"To begin with anything
simple... I was born in the old world, in the year 1985. I was only four
when it happened though, so I don't remember much of my parents before
they got the illness. It killed them only two months afterwards. Now I
was on my own, no house, no family, nothing. I lived on the streets for
about another three years, stealing whatever I needed to wear and eat from
the merchants on the streets.
I only noticed it one
day, I think I was seven at the time. The humongous building in which everyone
seemed to flood every Sunday, which also explained why most merchants were
closed on that day. It was the first time I had ventured into what most
kids called 'the rich part of town'. Most kids stayed away from there,
since the people tended to be stricter.
Of course, when had
I ever listened to anyone? It was on a Sunday morning that I decided to
go see. At the sight of it, I fell in love. The towering walls, the marble
statues glistening in the sun's morning rays, how the statue angel's wings
seemed so real, as if they were made with real feathers, the tinted windows
telling the tale of the Mighty One. Everything from that church spoke to
me, it radiated of love, and I loved it back.
I think I stood there
for an hour, because when I came back to reality, I noticed that most people
were walking away, or driving away in their posh coaches pulled away by
stunning white horses on the cemented streets. And all I did was stand
there, in the middle of the streets, always looking upwards now and then
to see the golden enormous cross which stood on top of one of the high
towers.
Quite suddenly, I felt
a somewhat large and strong hand grab me by the shoulder. I jumped and
pulled myself away, thinking it would be another one of those slave sellers.
But all it was was an elderly man, probably in his sixties. He had a kind
smile, and I wasn't quite afraid. He wore almost all black, except
for a small white collar. He extended his hand and smiled again.
"Are you lost, child?"
he asked.
I didn't want to say
anything at first. Yet something in his smile made me feel warm all over.
"I've been lost for
too long, sir..." I looked down at the pavement, my bare feet tracing the
contour of the tiles on the street while my hands tangled in my hair, which
was around waist-long, and my dirty shirt.
"What's your name?"
he again placed a hand on my shoulder, I shrugged, but he kept a firm hold,
not out of force, but out of care.
"My name is Duo, atleast
that's what I like to be called. What's yours?' I asked.
"Well, my name's reverend
Dubois. I'm a pastor at the church there." he pointed a finger towards
the church. It amazed me in a way, because I thought that he was the one
who lived in it. Of course, I was only a foolish child at the time.
He looked back at
me and asked if I had someplace to go. I lowered my head and quietly answered
that I had been living on the streets for a long time now. A flash of sadness
crossed his face, but then he smiled kindly and lifted my chin up with
his hand.
"Would you like to
come stay at the church? I'm certain that the nuns here at the Maxwell
church would be more than happy to take care of you. One with such interest
in God's house."
I didn't think for
more than a second, I yelled "Yes!" and took the man's hand and let him
lead the way to the church. He opened the large white and gold-painted
doors, and then I gasped.
* * *
For eight years I stayed
at that church. The nuns taught me how to read, write, they also taught
me the story of God, and I knew for certain the Bible by heart. Those people
taught me so many things, but what I held close to my heart was what they
had taught me about good and evil, but in truth, it was not that I understood
it, it was simply that I became obsessed with it. Learning more and more.
Little by little, I
found myself slipping away from them, burying myself in books which talked
of apocalypse and darkness. It was strange, I was in my own little world,
but then I met him, and everything changed. For better or for worse, it
matters not what it is.
* * *
I was now fifteen years
old. Once in a while I would help out with the pastor and the sisters,
preparing the altar and such things. One day, the reverend asked me to
hold some of the candles while he went behind to find something. It was
a pretty small request, but I stayed and waited.
In another twenty minutes
or so the mass would start, and people were already beginning to enter
and finding their boxes as they sat and began to pray. I was still standing
there, though, my head down as I held the burning candle in front of me.
But then someone entered
the church, and I couldn't keep my eyes off that someone.
He walked behind a
woman, probably his mother. She was about the same height as me, and the
boy seemed only a little taller. Both of them seemed from the rich part
of town, the woman dressed in a light green dress with a feather hat, her
hair was long and brown, and it poured down from her shoulders down to
her back. Both of them sat in a box pretty near from where I was standing.
He had the most beautiful
blue eyes I had ever seen, they seemed to full of life, as if he were trapped
there. He kept looking down, fire red hair cascading down his forehead.
He wore a crimson red suede coat, a white shirt and foulard underneath,
tight black pants and suede boots that wore up to his knees. He looked
so amazingly exquisite, and yet so innocent, and so unpredictable.
One of the nuns came
from behind me and crouched so that she could face me. She took hold of
the candle and looked back at where the boy was sitting. "He's new in town.
That's his mother. I think his name was Sachichiru." She then smiled
and patted my shoulder. "Now run along, I'll wait for the reverend to come
back."
I smiled back at her
and walked towards the back of the church, but not before giving the boy,
Sachichiru, one last glance. He didn't moved his head, he only kept looking
in front with a bored look on the face. I smiled, then waited until the
mass would be over.
Surely enough, when
it was over, I was standing just outside the main door. I was waiting,
for him. A huge crowd of people scurried out of the church, most of them
were rich, wearing their three-piece suits and elegantly tailored gowns.
I saw the boy's mother pass, she was one of the last ones. She didn't seem
to look back, as if her son was no bother.
I kept looking at her
while she slowly walked away, and then entered the carriage. Now I was
confused. I leaned against the door, sunlight blinding me momentarily.
The carriage left, but without her son? He must still be in the church.
I turned around, ready
to go back into the church, but quite suddenly, someone jumped from the
door! I jumped back into the door, clenching my chest.
"What on Earth?" I
gasped.
Then my eyes focused
again, and I saw him. He had the cutest smile on his face when he looked
at me, both of his hands behind his back, and his body bowed towards me.
How beautiful, I stared at him, at his every feature. He was so elegant,
his red hair falling forwards while his crystal-like blue eyes looked upwards,
towards me.
"Good morning, good
sir." He said. His voice was calm, full of amusement.
I was still a bit confused,
why was he bowing to me? Was he mocking me? But, oh, he was too beautiful
to judge him that way. I liked him, I really did. I also bowed, imitating
him. I didn't really know why I did it. I had always been known to be somewhat
shy.
"And a good morning
to you too, young man." I replied.
We both got up at the
same instant. I smiled at him, and he grinned back. His hand swiped a layer
of hair away from his face. "And what shall we call the good sir?"
"What?"
He laughed, so cute
even. He seemed so calm. "What's your name."
"Oh!" I laughed pathetically
and waved a hand behind my head. "My name's Duo Maxwell."
"After the church?"
He asked, plunging his hands into the pockets of his coat.
"Yes, I was an orphan
and all..." I stopped, then looking up again, I asked "What's your name?"
"Mine? Oh, it's not
of such importance! But if you absolutely must..." He held out his hand.
"My name would be Sachichiru Richelieu le sixième. But just call
me Sachi, I hate it when people call me by my full name."
"Good to meet you,
Sachi!" I grabbed his hand a shook it. His grasp was strong, and his skin
felt like silk against mine. I never wanted to let go, and I felt myself
grimacing when he let it go.
"The pleasure is all
mine, Mr. Maxwell." He leaned against the wall, one leg against the rock,
while the other supported his body. I found myself urging, I wanted so
much to feel his hair between my fingers, my lips touching his.
I quickly chased away
the thoughts when I saw that Sachi was looking at me strangely, another
huge grin plastered on his face. "Struggling with something?" He asked
mockingly. He sighed and got up again, starting to walk down the steps.
"Wait! Where are you
going?" I waved my hand and ran to the halfway point of the stairs, while
he was a the bottom. I didn't want him to leave yet. I sure hope I didn't
bother him, or made him go away, I wanted to know him better, so much better.
"I'm going home! How
about we go out tonight? I'll come get you around eight! You better be
ready if you want to have some fun!" He called back, waving his hand too.
I knew that it was
against the nun's rules, but I wanted to go so much. How long had it been
since I had felt this way? Never? "I'll be ready!"
End of part 1
