Title: The Price Paid (Prologue/?)
Series: Tales of Vesperia
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I don't own Tales of Vesperia. I do own any and all OCs, as well as plot.
Warnings: Boy love, language, violence, post-game
Characters: Yuri, Flynn, entire Vesperia cast?
Pairings: Yuri x Flynn, I dunno about others.
Summary: When they were young teens, Yuri had contracted a life-threatening disease. To save him, Flynn made a deal with the fae, but there was a price. If he could not win Yuri's heart by midnight on his 23rd birthday, Flynn would be taken to the faerie realm.
Know what it is to be a child,
It is to believe in love,
To believe in lovliness,
To believe in belief.
-To Be a Child, Frances Thompson
The night was cold, and the sky was clear of clouds. The winter constellations looked coldly down upon the world. The swollen moon's light blanketed the people, but offered no warmth or comfort as its counterpart did. Regardless, its light was enough to illuminate a single boy's path as he fled, away from an inn in the Lower Quarter of the Imperial Capital. His blond locks were pale in the blue-silver light, those sapphire eyes wild from desperation. He continued his mad dash until he was just outside the blastia barrier encircling Zaphias.
Glancing around, he sighed in relief when he saw that there were no bloodthirsty monsters nearby. He searched the area, eventually finding a sturdy stick strong enough to scratch the hard ground. Carefully, he drew a large circle, and then filled it with strange runes. When it was finished, the boy made another search, eventually finding a sharp stone. He cut his finger with the stone, hissing at the sting, and held it above the circle. The blood welled up and fell, a droplet splashing onto the mysterious markings. With a sigh, the boy whispered softly in a different language.
The circle glowed a soft green light, but the boy ignored it. He continued speaking in that soft whisper, the light gaining in intensity the longer he spoke. When he stopped, the light continued to grow as a wind suddenly started to kick up. The boy squeezed his eyes shut, and raised his arms to block the dirt from blowing into his eyes as the wind got stronger. After a moment, it died down, and everything was unnaturally silent.
"Why have you called me, child?" a soft voice asked, immediately drawing his attention. There, standing inside the circle, was a man dressed in such finery that nobles would have appeared as little more than 'dirty commoners.' The deep red robes, the gold and jewels that twinkled dully in the low light, all added to the regality of his image, but it was the crown upon his brow that allowed the boy to identify the man's station. The delicate, coppery wings fanning out from the being's back told him what species he had just conjured. He looked up to meet blank hazel eyes set in an angular face framed by chestnut hair.
"Please," the boy pleaded, "Please heal my friend!"
He watched the faerie noble, but he (the faerie) made no move to do anything. Yet despite his desperation, the boy said nothing as he waited for the fae man to make his decision. Those hazel eyes flickered, and his sigh was like a whispering breeze. The boy waited, praying that he would save his best friend's life.
"There is a price, child," the faerie finally spoke, his hazel eyes melting into a soft gaze, "Will you be prepared to pay it?"
The boy gulped, but steeled his nerves. He had to. It was all for Yuri. He just…he just had to do it. The boy nodded, whispering aloud his answer as well. He met the fae's eyes, prepared for the price. Yuri had to live…he just had to! The man sighed once more.
"If you cannot steal your friend's heart within ten years, the faerie folk shall steal you away. Are you prepared to pay this price?"
"Yes," there was no hesitation in his answer. They stared at each other for a long moment, the faerie noble searching for something in the child's gaze. The boy knew with certainty that he would never be able to fulfill the price, but he would be happy with the knowledge that Yuri would live. Those hazel eyes closed for a brief moment, as if in regret.
"Very well. In exchange for the healing of Yuri Lowell, you will be granted ten years to win his love. If this is not met, we will take you, Flynn Scifo, as payment."
After that declaration, the wind began to howl again, kicking up dust and dirt. Flynn closed his eyes, the words echoing in his head. He wondered, briefly, how the fae had known his and Yuri's names, but then he remembered his mother's stories. The faerie were the children of Mother Nature, and could easily pluck anyone's name from the wind.
Ten years…
His goal complete, Flynn gently began to erase the circle, smoothing over the lines he had carved into the ground. When he was done, he sprinted back inside the barrier, back to the Lower Quarter. He had to see with his own eyes that Yuri would live. Flynn nearly slammed open the door to the inn he and Yuri resided at in his haste. He only took a moment to catch his breath before running up the stairs to their room.
Upon opening the door, his eyes immediately fell on the boy in the bed. Long, dark hair fanned out on the pillow, and those equally dark eyes were closed in sleep. His pale complexion stood out, but it wasn't as bad as it had been before Flynn left. The disease had come upon Yuri so fast and so hard, it was a miracle that he had survived more than a week. Flynn dashed to the bedside, on his knees as he took a cold hand in both of his. He felt tears prickle his eyes, remembering the Yuri before his deal, the Yuri that had looked like a ghost. Finally, the other boy was starting to get better.
I only have ten years to live…
"Flynn…what did you do?" The somber voice of the lady innkeeper reminded him that he was not alone. Flynn looked behind him, meeting the concerned expressions of Rosie and Hanks. He gazed at them in exhaustion, but there was no regret in his eyes. They had seen him run out, and then come back in as soon as Yuri started showing improvement. He wasn't surprised that they had asked him, especially since they had known Máthair*….
"I did what I had to. The rest is up to Yuri," he replied, fully aware that his last statement had a double meaning. It would be up to the other boy to fully recover, but it would also be in his power to save Flynn's mortal life. He turned back to Yuri, resting his forehead against their clasped hands, almost as if in prayer.
Ten years…it will be enough.
*Máthair (MAW-her): Old Irish term for mother