Another Time Another World
AN: This chapter got finished rather quickly. Why? Because I've been sitting on 90% of this chapter for two years - yeah it took that long to get to where I could use what I'd written. I truly appreciate all of ya'll's reviews and interest in my story, thank ya'll so much. Enjoy.
This chapter was beta-ed by SleepyMangaHead.
Chapter Nine:
Potter Manor, 1886:
It was not a falsehood to comment or state that the once grand and magnificent structure of the Potter Manor had seen better days. Not to say that the manor was any less immaculate, or any less as gorgeous as it had been in the years before that last heir to the House of Potter disappeared and the murder-suicide of the last Lord and Lady of the family. But over the years a dark and gloomy atmosphere had settled throughout the estate and among its servants.
Many servants had left from the original number after the deaths, and the head butler, Mr. Yamamoto, had tried to replace them, to little avail.
Any replacements to be hired only stayed a few weeks, at most, in the heavy, dark, depressing atmosphere before declaring it cursed and not worth the wages, which were admittedly very good. From word of mouth alone, the damage had been done and it was near impossible to get anyone to work at the Potter Manor. The already small number of servants that family had kept on had dwindled down to Mr. Yamamoto, and Mrs. Reece. They shared all the jobs about the manor between themselves; for, the gardeners, the cooks, the maids – save Mrs. Reece, of course –, the coachmen, the stable boy –everyone- was long gone.
With only loyal Mr. Yamamoto and Mrs. Reece remaining it was physically impossible for the entirety of Potter Manor to be managed between themselves, so with great reluctance and anguish, even more of the great manor was sealed off. At the time, Mr. Yamamoto greatly feared that the manor, what with its lack of use and slim amount of humans traipsing about its corridors, forgotten by most of society except during times of little gossip, would fall into ruin when he and Mrs. Reece were unable to take care of it any longer.
After a span of time where Yamamoto was most anxious over that unpleasant future, he managed to snap himself out of it. After all, he could not predict the future, nor did he have time to worry about the house after his death.
What would come would come, regardless of any desire or exertion on his part, or anyone else's.
The sound of back bones popping resounded in the almost unnatural silence of the Potter Manor gardens and the noise was simultaneously followed by a groan as Mr. Yamamoto rose from his kneeling position. At his age he was far too old, as most would say, to be on his knees plucking weeds from their constricting grip among the rose bushes. It was a claim he would venomously deny, if not for the fact he was really feeling his age today.
Of course, today was a day that was ill regarded by the two remaining servants of the Potter family. And, if not for the fact it was the first, not sunny, but first day without rain for several days on end, and that rain had not made the weeds grow at exponential speeds, he would not have been out on this accursed day.
It was February 14, 1886.
Six years to the day that little Lord Hylas Potter vanished on his seventh birthday. It nearly brought a tear to the usually stoic man's eye when he thought that Hylas would be thirteen today.
Today was also the two year anniversary of Lord Lawson and Lady Jasmine Potter's death. Yamamoto could still clearly remember walking into his Lord's room that horrible morning to find Lord Potter dressed in his nightgown and covered in blood, his neck so badly mutilated that when they had begun to move the body, his head had fallen to the ground.
One of the maids, he couldn't recollect which – only that she had been the first to flee from the manor, went to go help Lady Potter get ready and downstairs, so that she could be informed of the dreadful occurrence that had past. The maid's screams had been heard all over the estate. Lady Jasmine's corpse was found in her bath, full – by then – of chilled water that was dyed crimson from her blood. A knife had been discovered on the floor directly under her hand, from where she had dropped it when she no longer had the strength, or consciousness to hold it.
The funeral services had been quiet, swift, and sparsely attended, though Queen Victoria herself sent flowers – a parlor full in fact. The processions had been so promptly done that Lord Potter's cousins, Angela Duress – the illustrious Madame Red - and her sister, Rachel Phantomhive, had not even known of the deaths before dirt covered the caskets.
The sisters and Earl Phantomhive had been most displeased.
They had left, Yamamoto had heard, immediately after being informed the news, to see if it were true. (The Phantomhives had left their precious Ciel with their butler, Tanaka, who was a distant relative of Yamamoto's.)
Devastation was clear on the trio's expressions when they came, praying their sources to be wrong, only to find the gravestones of the Potter couple being placed in the Potter Family cemetery as they arrived. The grass had yet to sprout near the graves.
It was eerie when a much similar tragedy struck the family yet again, only three months ago. The Phantomhive Manor, set aflame, and Lady and Earl Phantomhive dead, with little Ceil gone missing – only this time known to have been kidnapped unlike in Hylas' case. All occurring on the child's birthday: December 14th.
It had all been too closely paralleled to the Potter's tragedy for Yamamoto to stomach.
Consequentially, February fourteenth, was a day of heavy tension and mourning at the Potter Manor. Adding to the typical, every day doom and gloom atmosphere that felt fit to haunt the lordless estate.
Deeply sighing, he patted his forehead with a white handkerchief he drug out from one of the numerous pockets that could be found all over his pristine suit. Once he was done with the cloth, it had been unable to soak up all of his perspiration, it disappeared once again as he glanced around.
He had been working since after his morning tea, which by his estimate and the sun's positioning, had only been a little over an hour ago. The amount of weeds he had successfully torn from their soil beds was very obviously less that the amount he had to go.
Slowly he moved down the flower beds and following his resumption of toiling, he began to notice the gradual darkening of the air around him. Yamamoto's balance left him, and he fell flat on his bum, as a dark purple emblem started forming on the ground.
The emblem's amethyst light coated the area, and from what Yamamoto's astounded brain could register of the emblem, it was circular. Circular with a star shaped design in the middle, with strange runic symbols here and there about the demonic looking sign.
If only he knew.
Slowly, with aching muscles, Yamamoto rose to his feet and cautiously made his way over to where the symbol appeared. As he came up on it, it was clear that he had imagined nothing. The ground was charred and precise where the glowing rune had appeared even after the light it had produced proceeded to vanish.
As he passed the last rather high rose bush (he really must make plans to trim those back) he gasped. There on the ground, dead in the center of the burned emblem, was a small figure, dark and dingy red hair erupting like a halo, framing the - he supposed the figure was a child due to its small form – child's dirty face dramatically.
Upon closer inspection, as Yamamoto moved with careful steps towards the strange apparition, he concluded the child was male despite his grungy and effeminate face. He was dressed in a tattered and darkly stained cloak, which with a glimpse of his ruffled white undershirt, Yamamoto was able to conclude the stains to be blood.
The butler of the Potter House kneeled and rose with the disturbingly frail and thin child in his arms. A frown on the elderly man's face was the only indication that Yamamoto noticed the odor that came with close proximity with the boy.
While walking into the manor, Yamamoto frowned even more deeply, only in concentration rather then distaste, as he examined the child's features. His red hair was so long and horrendously unkempt and tangled and disgustingly filthy, but the shade, even as awful as it's condition, was disturbingly reminiscent of little Hylas Potter's.
"Oh, my! Whatever have you got there, Mr. Yamamoto?' Mrs. Reece exclaimed as she saw the bundle in her fellow servants arms.
Mrs. Reece fell in step with her colleague as they headed to the nearest washroom, so that they might clean the lad up. "A young lad, I presume, Mrs. Reece. It's the queerest thing I've ever seen." Yamamoto replied with a shake of his head.
"How do you mean?" For it was strange in the first place for anyone to be in proximity to Potter Manor at all, due to the ill-omened rumors. The only people who lived within five miles besides Yamamoto, who lived in the servant's quarters, were the Reeces –Mrs. Reece and her husband, who was a doctor. The nearest town was a distance of ten miles away.
"This child came from nowhere – oh you think I jest Mrs. Reece but I am entirely serious. There was a bright light, of a purple hue, it was, and the child just appeared from some circular ruin that had burned itself into Lady Jasmine's rose garden." Said Mr. Yamamoto explaining the circumstances to his disbelieving companion.
"Hmph. I think you tease me, Mr. Yamamoto." She said huffily.
Mr. Yamamoto sighed. "As you like, Mrs. Reece. Nevertheless, tend to this young man while I go fetch Dr. Reece, if you would."
"Of course. Wherever the boy came from, it looks like the devil's had a go at him at some point. Run along and get my husband. I'll work on washing the lad up – bet he'll be quite a sight once he's clean." Mrs. Reece said thoughtfully.
Mr. Yamamoto helped her get him undressed (revealing a number of horrific, and rather recent scars all over his pale skin) and instructed her on which room to place the child once she was finished cleaning and dressing the boy (he wasn't worried about her being able to lift the child, he was much too light), before heading to get the doctor.
When the two men returned a short period later, it was to a pale and shaking Mrs. Reece. She was coming down the foyer's stairs, grasping the banister with white knuckles as if she would collapse if her grip loosened even a bit, and she was gasping for each breath she took.
"Dear lord, Mary! What's happened? Are you all right, darling?" Dr. Reece exclaimed upon catching sight of his wife in such a state, rushing as fast as he could to her side – with Mr. Yamamoto right behind him – just as her legs gave from under her.
"Mary!"
"Mrs. Reece!"
She clasped Mr. Yamamoto's hands in a deathly grip, surprising both men, and with tears streaming down her colorless checks she spoke with a quavering voice:
"The c-child…the child! He, he's – oh father above! I can't believe it! Hylas, our dear little lord…That child is our little lord Hylas! He's returned to us!"
Anything further to be said by Mrs. Mary Reece was lost as she burst into tears from the emotion she felt at the lost child's return.
Mr. Yamamoto stood straight up. He left the weeping maid to her husband and ran. It was much faster than anyone would expect of a man of such advanced age, and yet he ignored his creaking, aching joints and pushed even faster. He burst forth into the room –
"Mr. Jun…" the boy – no Young Master Hylas said.
Mr. Yamamoto walked with unsteady legs before falling helplessly into the chair beside the bed (too simple a bed for his lord to grace the presence). Hylas was sitting, propped against a pillow, his long, now brilliant red locks falling softly to the mattress, his eyes – now that they were open – were the same clear and magnificent emerald that Mr. Yamamoto recalled. He looked so much like Lady Jasmine…
No one but little lord Hylas had ever called him 'Mr. Jun' - it was short for his first name Junichi, which no one ever used because he forbade it, with the only exception being his cousin Tanaka and the little lord that he had dearly missed over the years.
He took a dry gulp. "No one, young master, or rather Earl Potter, has called me that in much too long."
Those green eyes, so beautiful and absent from his sight for six long years, widened. "What was that? Earl Potter-? I'm not. What of my father?" Mr. Yamamoto nodded sadly. "Mother-?" Another nod to his lord.
They sat in silence until Mr. Yamamoto said:
"Happy Birthday, Lord Hylas."
The new thirteen year old covered his eyes with one hand, the other grasping at his throat.
In retrospect, Mr. Yamamoto reflected with tears welling up in his eyes, that might have come out crueler than intended.
That night, after he had been relocated to his old rooms (which Mrs. Reece had kept in immaculate condition since his 'disappearance' - he told them no specifics only that he had been kidnapped and had managed to eventually escape his imprisonment), a dark presence appeared to him.
"Hello again, my lord." The voice purred. "Did everything I've done for you meet your specifications?"
"Perfectly," he admitted blankly, not quite sure how the being was going to eat his magic. "However, before you collect, I desire you to do three things."
"Is that so?" said the unseen creature, not sounding at all pleased.
"Firstly, tell me what you are exactly."
"A demon, dear. I hope you didn't think me an angel, for that would be a most grievous error."
"Hardly," said Hylas, rather dryly. "Second, I wish to know your name, demon."
"No can do, sweetheart." Hylas noted that the demon was using more and more irritating terms of endearment every time he addressed him. Whatever, Hylas couldn't bring himself to care. "Names are powerful things, dear-heart. We demons don't go about giving them out to everyone we run across like you humans do. However, as my master you may choose a name to call me."
A momentary pause. "What does your name start with? Which letter?"
"Hmm. 'M', sweet-boy."
Hylas thought for a moment before, "Marcus Samil, then."
"How mean."
Hylas snorted, most unbecomingly, he just didn't care. "What's mean is that I still have no inkling of what you look like, Marcus."
Out of the darkness stepped out a man with gray blond shoulder length hair that was in messy curls. He was handsome, Hylas could admit, and had a devilishly mischievous smirk upon his lips. He was dressed in a sloppily done up white button up shirt with khaki colored trousers. His eyes were a red hue.
The newly dubbed Marcus smirked wider as Hylas was inspecting him, and twirled around, "Broke the mold when they created me - I know. But really, you need to put those pretty green eyes back. You still haven't said your final command, sugar." Said Marcus.
Hylas frowned, the slightest blush marring his cheeks. "Yes. My final command. Make me a mirror that connects this world and the one you found me in."
It was Marcus' turn to frown. "You were so desperate to have me take you here, your home world. Why ever would you want anything to connect you back there?"
Hylas thought of Fred and George and Nigel, and believe himself to have plenty of reason. "No matter my reason, just do it." He gave Marcus the exact address in the other world's London (Nigel's shop) to connect the mirror to.
"It shall be done, princess."
Hylas rolled his eyes, not aware that doing so sealed that as his nickname from the demon, "I expect nothing less. Now, come get your meal."
Marcus licked his lips with delight. "With pleasure, princess, with pleasure."
And with that he descended upon Hylas.
A few minutes later Marcus walked away from a newly unconscious Hylas, saying, "I'd better get started on that mirror the princess wants." And with that he disappeared exactly as he had appeared.
AN: I hope everyone is pleased with this chapter.
Samil - is a variant of the Hebrew name Samael, the name of an angel of death, also means 'poison of God' and 'serpent' from what I've found.
Please tell me what you think.