Sacrificed During a Violet Moon

Description: Duo's POV, except for beginning part. Duo, ever since he was a little baby, never knew his family. He was left to an orphanage in the city without anything but the clothes he wore and the necklace around his neck, something that speaks of his mysterious and painful past. Yet, when after almost 18 years of his life he has to return back home, he never expected it to be a repetition of things he never remembered in the first place of when he was just a baby, chosen as the sacrifice of the violet moon and a past come back to haunt him.

Pairing's: 1+2/1x2 (if you haven't noticed I abhor 2x1 and you will never see me with anything relating to it, sorry to all those fans who do, my best friend for example), 3+4/possibly 3x4 (I most likely won't, since I believe that their relationship works best if subtle hints are dropped from the sky), 13+6+5/possibly 13x6x5 in future, 13x5 mention in past but 6x5 in past (this has become my most favorite paring next to 1x2). As I am on Fanfiction all MA material will be on my website in livejournal.

Chap 2: Telford

"Her hair glowing in the firelight, her breast full, her belly swollen, a sunset of firelight wavering all down one side, my wife sleeps on, happy, far away, in some other, newly opened room of the world."

Her words resounded through me. My stepmother was a lovely woman, I could have never asked for a more generous guardian. It was her favorite poem; something she had always recited to me every night. The Call Across The Valley of Not-Knowing by Galway Kinnell.

When is it, when life seems to echo and repeat until you're back at the sickening beginning? When the beaten path ends……forks off in two directions. One to insanity, where only your thoughts, your feelings and your heartbeat exist…… The second where you just start all over……never knowing when you're going to fall. Why, I ask myself, as I watch a familiar landscape pass by me. One I've seen, if not a million times before, in my mind and every time it appears, I feel more and more alone. A cold and shivering child, without a home, without a family……without a past…… That's me……my life fits in one sad sentence.

I let my eyes coast over the horizon, it bleeds, like my soul……like my heart. The colors blend together into colors that I've only dreamt of and used in my paintings. Violet, ginger, golden, and azure……all too pure, all too real, unlike the earth, which it paints…… The passing scenery seems dead, trees gone black over the centuries that they have stood. Leaves, falling dead to the ground, littering the forest were dying and its foliage could no longer hold on.

I vaguely remember them. Those trees…… So long ago that its memory seems false, implanted there for only me to view and left wondering. The train moves too fast to really look, although the urge to pull the flimsy string above my head to stop the bulleting train is great, I will not. Time will not stop for me so that I can selfishly try to find a clue……anything that answers such a simple question……who am I? Who were the ones who brought me into this world? Why was I left……alone?

"Excuse me sir, but your stop is coming up." A soft, almost too sincere and gentle voice alerts me to another presence. I look up and see the conductor, an old gentlemen wearing a traditional blue suit and hat. He smiles a knowing smile. One that I've memorized from the people around me. Everyone smiles like that……like they know, like they have always known. But they don't.

"Thank you." I return back to the window, letting the frigid glass cool my heated skin. My heart was beating fast, too fast. I wasn't ready for this, for this knowledge. I thought I had closed this chapter of my life for good, yet it seemed to haunt me, even in my dreams. My heart beat vibrated through my blood, creating tremors in my limbs, a headache and numerous faults that I couldn't conceive at the moment. Soon I would be there, soon I would face it……my home.

The train whistled, shrilled, shrieking out its call to passengers, telling them that it was about to stop, resounding through the quiet and almost empty car. A man, in his early sixties, late fifties at least, and a young women with a boy of seven hanging onto her were the only other travelers. The boy, who I had taken to staring at frequently through the trip, was handsome, strapping, and I knew he would be a head turner once he grew up. Every girl in the county would hang onto him, demanding his attention. Blonde hair, soft baby blues, the ideal heartbreaker, almost too nauseatingly stereotypical, yet the mother, who barely spoke more then ten words throughout the entire trip, looked almost, if not exactly like him.

I can't help but wonder where the father is, and why they are on a train going to some distant part of the world where barely anything happens. And I just have an urge to walk up to the pair and ask if they felt pain, if they knew what it really was? But I didn't and I won't, because I can tell by the eager eyes of the young boy that he doesn't know much grief and that where ever they are heading, it's not boring……its not scary, unlike my own destination.

"Telford, sixth stop." Sighing profoundly I stood from my flat and uncomfortable seat. Grabbing my beat up old black backpack and a matching suitcase of the same or poorer quality, I made my way off the rickety train. Heh, I wasn't rich. Never knew the taste of money, although I once had a $20 bill in my pocket for more then a day. Saved it for over five months until I had to use it in order to save my hide.

Stepping onto the almost vacant platform, I noticed that the entire train and station were of the same worth, very, very poor. Suddenly I felt at home.

"Excuse me, are ya Duo Maxwell?" I turned around upon hearing the gentle call. Sure enough there was a middle aged woman staring back at me, round chocolate-brown eyes watching intently, waiting for an answer. Numbly I nodded my head, the long braided mass of auburn hair swishing against my backside as I did. "Well, just my luck. I figured I'd have to look all over 'de place for you."

I smiled tersely, the idea that she couldn't find me in a place like Telford was excruciatingly funny. But then again, I find everything humorous, even a sleeping dog. God only knows. Unconsciously I grabbed hold of the pendant dangling from my neck, its natural heat, warming my fingertips, bringing with it a strange sort of comfort. The ladies eyes narrowed upon the moving of my hand towards my neck, and widened only slightly at the necklace.

"Where did ya get 'dat?" I looked down, bringing the object of sudden scrutiny forward uneasily. It was something I usually forgot was about my neck. Like it was an appendage that somehow mystified me into believing it wasn't there. The damn thing always got me into trouble to. The pendant was the only thing on me that looked worth stealing and I had a hard time trying to keep greedy paws off of it.

"Oh, this, um……it's nothing really. Family heirloom I guess. Any hoot, where will I be staying again, Mrs. Argo, right?" The pleasantly plump woman nodded enthusiastically before motioning for me to follow.

The streets of Telford were still strangely, cobble stone. Although, in some places, parts of it were filled in with new, bright red bricks, it still held an air of the 15th century about it. For the life of me I could not remember why this place meant so much. I had been given a picture by the nuns who had taken care of me of when my mother was still pregnant with me and the place just looked so wonderful in the photos. 'Maybe this was just time come a knocking,' I thought sharply as I was led down narrow streets filled with beat up cars and horses. More horses then cars it seemed but, this was a working and secluded village so I wasn't too worried about the lack of the 21st civilization being present.

I suddenly paused turning to look across the street at a car that seemed just too out of place in shabby old Telford. It was a sleek navy blue mustang GT, its undamaged and pristine condition creating what seemed like technology gone awry on such an old and ancient street.

"Um, whose car is that?" I whispered, hoping the lady had not heard my words, but before I could move on and forget the stunning piece of metal on wheels she spoke carefully, not even bothering to turn around.

"'Dat would be old Mr. Callaway's son's car. 'E runs this 'ear town. Such a nice boy 'e is. Rather fond of his demeanor an' the way 'e treats a lady as well." I looked back over at the car briefly before walking along, hoping I didn't have to meet this, Mr. Callaway's son. He just didn't ring right and I know all about ringing. Heck, everybody back home says I'm nuts and should seek mental health. Not like I wouldn't consider it. Yeah they lock you up and give you happy slappy drugs, but you got a bed, warmth, food and the occasional fun. The only thing wrong with this plan was that I wasn't nuts, crazy, wacko, or even the little bit kooky. Okay, alright, you got me; I'm most of those, but all in a sane way. "Um, 'ello, are ya'll right. Been trying to get your attention an' ya left 'de building."

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said 'dat be it up there on the hillside. Wonderful lookin place, but you don't ever see me there. You folks always lookin for adventure. Hope your stay isn't……to long." With that she walked away, head down and hands fiddling with the hem on her egg shell colored shirt.

"You people are weird." I abruptly turned around and examined my home for the remainder of my stay at Telford. It was the only place that had vacancies at this time of year since folk from the cities seemed to enjoy Telford's unique calm and beauty, only found out in the country. So, since I was to slothful to get my butt out of bed and go to the travel agency on time, I was stuck with old Lowe Manor. It was actually a hotel slash horror house, so to speak. People reside in the rather large manor home and take tours throughout their stay on all the spooky things it has to offer. 'Like outdoor plumping……most likely,' sighing I slung my duffel onto my shoulder with my backpack and trudged up the rocky path.

The travel agent said that Lowe manor wasn't just a closeted thrill seekers paradise where city folk let go of inhibitions and tour the haunted money maker, but a beauty that had survived over hundreds and hundreds of years. It was built at least two miles from town, surrounded by a forest and built into a cliff. 'Defense was a very big thing back then and by building it in its exact location it was never breached.' But I knew better. Anything can be breached if you put your mind to it, and I told my mystified elderly travel women that to her face breaking the eerily mystical moment she created.

Trees……trees, trees, and more trees. Yep, that was basically all there was……on the left and on the right. Even in front and back. It was like being surrounded, suffocated, albeit the narrow path weaved in and out, snake like through and through. "Are we almost there yet?" I whined quietly to myself, feet already tired from all the traveling I had done previously.

"This place better have hot water and a big bed or they are not going to like the consequences." Another seven minutes later, and I could just see the tip of one of the towers peeking over the tall evergreens. "Oh thank god! Need to rest."

Hurrying as fast as I could towards the manor, knowing fully well that I would skip the tour and head straight to the relaxing. Who needs a group tour anyway? It will probably be full of old couples asking a million questions holding up the group until you've spent so much time on one thing and can't stand to even think about the next destination. Hey, don't laugh, cause it's true. That's why I don't go to museums with only tours. The guides want you to interact and they'll ask you questions and basically suck all the fun out of it.

I burst through the forest and met with two solid ebony gates surrounded by two gatehouses where guards most likely sat during their duties late in the day. Their aged designs akin to vines twisting and wriggling in a mass orgy of movement and in the middle were the letters L and M. "Ok, creepy gate…I can get used to that." But then I focused beyond the gate to my new home for the next couple of weeks and decided…my heart had truly skipped a beat. The architecture was truly amazing and truly frightening. Manor was in fact not really a manor at all. Well, at least not any manor I thought it would look like. Weathered stones inlaid upon each turret and tier and there were millions of them, so many I didn't dare count. Windowpanes handcrafted delicately with precious gold metal segmented each design. It was truly hard to describe the place…but it put most castles…and or manors, I've ever seen in pictures to shame. But the centerpiece…the one thing that seemed almost out of place…was the gold clock set at the highest tower. It's numerals glinting in the sun.

Sighing I moved towards the gates hesitantly fingering the lock on the inside. "Hello! Is anyone there?" Waiting a second for an answer and getting none, I huffed and dropped my luggage, prowling about the monstrosities for another entrance. "Well, punctuality isn't one of their strong suits." I went over to the stone wall connected to the gatehouse and prodded it testingly. There were little holes and cracks that I could easily stick my foot into so I could climb over the forsaken wall. I could get someone and bring them back so I could get my luggage.

Getting ready to leaver my foot up, a voice behind me startled me out of my mission. "What are you doing?"

Cranking my head about, I met with a pair of bemused aquamarine eyes and a feathery blonde head. "Uh, climbing?"

"I see that, but why?" The man behind me cocked his head, appearing to be waiting for the answer.

"Well, no one answered the gate, so I thought I would just hop over and…get someone?" 'Way to go idiot…' I thought angrily as the blonde man smirked delicately at me.

"Well, I don't know about climbing but the caretaker usually comes down to the gate every half hour when guests are expected. So that would mean that someone should be here soon." The other man stopped quickly, looked down at his 'really expensive Rolex!' and then back up at me, nodding as if affirming his story. "Don't you believe me? Or do you just like hanging onto walls like a monkey?"

I blushed and quickly scrambled down the moss and dust caked wall, rubbing my now extremely dirty hands on my pants. "Hi, I'm Duo Maxwell. You are?"

"Quatre Winner, pleased to meet you." We shook hands, my cheeks pinking when I realized how dirty my hands must have still been, while Rich Price opposite me was a picture of perfection.

"Sorry, I'm getting dirt on you."

"It's all right. It's why I come here. To get away from cleanliness…and constant bickering from those who think I can't take care of myself." Quatre smiled pleasantly, eyes focused on the manor behind me. "So…why are you here. I'm sure I've never seen you before."

"What, you don't get many newcomers to this place?" I walked back over to my luggage and took a seat, body sore from the long trek to stand any longer. There was nothing in there for me to crush anyway. "Wait, why are you still waiting out here then?"

Quatre blushed and looked down, "I just got here a little earlier then I was expecting and well, here I wait. Not that I mind." Quatre also went over to his luggage, which to my astonishment could have been at least three times what my wardrobe consisted of. "And well, they don't really receive that many new faces. Usually it's only myself and a couple other people who use this place as retreat from their daily lives."

Well, seems my travel agent exaggerated a bit. "How long do you stay here?"

Quatre looked back at me, eyebrows reaching his hairline. "Oh, um, quite awhile actually."

Our conversation was cut short when a gruff hello was issued from behind the twin gates to hell. I turned about and did a double take at who stood there. The man was slight, with black hair and Asian features. His eyes were slanted, wary… I couldn't help but grin mentally, 'well, at least we have something good about this place.'

"Why hello to you to Wufei. It's nice to see you again." Quatre went up to the man and smiled angelically through the gates. Somehow, I knew it wasn't something the blonde man did for just everyone.

"As for you as well Mr. Winner." Wufei went about unlocking the gates, expression still like marble.

"How many times must I tell you its Quatre. Only my associates call me that and you are far from being one of those stuffy old geezers. Or are you?" Wufei blinked for a second before returning back to his impression of a tree. Which I might add, he did very well.

"Very well sir…Quatre." Wufei let the large gates swing open, heading straight passed me to get to Quatre's extravagant and extremely large collection of suitcases. Me and my one suitcase, aka a beat up duffel and back pack were feeling a bit…small.

"Oh and Wufei, we have a new guest with us." Quatre smiled at me and trudged on ahead, his small hands wrapped around two hefty cases. Sighing, I was about to head along with my new acquaintance when I felt a strong hand grab my shoulder; turning me to face the man Quatre had called Wufei. From up close, one could definitely see an obvious quality of stubbornness and frequent stress in the Asian man or boy. He could have been teetering on 18 or 19 like myself.

"Yes?" Generally I broke anyone's hand that strayed to close to my neck, habit I guess, but this one didn't seem like the type to try anything funny.

"Mr. Maxwell?"

"Yes…" His hand relaxed and shortly fell away slowly from my person, black beady eyes still attached to my own.

"Follow me…don't get lost." With that Wufei trudged ahead. Arms straining with the four suitcases he held. Poor thing. Must get a lot of that, and here I am with one free hand…

Running ahead, I met up with him. "Hey, can I help you with one of those. You know, me having a free and helping hand and all…?" The other stopped and stared at me, his eyes drilling into my own. It was actually quite unnerving…

"Fine…" I quickly took one from him. This was great; I could make two friends in one day while I was here. "If you drop it, you pay for whatever's broken or what needs to be cleaned of Mr. Win…Quatre's things." Wufei went ahead, one of the salmon and white suitcases held in my grasp.

Ok, so maybe just one friend.

A/N: Alright jess-eklom I've fixed the chapter up. Thanks again for telling me about the Lowe Manor things.