A/N: Excerpt of poem from 'The works of Alexander Pushkin' by Random House, 1964
Working on a fanfic without any interest in finishing is a challenge, and a different learning experience.
Calm before the Storm
Bolting down the stairs, running past at least three sets of doors, racing across the field in the direction of the location mentioned, his heart was pounding with anticipation. Lemures had sighted someone nearby. It must be one of the two nobles staying at the mansion. Larva resolved not to say a single word to this stranger.
Arriving slightly out of breath, he saw a black-cloaked figure standing at the edge of the cliff demarcating the border of his godfather's lands. Taunts from Viedel, Olas and Lemures floated on the wind towards the unmoving figure and a face he could not see, since that one did not turn around. Young or old, man or woman, it was impossible to tell.
What was this feeling? Why wasn't the stranger reacting? He did not like the feeling, or the unknown he was facing now. The wind felt different and if he could understand what it was saying, he would have been a lot smarter before what was about to occur.
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Looking down the sharp drop of the cliff, Garline had never felt calmer. He could jump, if he chose, but there was no guarantee he would die. And did he really want to die?
To smell the salt in the air, feel the wind on my face... It is moments such as this I enjoy, especially after a game of chess. Another small breakthrough in my powers, which goes slower for not being practised through the usual methods… I can feel an invigorating surge in my veins. Yet, to reach that one crucial pinnacle seems so hard, almost impossible. I will get there soon. I must. I cannot bear the thought of heading back to our homeland with Father. I must get away. I want to find out what I need to know, to be myself and reach for a future I cannot yet grasp or envision. And if I am to succeed, I must be able to summon and wield the Death Crystal, if I am to conjure into existence a permanent medium with enough power to take me wherever I wish to roam.
These strangers are irritating. I ignore their childishly cruel intentions, but it seems they have no intention of halting their attempts at bullying, perhaps needing to be taught a lesson. Yet the pain inflicted by children can be far more devastating than adults, due to the absoluteness of their feeling being unmarred by other thoughts. They stand between the mansion and me. I must face them. I hope they will not push me beyond merely humiliating them, for their sake.
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So still, so silent. A lack of response combined with a lack of acknowledgement only served to further incense his friends, who had sunk into cruder language. The cloaked figure finally turned, seeming to glide over the boulders towards them. Lavender nails pulled the hood easily away from the face, stunning the rest of them into silence.
Long rays of the afternoon sun glided dark red hair, unbound and glorious, rendering them unsure of whether they were looking at a male or female. Loose tendrils framed an expressionless face, dignified and unmarked by imperfection. Fair skin was a beautiful backdrop to pale pink lips. A straight delicately-sculpted nose gave a sexless feel to the features. The folds of the cloak covered but could not mask aptly proportioned broad shoulders and a lean build, poised with regal authority. Everything became hazier, the moment they stared at his eyes.
Twilight beckoned, paler irises encircling darker pupils, even more enticing with long lashes. Finely arched eyebrows were not wrinkled with any emotion. Those eyes were... mesmerising and unearthly and expressive. The colour was treasure glimpsed only in dreams, contents speaking of innocence and sorrow so strongly, such a combination would have floored Larva and his friends if they had not been so entranced. Then he saw the wall of detachment appear in those eyes, turning them into reflective amethyst mirrors.
It broke the spell for Lemures, who immediately hated the reaction this stranger had provoked in him. For rendering him helpless and wanting... and the wave of rejection that he felt as those walls went up. 'Think you're so high and mighty just because you're nobility? You have no right to act so snobbish- Hey, are you even listening!'
Olas and Viedel had lost their powers of speech and movement in the presence of this apparition. All felt scruffy and unkempt in comparison to this… person, who defied all categories of classification they could imagine.
Larva could sense an undercurrent of strength and weariness radiating from the individual standing before them. Ha found it hard to believe this noble was a man. The foreigner did not say anything to them, as he walked past them. His appearance could easily rival the fairest maidens in the realm, and the aura he projected simply by existing was disarming.
As Lemures aggressively drew his broadsword with a sweep of unrepressed power, ready to activate his shinma powers and also summon actual combat armour to reshape and reveal his true self, grass and stalks tore themselves from the ground alongside withering flowers. The cloaked foreigner turned around and made a swift gesture to complete a spell initiated without their realisation, hushed murmuring becoming audible without any necessary reason, as if to mock them for cluelessness or maybe convey the aim of teaching them something.
A sudden surge of latent alien energy robbed them of calm and peace, the air suffused with a purple aura of stultifying pressure. The ground was violently stripped by an invisible hand to reveal the soil beneath, lines crisscrossing to form… a giant chessboard? Noughts and crosses appeared within carved squares. Larva realised a thin circle was appearing in the loose soil around each of his friends and himself, except for two lines appearing beneath the foreign noble. He and his friends were being marked with noughts, and the completed nought created a suction akin to a vacuum within its space, trapping his feet to the ground.
The crosses were all linked in a continuous line, breaking the erratic train of noughts. He could not pull free. What spell-
Ice-blue eyes darkened, as Larva realised the implications of this strange chess game relative to them. He looked up in time to see grass, stalks and flowers gathered and suspended into several huge tightly-compacted balls high above their heads, an eerie purple glow suffusing the mass of greenery further compressed with soil. The balls ruthlessly hurtled downwards-
An entire meadow of greenery condensed into unleashed potential exploded and buried Larva and his friends, as the foreign shinma from neighbouring western lands reached the mansion.
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Andeas' eyes were shining, while the scene played itself out. When the beautiful nobleman walked up the marble steps leading to the main entrance of the mansion, he paused midway, and looked up. A cool velvet gaze became kinder, as he recognised the young girl in her usual boys' clothes. The sweetness of his smile nearly made her drop Carlua.
Time was immobile in his gaze until he looked away, looking back the way he came, and finally went in, vanishing from her sight. Little Carlua would have been throwing a tantrum, except this lord seemed like a god to her. Another god, just like Larva. Both were very happy, and that was how the nanny found them: Lost together in the memories of the twilight stranger.
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Dinner was an edgy affair for Larva. The ornate dining room with lavish settings and too many candles did nothing to help his nerves. Lord Garline Heliopolis, introduced by Lord Tauron Heliopolis as his son, did not mention the incident earlier in the fields, behaved as if Larva did not exist, and made no effort to talk to him. In fact, this foreign shinma noble who had caught his interest did not speak much throughout the meal, eating little, drinking mostly water, and eventually pleaded a headache while hardly suppressing eagerness to get away from the table. Was it because of him?
Pazusu could sense tension in his godson. Larva had basically been pushing around the food on his plate, swallowing some peas, but otherwise hardly looking up from the fork he was wielding.
As Garline disappeared up the stairs, Tauron apologized for his son's behavior. 'Forgive his abruptness, Lord Pazusu. He is slow to warm to others, but when he does, he considers you a friend for life… although that has not happened in a long time.'
The other elder only nodded in understanding. He had a feeling something had happened after Larva had left him that day, possibly running into young Garline Heliopolis, but what had transpired? He could not surmise. However, he recognized rejection in all its forms, and Garline was not subtle about rejecting Larva as a person to acknowledge or befriend.
Breaking out of his thoughts, he realized Larva had vanished from the table. Young people... his godson had not listened to his advice and was probably regretting whatever he had done earlier.
He focused on Lord Tauron, to distract him from thoughts of the melancholy young man, and to make his guest laugh. Being the father of Garline was not an easy task. Soon, the camaraderie between the two elders warmed the room once more.
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It was impossible to deny: Garline was powerful. Few western shinma were of similarly young age, yet able to wield such magic spells with ease. Larva had realised the gulf in power between both of them, and wanted to gain this particular shinma's friendship and respect. Right now, he was wondering if he had ruined his chances of becoming friends with this intriguing nobleman. An air of tragedy coupled with unforgettable beauty only made the mystery of Garline Heliopolis more intriguing. However, he was not about to give up on becoming acquainted without at least one concerted effort. Where had that one gone?
The library door was slightly ajar. Taking a deep breath, Larva stepped in.
And stopped, drinking in the sight before him. Why couldn't the noble from over the seas look... human, instead of extraordinarily breath-taking? Moonlight slanted across numerous shelves of books to rest on the slender figure reclined in a plush armchair. A dark chocolate cape was draped across one crossed leg. Another stray lock of hair trailed across his face to rest on a pale rose shirt. Index finger resting on closed lips, purple eyes seemed lost in contemplation of the book opened on his lap. Shadows touching that face gave delicate sweetness a masculine strength and combative edge, etching itself into Larva's memory.
'Are you just going to stand there gawking at me, or have you come to find a book? This is the library,' was a disconcerting reminder. Wry amusement was tinged with wariness.
Larva wondered if Garline was aware of being able to disarm or agitate both males and females alike without doing anything, merely by existing. Shaking his head, the shinma with much-shorter hair crossed the floor quietly to stand in front of Garline. 'I wanted to-' Clearing his throat to relieve the huskiness in his voice, he tried again.
'I would like to apologize for the actions of my friends and I this afternoon. It was uncalled for, and very rude.'
No response.
'I hope that despite all this, I can still call you a friend someday...'
He was suddenly riddled with unknown nervousness, yet still elicited no response from the young man who never looked away from the book. Inwardly disappointed with an alien sensation of something sinking in his belly, Larva turned to leave, when a gentle request reached his ears.
'Wait, my heart is not that strong. Please help me to rise.'
Turning back, he saw one slim hand extended towards him. A smile brightened the seriousness of Larva's pale face, in turn causing Garline to return the smile. Attention from unnervingly beautiful purple eyes created unexpected warmth in his chest, and that smile did something to his throat.
With a firm, strong grip, Larva hauled Garline to his feet, and then steadied him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Garline looked him squarely in the eye and said, 'There is no need to apologize for your friends. You did not say or do anything, although there was great satisfaction in watching each of you try to make your way out of being plastered with grass, flowers and soil...'
A chuckle completed his sentence, purple eyes suddenly widening as red nails encircled his throat. Startled, Garline looked up. Blue glaciers met lavender honeysuckle.
Being this close to Garline, Larva had the urge to do something... but he wasn't sure what. Shaking his head and laughing softly, he released his fingers from a smooth unmarked throat, and reached for Garline's other hand. He was pleased to note no startled reactions or objections from the other man, save for one raised eyebrow.
'Let's go somewhere else, instead of this stuffy library. Have you met my little cousin, Carlua? She's very sweet...'
Protests from Garline became fainter, as Larva pulled him along and they headed towards the nursery away from the library, a forgotten book of poems abandoned on worn wooden panels of the library floor. An unseen wind ruffled the pages of the poem last read.
[ ... And with a sword he clove my breast,
Plucked out the heart he made beat higher
And in my stricken bosom pressed
Instead a coal of living fire... ]
