman.
However, this humble abode had its darker side.
This house was owned by one Henry J. Markinson III and he had dealings with Makai, dabbling in the slave trade. Every day, groups of men could be seen entering Mr. Markinson's house, sometimes leaving with a cloaked woman or two among them. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to most people. Mr. Markinson was a respectable man who owned a profitable clothing business in the middle of town.
But at the moment, Mr. Markinson wouldn't have seemed so respectable in the eyes of London's citizens. He was yelling at one of the women he owned for something she had done only minutes before. It seemed she had bitten one of Mr. Markinson's associates, and the man hadn't taken too kindly to that.
"Miss Flare, need I remind you that I own you? Everything you have comes from me. You live now because of me. Cross me again and you'll see just how much I can take away," he said, his pleasant voice at odds with his cold brown eyes that struck the young woman's soul. However, she didn't bow down before his rage. She simply kept her head held high.
After directing one more glare Flare's way, he motioned for his friend to go out into the hall. As he left, Mr. Markinson spoke with the guard that was outside Flare's door. "She is not to see any of her friends today." After that, he slammed the woman's door, leaving her to her own thoughts.
With a sigh, Flare slid off the bed and to the floor, crawling over to her vanity. Using her arms, she levered herself into the seat and grabbed her brush, pulling it through her long red hair. It always calmed her, but at the moment it wasn't helping. It upset her that she wouldn't be able to see any of the other women who lived here. She supposed she'd have to try to sneak over later in the night. The guards never stayed then. And why should they? There was no chance any of the girls would try to run away, not the ones who were permanently here, anyway. Every girl here that Henry Markinson decided to keep lost their lower legs. Flare's own ended just below her knees. The guards were only kept around in the daytime to protect the girls from over-zealous customers and to carry them around when they needed to go somewhere.
Flare had grown used to it. She'd been here for ten years already, having been taken from her family in Makai at the tender age of ten. She had been quite a prize, being the daughter of a strong fire demon and the Goddess of Dreams. She had turned out to be a disappointment, however. She seemed to be a very weak fire demoness. All of her parents' powers had gone to her older brother, who had risen up to become the God of Fire.
She had never met this brother of hers. Mr. Markinson kept his house surrounded by a strong barrier so that her brother could never sense where she was. If he knew, he would have visited all his rage on Henry J. Markinson III for what the man had done to Flare.
The woman was pulled from her thoughts as her door was thrown open, slamming against the wall with an echoing bang. Golden eyes narrowed, the demoness looked over to see one of Henry's flunkies. The man stalked her way, lust clearly burning in his eyes. "Henry gave me the go ahead. And he promised you'd play nice. So let ol' Jerry place a wet one on ya." The man wrapped the struggling woman in a clinging embrace and pressed his lips to Flare's. But the woman was having none of this. She had decided that ten years was enough and she was fed up. She parted her lips seemingly in invitation, and predictably Jerry fell for it. As soon as he did, Flare bit down. Hard. Screaming in pain, Jerry ripped himself away from her, Flare's fangs leaving long gouges in his tongue. "Bitch!" he yelled, backhanding her hard enough to send her sprawling from her chair and to the floor. The only thing he got from her was a bloody smile. Growling curses under his breath, Jerry left, obviously to go tell Henry what had happened.
The sound beating Flare had received afterward seemed worth it to her.
Two weeks after the incident with Jerry, Flare had been seeing less and less men. Rumors had been circulating, telling of what a She-Devil she was. No man was safe around her, it was said. So, when men came to satisfy their needs at Mr. Markinson's home, they made sure to avoid Flare. Because of the decrease in business, Henry moved Flare to a smaller room on the second floor. If she wasn't bringing in as much business, he saw no need to continue to spoil her. Flare liked this arrangement. She didn't have to crawl so much to get around in her room.
Used to going days without seeing men, Flare was surprised at a soft knock on her door. Shortly after, a man she had never seen before let himself in. His green eyes wandered around the room before finally resting on her. Flare was surprised to see that they held no lust, only wariness. And as it should be, she told herself. She was the 'She-Devil' wasn't she?
But she was surprised that he made no advances. Instead, he reached into a pocket in his coat to pull out a communicator of sorts. He flipped it open and pressed a few buttons. "Ok, I'm in her room. I'll keep her safe." He then quickly put it away before looking back to Flare. "Just stay put and you'll be fine. Henry Markinson has finally come to the attention of Prince Koenma. You'll be reunited with your family shortly." Once that was said, he positioned himself at the door, watchful and prepared.
Flare allowed hope to bud, which soon blossomed as she began to hear panicked yells. Mr. Markinson was really being shut down. She was to go home! Biting her lip, she listened to the growing chaos outside of her room. It seemed to go on for a least an hour before the place grew quiet. Taking this as a sign, the unnamed man walked over to Flare and picked her up, carrying her out into the hall. As they headed for the exit, Flare noticed that many of the other women were being carried out by other men. She was happy to know that the others were safe.
As they left the house, Flare saw it was dark outside. It was maybe 9 o'clock, so most people were home. That meant less chance of having a witness, she supposed. As she was carried away, she got to see the extremely satisfying sight of Henry J. Markinson being led away in Rekai handcuffs.
Life seemed to be taking a turn for the better.
The man transported Flare to the British Rekai headquarters where she was given into the care of an older woman who bathed her and clothed her, readying her to meet the commander of the British Rekai forces. The same man who had taken her from the house arrived to carry her to the meeting. Now he was dressed in his proper uniform, numerous medals adorning it. On the walk there, Flare discovered his name was Jacob and that he was a psychic for Rekai. He had been sent to keep her from harm when Rekai went to shut Markinson down.
All too soon the walk ended at a pair of doors. Jacob knocked on them before walking in. He deposited Flare on a comfortably padded seat then walked to stand beside the door, posture straight. Without the officer to distract her, Flare could only focus her golden eyes on the commander. He sat behind an orderly desk, hands steepled and elbows resting on the desk's stop. His deep grey eyes were focused on Flare, weighing and considering. The young demoness fidgeted, not liking the feeling of being judged.
"First name, Seraphine, meaning burning fire; middle name, Dramani, meaning dreamer; last name, no information on record; sometimes known as Flare, as nicknamed by her father."
Flare's nails dug into the padding of the chair, creating punctures in the material. When she had first been brought here, she certainly hadn't expected the man before her to begin by first speaking of her name. It was strange to hear it after so long, especially when spoken by this stranger. She closed her eyes, taking in a shaky breath before once again looking up at the still unnamed man. She found that his expression had softened slightly and that his presence wasn't so threatening.
"My name is Svetlan Rhodosky," he said, and it was then that Flare noticed his accent. She didn't know what it was, however, since she hadn't been outside of Markinson's house, but it was nothing like the English accent she was used to. "I am sorry we could not close down Markinson's operations sooner. But at least you are here now. Prince Koenma has managed to contact your mother and brother, so the two should be here shortly to return you to where you belong."
Flare nodded, chewing on her lip. She didn't know her mother or brother very well. She had mostly been raised by her father, since her mother rarely had time to deal with a child. Her brother had always been absent, being nearly 50 years her senior. "What about my father? Isn't he coming too?" she asked, frowning.
Svetlan shook his head, grey eyes showing sympathy while his face remained like a stone. "No, I'm afraid he's been dead for six years."
This was a complete shock to Flare. Her father, dead? But he had been so strong! How could he be dead? She would have to find out. No, she must find out! Maybe her mother would know. Heartened slightly by this, she stilled her fidgeting as she waited with the commander in silence. After maybe half an hour, Flare heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. Her breath hitched as her heartbeat increased. Was that them? Where they here now? It felt as is she had been waiting for so long.
She turned to look at the door. It slowly opened, letting in an elegantly clad woman and a robust young man. The woman was tall and willowy, with billowing lavender hair and bright golden eyes. The man, on the other hand, was broad and muscular with cropped red hair and the same golden eyes as the woman. The woman stopped as she caught sight of Flare, but then swept forward, tears brimming in her eyes as she enveloped Flare in a hug. "My poor child, my baby. What have they done to you? If only I had paid closer attention, you never would have been taken."
The man walked forward and laid a large hand on the frail woman's shoulder. "Mother, please, give her room," he murmured, though power and heat was behind every word. Flare looked up at him and couldn't help but stare. Where Flare's presence was like a soft candle, this man's seemed to be a raging inferno. This could be none other than her brother, God of Fire.
The woman nodded and stood, finally glancing over at Svetlan. She nodded politely. "I thank you for rescuing my daughter."
The commander nodded in return. "It was nothing, Aisling. We've been after this man for a long time. I am only sorry we didn't catch him sooner. You have my most sincere apologies."
Aisling nodded, then looked to her son. "Aiden, please pick up your sister. We are going home." The man nodded, gently lifting up Flare from her seat on the couch. She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling secure for the first time in ten years.
Home. She was going home.
Flare smiled slowly, looking beyond the rail of the balcony and to the garden below. She was currently sitting on a sculpted stone bench in a flowing gown that did a wonderful job hiding her disability. Her long red hair was bound in a loose braid with little wisps escaping to tickle her face. The expression she wore was relaxed, nothing like she used to wear.
It was two months after she had been brought here. It had grown to become home to her. She saw her mother often now, but still only saw Aiden rarely, though he tried to spend as much time with her as he could. The two would often compare childhood and Flare would listen to her older brother's stories. The two grew very close very quickly and their bond was now something Flare deeply cherished. She only wished she saw him more often.
Sighing lightly, she turned to watch her companion. He was brooding and silent, dark of complexion and dress. The man wore his hair long and his black eyes were usually hard like obsidian. He was a werecat, of the panther variety, and was her guardian. His sole role was to protect Flare and take her where she needed to go. She still had trouble breaking through his cold reserve, but he would sometimes give her a small, barely detectable smile.
"Bastion, why is my brother away so often?" she idly asked, focusing her clear golden eyes on his black ones.
The darkly tanned man turned his attention to her, remaining silent for a moment as he pulled his thoughts together. "You know Master Aiden is the God of Fire, correct?" He paused, and then at her nod he continued. "Master Aiden is part of the four elemental gods. He and the other three are the most powerful here, and so one of them will always be the leader of the rest. For the last 30 years, your brother has led him. However, the others consider him a simple boy. So your brother must be out, keeping them in line so they won't cause any undue mischief," he explained to her.
Flare took in this information, nodding slightly as she put her weight on her hands, leaning back. After a few minutes, she spoke up again. "Bastion, I wish to see my mother. Something's…troubling me."
"Of course, Mistress Seraphine." As he strode over to lift her into his strong arms, Flare made a face. She really wished he would desist in calling her Seraphine. But there was really no helping it, she supposed, though he could at least shorten her name to Sera.
The werecat's long strides brought the pair quickly to Aisling, who was in her room, strumming on her harp. As her door opened, she stood to greet them. Bastion placed Flare on her mother's bed and then went to stand by the door, unobtrusive.
"And to what do I owe this visit?" Aisling asked, sitting beside her daughter, eyes kind of soft.
"Mother…I am troubled. I'm having strange dreams and I don't quite know the meaning of them. Usually I am able to interpret them…but this is different."
The Goddess of Dreams nodded, face becoming somber. "I too have been having trouble." At her daughter's surprised expression, she nodded, letting her worry show. "Someone is blocking our abilities, but for whatever reasons I am not sure. I can only assume it is something terrible," she said, grabbing Flare's hand. "Well, maybe I can gain some insight from your dream. Tell me, please."
Flare quickly agreed to her mother's request. "It is a simple, short dream, one that loops over and over. All I see is a set of two candles. The first had a very large flame, burning strong and bright. The second flare is muted and shadowed by the glory of the first. However, the first candle suddenly goes out, not even smoke remaining. Then the second candle's flame grows and grows, leaping beyond that of what the first flame had been. Then the dream repeats."
Aisling grew troubled, a feeling of foreboding closing over her. Suddenly, she stood up. "Flare, you must leave immediately. Bastion, go to the portal room. Tell the witch there to send you and Flare directly to Reikai to see Prince Koenma."
The werecat quickly obeyed Aisling's orders, scooping up Flare even as the girl struggled to get back to her mother. "Wait! Why! Why are you sending me away? Mother!" Her call echoed down the hallway as she was spirited away by Bastion. She tried to fight him, but he was much too strong. They soon reached the room, startling the portal witch. "We must get to Reikai, quickly," Bastion demanded. The woman quickly jumped into action, summoning the portal.
"Bastion! What's going on?" Flare demanded, lips pressed together in a thin line, showing her anger and displeasure at this.
The werecat gave her an impassive look. "If I follow Mistress Aisling's logic, your brother is going to die."
Flare stilled in his arms, a look of shock passing over her face. "But…I must go to him then! Why are we going to Rekai? Why aren't we helping him?"
"You cannot help. You must be kept safe. If Master Aiden dies, his powers go to you. Now, I have no powers as far as dreams go, but the meaning of your dream is obvious. The first flame is your brother, and you the second. Master Aiden dies, and then you receive his powers, only you are even stronger. If you stay, your powers will be very new and raw. It would be very easy for the other three to dispose of you."
"Why would they do that, Bastion? It makes no sense…"
"It makes perfect sense. None of them want an upstart to rule them. Also-"
Bastion was suddenly cut off as someone slammed the door behind them. Whirling around, the werecat held tighter to Flare, but relaxed as he saw who it was. Aiden gave him a wavering smile before sliding down the door, leaving a red streak behind him. He was pale and shaky, and it had obviously cost him a lot to get here. "Hurry and go. I can only keep them away for so long," he said to Bastion before looking to Flare. "I'm sorry that I never had more time with you, little sister. And I'm sorry we have to part this way. But you must stay safe. Fare well, Flare," he whispered, voice becoming weaker as Bastion turned to enter the now open portal.
"Aideeeeeen!" Flare cried even as she lost sight of him. She collapsed against Bastion's chest, her fists beating against him. "Why…why…WHY!" she yelled, sobbing. She wanted her brother, needed him. He was dying. She needed to be with him, to comfort him. But he had to send her away! Did no one understand?
Suddenly, she felt as if something snapped. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in a silent scream. She suddenly felt as if she were burning from the inside out as power seemed to rush into her, filling her. But it hurt…it hurt so much. It abated slightly, allowing her a breather, before it increased. Thankfully, she soon passed out, now unaware of everything.
Bastion sighed as he stepped out of the portal and lightly brushed a wisp of red hair out of Flare's face, which was contorted in pain. Even in unconsciousness, she felt pain. Her body would spasm every once in a while before she would settle again. If Flare could see Bastion's eyes now, she could call them haunted and despairing. The werecat allowed himself to grieve for a moment before pushing everything out and locking it away. It would be dealt with later. Now she had a new goddess to take care of. With that in mind, he set out to secure Flare a room, knowing his role was now that much more important.
