Shadow Scales

Chapter 2- On the back of a wagon (Introduction Part II)

"…I will hurt you for this. I don't know how yet, but give me time. A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth; and you'll know the debt is paid."- George R.R Martin

At first the boy didn't know why he was awoken from his dreams, the visions of splendour and absolute freedom, twisting into unfamiliar images of behemoths spewing flame. His bedtime reveries started as they always did, with his small frame perched on the back of a dragon, awed fingers dancing over the ridges of glistening, asphalt scales. They were gliding through the sky; the gusts of air causing his nightshirt to bellow and twirl behind him, whilst pleased, little laughs bubbled up from his throat. After a while the beast then started to slow the beating of its wings, before it looped down, kicking up moist earth once they were low enough for its claws to graze the ground. Surveying their new surroundings curiously, Ciel tightened his hold on his dragon steed, somewhat perturbed by the sudden change of course and temperament. The air circling the terra firma was infinitely stuffier without the cool breeze preventing his strands from sticking to his cheeks. Moreover, the temperatures continued to soar as they sailed further across the terrain, the balminess causing the boy to shift uncomfortably within his saddle and the reigns to slip from his sweaty palms. The dragon in turn seemed utterly oblivious to the change, attention firmly set on a Silver Nut tree sprouting from the hill ahead. Before they could reach the dragon's destination, the ground below them started to crack and crumble; scabbed limbs pushing their way through the damp, earth crust. Panicking at the strange sight, Ciel's fingers abandoned the leads as he surged forward, grappling onto the spiralled, black horns budding from either side of the beast's head.

"Up! Go up!" At the insistent tugs and firm hisses, a low rumbling resounded within the dragon's underbelly; causing its black scales to smoulder red, before a torrent of flames were respired towards the Wyverns. Pained screeches followed suite, causing the young Aristocrat's breath to hitch, whilst his small shoulders quivered into a set of dry coughs. With blurred orbs the boy tried to glance back at what remained of the creatures, but the billows of smoke made it hard to breathe properly, much less the irate dragon's flames continued to dance across the landscape, consuming all within reach, the air become all the harder for the child to swallow. Raising a hand to wipe the perspiration from his brow, Ciel wished that he could once again feel the cool caress of the wind upon his flushed face. But with only one hand securing his perch, the boy quickly discarded his yearnings as he felt himself slipping from the beast's back, his sleek fingers unable to grasp for the leather straps.

With his arms flailing wildly the boy tried to steady himself, his alarmed cry erupting into another set of cloying coughs. It wasn't until the urgent murmur of 'young Master' infiltrated his subconscious and a sure lack of impact that Ciel dared to open his eyes again; noticing with some relief that he was still within his bedchamber, creased sheets pooled around his waist. Beside him, the Phantomhive butler stood fiddling with the curtains, a wet cloth pressed over both his nose and mouth. Urging his breathing to even out, Ciel remarked that although his room lacked a dragon, it certainly was not without the blistering heat that accompanied his dream world.

Frowning deftly, the noble kicked his blankets aside, before crawling off of his mattress. "Old man, it's still dark. What are you doing here and why is it so hot?" The butler did not respond at first, his attention solely on the now open window and the grounds that lay beyond. After a terse pause, Tanaka turned to his young charge with renewed earnestness and a strange gleam reflected within his aged hues. "Young Master, I know this must be terribly strange to you, but we do not have much time." Tanaka then swooped forward, begloved palms pressing into the child's shoulders, effectively rooting him in place. "I fear the manor's security has been compromised. I do not know how or by whom, I only know that we must get you to immediate safety, as per your father's request. If you would be so kind as to follow me." As expected, Ciel immediately started to squirm within the retainer's grip; wide, cerulean orbs darting towards his chamber door were thin trails of smoke already leached in from underneath the doorsill. "What about Mother and Father? If something is wrong we need to get them too!" Tanaka merely shook his head, his grip tightening once the boy started to tug his small frame towards the door. "I beg your pardon, young Master, but we haven't the time to dawdle. This is not a game and you are the one of most import." Swallowing the bitter lump that started to lodge within his throat, the butler lifted the child right off his feet, ignoring the faint twinge within his bones as Ciel started to kick and struggle against him. "No, No! Unhand me at once!" Not bothering with his usual polite retort, the servant eased the wriggling body out of the window and onto the shingles below, the dull 'clunk' of his dress shoes following after. The young Phantomhive's lungs burned as he sucked in huffs of crisp air, his brow furrowed upon noticing the black puffs pouring from the lower windows. 'More smoke? Why would there be more smoke?' Tanaka scarcely gave him a chance to address the issue as he urged his charge toward the roof's edge, his breath raspy from where he hovered over the younger. "I know you must be confused and rightly terrified, but I need you to be brave in this instant. You must jump onto the terrace down below." Peering timidly over the edge, Ciel instantly felt his lower lip tremble, heart clenching in fear of the distance and all out uncertainty of the situation. "I—I can't. You know it's too far." Orbs softening at the tremor he detected within the boy's voice, Tanaka shifted to rest his palm on top of the boy's locks, all the while conscious of the threat prowling the grounds below. "Come now, young Master. What is the guestroom balcony, likened to the height of the heavens? I am right behind you, as always."

Ciel blinked furiously at the tears threatening to cloud his vision, his lip still quivering as he eased off of the edge via his stomach. Tanaka had a sturdy hold on both of his thin wrists, seeking to ease his tumble by lowering him further, if only marginally. Yet even with the servant's assistance, the fall onto the terrace proved a hard one, grazing both of the boy's knees and chin. Pushing back onto his feet, Ciel barely managed to choke back a sob as flecks of orange and red invaded his vision; overriding all traces of discomfort and pain. The instant the retainer landed beside him with a laboured gruff, barely steadying himself on the wooden lattice; he motioned for the boy to move away from the glass doors. "A shame I'm not as young as I used to be. Come, we must make our way down the trellis, across the grounds and into the forest." Ciel ignored the winded man however, hues firmly fixed on the destruction consuming the entirety of the bedroom and what he assumed to be the rest of his home. "M-Mother and Father, they're not still in there are they? Tanaka?" Wounding his arms about the boy's middle, the butler quickly swivelled them around, compelling the child to step onto the wooden structure. "Not now, Master Ciel. We have to climb, for their sake as well as ours. Climb." Tears now trailing in sticky rivulets down his cheeks, Ciel started to make his way down the lattice, the thorns from the Golden Showers, grazing his legs and arms and nicking his, crinkled sleepwear. Once his bare feet touched the grass, Ciel stepped back to wipe his hands across his face, the old retainer halfway in his decent. He could not understand what was happening. Where were his parents? Where they waiting for them inside the forest? Why was the manor on fire; maybe one of the servants had an accident? The servants. Where were the other servants?

Ciel was yanked from his tangled web of thoughts by an inhuman shriek resounding from his right, the sound eerily familiar to the cry the scabbed limbs made within his dream. Swerving to the side, the noble felt his gut twist up even further, the small tinge of colour left within his visage draining away at the appearance of the dribbling fiend. If Ciel did not know any better, he might have mistaken it for his favourite, mythical beings. Like dragons this beast had a body decked in scales; the colour a murky, swamp green within the faint glimmer of the moon. One pair of wings bulged from either side, whilst a single arrow-shaped tail flicked coyly back and forth, forever the smug hunter ready to pounce. The creature had no front claws to speak of, nor horns or spikes to armour his body and when he sucked in a breath, it was not a torrent of flames that heaved from the creature's maw, but a stream of black sludge that caused everything it touched to sizzle; before dissolving it into naught but a sickly puddle. Peering up at the creature he surmised to be an actual Wyvern, immortal enemy of both dragons and men, Ciel felt his lean legs sway and his heart fluctuate; his mouth completely devoid of any spit. He wanted to cry out, to blink, but his mind and body was completely frozen in place, watching the Wyvern in fear as it continued to slobber and each lift of its legs closing the distance between them.

As the Wyvern unhinged its mandible to emit another flow of toxic sludge, there was the tell-tale click of a loadstone sliding into place, before all the particles of magic started to fizzle within the air. Turning his head to the lattice, Ciel watched as Tanaka pulled the trigger of a weapon identical to the one his Father kept above the parlour fireplace, a bright blue blast of enchanted energy rocketing towards the creature, blasting it onto its back. "Young Master! I'm afraid this calibre of a weapon will merely stun the creatures. You must run!" Ciel's finger's coiled into a fist, the salty tears running anew as the little Lord managed to ground out a whine. "Don't be stupid old man, I can't leave you too!" Tanaka paused in reloading the weapon, the faintest of smiles quirking at the corners of his mouth. "Young Master, what an absurd thing to say." Quickly altering his hold on his weapon, the servant shifted to rummage through the folds of his livery. When he finally clasped onto one of his dearest of possessions, he held it firmly between soot-dabbled fingers, savouring the familiar tick-tocking for but a moment. Once satisfied (the sound forever ingrained within the crevices of his mind) he hurled the silver trinket towards his indignant, young charge; whom with a gasp and fumbling fingers managed to catch it just before it ploughed into the dirt. "You won't be leaving me. You will purely aid me in my task of giving you a head start. On you go!" Choking on words of refusal, the boy quickly turned on his heel, willing his burning legs to work. Ciel sped down the vast expanse of lawn on many summer days, the warmth of Elizabeth's jubilant giggle echoing behind him, merged with the eager applause of Aunt Anne who gazed tenderly at them from underneath the brim of her hat. Now the only sounds Ciel could distinguish were the hammering of his heart and the definite fizzle of magic particles as Tanaka released the trigger for a second time.

The fire crackled genially within the small camp, illuminating the rough faces of the men huddled around it. The leader of the band had a cigarette tucked between his teeth, a nasty scar extending across his forehead and over the bridge of his nose. His hair was slicked back from his angular face, the multiple rings piercing his lobes suggesting that he was not of this region, but rather a Carny under the influence of the feared Ferro family. Said clan could only be described as die-hard opportunists, not partaking in the war efforts, but definitely profiting from all of the unnecessary blood-shed. The Ferros' various associates dealt in all aberrant acts; from distributing narcotics, particle weaponry and intel, to pilfering the Order's warehouses for supplies. What set the Ferro family apart from the many felons lurking about the London underground however; was their hand within the body trade- a nasty business were the forms of those who had the slightest bit of magical potential, were sold off to the highest bidder. The Order itself has been trying to disperse of the trade for quite some time, but with paltry success. Since resources were stretched severely thin due to the increase in Wyvern activity within the Northern Isles, there were just not enough eyes to pinpoint the Carnies' ever-changing locations.

It was with the sole intent of making a hefty profit that said particular band was stationed within the clearing, their sources having reported a hoard of Wyverns roving the area. As terrifying and ferocious as the winged beasts were, they also stunk of coin. Many apothecaries and avid collectors were eager as to get their hands on the rough scabs or a small sample of the beasts' simmering venom, but not brave enough as to stun the creatures themselves. It was for this cause alone that Azzurro Vanel risked the hide of his lackeys and that of his own by venturing onto the border signalling the Catalan territories. Sucking avidly on the Tabaco stick, Vanel stood, a rough boot coming to rest against a stuffed crate. "Alright you useless curs, make sure the wagons are secure and that the Capsicum shells are in place. I don't want to be caught off guard by a vengeful mass of lizards coming up from behind!" The order was followed by a collective "Yessir!" before some of the flunkies surged to their feet, eager to fortify their recent pillage. Vanel peered at them with a condescending smirk forming around the bud of his cigarette, blunt nails brushing against his breast pocket in timely strokes. He was pleased with the night's events, for not only did he and his men manage to stun two of the rowdy creatures; but the band also succeeded in gathering a barrel of scabs and four vials of Wyvern gunk, a paragon plunder that would not have been possible if the rest of the reptiles were not so preoccupied with the unceasing, swirls of smoke wafting up passed the treetops.

Following the dark puffs with the curious narrow of his eyes, Vanel briefly wondered who he had to thank for the small stroke of fortune, before his interest was quickly pulled to his left; the faint rustling of leaves and the ricochet of twigs snapping causing all of the Carnies to drop what they were doing; tanned, grimy hands reaching for their weapons in tandem. Aiming their arms at the surrounding greenery, the men was more than surprised when an unknown body suddenly broke through the shrubbery, toppling into their encampment like a wound-up doll who had reached the end of its coil. Being the first of the crooks to recover from his initial alarm, Vanel spat what remained of his roll-up on the ground, before lowering his boot from its perch. "What the…hell…?"

From his vantage point the little interloper could be naught but a child, a datum that was soon verified as the body eased onto its knees, small arms shifting to poke at his tender side. The child was clad in naught but a stained nightshirt, the fabric clinging to his heaving frame like a second skin. But even with the splotches of grime and blood crusted into the fabric, the keen eyes of a Ferro kinsman could detect the superior quality of silk. My, oh my. His lucky streak has yet to end, it would seem. Shifting closer to their unexpected guest, the carny's shark-like grin slipped back in place once boy's head snapped up, red-rimmed hues widening, before he tried to scramble onto the pads of his feet. "It looks like the Golden Goose just landed within our laps boys. 'Tis night is truly ours!" A boom of raucous laughter parroted Vanel's statement, the men at ease once more, before two of the felons appeared behind the youth, hastily lifting him from the ground. Having been in this line of work since he was but a wee lad, Vanel knew a rare probability when he saw one, thus, if it was not for the costly garment, the boy's unusually, dainty features would serve as the telling precursor. He was of noble decent and if some blue blood festered through his young veins, then the delicious probability for magic festered as well. Pausing in front of his struggling captive, the carny continued to inspect the boy, surmising that he was likely fleeing from the Wyverns, hence his current state of dress and anxiety. Leaning forward, his ringed fingers clasped onto the bleeding chin with some force, causing the child to wince as two petrified pools locked onto his own. "Now then, little duckling, do you have a name?"

Ciel refused to answer, or rather he couldn't, his tongue too arid and his mind completely numb with fatigue. He was sure, so sure that the firelight he saw glinting through the foliage was his parents, eagerly awaiting him and the old man; and if by some chance it wasn't them, then surely it was the Order. Now, sweeping his burning hues over the gruff faces of his audience, the young aristocrat could not help but start his squirming afresh, thin arms and legs screaming at the movement. These were not soldiers. They were not even here to help him, he had to get away! At the show of childlike defiance, Azzurro Vanel exhaled a raspy chuckle, relinquishing his hold on his little prize. "No? That's just as well then. You won't need a name where you're going son." The carny chuckled o'er as he gestured towards the tan men holding Ciel in place. "Tie him up and toss him in the wagon with the rest of the goods. We leave at dawn." He then moved to the side, fully intent on lighting up another tobacco stick when his sharp hues sighted the faint shimmer of polished metal imbedded in the dirt. Smirking keenly, Vanel scooped up the trinket, revelling in the graciousness of Lady Luck, his luck, once more.

Note: Phew! Welcome back to Shadow Scales! I would like to start off this note by saying thank you to each and every one who took the time to read the first instalment. Based on the word count, this one might be a *tad* longer than the first, but only because I am so very impatient for all of you to get to the good parts! I would be lying if I said I didn't have some trouble typing the parts of the young Master, since I wanted him to be both the coddled, little boy he was before the contract, coupled with some traces of his intelligence and much loved haughty quirks. A tall order, but I assure you, you will see more of Ciel's "Cielness" as the story moves along and he meets up with his contractor. With that said, I think you will all be pleased to know that the next chapter introduces Sebastian the Sly (properly at least) and will move more in the direction of the actual plot. Vanel is not an OC, he is the Italian mafia member who kidnapped Ciel in the first chapter. Yeah, remember him? Lastly note that the quote used in the beginning is from 'A clash of Kings' and so terribly akin to Ciel I could not resist. Don't forget to hit me up if you have any questions! Until next chapter.

Thank you for reading.

CN