Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. I repeat, NOT mine.
A/N: This is where I officially start my fic. Just to help you understand the fic better. Here is how you say many of the OC's in my characters. Malanah's father: Anton Wolfe, Mother: Glorya (Gloria, only with a 'Y'), Brothers in order from birth: Menetite (Men-eh-tight), Tren, Vlad, Peneth (Pen-eh-tha),Kreyl, (Kuh-Reh-L), Andros, Adieon, (Aid-E-un), Creston. Little sister: Mistiana (Misty-ona) Her friends are: Ares (Air-s) Halyne, Kia (K-eye-ah) Kentori (Ken-tore-E), Iliara, (Ih-lee-R-ah) Avari. There. That should be good for now. For those that actually READ the A/N's thank you for pronouncing the names right. As you can tell, I like oddly spelled name and strange ones as well. Thanks for reading, now on with my Fic!
Chapter 1- Shadows from the past
Flashback
She had awoken, screaming, that early dawn. Panting hard, Malanah Wolfe looked around her room. The sun wasn't even up yet. Her room had been coated with a pale rose colored-grey, the kind of light that made you think you were just only coming out of a dream. The kind of light that made you blink your eyes before sitting up. Normally, Malanah would have stayed in bed, awake, still watching the colors of her room melt from a soft grey, into a bright amber-yellow. Today, she only untwisted her light blankets from her legs and pulled them up her knees. Instead of watching her room brighten, today was another day to ponder of unremembered dreams. This had happened many a time in her 16 years and this particular dream was no different. Biting her lower lip as she pondered, she shook her chestnut hair from its captured position as a ponytail. The now-freed hair tumbled down her back and fell with a soft thump when it finished. Malanah ran a hand though it, easing the stiffened pieces from their place against her scalp then gave her mane a good shake. Golden strands of hair flew in all directions, slapping pillows, bedding and her face, of course. After pondering her dream a few minutes longer she decided that her concentrated attempts, whether her hair be up or down, was rather worthless. If it hadn't come to her now, it most likely wouldn't, and must have not been of great importance.
She reluctenly forced herself on slide her legs out from under the warm spring covers and her feet onto the floor, only to find a pair of soft lavender slippers, tickle her feet. She slipped into them, feeling the cool interior mold to her feet. Now, her room was becoming a silvery color, with many more nestled inside the silver color, the grey and pink still fighting to shine through her window. She turned her attention to the sound of a closing door.
'Odd', she thought. 'Who would be leaving the house before the sun is even up? Surely no one had that pressing of a need to leave.' She stood then, her sky-black night gown, falling from the bed to the floor, covering her slippered feet entirely. Her honey-golden hair fell with the gown, a sharp contraction of colors. Her hair reached to the bend of her knees and in the summer months she kept it in its trademark ponytail. For her full 16 years of life her mother would only allow her to trim it, occassionly, if even that. But Malanah had become accustomed to caring for such a mane, the brushing, the washing. In the back of her mind she knew her Mum had done the right thing in keeping her daughters hair long and luxurious.
Softly, she opened her bedroom door, stepping into the hall with only the 'twpht, twpht' of her slippers on the hardwood floor.
"Mother?" she called just above a whisper but the call seemed utterly louder when the echoed finally died. It was eaten up by the frost in the air, the grayness of the fog itself choked it out of any life. She took a few cautious steps from her room. Her skin prickled from the sudden drop of tempature from her room into the hallway.
A shadow rounded the corner. "Where is everyone, Mallie?" a voice asked. Malanah felt skinny arms go around to her back. "Why is it so cold in the hallway?" Malanah let herself relax. She hadn't been the only one awake at this hour, or who had sensed the tempature drop. Mistiana, Malanah realized. Mistiana had their mother's fierce green eyes. The kind of eyes that were bright with knowledge but also held secrets. She had long chestnut hair, down to mid-back, also like their mother. From her father, she inherited the pale, freckles skin. Only at age eleven, Malanah's younger sister had begun to take on many traits from her older sister. Within the past year, her last year before her schooling had began, Mistiana had become reckless, an unquenchable fire, like her sister. Malanah knew she was trying to win her over, but Malanah had told Mistiana that she needn't be exactly like her, they were not twins after all.
Both girls had suffered enough from their elder twin brothers, Andros and Adieon, who were fair in complexion compared to the other siblings, with honey colored eyes and their hair resembled their younger sisters. Even though the boys were at the age of 18, they continued to think of the world was an endless playground. For them, the rules of life had been put on hold for the time being as they "Embraced themselves" as they called it. To Malanah they were only reaching for the same excuses they'd used their whole lives, and not finding anything to grab hold of, tumbled into the world, each looking for more fun the he could handle. In the twins' journey to find fun, they each suffered from a serious head trama, commonly known as, amnesia. Neither knew who they were when they had woken up but the shouts of those who knew them that had witnessed the fall, reminded them of their names and precious little about their lives before the fall from the tree. The fall had been 6 years ago, on Malanah's tenth birthday. What a nice gift that had been, her wonderful twin brothers staggering through the door, knowing not much more then their names, and even that, they did not know which name went to which twin. But years had past since then and their memories had regained strength, causing them to remember events in fast forward, sometimes even in rewind, yet the name issue was still a common and very large factor in their lives. Her mother had said time and time again that they had chosen the right name for the right twin, and there was nothing to fear. Only recently had Malanah discovered, while accidently evesdropping on her parents conversation, that what they had told the boys' has been an uncertain lie to quiet them. Now they were back home with the rest of the family, neither giving up his craving of causing trouble and mishap, no matter what trouble came their way with it. The incident of falling from great heights out of a tree had only scared them temporaily. "We have the rest of our lives to worry about fear and adultery things", they had told her once. "Why not use now, the present, for fun?"
Malanah had never been able to have much fun. Being the first girl in a household of boys, 8 older brothers, she had been thrown the endless chore of house cleaning and food preparing. She hadn't minded. For once she could do something her older brothers could not. Cook. Cook well, maybe was the better word for it.
Feeling a pair of hands hug her tighter caused Malanah to retch herself away from her thoughts. The two girls stood there for a few minutes, shivering and holding onto each other. They both knew something wasn't right. "Mistiana, why are you out of bed so early in that day?" Malanah asked, when she could stand the silence no longer. Mistiana looked up. "I head someone leave the house. I've checked the boy's rooms and no one is in the house, Malanah. Where could they all be?" "Lets check garden, shall we?" Malanah offered, her teeth chattering badly, and taking Mistiana's shivering hand.
Malanah wanted to grab a blanket and say a fire spell of sorts or at least something to warm her sister up, the journey down the hall had become colder with each step, but the rule was that they couldn't use magic when Mum or Dad wasn't there. Which was a lot. Malanah's parents had never told their children what they did as a living, not even the eldest, Menetite at age 24, but a lot of the times, they were gone. But none of the kids had ever asked. They had gotten along fine, the money wasn't that tight and food was always available. 'If Mum and Dad can get us food then knowing what their job is, is really not that important to know.' She thought. 'Some thing's are better left unsaid' Her father had always told her that, and she understood.
Malanah squeezed her sisters pale hand. This had always set wonder on Malanah's mind. She, herself, had been what her dad called a 'Natural Wolfe' at birth. Her complexion held the most moderate of a natural tan anyone from her fathers side could have dreamed of having. Her eyes were a bright gold with a haze of a distant green. Her body was lean from a fast metabolism and her hair, like Mistiana's was a golden-chestnut.
Through the double doors they rushed out of the freezing cold house and onto the white veranda and patio. The mists that had found its way into the house arose thickly around these areas. The clouds were so dense that there was no distinction between them and the fog that covered the ground. Malanah hugged her little sister tighter to her. "Are you cold?" she asked with concern. Mistiana was answered with a no but it was the shake of her head that gave away her answer not her voice. It had been covered up with another cry.
"Malanah!" a voice called, penetrating the stillness of the early morning. The girls turned, sensing the eagerness in it. "Kreyl?" she asked. Kyrel was the 5th eldest brother and nicest, according to Malanah. He was at age 20, had a standard maturity level, unlike Andors or Adieon and could have been a serious lady's magnet, had he not been overly concerned about his siblings and parents. His eyes, on a day not so cloudy and foggy, were a deep amber with specks of black nestled in the pupils. His hair was a shining sliver, like their fathers, with natural streaks of the honey color from his mother, caught at the nape of his neck, his skin a copper color. Malanah remembered a time when he had let his beautiful hair grow out to his shoulders, all because she did not want to be the only Wolfe child with long hair.
A hand found her shoulder. He seemed out of breath, as if he had run the whole field to find them. "Have you seen Father?" Malanah and Mistiana both shook their heads. Kreyl sighed, suddenly saddened, and motioned them to follow him. His question had not been on of urgency but one of grief. Malanah's inner spark for disasters suddenly flared. The fog seemed only to get thicker, the sky blacker and denser with clouds as they walked. "Something's going to happen, I can feel it. I have for many days." Mistiana sighed as they began to run to keep up with their older brother's hurried steps. Kreyl soon led them to the clearing where they kept their gardens.
"Where are the others Kreyl?" Malanah asked, suddenly. "What's going on?" Mistiana asked at the same time. Still their older brother understood both questions. "Father's hurt!" The words pinged like ice into Malanah's brain. She felt, rather then saw, Mistiana stop and freeze where she stood. "Hurt?" her voice was ragged. Kreyl nodded and heaved her onto his shoulder.
"We're right here!" an icy voice sneered, yet he was fairly close to them. Vlad. Another, not so nice, brother of the girls. Vlad was almost an exact replica of Kreyl, and her other brothers, only older, meaner, and did not have the golden streaks from their mother Glorya. Vlad had become suddenly hard and emotionless after a talk with Anton, their father, not to many months back. No one ever talked of the talk and no one dared ask Vlad questions.
"You'd better come look at this Mal!" one of her twin brothers choked. "You're not going to like it!" the other put in. Mistiana squeezed her sister's hand, Kreyl had set her down again, as they walked to where the twins knelt.
There, lying on the frost bitten ground, was her father, covered in and coughing up blood. On a normal day, Malanah would have insisted to know what had brought frost and the freezing air on her birthday, June 21, the beginning of summer.
Instant sobs rocked Mistiana's small frame. She sank to her knees, her cheeks already stained with wet tears. The fog concealed her from her sister's sight and only her loose sobs let on any indication that she was down there. Malanah's eyes filled with a single tear each as she too sank to the soft grass. A more powerful emotion was trying to take over and an even more powerful one then that. Anger and Hate.
"Daddy...Who d- did this to you? Who did this?" Malanah demanded, her long hair flowing around her shoulders and on top of her fathers wound. The wound was still gushing blood from his stomach and he couldn't control the spasms that rocked his body. There was another one to close to his heart for hope. "Violet hair, violet eyes... black... so dark..." her father used most of his strength just to speak. "Shusssh" Malanah placed a hand on his wound, trying to gauge how much blood he'd already lost and how much he was currently losing with each labored breath he took. "We'll make you better Father, I promise! We- We have to! You have to live!" She had begun crying again.
The colorless tears mixed with the blood, causing it to flow faster. With her still clean arm she put it around her little sister and pulled her close. Then she brushed her fathers sliver bangs back off his sweating forehead. "Don't give in, please, Daddy!" As her second hand went to her father's stomach something cold and sharp sliced her hand. Rearing back she screamed at the sudden prick. Was it cold or had the prick been so sharp it had only felt cold, or had been the other way around? Strong hands steadied her. "What's wrong?" Kreyl asked, just above a whisper. Something sticky dropped from her hand. It was red. 'More blood.' she thought sadly.
"Don't worry about me, brother. We need to help Father now!" she scrambled back searching for her Dad's hand. "Find anything?" Tren's voice called to her left. "No, not yet!" Creston was the only one who answered his brother's question, or has even heard him. "Keep looking anyway!" Peneth commanded. Tren, Peneth, and Creston all had the family silver hair, a golden skin tone, and golden-green eyes. It seemed to be a family trait, along with the recklessness.
Malanah's heart was about to explode with saddness, dread, anger, desperation, and confusion. "We'll save you!" Her tears were falling again as Anton took her hand in his and coughed up another large amount of blood. "We can't save him, Malanah" a voice colder then the prick Malanah was suffering from said. Vlad would have seen the fire in his sister's eyes, if not for the relentless fog that choked the fields.
In a flash she was on him, had tackled him to the ground and had pulled out her wand, pointing it at his neck, her other hand at his neck, choking the air from his body. "How dare you say that! How dare you proclaim to even call yourself his son? MY brother? How- " she was cut short by Mistiana's choked, yet soft, voice.
"There's something poking out of Father's chest!" Malanah rolled off Vlad and pulled Mistiana away from the thing. "Lumos!" she muttered to her wand, which she should have done many minutes ago when they came out here in the first place. She held in a gasp, but 9 others filled it for her. A melting piece of something had sliced right thorough her fathers still beating heart. A piece of black ice. There was a second of silence then everything was happening all at once.
Anton summoned Malanah over to him. "I have.. one last gift...to g-give to you... love..." He closed his eyes and sighed. Malanah felt the strangest sensation she'd ever experienced. She felt as though she was floating but at the same time she was being crushed into the earth, burned by fire, and drowned in water. She felt as if the air was unsuitable to breath but before she could scream, choke, or even protest, it was over. As quickly as the feelings had come.. they was gone. Vanished.
Anton grasped his first daughters hand, knuckle white hard, and then it relaxed, his hand going cold. "No. father. Come back! Don't go! Please! I need you... Father…" Gradually his breathing slowed and stopped altogether. Her dad's eyes remained open but they were now calm. Malanah looked down, into them, seeing endless pools.
"I love you, Father, Anton, I always will. Thank you for whatever it was you gave me." Ripping her hand free she closed his wide eyes. Forever.
"Oi! Everyone hurry over here! I found footprints!" Creston yelled, breaking Malanah out of her trance.
Malanah has ahead of everyone else as they ran to catch up with Creston. At the edge of the forest, the sun broke though the clouds making everything a soft tawny yellow of early morning and the fog lifted. The sudden brightness all but blinded the 10 children that rushed to forest's edge. After recovering from the color shift, they made out a violet haired, violet eyes man. He held his wand at their mother, Glorya's, neck.
"Take another step and I'll say it!" he hissed. The children stepped back.They knew exactly what spell he meant. The one that once cast was the end and the last thing their mother would see would be her children outlined in a green blaze. If even that.
Glorya shook her head. "Do not interfear, my children, go console your father. Morn his death with grace and hope, not sadness. He fought bravely to protect us all." The man who held her quieted her with a quick and sharp elbow to the stomach. He waved his wand, mutter something and a giant blast of wind whipped their mothers beautiful honey colored hair away from her face. The blast of wind whipped Menetite's counter-spell away, the spell now long forgotten, and with it the violet haired man and their mother as well. With the Wolfe children on their feet again they realized the strange and sad fate that awaited them.
Their mother was gone, their father was dead, and they were alone. But only one did not which to believe it, any of it, and since his sister had been the only the one not to rush out and help their dying father, in his time need…since she had been the prized and talked about one half of his life, he was placing the blame on her. Vlad looked over at Malanah, hugging Mistiana's face away from the charred spot on the ground where the man had apparated away in a blast of wind, and suddenly be began to loath her with even greater feeling. SHE had caused the death of their father. It had been her. He repeated these words over and over in his mind until it had become his only train of thought. Without knowing it, Vlad had created himself a senairo where there was only one ending. Malanah's demise.
End of Flashblack.
A/N - Sorry for the little cliff hanger. I couldn't help myself. Stay tuned for the next chapter and thank you for reading.