Author's note: Finally, it did not take as long is I thought it might take. I just got very inspired suddenly this morning before I went to my finals (I hate science… T-T) I needed away to forget about my stress over that goddamn exam and just started to write this down. And when I finaly came back, I started to write again and it just got out as it is. Now, if you want to put up with my rambling just keep reading the note if not, jump to the warnings and read on. So today I'll be talking about my evil toaster. I swear the thing got a mind of it's own. Each time I try to make myself some toasts, it scares the hell out of me with its loud jumping sound, almost spitting out the bread, and then swallow them up again so I can burn my poor fingers on the hot steal! But I just love peanut butter toasts too much not to risk a few burns… The strange thing we do for things we like… Go figure. So if anyone knows of a good toaster therapist, I'm willing to pay for the evil thing to get a check up! Please, pity my poor mistreated fingers.
Disclaimers: Don't own, don't sew. I still have no job and got a bill to pay now that I'm no longer living with my mother.
Warning: There is heavy shonen-ai material ahead. I don't know I there will be other in the future, but you have been warned for this one chapter. Now read and enjoy, and don't forget to review! ^-^
The Tale of the Morning Star
By Evil Karyta
Chapter First: Past Reawaken
Swirling eyes of cinnamon mixed of golden and blood red stared at the stars, lost within the complexity of reflection. At the feet of the vivid gaze laid a body, broken, dead, dripping with the last of blood that once held the secret of life flow, now rushing through another. Not a moment had passed without him thinking of her as sure as she was thinking of him. From the distance that separated them, he could feel her every thoughts turning to him, wishing him near her as her immortal eyes grazed the beauty of a world she had never dared to imagine.
Four years, long and yet very short in some strange way, had passed since they last had a taste of each other. Four years of cooling, four years of depression and exaltation, four years to pick up the pieces that was the remains of their individuality. A necessary evil, he had said. The only solution not to burst and disappear, to return to be two instead of one. They said that true love made beings a sole one, but they never said that such a magnificent force could also be such a destructive one. They both realized it that was the reason why they parted, so they could keep on existing while cherishing the memory of their union. Someday, life would bring them back together for a blissful time that compared to their life would last no longer than a sigh, but it was such a circle of separation and reuniting that made it beautiful and lovely. As the song went, I can't live without you, but I can't live with you. The cruel reality of those that chose the path of immortality, living by the sins, having a life more full and exotic then any.
The wolf missed his flower as the bird in is cage longed for the wild of the endless forests. That mix of pain and joyous remembrance made it all worth, although he never ceased regretting that one bite that brought her into damnation. Syaoran was determined in enjoying what he could; even the damned had the right to feel joy and comfort, at least once in their life. He intended to make the better of it. As he remembered the time he spent with her, it came to him that she had not changed the way he had thought she would. Her kind and compassionate mind stayed alive in a strange way, but still was there, but she did not share his torment while killing, nor did she crumble under the weigh of guilt and depression. She was smiling, enjoying what she could and wishing to see everything. Maybe it was the because of the different circumstances that had brought her into her new life that made her as strong as she was.
The vampire followed his feet through the old streets of Québec City. It was strange to see such old buildings in such a modern world. A collision of two different era, melding together and turning one town into a vivid jewel of old and new. It was said that this old city was a pearl of the world's antics. Shining alongside with the romantic Paris, the age long Rome and other beauty of man's doing. The fortified city had been his home for two months now, and he enjoyed his stay greatly. Each night, he would discover yet another aspect of it that enchanted his mind, feeding his hunger for beauty with its simplicity and rustic charms. And the accent of the citizen was plain gorgeous. A somewhat old French, spoke with vivid joy of life, trailing and rolling, rough and soft all at the same time. So far from the sophisticated speech of the old continent people. Here, they radiated freedom and vitality. Young and old at ease with each other, not overly polite, inviting and warm. He loved this part of the world.
The nightlife was not as strong as it was in bigger cities. Just the right among of passer bys and youth having fun. The bars were loud but welcoming, blending some of the old and new that made the charm of this continent. Geographically speaking, this continent was older then the one he came from, the mountains, eroded by time, wind and water spoke clear of its age, but in men's mind, it would always be the new one. Promise of better time, through Siberian cold and hot summers. Really, a strange place to live, he reflected while entering a small pub.
The dialect was a marvel to him, smooth and casual, polite but rude, proof of a joy many had forgotten. Even the old folks were lively, and their stories always interesting. But he was not here for tale telling, actually, he had hoped to get a peace of mind that he could not attain anywhere else. And this old, rustic and charming city was just what he had longed for. Unconsciously, he noted that, maybe, Sakura would enjoy it. The simple life was something she had always admired, being a simple girl. The chestnut haired shook his head; he was not here to dwell on her, he was hear to have a somewhat good time.
However, someone had other plans. A waitress came, handing him a fine glass of red wine. He eyed her suspiciously, knowing that he had not ask for anything. She caught the glance and amiably pointed to a man who's back was turn to him and the young woman winked at him. Syaoran stared at the stranger, not liking his forwardness one bit when the man stood up and turned around. Shining blue eyes bored into his fiery cinnamons and a growl escaped his throat when recognition set in. The short black hairs, the finely chiseled face, aristocratic and diplomat, there was no mistaking. The man walked to him, hand reaching for his chest pocket, reviling a pair of round glasses which he put on his face before sitting down, a friendly smile on his too pale face.
"Hello," he greeted with a deep and charming British accent.
"I don't see why you still bother putting those things one," was Li's crude reply.
"Old habits dies hard, my friend."
"I thought you were still her pet," he sneered.
"Actually, when you think about it, I'm not really. But I do own her some, so…" he trailed off and than started again. "I heard you find yourself a mate. Its no secret to us that she has a heavenly beauty. I thought you swore never to create a new one… What made you change your mind? Is she that good…"
"That's none of your business," snapped the Chinese man.
"I was just trying to make conversation," he stated. "So how have you been?"
"What do you want, Eriol? I'm sure it's not to talk about good or bad weather."
Eriol smiled a bit devilishly, observing his interlocutor's reaction upon seeing his expression. He heard the low growl and shook his head, knowing perfectly that he had never been on Syaoran's good side. Maybe the Lone Wolf never liked him, or, and he was betting on that one, he just held a grudge to him for being hunted down over two hundred years. Of course, the British aristocrat he was never saw it as such, a hunt to him was too barbaric an act to him, he would prefer to call it a violent search. However, he had finally let him go, thinking it was useless and a pathetic waste of his time to keep it up. Not that he did not get a serious beating for doing so, but he was not about to tell Syaoran such a story. The blue eyes rather keep those things for himself, like the good little Londoner he was.
"I have a little something for you," he uttered after a moment of tensed silence and than handed him a letter.
"I don't what to have anything to do with that little spoiled bitch, Eriol. I have put up with her for long enough. Just tell her that I don't give a damn about her useless problems and that she can perfectly well go make herself a cozy place in hell for all I care."
"Just read it and you'll tell me if you don't care afterwards," he simply said before lifting off his comfortable seat and strolling to the door. "I'm sure you're wondering just why you're Cheery Blossom did not write to you as she usually does each two weeks or so…"
The door bell rang sweetly and the black haired man, coming for the past, was gone such as he came. How Syaoran hated it when he did such things. The thing was that the had been fairly good friends before the overall of his escape. Actually, Eriol had been the only one to keep him sane while the duration of his 'enslavement'. He had been her favorite for long, the little British dog with sparkling blue eyes that just made her melt, that was until she found her Chinese wolf! Now, he was spunk, he was wild and she just longed to tame him, not that she ever succeeded so speaking.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ancient China: Shangaï October of 1527
He had been running circles all day, trapped like a rat, feeling what a caged fawn would. It was not the darkness that had bothered him, he was used to it, he lived by night. No, it was the walls, cold, humid, stony walls that surrounded him. He hated it, he hated her for it. She had been his judge, his jury and her verdict had been to send him in what she lovingly called La Cage de Pierre. She had the frustrating habit to name everything in French. Not that he cared much now that he was in it.
Before hand, she had beaten him, he could still feel the burns and pain of the whip as she unmercifully hit his bare back, each time whispering, in that overly sweet voice of her that he despised so much, that it was all for his well being. What a blunt lie. Not long after she had been gone, her soft laughter echoing down the dark hall, he had turned into a state of need. It was on the verge of been unbearable, biting at his gusts, turning him wild and violent, his usually calm gaze a vivid red glow, menacing as the shown as brightly rubies would. Outside, not so far, he could hear the voices, the heart beat of thousands of citizens, driving him mad.
He ended crawling in a corner, hands firmly pushing on his ears in a lame attempt to block the sound of life, if only for a moment. But he had no such luck. All his nerves were awaken, his senses a million times better than any creatures, feeling, hearing, smelling about everything. The was a cacophony playing in his head as a myriad of human thought at the same time, not able to even discern one clear thought, and he tighten his grip over his throbbing head. His red eyes stared at the pitch black that was his silent companion. Teeth gritting, his long oversized canines biting deeply into his lips, drawing a cold blood that tasted like everything but the red substance.
He was insane, seeing things, hearing things and wishing them all gone. It was as if falling into an abyss, forever lost into darkness and for sole companies his own cries of pain and fear. Unknown to him, his nails had sink in his tender flesh, the blood dripping in thin trickles of dark crimson, before hitting the dirt covered floor like pearly drops of scarlet. As the pain grew, it was no longer the low growling of a furious beast but a weak groan akin to a plea that could be heard from the curled up man. The hunger was tearing him apart, and what was once a proud man was reduced to a heap of a broken animal.
Among the loud mix of human thinking, street noises and fragrances that hit his senses, a door was open, the rusted hinges whining and footsteps resounding in between the four high stoned walls. Someone crouched down if front of the fallen man, a gentle hand pressing on his shoulder as glazed and crazy bloodshot red eyes, shining in vivid scarlet open to stare into soft comforting blue depth. Surrounded by the silvery frame of a delicate pair of glasses, the sapphire seemed to sooth something deep within him as the pale face, so beautiful, came closer and gentle calming arms circled him. He did not resist, giving into the generous attention, the beaten man simply fell into the embracing arms.
"You suffered enough," soothed a caring voice.
Something was pressed to his mouth, enticing, giving, he had no choice but to oblige. He bit into it with carnal hunger, his crave rising to submits he had never attained. The sweet, warm sanguine liquid filled his mouth and he uttered a moan of deep, genuine pleasure to the sweet taste as it started to flow down his throat and by some biological mean, cursing through his aching veins. Velvet lips grazed his fevered brows as a gentle hand caressed his silken strands. The man held with a fierce grip the body part that had been so kindly offered to him, loving the sensation it gave him, the renewed of his strength. Slowly, the voices lowered to a gentle murmur before dieing away in the back of his consciousness, his senses returning to a relatively normal state.
"That's enough now," and the blood source was taken away from him, even though his grip had been powerful.
The man looked up to stare into smiling indigo that shown in silvery light, his own gaze having return to the swirling cinnamon and gold powder. The blue eyed nodded, shoving his white hands in the wild fury of his brown locks one last time, the hand used was dripping with blood as the wound healed in a unusual fast pace.
"Why are you here?" finally asked the man.
"Don't worry about it," was the reply.
"I thought you hated me," he stated lamely.
There was a moment of silence when the blue eyes stared directly at him with surprise written all over his pale face. "Hate you? On the contrary, I love you."
"I took your place…"
"I don't care, I didn't like that place that much. I think you can imagine why," there was a sarcastic note in his rich voice.
"Yeah… I can very well…" he snickered.
A pose was noted and the two only sat in silence in comfort. It was not unusual for two individuals to be at ease when the weigh of quite would confine them both, but for these two men, coming from to different epoch, to opposing cultures, it was surprising, if not completely atypical. But the bless of silence never really last long, and soon, the previously broken man spook again.
"Eriol, why do you stay with her?"
"That woman is the devil, Li. Leaving is a something I do not suggest anyone. She'll track you down like an animal, bring you back and torture you until you can no longer discern pain from pleasure," he snorted.
"So you did try," he stated and not questioned.
He sighed. "Of course I did, who wouldn't try, living in such condition…" his blue gaze grazed the gray dust of the floor as if lost in some sad remembrance and than he looked up staring harshly at his companion. "Don't ever try to run, I don't want to become your enemy," there was a threat that lingered to the statement.
The other man simply looked away, not meeting his intense look, afraid that he might read his mind. Two months latter, he had fled, but was rapidly caught and once again locked in the damn cold room, cursing and shouting, facing insanity again and loosing the battle rapidly until Eriol came again, barely saving him for a fate that was worst than his already was. The tender British aristocrat had taken him out, shielding him within his apartments, nursing him back to health, keeping him away from the wrath of their mistress. He had always been good to him, friendly, gentle, loving.
With him, Syaoran had understood the profound meaning of being what he was. A creature that sought beauty in all its wonderful forms, someone who loved and hate with a passion that was so much powerful than anything else was. There was no difference between genders, woman, man, children, elders, they all had this enchanting beauty to them, if not physical, it was in mind. At first, he had been scared, desiring things he never thought even possible to want, wishing to attain something that he thought would not exist. Love was really a strange thing, he had concluded. The charming blue eyed had shown him many things, shared a passion Li had not even began to imagine was possible to have with any body. It was not only the pleasure of the flesh, it was the nourishment of the mind, the complexity of their relationship, the deep meaning of each of their conversation was all in itself a bliss and a damnation, and he just could not help but cherish it.
"You'll try and leave again, won't you?" he asked, caressing the smooth skin of a bare shoulder that glowed with the silvery rays of the moon.
"I don't know."
Eriol propped his head with his right hand, his elbow resting on the silken pillow, watching sternly his friend as he stubbornly kept his back to him. The handsome Londoner's glasses lay on the floor amid layers of clothing that had been discarded but not forgotten. A soft smile lingered on his lips before the lovingly grazed the smooth white skin that he just loved to touch. Worry crossed his brows, making him frown but it was hidden from his companion. He had already warned him, would Syaoran heed to his admonitions or simply fallow his passionate mind. That same mind witch had drew them together would also tear them apart it seemed.
"Don't lie to me, please."
"I wish I was able to," humored the chestnut man.
"Will you try again?" he insisted.
Li sighed in slight annoyance before sitting up, his back against the bed's cheery wood head so richly crafted and finally spoke, his gaze on the crystal chandelier that hang above them. "Why asking questions you already know the answer?"
"Because I care," was his simple answer before crawling into his friends arms.
Li embraced him, as he would usually do, his arms circling the strong back, fingers sliding in whispers of caresses along the curve of his backbones. They both needed so much comfort, being nothing much but slaves to a woman that had nearly the mind of a child and to whom anybody was nothing but a toy to enjoy. He sometimes wondered what would have became of him if Eriol had not been around to keep him off the edge she desperately tried to push him over.
"Thank you," Syaoran said after a moment, kissing the midnight locks of his friend and lover.
"What for?" he asked, his voice muffled by the other man's chest.
"For being there when I needed someone. I don't know if I could have managed without you…"
A finger came to his mouth, shutting any other words that would have escaped those sweet looking lips. The sparkling sapphire gems stared at him as on hand cupped his left cheek, worry was clearly written in those lovely ocean pools that were Eriol's. So many emotions passed over his features that he had lost count, but they were all vivid when he finally spoke.
"Li… I don't want to become your enemy."
"It depends what decision you'll make when the time would come… if it ever come…" he was looking away from his eyes, not wanting to see anymore of those strong sentiments that would make them so vivid.
As if to shut him up for good, Eriol sized his face and pressed his lips passionately over the velvet of Syaoran's. Sometimes, action spoke louder than words, and this act in itself was very effective in all its beauty and compassion. The bliss of his caresses, the magnificence of the fire that would be shared when the kissed, the power of their friendship, and beauty of their love making, it was so much to them both. The thin line that would keep them in touch with sanity was the strong bond they had created over time. Even though passion was crazy, even if loving another man was wrong, their existence was an aberration in all complexity. So why bother with morals when their was no boundaries? Yes, love was indeed a very strange thing.
But she had words of them, she had learned of their deep friendship and had became jealous of it. It led to the one beating that just was too much for Li to take, and when Eriol had came to save him once again, he could no longer hid from it.
"I'll be leaving," he said.
"Don't, she'll just get you back and this time, I won't be able to save you."
Syaoran stared down at his feet, not able to meet the accusing stare of the British man. He sighed and took of his glasses, tucking them into the helm of his shirt before standing in front of his beloved friend. With barely concealed emotion, he hugged him as tight as he could, kissing the Chinese boy in the crock of his neck like he loved to and than trailed to take one last taste of his mouth, knowing perfectly well that he would never again have that chance. It lingered longer than it should, wishing that the simple act would make him renounce. Forehead to his, his deep ocean water reflected in silver moon light stared at his cinnamon eyes that were set in determination.
"Hit me with all your might," he whispered, voice horsed with strong emotion.
"You won't be my enemy…" Li assured before sending him a blow to his handsome face.
The black haired man stood back, sadness in his eyes as he watched his friend give him a forceful punch in the guts, knocking all air out and leaving him wavering. He reeled backward, his world turning black as unconsciousness gripped him and he hit the dirt. No one saw the wolf exit the manor. He traveled around the world, reviling in his new found freedom, forgetting any guilt such the joy was grand. Too bad all god things had some sort of end. One night, Eriol had appeared, sadden and mournful.
"I told you we would become enemies… Why did you not listen to me?"
It seemed that the jalousie of their mistress had not been forgotten. She had forced the Londoner to hunt him and bring him back, dead or alive. And so their game of tag had started, but something always kept them to tear each other apart, even as time eroded their friendship, masking the memory of their relationship that had been so precious. Syaoran would always escape, scathed and bruised, but free and alive, until finally there was no more sign of her or Eriol and he was left to peace, or whatever little peace he could get in between his human consciousness.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Li shook his head, chasing away the memory, only wishing to be left alone. However, Eriol's words had made their way to his brain, and he did wondered why he still had received no news of his beloved. He stared at the envelop. It was a simple white one; no address on the back, no particular pattern, just a plane white envelop that stared back at his investigating gaze. He opened it with cautious hands, fearing something that was just not possible. Within the paper layers laid a white sheet witch he carefully unfolded and his eyes turned furious, lingering the scarlet glow he always had when rage boiled inside. How dared she?
And with that he was gone like a passing blur, the glass of wine empty and money waiting to be taken on the old wooded table, the chair flickering before settling to stay on its four. On the table, among the coins and bank-note was the letter on which had been written on curving and elegant letters: Thank you for the flower. She is beautiful; I might have much fun with her. Do not worry, I shall take good care of her.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
To be continued………
a/n: This is something new that I started to do with my other fanfic. It's just fun to do and it spares me the guilt of not answering to the reviewers. I call it "Karyta's individual rambling to her lovely reviewers." But before anything, I want to clear something out with you guys. So I'll write it in bold letters so you won't miss it.
The relationship between Eriol and Syaoran is not as Sakura and Syaoran is. In their case, Sakura is the one person he had been looking for all of his life. In my conception of vampire, their mind can be put at ease only if a true consuming love can be found. Some would call them The One, other simply a Mate, as I call them too. Eriol and Li is a different thing. Syaoran was been treated harshly, beaten and tortured every now and then for no reason at all. Eriol was his friend, his confident, his comfort. Vampires do not see the act of making love the way we do. It's hard to explain. They are creatures controlled by their emotions and feelings, and when those emotions and feelings gets too strong, love making is a way to share it. Of course, they don't do it with just anybody. Their got to be a very strong bond like love or friendship (a strong friendship can easily be mistaken for love, believe me, I experienced it first hand). Both feeling are born out of a passion of some sort. There is no romantic love between the two of them, just a vampire way to express themselves. I hope I had been clear enough, if you have more questions about it feel free to write it in your reviews or send me an e-mail. I always answer to those.
"KARYTA'S INDIVIDUAL RAMBLING TO HER LOVELU REVIEWERS"
EcuaGirl: Broke up? I don't know if it's really that way. With a passion such as theirs, they would have killed each other if they stayed together. They still love one other, though I thought I had clearly pointed it out. Oh well. But I believe I had send you an e-mail. Anyway, happy you loved the prologue. ^-^
Kawaii-CherryWolf: My, you really are exited about it. ^-^ And don't worry about your spelling, mine worst, so I can't possibly see what's wrong with it.
The BOOKWORM: Of course I'll continue the sequel, if I would not, I wouldn't even started it to begin with. Though I never thought my work was exceptional… I'm blushing right now. Thanks a lot ^-^
ChibiKit: I see you discovered that the mysterious man was indeed Eriol. I believe you were the only one. Be proud ^-^. I'm not about to tell you just what I have in store, actually, I only have the chapter titles… I see you caught the subtle feeling of my writing. Or maybe it's not that subtle… Anyway, thanks.
******: What a read name…. How do you say it? Six Stars? Hope you had all the Syaoran that you wanted…
Li Blosssom: I hope this chapter do clear a small bit what Eriol has to do with this story. And don't worry, Sakura and Syaoran are very much in love. I can't say much to Eriol's affection to Li though… I'm such a little evil girl, that I am (oro, where did Kenshin came in?)
il0verice: Only time will tell us what would become of our cherry blossom and little wolf.
Kaylin-sama: Yeah, I know. It was stupid to even ask. But, actually, I wanted to know how bad people would want a sequel to it. I hope that now you know who 'that guy' is. And for the lemony goodness… I'm not quite sure yet. It will depends on how the story turn… but you know me… ^-^
AnimeObsessionFantasy: Yes, she actually did. But I had to think really hard over it. In the beginning, I was not even sure if they were together, but well, it just turned out that way. You know, the concept of forever is very vague, and we, humans, can't even to begin to understand just how long it is. Can you imagine yourself living with the same person longer than a life span can last? And with a love such as theirs, I would turn crazy. In life, individuality is a very important thing.
deanny: Thank you, I'm happy that you enjoyed the first one.
fire_blade: I said that I had about 12 chapters to write, so you're in for a long ride.
tHaT's pEgGy FoR yA: If I'm good in calculation, I'd say about 7 months or so… Is it long? (hehe)
tHaT's NaNcY FoR yA: Don't worry, I have no intentions on giving up. Just don't get to impatient thought, you know I don't write very fast. And in this case, it might just turn out to be very long…. Sigh.
Thank you so much. 13 reviews! Its even more than I got for the first chapter of The Taste of Your Life. I feel so loved!
