No Flaws when your Pretending • • •

The winter wind swirled hard around the secluded wing of the manor before stopping to rest at the doorway into a lamp-lit room. As the pained cries of a young woman hit the air, it sang with her, swirling around and blessing the babe she was conceiving. The dance it was preforming came to an abrubt stop as the young woman's cries stilled, teasing the moonless midnight air. There was no sound from either man nor beast as the silence began to turn to tension. All breath was released as a strangled cry tested the air before turning into a shrill, demonic scream before all went quiet again, and the newborn babe's gentle rhythmical breathing could be heard. None rejoiced at the birth of the heiress, because on her body were the markings of the crescent moon that now suddenly began to creep from behind the clouds in the night sky. The mistress of the clan choked a single command as her baby was wrapped in black, and her daughter was handed to her by her husband.

"The daughter of the crescent." the woman paused in her speech to brush a flaming lock of bright orange hair from the babe's pale face. "The blood of my great grandmother runs strong in her. Nothing but disaster can come to this clan now." that was the last of her words as sleep claimed her, her eyes fluttering closed. The babe did not make a sound as she was taken from her mothers arms to be held flush against the breast of her father. He looked, worried to his wife's sister, who had also preformed the birth. "What does this mean, Olivia?" he choked out, clutching the baby slightly tighter to his chest. The woman hung her head, long citrus hair falling into her face as her bright green eyes directed themselves to the floor. "That the shadows will consume her."

He had dismissed it for so long. It had seemed like forever since the birth of his young daughter. A moon's cycle had passed, and he had forgotten the curse the young babe was born with. However, something so great is not so easily dismissed, and so it had been much meditating on his part. It made no matter to him as he opened the door to the room he had for so long shared with his wife. Upon his entrance, she looked up from the seat she had taken on the soft padding of the large canopy bed to smile at him. Clutched to her chest was the babe she had delivered a mere month ago only, whom was already suckling from her mothers breast with small sounds as she clutched the fabric of her mother's robes with small hands. "She is so beautiful, is she not Aaron..?" the infatuated mistress asked, cradling the baby as she rocked back and forth lightly. Her husband moved to join her on the bed, his hand brushing a stray strand from the worn face of his childhood sweetheart. "Sanna, you look so worn. It as if young Naomi has been draining the color from your beautiful face. Do you feel well, my dear...?" his voice held worry for not only his wife, but his daughter as well. The answer to his questions were usually the same. Sanna would give her husband a reprehensible glance before locking her eyes on the babe she was so much in love with. "The young one could do no evil such as that, Aaron. Have you no shame..?" it was a nonexistent cold tone that poured from her lips, her eyes never leaving the child. It was a pitiful sight to see. It was almost as if the demon child had her own mother under a spell that was turning the once gentle woman against her very own people, her very own husband. Aaron was taken aback at the forwardness of his wife, and as the babe pulled away from her breast and began to cry, Aaron couldn't help but swear the air around him had gotten thicker. Sanna didn't notice, she was too busy cooing over the babe, running her hand through the already shoulder-length citrus hair that matched her own.

Shaking his head, Aaron stood and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him and not paying much attention to Sanna as her low voice reached his sensitive ears. Rubbing a hand over his eyes he stepped around a maid and into the main chamber where his ten year old son was sitting, playing a board-game with his aunt. "I fear for that woman, Oliva." he muttered, sitting down next to the two and staring deeply at the board. Blinking a few times, the maiden looked up from her seat across from Yukshudo. "Sanna hasn't been herself latley. It's as if the babe is all she can think about." she retorted with a sigh as the young boy moved and took several of her pieces. "Your consentration is slipping." he muttered, his eyes briefly moving to look at his father. He raised an eyebrow and looked back toward the sleeping hall with his compainions as Naomi's demonic shreak could be heard as it slid along the walls. "Naomi has been spell-casting on mother. She may only be young, but her darkness is great." the boy paused when he noticed both adults were staring at him but continued on. "I can see her inner chakra and it is very strong for somebody her age. No shinobi that hasn't been trained highly in the uses of darkmatter could see it, but being the second heir, my traning is very limited to my darkness. Naomi can manulipate mine, bending me to her will, although I am strong enough to snap away, because the bond I have with her is very small. Mother, however, is deeply attatched to her, and therefore her darkness can control her however she pleases." Yukshudo shruged and dismissed himself, but stopped at the door for a moment and without looking back said, "She knows what is going on around her just as well as you or I do, Father." and left.