Chapter 1

From the very first day, her parents could tell that there was something different about her. She rarely cried and was quite pleasant for a newborn. At age four, she cheerfully asked her parents if she could help them in the family-owned dress shop, surprising them. On the busiest days, she never complained, and when her parents became weary and discouraged, she provided entertainment and light to what might have been a dull and dark day for them. On the day her mother decided to teach her how to sew, the six year old child had pricked her finger with the needle. Though the puncture wound had been quite deep and blood had dripped onto the white, cotton fabric she had been stitching, the young girl didn't complain.

"I'll be okay, Mommy" she had said, smiling through the tears that welled up in her eyes. "It doesn't really hurt a lot."

Well, the child had been so brave that the mother and father became scared for their daughter. The fact that she could be so could be so strong in a situation that would have left most children in tears worried them. They didn't want her to be taken advantage of. So instead, they protected her at all costs, keeping her inside as much as possible. Besides, she was the light of their world, exuding a calming and positive aura. Though they were not wealthy, they made sure that she never wanted.

Despite the light of joy that resided there, tragedy could not be kept away from the happy dress shop for long. When the young girl turned fourteen, her father left his wife and daughter to sail across the country to pick up a new order of fabric. A storm hit the ship, and all lives were lost. Devastated, the mother and child mourned the loss of their household leader, but life continued on as normal. Not two years later, however, the mother fell ill. For several days, she laid in bed as she suffered severe coughs and her entire body was drenched in a fevered sweat. With her only remaining parent at death's doorstep, the poor girl was desperate. Pleading aloud, she cried out to anyone or anything that might be listening, begging for help. She wasn't ready to give up her mother; not yet, at least.

Not a second after the last echoes of her plea dissipated into the air, but a blinding light enveloped her entirely. Seemingly out of nowhere, a card had appeared in front of the girl, pronouncing itself to be "the nineteenth card, Il Sole" It asked her if she were willing to make a contract with it, telling her that in doing so, it would ensure her mother's recovery. Not knowing what else to do, and being so overcome with and panic for her mother's life, she agreed to the proposal without questioning the implications or giving anything a second thought. As she reached out to touch the card, a vibrant hot pain shot through her being. Only a solitary tear slipped down her cheek as she gritted her teeth against the engulfing agony.

When the light faded away, the girl watched as her mother sat up without assistance for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. The sickness, which had kept her bedridden for so long, had somehow miraculously disappeared. Almost instantly forgetting the pain she had jut been through, the girl threw her arms around her mother's neck as her tears flowed freely down her face, grateful to have her mother back.

However, a mark was engraved on the inside of the girl's right wrist that day. No matter how much she washed it – scrubbed at it – the mark remained permanent on her wrist. Finally, a month after the ordeal, the girl told her mother the entire story. The mother instantly grew cold and promptly ordered her to avoid the aristocracy at all costs. Then softening her voice, she told her daughter that she just couldn't imagine life without her little drop of sunshine. She couldn't bear the thought of losing her. And so, the obedient daughter did as she was told: she stayed away from the wealthy and she kept to herself.

Jolly stood in the shadows of the Arcana's stadium, coolly surveying the energetic audience. He had refused to participate in the Duello with the excuse that marriage to Mondo's daughter did not interest him in the slightest and that he didn't desire the title of "Papa". In reality, however, he just didn't want to fight.

The cheering from the crowd rose in volume, and Jolly shook his head. Wretched people; they find entertainment and joy in such ridiculous things, he thought. Jolly watched as Luca, Pace, and Debito fought one another. A wry smile crossed his lips as he pondered over the idea of how truly amazing it was that such close friends could turn on one another when it came to the sole purpose of winning.

Jolly's eyes drifted over the crowd, and from what seemed to be a sudden shift in energy, his gaze focused on a girl – well, woman – who was wearing a blindingly white dress. He squinted through his sunglasses and was amazed to see that her eyes were abnormally wide. With a smirk, he began to wonder if they would pop out of her skull. He watched as a the crowd roared and a hand flew up to her mouth in delighted surprise and fear, causing him to almost laugh. It was quite obvious that she didn't get out much.

Taking a quick scan of her features, Jolly noticed that the woman had a reddish brown hue in her hair, which was an almost unrealistic contrast against her very porcelain skin. Those eyes which had been bugging out shimmered a fiery red and orange. A brief smile flickered across his lips. He could tell that those eyes were key to her seemingly expressive personality.

The sun's rays intensified as the day wore on, though Jolly couldn't seem to take his attention off of this intriguing stranger. She showed every emotion she felt in her face; she was practically an open book. She lifted up her right arm to shield her eyes from the sun, and Jolly blinked in surprise. There, on her right wrist, was a sunshine stigmata. He couldn't believe; how could someone outside of the Arcana be host to a Tar-Rocco card?

The woman dropped her arm to clap, leaving Jolly at a standstill. Had he actually seen the Il Sole's mark on her, or had that been his imagination? Who was this woman, and what did she have to do with the Tar-Rocco cards? To him, she didn't seem aware that she possessed even the slightest bit of supernatural abilities. He shook his head, marveling at the entire state of affairs. He would have to speak with Mondo, that much was certain. But that conversation would have to wait until after the Duello. What could he do now, without having the authority given from Papa?

He was reeling. This was his polar opposite, The Sun. How could his opposite attract him so much? What was it about this woman that had caught his eye again? Despite himself, he chuckled softly to himself. It was her own, flaming reddish orange eyes. That fiery spirit underneath that innocent-looking exterior. He knew it was there – he could almost feel it, even from the distance that he stood.

As he took a long drag off of his cigar, Jolly scanned the crowd to find the young lady. The sun had begun its descent, and Nova and Libertà were beginning their match. However, the mysterious woman had vanished. Jolly almost choked on the smoke that was filling his lungs, and he quickly tried to regain his cool demeanor while he simulatonesly searched the stands to no avail.

Taking a deep breath and putting out his cigar by pressing it against the brick wall next to him, Jolly left the arena and began to walk around the perimeter, trying to catch sight of—He stopped and a slow, sly smile crept over his lips. There she was, not too far off. He almost laughed aloud; for looking like such a spit-fire, she was definitely much shorter than he would have guessed. She couldn't be more than one hundred and fifty eight centimeters tall. It wasn't at all difficult for him to catch up.

"Excuse me" he asked, raising his voice as he approached her to ensure that she'd hear him. He watched as her back stiffened, and then she whirled around to face him. As expected, those intriguingly large and expressive eyes stared back at him with surprise, and he couldn't ignore the fact that her cheeks had gone a soft shade of pink.

"Yes?" Her voice was confident, and Jolly stood a little taller. She was bold and she was direct. He liked that. She wasn't scared even the tiniest bit.

"Might I have a word?"

"About?" She raised an eyebrow. He did the same, displaying a cool and confident smile on his face.

"I only desire your name, M'Lady."

"Beg pardon?" Her other eyebrow went up.

"Your name, please."

"Ah, yes. My apologizes." Jolly watched as she gave him a calculating once-over. It wasn't anything to do with flirtation, however. It was obvious that she was determining how dependable he was.

"My name is Allegra" she finally said, looking directly into his sunglass-covered eyes. "And yours?"

"Where is the easiest place to locate you, Miss Allegra?" He asked, completely disregarding her question.

"A small dress shop on the north side of town" she responded slowly. "Now, you never answered my question, Sir. What is your-"

He cut her off. "No need for that." Allegra's eyes flashed, and he couldn't help the smirk that appeared on his face.

"Then I believe that's all then?" Her voice was clipped. The annoyance in her words were unmistakable.

"No, I don't believe so. I have one more request, Miss Allegra."

"I'm sorry Sir, but I will not be obliging you anymore. I do not make it a habit of mine to speak with strange men who will not so much as tell me their names." Jolly sighed, his amusement slowly turning to irritation. He liked her pluck, but it was now simply getting out of hand.

"M'Lady, you may call me Jolly. Now, will you show me your right wrist?"

"My right…" He could see the comprehension dawn on her face, and was then dismayed when he saw the guardedness fill her features.

"I'm sorry, that's not a request I can fulfill."

He narrowed his eyes. "I did as you asked and gave you my name. You could, at the very least, follow through with your end of the deal."

"I made no such deal" she said. "And you already know enough about me. Farewell." And with that, she turned her back on him and walked away. Flabbergasted, all he could do was watch as her small, lithe body travelled across the countryside and into the city. Had she really just turned her back on him, Jolly and second in command in the Arcana Famigilia? That same, odd smile came back to his lips. Now he knew he had to find her again and bring her back to join the Arcana's ranks. Turning her back on him? An act like that deserved punishment – something he wasn't loathed to give.

*Jul. 2, 2016* The chapter above is a re-write from when this story was first published.

Review the crap out of this please! I really enjoy hearing your guys' thoughts and opinions on the story and their characters.

~Melissa-Disney99