Unfortunately, I do not own Kuroshitsuji. I think everyone here would like to, but we sadly do not.

Also, this is the story of Sebastian's past, so no Ciel. I'm also calling him Aquila, which means Eagle in Latin.

Welcome to the sixth chapter! Please tell me what you think so far!

Construction

Summary: A change seemed to come over Luke. He twitched slightly, and, suddenly, Aquila was under the impression that he was no longer standing beside his brother.

Shaking his head to clear it of the memory, Aquila looked down the river. The gondola floated around a bend, revealing a massive construction site. Demons ran everywhere, carrying wooden boards and stones, and even a few materials that appeared to be molded from pure darkness. The crackling sound of magic filled the air, making Aquila's hair puff up like a large, angry bird. His brother was pointing out various points of interest. "Over there is the marketplace going up, and an enterprising fashion designer has already set up shop down there. Over there on that hill is the worksite for the palace, and over here are the dragon dens..."

Aquila looked over at the dragon dens with interest. They were a series of caves set into a large, overhanging cliff. However, these dragons weren't the cute little insect-like ones that hummed over the river. They were easily taller than a house, and would make any respectable Clydesdale look like a Shetland Pony. Their bodies, from what he could see of them, were long and lean, with rippling muscles and powerful wings. One turned its great red head to fix Aquila with a yellow stare. The thing grinned, revealing an impressive array of teeth. It stretched like a cat and padded straight down the cliff, using its hooked claws to cling to the rock. When it was level with the river, it stretched its neck out towards the gondola and inhaled with a big sneeeef! Aquila stared the dragon down, wondering in some corner of his brain why he wasn't frightened in the least. The dragon turned its head to the side quizzically, as if to ask why this puny creature wasn't running in fear, and then snorted out a spurt of flame. The fire blew over Aquila before he had time to react, and he panicked at first, before realizing that something was mildly fishy. The gondola still appeared to be safe and sound, and Aquila had not been turned into barbeque. In fact, the fire had felt pleasantly warm.

Carefully, Aquila reached out and patted the dragon's nose. The creature's scales were coarse in texture but fitted together quite smoothly. Its eyes widened briefly in surprise, before half-closing as it soaked up the attention.

"So do these dragons cause any trouble? Or is everything here flame-resistant?" Aquila asked.

"They seem mildly interested in us, but other than that, no," his brother replied. "And...while we're down here...I would prefer if you called and thought of me by the name Luke. My true name...has become rather well-known." 'Luke' smiled rather sheepishly. Aquila briefly managed a smile, but couldn't hold back the visible flinch as a sudden spike of pain shot between his shoulderblades. Luke's eyes flitted to Aquila for an instant, but he said nothing.

The gondola made its way past the dragon and down the river. A rise in the land off to the side seemed reserved for some special purpose. Large blocks of black stone stood clustered around a building frame molded from shadow. "What's that?" Aquila nodded at the structure.

Luke appeared embarassed. "The palace, unfortunately. I'm...er...kind of the king. And the others you met...princes..."

Aquila's spine prickled, and a brief flash of memory occupied his mind. "All of you have been chosen for a special purpose in this war. You are some of the best fighters, the most cunning strategists, and the greatest members of the Legion a commander could ask for. Your mission is far from simple: Find the leader of the demons, and destroy him. If these creatures exist for any longer, he will only grow in power. Already his strength outmatches the majority of fighters. The reason for this is beacuse..." The memory faded out at the end.

"Are you all right, Aquila?" Luke gave him a strange look. The gondola was partially out of the water, poled onto the bank.

"I'm fine...I think..." Aquila blinked a few times to come out of memory land. His brother nodded uncertainly and hopped lightly to the shore. Aquila, still unused to the slightly heightened reflexes of his demon self, affected a less casual exit from the boat. Luke's mouth twitched in a smirk, and he offered his hand to help Aquila up.

A tall demon with greyish hair came down the hill to meet the two of them, holding a clipboard which appeared to be holding blueprints for a porcupine. Aquila assumed they were plans for the castle, but there were so many spikes it was hard to tell. "Ah, this is the last prince, Beelzebub, Patron of Gluttony," Luke introduced him to Aquila.

"Call me Elze," the grey-haired demon grinned, speaking in an accent which would later (much, much later) be Italian. He seemed to have a permanently hungry expression on his face.

"My lord, I've been meaning to ask you what you think of putting in a gardens. You said no to the throne room, but perhaps the other would prefer-" another demon came running up, and stopped short as a change seemed to come over Luke. He twitched slightly, and, suddenly, Aquila was under the impression that he was no longer standing beside his brother.

The person in his brother's shape turned to the other demon. His voice was the same soft, cold, one that Aquila had heard earlier, implying ultimate authority. "No, no throne room. Gardens are fine, of course. Go easy on the black trim in the entrance hall, I want to see red somewhere in there, and for the love of all that's demonic not that ghastly color Asmodeus seems creepily drawn to..." the person gave a shudder.

"Yes, my lord," the other demon squeaked, and ran off in a way that was not entirely fleeing in fright.

Aquila nervously raised a quizzical eyebrow at the person. "Who are you?"

The person gave him an odd look, and then shook his head. The color changed to a dark red, with front bangs that defied the law of gravity and shifted up, then hung in long spikes straight down. The person's eyes changed to amber, with slitted pupils. "My name is not important. Suffice to say that I am a supernatural entity currently contained within your brother's mind. If you need to call me something, call me Iram," the person replied. "I am the Demon King, the Patron of Wrath."

Okay all done for now! Sorry it took so long! As an extra tidbit, 'Iram' means Wrath in Latin.