Disclaimers: Don't own any part of Gundam Wing nor it's characters. It's a loan.
Warnings: Shounen-ai, OOCs, AU (what else do I write?)
Circle of Destiny
Part 9
Nefros sighed wearily, stepping out from his cottage from where he had been taking care of the elves' most treasured possession, the Silver Myst. Many in the outside world and most of the elves assumed that this treasure of theirs was a priceless gem, or at least something tangible that they can steal. It was laughable. Just days before, the elven border patrol had apprehended a few humans thinking to sneak into their realm to do just that.
Even then, it was kept in the middle of the vast forest known also by the same name. It was an almost ghostly feel to the place where their treasure was kept. It was perpetually misty, like a heavy fog that settled around that area. Most elves avoided that area too. Legend said that it was haunted and there were ghostly creatures attacking at every corner.
Nefros knew for a fact that these legends were perpetuated by previous Master Weavers. They did it to protect the secret of the Silver Myst. And it was because of their action that Nefros was bored to tears. There wasn't anyone here and he was so bored. The other Weavers aren't allowed here, only the Master was to remain. The rest were in the elven city some ways north of here. Weavers were an odd bunch. The elves believed that the world was made up of five elements, namely Fire, Water, Wind, Spirit and Earth. They made up the tentative balance of nature. Spirit was the main factor of 'magic' as the rest of the world knew it. The stronger the Weaver, the more control they had over Spirit. The stronger the control over Spirit, the more effectively they were able to Heal. Of course, the Master Weaver had the strongest control of Spirit. It wasn't in their culture to Heal anyone this way. It went against the laws of nature. An elven Healer could offer herbs and other tonics to aid the body to mend itself, but outside interference was frowned upon, if not forbidden.
Most elves could choose their path in life but Weavers were born with the capability to see the Weaves of the elements. When an elfling was confirmed to be able to see these Weaves, they are taken into training. Nefros had managed to stave off training, which he thought was boring, for a good ten years. He was always a mischievous child prone to pranks and finding trouble, so was therefore overlooked for any position of import within the elven community, despite him being the King's eldest child. It was his cousin Solo that had the King's favourable eye. Solo was a kind elf and extremely wise. He was a good heir to elven King's position.
It was because of Nefros' unassuming personality that caused such a stir when he was finally tested and recognised as a Weaver. When he was elected as the Master, the Elf King was heard to have moaned the fates of the forest.
"I'm bored," Nefros yelled loudly, knowing no one, except for the myst and the forest creatures could hear him.
The myst shifted slightly and Nefros could hear a slightly teasing tone that only he could make out.
As if you could stay put in one place longer than a few moments, Master.
Nefros felt uncomfortable for the relic of power to call him Master. He was no one's master. "There is nothing to do here. And you aren't exactly a fantastic conversationalist!" He complained.
And what would you prefer to be doing than baby-sitting me?
The elf Weaver cringed at the term. When he had first received this duty, he had called taking care of the myst baby-sitting. Of course, he didn't know that the myst was alive and sentient. When he found out he communicate with it, the myst had indulgently teased him, a much younger being about baby-sitting. It was completely embarrassing.
"You just sit there and scare people and you are not really funny," Nefros sniped, tossing his long hair over his shoulder in irritation. As a mark of his position of Master, he was allowed to leave his hair halfway down his back, while all other male elves were required to maintain their hair above the shoulder. Nefros thought it was a rather silly concept but since it was tradition, he wasn't going to say anything that would get him snapped at. He had enough the last time in a fit of boredom, coaxed all the trees to sprout pink leaves with bright yellow dots on them.
He was saved from a serious paddling from his father only by his position. One just did not spank the Master of Weavers.
"I'm going back home for a while," he muttered stalking out of the Misty Forest. "Don't go anywhere."
Right, I am going to float off with the next strong breeze.
"That would make my life so much easier," Nefros muttered taking off toward the elven city.
I heard that.
"You were meant to," the young elf grinned, sticking his tongue out at apparently nothing.
The soft myst shifted, coalescing into something slightly more substantial and hitting Nefros across the back of the head.
"Oi!" Nefros protested, rubbing his aching head.
The myst however, wisely stayed silent.
Through the trek back home, Nefros reflected on the apparent cheekiness of the one force that banded their lives together. His teacher had never mentioned its penchant for pranks. Therefore, he could surmise that it took on the character of its guardian. The previous Master was a dour old elf who was strict and ever so serious. When he was first told of his duty, the myst settled around the two of them, swirling slightly as if testing him out. It had scared him because of how eerily sombre the entire forest felt. It was later that he felt the atmosphere around the forest change. Animal life, birds and such started to frequent where it was dead silence before. While still outwardly oppressive, the myst didn't sent shivers down Nefros' spine any longer.
He could hear the sounds of the city long before he saw it. The clamour of speech, the slight tinker of children laughter, the normal sounds of everyday life. He didn't know how much he missed it until he heard it. The city came into view and the young elf heaved a sigh of relief. He was home. It didn't matter that he was the Master Weaver for over three hundred years, this was still his home, where he could come home to and see… his baby brother taunting a warrior!
Novhir was the youngest of the royal family and was probably by consensus, the most adorable elite in the entire forest of Silver Myst. Elites were what the warriors called the Weavers. Where they came up with the name Nefros couldn't even imagine. But right now, his precious blond haired blue-green eyed baby brother was standing in front of a warrior who wielded a very long, very sharp, potentially deadly sword, smiling innocently at him. As he opened his mouth, the warrior turned a very odd shade of peach and started darkening with every word Novhir said. At first Nefros thought his brother was angering the warrior but then he realised the warrior was blushing! That was a hundred times worse.
Taking off in a panicked sprint, Nefros tried to reach his brother in time, knowing that a teasing Novhir meant an embarrass warrior meant asquished little brother, or a severely bruised one. Either option was not acceptable. His violet eyes noted everything, the consistency of the ground, the little elfling that ran into his path, the basket of vegetables next to him. He leaped over the basket, skirted the little elfling and made a desperate grab at his brother, one hand clasping over his mouth, another secured around his waist. Then he lifted his muffled, protesting brother off the ground and started carrying him away.
"Sorry, just ignore what he said. We forgot to put his brain on this morning," Nefros muttered a quick apology to the now amused warrior.
Once they were a safe distance away, Nefros put his wiggling brother down.
"That was so uncalled for!" Novhir glared at his brother, pushing him away. "I was having fun!"
Nefros crossed his arms in front of him. "Don't you know how dangerous it is to taunt something like a warrior?"
Novhir shrugged. "I wouldn't know, since you dragged me away before I could find out."
Growling softly, Nefros hit his brother upside the head.
The irrepressible elf smiled blindingly, rubbing his bruised head. "Why are you back here? Aren't you supposed to take care of it?" His brother asked, aquamarine eyes shining with curiosity.
Nefros bit back a smile. His brother, like everyone else, would never stop asking about the myst. They want to know everything about it, how it looks like, how powerful it was, and basically everything. It was his duty to keep everything from them.
"It can take care of itself," Nefros teased. "It's not like it's going anywhere."
His baby brother opened his mouth to ask another question but Nefros covered the blond's mouth. "No more questions. I won't answer any."
Novhir's famous pout spread across his face. It was an adorable expression that basically got him what he wanted. It was a weapon to be reckoned with. But training, especially in this matter, had conditioned Nefros to be slightly immune. The look earned Novhir another affectionate slap on the back of the head and a brotherly arm around his shoulders.
"You are not going to get anywhere with that pout," Nefros smiled dragging his brother along. "Tell me what you have been doing."
Smiling happily, Novhir launched an excited monologue about his accomplishments of the day. Nefros grinned, feeling the weight of boredom lifting from his shoulders as he enjoyed the company of his brother and his people, even if it was the incoherent babble for his adorable younger brother. While he was the terror of Silver Myst, Novhir was the apple of everyone's eye. If he hadn't been chosen to be a Weaver, Nefros knew his brother would make a very charismatic leader. At least, he wouldn't spike visiting delegates' wine with laxatives.
He shuddered at that thought. That little prank had gotten him spanked and locked in his room for over two months. He had been fed on a steady diet of bread and water until his 'sentence' was complete.
"Sprung from prison?" A deep voice that seemed to be suppressing laughter called out to them.
Both siblings turned to see their cousin, Solo walking toward them. Like all elves, Solo was tall and extremely pleasing to the eye. He also had a rather royal air around him that was missing from the two imps now grinning at the heir to the throne.
Nefros playfully stuck his tongue out at Solo. "Baby…" He looked cautiously around. Being hit on the head once today was more than enough. "It was boring there, taking care of that thing. I wanted to see how my family was." With that he lunged forward and grappled his taller cousin for a bear hug. "I missed you."
"And me?" Novhir mock pouted.
Nefros suppressed a smile and looked over his shoulder. "Who would miss a whiny little brat like you?"
Solo laughed, bracing himself to be tackled to the ground by his younger cousin. Seconds later, three bodies hit the ground as Novhir jumped the two other elves, pushing them to the ground. Solo knew he shouldn't be indulging in this kind of horseplay but he found himself involved in a mock tussle that left him looking less than pristine. They had wrestled like that a lot when they were younger, but ever since Nefros had been elevated and he acknowledged as heir, these episodes were getting less and less. More often than not, it was a loud booming voice of Treize the elven King that stopped them in mid grapple.
As it did now.
"What are you children doing?"
The three sprung apart guiltily, their clothes in disarray and leaves stuck in their hair. All around them, elves were merely moving out of their way, having seen this kind of behaviour more often than not in their youth.
Nefros cringed at the displeasure in his father's tone as all three looked sheepishly at the tall, imposing figure of the elven King. He stood quickly, and tried to rearrange his messy self into something more acceptable to his immaculate and serious father.
Treize stood in front of his cringing children and his embarrassed heir. In truth, he found this situation to be as hilarious as anyone of them. Two elites and a future king playing in the dirt like little elflings. That in itself was amusing. However…
"Solo," he barked. "Go clean yourself up. Novhir, back to training, your teachers were looking for you." Then his eyes landed on his eldest. The one he respected the most. "Nefros," he nodded a greeting at his son.
"Father," Nefros mumbled.
Treize suppressed a smile. Right now, his eldest child was staring at the ground, kicking at the leaves fully expecting a scolding. "What are you doing back here?" He asked evenly.
Nefros shrugged and mumbled something under his breath. It wasn't that he wasn't welcome here, it was that his father was extremely anal about issues such as responsibility. Since he wasn't allowed to run around so much when he actually had a responsibility…
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Treize asked, bending over a little, trying to look his son in the eyes.
The sound of an alert brought the entire community to attention.
"My lord," a dark haired warrior came running. Nefros recognised him, he was mated with their Healer, a blond woman named Minuniel who wore her hair in two loose twists down both her shoulders. They called him the Dragon for his fierce prowess in battle. "There are intruders in the forest."
"How many?" Treize asked, dropping the veneer of a father and that of a king.
That change was also evident to the warrior, Luinatar and he snapped to attention. "Not many, probably not more than ten."
Nefros felt himself relaxing. Ten was a token number and definitely no match for their army. Why were these humans so stupid to constantly try this? Instead of pondering this, the elf found himself staring at Luinatar's pony tail. It was tied so tight and away from the warrior's face. He wondered if that was the reason Luinatar's eyes were slanted upwards.
"Despatch a patrol. Do not hurt them if not necessary."
Luinatar saluted smartly and started calling out orders.
Treize noticed his son's sudden interest at the proceedings and immediately took steps to head of whatever plans his mischievous offspring had. Lashing his arm out, he quickly grabbed the back of Nefros' collar. "You aren't thinking of going anywhere, are you?" Cold blue eyes glinted.
Nefros shook his head with a weak smile. "Of course not. Why would you think something like that?"
"Good." The King hesitantly released his son and his stance relaxed once he realised Nefros wasn't going to fly off into the direction where his warriors had just disappeared to.
"Father," Nefros announced with respect. "Perhaps it is time for me to return to my duty."
Treize nodded in approval, glad that his son was finally growing up. Still, experience taught him that his eldest was mercurial at best not to mention devious at times. He walked his son to the edge of town before motioning two of his own personal guard over.
"Father!" Nefros whined, not happy at being treated like a child and needed to be escorted back. The two guards would also effectively curtail his plans.
Treize ignored his son and ordered the two guards to ensure Nefros didn't stray. Not to make sure his son was safe. He knew that the young elf would be, if his own sense of adventure didn't kill him.
Soon, Nefros found himself trudging a sullenly back to his 'prison' with two of his father's most trusted guards dogging his heels. He needed to lose them before the excitement died down. He had never been part of a patrol guard before and he found the notion terribly exciting. Of course, he knew those two behind him wouldn't allow him to escape their evil, boring clutches. That meant asking for help.
He noted a small squirrel on a tree, eyeing the elves with curiosity. All woodland creatures held no fear for elves, they wouldn't intentionally hurt anything living if not out of extreme need.
Can you help with something, little one? Nefros knew that a lure, a bribe would be something to entice the little furry creature.
The squirrel stared at the tall elf with his beady eyes, keeping silent but not letting up on his vigilance of these intruders into his domain.
There are some nice little walnuts involved if you do. Nefros smiled, knowing that the animal would need more 'convincing'.
What do you need me to do?
Aaaah, success. Well, I need you to distract those two behind. Can you do that?
How many walnuts?
A tree full.
In an instant, with a soft chatter, the squirrel disappeared, its bushy red tail swinging behind him. Nefros continued to walk, slowing down a little. After a few more feet of silence, he began to curse the flighty squirrel before hearing some rustling in the bush. All three froze.
"It sounds too big to be a small animal," one of them whispered, drawing his sword.
The other stepped in front of Nefros. "Stay back, Your Eminence. We will deal with this."
Without another word, the two guards jumped into the underbrush, leaving a rather exultant Nefros behind, with a grin that threaten to split his face in two. Those two were so easy. Once his babysitters were conveniently distracted, the cheeky elf ran in the direction he saw the patrol leaving. Besides, he was being guided by the trees who were nice enough to provide him with instructions to where the battle was currently raging. He found his heart racing as he watched, from behind a tree, the warriors battling with the humans, and effectively forcing them to leave the forest.
Nefros studied the smooth, graceful movements of the elves as they wield their weapons and felt a pang of regret. He was in that same position just scant years before. Before he got caught and put into slavery.
I resent being called a slaver. The myst poked gently into his consciousness.
He jumped in surprise but decided to ignore it. He was too enthralled with their skill. Of all the men, one caught his eye. He didn't know why, nor did the man look any different from the rest of them. But something about his posture, the way he held himself drew Nefros' attention and captured it. The quality of his clothes and his bearing told Nefros that this person was a noble and apparently injured. Violet eyes watched as the man limped away from the clamour. It appeared that the warriors didn't deem him a threat as they efficiently removed the rest of the humans. Nefros stared at the messy mop of brown hair framing a bright flash of deep blue of his eyes, nibbling his lower lip in uncertainty. He didn't understand what was so bad about these humans and why his father was so insistent of throwing every single one of them out. He studied the man, who was now crawling away from the battle, his leg having given out on him. He looked pretty harmless and elves, especially those his father trained were known for their viciousness in battle. The human didn't look like he would make it.
Nefros battled with his conscience. He wanted to help the man. He was injured and definitely wouldn't last another minute under the warriors' care and besides, he was curious. But, if he got caught, his father would definitely have his head. However, what harm could one human, and injured as well, be any harm to him?
He took a deep breath and made his choice. As the limping human neared the underbrush where he was hiding, his hand shot out and pulled the injured man in.
"Hide here," he hissed.
tbc
