From Mortal Lips

By:

Setalina Muro

Summary: It is in grief I now tell this, his tale, dead though he is, this dear man, immortal as his love. I still love my master. And so a tale from mortal lips, giving glory to the Vampire I knew so well…

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or any places, people and/or other things you are familiar with from the show or anything else. The plot, however, is mine.

Secondary Disclaimer: I have a sad infatuation with Anne Rice, and I write strangely after reading her books. I'd like to state that this is not based on her marvelous books whatsoever. I will not take plot, character, or phrase from any of the Vampire Chronicles (New or Old) intentionally (if I find that I have, I will remove it immediately, acknowledging Ms. Rice's request that fan fictions of her books not be place on FFN) . I'm only mentioning them for the sole purpose of people knowing what I'm doing and where my inspiration comes from. Thanks you.

A/N: Greetings my dears. Thanks for the reviews. Love you all tons!

Note: The style is stolen completely from the Vampire Chronicles. Read them if you want the real thing. Ha.

Hope you all enjoy this. Just a filler chapter, but some important keys that will help you understand where's I'm going with this. I think. Ah. Anyway, read on!

Chapter One

The next day found me eager as the sun rose. Little sleep had come to me in the few hours after I was excuse from the study.

I went immediately to the library. I had rarely been there during the day, chores finding me too busy for the books, but I was there today.

I focused on the door, brass locked turned against me. I touched it hesitantly, my chest heaving in confusion and disappointment. Had it all been a dream? Was the charming man with his silver hair and bright eyes not even real?

"And you're doing what now?"

The voice, a deep mixture of curiosity and blame, startled me greatly and I leapt away from the door, dragging my fantasies with me.

(I think I must explain that voices fascinate me. Or perhaps it's not so much the voices but the words coming from them. Foreign languages are also spectacular, but it's more the tone and emotion portrayed that can betray the words so easily, that I marvel in.)

The accusing voice had a low timber, but not one without the spark of a childhood grace. He eyed me coldly for a moment from the brilliantly crafted table at which he sat. The surface was smooth, a pale yellow in color, oak by nature, and glazed with a clear lacquer so that it shone. I knew the center was emblazoned with precious stones beneath the liquid and gold etched fine lines in it. The corners were also encrusted with the precious metal. The chair in which the boy sat was similarly designed with a red velvet cushion and wicker backing.

"Well?" he snapped, pulling my attention. His hard glare was bone chilling, and he held my gaze with icy blue eyes until I forced myself to look away. When this happened, he scoffed, hopping off the gilded chair and moved toward me.

I moved back, finding the shelf behind me. He stopped in front of me, and I stiffened when his hand extended, but he did nothing more than reach for a book behind my head and pull it down with long, graceful fingers. He held it in his palm, opening to a random page and gazing intently into it.

Eyes are another thing I enjoy looking at, and I still have never seen a pair of eyes more wonderful then his. They were blue, as I mentioned before, but I examined them further as he watched the pages. The blue was a deep navy in color, lightening to a smooth cobalt as his attention to me dwindled. Light streaks of violet and cyan blended gently among other shades I could never name.

His hair was brown and hung into his face ever so slightly, and I lost myself pondering his age when the book was suddenly slammed back into its place on the shelf. His hand remained by it.

"It's not polite to stare," he sneered at me, glaring down. "Now, what are you doing here?"

I blinked, shuddering. Then I answered, "I-I was speaking with Mr. Crawford last night and I was just looking for him."

The boy's face darkened and he moved back slightly, though his hand still rested on the bookshelf. "Stay clear of Pegasus Crawford," he said. "He's a dangerous man."

Confusion flooded me and I looked at him questioningly, but he had turned away, his face lined with sadness.

"Who are you?" I asked him. "How do you know Mr. Crawford?"

His gaze hardly faltered when he cast it back at me. "I'd ask you the same question," he shot back. "My name is Seto."

"I'm Shizuka," I returned, attempting to be friendly to the calloused boy by extending my hand.

He refused the gesture.

"I'll assume you're the charming creature who found Pegasus in his study last night," he continued. "I'll tell you now; you won't find him or any of his kin by day."

Seto turned then, and I watched him go for a moment, utterly flabbergasted before I went after him. I caught him by the shoulder, twisting him partially so our eyes met.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Turning to face me fully, he put his hand under my chin. There was a look of absolute pity in his eye and a great hidden sadness. "Shizuka, do no meet with Pegasus tonight or any night after. Forget what you have seen of him and return to your normal life." He paused. "Creatures like Pegasus only succeed in making everyone else miserable. Do not fall into his trap. You are too young."

I let him go this time when he pulled away. His hand went into a pocket stitched into the smooth grey fabric of his pants.

When he had left the library, I returned to the shelf he had stuck me against, intending to look at the book Seto had grabbed. It was simple to find, a plain, leather-backed work that lacked name or title. The front had what seemed to be silver sprays of ivy with a single, similarly colored rose painted in the center.

I opened it carefully to a spot in the middle as Seto had, finding it to be a diary of some sort. The date at the top of the page, inscribed in curling handwriting and fading ink, was January 25, 1775.

'Dear Diary,

Mother and father have announced my engagement to the town. People will be coming from Boston tonight for a party in celebration. Diary, I must confess to you, I do not want to marry Crocketts! I feel no love for him or even like in the slightest. He's so much older, by nearly thirteen years in fact! I will not tell you it is because I have no wish of marriage at this age. Fourteen seems an acceptable time to settle down. Many of my friends are nursing their first child as I sit here writing this. No, it's not because I don't dream of finding someone to pledge myself to, but because I have always dreamed of marrying my beloved Peg-'

"Shizuka!" (Au1)

I tore my eyes from the script, gazing toward the entranceway. The shrill voice came from that direction and I stood, frozen as footsteps approached.

"Shizuka!" A pause, then muttering. "Blast. Where has that girl gotten to? Shizuka Kawai, come here this instant!"

I knew that voice. Mother. I returned the diary to its shelf, paused, corrected the action by tucking the book into my apron, and moved toward the door.

"I'm here, Mother," I answered.

She walked toward me. Her brow rose slightly. "The library?"

"I was…uh, dusting?" I offered, grinning.

She laughed, grabbing my wrist and dragging me behind her. "Honestly, child, you spend more time in that library then any person I've ever seen! Haven't you got anything better to do?"

"No," I answered truthfully. "But Mr. Crawford has promised to teach me how to write!"

I regretted he words the instant they left my mouth. Mother turned, stopping dead in her tracks, looking at me, her chocolate orbs wide.

"Child," she whispered. "Tell me you said no such thing."

"Why Mother?" I queried. She looked very frightened, nearly faint. Her face had paled considerably; her mouth hung aghast in horror. I felt that all too familiar, yet increasingly annoying bewilderment bubbling. "Mother? What's the matter?"

She clutched at me, almost as if she were going to fall.

Then she did.

Mother sank to the floor, gasping for breath, her mouth gaping like fish. I didn't know what to do as she lay there twitching.

So I screamed.

Not a name passed my lips, merely the echoing cry. I believe I said the word 'help' and 'mother' several time in my wailing. It wasn't long before echoing footsteps were heard. The entire staff rushed up. I was being shoved out of the way, jostled further and further from Mother.

Hands grasped my shoulders, directing me away from the crowd. We went through a door and I was seated on a couch. A handkerchief was pressed into my hand. I realized I was crying.

"Shizuka?"

A soothing voice. Male, of course, but it wasn't Seto's. Too old. But it wasn't like the cracking voice of our eldest butler's either. Then who?

I blinked the tears from my eyes, brushing them from my cheeks with the emerald, satin cloth. I hiccupped, watching the figure as it moved and pulled a set of mauve curtains from blocking the light. The golden sunshine flared through the large bay window.

I saw the man fully then. He was dressed in a finely tailored black suit with a deep green shirt beneath it. It was casual and slightly frumpled, but his shoes were extremely shiny. His hands were hidden in his pockets. He was tall with dark obsidian hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Several strands were artistically splayed into his face. His eyes were emerald green and he had a large smile.

I didn't remember him well at the moment. His name was Otogi Ryuji. He was twenty at the time and studying to be a law student. His father was a butler in the castle at one point, and he spent his spare time here combing the library for secrets.

He walked over and sat beside me on the couch, patting my shoulder. I gazed at him uncertainly.

"Wha-what is going to happen to my Mother?" I asked.

"She has had a seizure," he answered matter-of-factly. "But I think she will be fine."

"W-why? Why did she have a seizure?"

"It must have been something you said. Tell me exactly what you were talking about before it happened." He gazed at me intently and I felt strange suddenly, forcing my mind to think of nothing more than a blank white room and swirling winds.

"I-I told her I was going to learn to write," I said, frightened and withdrawing slightly.

Otogi sighed heavily and stood up, moving across the room. "There's something I'm trying to find, Shizuka." His hand roved over a tall bookcase. "I can't find it, but I think you can help me if you cooperate."

"What is it?" I asked, blinking.

He pulled a book from the shelf and opened it. "There are creatures," he said, thumbing through it. The book was bound with brown leather and traced with veins of gold. On the front cover of the book there was a golden eye. "Creatures that haunt the night, stealing life from others," he continued. "They stalk the darkest places and the loveliest churches. People don't realize nowhere is safe from them." He flipped through the book feverishly. "Monsters both alive and dead, only destroyed by two things…"

I stared at him, utterly aghast as he continued on. "M-Mr. Ryuji?" I attempted to end his banter. "Mr. Ryuji!"

He stopped, blinking at me. "Yeees?"

"I-I do not believe that I can help you."

He looked rather put out, but his eyes gleamed. "Dear Shizuka, I haven't even told you what it is I am searching for. And you can't lie to me. I believe you know one of these creatures. I think you're well acquainted with a vamp--"

"Mr. Ryuji!"

Both the crazed man and I turned toward the now open door. Standing there was Seto. He glared grimly at Otogi, who watched the younger boy nearly slack with shock.

He collected himself rather quickly. "Ah! Young master Seto! What can I do for you?"

Seto looked at Otogi coldly for a few more seconds before looking at me. "Come on, Shizuka."

I got off the couch immediately and followed him out the door, hearing a broken off sentence from Otogi as Seto slammed the door.

"Okay," he said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me behind him. "You have a superior knack for attracting nutcases."

"What in the world do you mean by that, Seto?" I asked, almost sarcastically as I stumbled along behind him. "And where are we going?"

"Otogi Ryuji is nearly clinically insane, alright? And Pegasus is as bad as that, but I'll say he's at least got an excuse. The only thing Ryuji has it that 'Egyptian Society for the Paranormal'." We stopped in front of a door, and Seto put his hands on my shoulders. "Now, listen carefully. Your mother is in this room."

I looked at it, feeling my heart pulse uncomfortably in my chest. He grasped my chin, forcing my attention back on him.

"Shizuka, focus! You must never mention Pegasus Crawford to anyone again. I'll tell you again, forget him! He brings nothing to anyone except misery and, as you saw, fear and pain."

I looked away from him. "He's supposed to teach me to write…"

Seto sighed heavily turned away, rubbing his head. "I'll teach you to write, but only if you promise to stay away from Pegasus!"

"I…I still don't understand." I grabbed his arm. "Why did my mother have a panic attack when I mentioned him? Why am I being forbidden from speaking of or to him? Why does it all upset you so much?"

He glared. "Firstly, I am not upset. I'm attempting to keep a mistake from being repeated. You don't need to know anything more. You're too young!"

"You cannot be that much older than I am and you know all these things!" I shouted at him.

"And I would give the world not to! I've been tormented by this knowledge for five years! Since my eighth birthday my nights, when I find sleep, are tainted by nightmares! My days are spent combing that same library for an answer to something I can barely grasp!"

He had moved away from me and was leaning against the wall, back turned to me. I felt awful suddenly, and I felt pity for this boy. How could such a strong person look so…defeated?

Seto quivered as I touched his shoulder. I couldn't see his eyes, but I rested my hands on his shoulders anyway. He was a head taller than me, I noticed suddenly.

"I'm so sorry, Seto. I spoke in anger. I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sorry."

I wondered if he heard me. My arms wrapped around him and I hugged him from behind.

"We are alone here, you and I," I said. "We are the only children. Everyone else on the island is an adult. Maybe we could be friends, Seto. And that secret, you shouldn't have to carry it alone."

"No," he answered softly. He turned from the wall. There was a small smile on his face. "Shizuka, I could never wish what I know on another person, and for now I will not. For now, let's go visit your mother." He tousled my hair before leading me to the door, and somewhere in my mind, I heard a voice whisper, 'thank you'.

Yet in all the excitement and gloom, I forget entirely about the rose diary tucked into the pocket of my apron…

To Be Continued…

A/N: Ah, there we go. Yes a quick update, I think. Well, I'm going to leave you with a short note. All State choir auditions tomorrow and I'm not feeling up to my best. But all smiles, I'm sure. Laters!

Au 1: Ah, yes. Horrible time for an interruption, correct? Well, I just thought I'd throw out for those of you who don't know, Crocketts is the Japanese equivalent of Pegasus's employee/secretary/body guard (which ever you prefer). Note that he is no such person in this fiction. Tee hee.

Lina