Authors Notes: Ohayo! This is my first fanfic in a long time, and hopefully my writing has improved over time. I'd like to thank all my friends at the Dragon Knights Messageboard () and the CBHS self-proclaimed Cult of Kharl of which I am a co-founder. Also, a special thank you to my BETA-reader, Wildwolf. Now to the serious stuff.

Warning: The reason I am rating this fanfic the way I am is because it is incredibly depressing and twisted, and you will probably all hate me before it is through. Bon appetite!

Prologue

The garden was empty, save for the wind that whistled through the towering trees, sighing a song of despair. Old, brittle dead leaves danced in the breezes, scuttling across the unkempt long grass and stone pathways with a hollow rattling sound. In the seemingly eternal cloudy dawn, everything was shaded gray, the trunks of the trees, the long grass, stones, and leaves. The wind traced patterns across the colorless pool beneath the towering weeping willow, as empty of occupants as the rest of the garden.

Of living occupants, that is.

Nothing living ever approached that place, so there was no one to see the two figures appear within that gray windswept world. Perched on a long stone overlooking the water, what appeared to be a young man sat, clear, colorless eyes taking in the expanse with an almost mournful expression. His short white hair stirred in the wind, brushing over the star-shaped white mark on his forehead and rustling the black fabric of his long robes. Almost entirely hidden by the wide sleeves of the arms wrapped around her waist, a little girl sat on the boy's lap. Her robes were white, sharply standing out against the long ebony strands of her hair that had escaped her wide plait. A black cross rested on her forehead above two wide eyes that were entirely a polished obsidian. Those eyes held a look of bitter pity and longing as they looked across the gray water.

"They would come here all the time," the boy's detached, soft voice did not carry on the passing wind. "The three of them."

"But they'll never come back." The girl added, voice just as ethereal. Her lip trembled. "Why did it have to be like that?"

She shifted to look up at her companion mournfully.

"Why did it have to end this way?"

The boy bowed his head, and reached a pale hand up to stroke her hair comfortingly, catching a tear that escaped glittering from the corner of her eye.

"Nothing has ended," he said softly, rocking the both of them slowly back and forth on their rocky perch, colorless eyes still closed. "It's just another chapter of the story."

"But the story's so sad." She sniffled, clutching the dark fabric of his robes with her small pale hands. He sighed softly, cupping her cheek and raising her chin to look him in the eye.

"There are always sad parts in a story." He explained gently, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. "They have to be there. But they end, and then the people can be happy."

"Happiness like we have?" the girl queried, obsidian eyes wide. "Happiness in death?"

"Some. And some find happiness while still living."

She looked back over the water, almost seeing three figures on the far side, laughing together in a reality that would never again exist. A reality that had been twisted and shattered with heartbreaking speed.

"What about them?" she whispered, turning and knowing he saw the same illusion in her mind. "Can they ever be happy again alive?"

He looked troubled, colorless eyes shimmering. The illusions danced before their eyes a long while before he spoke again.

"I don't know yet." He breathed finally. "I don't know."

She smiled softly as the illusions faded slowly with the wind, like drawings in the dust.

"'It is our place to know what is to come, but only answer the questions we are asked.'" She recited, closing her eyes. "'We are to watch silently—'"

"—And write the story as it played out." He concluded, smiling slightly. "My first lesson to you."

She nodded, and held out her hands. A shimmering ball of translucent black appeared between them.

"I suppose it's time to write this chapter of the story, Kanzen-sama?"

He smiled, and placed his hands over her small ones. Opaque white flowed into the sphere, billowing in the blackness, a merging of shadows and light.

"Yes, Sarazar, it's time to write it."

"The story of the Dragon Knight of Wind." She began.

"Who loved," he continued.

"And went mad." They both said.

The only two who knew the whole truth sat there, in the empty garden full of memories, and wrote in their divining crystal the story of two that were one, the entangled fates of both the Dragon Knight Lydan and the Yokai Nadil.

The Beginning

AN: Just as a note, the rest of the story is very unlike the Prologue, so if you didn't like this you'll hopefully like what is coming. Chapter 1 will come in about a week, or Wildwolf will smack me with a spatula ^^