Disclaimer: if I owned Shadow Hearts: Covenant there would be many instants where Nicolai found himself with a shirt…

Teaser: the year is 1918 and the Romanov family is marked for death. But history can be sure what exactly happened to Anastasia Romanov

Author's Note: eh. Late. As usual. I'm used to it. Plus, you know, my state is crazy so we have school. Right now. This is my mad face. And they're not fun classes. They're Senior-this'll-make-you-look-good-for-college classes. And those are never found.

Oh yeah, stop the murder of baby seals! Anyone interested in helping our cause to stop the murder of helpless baby seals, please contact me via PM!

I'm on the soap box and you can't tear me down!

/Chapter Two: Revolution's Call/
"I said one and one is true
The Bolshevik is rising too
He looks twice and said I can identify this man
And the Czarina shook her head"
-"The Czarina Shook Her Head", Rick Masters

Saki Inugami would never admit willingly—perhaps even on the threat of death—that she was filled with worry and anxiety. She preferred her mystique of a careless widow living in a hidden village with mystic powers to peek into the future.

But, indeed, she was a woman who knew what it was to worry more than anyone.

Her life, it seemed, had been full of worry. And grief. Worry over her brother as he went overseas, and then the grief of losing him. Losing her husband and feeling as if she had lost her nephew and her sister-in-law as well.

And, of course, the all too real fear of losing her son plagued Saki daily.

With a sort of giddy fear, she remembered the day her son—her brave, beautiful boy who reminded her of his father more and more everyday—said that they would go to the Asuka Stone Platform to fight for the world in which they lived.

She had let him go, of course. She understood the importance of the battle he strove to fight. As a leader she understood the necessary risks that had to be taken to protect what she loved. As a mother, she merely wanted to clasp her boy to her bosom and beg him to stay safe and warm beside her.

As she was a leader first and foremost, though, she had thus taken a step back, bit her lip, and remained silent as her son bid her goodbye one last time.

Every day was battle to get up. She donned her dark-hued kimono and took the long journey to Sukune Fountain, bending over the rocks and peering into its mystical liquid, praying for a glimpse—all she asked was for a glimpse—on the status of her son and his friends.

The Asuka Stone Platform forbid it of her. It locked itself together and even the awesome power of the Fountain could not penetrate it and find her son. All Saki had been able to do was sit beside the Fountain for hours on end and pray constantly for a break in the barrier, all the while her mind haunting her with images of a happier time.

For a week, this ritual continued. And Saki's heart had never felt heavier in her bosom. She was a survivor, all those born from the Hyuga blood were, but the loss of her son—she knew—would break her and she would never again be whole.

It was not to say that Saki did not worry for those her dear son had traveled with. Yuri was her nephew and seeing him alive had brought her a joy she acquainted only with her brother. And Yuri's companions had made her world a little brighter as well, though there had hardly been time for her to come to know them. Gepetto, with his wise but subtle ways, Lucia, whose smile reminded Saki of herself when she had been much younger, Joachim, a lively young man Saki might have considered giving chase to had she been younger, and Blanca, who seemed to know more than anyone else in his deeply dark eyes.

Karin was never someone Saki had given worry to. Of all those who went to face Kato that day, it was Karin Saki knew would survive. Karin's destiny was something greater than anyone suspected and Saki had played a hand in it.

Years ago, as Anne Hyuga pressed a small picture of herself and her family, into Saki's hand, the younger woman hadn't understood Anne's message—"Give this back to me next time you see me"—but when Karin's eyes had fluttered across the floor of her home to meet Saki's, she had known then.

So worry for Karin Koenig never crossed Saki's mind.

If she worried for anyone as much as she worried for her son, it was perhaps the tiny woman-child Saki already accepted as her own.

Anastasia Romanov had been a welcomed presence in both Saki and Kurando's life—though, likely, Kurando was not aware of it. Saki had recognized the childish crush in Anastasia's eyes upon her awakening from Asteroth's clutches and had sensed that, with time and care, it would grow into something more.

Of course, Saki had known Kurando was oblivious to such facts. She also knew—albeit reluctantly—that she was old enough to want grandchildren and she had decided that she would have to take the necessary steps to procure, for her son, a wife.

And, of course, Anastasia had dropped right into her lap. Saki had decided, upon meeting the Romanov princess, that the young woman was a perfect match for her Kurando. Her young son tended to be too serious and solemn in most matters and she knew—especially taking into account the fact that Kurando's adulthood would be a struggle to control the demons inside him—that it would take someone of Anastasia's vigor and liveliness to keep Kurando from slipping down into the very depths of depression.

In her mind, Anastasia had been her daughter the moment she had given the young princess the autumn kimono.

It only made sense that when she bent down to peer into the Fountain to glimpse the well-being of her son, she looked for the well-being of her future daughter-in-law as well.

But in the crystalline pools of the Sukune Fountain she had garnered no glance of her son or the Russian princess. And every evening, Saki had returned to her home exhausted from peering into a smooth and ageless liquid that offered no hope to her.

A week later, Saki started her morning ritual of walking to the Fountain when, suddenly, she found herself standing before her son and the young girl he clasped tightly in his arms.

For a moment Saki had not been able to move, so overcome was she in the sheer joy of seeing her son and the young woman she named as her own once more where she felt they belonged.

And then the moment of shocked silence had been broken. Kurando had called out to her, his voice just a bit hoarse and weary, but still carrying the lit she recognized as her son's.

Without another word she embraced them, kissing both Kurando and Anastasia's hair and drowning in the feeling of holding them in her arms once more. Until that moment she had not realized how close she had been to giving up on them.

For two glorious weeks Saki had selfishly kept Kurando and Anastasia to herself, but she knew Anastasia longed to see the world without fear weighing her down and Kurando deserved to see some of it too before he was tangled up in caring for the village.

So when Anastasia had expressed a desire to see the world, Saki had suggested Kurando go with her as a bodyguard. Kurando had seemed to be waiting for the suggestion because he went without farther protests.

Their parting had not been as difficult this time, for Saki was able to watch them now through the Fountain. Their adventures were recorded deeply in her own heart—for she herself was an adventurer—and she had sighed over their deepening affection for one another.

Of course, she had been secretly pleased that Kurando had remained a gentleman throughout it all.

But when at last Kurando and Anastasia parted—called away by their separate duties—Saki had worried. She did not need to peer into Sukune Fountain to know that both Anastasia and her family were in grave danger, with Russia growing more and more unsettled by the day.

Saki had attempted to pester Kurando into going to Russia once more—if only to protect Anastasia—and the boy surely would have, but each letter he sent Anastasia requesting her permission to visit had been returned with a simple: please do not.

With a hint of frustration marring his face, Kurando had obeyed Anastasia's wishes.

Now rumors had emerged that the Romanovs had been moved from their house arrest in the Alexander Palace to a holding in Siberia and both Saki and Kurando understood its implications. If the government had seen to move the royal family it was because they were in grave danger.

It was the reason that Saki now stood before the waterfall in Sukune Fountain, her feet bare as they moved gracefully across the damp rock. The magick was already heavy in the atmosphere as her embroidered fan clicked once against her thigh.

"Romanovs… Anastasia… my darling Anastasia…"

Out from the blue rose the image but it was for Saki's dark eyes only.

The dark room… a basement, musky and damp from a previous rain. The scent of chrome and gunpowder. And the inhuman screams of pain. Young women's screams, men's screams, a woman crying out for her son.

"Lord, save us!" a woman screams. "Non nobis, Domine!"

A loud chorus of prayers. "Ave, Ave Marie!"

And then thicker voices, powerful voices. "For Russia! For Mother Russia!"

And the deafening screams are silenced…

A howl tore from Saki's throat as she broke the image but the sound of their shrieks still remained in her mind, reverberating off her skull. And instantly she knew that she had to inform Kurando. The game had changed.

The Romanovs were in Russia once more and that could only mean danger.

Before she knew what she was doing, her feet were taking her from Sukune Fountain and right to the Inugami house. Kurando was there, she knew, trying to subtly ease the duties of Village leader off her shoulders.

"Kurando!" Saki cried, trying at the same time to drown out the shouts that still resonating in her cranium. "Kurando!"

"Mother?"

The young man in question came down the stairs to meet her, his dark hair drawn over his handsome, youthful face, covering his haunting red eyes. His wiry body always seemed posed and collected but Saki knew—just as she knew his father did as well—that underneath the cool exterior was a man taut and yearning for action, to defend those he claimed as his own.

"You must collect Anastasia and her family from Russia immediately!" Saki cried, curling her hands over the smooth fabric of the long sleeves of Kurando's white shirt.

"Mother, Anastasia doesn't wish me to come to Russia," Kurando pointed out, his face darkening briefly before controlling the rage. "Beside, you and I know that she is no longer in Russia. She's been moved to Siberia."

"No." Saki's hands slid from Kurando's arms and bunched at her sides. "They've been brought back to Russia. To Ekaterinburg, in the Ipatiev House. The Fountain has shown me, Kurando." She watched as Kurando's eyes widened and knew that, at last, he had come to understand the implications of what she was saying. "You and I know that the Russian government can only have dark reasons for bringing them back to Russia."

Kurando's face paled visibly and he reached down to grip Saki's wrists, turning them over. His face grew tense with concentration.

Then he said, slowly, "Mother? May I fetch the Mumeiro?"

Relief swarmed through her at his words. Yes, Anastasia would be safe soon. "Of course."

Without further words, Kurando turned to ready his things.

--&--

He had never taken a boat to China before. The first time he had traveled from Japan, Kurando had been loaded up in Roger Beacon's airship.

And on the long ride across the sea to China, Kurando cursed himself for not finding some way to keep in contact with the old man.

The sea journey had carried on endlessly it seemed and even though Kurando found himself to have no problems with sea travel, the thoughts and worries of Russia and Anastasia plagued him like a disease, wormed too deep into his skin to ever be pulled successfully out.

Anastasia couldn't really be in such danger, could she?

But she could, he knew that. That was why he hadn't wished to separate from her when they had returned to Russia. He had to, he knew, but he had wanted to say with her or convince her to come with him.

Instead, he had left Anastasia and had found his attempts to return barred from the princess herself.

Throughout the course of the ship ride to China, the danger Anastasia was in hounded him.

Kurando found, however, that the agonizingly slow pace of the ship was nothing compared to the horrific slow pace of the train he gained passage on upon arriving in China.

Worse yet was that all the talk on the train was of Russia and the revolution.

"Do you think they'll kill the Romanovs?" one woman had asked, her seat in front of Kurando as they left the Chinese landscape behind.

"Well, they certainly can't keep them alive, can they?" a man had answered. "Not if they want to gain a rightful hold on Russia."

"But don't they have children? Little ones?" the woman had protested with a tremor in her voice. "Surely they can't kill children?"

"They're Bolsheviks," the man said on a hoarse laugh. "Of course they can. And the only one of the Romanovs that is still a child is the son, and they certainly can't let him live, can they?"

He was talking about little Alexei, Kurando realized and pressed his hands to his eyes to keep the headache inside his skull. Alexei was fourteen and was as innocent as any child he had met. How could they possibly consider killing him?

And then he thought of Anastasia, not quite eighteen, and felt sick to his stomach.

No matter what the cost he was getting her out of Russia, her and her family. If he had to cut his way through Russian soldiers then he would.

Even though it sickened him to think that an entire country could turn on its rightful rulers so quickly, his main concern was seeing to their survival.

There was no way—it never crossed his mind—that he would merely allow Anastasia to become the sacrificial lamb for the new government aiming for a hold in the frozen tundra of Russia.

She had come to mean something to him. Something fascinating and wild and burning. In the beginning, he had barely noticed the tiny princess always clinging to his side. He had been aware of her, but on the level that she was a Russian heir and thus needed be treated with respect and courtesy. And he had done his best.

It wasn't until the day that Anastasia had volunteered to go into the bowls of the Neim Ruins did he realize that his feelings for the young princess might transcend more than protector and charge. It was the thought of something happening, of the bright spot Anastasia left on the world being gone, that frightened him to the point where he realized that he might just return her feelings.

And on that day when they had finally saved the world from the clutches of those who would cause it harm, Kurando had allowed himself to hold her body against his. And there had been something amazing in the way her body had seemingly fit so perfect against his, the way her warmth seemed to fill him.

Upon their return to Inugami Village, he had been surprised to see how pleased he was at how well Anastasia fit in with his people, nearly a part of them. And he had dreaded the day when she came up to him to explain her yearn for the outside world. Though he knew of his duties to his village, he had decided to take the journey with her.

Of all the memories Kurando would store over the years, his best and finest would be his year with Anastasia, seeing the world as she did, with the youth and carefree nature that came so easy to her and falling madly in love with jade eyes and an easy smile.

Even his time in Russia with Anastasia—despite its tense and unease—were some of the fondest memories he could claim to have. Laughing with Alexei, slowly and subtly gaining Nicholas's trust, and hiding out with Anastasia from her sisters and her mother. It had all been so wonderful to be with Anastasia and her family.

He'd be damned if he allowed it to end.

The train ride to Russia wouldn't take him all the way into Ekaterinburg. It was too small and insignificant a town for the train to have a station. The closest Kurando could get was Omsk, a number of days from Ekaterinburg.

Kurando had no idea how to get to Ekaterinburg from Omsk and he was no idea how to procure the knowledge of how.

That was why Kurando found himself walking the town square of Omsk, frowning deeply at the crisp air. Even in July, Russia was chilly. The snow had melted off the ground—thankfully—but the grass was still stiff with the ice.

No one he questioned was willing to give him directions to Ekaterinburg. And it only made Kurando more nervous. No one wanted anything to do with Ekaterinburg. That could only mean they had reason to fear it.

The Bolsheviks were moving and they were moving against Anastasia. His Anastasia.

A man leaned casually against his car, a thick coat covering his body and a hat pulled low over his head, covering his eyes from view. Not many in Omsk had this form of transpiration and the man looked as if he had paid for it, his clothing threadbare and in need of repair.

"Does this run?" Kurando asked, coming up to the man.

He raised one dark, bushy brow. "It might." He eyed Kurando's clothes and Kurando wished he had sense enough to buy trousers and a tunic to better fit into the Russian landscape. But he had been so consumed with reaching Anastasia he had not thought to change out of his hakama.

"I need to get to Ekaterinburg."

"Ekaterinburg?" Now the man's eyes darkened with suspicion. There weren't many Japanese men who came seeking for a way to that small, suddenly dangerous town. "Why?"

"Personal matters," Kurando returned and offered no more.

"I don' know many men who're lookin' to go to Ekaterinburg 'or 'personal matters'. Sorry, boy, but not me."

Without another word, Kurando lifted the gold his mother had been smart enough to give to him. There was a bit of it and he would have to say a prayer of thanks to Yuri for allowing him to be the one to carry their funds on their journey those years ago. He had no use for it over the years save his tour with Anastasia and even that had barely put a dent in his funds.

But if he had to spend it all to reach Anastasia, then he would.

The man eyed the bag Kurando lifted in his hand and pushed his hat back over his head. He knew gold when he heard it. "I mig't know 'ow ta get to Ekaterinburg. But it ain't a place I'm exactly willin' to be."

"Money is no object," he pointed out calmly and jingled the bag of coins for good measure, inciting the man's interest.

"A'right. Get in. Ekaterinburg is 'bout three days from 'ere." He opened the driver's seat and jumped, waiting a little impatiently for Kurando to come around the side and join him in the passenger seat. The engine started when Kurando placed the gold in his lap.

He considered it a good move on his part not to mention the rest of the gold he had tucked carefully into his pants.

--&--

"I dun 'ave anything against the Romanovs, you know?" the man said sometime later after the silence between them had seeped into long hours.

"Hmm?" Kurando answered, shrugging. He wasn't truly interested, but his inbred politeness wouldn't allow him simply ignore the question.

All he wanted to do was get to Anastasia.

"The Romanovs… well, I don' like the Tsar. No one does. But the children… well I ain't never met them and 'ey ain't exactly done anything to me, right? So I don' rightly think it's good 'ey're locked up and all. I jus' wanted the Tsar off his throne."

When Kurando said nothing to him, the man went back to peering silently out his window. The silence grew thick and heavy between them but Kurando had no intention of making any sort of friend out of this man. He merely wanted him to take him to Ekaterinburg then perhaps drive him and the Romanovs back to Omsk for the train.

But there was a thick feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach that said it was already too late.

That was why he wanted so desperately to push on, to get to Ekaterinburg as fast as the car could take them. He had protested loud and long when the man had parked in front of an inn and told him that he couldn't drive another foot without some sleep. Kurando had then relented, mostly because he needed this man and he didn't know how to drive on his own.

Of course, Kurando didn't sleep. But then he hadn't slept a wink since he had left Japan and would likely not sleep until he was able to see for himself that Anastasia was unharmed.

"So ya… ah… a friend of 'em Romanovs?" the man asked as their second day stretched into their third.

Kurando barely registered his voice because he was too busy looking for any sign of the town. He wasn't sure when they would start to see it down the dusty, dirt road they traveled but he wanted to keep his eyes open at all costs.

Then the man's voice did register and he went on edge. He was well aware the Romanovs, and anyone supporting them, became an enemy of the country.

"Why?"

"Well it's nothin'… 'cept I heard that some Japanese fella was hangin' out 'round the youngest Grand Duchess when she came back from 'er world tour," the man explained, not bothering to glance at him. Kurando was sure his wicked red eyes made the man think of devils and demons.

Good. If the man was afraid of Kurando then he likely wouldn't dare betray him.

"And if I do know the Grand Duchess Anastasia?"

"Well, it'd jus' make sense if'n you were goin' to Ekaterinburg 'cause you were sniffin' 'round for the Romanov girl." With a shrug that was barely noticeable in his thick coat he went on, "I 'eard rumors that 'em Bolsheviks had put 'em back in the country."

"Are the Bolsheviks really that terrible?" It was the man's voice that made Kurando ask it. He had spat out the Bolsheviks like the word was a curse.

"Some sayin' they are, some aren't. Personally, I don' think 'ey're any worse than the Tsar. But no better if ya ask me." The man took off his hat, tossing it into the back and rubbed his balding head. "It's that Lenin fella I don' like. He's got 'ese mean eyes and this whole bit on Communism sounds a bit… unfair ta me."

"Then why are they threatening the royal family if the Bolsheviks are just as frightening?" Kurando demanded, imaging the terror and fear on poor Anastasia's face when they had moved her from her home.

Not only that, she would have been devastated that her beloved Russia hated her family so much. Whenever Anastasia had spoken to him of Russia, it had been with a bright light in her irises and awe on her lips. She had seen her "Mother" Russia as the Garden of Eden where everyone else saw merely snow and farmers.

Anastasia Romanov had loved her country and her country wanted her dead.

The very idea had Kurando's hand curling into fists of rage.

"Change is better 'an no change, I guess. Russia's jus' headin' for trouble is all. Romanovs are lucky 'ey'll be out of it soon."

That didn't comfort Kurando at all.

Anastasia… I'm coming. I'm coming for you.

"Sonofa—" but the rest of the curse was lost quickly in the sputtering and coughing of the car. The man gave another long stream of curses as he guided the suddenly shaking car to the side of the road.

"What is it?" Kurando demanded, feeling the dread in his stomach deepen to a great rumble.

The man gave him no answer as he climbed out of his seat and approached the back of the car. He lifted it up and cursed colorfully once more as a spray of hot steam rose to meet his face.

"Overheated," he grunted to Kurando as he stepped out of the car. "And outta gas. I'm going ta have ta walk a ways back and get some." He glanced over at Kurando and looked down at his sword. "You know how to use that?"

"Yes."

"Good. Watch the damn car and I'll go get the gas." He fished his hat out of the car and then grumbled, "Best hurry, if'n you're sniffin' for the Romanovs. Bolsheviks can't be plannin' keepin' them alive for long."

"Hurry," was all Kurando said as the man turned and started to walk down the dirt road behind the car.

As he walked away, the dread in Kurando's stomach hardened into a lead ball of pain.

It was the early afternoon of July 17th, 1918.

(non-)Historical Notes

Ekaterinburg was a small town but I don't know if it had a train station. I'm going with no because that's how I want the story to go. Omsk, however, is an actually town in Russian, somewhere near Ekaterinburg. That's why I chose it, obviously. And the Russian dude? No one important.

I don't know about you but by the time I was finished playing Shadow Hearts: Covenant I had racked up major dough. Hell, I could buy the merchant brothers and still have plenty to spare. Which was an improvement from Shadow Hearts—every time I had any sort of money I spent on that damn acupuncture guy! I gave Kurando the money because he needs it and, well, Yuri's dead so what does he need it for? Yes, that means we're following the good ending of Shadow Hearts: Covenant where Yuri is (sadly dead). I just don't want to risk the chance of having them run into Yuri by accident.

The weird looking words in Saki's vision where, in fact, Latin. Because I love Latin. Ave Mariais the beginning two the "Hail Mary" prayer. So it means, duh, "Hail Mary". Non nobis, Domine is loosely translated in "Not me, God". I put Latin in here because the Romanovs were heavy religious, and the Russian Orthodox is one of the strictest Christian community. It's right up their with Greek Orthodox. So, obviously, speaking or at least knowing Latin was a requirement.

The Bolsheviks tried their best to keep the Romanov family's movement as quiet as possible. Of course, leaks… er… leaked out and that's why people knew what was going on to the Romanov family.

For those of you who were riding the bit about the car, no I wasn't. The early model car had it's engine in the back and it's trunk in the front. Directly opposite of what we have now. Just thought I'd let you know.

Lenin, obviously, was the leader of the Bolsheviks party and had a major hand in the Russian Revolution. Once the Romanov family was massacred, Lenin became the dictator of Russia and implemented Communism on Russia. Communism, it should be noted, looks great on paper but can't work out in real life because of human bias (I learned that in Sociology!)

For those of you who know the Russian Revolution history, Kurando should be worried that it was July 17th, 1918. Anastasia and her family were led down to the semi-basement at the Ipatiev House just before midnight and executed by the order of Lenin, who feared that the Romanovs would be liberated by the White Army (loyalists to the Tsar) and come back into power in Russia.

reviews

Tiger5913: well, thank you. I'm a fan of all your Shadow Hearts work. XD When I was younger (hell, even today) was obsessive with the Romanov family and their sad, doomed life. Anastasia and Alexei were my favorite, but I loved them all, which is why I was sad that they were mentioned only once and in a negative in the game. Oh well… and I dunno know about a mature fic. I'm definitely thinking about a lemon, but I do I'll post it on my journal.

Suzuno Oosugi: I'm never completely historically accurate but I get the gist of it done. This is what happens when you're a history buff playing a World War I non-shooter game. Shooter games have no plot and they don't matter.

Leonia: I'm glad I can work real-life events into this video. Mostly because, in real life, Anastasia's survival seems highly unlikely but in Shadow Hearts… well, my Anastasia kicked major ass and I can't see her dying!

IchikoKitsuneKoumori: yeah, probably not the best idea in the world… you know, Revolution and all…

Next chapter: the time: 10:00. July. The 17th. the place: Ipatiev House. Basement.