Disclaimer: I do not own Yuugiou, even though I dumped a whole pocket full of change into a wishing well at my local Wal-Mart. Knew there was something fishy about it when that shady guy appeared out of no where with a tattered blue vest and scooped it up and ran away cackling; I thought that he was just the store's local lawn gnome… Alas, I do not own Escaflowne either or anything that might hold reference to Lord of the Rings. However, I do own and proudly horde any original characters of mine that appear here, and I suppose that you could say that I own the designs given to the characters from the respective series, and the plot is certainly mine… well, half of it anyway. The other half belongs to Rouge Mage, as this is based on a role play she and myself did several months ago.
Story Started: September 16, 2005 at 9:56 PM
Chapter Started:
September 16, 2005 at 9:57 PM
Chapter Finished: September
18, 2005 at 9:58 PM
Thunder rolled across the sky, thick smoke gray clouds obscuring the sparkling diamonds known as stars hung each in their own individual spot on the inky velvet cloak that was the twilight. The air was heavy with the pungent scent of wet earth, borne on restless winds from the west where the clouds had already broken and spilled their contents onto the dry grasslands some twenty miles away. Restless and reluctant to die the breezes pulled at the heavy curtains hung about the open windows, causing the strips of weighty fabric to flap and strain against the iron rungs holding them in place. A fire crackling in the stone hearth flared whenever the winds attacked its chimney, stubbornly refusing to be put out while the wind moaned and howled inside the brick column used to carry smoke away. Shadows danced across the bleak ashen colored walls of the room whenever the tug-of-war began, the fire being the only source of light in the room as the torches mounted on the walls every twenty yards or so had either been snuffed out by the agitated drafts or had never been lit to begin with. The sole occupant of the gloomy study didn't seem to mind the lack of luminescence, sitting with his back to the struggle between fire and air with his gaze focused on the world outside the open window.
Locks of silver hair infused with hints of crimson and ginger courtesy of the fire cascaded down his back to rest between his shoulder blades and bangs of equal length fell to frame his sharply defined face. A robe of wine-red velvet clung to his body, the sleeves flaring out to hang loosely around his hands, the hemming embroidered with golden vines of ivy. They slipped back as he brought his elbows to rest on the top of the mahogany desk, long fingers interlocking as he tucked his hands beneath his chin and leaned forward. Sighing wearily he mumbled an incantation beneath his breath. The room was plunged into instant darkness, the fire subdued for the moment. Dimly a tiny sphere of gold glimmered in the gloom, and just as quickly as the darkness had descended it was chased away when the fire burst from the logs in the gut of the fireplace as the Elf growled and dropped his hands to the desk, the fingers curled into fists.
"What are you hiding?" He hissed softly, glaring down at the desktop and growling when a knock sounded on the heavy wooden door at the other end of the chamber. "Enter!" The man snapped in reply, fighting to regain his composure.
"You wanted to see us milord?" A soft masculine voice inquired, ringing with soothing tones of respect and wisdom. Pegasus closed his eyes and took a deep breath before rising from his seat and turning to acknowledge the presence of the younger Elves, taking in their appearance. Youthful and world wary the twins observed him patiently, the elder more so than the younger.
Aerandir stood with his hands clasped behind his back, the snow white robe of a magus appearing extraordinarily pristine against the shadowy entryway with soft orange and saffron hues dancing across the fabric as the flames resumed their tug-of-war with the wind that was ever increasing in strength as the storm drew closer. Pastel red-violet hair spilled over his shoulders and down his back, pale amethyst eyes shining in the reflected light. His fair skin was unmarred save for the thin violet tattoo beneath his left eye that reached from lower lid to jaw line, his facial features relaxed and filled with grave curiosity at the same time. His younger brother, flaxen haired and amber eyed Firandel, was garbed in the rust hued robe of a warrior. Unlike his sorcerer brother the warrior was ill-practiced in schooling his expressions outside of battle. The downcast corners of his mouth and the subtle shifting of weight to one side betrayed his impatience with the summonsing. Clearly he believed that this meeting was going to be a waste of valuable time. Pegasus couldn't keep himself from smiling faintly; undoubtedly Aerandir was of a like mind, but several centuries of practicing meditation and delicate spell weaving had instilled in him a certain discipline that enabled him to remain calm given the situation he and his twin were dealing with at the time – the disappearance of their younger brother Cimeron.
"Ah yes, of course. Please, make yourselves comfortable." He replied, spreading his arms wide as if to encompass the room. The torches on the walls ignited with the passing of his hands, brightened slowly until light permeated every corner of the room. Without waiting to see if they take the invitation he turned and strode to a wine cabinet on the other side of the room, his booted feet clicking against the smooth obsidian flooring when he stepped off the plush crimson rug stationed before the desk. He heard the whisper of cloth brushing against stone as the twins finally moved from their spot just within the entryway while he busied himself with the task of pouring a glass of wine, corking the bottle and replacing it to its proper place on the rack before turning to face them again.
The High Elf took his time in speaking again, casually turning his chair around with a lazy sort of grace and sitting. He swirled the wine about in the crystal goblet, studying the transparent maroon liquid as it splashed against the sides of the cup before taking on the appearance of a miniature whirlpool. He heard Firandel shift a fraction of an inch in his chair and picked up on the slight altercation in Aerandir's rhythm of breathing and hid his smirk by bringing the chalice to his lips and sampling the rich beverage. Oh how he so loved to test the patience of the twins whenever he had the pleasure of meeting with them in private. They truly were some of his favorite clansmen, loyal and generally good natured enough to take his mannerisms in stride. Something told the lord that now was not the time to toy with them however, and he skipped the rest of the pleasantries, getting to the point.
"I've spoken with our allies concerning Cimeron's disappearance. Lord Solomon and his grandson have pledged to keep an eye out for anything suspicious, but their clan can not monitor anything beyond the boundaries of their territory without the other Faerie clans getting into an uproar." Pegasus announced as he set aside the wine, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair and forming a steeple with his fingers. He took a moment to allow the statement to process within the twins' minds before continuing. "The Were tribes and neither denying nor admitting knowledge that could be of use, but as they are outside of our domain they are not bound to tell us anything. All the Alphas would give up was the name of someone who might know something."
"Well, that's something isn't it?" Firandel said with a frown, his brows knitting together. The lord smiled patiently and waited for him to quiet before responding.
"Yes, it most certainly is. There is a problem with what they told us however." He explained. When Aerandir quirked a slim brow in curiosity he clarified. "The Werewolves suggested speaking with a Kitsune who goes by the names Willow Frost and Aislin. Kitsunes in themselves are secretive, but a Kyubi alpha is almost impossible to find even with our tracking skills. Only those she has trust in can readily find her, if she is in the mood to be found."
"So it's pointless to try and follow the lead." Aerandir sighed, slumping dishearteningly into his chair. Once again Pegasus found himself smiling in amusement at a jump in conclusion.
"I never said that." The smile was accompanied with a soft laugh this time as both twins started, incomprehension turning their eyes into dull polished stones. "I simply said that only those she trusts can find her without spending a human lifetime searching. It just so happens that, for the moment, another of our allies has thrown out a proposition. Lord Mahaado, Master Vampire of Nadershade, is willing to aid you in meeting with her, if you are willing to do something for him in exchange."
"What is it that he wants?" The twins spoke in unison, not pausing to think it over.
"As you may or may not be aware Mahaado has fathered two children, both of them sons. The youngest is only a Half-Blood; born to a human lover which he had never had the desire to assimilate into his clan for fear that she would lose that which attracted him to her. The eldest is a member of the newest generation of Pure-Bloods, offspring born of the copulation of two Vampires. This older one, Bakura as he is known, has recently gotten himself into a spot of trouble with a Hunter known as Seto. Mahaado has agreed to help you find Aislin if you will travel with the Hunter and keep him away from the city for a while until everything can be straightened out. I would recommend that you take the offer; you might be able to find more clues by traveling with the young man on his various commissions than by remaining here within our borders."
The twins glanced at each other, wordless conversation passing from one to another and back again. Pegasus let them be, knowing the ultimately the decision rested on the brothers' shoulders. As he waited for an answer he picked up the chalice he had set aside earlier, nursing the red wine occasionally as he studied his reflection in the swirling liquid. While his features were that of a man no older than his late thirties early forties his eyes gleamed with wisdom far greater than that of any human with the same 'age'. In the time since his youth he had seen countries rise to power only to fall flat on their metaphorical asses whenever they became too overconfident. He had witnessed many a senseless war fought over the something as trivial as a spit of land no larger than twenty miles across. For more than two thousand years he had reigned here, in this fortress city of Anthrum-Faal and had been a warrior for another millennium before that during the Great War that had been both the start of the Age of Man and the beginning of the decline of the Ancient races.
His blood simmered at the mere memory of the Great War. Three thousand years ago, when the race of Man was still nothing more than a group of un-unified struggling countries, a being who called himself Necrophades had struck out with the age old quest of world domination through the use of dark magic and beasts he bred for the purpose of serving his needs. It was only through the combined forces of the unorganized humans and the races of the Ancients –the Elves, the Dragons, the Vampires, the Seraphim, the Faeries, the Kitsunes, and various others- that the Dark Lord was defeated. While Gaea was spared an unsavory fate the war had done a great deal of damage to the Ancients. In the centuries that followed the Humans had risen to power, their quicker reproduction rates allowing them to overpower the decimated populations of their fellow races. Even to this day some of the Ancients were at a stand still, just as many dying as were being born. The only true exceptions to this depressing trend were the Vampires, Seraphim, and Werecreatures, all of which required Humans in some way even though they were perfectly capable of reproducing by sexual means.
"We'll do it." The soft voice of Aerandir broke into his mind, shattering the troublesome memories of countless battles and bloodshed so that they left only glittering shards to rest at the edge of his consciousness where they waited to be pieced together again when next he was alone. Tearing his gaze away from the hypnotic swirling of the garnet wine Pegasus quirked the corners of his lips into a satisfied grin, one which a cat might give as he entertained the thought of strangling a caged bird, and set the wine aside again as he stood and shuffled through a small pile of papers on the desk behind him, extracting a map. Turning he approached them, his boots muffled by the carpeting beneath them, and presented the geographical chart to Aerandir as the twins stood. Clasping each brother by a shoulder he gave them a warm reassuring smile, at the moment their friend and not their leader.
"The map has been marked to show the locations of the pubs the Hunter is known for conducting business at. You will have to find and convince him to allow you to become business partners. He is known for being bullheaded and strong willed, so be prepared to endure long negotiations. I will send a message to Mahaado as soon as you leave. I wish you luck."
After dismissing the twins so they could rest and be ready to leave in the morning Pegasus extinguished the torches with another wave of his hand, throwing the room into darkness save for the amber glow of the fire on the hearth that stretched dimly across the walls. Crossing over to the open window he tilted his head back, as though trying to see past the thick thunderheads that obscured the stars. The shards of memory shattered earlier by Aerandir began to pull themselves together. He frowned. There, beyond the angry clouds, was the realm of the Seraphim in which resided a fellow veteran of the war against Nercophades; the bronze winged Angel known only as Dartz. The one who had struck the fatal blow that had removed the Dark Lord of both his heads. The one to whom Pegasus shared a link woven by combined energies. Ever since the thread had been spun by a Dragon Seer all those centuries ago after the turning point in the war the Elf had been able to sense what the Angel was doing or what he was thinking and vice versa. Until now that is.
Frown deepening the Elf closed and locked the windows as another roll of thunder threatened to knock the panes of glass from their frames. Returning to his desk he once again took up the crystal goblet, raising it to his lips to drain it of its sweet alcoholic contents as all the while the disconcerting fact repeated itself in a constant marquee at the forefront of his mind; the link between Seraphim and Elf had been severed. Pegasus no longer knew what the other immortal was thinking, and if his intuition's whispers were to be believed, there was corruption spreading like wildfire through the heavens.