Dark Fascination


by Asurahime



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Chapter One:

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Wishing on a dream that seems far off

Hoping that it will come today

Into the starlit night

Foolish dreamers turn their gaze

Waiting on a shooting star


But what if that star is not to come?

Will their dreams fade to nothing?

When the horizon darkens most

We all need to believe there is hope


Is an angel watching closely over me?

Can there be a guiding light I've yet to see?

I know my heart should guide me but

There's a hole within my soul


What will fill this emptiness inside of me?

Am I too be satisfied without knowing?

I wish then for a change to see

Now all I need...


desperately


~*~*~*~


Is my star to come?


I used to listen to a woman's quiet voice as she sang to me when I was young. Lulling me to sleep or stopping my tears, her serene demeanor touched the darkness of the world which surrounded me. Brilliance and dusk alternated every time I woke, but other than the woman's song, I was only aware of the startling green of her eyes. Sadly, it was the same color of reflected light which silenced her forever. Emerald was then replaced by crimson... or perhaps that was just the agony which exploded in my eyes and my forehead at the shrill screech of another.


The new rasping voice was... serpentine. No other words could have described it. "This is not the end of me, Harry Potter. My body may be destroyed, but my spirit will live on. I will not rest until the wound of that scar runs deeper than the false emotion called love. No matter if you live on and forget this moment, know that you belong to me. You are mine."


Indeed we have been connected since that moment: by blood, by hatred, and a beautiful, exquisite death. But... the only thing constant is change and blood calls out for power just as life calls out for love. There is nothing that I desire--not power, wisdom, or fame--but reason. I need a purpose, a goal which would give me a place in my life. I have no crime but this is my punishment. I have my wings but I am shackled to the ground. I can see but the world is engulfed in darkness.


I never did hear the red-haired lady sing to me again... This is my story.


~*~*~*~


"Wake up, cousin! Mum wants you to run an errand to the Aunt Marge's house!"


Harry Potter's eyes opened rapidly from troubled sleep as Dudley's voice rang through his ears like a knife, sharp and commanding. Putting on his taped up glasses slowly, the seventeen-year-old boy ran a pale, shaking hand through his long, midnight-colored hair, exposing a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. He sighed before stepping out of bed and tiredly pushed the door of the smallest bedroom open. The Dursleys would have kept him in the cupboard beneath the stairs, but after he turned thirteen, they grudgingly admitted that he could no longer fit in the small space.


Still, nothing had changed. Although there was not a mark on his immaculately pale skin, everyday was still torture for Harry. Because he has never been able to eat all he wanted, Harry grew up slim and fey-like. It was almost to the point where he could be called effeminate if it wasn't for the fact that he had grown stronger after being forced to do the most tiring housework for so many years. Unfortunately, Harry was not one to be rebellious with his aunt, uncle, and cousin. He could leave anytime he wanted, but there is absolutely no place he could go.


Petunia Dursley glared at her nephew as he entered the kitchen, tying back his raven hair with a piece of twine. No matter how much they try to cut the irritating strands, they always grew back with a vengeance. Thus, they had finally ignored it. Two emerald eyes peered questioningly into her own and Petunia's brows furrowed into a glare as she tossed a piece of hard bread and cheese to Harry. "That is all you are going to get tonight. Dudley and Vernon already had dinner and it is your own fault for being so greedy in the first place."


Harry caught the pieces and started eating them without complaint. That was another thing which disgusted the Dursley family. They knew quite well how terribly they were treating Harry, but his lack of complaints towards their provocation angered them to the extreme. Harry understood this game and played his cards as well as he could. He found out long ago that if he did not express any resentment or pathos, they would leave him alone. "Yes, Aunt Petunia. Dudley said that you had an errand for me?"


Harry could just feel Dudley's beady little eyes boring into the back of his neck with a barely-concealed hunger. It was no secret that Harry was beautiful with his silky hair, bright jade eyes, and milky complexion. There was just something about him and his innocence that Dudley wanted to tarnish and mark. Thankfully, he never acted and Harry remained oblivious to his intent.


The glare towards him increased ten-fold as Petunia shoved a package into his waiting arms. "Here, you lazy boy. Take this to Marge across town and don't bother her with your nonsense. I expect you back here in two hours. If you're not here by then, you won't get any meals for the next five days, do you understand?"


"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry nodded as he put on his worn out shoes and walked out the door, squinting as dusky twilight was cut by lamplight, spearing his eyes with radiant beams of white. It was always "lazy boy" or something similar. Never in is his life has Harry ever recalled the Dursleys call him by his first name... it was as if he didn't even deserve that. Perhaps he didn't... It was strange to be related to Petunia Dursley, for her flat blue eyes were nothing like the vibrant leaf-green of his own. His were similar only to a shade he remembers from a distant dream. Harry wished that his parents didn't die in a car crash, if only for him to see how their eyes were like.


But there was another pair he remembered. A serpentine voice and dark ruby eyes which bore into his own like freshly spilt blood from one's heart had gazed intently into his own. A scent of death and magic had permeated the air at that memory, so similar to this very moment. As Harry reached an empty crossroads, he was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn't notice a crimson pair of eyes fix themselves upon him.


"What in the--" A dark shadow fell upon Harry and his green eyes dilated upon seeing a black, ghostly contraption bearing upon him at an extremely high speed. He could do nothing but stare frozen in shock, and the last words to leave his parted lips were: "What on earth is a carri--"


Then, Harry knew no more as a haze of pain, red, and black overtook his world.


I'm dying...


~*~*~*~


A man with dark blonde hair pulled on the reins of the two black stallions, stopping them from moving further after running over an unsuspecting human. The mystic sneered with distaste as he leapt from the driver's seat and on to the blood-stained ground. His ornate black and silver robes reflected no light like his dark red eyes, and his presence radiated menace and bloodlust. Stepping around the carriage, he stood before the figure of the human he ran over and turned him over with his boots. Satisfied that the boy, no young man was dead, the mystic turned back to leave.


"Blaise, stop."


An authoritatively captivating voice that could have been either a man's or a woman's sounded from within the black carriage. "Why have we stopped?"


Blaise turned towards the door and bowed low even if he could not see the person within. "I beg for your forgiveness for the halt, My Lord. But while I had been driving, a human had gotten in the way of the horses and had gotten trampled to death. We shall continue now if you wish."


A long moment lasted before the musical voice spoke again. "A human? Is it a male or female?"


"It was difficult to tell from a distance, My Lord, but I discern that the human was definitely male."


"How old?"


"He was around his teenage years, My Lord. I believe around sixteen or seventeen years old."


"..........."


"My Lord?"


"How does he look like?"


"Pale white skin, slim build, long raven hair, and eyes that are greener than the glowing crystals of Facinaturu. All in all, he was not horrible to look at for a miserable human."


"..................."


Straightening up and walking towards the dead human once again, Blaise reached down and drew bloodied locks from the boy's forehead. "My Lord, this one has a mark for death. It seems as though he had been spelled, but another's life was sacrificed to save his." Red eyes flickered back up to look towards the being within the impenetrable carriage.


"Indeed. I felt his despair, his anger, his apathy, and his loneliness. All terribly useful emotions if he could harness them to his will. His despair could crumble the lively region of Koorong. His anger could burn the fruitful region of Kyo. His apathy could freeze the majestic region of the Magic Kingdom. His loneliness could be the divining force which could shape the region of Facinaturu."


Blaise turned white when he realized what his Lord was referring to. He knew that the other was simply speaking to himself, but the implication of the words floored him at that instant. Hissing, Blaise drew back his hand from the young man's forehead as though he had been burned. "What shall we do with him, My Lord?"


A long silence stretched between them as the black horses pawed the ground violently, their eyes wild with surprise and fear at the silver moon. It was now the deepest, darkest midnight. Mists rose up from the ground and flowed with the cold wind to light the path for the insecure. The fragrance of roses traveled with the wind but the scent of blood which hung heavily in the air dispelled any illusions of a beautiful night.


This was a scene of death. The blood which stained the ground, the hooves of the horses, and the wheels of the carriage were quickly drying into the color of dried rose petals. It was beautiful, but how far will the darkness travel?


"We're taking him."


Bowing in acquiescence, the blonde-haired mystic glanced at the driver's seat and held out a gloved hand. A second later, a black satin cloak was in his hand. Blaise's lips were white with distaste as he wrapped up the dead body with the cloak, carefully avoiding getting any human blood on his robes. However, the sight of the crimson flow forced him to realize how parched his throat was. He told himself that as soon as they reached Chateau Aiguille, he will rip into the throat of the first creature unfortunate enough to face him in battle and suck its power dry.


"Give him to me," said the voice before the door of the carriage opened. Blaise picked up the corpse and brought it next to the door. He then dropped his arms and waited until the body had been safely floated into the carriage with his Lord. "We shall not search for Zero Princess any longer today, Blaise. This finding is more important. Return to Facinaturu."


"As you command, Charm Lord Severus." Hiding a sigh of relief, Blaise leapt back into the driver's seat and grabbed the reins, viciously snapping them to set the horses moving once again. As the black carriage faded into the night, all that was left behind were the twisted and cracked pieces of metal and shards of what used to be someone's glasses lying in a pool of blood.


If one would have listened closely he or she would have been able to hear a melodic whisper beyond the sharp sound of cracking glass. "You are mine."



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To be continued...

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Disclaimer:


This is my first slash story ever, so I am sorry if it offends anyone. I decided to cross two things I really love, which are the Harry Potter universe and the Saga Frontier universe into a crossover-AU work of fiction. Thus, I own nothing. I'm not really too certain about writing this piece since this is a whole new frontier for me. Please bear with me and I hope you enjoy reading. I don't really know what the final pairing would be for this, but trust that there would be a lot on the way. Perhaps someone could give me some suggestions?



Notes:


~A mystic is similar to a vampire. However, mystics are free to teleport anywhere and are magnificent fighters. They can use either a sword, glove, or boots built from their own "mystical energy" to absorb the power of another. By taking another's blood, they can give eternal life by giving mysticism if they wish. However, if they give some of their own blood, the being given the blood is incomplete with tainted blood. Note that mystic blood is blue.


~The Lord of All Mystics is just as it says and is often referred to as Charm Lord. Not many beings, mystic or human can resist the pull of his charisma and often are immediately fascinated with him. The Charm Lord of this story also has 100 princesses in his "harem." He is attracted to beauty and doesn't necessarily swing one way. Trust that you will see familiar names all the time.


~Aside from Harry, the male characters of this story are free to move around and aren't constrained as the females. You guys will understand later.


~Voldemort, Death Eaters, Hogwarts, and other more familiar Harry Potter aspects are in my story, but not for this first part.


~Am I going too fast? Too slow? How is it so far? There isn't much slash now, but I have to build up to that. Please be patient with me, but I have to move in this pace to immerse myself into the story. After all, I don't really like a story when two people immediately fall in love without having a reason to. This is especially common in Draco and Harry stories where they may start out with a crush or are already in love without any true explanation. I admit that I love reading them, but I am sorry to say that it is difficult for me to believe them unless they are of an alternate reality.