Trinity Blood it's characters and stories are owned by Sunao Yoshida and partners. Author makes no claim upon them. Only original characters are claimed. This is for enertainment purposes only.

Guardian of Secrets

Part I

In the beginning man created God and God was alone. In his infinite vanity man came to believe he was God and as such decided to create gods on earth to end his loneliness...

I remember and in memories touch a love seared in the flames of time. Sorrow and joy fulfilled me. Love and hate surrounded me; but it was the pain and blood that forged me. It gave me a will to survive that no power on earth or beyond could rend from my spirit. Honing me for the wars in which I would take up arms. The battles I would fight; were fighting now. For I was facing the greatest challenge one could contend with; that of my life. I knew this as I floated on the waves of my memories, trying to stay just above the agony that suffused my body. Praying to stay disconnected. I could hear my loved ones calling to me, begging me to wake. One voice was that of a young girl and the other the deep masculine voice of a man. I wanted to comfort them. Tell them I would fight to the very last, but I feared leaving my detachment. Instead I delved deeper into my memories slipping away from all consciousness and letting the darkness lead my reminiscence.

The earliest recollection I had was when I was a two years old. It was then I first saw the boy with the sad eyes. I had been napping as all toddlers do when I was picked up into unfamiliar arms. Awakening, I looked into the most sorrowful deep blue eyes I'd ever seen. So deeply did it affect me that my childish brain ingrained the memory deep into my soul.

"Abel, this is my daughter, Genevie." The resonant voice of my father whispered. "She is very special and I would like you to meet her."

"She is very beautiful, Professor." the boy replied looking closely at me.

They continued to talk but my attention was on the boy. I felt the urge to make him smile; for just a while make him forget the sadness reflected in his eyes. Although my little brain did not understand the reasoning, the compulsion was upon me. With youthful innocence I raised a pudgy hand to his face. Laying it gently to his cheek I looked into his eyes and cooed softly. As his expression softened I began to smile and giggle. As a smile began to cross his lips I squealed in excitement. A light entered his gaze as he grinned.

"I think she likes you, son." My father laughed.

"So it would seem, Sir." Abel responded.

I made up my little mind at that point. This boy was mine. With the possessiveness of childhood I would not share him. I memorized his angelic face, the silvery white hair and the comforting smell of his skin. As my father placed me back in the crib, he watched me curiously. Looking back with adult wisdom, I imagine Abel was not just interested in me; but in the loving way my father handled me. One could not miss the longing in his eyes and later I came to realize that my father was the only person to ever show the boy kindness. At that time though, all I could think as my father led the boy from my room was that I would make him a special part of my life.

The years past and I grew as all children do. Abel became like a rare treat for me, one that was not often forthcoming, but when received, was savored and cherished. Holidays were usually the time he would come home with my father. My mother was the first to observe that as a holiday drew near I began to get increasingly anxious. Patiently I would wait at the window day after day ignoring my toys, my brothers, even my dinner waiting for the sound of my father returning. After each disappointment, it was she who would wipe my silent tears away and rock me gently to sleep.

"Francis," I heard her whisper to my father one night, "I don't know what to do for the poor child. She's only five and yet she has already figured out when you bring the boy home. It's heart wrenching to watch her waiting for him. She suffers each time you come home alone."

"It's the separation anxiety." He replied, "I did not think it would develop until she reached puberty; but this is new scientific territory. I've been in contact with the other research teams. We don't know what the Nightlords are capable of yet, so it is quite possible my theories on their development may be flawed. We will have to watch closely and see what comes of this."

"But she is only a child…our child. Is there nothing we can do for her? She is not one of them. Well not entirely…."

Their voices trailed away into the night. I wondered just what puberty was and if it made Abel visit sooner how could I get it? Hearing my parents talk just confused me and created more questions than answers. That is the folly of childhood; not having the ability to understand all the subtle nuances of life. Still after that night, my mother gave me a calendar that marked the times Abel would come to stay with us. Each day we would cross off a date much to my elder brother's amusement.

"You're a little young to have a boyfriend, princess." he laughingly chided.

"Shoo!" my mother replied, "Behave you. Abel is just her friend; a special playmate."

"Give them about 10 years and we'll see how special their playing is!"

"Brendan!" Mother would scold. "Don't you talk about your sister that way! Really, just because your hormones are raging!"

"Yes, well, don't worry' he smiled, "Gennie will probably drive the poor boy crazy long before it reaches that point; She follows him like a lost puppy dog"

As was usual when my family spoke of matters I did not understand I took refuge in my daydreams. Dreams filled with Abel. Finally a day would come marking one of his visits. It was usually dark when father came home and I would already be abed. Upon hearing Abel's soft voice I would grab the sides of my bed and begin to call loudly and repetitiously: "Ab! Ab!" The shouting for him would continue even as footsteps came up the stairs. I did not quit until his beloved face peeked through the door. Then as he stepped into the room grinning I would hold out my arms to be held. He always picked me up gently and tucked me securely in his embrace. Lying against him I listened to his heart beat and soon mine would beat in cadence.

"Genevie, did you miss me?" He would whisper brushing his lips against my brow.

"Abel." I'd sigh stroking his cheek.

He'd carry me down the stairs into the family room. There he'd hand me to my father who would swing me high into the air and hug me tight. Laughing, my father always pretended to trip and we'd fall to the floor amid gales of mirth. Meanwhile, mother would fuss over Abel and settle him in her large rocking chair with a cup of very sweet tea. As soon as he finished she'd affectionately ruffle his hair and take his empty cup away. My parents would quietly go out to the kitchen and leave us alone for a time. It was then that I would crawl into Abel's lap. He would pull me close and we listened in silence to the soft creaking of the rocker. Soon the gentle motion would lull our bruised hearts into forgetful sleep.

"Genevie." A mans voice pulled me from my memories, "You must hold on!"

All around me were the sounds of medical alarms. The cacophony penetrated my dreams pulling me from them. I didn't want this! I wanted to be back at home snuggled deep in my mother's rocker with Abel. Instead agony dug its claws deep into my flesh as fire raced through my veins. The pain was excruciating and I had no way to escape. My body was not under my control so all I could do was lie in darkness unresponsive. People were rushing around me and I could feel their hands upon my body. The voice that I had heard speak to me was shouting orders to others.

"Gennie, don't you die on me!" He stopped to whisper.

"Someone go get Her Majesty…NOW!" Another voice bellowed.

"She's crashing." A woman shouted.

All the noise was making blades pierce through my head. Someone near was screaming hoarsely and that added to my misery. I wished they would leave me and attend to the poor soul. As I thought this, gentle hands began to wipe a cool cloth against my brow and a soft voice spoke soothingly to me. It was then I realized I was the one crying out.

"God, I don't understand this." The man spoke again. His voice reminded me of dark chocolate "What the hell is happening to her?"

A hand pried open my eyes and for the first time I was able to look up. That was until they shone a bright light into them causing the knives to renew their assault. With great effort I managed to shift my head slightly away from the light. Quickly it retreated and was replaced by a face. The hair of the man matched his chocolate voice; his eyes thought were a startling grey. Something tugged at my memory but I could not grasp it. This man knew me but I could not place him. I watched as he realized my confusion. Closing his eyes tears slowly tracked a path down his cheeks.

"She is coming around." He said to the others, "Lets get some pain killers into her."

A syringe was placed in his hands and he filled it with a red liquid. After checking the dose he leaned over and I felt the prick of it entering my vein. A strange lethargy came over me as it took effect. Nurses and doctors still scrambled around checking various machines that were hooked up to me.

"She seems to be stabilizing Dr Sinclair." A nurse said as she handed him a chart. "We administered 320cc of adrenaline directly to the heart 15 minutes ago per your order."

"Good" He murmured looking over the chart. "That much would have normally killed her. This is amazing! Are you sure these readings are accurate?"

He didn't wait for and answer but turned back to me. Smiling softly he leaned close. Again with the light to my eyes. I would have bit him if I could. He seemed to understand and chuckled.

"Glad to see some of your fire return." He grinned then sobered, "Gennie, I don't suppose you remember what happened to you?"

I tried to shake my head to the negative but found myself unable to move again. Tears coursed down my cheek as the pain once again began to intensify. Like a child unable to express itself in any other way I began to scream once more in agony. Again I watch as the red liquid was administered and the pain subsided.

"Gennie, I'm Dr. Julian Sinclair. I've been taking care of you since we found you. You sustained enormous amounts of trauma. The damage to you was incredible. We've had you in stasis to support your body's healing abilities. About an hour ago you began to go into cardiac arrest. I had to pull you out of your induced coma. Do you understand? Blink once for yes."

Obediently I blinked. I understood I'd been hurt. I didn't remember why or how.

"Genevie, once you're completely stable I'm going to operate and try to repair some of the more extensive internal injuries. Then I'll put you back in stasis. Understand?"

Again I blinked. What in the world had happened? Images floated just beyond my comprehension. I tried hard to recall what had happened but the only thing I got for my effort was more pain.

"I'm so sorry, Gennie…first your brother then your half sister. Now you're broken. When I think what would have happened if Seth hadn't found you. Well it makes me crazy!"

Brother? Sister? Suddenly the images hit me like a bullet. A man lying crushed under girders. A young man laid to rest in a coffin. A faceless woman in a spreading pool of blood. White wings? Red eyes and golden hair. Shouting and rage. Then fear and pain. Humiliation and degradation. I wailed in anguish. I wanted the pictures in my mind to go away!

"Make it STOP!" I bellowed startling those around me.

"What's going on?" I heard a young girl ask.

"It's the Empress!" I heard voices whisper.

A young woman entered my line of sight. I caught a glimpse bright green eyes and black hair. Alarms began to sound off again and I felt the blessed darkness reach out for me again. My body, to protect my sanity was pushing me back into oblivion. Gladly I embraced the void. Abel would be there and I could retreat once more into my past. The last thing I heard was the young girl calling frantically to me….