Dark Fascination


by Asurahime



~*~*~*~

Chapter Seven

~*~*~*~



If this was not so deep underground, I would not have wished for the sun. I would not have wished for a world far, far brighter than the reflected light from a diamond. If I had not lived, I would not have known grief. If I had not died, I would not have been reborn to suffer the pangs of such loneliness.


How could something so beautiful be so corrupted? As bright flashes of light could summon quick death and as eternal life could bring the hope of an end, power can be either a blessing or an injustice.


A half-forgotten voice winds through my dreams at night, wrapping itself around my figure like a garrote. Razor-sharp threads twining around me like thorns. Unending pain lancing through me like despair. Blood quickly spills from where they touch, dying white skin with a brilliant shade of violet. No matter how many tears and no matter how much pain, I want so badly to struggle and fight.


But I am not ready for the worst. I am impure and tainted with sin and blood that isn't mine to begin with. To spend forever walking through this rose-entwined prison with a name that should be forgotten and an identity that is not mine. I must burn in the eternal crimson flames to purge my soul of my dark life. Not all endings can be beautiful.


Endlessly clear white.


~*~*~*~


"How are you liking the Chateau Aiguille so far, my Prince? I certainly hope that you are enjoying yourself." At the corner of Harry's eye he saw flashes of light green hair and pale orange robes which betrayed the presence of Cedric, Charm Lord's Black Knight.


"Are you actually expecting me to get used to a creepy place like this?" asked Harry in grim retaliation, not surprised that yet another mystic would appear to confront him during his walk.


Cedric merely smiled before taking out a black rose and placing it on the breast-pocket of Harry's robes. "That is very good to know," he added as he trailed a white gloved hand on the pale curve of the younger boy's jawline. Harry had never noticed it before, but this mystic's eyes were different from that of others'. The Black Knight's eyes were azure, as with many other mystics, but they reflected nothing but the dark burn of insanity.


The half-mystic found that he could not move as Cedric advanced even closer to him, gentle fingertips starting to trace the jagged edges of the silver scar and sapphire eyes drowning in deep verdant. "You are not a rose like any other, my dear Prince. Foolish mystics would have ridiculed me, cowardly mystics would have avoided my gaze, and the others would have just patronized me at my 'delicate mental state,' yet you had not done any of those."


Green eyes narrowed slightly, more with confusion than with irritation. "What does that have anything to do with me? Besides, who are you?"


"What are you doing to that half-mystic, Cedric?" drawled a familiar voice. Draco glided down from the middle of one of the many staircases of the castle of Needles and confronted the two men in the courtyard.


Cedric simply smiled kindly in return, not removing his hand from Harry's face. "The Prince of All Mystics is not a rose, do you not agree, Draco? Princess Hermione?"


The rose gate leading to the Throne Room soundlessly opened and the rose-crowned girl walked towards the small group. "I am afraid that I do not quite understand what you are saying, Cedric."


"It's good to know that I'm not the only one," murmured Harry as he brushed off the offending hand. "How could I, of all people, be similar to a rose?"


"But that is the point, you are not. Your Highness," whispered Cedric with almost reverent admiration. "A rose would not do justice to the one who could reset the clock of Facinaturu. As you can see, time means nothing here and nothing ever changes."


Hermione clutched on to Cedric's coat with a hint of worry on her face. Not a trace of a smile was visible on her lips. "Cedric, Lord of All Mystics, what--"


White-gloved hands buried themselves into long, black hair before Draco almost violently pulled the half-mystic away. "There is only one person who is capable of resetting the clock of Facinaturu. That person is you, beloved Prince of All Mystics."


Harry found himself becoming more and more uncomfortable as the cold fire in the Black Knight's eyes burned into his own. ".........."


A black wing shielded the half-mystic from the sight of the sapphire-eyed mystic. Draco drew Harry away and kept both arms around him. The Prince of Darkness was so deeply appalled that he didn't notice his charge grow still and even more troubled. "Don't be foolish. Are you saying that this boy is capable of possessing that kind of power?"


Orange robes flowed with an invisible wind as Cedric drew another black rose from them. With a glint in his eyes, he turned the rose over and showed a sharp silver blade. He brushed past Draco and Hermione and removed the first black rose from Harry's robes. Slowly, the green-haired man threw it, followed by the poison-edged rose, which speared it in mid-air. "I am not saying anything to answer that. Let me just say that some mystics are already growing fearful of Lord Harry's growing power." As the bladeless black rose faded into silvery ashes, Cedric turned and drew even closer to Harry so that the others may not hear. "You are not Lord Severus' 'son' and you are not one of his 'roses.' You are far more refined that that. You are an amaranth. I deign to make you my amaranth."


Three different colored eyes followed the Black Knight's figure as he walked away. While two were fearful, one was merely confused.


Draco ran a hand through his white-blonde hair carefully, slightly mussing the fine strands. "Cedric. He has finally snapped."


"He's as intense as usual."


"Is he the only one other than Ron who is happy around here?" asked Harry to Hermione, glancing momentarily at Draco, who was not paying attention.


The tawny-haired princess blinked at the question. "I beg your pardon? Happy?"


"Well, almost all of the men in this castle are always frowning and stalking around as if they are constantly oppressed."


A dark shadow passed over Hermione's features and she held on tightly to Harry's arm. However, her eyes remained fixed on the mosaic rose floor. "They do seem that way, don't they? There is one other, but..."


"Enough," came another's rough voice from behind them. "Lord Severus has summoned the three of us." Ron pointed to himself, Hermione, and Draco. There was a slight sneer on his face as he matched the Messenger glare-for-glare. He and Hermione vanished first, but Draco turned around and pinned Harry in place with an intense stare.


The Black Wing's lips slowly formed into a smile which did not reach his eyes. "Cedric left on foot? He must really be trying to show you respect." Two heartbeats later, Harry found himself alone in the dark courtyard.


Looking to his right, he saw the gate leading to the the town of Rootville. Slowly, Harry stepped up and touched one of the light-lavender roses twining around the bars. This was really much like being caged. Although the purple traces of his blood was gone, the half-mystic found himself cringing from the remembrance of pain. Cold filled his heart as he steeled himself and rested a hand on the vermilion sword at his side. Harry could not help but feel sickened of how quickly he is accepting and adjusting to his surroundings. The disappearance of his surprise at finding people appear and disappear at any time was only one of the factors contributing to this.


For now, leaving the Chateau seemed like a good idea. Even if only for a fleeting moment. "How did Draco do this last time....? I am Harry. Open the gate."


Harry quickly sprang back, his crimson and black robes swirling around him, surprised by the loud screeching of the slowly opening gate. It sounded similar to the sharpening of a sword or the death cries of the condemned. With Draco, Harry did not have the time to notice this; but alone, it was the only thing with penetrated the veiled state of his mind.


~*~*~*~


Walking through the dim streets of Rootville, Harry was surprised to find himself standing in front of the ebony door of the tailor's shop. "... How did I get here?" murmured Harry. Wordlessly, he placed a white-gloved hand on the door's handle and pushed it open.


"Welcome, how may I be of--!!" The red-haired tailor's smile quickly faded upon seeing the elegant half-mystic in the open door. He held on to the edge of the table in the middle of the room to support himself, but his composure was quickly falling apart. "Y-Yo-Your Highness! Was there a-anything wrong with--"


The raven-haired half-mystic raised a hand tentatively, silencing the worried man. "No, there was nothing wrong with my robes, thank you." Although the words were sincere, Harry was surprised to see the red-haired tailor slump to the floor, his courage failing. "What is the matter?"


The man looked up at Harry with stricken blue eyes. "Please, please do not take Tom away, he is just an innocent boy and has never caused anyone any trouble!"


The half-mystic was taken back by that. He did not quite understand what the man was saying, "Why on earth would I want to do that? I'm human just like yourself."


Harry stared at the man on the floor before raising his emerald eyes to the stairs leading to the upper levels of the tailor's shop. Calmly sweeping past the tailor, Harry was amazed at how the man had not resisted as he climbed up the stairs, vermilion robes trailing after him.


When he reached the top of the stairs, the first thing he saw was jet-black hair similar to his own. A split-second later, red and green clashed. Tom's breath hitched up in his throat and he turned around, fearful of the intense leaf-green outlined by white and night.


Stepping closer to the taller boy, Harry raised a hesitant hand to show that he means no harm. "Hello. I'm Harry."


"Y-yes. Please forgive me," stuttered Tom as he buried his face in his hands and shakily walked up another flight of stairs.


"A strange boy." The half-mystic's eyes followed Tom's figure as he ascended the flight. Harry could just feel the discomfort radiating from his figure in waves, not even needing to see the instability of Tom's steps and the unnatural paleness of his complexion. It was fear.


Easing his grip on Asura's hilt, Harry ran a hand through his hair, removing the loosened crimson ribbon and retying it tightly. Stray strands of hair, black as Draco's wings framed Harry's face softly and with a white-gloved hand, he pushed said strands away from his eyes and behind his ear. Disconcerted at how the tailor's apprentice was acting, the half-mystic followed up the staircase.


"I am sorry if I have done something wrong. I didn't mean to embarrass you or anything of the sort," said Harry as he leaned against the railing of the stairs, marveling at the amount of clothes in the room.


Tom's shoulders hunched then relaxed, finally turning around to face the majestic Prince of Mystics. "Forgive me, your highness. I was just startled to see you again. It's been so long since I have seen a new face."


Walking to the middle of what appeared to be the shop's attic, Harry's face was showing awe and slight apprehension. "How long have you been here?"


Finally relaxing in the fascinating aura which seemed to project from his new companion in waves, Tom bowed his head and gingerly touched a length of cloth-of-gold. "I've been working for my master for three years now."


Harry walked towards the small window of the room and looked at the dark and lonely streets outside. The glow of the crystals bathed his face with an eerie, surreal light, making his green eyes even brighter. "Three years? What was your life like before?"


"I don't remember. All I know is that the only beings native to this region are your Lordship's kin, the Mystic race."


"You have no family anywhere?"


Tom shook his head, the dark strands falling in front of his crimson eyes. "I remember nothing from before. All I can recall is my arrival three years ago and getting used to being in the service of my master and Chateau Aiguille."


Hours passed with neither Harry nor Tom thinking about the time. As Harry left the shop after the lengthy discussion, Tom was amazed upon realizing how everything they have talked about seemed like a blur. "So terrifying, yet he was so beautiful. I never would have thought that the famed sleeping Prince of Chateau Aiguille could be so kind."


~*~*~*~


"Kurenai. He is not only the Eternal Flame, but was also the first mystic to ever grace the regions."


On the way back to the Castle of Needles, Harry recalled the mention of Kurenai's dwelling from Hermione. Winding his way towards the fiery caverns which houses the Eternal Flame, Harry slowly drew Asura and stepped inside. Although there were no visible signs of life, the half-mystic found himself stunned upon seeing the interior.


Crystalline flowers wound themselves around the walls, stones glowing every possible shade of red bathed the flowers with what seemed like blood, and a narrow ledge jutted over a pit filled with lava. Silver-grey mists rose from the trench, but belying the color of the area, they were as cold as the north wind.


From within the walls of the cavern, a voice resounded. "Welcome to Facinaturu, Lord Harry. I am Kurenai, the Eternal Flame who resides as the heart of this region."


Harry brought down his crimson sword and momentarily dropped his guard. This may have been the first time he had ever heard it, but there was something about Kurenai's voice that he couldn't help but trust. "So you are Kurenai. Hermione told me about you."


The sound of Kurenai's voice settled over the green-eyed half-mystic like a cloak. "Then everything you have heard is true. There are not too many mystics one can trust these days, and I could think of even more who cannot trust themselves."


"What about you?"


"Yes?"


"Can you trust yourself?"


A low chuckling sound filled the cavern, amused and sincere. "Trust, my child, is a virtue which resides in a pure heart. One who cannot trust one's self lives a cursed life."


Harry's silence told Kurenai volumes. It showed his confusion, his disbelief, and his acceptance. "I trust you. I don't know if I'm signing my own death warrant, but I choose to trust a voice in a dark cavern I know nothing about."


".......... You are unlike any mystic I have ever met. Not even Seamus, brash as he is, compares to you. You, Lord Harry, are the first in so long who have shown me even the slightest hints of being about to think for yourself." Kurenai paused for a minute, as if stunned by the idea. "The only other mystic I can remember acting even close to as you did was Severus himself."


Green eyes filled with pain upon hearing the name. "Why does everyone keep on comparing me to him? I am no Charm Lord."


The Eternal Flame tsked and dimmed slightly. "Perhaps, but you have the potential of becoming one. Being half-human also means that you can develop the skills that a human being has."


"And what are those?"


"Endurance, vitality, courage, hope, humility, the ability to preserve yourself, love, humility, and..." The voice stopped for a moment and Harry could just feel invisible eyes on him.


"And what?"


"........ Sacrifice."


A hollow laugh erupted from Harry's throat. "Sacrifice? When I have nothing left that I can say is truly mine? Bloody hell, I need to find a way out of this place before I go mad!"


"You are right. Facinaturu and specifically, Chateau Aiguille has the power to drive even the most obstinate to accept and become a part of its darkness. Severus is more than likely waiting for the moment when you break and comply to his every wish. That is what has happened to all of the one hundred mistresses he has had so far. It never fails. Only Zero Princess had managed to break the trance, but that cost her her life." The Eternal Flame grew slightly brighter. "Although, I must say that you are quite an extraordinary mystic to have made it this far while keeping your will intact. To add on to it, you're partly of the human race, who fall before this spell in hordes. Charm Lord must be getting frustrated by your determination against surrender."


Sheathing Asura, which he didn't realize he was still holding, Harry crossed his arms over his chest and pulled slightly on his choker. At least he now understands why he was starting to act and think so differently from normal. It was a risk, but he had one more question for Kurenai. "Kurenai, you wouldn't happen to know of a way out of here, do you?"


"Would you really place such faith in me?"


Harry let his arms drop to his sides, a fragile hope building up in him. "Yes."


"........... Return to the Castle of Needles and do not let your guard down."


~*~*~*~


Sprinting up the walkway leading to the chateau, Harry stopped in mid-stride as soon as he got past the gate. He felt himself grow rigid with anger as a scythe reflected green eyes back to him. The mystic holding the scythe smiled tauntingly and bowed, not taking red eyes off of the half-mystic for even a moment. But before he could even open his mouth to deliver a sharp welcome, Harry was already half-way across the rose courtyard. "Hey."


Blaise's eyes narrowed with irritation when he did not get a reply. "Ignore me will you? Nice attitude."


The younger mystic's reply was cutting and tight with rage. "Are you talking to me? Sorry, but I have nothing to say to someone who has tried to cut me down."


The Hunter Knight stepped back with mock-indignation. "Try!? My dear lord, I believe the correct word is did!"


Two seconds later, the raven-haired boy had Asura's point right on Blaise's throat. There was a burning fire in his eyes and bright sparks of static glittered in his hair as he pushed the shining edge lightly over the vein on the black-robed General's neck. "Do you really want me to return the favor? I know that mystics are immortal, but I have only experienced my own death as a half-mystic. Shall we see if the same thing really applies to full mystics? Hermione and Ron have taught me enough to know that I could just keep on cutting you open and letting you bleed to death."


Even with that threat, Blaise remained calm with the flashes of Fascination breaking the solid crimson of his eyes. "If you do that, sweet Prince, then I suppose that you do not ever want to get out of this castle. Fine with--"


"Tell me!!" The command rang out loud and clear. Harry's eyes were brightening into an electric jade as he levitated two feet off the floor. His robes started to swirl about him with an invisible wind and he removed Asura from Blaise's presence. He would never realize how much he looked like Charm Lord at that moment of pure desperation.


The other knight reeled back in shock. Blaise knew that there was great, yet dormant mystic energy buried deep in the back of the tainted mystic's mind; he just didn't know that the power would be so dangerous and uncontrolled. And enthralling. "In t-the town of Rootville is a pub... y-your highness should be able to find what you seek there."


Harry descended to the floor, eyes glazed with weariness and despair. Not even sparing the disappearing Blaise another glance, he turned and took two running steps.


Right into Draco.


"Watch where you're going!!" sneered the blonde-haired Messenger, surprised that a mystic would be clumsy enough to crash into him. He held on to Harry, about to give him a piece of his mind before noticing the clothing of the person. His sneer vanished into a scowl as he held his charge at arm's length. "Oh, it's you."


The half-mystic stopped struggling when he realized that he was trapped. Raising his face, he saw quicksilver eyes and cringed at the disapproval and vexation they conveyed. "Draco..."


"What is it?"


"C-could you please let go of me?" murmured Harry, feeling as if the mystic's grip was going to leave bruises on him.


Draco's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but dropped his hold reluctantly. "You better not be causing any trouble."


Harry flinched inwardly but didn't let it show. Sighing, he just shook his head. "I'm fine. I'll see you around." The green-eyed boy made his way past Draco and down the gate, not realizing that he had never sheathed Asura and not noticing the growing skepticism on his instructor's face. Knowing quite well that this may be the only chance he would even get to leave the tyrannical castle behind, the half-mystic returned to Rootville. The thought that Blaise may be lying never even crossed his mind.


Nearing the shady looking tavern a little ways from Marcus' shop, Harry finally regained enough of his senses to sheathe his weapon before entering. Needless to say, he was not very surprised to see that the place was just as dreary and barren as the rest of Facinaturu. He had not even taken five steps into the room when he heard someone sigh from his right.


"What a bloody dreary pub this is? Where is all the dancing and the singing and the wonderful service?" complained a teal-haired young man from behind Harry. He had his feet propped on a table and his hands behind his head. The chair he was sitting on was tilted back so far that it looked about ready to overbalance and send its occupant sprawling on the ground.


Lips thinning to hide an amused smile, Harry turned around and walked towards the table, standing beside it and focusing his gaze on the man in front of him. "You're not from around here, are you?"


The man grinned lightheartedly, entranced by the half-mystic in front of him. "What are you talking about, of course I'm from Facinaturu. I must say though, I rarely see someone who has such amazingly green eyes as you. Even the Mystic-kind doesn't have too many of them. That's what you are, aren't you?"


"Don't lie to me, I need a way to get out of here," stated Harry. "And no, I'm only half-mystic... or so I'm told."


The smile on the man's face didn't fade as he shrugged. "Girl, boy, mystic, half-mystic, human, or amazing bouncing ferret, it doesn't matter to me as long as you're able to pay."


Turning even paler than he already was, Harry rested an unsteady hand on the edge of the table and the other on Asura, his eyes trained to the dusty floor. "I... have no money with me..."


"I'm sorry my friend. As attractive as you are, I can't take anyone out of here without paying a fare. I don't believe that you would be willing to pay with your body and I am not interested with disinclined partners, no matter how enchanting and aesthetically pleasing they are."


Quickly shoving himself away from the table, the half-mystic refused to believe that he would be stopped so short from attaining his freedom when it was so near. Then an idea almost sent him reeling back. It was a risk that he would just have to take. "Please excuse me..."


"Wait." The human took a small key from the chain around his neck and placed it on the crimson-robed half-mystic's hand, curling his fingers around it. "My name is Terry. I can give you three hours. If you find my money by then, use this key on the door behind this tavern. Inside, you will find a white cross hanging from a wall. It will ask you for a password. After you supply the password, follow the passage all the way to the end. I will be waiting for you there."


Terry had already gotten up and opened the door when Harry realized something. "T-Terry! You never told me the password."


"Oh, that's right," he smiled. "It's 'a beautiful departure.'"


Harry watched the teal-haired man fade into the darkness outside before looking at the key in his hand. So close yet still so far away. He went out of the pub, closing the door quietly behind him. Brushing the fringe of his hair away and pocketing the precious key, the half-mystic saw a familiar figure walking towards the tailor's shop. Before he could stop himself, he had already called on the person. "Tom!!"


Tom turned around, a smile lighting up his features when he saw the red-clad figure of the Prince of All Mystics. The first friend he can remember. The only friend he can remember. "Hello, your highness. May I be of any service to you?"


Doing some quick thinking, Harry's lips thinned when another idea flashed through his head. It may not be the most proper thing for him to do, but he was desperate. "Actually, yes. You wouldn't happen to have some human money on you, do you?"


The tailor's apprentice blinked, slightly surprised by such a strange question. After all, what would the Prince of Chateau Aiguille need human currency for when they are given everything they wish? Despite his wish to help the half-mystic, Tom remembered one very important detail. "I am sorry, your highness. I would help you; however, my master keeps my salary for me."


Thinking that he should have known better, Harry shook his head and sighed. No sooner than he left the tailor shop and took a step on the bridge leading to Chateau Aiguille when he saw a red-haired man and tawny-haired princess make their way towards him. "Ron? Hermione?"


Twin smiles greeted him as Hermione clung on to his right arm and Ron threw an arm over his shoulders. "Nice to see you again, Lord Harry. Should we go again?"


"W-wait!" Harry remembered his idea from before and he realized that it was now or never. "Would either of you happen to have any human money with you?"


Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. Apparently, they were thinking the same thing that Tom was from before. The Strategist raised both hands in a gesture of apology. "Neither of us has any money like that. We never really needed to purchase anything after becoming mystics. Everything was provided."


"Draco would probably have some, perhaps--"


Growing whiter with fear of discovery, Harry replied too quickly. "No!! Please don't tell him!"


Exchanging glances once again, the two mystics led their charge back to Rootville, their speaking voices lower than normal. "Why not?"


Asura flashed momentarily, reflecting its wielder's disconcertion. "I... you two are the only ones I believe I can trust in that castle. I need the money to get out of here." Harry found himself looking into wondering pairs of blue eyes.


The Strategist spoke first, running his hands through his unruly red hair, messing it up even further. "Bloody hell, Lord Harry. I should have expected that you would pull off something like this sooner or later." For his use of language, he got a glare from Hermione. "Honestly Ron, you should watch your mouth around Lord Harry."


Harry hid his face behind a gloved hand, face tinted with a light lavender from the title. "Please you two... call me Harry."


"Oh, sorry... Harry. We just forgot." Ron smiled, followed by Hermione. He also removed two rings he wore on his fingers and one of the silver daggers fastened to his belt. "Don't worry, we won't tell anyone about what you just told us. We may not have money, but these are some things that you may be able to sell."


Hermione reached for the clasp of her necklace and unfastened it, then she took off the two bracelets she wore. "Here, take these too, I don't really have a need for them."


Speechless with shock and gratitude, Harry bowed his head and smiled in thanks. However, he soon looked up to see the same mischievous little smiles on the Strategist and the Arch-Princess' faces. "....... Nothing comes without a price, don't they?"


Both mystics burst out laughing, using Harry to support themselves and nearly bringing him down to the floor with them. "You certainly catch on pretty quick, don't you, Harry? The request is simple. Just take us with you. After all, Charm Lord told us to watch over you and be your guides."


"Besides, neither of us have seen the outside world for so long that we have forgotten what it was to have even the slightest sense of freedom. Neither of us have seen the sun and a clear sky for so long," sighed Hermione.


"Sure that bloody git, Draco was also one of your guides, but the two of us should be enough to protect you. Traveling as a group is better than traveling alone. So what do you say?"



If this was not so deep underground, I would not have wished for the sun.



This was something Harry didn't even have to think twice about. "Of course."


~*~*~*~


The key fitted perfectly on the lock. Too perfectly, Harry thought as he turned it and pushed the door open. Entering the door, the three mystics found themselves inside a normal-looking house, furnished with everything a human would need. In the right corner of the house was a small bed, a table and chess set, and a map showing the region of Facinaturu and many others that Harry was not familiar with. In the left side of the house was a small desk with the same glowing crystals as outside, a few comfortable-looking chairs, and a bookshelf filled with books.


"So this is how humans live? Things look less fancy here than back at the Chateau. It will be interesting to study these things when we are outside again," smiled Hermione as she moved to read some of the titles of the books.


On the other hand, Ron had quickly moved to the other side of the room which contained the chess set which currently had an abandoned game. Contemplating a move, his face showed no hint of what he was thinking. He moved the black queen two spaces forward, glancing at the work before him. "Interesting."


Footsteps sounded behind him as Hermione moved a white knight which used to be in front of the white king to take the black queen. She smiled slightly as she waved the piece in the air. "Got careless, Ron."


The other merely smiled as he moved his black bishop to take the said white knight, also putting the white king on check. "Hermione, Check........"


Moments later, the Arch-Princess found that she could not move any of her pieces to save her king. The Strategist had her surrounded. "No way..."


"......Mate." The grin on Ron's face widened at the look on Hermione's. "You were the one who got careless, Hermione. That move from before was called a 'queen's sacrifice.' You shouldn't have been so eager to take it. Ah well, they don't call me the 'Strategist' for nothing, you know?"


Rather than sulk, Hermione smiled at that when she saw the half-mystic prince trying to hide a smile behind a gloved hand. "I see. Thank you for that piece of advice, Ron."


"Anytime, Hermione."


While the two started to fix the chess board, a glint of white caught Harry's eyes against the dark walls of the room. A white cross hung still and silent, almost glowing in the soft light of the crystals. "This is it."


"Did you find what you were looking for, Harry?" asked Ron as he and Hermione stood behind their prince.


Nodding his head, Harry reached out a hand and barely touched the cross. Immediately, he pulled his hand back as if he was burned. Purple writing which looked amazingly similar to the shade of Harry's half-mystic blood wrote something across the horizontal length of the cross. The three mystics just stared wonderingly at it.


Password...?


"A beautiful departure," stated Harry, not even bothering to think since he had the words memorized by heart. He never bothered to ask why "password" was being asked when the said password was a phrase. Suddenly, the bookshelf that Hermione was looking at before creaked then moved aside seemingly by itself. "A secret passage, I should have know."


As soon as the three of them entered the secret door and went down a ladder, they found themselves in what looked like the caverns underground the region. Ron turned to look at Harry, face tinged blue with amazement. "Bloody hell, Harry. How did you find out about this?!"


Would you really place such faith in me? Return to the Castle of Needles and do not let your guard down.


"I visited Kurenai, who gave me a hint, but it was that mystic who stabbed me from before who really showed me the way out," replied Harry, wondering if he is sane to still trust the Eternal Flame who guided him to such a dreadful enemy. He then began walking, thinking that it would be unwise to stay in one place for too long. Thankfully, the glowing crystals also existed underground. Ron followed right behind him.


Hermione walked a little faster to keep up with them. "'That mystic who stabbed you before'? Who are you speaking of? How did he look like?"


"He was blonde with dark, red eyes and black and silver robes. He was also carrying a rather large scythe around with him."


Involuntarily, Ron felt his hands clench in anger. "Blaise. I'm not too surprised that he would do such a thing. He is such a pathetic excuse for a high-class mystic."


"Oh Ron, he would say the same thing about everyone else. I must admit though, the description and personality does fit the image of Lord Severus' General," said Hermione. "I have a bad feeling about this."


"Don't really have much choice in the matter, do we?" smiled Ron. "But I'd rather be here than back there, learning how to fade in and out of existence and torturing low-level creatures in the training area when that bloody git isn't there."


The rest of the way was spent in silence, the three of them wary of any trouble which may appear. At the end of the caverns, Harry ran out in horror to see nothing but a deep crevice. Looking down, they could see nothing but darkness which seemed to go on forever. "What's going on!? Terry's supposed to be here!!"


"Who's this Terry?" asked Hermione, but before Harry could answer, they felt a strong mystic force moving quickly towards them. "Someone's coming."


Ron leapt in front of the half-mystic and Hermione, raising his right hand in the beginnings of a spell. "They're soon going to be here. The energy they're giving off is too strong for just the regular mystic fighters. It's probably some troops and one of the Princes."


"Let me talk to them," started Hermione, starting to walk past Ron and Harry.


The half-mystic stepped in front of both of them, drawing Asura and facing the way they came from. "No, I'll fight."


"But..."


"It's too late for that, Hermione!!" hissed Ron. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but of the Princes remaining, which are Cedric, Blaise, and Draco, I hope that the one coming now is that bloody vampire of a Grim Reaper. The worst will be that miserable git with wings."


"Who is a miserable git with wings?"


"Damn...."


Draco stepped out from the shadows, a disapproving frown on his face. The blonde-haired knight raised a hand and the three errant mystics were quickly surrounded. "I must say that I am surprised that the three of you would go through such lengths and I commend you on your perseverance." He then strode up to Harry and caught the half-mystic's face between his black-gloved hands, drowning deeply in bright green. "The fun is over, Prince of All Mystics. Did you actually think that Lord Severus would let his most beloved person escape so easily?"


Without warning, Harry drew up Asura, slamming the flat blade of the sword behind Draco's legs and sending him sprawling in the dirt in a bundle of dark blue robes, platinum hair, and black feathers. "Don't you understand!? I would rather die than go back there!"


Before Draco, Hermione, Ron, or anyone else could say something, Harry had broken away from everyone. His robes trailed behind him like a phoenix's tail feathers during its flight. Draco quickly jumped to his feet, forgetting about being angry for once as he and Ron rushed after the half-mystic... who was heading for the edge of the cliff. "What are you doing!?"


It was too late. Harry only spared Hermione and Ron an apologetic glance before throwing himself off the cliff, preferring to be at the mercy of the jagged rocks below rather than be taken prisoner once again.


"HARRY!!!!!" screamed the two mystics who had followed the half-mystic's footsteps.


"That stupid fool!!" growled Draco as he jumped off the cliff following Harry, wings momentarily retracted to allow him to free-fall in the hopes of catching his emerald-eyed student.


Time stood still and not a sound passed from the edge of the cliff where the mystics who followed the Black Wing, the Strategist, and the Arch-Princess awaited the reappearance of Draco. None of them dared move and the tension in the air was so thick, not even a knife would have pierced it. It was a moment when neither life nor death mattered, only fate.


Seconds later, a harsh cry sounded from the edge of the cliff, echoing through the caverns. The mystics stood perfectly still as their eyes followed a dark figure with white-blonde hair be forced back up by an extremely strong wind. A split-second later, Draco sailed and was slammed bodily against the hard, limestone walls of the cavern, away from the cliff's edge. He struggled to stand, but managed to only kneel.


The tawny-haired princess' eyes widened at the sight as she raised her hands to heal him. However, the cries of other mystics around her cut into her concentration. "What is going on!?"


From within the darkness of the cliff came a loud, mechanical noise. Ron, Hermione, and Draco watched with bated breath as a human -made mechanical contraption known as a regional airship rose higher. What their eyes were most riveted to was the raven-haired figure kneeling on top of the airship's wings, alive and unharmed.


Draco saw what was happening and leaned against the cavern walls to draw himself up. Although he could never show it on the outside, he was smiling internally even as his followers were thrown over the cliff by the gale-force winds of the airship. It actually worked. His face twisted into a fierce scowl as he shouted over the noise. "How dare you bring a filthy human machine to Facinaturu!! Give back that half-mystic!!"


Jumping quickly from the wheel, Terry opened the door and raised a hand to pull a stunned Harry from the top of the ship. "I'm sorry I'm late," he said, smiling boyishly. The teal-haired man then opened the door wider to let Ron and Hermione jump in. "Hurry up and get in!! We have to get out of here before any more of them come!!"


As the Strategist, the Arch-Princess, and the Prince of All Mystics entered the airship and waited for Terry to get them out of there, Harry's eyes locked on with that of Draco's. To his utmost surprise, there was a genuine smile painted across the features of the one known as the Black Wing, Prince of Darkness. And it was for him. Confused even further, Harry did not break eye-contact with the platinum-haired knight until they were just too high to see any more of Draco. "I don't understand..."


As the altitude stabilized, Terry set the autopilot and walked back to see what he had picked up along with the half-mystic from before. "Sorry about that. I didn't think that I would be that late."


Harry shook his head solemnly, still unable to get Draco's smile out of his mind. "No, thank you. If you hadn't been there, I don't know what would have happened." He took out a bundle from his pockets and gave it to the pilot. "I couldn't find any human money, but I hope that you'll be able to sell these things and get more than enough compensation."


Terry smiled and ran a hand through his teal hair, amber eyes glinting wearily. He gently took Harry's right hand and kissed the back of it before turning it over and returning the bundle. "That was enough compensation. Keep this, after all, it was my fault that you almost got killed. I can't take what probably is extremely special to you when it was an error on my part."


The half-mystic tried to say something, but the pilot had already moved away. "....... Thank you."


Ron and Hermione soon broke out of their trances enough to walk up to Harry, sitting down next to him. The Arch-Princess wrapped her arms around the half-mystic's waist and rested her head on his shoulder as the flame-haired Strategist draped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, burying his face in the half-mystic's hair. "Charm Lord will probably be after my blood because of this. Draco too."


The two mystics just clung on to Harry tighter, as if he would disappear if they didn't keep a firm hold on him. "No, Lord Severus would probably be angry at the two of us because we had disappointed him. You are too precious for him to be harmed. Now that you have escaped, you are even more beloved to him." Ron drew Harry's head to rest against his shoulder and he gave Hermione's hand a reassuring pat. "You need not worry about Draco because he was the one who sent us after you."


The half-mystic stiffened in the embrace of his two companions. He once again recalled the wistful smile on the injured Draco's face as they disappeared into the ocean of stars. "What are you talking about?"


Yawning slightly, Hermione raised intelligent blue eyes to gaze into her prince's. "Did you actually think that the two of us met you at the bridge of Chateau Aiguille by chance? There is nothing you can hide from the one called 'The Messenger,' Harry. Draco knew from the very beginning what you were planning to do and that is why he tricked Blaise into telling you of the location of the hidden passageway at the right moment."


"But what was with the acting? Why couldn't you have told me from the very beginning?" asked the half-mystic, holding on to each of his companions.


"Charm Lord Severus has eyes everywhere, Harry. We could not draw any suspicion on this plan until we got you out," smiled Ron as he started to fall asleep.


Harry himself was falling asleep, the day's events were quickly catching up to him. "Then just answer me this. Why would you all risk so much just for me?"


"We don't know." Hermione smiled sleepily as she kissed his cheek gently. "But we do know that you are the only one who has ever tried to give even the tiniest semblance of life and freedom in that place. We choose to put our trust in you rather than Charm Lord."


"........... Would you really place such faith in me?"


The two mystics sighed in unison, holding on to their new leader like a lifeline. "Yes."


"Why?"


Ron smiled slightly, kissing the jagged edges of Harry's silvery scar before surrendering to sleep. "As we said, we don't know. We just can't help but be fascinated by you."


"Fascinated by me? Like the spell Charm Lord has everyone under?" Closing his eyes, Harry allowed himself one more question, not even staying awake long enough to hear the answer to it.


"No," whispered Hermione to the sleeping half-mystic. "We all are honestly falling in love with you. Forgive us."



~*~*~*~

to be continued...

~*~*~*~



Disclaimers:


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.



Notes:


~Not too many notes about this section except that Harry, Ron, and Hermione have successfully escaped from Facinaturu. This is also the longest chapter. I am terribly sorry for not updating for a couple of months, but I hope that this made up for it.


~Amaranth is a legendary undying flower. Amaranthine means something immortal or endless.


~Terry is Terry Boot from Ravenclaw. I needed just a minor character for his part.


~If something isn't unclear, please inform me so that I can clear it.


~This whole story has not been corrected by a beta-reader yet. Sorry for grammar errors, tense changes, etc.