Disclaimer: We neither condemn nor condone the characters for their actions. If we owned Digimon, Kensuke would be a reality instead of a crazy bout of fan fiction ^^ The plot is strictly ours, and the song lyrics are copyright their respective writers and artists.
Anathema Sacrament
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Nothing ever changes
Nothing ever moves
I swim around in circles
In the same old lifeless room
And talk about the mirror man
The whispers in my ear again
The hot and sticky pillow man
Is smothering my face again
Nothing ever changes
Nothing ever moves
And I run around hysterical
In dead persistent gloom
And babble out in simile
Like dog-head-monkey-music me
Shut up shut up shut up shut up
Shut up!!!
And let me breathe...
--The Cure: Babble
Chapter One: dark befalls the heart of light
Once upon a time, in a fantastical kingdom at the very centre of a world that existed but shouldn't have, in a land where things were but shouldn't be, there lived a prince that never smiled.
For all that looked upon him, it was perceived that he was forever dismal, never imparting any sign of happiness, his delicate features perpetually cast in melancholy shadows. One might wonder; had it always been this way? And no, it hadn't. In the not-so-distant past, he was a carefree boy, filled with light and love. A boy whose merriment echoed through stony hallways and floated on sugar coated breezes… whose innocence captured a heart of darkness…
For evil usually befalls the most pure and golden of souls; those that bring light and love to the world around them, with their beauty, their kindness, or their ingenuity. Bearers of a presence imbued with the potential to enlighten worlds. And if phased into a position of great power, or influence, the gravity to enhance the lives of those around them. Surely a glorious future awaited him, or would have, had not the evil taken hold. For once one was touched by evil, only those truly of great merit ever returned to the paths of goodness and light, usually with the help of one brave and dear.
Prince Ken had been - and technically, still was - all and everything that anybody could ever ask for or desire. His face was beautiful, even and striking. With skin fair and smooth. Elegantly framed by long, silky hair the colour of midnight mists. His eyes were sparkling amethysts set below long lashes and heavy lids. They glowed with wit, intelligence, a radiant kindness that touched all around him, and a love for life one could almost feel. He moved with an effortless, liquid grace, and held a soul incomparably pure.
His early life was a tragic one, losing first his brother to a horrific accident when he was but very young, and then his mother to illness as he reached adolescence. The only family he had left was his father, the King, who was always away, conquering, negotiating… leaving Ken on his own, to run a kingdom at the tender age of thirteen.
But even in the face of such hardship he made everyone and everything his friends, his family, and his advisors. He hesitated not to listen carefully to the gripes and complaints of the poorest of peasants, and treated the cruelest of haughty noblemen as his closest friend. None could resist his sweet, guileless charm, and all those around him bloomed like flowers under the sunshine of his heart. The debonair young prince was perfect in every way. In his sultry saccharine looks, his clever mind kept hidden behind violet eyes, which brimmed with kindness and a love for every living thing. A veritable innocence that made his slightly shy smile bring out the best in everyone.
It was that very smile that those who had known the prince in his youth missed most. It was their living symbol of everything good in the world, the trademark of his purity and willingness to help indiscriminately. A semblance of the everlasting love in his heart. All those who knew him, and even those who didn't, wondered who it would be that the prince would fall in love with. Hoping for someone who could bring him as much happiness as he brought everyone else.
But when Ken turned sixteen years old, disaster struck, and the prince that everybody knew and loved began to slowly sink into darkness…
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The room was dim and shadowy, just as Ken liked it. He lay curled up in a tight ball, trying in vain to hold in the meager warmth he had flowing through his bloodstream. The several layers of comforters wrapped around him did little to ease the constant chill, as he buried his dark head in the fluffy pillows piled all around him.
He was always cold lately, in body and soul… and there was nothing he could do about it. He was hungry too - and no matter what, he would not do what was required to sate it. His body hungered for something his mind would not allow, and his mind hungered for a way out… any way out…
"There is a way out of this hell, you know…" a quiet, malicious voice danced across the room. Ken buried his head further into the fabric, trying to shut his ears and just not listen to him any more. Trying to drift off to sleep, to embrace unconsciousness and the brief escape it offered. He shut his violet-fire eyes as tightly as he could.
"Go away… just go the hell away!" He whispered, his voice hoarse. "This is all your fault!"
"Oh, I know…" movement from the source of the voice made Ken crack his eyelids open a fraction; trust was not something he imparted to people who ruined his life. "And I'm proud of it…"
"Proud? That you destroyed my life?" Ken hissed, sitting up to face his blighter, practically spitting like a cat, his eyes glowing with rage. "I suppose you would be proud, you… you…" he sent off a rally of curses that would make even the raunchiest of men turn white. As it was, Ken was simply favored with a coldly amused, sardonic grin that sent shivers down the prince's spine; he turned away, quickly.
"What, is poor widdle Prince Kenny squeamish about fangs?" The other began in a sickeningly sweet voice that abruptly turned menacing. "Or is it just that you're too afraid to face the truth?"
"I'm not afraid of anything," Ken lied, courage beaming through even as he clutched the blankets with white hands, meeting his nemesis' eyes once more. "Especially not an insane reject of a vampire like you, Yamato…"
Yamato smiled, stepping into the dull light so that Ken could see his features quite plainly; dark blond hair framing a sharply cut, sallow face. Intense eyes of dark sea-blue that sparkled green, and a wide, menacing smile, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight.
"One day you'll see your folly, my young Night-Brother," he taunted. "You'll come to your senses… you can't live here much longer… prince or no, they'll cast you out. You're a freak, a danger, and more importantly you can't survive here anymore… without killing somebody that is. And I know you don't want that…"
"I'll never go with you!" Ken yelled. "You hear me? Never! No matter what you say!"
"Oh, I hardly believe that…" Yamato laughed quietly, mockingly. "I mean, look at yourself! You're pale, thin, trembling… you're practically wraithlike!" He licked his lips hungrily. "They'll find out sooner or later… they'll notice that something's wrong… and what will they say about the ever-cheerful and kind Prince Ken when he doesn't smile anymore, hmm?"
"I don't care… I'll never go with you… no matter what happens… I'd rather die…"
"That can be arranged," Yamato shrugged nonchalantly. "Stay here, and that will happen, eventually…"
Ken opened his mouth to respond, but footsteps in the hallway silenced him. "Prince Ken? Your Highness?"
"Taichi!" Ken hissed. "Quick, leave!"
"Oh, I don't know…" Yamato drawled. "Think of what will happen if I stay…" Ken's violet eyes widened. He wouldn't…
The doorknob turned…
"Hmmm… you owe me one…" Yamato's voice carried on a whisper as he faded quickly into the darkness. Ken winced, his pupils dilating, as the door swung open and light flooded the room.
"Your highness," the brunette with the untidy hair bowed, the candle in his hand flickering shadows against his face. "Are you alright? I heard noises…"
"Fine, thank you, Advisor…"
Taichi looked unconvinced, but bowed himself out of the room anyhow. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call, my prince," he said, closing the door firmly behind him. Ken sighed, burying his head in his pillow.
Yeah, right. I trust you about as much as I trust… Yamato. He shivered. Even thinking that name made him sick with fear and dread… he knew that he couldn't stand up to the blond vampire very much longer…
Never. I'll never go with him to the World of Darkness… I'll stay here. I'll risk it. I'll risk unhappiness; I'll risk being a liar. Running a country in disguise… but I'll never, ever turn to darkness.
The moon hung at just the right angle to shine into the only window in the room; Ken turned toward the glass, wincing as the light hit his pale face. Sitting up in bed, he gazed at his reflection shimmering there. His long dark hair was still inky and lustrous, framing a face that had grown too thin and pale. His eyes seemed too large for his pallid face, but gave him a fragile, otherworldly beauty that he hadn't possessed before. Grief and pain had left its mark in the form of a diminutive wilt to his eyelids, but stubbornness also gave his sultry lips an obstinate set to them.
But he never, ever smiled.
For the first time in a while, Ken actually got out of bed in the middle of night. His slender, bare feet making quiet slapping noises on the cold stone floor, he made his way to the window, and stood there, gazing into his own soulful violet eyes.
Then, slowly, he parted his lips in a smile that held no joy, just a simple movement that revealed two rows of perfectly straight, white teeth. Except the eyeteeth - both were unusually long, and glittered strangely whiter than the rest. And both were filed to a deadly point that seemed impossibly sharp.
The prince slowly lifted a trembling hand and gently touched the reflection in front of him. "I'm a monster…" he whispered, voice quavering. "With a single bite, a prick on the neck, the solitary drop of red blood that diffused from my body… I changed from a loving and beloved prince with a bright future to… a blood-sucking monster…" his voice dropped to a whisper, "whose heart, soul and body are sought by the darkest of demons… the same that gave me that fatal bite…"
What am I to do? he asked himself, violet eyes wavering with the tears he refused to shed. He stood there, gazing at - but not through - the window until dawn came, when he retreated to the shadows of the stone walls once more. He could be out in daylight, for he wasn't fully a Child of Darkness… yet. He dreaded the day when he could no longer leave his castle, to feel the sun upon his face, although even that did little to warm him. It burned, deep down inside, but he didn't care.
He wouldn't go back to bed; that would mean he would eventually wake up, and he didn't want to. If he woke up, then it would just prove that this all wasn't some terrible nightmare. And he really hoped that it was…
Vampires were only a thing of nightmares.
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The tavern was quickly filling up, and each table held more people than its set capacity. But one table, in the very corner of the room, remained virtually empty, except for three people and a vacant chair sitting spaced out around it.
The people sitting at the table weren't all that extraordinary. All three wore garbs of peasants or merchants of the lower class. One was small, with large emerald eyes and dark hair - beside him sat a woman with a sweet, mature face, with reddish-brown eyes and smooth ginger hair. The third member at the table had an appearance that stood out a bit more; spiky cinnamon hair, eyes of rich chocolate, and an infectious grin. All tapered with mismatched clothing that spoke of a peasant, but gave the impression of a poet or an artist.
The back door opened, and a slender, robed figure slid through. Recognized by the three individuals at the corner table, the cinnamon-haired boy leapt to his feet and courteously pulled out a chair for the newcomer.
Sliding the hood from her soft brown hair and sitting down, smiling, she glanced around the table. "Hello, Daisuke, Sora, Iori," she said, her voice sweet. "How goes it?"
"All is well, Lady Hikari," Sora replied, cheerfully.
After an hour or so of idle chatter, like how much profit was made in the gem business lately, or if Farmer Kitsuno's cows had gotten loose again, or if so-and-so had finally did-thus-and-thus with such-and-such, Hikari stood to take her leave. "So everything is all and well?" she asked, again, before she went to depart.
"Perfect, Lady. And even more so since you've graced us with your presence again," the dark-haired Iori grinned. Hikari smiled sweetly.
"You know I like to get out of the palace every so often and visit with you commoners." The lilt in her voice and the twinkle in her eyes told the three "commoners" that she was jesting. "Palace life is so dreary… and as the spokesperson of the Peasants' and Merchants' Guilds, I like to have some inside information."
"We have never been treated so well as when you are our councilor, Lady," Sora said respectfully.
"Come now, Sora, we are friends, and you must call me by my name. It makes me feel old to be referred to as "Lady" by those I have come to befriend," Hikari grinned.
"You will never be old, my lady," the cinnamon-haired Daisuke grinned, speaking for the first time that night (which was unusual for him) in his warm, lilting voice. "We call you that to remind ourselves that you are a gracious and beautiful lady, and not ditch-born commoners like ourselves!" Although his tone was light, there was a certain dark overtone that Iori and Sora did not notice, but Hikari noted right away, and turned her sharp eyes on the closest of her friends among the peasants and merchants.
"Is there something bothering you, Daisuke-chan?" she asked, worried. Daisuke shook his head no, looking surprised, but after a moment of Hikari's scrutiny, he screwed up his nose and cast his eyes down at the table, resigned.
"I can never hide anything from you, can I?" he sighed.
"No, you can't," Hikari replied curtly. "Something is bothering you, I know it…"
"If you wish to discuss something, Iori and I will take our leave…" Sora began, but Hikari shook her head.
"No, that will be fine. It's getting all too warm and noisy in here anyway, and I already cut into much of your leisure time." Turning to Daisuke, she held out a hand. "Will you take a walk with me, my friend?"
"Do I have a choice?" he replied wryly, but followed her obediently out into the cool night. Once outside, Daisuke dropped his ever-present pose of "everything is peachy keen!" and cast his eyes down, dragging his feet.
"Come, Daisuke-chan," Hikari said, eyes worried. "Come sit down…" she gently took his hand and led him to a park bench pushed up underneath a nearby tree. "Tell me what's wrong…"
"It's… about him again," Daisuke sighed.
"The prince?" Hikari sat up suddenly, avid with interest. Daisuke had the uncanny gift of being able to sense people's feelings… some called it Empathy. Most thought it was just luck, or a talent, but she was sure that it was magic, of a sort. And lately, much of Daisuke's "talent" had been focused towards Prince Ken, whenever he had the chance to see him in public, or when the young Regent made his weekly rounds of the city, an old tradition.
Lady Hikari had been the first - and probably one of the only - to realize that the change that Prince Ken had suddenly gone through was more than it seemed. Something was wrong, but she herself could not get close enough to him to help without him going unreachable, or arousing some suspicion. So she had set her best friend, Daisuke, with his uncanny ability, to watch Prince Ken whenever he could.
It would have been a whole lot easier if Daisuke had been a courtier, where he wouldn't have to watch Ken from the crowds… but it was enough.
And there was something else that Ken was to Daisuke, other than a ruler to watch and judge…
"It's… getting stronger…" Daisuke whispered, not looking at Hikari.
"What is?"
"My… my…" he scrunched up his face, as if in pain. "My attraction to him, damn it!"
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The steady sound of boot steps reverberated off the thousand-year-old stone. Prince Ken strode with purpose down the ancient hallway, a corridor that had been trodden by centuries of royal Ichijouji footwear. Portraits of his ancestors, previous kings, lined its walls. Each pair of eyes stared narrowly at him with disdain. He had betrayed them, for he would be the last.
Ken shivered, silently cursing his persistent chill. He pushed on, trying to ignore their scowling, antediluvian faces. Shoving his hands into his coat pockets he rounded a corner, concentration slipping, his sorrowful eyes instinctively falling on the latest portrait – a regal man who was once a father. Ken shortened his stride, maintaining eye contact with his 'father's' likeness. Did he even still look like that, the prince wondered? He couldn't be sure. His memory of the king became hazier with each passing year, and soon he'd be forgotten. Like Ken was.
Bits of conversation drifted past his ears from down the corridor. He tore his gaze from his father's oil-based eyes and picked up his pace. The voices grew louder. He made a sharp left, desperately wanting to avoid being seen and failing as he nearly crashed into a woman's body. She let out a cry, startling him and her own companion. He took an awkward step to the side, allowing then space to pass by. Both women bowed to the prince before continuing on the journey to presumably the laundry room. Judging by the bundles of linen each carried.
Ken groaned at his misfortune. He drew in a deep calming breath, inhaling a myriad of scents. The moss that grew in dank corners, ladies perfume, and... blood. He could smell that distinctly beneath it all; an unmistakably metallic odor, rich and tangy. He risked a glance around the corner at the two women's retreating forms. God, it would be so easy if he just gave in. Surrendered to the hunger. He could get his fill and kill them swiftly, snapping their necks with barely a flick of his wrist.
A wave of nausea hit him hard, the humanity in him rebelling against such malevolent desires. He doubled over, dry heaving, his stomach muscles clenching to rid his body of a poison that simply couldn't be thrown up. Every cell in his body was tainted with it: the essence of darkness.
Prince Ken wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pulled his coat up around his neck. He headed down a small set of steps and slipped out a rarely guarded side door.
The night was cold and damp, a layer of fog sliding in to cover the landscape. A full moon loomed low in the cloudless sky. A dazzling array of stars flickered in the emptiness of space. Too bad he didn't have the time to stop and appreciate them. He needed to do this fast and get it over with. Exiting the courtyard in front of the castle he melted into the shadows. Being a shadow oneself made it easier to hide amongst them. He darted through decrepit back alleys, taking refuge in doorways to avoid the watching eyes of passer-by. Flitting past a noisy tavern in the far corner of the immediate kingdom, he effortlessly cleared the cities surrounding wall, landing soundlessly on the other side and paused to straighten his coat. He brushed a hand through his indigo hair and began his trek to a nearby farmer's field.
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Hikari flinched visibly at the harshness of Daisuke's voice. He was so clearly distressed by this, but there wasn't much she could do to help. And she hated it. Seeing him upset, she felt so helpless. So she did the only thing she could and comforted him.
"Oh Daisuke," she whispered, placing a hand gently on his back. "I'm sorry for getting you involved in this."
He shook his head. "No. No Lady Hikari, it's not your fault and I... it's…" he paused, trying to work out what he wanted to say in his head, staring off into the blackness of the night. "It's...funny," he began slowly. "But I don't regret it, and I'm not ashamed...of these feelings. It's just hard because I know that they will never be returned."
'Kari opened her mouth to say something hopeful, but stopped herself when he started speaking once more.
"Ken...he's just, God he's so beautiful. So beautiful it almost hurts to look at him. He's ethereal," Daisuke laughed briefly at the depth of his own words. "I've never felt this way about another human being, male or female. When my eyes lay upon him my heart beats at this frantic pace. Like it knows something I don't. Like it's trying to push me forward into his embrace," he stopped again and rested his cheek on his fist, his dark eyes serious. "Hikari...I feel like we're connected."
The young woman next to him chose to stay silent. Not wanting to ruin or downplay the intensity of Daisuke's heartfelt emotions with foolish words. So she sat quietly beside him with her arm draped over his shoulders and thought of her own love life. Or more appropriately lack of one, she mused. It wasn't as if she didn't have feelings for someone, they just...well didn't really return them. She sighed. Would she ever experience such a profound love like Dai had spoken of? Or was she doomed to stay alone forever.
Daisuke shifted his gaze to a small row of bushes off to the right. He noticed the gradually increasing fog and noted how sometimes it seemed as if nature reflected ones current mood. His mind felt foggy, unfocused and obscure. How easy it was to loose yourself in the face of such turmoil.
A fallen twig snapped as something streaked across his line of vision. He squinted, his pupils dilating, drawing in light to enhance his vision. It moved again, disappearing behind a nearby building. Dai's heart skipped a beat; he leapt up and ran to the hedge line. His eyes pierced the dimness and came up empty. He could have sworn he saw something. But there was no one there. And the only visible route of escape was over the towering city wall. He shrugged, attributing the sighting as a side effect of his emotional upheaval, and walked back to 'Kari.
"What's wrong Daisuke?" She studied him oddly.
"Ahh... nothing. Thought I saw something is all." He ran his fingers through his unkempt hair. "I think I'm going to head home. I'm kind of tired," he yawned in emphasis. He wasn't really tired; he just wanted to be alone. He needed to think.
Hikari stood up. "Okay Dai-chan," she hugged him gently. "I should be going anyway." She released him and smiled. "You take care now."
He returned the smile with one that easily rivaled hers and nodded. "Thank you Lady Hikari. Goodnight."
"Night."
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A single tan goat grazed humbly on the outskirts of the open pasture. It would seem to onlookers he was a touch to far from the inherent safety of the rest of his herd. But he didn't mind, the grass was much more lush over here and it was all his. He chewed contentedly, swallowing every couple minutes when his mouth was sufficiently full of grinded blades of grass. So absorbed in his apparent good fortune, he failed to notice the imminent danger. Nor did he realize that the nearby tree held a most vicious foe. And the taker of his very life.
Ken watched the careless goat drift farther and farther away from the others. Good, just what he needed. He couldn't very well attack and set the rest of the herd in a panic. He'd wait until this one was totally alone before striking. A few paces later and Ken was satisfied. This would have to do, he didn't want to be in this fucking tree all night.
He silently hopped down from its branches and crouched in the grass. It was time. He relaxed his body, his mind. Turning himself completely over to instinct. It was the only way; he couldn't kill this poor animal if an inkling of his former self remained. He felt the rush of adrenaline and primal desire. His muscles tensed, he lunged.
The goat only had time to widen his eyes in fear before his neck was twisted once fully around. The sickening crunch of breaking bones interrupted the silence. Its body fell limply to the moist ground, twitching as nerves fired off final signals. Ken dropped to his haunches, dogs barked in the distance, their cries growing steadily closer. Stupid dogs, they always knew. He leaned over, baring his fangs and plunged them into it's still warm jugular. The thick red liquid flowed freely between his parted lips. It tasted bitter and impure, but he gulped it down anyway. He desperately needed it; he'd put it off as long as he could. Moaning part in pleasure and part in disgust he drank his fill. When he was satisfied he slid his teeth from its throat, licking his lips. He looked sadly into its dead eyes.
"I'm sorry," he breathed.
Ken rose, brushing fur and grass off his clothes. He glanced into the bordering woods. He would dispose of the carcass there. It wouldn't do to leave behind evidence. Another dog howled, somewhere to his left, much closer now. He bent down, wrapping his arms around the deceased goats mid-section. He heaved it up and turned toward the sleeping forest.
A sharp pain pulsed through his leg. The snarling dog let go briefly and bit down again. Ken fell to his knees, dropping the goat in the process. He grabbed the dog's scruff and tore it off his leg, throwing it to the ground harshly. It yelped in agony.
"Hey!! Stop right there!"
Ken staggered forward, regaining his balance. The man whose voice called out ran through the darkness in his direction. The prince spun away from his assailant and took flight. Running faster than humanly possible. No problem for him, he was no longer human. The wind whipped his hair in every direction, he barreled down the path, his feet barely touching the ground. With a miniscule amount of effort he pushed off from the ground and soared over the wall and into the confines of his kingdom, landing gracefully on a peasant's rooftop. He peered over his shoulder. There was no one in sight. He floated to the street and cautiously made his way to the castle, trying on his way to come up with a way to remedy this unfortunate situation. He really fucked up. He'd been spotted and as soon as they found his kill they'd understand exactly what had taken place. He was in danger. In danger of being exposed.
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Daisuke just couldn't banish the feeling that something was very wrong. Though how could that be? Everything was calm; the night sky sparkled with a myriad of glittering stars, and the crisp air was serene. The only sounds came from the crunch of the redhead's feet against the brittle gravel, and the distant noises of nighttime city life; the clink of glasses in a nearby tavern, the low murmur of voices, a faint uproar of male laughter arising every so often, and the soft "coos" of the night birds.
But wait…
Daisuke stopped dead in his tracks; his chin rose as he glanced around, worried. There it was again; that faint feeling of disease, tempered with fear. It was getting stronger, closer…
And then it was gone, behind him now, and soon it had faded completely away. Daisuke whipped his head around, trying to catch a glance of whoever or whatever had caused it, but saw nobody. But still, that feeling…
"HELP!"
Daisuke jumped, and before his brain had fully caught up with the rest of him, he was running towards the sound. It came from outside the city walls – he had to go to the Gate. His feet wheeling Wile E. Coyote style as he struggled to run faster, he was there in a matter of seconds. A farmer was limping towards the gate, and it was his yells of "Help!" that had brought the redhead running. The guard at the Gate leaned over the side of his tower.
"What's wrong, old man?" he yelled. The farmer stumbled against the tall iron gates, whimpering as the guard turned the crank and they pulled slowly open. As soon as there was space enough to fit through, the farmer, whose rugged countenance, white hair and burly build spoke of one that was not easily spooked, slipped in and fell to the ground right in front of Daisuke. The guard slid down the ladder; other people, as well, were venturing out of their houses to see what it was that was wrong.
Daisuke kneeled in front of the man, meeting weary grey eyes with his own vivacious, chocolate brown ones, now dark with worry. "What happened?" he asked, helping the man to sit up.
The farmer held up two hands, palms up. They were coated with blood.
"Vampire…" he whispered.
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