This is a story I made for K'arthur's raffle. I did win something from it, so I was happy for that, but as of now...I'm very subdued. My parrot's just died last night...but I figured I wanted to put this up.

Please don't bother me about any of my other stories. I'm not in the emotional state. I will continue Degen. I will probably not continue Deadly Alliance. it's a waste of story.

Ahh…what's going on?

The young boy was scared. He didn't know what was going on, nor where he was. What he did know was that he was cold, and definitely wanted to get out of here. There were problems with that.

He didn't know who he was, what he was, or how to do anything other than breathe and feel emotions. He could hardly even walk. Mostly, he sat around, and crawled if he needed to move. And that's how it had been for about three days; Crawling around the dirty floors of an abandoned castle, hungry and cold.

Eventually, the young one was found by a strange man. This man was tall and imposing, with cold azure eyes and long tannish brown hair bound back in an austere ponytail, the hair exploding back in a spiked wave from where it was bound. His gaze was severe, but somehow…the boy found warmth in those eyes.

"Ahhh," he articulated, unsure of what to make of this creature before him. This man dressed in whites and golds.

"Luke," the man said softly, reaching his rough, powerful hands forward. The child screamed fearfully. He knew no better than to do such. It scared anything else that he didn't want near him away. What was a Luke? Why did this man proclaim the word to the boy?

"Luke, don't be scared?"

What was he saying?? What did he want?! The boy screamed again, but the man was not dissuaded. Instead, he picked the young child up, drawing him close. The red-haired kid struggled fearfully…but eventually relaxed when he realized screaming and kicking did nothing…and that the man meant no harm. If he did, he would have hurt the boy already.

"Baw?"

"Luke…can you not speak?" the man questioned, and there was a severity in his voice, as if the child's strange language displeased him. The redhead whimpered, curling up and trying to make himself smaller.

"No, it's alright. I won't hurt you. I'm going to bring you to your mom and dad."

The words were so soft…so reassuring. The young boy looked up at the man, his great big green eyes curious and innocent.

"Ooh?"

The man smiled.

"My name is Vandesdelca…"

"Bahnshleslkuh…?"

"A simple 'Van' will do."

"B…bahn?"

"No. Van."

"Vah…Vaaaahn. Vaaaaan."

"And you…are Luke."

"L…Luu…Luuke…"

"That's right. I'm Van. And you are Luke. Luke fon Fabre…"

The man—Van—sighed heavily. The child did not understand this, and curiously glanced up at Van.

"Poor child…you can't even speak. We'll fix that."

"F…iiiiix."

"Yes. Fix. You'll start to understand soon," Van assured him in a soft, fatherly manner. "Do you want to go home?"

"…Howmuh?"

"Home. Yes. Home is where you live. Where you belong."

The child did not understand. How could he, if he didn't even know the meaning behind Van's words. Van, he understood, was this man. The concept of a name was starting to come to him, helped by the pointing that Van had done. But there was still much to learn…and although Luke did not know it, Van was going to be his greatest teacher. So much learning would be required of him now. There was so little he knew.

***

Luke's first priority was to learn the fonic language. Even walking did not precede this. That was fine, because as he understood, the ones that looked like him were most loving towards him, and enjoyed contact with him. He enjoyed it as well, as it gave him this inner sense of belonging, although he did not quite understand it. It felt good. To him, that was all that mattered.

Learning the language, what was good, bad, and what things meant, took a lot of time, though not as much as teaching an adult might. Luke was only ten, and therefore quite impressionable. His teachers, including Van, took advantage of his malleable persona and began to re-teach him things. It took several months for him to properly speak, and his parents couldn't have been happier. Now the young one could communicate!

The next step was to teach him how to walk. Suzanne, his mother, took great interest in assisting him with this, giving him candy for every attempt; a reward to her son for trying to learn something new. Duke Fabre, of course, found this a very undesirable sort of teaching method. Suzanne was clearly spoiling their child. But he abstained from scolding his wife. Luke had gone through so much, could he really be so heartless as to deprive the boy some sweets? Even he, who had fought in wars, was not so cruel.

Luke was determined to get around on his own, and quickly learned walking. The allure of candy was not all he needed to want to move. There was so much to hear, see, smell, taste…how could he just sit still?

***

Luke's birthday was a momentous occasion. By the time he was one year older, he'd gotten the hang of the fonic language, was taking interest in swordsmanship thanks to Van, and had also been introduced to all of his family and the important people in his life. To be honest, that actually created problems for him. He couldn't remember the promise he'd supposedly made Natalia…and as a consequence, she was treating him quite coldly. As if it was his fault…

Some seemed to think he was being false about some of the things that had happened to him. As if he was faking all the memory loss. But at the very least, he had his mother to turn to. She believed him, and she didn't blame him for anything. Yet Suzanne also never told him what was going on with the investigation on who had kidnapped him. It was Master Van who told him all that he wanted to know, although he also reminded Luke that the investigation, while concerning him, might be better off unknown to him.

At any rate, Luke was eleven now, and hopefully, there was only good in the future for him…even if he did still feel most people treated him wrong. The only one that didn't was the one who had found him long ago; Van.

Ironically enough, it was Van who found him. Luke had hidden from everyone after his birthday party. He liked the attention, and he liked the presents, but the fact of the matter was that he didn't like the way he was treated by most of the people around him. Like he was defective or something…so, he'd gone up a tree in the gardens of the Fabre Manor, and was currently sitting there, arms crossed and very discontent. At least, until Van called out to him,

"Luke, why are you up there?"

The emerald-eyed youth turned his gaze down to the man, but didn't move.

"I don't wanna go back down there," he grumbled. "I'm tired of their looks."

Van frowned.

"And what looks are those? Everyone's just wishing you a happy birthday. What sort of looks other than those of happiness could they give you?"

"Yeah, right! They're all lookin' down at me like I'm some sort of messed up head case! I didn't ask to get kidnapped, darn it! I just want to be treated normal—aah!!"

The redhead had leaned over too far, and lost his balance in mid-rant. It was lucky for him that Van was there to catch him though…or maybe not. Although the man caught him, he was less than pleased with the kid's behavior, and his expression clearly showed that.

"That's enough, Luke. You're being selfish. Do you know how much time your friends and family devoted to talking care of you? Can you imagine for one minute how hurt Princess Natalia was when you showed up missing, and now more than ever because she knows you can't remember a childhood vow you made her?" Van scolded. "Perhaps you should think about how they feel, rather than judge them on how they look at you. Yes, the servants may eye you in a way that seems…less than fair. But it's because you're special, Luke."

"…Special? Tch. I'm nto special, and I know that's not what they think," Luke grumbled.

"Is that so? Do you think I look at you with contempt and disdain, Luke?"

"I don't even know what those words mean. They sound bad though, Master. And…you've never treated me bad. You and Mother treat me the nicest. But why though? Why do you treat me different?"

Van looked hesitant to answer that question. He set Luke down on his feet, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable, though not overly so.

"I suppose," he began, "It's because I pity you. You've had such a difficult life, Luke. Losing your memory can hardly be easy, and within a year, you've had to learn so much. I think it's very fair for you to feel the way you do, in some ways. But what I don't like about you as of late is that you're starting to judge the people around you."

"Yeah, so? They judge me, Master. Why should I be different?"

"Why should you be the same?"

Now Luke was confused again. What did Master Van mean?

"I thought fitting in was being just like everyone else, and that if I fit in, no one would treat me different, Master," he commented timidly. "I thought if I did whatever they wanted, and did it as good as I could, that they'd treat me like one of them."

"And would that give you satisfaction, Luke?" Van challenged. Would it make you feel better to know you have the approval of a bunch of people that aren't anywhere near as important in your life as your family? Does not your mother accept you? Do you not have people who care about you enough that you don't need to seek anyone else's approval?"

Luke actually thought about that for a long time. Yes, his mother did accept him, flaws and all, without question. She loved him unconditionally, and praised whatever he whenever she had the opportunity. His father was…distant and strict, but still Luke knew that the man cared for him; otherwise he'd spend no time with the boy. Natalia was cold, but aside from that, she'd really been worried sick about Luke when he'd been kidnapped. The others had told him so. King Ingobert, his uncle, certainly must care about him, for he wouldn't allow Luke out of the manor, for his own protection. It kept Luke trapped, but then again, there were people who cared about him.

And most of all, there was Guy, and Master Van. Master Van was the only one that treated Luke right, scolding and praising, and making the boy feel like he was worth something. Guy, too, was a good friend. He was more or less Luke's caretaker, far more to Luke than just any old servant. And even Ramdas showed him some consideration. Whether it was by his parent's order or what, Ramdas was completely devoted to Luke, giving him whatever he wanted and always keeping an eye on the boy. Then there was Pere, the gardener who always had a kind word for Luke, and swore his flowers were devoted to Luke, as well as the rest of the Fabres.

"I…guess you're right, Master. I do have lots of people who care. I don't really need to impress anyone…do I?"

"Well, it's not as important as you seem to think. Don't worry about what others think of you, is more or less what I'm trying to say. Not everyone's opinion is important. And Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"Please do me a favor. Keep that innocence you have. People mistake it for ignorance, but I think that what your kidnapping has truly done for you is give you honesty, and taken asinine thoughts and learnings from your mind. It's like giving you a clean slate…don't let it be cluttered again."

"Um…okay."

Luke obviously didn't get what Van meant by innocence. He doubted he was in any way innocent at all…but if that's what his master wanted, then that's what Luke would give him.

"Good. Now why don't you come on back? The others are worried about you, and besides, I have a present to give you for your birthday."

At that, all the heavy thoughts were swept from Luke's mind.

"A present?! Cool!" he cried. "Let's go!"

Van chuckled, then turned to lead the way back to the manor, followed closely by an energetic and happy young redhead noble.

R & R please.