Author: Keiran
Title: Fire Born (teaser)
Pairings: 1+2 other later
Rating: R. for once I'm not confused.
Genre: Fantasy. Magic and all that jazz. Although not here yet.
Warnings: Shounen-ai. Mild bastardisation of the pilots minus Duo. I seem to have a knack for it. Someone gets burned on a stake, so character death.
Archive: my site: the URL is on my profile page. If you want it, drop me a line. ^_^
Important Note: This fic has been inspired by Madam Hydra's 'Balancing the Scales'. There will be some similarities.
This fic has been betaed by Sundaire. ^_^ beams
****
It was a
quiet night. The stars were glimmering in the black sky, having no care for
what was happening in the world, yet they seemed to be the only ones not to
feel anything. Most of the small forest creatures were wary to leave their
holes.
There was a commotion among the humans. They had been collecting wood all day,
preparing for some big event. And now the event was about to start. A huge pyre
had been built in the courtyard before the temple, awaiting a flame that would
set it ablaze. There were only a couple of people before the building, all of
them dressed in heavy and ornate robes.
Someone had been led to the stake – a young man, just a boy really. His hair
seemed alive in the shimmering glow of the torches the other people were
carrying, the heavy auburn mass seemed to possess all of the light his eyes
lacked.
Those eyes, twin amethysts dimmed with tears the boy refused to allow to fall,
were focused on four men in the back of the group. Everything he could have
said had already been said. Now those men looked at him almost apologetically,
yet their faces were grim. The tallest of the four held the shortest close to
himself, while the black-haired one kept a restricting hand on the last man's
shoulder.
The last man was also the one whose face held the most grief.
The boy was bound to the pole in the middle of the pyre. The two men holding
him backed away from the platform and stood next to the oldest in assembly. The
man took a blazing torch in his hand and came closer to the stake. He started
to speak in a firm voice, yet there was a note of sadness and kindness in it.
"What you are facing now is an end. But as one thing ends, another shall begin.
Let us hope your death is swift. Let us hope your soul shall leave its confines
devoid of all wrongness.
"Let us meet again, after time, when all is done." The man looked straight into
the eyes of the youth. "Let me hope, that one day I will be forgiven. Rest in
peace, Laure."
With that, the man placed his torch on the dry wood, thus giving the sign to
the other men to light the pyre. It started to burn immediately; the wood was
imbued with oils.
The stake burned brightly. Its light and heat radiated so strongly that no one
could bear to stand closer than a few meters. However, with each passing
second, the four men neared the flames, gazing intently at the slender figure
in the middle of the infernal dance.
"Laure…" the barest of whispers could be heard coming from the blue-eyed, dark-haired
man. The elfin youth seemed to hear it nevertheless, as his eyes suddenly
opened. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, concentrating on not letting
the pain get to him. He knew, however, that with a fire that strong, it was all
going to be over soon.
But there are some things that man cannot fight against for too long. Pain is
one of them. And so, as his pale skin burned, the violet-eyed man let out a
cry, so hurt and sorrowful, that none of the people remained unaffected.
The only consolation for those watching was that with that moan he inhaled
enough heavy, incense filled smoke to be rendered partially unconscious. The
suffering and weariness did the rest. There was no way to stop the fire then.
The youth's body burned for a long hours in the unbearable heat.
Afterwards, the ashes were carefully collected and divided: part of them thrown
into the ocean, part scattered with the winds and part buried.
The burial was performed last. The blue eyed man had personally prepared a
resting place for the remains of his lost love.
"This had to be done Hith," the black haired man said firmly. He was not able
to get the sadness out of his voice. The other dark-haired man sighed in
response.
"I know. I brought him to the council, remember?"
"We know," the blonde said swallowing painfully. "I know."
"Don't cry Quen," the tallest of the four said. "It's just like Naur said – it
had to be done."
"I know that! I'm not a baby Alda! It's just… I can't keep thinking it was
unfair of us. He burned, that means he can never come back." His blue eyes were
fixed on the bush Hith was carefully planting over the ashes.
"It is better this way. Laure shouldn't come back, ever." There was a note of
finality in Naur's voice. Albeit reluctantly, the others agreed.
But the guilt followed them, thorough their present and future lives.
**End**
About the names: they all come from the Elvish tongue from 'Lord of the Rings'. I think it is clear who is who, but just for the record:
Hith
(meaning 'mist') Heero
Laure (meaning 'gold' as in light and colour, not metal) Duo
Alda (meaning 'tree') Trowa
Quen (meaning 'speak') Quatre
Naur (meaning 'fire') Wufei
