C.M.D: Here it is, the long-waited HaseoxSilabus AU! Probably not the first one out there -and unlikely to be the last- but I'm sure you guys are happy all the same that the fandom is getting some attention. Right, right? The idea has been chasing itself around my head for a good while now, but I kept pushing it off because I had so much other stuff to deal with; namely, my other, uncompleted fanfictions. I'm really, really, REALLY bad for doing that... But the time is finally here for a new HaseoxSilabus fanfic! HURRAY!
I'll probably do some more AU in the future, and less stories based in The World... because that's haaaaaaard... and somewhat boring. Anyways, go ahead and read!
Fire and Ash
Twilight spilled over the hillside, bathing the world in gold and baby blues. The few roosters scrabbling about in the dirt turned their heads to the sky, crowing loudly for all to hear. Farmers, already awake, entered their houses; coming from the farmhouse after milking the cows to rouse the rest of their family. The tanner, the butcher and the blacksmith pulled themselves out of bed, leaving their wives to sleep a little longer, while they headed downstairs to their shops to start the day. Outside, the roosters crowed a few moments more, finally ceasing their wake-up call. By now, the tiny little town was bustling; nearly everyone awake from a brand new day.
Snug in his bed, one young man was reluctant to rise, but eventually the sunlight streaming through his window became too incessant to be ignored any longer. Yawning, he pushed his covers off, getting to his feet. The washbasin he had prepared the night before stood waiting for him on his dresser, and as he washed up, the man looked into the mirror. He brushed damp, brown bangs behind his ear, wiping the last of the sleep out of his eyes as he started to brush his teeth.
As the noise outside increased, the young man dressed himself, adorning a simple green tunic over a red, sleeveless turtleneck, with matching green pants. He had only padded out of the bedroom and into the main area of the house, where the living den and kitchen combined into one room under the worn, thatched roof, when his front door was swung open.
"Good morning, Silabus!," a plump, little boy, greeted; waddling into the house. Many people would be disturbed by the child's appearance at first sight, because he was part of a species called Beasts. But to the aforementioned man -now identified as Silabus- the sight of the boy walking into his kitchen, with floppy pink dog ears and tail, was not so unusual. In his little, nameless village many people of the child's kin lived peacefully here; with only a few humans, Silabus included.
Therefore, the brunette did not leap to his feet at the child's entry; sitting at his table calmly, yanking his leather boots onto his feet. "Good morning Gaspard," he replied. "Managed to slip away from your mother, have you?"
Gaspard's mother, a woman just as plump as her son with the sweetest disposition ever known on a person, had her hands full with nine children. All of whom could be seen tearing through the village at some point and time, causing no end of trouble. Gaspard was the youngest and by far his mother's favourite, being sweet-natured and much more behaved than his older brothers and sisters. Unfortunately this meant that the boy's mother tried to keep an eye on him constantly, fearing he might start misbehaving like his siblings.
Gaspard's imprisonment was having a different effect though. The boy was growing a desire for adventure, which prompted him to sneaking off and joining Silabus during his walks. The brunette never strayed very far from the village, but the woods or the fields were enough to satisfy Gaspard's need for freedom, and the young man didn't mind the boy's presence. Everything they did was safe, and Silabus always made sure that Gaspard was back home well before dinner, so the boy's mother didn't disapprove too much. At the mention of his mom, the plump child scrunched his nose, cautiously looking over his shoulder to the open door as he approached the table.
"Mom's over at Mrs. Tanner's. She got a stretch of cotton from the merchant last week, in lilac. She plans to use it for my sister Maria's wedding dress, and she wants to enlist Mrs. Tanner's help for the project," the boy explained. "I don't think she'll notice my absence for a while."
"Hmmm... but she will eventually," Silabus chuckled. He finished lacing up his boots, grabbing the satchel that sat waiting for him off the table and shouldering it. "Come, let us go outside."
Gaspard dutifully followed after the brunette and out into the bustling town square. Forty tiny houses, each with straw-thatched roofs and simple plank doors, huddled in a lop-sided circle around the tramped earth that made up the village's square. A dirt road winded away and up into the hills surrounding the little town, disappearing from sight over the green incline. Though he had never left the village, Silabus knew that the road led to the large river-side city of Mac Anu. The thriving metropolis was a month's journey away, much too far to travel for a regular person, but the merchants always made their way to this nameless town intermediately throughout the year.
Behind the Tanner's hut was another road, more like a dirt trail than anything else, leading off past the few farm houses that sat behind the village and into the impenetrable forest that loomed behind them. Not many dared to enter too far into the dark trees, except for a few brave souls and the village children trying to out-best each other. It was considered dangerous by many people. Silabus had no intentions of going into the forest today either. He turned and headed for the main road, returning the greetings that came his way. Gaspard tailed along, waving heartily to everyone they passed.
"Going out to the meadow, are ye?," Mrs. Blacksmith called, stepping out from the heat of her husband's forge. In her arms was a basket of laundry.
"Yes," Silabus said, "The weather is good today. I thought to do some work and pick my herbs after."
"Well, take this then dearie," the stout woman replied, pulling a small sack off from the belt around her waist. "A little something to gnaw upon while yer up in those hills."
Gaspard moved forward to retrieve the bundle. "And mind that ye get home well before dusk, the both of thee. Must be wary of bandits and monsters. And o' course," Mrs. Blacksmith added, shifting her load and fixing the plump boy with a look. "Ye wouldn't want to be giving thy mother a fright either."
Gaspard mutely nodded at the warning, returning quickly to Silabus' side. The man chuckled, patting the head of blush-coloured hair. "Don't worry, ma'am, I'll have him home well before dinner," the brunette promised.
Mrs. Blacksmith smiled and turned to walk around to the back of her house, where she would wash the laundry and hang it to dry out in the sun. With no further interruptions, Silabus and Gaspard left the village, cresting up the closest hill.
"It's soooo beautiful up here," Gaspard panted as they trekked over the other side. "No matter how many times I see it."
Silabus could understand his young friend's awe. Though the hillside facing the village was more rock than anything else, the top leveled out into a meadow of long, sweeping grass and wildflowers; stretching as far as the eye could see. The beautiful blue sky touched the edges of the meadow, the tender insects of the plain their only other companions. This place could only by described as the brunette's favourite. He loved everything, from the warm breeze playing at the grass, to the delicate perfume of nature's sweetest flora. When Silabus needed peace, this was where he usually came.
Both males wadded out a little further into the meadow, settling down on a padded patch of earth; Silabus pulling a thick journal and pen from his satchel. "Do you think you'll ever finish?," Gaspard asked, indicating to the book. Silabus smiled, slowly turning the pages. Each turn revealed a small sketch of an animal or plant on the parchment, coupled with a long, detailed analysis of the specimen. It was a hobby of Silabus' to document the things around him, and the attributes that those things possessed. Not many people could understand why he did it, but the brunette didn't mind. It kept him interested, and satisfied his curiosity at the same time.
"I'd like to think it'll be one day," the man replied.
Gaspard laid out on the grass on his stomach, resting his chin on his knuckles; looking up at the brunette adoringly. "It would be great if you did," the boy agreed. "It'll be the first book ever, with all the information about the trees and animals."
"I hardly think my encyclopedia will be the first ever," Silabus chuckled, as he started to pen in a sparrow on a blank page. "Besides there are many more creatures and plants out there that I have never seen before. No, I don't think my book will mean much when it is complete, but I will be satisfied if I can share it with the villagers at least."
Gaspard said nothing at this, rolling over and gazing up at the sky. He called out the shapes he saw, building stories to the cloud castles and dragons that shifted his way, as Silabus worked in his journal; happily conversing with the boy. The day grew warmer as noon approached, the air being filled with the sound of buzzing insects.
"It seems like we'll have a good harvest," Silabus commented as they had their lunch. Chewing on the bread and cheese Mrs. Blacksmith had given them for their meal, Gaspard glanced up at the man.
"What do you mean?," he asked through a mouthful.
"The insects," Silabus chuckled, wiping the crumbs off the child's face. "There's a lot of them this year. They'll help pollinate the crops and we'll have a plentiful harvest."
'And a good thing too,' Silabus thought. 'Our village couldn't survive another winter because of failed crops.' The man was pulled out of his thoughts by Gaspard who stared at the brunette inquisitively, one hand tugging on Silabus' tunic, the other holding his forgotten, half-eaten lunch.
"Yes, Gaspard?"
"Do you smell smoke?"
It took half a second for the question to register in his mind before Silabus was leaping to his feet, his book and pen tumbling to the ground from his lap. "No! You stay here Gaspard," he ordered the boy, who had jumped to his feet as well. "I'm going to look ahead."
Hoping the child would listen to his instructions, Silabus ran back to the edge of the meadow, stopping for a moment at the hilltop and staring at the scene down below. It was a sight of utter chaos. Away from the buzzing insects he could hear the screaming of the villagers and the crackling of the fire as it devoured their homes and ate at their crops. A few men were trying to file together a fire line, but too many people were in a state of panic to help much. Knowing he was needed, Silabus stumbled down the hillside, tripping among the rocks as he raced for the bottom.
Thick, black smoke caught him in the face as he headed for the village, blown off of one of the burning roofs; sending him into a coughing fit. Fanning his face uselessly, Silabus backtracked, running away from the acrid cloud and into cleaner air. He rounded around to the back of the village, a row of houses on his left. Someone cried from that direction and blinking the tears out of his eyes, the brunette turned to the sound.
"Hang on!," he shouted to a little Beast girl.
She was trapped within one of the burning houses, banging on the window, screaming her face off in terror. Silabus ran to her, trying to open the window from the outside. It would not budge. The child cried more still, hacking from the smoke. The brunette looked around him desperately, picking up a rock from the mud, gesturing wildly for the little girl to move. She did, long enough for him to hurl the rock through the stubborn glass. Not caring about his own safety, Silabus hurriedly knocked out the rest of the glass, pulling the girl over the frame and out of the inferno.
She howled like crazy, wrapping her arms and legs tightly around his body. "It'll be okay," Silabus mumbled into her sooty hair. "It'll be alright." He stumbled away from the house as it groaned ominously, collapsing behind him with a great shudder. The girl's distraught mother came running forward as Silabus stepped into the clear, practically ripping the child from his arms in relief.
"C'mon!," Silabus pushed mother and child. "We need to get out of here!"
They were jogging to the edge of the village when cackling laughter and thundering hooves rendered the air. With new panic, the villagers run away from the forest's edge, where they were taking shelter, and back into the flaming town. Bandits, all human, broke through the dark trees, streaming through the black smoke, swinging swords and axes. They swooped upon the fleeing villagers, cutting them down and herding them deeper into the burning village.
"C'mon now!," a voice shouted over the din. "Round 'em up."
Silabus stumbled back into his village with the others, clasping both hands over his mouth as black smoke filled his lungs. As he choked, he knew without a doubt that unless something else happened soon, something to change the tide of this madness, he and the others would either die from smoke inhalation or be brutally massacred by the bandits. Silabus walked further into the flames, away from the approaching bandits. On their steeds, they seemed unaffected by the clouting smoke and hot fire; dark eyes searching eagerly for the poor villagers, ready to slaughter them once found.
Was this how he was going to die?
'No!', the brunette thought, shaking his head wildly. This couldn't just be the end of it! He dropped to the ground, scrambling through the dirt, listening to the screams of the villagers all around him. When his fingers closed over the largest rock he could grasp, Silabus clambered back onto his feet, clutching the rock to his chest tightly. Not giving himself a second further to think about the foolish act he was about to do- because it was beyond a doubt foolish- Silabus ran through the cloud of smoke, hurling his rock at the nearest bandit.
It missed by a mile.
Angered that someone would dare try to attack him, the bandit slid off his horse and stomped to the dazed brunette. Seconds too late, Silabus realized he should have run away. As the other man's fingers wrapped around his throat, the brunette felt truly afraid.
"Stupid bastard," the bandit hissed, punching the young man. Silabus doubled over, arms wrapping around his gut where the thug had punched him. Still gripping the brunette's throat, the bigger man followed through with several more punches, the last being a fist to the temple. Silabus went limp in the man's hand after that one, and with a snort of disgust, the bandit flung him into some smoldering ashes.
Silabus could hear the bandit that had beat him order the others to circle the rest of the villagers and strip them before killing them; but the brunette thought no more about that. His injured mind was only able to focus on the sharp pains that shot through his body with every breath, getting fainter each time; and the flames that drew ever closer to his prone form, even as the darkness around his eyes loomed nearer. Slowly, painfully, Silabus closed his eyes.
'So, this is death... I-it's almost... cold...'
The young man wearily opened his eyes; praying, hoping he'd be able to see the sun at least one more time before darkness took him completely. No sunlight greeted him, but another sight that greatly surprised the brunette. Standing over him was a figure in black armor, tattered cloak flapping in the hot wind behind him. Perhaps because of his head injury, Silabus did not question the shadows that clung to the other male's body. Nor did he notice that when the stranger looked at him that there was no proper face to be seen, only a veil of darkness that blurred out all details. Still, Silabus did not feel fear, knowing instinctively that this person was not one of the bandits.
"T-t... the... v-villagers...," the brunette croaked, making his plea to the stranger. He could hear the others screaming still amid the bandits evil laughter; the tortured cries of another villager as they were struck down.
The individual kneeled, his black armor clinking as he shifted closer to the brunette. With one clawed hand -Silabus took it to be gloved. All of the stranger's armor protruded in dangerous spikes- the youth touched the man's shoulder before rising again to his feet. His dark cloak swirled about him as he walked further into the fiery fray; the red and orange light not even enough to penetrate his shadows. Silabus watched the stranger stride toward where the villagers screams could be heard, until he was no longer in sight; and feeling at peace, the brunette closed his eyes once more.
Ready for the death that awaited him.
There was a terrible pounding behind his ears. Slowly, cautiously, Silabus opened his eyes, gasping as sharp sunlight pierced his retinas. Closing his eyes against the onslaught, the brunette pushed himself off from the ground, the ache in his head increasing with the motion. Confused, Silabus opened his eyes again -slower this time- studying his surroundings. All around him were blackened huts, some having fallen in on themselves while their brethren still stood, scarred by the flames that had blazed through the village earlier. The fire was gone now, but smoke still rose from the smouldering ruins.
Rising from the bed of ash he had been lying in, Silabus stumbled through the wreckage, wondering if he was the only one alive. He choked in relief when he found the rest of the villagers huddled together near the hills; dirty and terrified, but alive.
"Silabus!," a voice cried.
A plump, colourful body detached from the rest of the grey mass, running for the young man. Gaspard hugged Silabus tightly, crying into the brunette's chest. "I-i-i-i thought y-you d-died!," the boy wailed.
Smiling understandably, Silabus hugged the child back, feeling tears prick at his own eyes. "I'm alive," he mumbled in assurance. "I'm alive."
Straightening up, Silabus wiped at his cheeks, patting Gaspard's head. "It must of been that man. Did you see him? He was dressed in black armor. He came after the bandits. He must of saved us!"
Gaspard stepped back from Silabus, his rotund face pale. "But Silabus...," the boy whispered. "I was watching from the hill the entire time. There was no man."
"What, now that's just silly, Gaspard," the brunette laughed. "Maybe you didn't see him through the smoke. He was really here though. He touched my shoulder and listened to my plea before I lost consciousness. He stopped the bandits, like I asked!"
The following silence was deafening. Gaspard bowed his head, not looking up at the young man. Silabus stared puzzled from the child, turning his gaze to the rest of the villagers; a queerness filling his stomach heavily. "But... I mean..." Gaspard's mother stepped forward, yanking her son back. She shuffled quickly back into the crowd.
"If you were seeing a stranger in black armor," the butcher growled, fangs bared, stepping before the others, "It was no man that you were seeing. He's been marked by Death!," he yelled, looking to the villagers. "The God Skeith came for us today but answered this fool's plea. We've been spared a peaceful enough death for an even worse fate!"
Silabus flinched at the accusation and raised his hands imploringly. "No, that's not right!," he started to say, but the villagers shuffled away from his outstretched hands, trembling with fright. Lowering his hands slowly, Silabus turned away from the others, walking back into the ravaged village.
The light of a new day dawned on the village, revealing the charcoaled skeletons of the homes that once housed happy lives. Now their residents marched through the destruction, disturbing the ashes of their former lives to unbury anything salvageable. Mutely, they piled their belongings onto the only two carts that had survived the fire, tethering the last of their cattle to the front. Sitting before the ruins of his own home, Silabus watched with distant eyes as the villagers shuffled around him, all ignoring his presence as they went about their tasks. He did not shift through the broken pieces of his house like the others, but remained sitting, watching as the villagers prepared to leave.
"Silabus...," a meek voice said. Gaspard shuffled into the brunette's view, checking over his shoulder before taking a seat beside the man. In his hands was the man's satchel. "Here, I-i got this from the meadow for you," Gaspard held out the bag, but when Silabus would not take it, he set it on the ground between them. He glanced out quietly at the others, before turning his attention back to the brunette.
"Aren't you coming?," the boy asked. Silabus blinked, but did not answer. Gaspard grabbed his friend's hand, wide, pleading eyes turned up to the brunette. "Silabus, please... come with us. You can't stay here. We have no more homes or food... How will you survive?"
A weary smile came to Silabus' face and he pulled his hand out of the child's grip. "Your mom is looking for you," the brunette said. In a sense, it was the truth. The reality though was that she was glaring at the young man from beside the carts; her fear of the brunette being the only thing that kept her from stomping over and tearing her son away. Silabus patted Gaspard's head, paying no mind to the tears in the child's eyes.
"Go on," Silabus urged, pushing the boy to his feet. "The carts will be leaving soon."
Gaspard shuffled in place, not wanting to leave the brunette's side; but at the hills, the butcher and blacksmith were pushing the cows into motion. The animals lowed deeply, plodding up the steep incline, assisted by the men. Finally Gaspard realized he had no choice but to turn away. "Goodbye Silabus," he whispered, jogging after his mother.
The man said nothing, watching in silence once more as the villagers trekked up the hill, disappearing over the crest. The sun reached its top pinnacle, and slowly, Silabus rose; walking through the desert town and into the dark forest.
C.M.D: When I finally started to write, this chapter came out in under an hour. And I practically loved it from the get-go! With just a few tweaks and such, it's become this awesome little prologue. Hopefully, this story will be complete sooner than ever so there won't be any dreadful long update periods for you, my dear readers. After all, AU is so much easier to write... which is why I guess I like it more; coupled in with the whole fantasy element that I love... Anyways, hope you liked it. Review and tell me your thoughts!
PS- I am continuing A Touch of Death, but it's currently under progress until both this cold leave me and inspiration returns. Sorry about the delay!