This has a rather dark start and is set before the Arcobelano curse.
A young figure older than thirteen but younger than twenty walked onto the shores of Mafia Land. Her deep black hair was cut rather short, barely past her ears. Her eyes were green, almost a jade color, and were just as warm as the precious rock.
She had a small pouch on her side and a backpack with a few poles sticking out of the top. If one were to look inside they would find a rather curious thing considering the multiple resort hotels on the island.
It was a tent, one of decent size considering how tiny the girl was.
And the first thing she does upon confirming her invitation to the island...is hit a bar.
Needless to say the fact a mere slip of a teenage girl was in a bar caused the more serious drinkers to watch with open amusement. Clearly she planned to abuse Daddy's credit card to try hard drinking.
For the most part the regulars and the older crowd watched with amusement as the girl bought an entire bottle of cheap whiskey and the fact she steadily knocks it back with the ease of someone seeking to become very drunk in a short period of time, or at least buzzed. Once finished, the raven haired girl promptly pays for a good bottle of liquor.
Some expect her to knock it back as quickly as she had the first bottle. Considering the quality of the liquor, many cringe at the idea.
Instead the girl calmly pours a glass with a steady hand most rookie drinkers wouldn't have managed after downing a bottle already, and proceeds to savor it as one should.
After two hours of watching her and expecting a show of a rookie learning the hard way not to mix drinks, most lose interest when they see her taking her time. Clearly the girl is either experienced already, or a natural Sun.
All talk quieted down when he walked in.
Reborn was a predator no one wanted to deal with in a bad mood. He raised an eyebrow at the little girl drinking a hard liquor.
But in Mafia Land, if you had the ability to pay in good currency, no one really gave a damn about your age.
"What's a cute little thing like you doing in a place like this?" he asked smoothly in Italian.
The glare she gave him could have melted steel, it was that strong. She merely took a slightly longer pull of her scotch before firmly ignoring him.
So Reborn changed tactics...and languages. It was possible she didn't understand him.
"Aren't you a little young to be in a bar like this?" he asked pleasantly in English.
"Fuck off," she spat back with a distinct British accent.
Reborn grinned. Now he was getting somewhere.
The girl however had other ideas.
"Give me another bottle to enjoy later. Preferably something strong," she said to the bartender.
He gave her a relatively decent bottle of scotch, one of noticeably lesser value than the one she was currently enjoying. She firmly closed the lid on that one, placing the bottles in her bag before walking out.
Reborn eyed her exit. The girl wasn't even tipsy...a fellow Sun perhaps?
"Any idea who she is?"
"Stray. All I know is that she paid in good coin."
"Good taste in liquor," Reborn noted. Why was a mere stray like that getting to him?
It took two tries, but she got the tent set up in a relatively secluded area of the island. She didn't need some fancy hotel where she'd be busted for her clothes alone.
She could live with a tent. Wasn't like she had a reason to waste her money on something like a overly-soft bed when she didn't have much reason to live.
If there was one thing she could agree with, it was that money didn't buy her any happiness...but it was certainly buying her a more pleasant form of misery. It was hard to feel anything when the alcohol hit her system without anything to absorb it.
Once she had her sleeping bag set up, she crashed and let the booze do it's work. Not like she really cared if she woke up with a monumental hangover.
Nearby...
"...Never thought I'd see the day someone would set up a tent rather than shell out some cash for one of the hotels," said Colonello, watching it from a pair of binoculars on the ridge.
"Considering the kid looked like they barely had any cash on them to begin with, a tent is cheaper. Besides, what does it matter to you if some kid opts to sleep out here rather than in the main area?" asked Lal Mirch.
"It's just weird, kora! Name one person who brings a tent to Mafia Land!"
"Again, not our business," said Lal.
But Colonello, despite her complaints, could not put the sight of the kid in the tent out of his head. It wouldn't be until four days later that he found out why, though he honestly wished it was because of less stressful circumstances...
Day two on Mafia Land...
Verde was taking a well earned break from his usual hustle and bustle of inventing and expanding the knowledge of science. He was also in the perfect position to witness something that would come to haunt him later.
Initially he didn't really note the obvious teenager with an open whiskey bottle, clearly drunk. Or she was on the verge of it, if the small amount left in the bottle was any indication.
One misstep due to the pavement, and she crashed past three bodyguards into the head of a rather small, if influential family.
The man bristled, and has her kicked out of his path. The girl spits at him, and when the guards go to kick her while she's down, something unexpected happens. Verde watches with open fascination as the girl calmly slams the almost empty bottle on arguably the most dangerous one of the three, before somehow managing to break the leg of a second. It's the third that gets her, cracking at least two of her ribs if he's any guess and kicking her into the wall.
Fake honor satisfied, despite the fact that the girl had downed two of his men (who are up and ready to work anyway), the fat slob sneers at her and says something rather derogatory in Italian.
The girl doesn't even blink, merely flips him off.
Verde highly suspects the girl doesn't even understand what the man said.
He might have put it out of his mind, once the dust settled...except he had gotten a very clear view of the girl's eyes.
And if those green orbs so hauntingly similar to his own hadn't briefly turned a clear orange color accompanied by an extremely brief flare of Sky Flames, he'd eat his computer.
How fascinating. An unattached Sky wandering around Mafia Land without a single Guardian. Though he did wonder why the fat slob didn't even notice what she was.
It wasn't enough to make him get up though.
In an abandoned alleyway...
Well that sucked, and it wasted the last of that particular bottle. She leaned heavily into one of the many walls around her, barely even flinching.
That had to be at least two cracked or broken ribs for sure.
"Mu... that looks painful," said an apathetic voice in English, thankfully.
She turned, and saw a figure in a hood with markings on their face.
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a bottle of vodka. Wasn't like she planned to give a damn about the state of her liver anyway, so why not enjoy it?
"Why do you care?" she asked bluntly, letting the alcohol drown the pain. Her buzz was finally coming back, thank god.
"I don't, but then again it's rare to see a witch come to Mafia Land and start spending their gold so freely," said the figure bluntly.
She gave the figure a tired, flat look.
"Fuck magic, and fuck the magical society," she said, taking a very long pull at the mere memory of what those assholes kept shoving on her.
"I could be encouraged to listen, for a price," said the figure.
"How much."
"Five minutes, ten coins," said the figure without hesitation.
"That's plenty."
She pulled out her pouch and pulled out fifteen coins. The figure didn't even bother to correct the excess. Not like she gave a crap about money.
So she let the alcohol blind her sense of judgment as she ranted about why she hated the magical society. Long after the five minutes were up, and the alcohol began to kick in. The figure said nothing, but then again the most they had wanted was to find out why a witch was on Mafia Land in the first place.
"You owe me another five coins."
She handed them over, and their hands brushed together. A spark passed between them before fading.
She ambled towards her tent. It felt a little better being able to vent to an apathetic ear. The figure hadn't cared who she was or who her parents were. It just wanted money.
She took a long swig of her bottle.
Money couldn't buy the happiness she sought, but it definitely paid for a more pleasant form of misery.
Day three...
Hangovers officially sucked ass. Fortunately, that's what hair of the dog was for. Once she had a proper buzz going again, she was able to amble through the streets barely avoiding the crowds. By this point she was a familiar face to the other visitors as a drunk who at least had the decency not to bother others with their habit. Outside of a few minor incidents, she was at least polite enough to not drag others into it.
She blearily looked up when she felt someone reach out with an arm and pull her out of the main streets.
"Have you seriously been on a nonstop three day bender?" said the annoying Italian from the first bar.
She glared at him and growled rather dangerous the second he tried to take her bottle away.
"Drinking won't solve anything, much less running away."
"Go screw yourself. I'm dead anyway, might as well have some fun with it," she said flatly, taking a long pull of the bourbon. Ah, the fun of mixing drinks.
The man showed an unusual degree of concern. What did he care, she was doomed to die soon anyway. One year or two, it made no difference. Dumbledore had all but told her with his fake platitudes that there was no way she was going to escape that damn prophecy.
And to be honest, with Sirius dead she couldn't find it in her to give a damn about her own life. Might as well end it on her own terms.
At least she could go out without having to save those ungrateful assholes. Not like they deserved it.
The annoying Italian let her go, but if she had seen his expression when she yanked her arm out of his grasp she would have known it wasn't the end of it.
Aside from dodging a clumsy pick pocket, she managed to secure a few more bottles before heading back to her tent. She just wanted to forget.
She briefly paused after bumping into someone, mumbling apologies before continuing on her way.
She didn't noticed the surprised look of the blond or his partner.
"I think that was the kid in the tent," said Colonello. He brushed where she bumped into him, still feeling a weird tingle that sent electric shocks into his Flames.
"You alright? She didn't pick pocket you did she?"
"I doubt she even cared to bother," said Colonello. But his eyes followed the kid's form until she disappeared from sight.
Neither really noticed the drone above them. It was at such a low pitch and firmly out of sight that it would have been difficult for them to see it.
In another room, a man with green hair and eyes shared a look with Viper.
"Looks like she attracted a Rain. You sure she's worth this much effort?"
"I'm sure she would be worth keeping alive for your experiments. How often are you going to find a witch with active Sky Flames to work with? You could figure out the source behind why magic and technology doesn't work. Besides, when are you going to find an unattached Sky you can squirrel away like this?" said Viper.
Verde gave the Mist a flat look.
"Bullshit. She got to you too, didn't she?"
"I may have run into her in an alley. Not even I'm heartless enough to leave someone who's had that much bad luck alone to their own devices. At least you'll keep her alive and won't abandon her to outright abuse between experiments," said Viper flatly.
Verde wasn't convinced, but he was intrigued enough to capture and keep the girl alive for his experiments. Considering the near desperate consumption of alcohol, even he could tell there was damage that couldn't be seen by the normal eye.
And he had several pieces of medical equipment that could be improved with a willing test subject. Including one that examined Flames without a Sun present.
He still had high hopes for that one, but it was still too rough for him to sell.
Day three end, Day four begin...
It was yet another nightmare, except this one was aided by the raging storm outside.
In a weird way, storms had always made her feel safe even when everything else was falling apart. A loud crash made her jerk, causing her bag to spill on the ground inside the tent. It was her photo album.
Hands shaking from the memories, she cautiously opened the book.
By the time morning comes she is too busy crying to properly hold anything.
Sirius was dead. Dead because of her stupidity. Dead trying to protect her from Bellatrix.
The sharp pain in her heart was too strong to ignore and the alcohol she had practically been consuming by barrels loosened her judgment.
She left the book on the ground, tears streaming down her face. Her tent was close enough to the cliff that she could hear the ocean, and this particular one had sharks circling the area.
It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was a great place to dispose bodies, at least those not important enough to be sent back to their families.
What did she have to lose? It wasn't like she was going to live very long to begin with, and at least this way she died on her terms and not because of some piece of shit prophecy.
And really, she loathed the idea of dying to "save" some ungrateful bastards who probably wouldn't even learn the lesson.
She was almost to the cliff edge when a body collided with hers. She fought like a wild lion until she registered something. The soothing feeling of storms. Then she felt the calming effect of the rain and she blacked out.
Reborn felt like he has shaved twenty years off his life, watching his possible Sky about to fling herself off the cliff edge and into the shark infested waters below.
Thank god Fon was interested in meeting his Sky to the point he followed the Sun to where the backstage of Mafia Land was. If Colonello hadn't mentioned some odd girl living in a tent out in the woods who always seemed to have a bottle on her, he never would have known where to look.
The girl was desperately trying to kill herself, at least until Fon lost his patience and flared his Flames in warning.
In a paradox, the girl calmed down long before Colonello managed to get to her and use his Rain Flames on her.
Fon looked at the girl in his arms with an odd expression. Did he accidentally Harmonize with her?
Ren briefly put his own Flames on her, before jerking back with a hiss of shock. The others looked at him.
"What?"
"She has the worst case of Flame Rejection scars I've ever seen in my life. I've never heard or seen anyone with this level damage. It's going to take a while for me to even remotely fix this level of damage...and what's more, I can sense she has broken Guardian bonds."
The Flame users winced at that prognosis. Generally speaking the stronger the bond between Guardian and Sky, the worse the damage was if one of them was killed. Some Skies went insane without the proper support.
Considering how she had literally tried to drown it in alcohol and was wandering around without any Guardians, it was pretty damn obvious she wasn't handling the loss of a Guardian bond. Add that on top of the Flame Damage Reborn sensed and it was little wonder the girl was suicidal.
And they were bonded to a damaged Sky to the point it brought out their protective natures. It didn't take a genius to realize that until the damage was fixed the girl was going to be a needy, emotional mess.
As Colonello carried the girl to Reborn's hotel room (via the back, because he wasn't an idiot) the four were surprised to find that there were two others already there.
Viper, the strongest Mist currently active, and Verde, a Lightning with a penchant for science.
Reborn was not happy.
"You might want to heal her cracked ribs before you move her further," said Verde.
"What."
"She was given two cracked ribs from one of the guards of a minor family a day or so ago," said Verde.
Reborn was on her in a heartbeat, and cursed when he checked her ribs. Two of them were definitely broken. Colonello carefully put the unconscious Sky on the bed, and Reborn used his Sun Flames to heal the damage. While he was working, Colonello eyed the two others.
Fon had accidentally bonded with the girl when he flared his Flames, and Colonello when she brushed up against him.
This girl had such a tight control over her Flames it was a miracle they even realized what she was. Never mind that they were able to bond at all.
"So what are you doing here?"
"I ran into her yesterday, and managed to get the reason why she's drowning herself in alcohol. I might be cold, but I'm not completely heartless. Verde agreed to use her as a test subject for some medical equipment he wanted to improve."
Verde was many things, but it was also known that he did take very good care of his test subjects. More than some of the other families did.
"Whatever you do, don't flare your Flames around her. Most of the damage I'm sensing was created by flaring," said Reborn.
Verde's eyes gleamed.
"I have some equipment I designed for the hospitals that are akin to isolation chambers. It only allows the Flames already inside to be present, but keeps outside influences from getting in. It's not perfected though."
Considering the damage done to her Flames, Reborn didn't have much choice. She needed to be shielded from outside influences while he fixed the damage. And just from looking at her alone, he knew he'd have to bring in Shamal for the physical damage.
Fortunately the damage by her bender was recent enough to be easily removed.
And while Verde was eager for a new test subject, he also wasn't a fool. He could live with some overprotective Guardians being in his lab so long as he had such a fascination test subject.
After all, it wasn't often he got to experiment on a witch and a Sky Flame strong enough to harmonize with someone like Reborn.