Finally! Some main GW characters showing up! It's about time, ne? Don't worry, the rest will eventually pop by. Eventually.........

(((Huge thanks to Memeal for all her constructive comments on this fic. You've really made my day, especially since you're the first to review in this fic. Thanks a bunch!!! I do hope I get to carry out your expectations and I certainly hope that all the thoughts that went into this is original! - I will try my best! Thanks again.)))

Anyway......... on to the show!

blah - shift of scene, people, time, etc.; a completely different story

Note: I am going to start treading with religions here, so please don't kill me!

The Chronicle of Abaddon

--- First Blood ---

The First Seal: Patriarchs

the Earliest Fathers

Identification of the Mark

:::: Mark of Death ::::

"So the Lord put a mark on Cain, lest anyone should kill him at sight" - Genesis 4:15

Sounds of stifled sobbing was what first led him to this place. Debris crunched underneath as he cautiously moved forward, eyes glancing from time to time to crevices that could very well hide potential thieves and murderers. This place was certainly well known for them, and while Omri knew he could very well protect himself, the lurking danger was still enough to caution him from being too bold and overconfident.

Then, just as suddenly, the pale-skinned man stopped, head cocked thoughtfully as he tried to zero in on the source of the sound. He knew it was near, but something else kept on distracting him from finding out. Where -

Golden eyes narrowed in the dim light, noticing that while he was preoccupied, much of the shadows had been moving erratically around him, as if to taunt him with their very presence. He could almost feel the mist of their breath, the pounding of their little hearts; hear the voices in their head, beckoning him. They were much closer now, so easily in position to attack him. Even the abandoned buildings around seemed to conspire against him, closing in, cutting him off; breathing his every breath, sucking out all but his very being until nothing but his senses remained, heightened and focused.

A feral smile slowly formed on his face, frightening to those who knew him well enough. Yesss, he thought as he licked nearly-colorless lips in delight. This was the moment he had been waiting for.

For years, he had starved himself, keeping a promise he gave to his parents - No. Foster parents - he fiercely corrected his thoughts. They were not his anymore. They hadn't been for the last three years, when they had finally died of starvation, leaving him alone once more. He had been too young then, still powerless to save them, even if they wanted it - which they didn't.

They had known who he was - he couldn't really keep it from them especially as he grew older in his human body, with the need, the hunger, nearly driving him insane. But instead of shunning him, they grew even gentler, more loving and caring. They would give him fresh meat whenever they could, and allow him to hunt little animals on his own when they couldn't. But they always prevented him from seeking human flesh.

"Killing", they had said, "is a great sin."

Only out of his great love and respect for them, had he agreed, reluctantly promising to never seek that carnal desire of warm flesh, while deep inside, he knew that someday he would break his word. Killing, afterall, had always been part of his nature.

So with great delight, he now found himself after his self-imposed starvation, in this darkened alley with boys nearly half his age, heart beating wildly, stomach growling almost continuously that for a moment he thought the others could hear it. His bright cat's-eyes were fully glazed with lust for the warm blood he knew was just underneath those frail skins. Afterall, even if he already had three years to cope with his endless hunger, seventeen years was still a long time to wait. And indeed, his hunger had been endless.

And still, the tableau never broke. No one made a move against him even as time crawled sluggishly into half minutes.

The howling of the wind, managed to rid him of his momentary madness, and slowly shaking his head, Omri silently berated himself for his loss of control.

They were just children, shadows protecting their turf from outsiders. He had no right challenging them into something they were not yet capable of. He took a step forward, then another, and another. The shadows disappeared and the crumbling walls returned to normal with every step he took.


The sound of the flute drifted in the early morning, causing Arjun to wake rather pleasantly from a previous night of dreamless sleep. He looked up at the still-lightening sky, marveling it as always as it slowly welcomed the first of the sun's rays, shifting from deep blue to folds of brilliant sky blue, yellow, and even tinges of pink. He had always loved the rising of the sun. For him, it was a signal of a beautiful day, another chance of living life anew.

"Meiran."

Music stopped from flowing almost instantly as the holder of the wooden flute gently set it aside. And as it had always been, rather part of a tradition Arjun had grown used to by now, various animals ranging from the colorful birds that perched on branches, to lions that snuggled close to her, and even to the snakes that slithered at her heels, seemed to snap back to their own lives and roles in the wilderness. She had always been able to do that. A feat that her husband took pride on, even if she had no intent on boasting this special gift of hers to others.

She can most certainly captivate any living creature be it a human being or an animal just by the simple act of playing her own type of music. Every being seemed intent to listen to her and whatever command she sends through her music, they immediately follow. She can paralyze any thought within her prey's body, and subject him to her every whim, though she had never taken advantage of this knowledge.

Arjun shook off his early musings just in time to see her lean close to him, smiling what he noted was a very mischievous one. This immediately put him on his guard. Though seemingly gentle and out-spoken on the outside, Arjun knew better to realize that today, his young wife was feeling quite –playful- on the inside.

From his peripheral vision, he took note of the other animals as they slowly made their way back to their own habitat, apparently disappointed that she had stopped her ritual earlier than usual.

They were alone.


He had remained huddled in the little niche they had found earlier, shivering, tired, cold and wet, yet not daring to even move away from the damp place. Solo told him to stay there until he came along to fetch him. He wouldn't dare disobey that order. He knew that right outside his place was pure chaos. Only death would await him out there. But Solo knew that he would be safe in this place, that no one but him would find it, so he stayed put. He wouldn't get hurt here. He would be safe, just like Solo said. He trusted Solo. Solo knew everything.

Then why wasn't he coming back?

Solo always came back for him.

He tried to smother another sniffle of fear, as a knot of pain twisted his stomach. It was a pain he had grown used to over the years, but it still hurt. He was hungry. And tired. And sleepy. And - and......... scared.

No, Solo wouldn't leave him. He had promised, hadn't he? He would come back and everything would become the same all over again. He would laugh and joke and tease him for crying too much, and he would get angry at him again, then they would play and never be sad again.

Why wasn't Solo coming back?

He already missed him, and Jeb the trickster, and Lily, Marie, Joseph, Ralph, little Mei, Hanah and Tarah the twins, Dev, and Sister Helen, and Father Maxwell, and the orphanage, and the fruit stand that he always loved to steal from, and - and.

He wanted to go back home.

Where were they?

Solo said that he would pick them all up and that they would move to another place, somewhere safer, where the police haven't rounded up all the strays yet. Then he would persuade Father Maxwell and Sister to go with them too, and they would be a happy family once again.

He wanted that. He knew Solo wanted it too, and so did all the kids.

So why were they taking so long?

Was this all a trick? Did Jeb manage to convince Solo again to go with his plans and let them make a prank on him again? He smiled. Haha. That was it. They were just hiding from him. He's gonna get them all, and then he'll show them just exactly why he was the next leader.

But he couldn't go out yet. There were still so many people outside, and he could even smell the smoke from somewhere quite near their place. Why was it taking so long to burn? He thought it had been going on for hours already. And why was it so loud over there? So many people shouting and screaming and crying over each other, that he knew Father Maxwell wouldn't approve and get mad at all of them if he knew how to.

It wouldn't do him good to get captured that easy, while the others were laughing at his expense. He had to be careful. Solo said that these people were dangerous and he knew he would easily attract attention, coming out from where he was crouching now.

He wanted it to end already.

With another sniffle and shiver, he placed his forehead above his crossed arms and started mumbling silently for Solo to get him out of there soon. He would have prayed, but he kept forgetting the words that Sister Helen insisted he memorize.

A couple more hours had passed, when he opened his eyes once again, yawning from the slight sleep he had been in. Everything was much quieter now, and the crowd had already left. Now Solo would come for him, together with their family.

He self-consciously scrubbed his face, trying to clear the suspicious tear tracks that had managed to escape his eyes. Boys didn't cry. It had simply been the cold affecting him.

Anytime now and he would hear his older friend's voice, with that soft accent of his mixed in with that humor that never seemed to leave him, assuring him that everything had turned out according to their plan.

Yes, he could even hear the footsteps now, with that slight scuffling and shuffle as he avoided the things that littered the place. He crawled out of his temporary sanctuary, glad to be able to fully stretch again, ready to welcome.

Mist had once again covered the entire place, and he frowned slightly. It wasn't that he had problems seeing in the dark, but something sounded odd in his ears. Those footsteps sounded heavier, and they clicked against the stones. Solo had always been quiet. They all had to learn to be one, unless they wanted to be discovered early on and caught before they even got anything. The one that was coming towards him wasn't Solo.

He was just starting to crawl back, when he caught sight of the man and the slight figure that he was carrying in his arms. With a strangled gasp, completely forgetting all of Solo's warnings in the past to never approach anyone unarmed and to never trust those people, he ran towards the two, his eyes fixed on the slumped burden being carried.

He could never fail to recognize that light blond hair that traveled to just past his shoulders, nor those liquid amber eyes that were squinted against some pain. Everything to his build and the clothes he wore definitely showed him to be Solo and no one else. His Solo. And he was injured.

Those two thoughts were the only things running in his mind, as he cradled his nearly limp form, taking him from his savior with barely a glimpse back.

"Solo? Solo. Solo!" He bravely kept his tears in check as he saw how torn and bloody his clothes were. He was practically bathed in his own blood, and his pale features only spoke further of his condition. "What-?"

"Shh.little one."

"Solo! Tell me what to do! There- there's blood. and- and I can't......... can't stop it-" He was trembling all over now, as his hands tried to staunch the gaping wound, which turned into a strangled sob as he saw a piece of wood still sticking out of his chest. To his utter amazement, his friend just smiled at his efforts and shook his head.

"Hush. You gotta get movin' now, kid. There's no one left for you-", coughs racked his frame for a moment, before he continued on bravely, ignoring for the moment the frightened face of his charge. "-to. take care of."

Widened eyes struggled to comprehend the meaning of those words, before he remembered those godawful screams and smells near the-

The church!

"Noooo.no! No! No! No! You're lying! You must be lying! It isn't true, Solo, right? It's just. It's just." Of course it wasn't a joke. Nothing was a joke anymore. It was reality.

Bloody hands, cold hands covered his for a moment, making him realize that he had been gripping too tightly shoulders that now seemed so frail under him. Then they slowly traveled upwards past his still-quivering lips to eyes that were now round and full of unshed tears.

As if finishing a masterpiece, he gently swiped it to gather a drop of moisture that fell unbidden, then dropped it to his side once more, as if it took all of his strength to lift it just for a moment.

"Promise me kid- promise me you'll. live. and be strong for." More mumbles, too incoherent and too soft to be heard passed, before luminous eyes looked at the young one's bright eyes, begging him to understand.

Then seemingly satisfied with what he found there, the youth gave a soft sigh, and amber eyes that once help that spark of life and laughter dimmed and faded away. No sound of distress had ever been uttered to mark the peaceful passing of one's dear, and if one looked at his handsome young face, for a while it would seem that he had just fallen asleep.

But to the one he left behind, turmoil and distress are all that is felt. Tears that he had been holding were finally released from its depths, and with an anguished wail of one that has lost everything, he mourned not only the death of his best friend and leader, but of all that he once knew and cherished. Of his friends and companions, of his guide and of parents he had hoped them to be to him someday, of his home. Duo Maxwell mourned for his life and for all that he had a chance to be but was never allowed to happen.

On that forlorn alley shrouded in the dark, all that could be heard were his cries. 1


Arjun lovingly stroked with one hand the cascade of black hair that was carelessly splayed across his chest, while his other hand reached for the rest of the body that he knew was snuggled by his side, and pulled her sleeping form closer to him in a half embrace. It was indeed a beautiful morning and he would have been content to just lie there and while away the rest of the day in peace.

However, just as he was relishing the merits of that particular idea, he felt Meiran stir awake, long lashes fluttering softly against his skin as they opened to reveal twin dark pools of fathomless depth. Then again, just as he was thinking on how good it would be to just drown in them, his companion lightly nudged him in the ribs.

"What?"

He burrowed deeper in the soft covers, turning to his side to be able to tighten his hold on his wife, ignoring her feeble attempts of protest. With a sigh, he closed obsidian eyes very much the same as the ones he had been staring into, and prepared to go to slumber once more. He was stopped from drifting off by another elbow nailing him in the stomach.

His "What?" this time came out as a grunt.

"I need to go."

"Later," came the mumbled reply.

"Now."

"Hmmm."

" 'Fei!" 2

Arjun was honestly considering getting some more sleep, when his mind finally sensed the urgency in his wife's tone. That thought clearing the last vestiges of fog from his mind, he immediately let go and allowed Meiran to stand up and walk towards the clearing she had earlier played in.

Propping himself up with one arm, black shoulder-length hair falling out of his face allowing him a clear view of what was about to happen, Arjun patiently waited for him to arrive. Past experience had already shown him what to expect when his wife was acting in that manner. He didn't even bother trying to hide his nakedness - it wasn't as if he hadn't seen both of them in similar situations more times than he would want to count. Besides, trivial manners of clothing were not reason enough for him to pass up the opportunity of seeing Krishna 3 again.

Krishna was, for lack of a better term to use, their clan's guardian. He was their god and they followed in his footsteps, and in return he warns them of incoming dangers, and listens to them. But of course, their relationship with him was much deeper than that. Unlike others, he did not abuse his power over them; rather he used it for the benefit of most. And they were not simply puppets that exist to grovel and serve. They thought for themselves, exerted their opinions and views, and lived as free men. In the end, it was a peaceful symbiotic relationship -one they actually respected.

Arjun sat up higher, a light smile growing on his features as he saw the first tiny flickerings that surrounded Meiran, growing into a solid hue of blue, deep and crystal-clear at the same time. Krishna was coming, and though it would kill him to admit it, he actually liked the god, and enjoyed the moments they could spend together. He was honorable and had this glitter in his eyes that belied his great sense of humor and kindness.

Though, he wondered as he always did, why the man liked to come at such inopportune moments.

"Wufei."

The soft, lilting voice effectively brought him out of his thoughts, making him realize that during that short amount of time of introspection, Krishna had already appeared. He looked up and met knowing, yet gentle sky- blue eyes.

"You misunderstand," Arjun replied softly. "I am now referred to as Arjun. Chang Wufei is no more."

Ever since his people had divined from the elder that he was to be the destined husband of Meiran, they had immediately and insistently cut him from all ties to his past. He was isolated, forbidden from training with weapons and even meeting with his family. The warrior line of the Chang family, his heritage and lineage had been methodically cleansed from him, in order to make him worthy of being near, much less touched intimately by the Avatar of their god. 4 Depraved from all contacts with the outside world, with his only solace books that his kindly caretaker had smuggled for him, he had grown bitter and lonely.

When he had first met Meiran and through her, Krishna, he had hated them.

Of course, the feeling did not last long. Animosity simply did not work for the two, and over time, their careful explanations and loving nature wore down on his defenses. It seemed impossible to feel anything but love towards them.

Late at night, when sleep eluded him or he was simply just thinking, Wufei would silently thank those people who had forced him into this situation with all sincerity. While he had not forgotten his old life as a Chang, he was content and happy with his new one as Arjun, protector and life-mate to Meiran, second Avatar of the Lord Krishna.

In the end, most had forgotten the boy he had been and freely referred to him as "Arjun". He had insisted it. Only Meiran he had allowed to call him by his real name.

So why was Krishna referring to him as otherwise today? He seemed to like his new name before.

Not breaking their locked gazes, the god slowly walked towards him, long brown hair swirling around him at his every move. Arjun watched, with a seemingly detached air as Meiran who had until now remained immobile, walked towards him as well, a solemn look on her face. He wondered again -for what seemed like the millionth time- how two beings who looked completely different from each other could look awfully similar at the same time. As a matter of fact, they were identical to everything but their appearance.

Kneeling down in front of him, Krishna tenderly cupped his face, and softly brushed lips on his forehead, as Meiran settled by his side and encircled him in warm arms. Comforted, Arjun briefly slid his eyes close and leaned closer to them, allowing himself to wallow in the security they offered. Somehow, he knew that this would not last long, and tried to get as much of it as he could.


Omri watched impassively, letting the child mourn and cry to his heart's content. He was not worried about someone coming there to investigate the source of the sound this late in the night, if anyone even cared at all. It had been a tragic experience, and quite hard for someone so young to bear, and so he gave him enough time and space to try and put himself together.

Though, as he watched the little one hug his friend's cool body closer to his, rocking and whispering promises and threats in his ear, he wondered if this one would still be able to. It was rare for a person to lose everyone he had ever loved in one stroke. And from his own experience, Omri knew that those who survived either quickly followed their family to the other side, or went insane with the effort. And they had been far older than the boy in front of him.

And still the man waited. For what, he wasn't sure himself.

It had begun to drizzle, the cold drops of water bordering on hail and rain, and still his cries never abated. He had not even left his position after an hour, and continued to cling to his older companion, gaze never leaving his pale face, as if by will alone he could bring him back to life once again or at least change what had happened.

'Perhaps,' Omri thought, 'he wanted to die as well.'

A foolish move, but what could he expect of humans? People do foolish things when their emotions get in the line. He had even come to expect this of others, but somehow, he was disappointed that this boy was just like all the rest.

'What a waste of great potential.' It was a pity that he had come to like the boy in the short time he had been with him.

He had been turning around, about ready to give up on the boy ever recovering, when it suddenly happened.

"Thank you."

It was spoken clearly, lucidly, despite the fact that his voice was roughened by the recent abuse it had gone through.

The blond froze in his movements, and slowly turned back to face the kid. It was the first time he had the chance of looking closely at the young one, and despite the little lighting provided for by the heavens, had no problem scrutinizing him from head to toe.

Amethyst eyes were what first pinned his glance. They were like the priceless and most beautiful of jewels -expressive, deep, and wholly captivating. Intelligence and curiosity shined through the grief and pain in them, instead of what he had originally feared to find there: dull acceptance of death. In a flash of insight, he knew that this was the one who had called for him tonight, the voice he had heard and followed.

The next thing he noticed was the chestnut hair that fell in a somewhat rumpled braid down his back. It shined with such marvelous shades of the earth from the deepest browns to ones with the lightest kiss of gold, that to simply call it chestnut is not enough. Add that to the rest of his fragile features, from his heart-shaped face, though smudged with dirt and grime, to his little point of a nose, and Omri could easily see the innocence and kindness the boy radiated.

It was no wonder the other one had cared for him so.

Shaking his head slightly, he offered him a slight smile, not perturbed in the least when it wasn't returned. "It was nothing."

"It was everything to me."

"I understand."

Those amethyst eyes quickly looked up at him, and he caught a faint hint of surprise there. He supposed he wasn't one of those people who consoled others saying that everything would be alright, even when they already knew it wouldn't be.

He would not lie about such things -it never was in him to lie-, and he would not hide things from him, knowing that there wasn't much he could shield him from in this world anymore. The child in his eyes had been forced to grow up too soon, too fast, and he would treat him as he would treat any adult. It was for the best.

And he knew that his efforts were appreciated.

Funny how those eyes reminded him of someone from his past. A flash of someone with silver hair that fell just above his hips, anguished golden eyes staring at the two dead forms of his only family. And Omri closed his own golden eyes. It was enough that he had survived. Remembering things would do nothing to help him at this point. Not when he had someone to help now.

"Tell me kid, what's your name?"

"Duo. Duo Maxwell."

"Maxwell? Wasn't that the name of the church?"

"Yeah. We all took it for our last name. Father said it was okay since we can't remember ours."

"Indeed? It must have been interesting."

The rest of the night traveled by in a blur, as the older man learned more about his new companion. After taking care of Solo's body, as Omri later on learned his name was, they had returned to the Maxwell Church and buried the remains of everyone they had been able to find. It had not been easy, but in the end, it had made Duo at peace.

Now, they were resting by a large tree that towered over the graves they had recently made, watching the sky. Omri knew that time was slowly running out. He could already feel the sun peeking in just above the horizon, and knew that he had better move fast before the townspeople noticed his presence. But he had no intention of leaving Duo alone. He had decided sometime during their talks that he wanted him for his companion. He had been far too lonely in his short life, and wasn't about to let go the only friend he had found in all these time. The only thing he needed was his agreement.

"Do you believe in vampyres?" 5

The child in him looked confused for a moment, before thinking the question over. He was probably used to his topic-changes by now.

Just what were vampyres? Duo knew he had heard that foreign word just recently, something about the unsolved deaths of people that had started about three years ago. Ah! That was what they called it - the undead. How someone would just sneak by an unsuspecting victim late at night and then drain his blood.

It must have been a horrible feeling. Duo shuddered. From what he heard from the elders of the town, a demon must be using it to help revive himself and hide himself among mortals.

"I don't think so. Because if I believed in them, then it would be like saying that I believe in immortality. And Death is the only thing I believe in." He tilted his head back, watching the other's reaction closely, and upon finding none, continued in his soft, quiet voice. "Everybody dies sooner or later, right?"

Omri was stunned. The child truly had matured overnight, it seemed. And while his belief in the inevitability of death was acceptable, given what had just happened, the older man found himself laughing for no apparent reason.

"Come, child." He abruptly stood up, stretched sore limbs, and held out his hand in front of a stunned Duo. "I'll show you just what death really is."

It took the braided boy only a few seconds of thinking before he hesitantly reached for the hand and allowed himself to be hauled up.

A second later, the two figures standing by the large oak tree vanished from sight, the rustling of the breeze the only faint indication that they had been at that spot only a moment ago.

"Wufei."

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes once more upon hearing that voice, obsidian seeking light-blue for reassurance.

Krishna smiled and squeezed his hand in return. He still found it amazing after all these years how great the proud young warrior had changed. And now, he was afraid of what would happen when he forced Wufei to return once more to his old ways.

"It's about the prophesy, isn't it," the raven-haired man whispered, surprising the older one. Of course he knew. Wufei always knew things like that.

Krishna nodded. Secretly though, he was mightily proud of the young man in his arms. The warrior inside the boy knew what to do; the husband in him knew it must be done, no matter how he hated it.

At least now, the most pressing problem is done and dealt with, thankfully with no complications.

Darker days were descending more quickly than he had anticipated, and they must be prepared to fight against it, at all costs.


1. I'm sorry for messing up Duo's history!!! I do realize that this isn't what happened in his Episode Zero, but this was done for a reason! I mean, during those times (waaay back in the past) it would be harder to explain something like a "planned plague" to drive people out rather than intentionally starting a fire, you know. So sorry again!

2. This will be explained in a little while for those who are confused.

3. Krishna, also known as Shree Krishna is a known Hindu god. He is most often described in the Ramayana (a Hindu play) as a handsome, flute- carrying man, who often helps righteous people, rights the evils and does justice to the wrong-doers.

4. Avatar (from the Hindu religion) - resurrection form of a god

Krishna is said to be the eighth Avatar of Vishnu (the Preserver), which means that when a part of Vishnu was reborn on the eighth time, he took on the form of Krishna. I'm not quite sure on how it goes, but Vishnu would still be present (and still be the same god), even when Krishna and all the rest of his forms are born. Get it? I know I'm confused. But that's how it is.

Meiran then, as an Avatar of Krishna, would be in a sense his reincarnation form, making her divine and near-godly as well. That would then explain why she also plays the flute!!! And her powers!!!

5. Old term, old spelling of vampires.