Sol of Luna: Near and Far

Author: Gakusangi

Author's Notes and Acknowledgements:
RECAP - We were introduced to a pair of mercenaries, an older man named, Roger, and his hotheaded companion, a young, blonde boy named, Mello. The two had been hired to discuss a potential job as bodyguards to a high-ranking official. As it turned out, their charge was a small, white haired boy named, Near. Roger decided that the safest place to keep Near was the mercenary guild headquarters in Akkiya. However, they were ambushed as they were leaving, and Roger was killed. With his last breath, Roger told Mello to take the young 'Prince' to the Guild. Mello took Near by the hand and ran for the woods, hoping that they could lose their pursuers under the cover of night.

This is a Death Note fan fiction. Many of the characters presented here are not mine, but the legal property of writer Tsugumi Ohba, and artist Takeshi Obata.

Chapter 02: The Two Enigmas

Mello finally stopped, dropping to the ground, Near falling beside him.

"Rest…for…a sec!" Mello panted. "We've got…a lot…more…running to do!"

Near didn't respond. He was laying on the ground, clutching his aching chest, his breath coming in labored gasps. Mello wasn't in much better shape. With each breath he took, his stomach threatened to go sour on him, and purge itself of whatever he had eaten in the past few hours. Is mouth was filled with the taste of bile, and thick with mucus. He spit in an attempt to relieve himself of the foul taste, but it didn't do him any good. The sent of the morning dew was fresh in the air, and Mello knew that dawn was fast approaching. He didn't know if they had managed to elude their pursuers, but they needed a moment to recuperate. He closed his eyes to think for a moment, to clear his swirling head. In that moment, the darkness of fatigue overtook him.

--

The herald came rushing into the throne room, falling into a low bow as he reached the steps that ascended to the Emperor's throne. The Emperor himself wasn't very large, or powerful in body. He was pale - ghostly pale, with long, silky, white hair. He had pale grey eyes, almost white in color, with pupils that seemed far too small, especially for the dimly lit chamber in which he resided. The sleeves of his elegant, white robes were so long that they fell over the stairs leading up to his throne. The herald did not raise his eyes, and waited for the Emperor to address him before he spoke.

"Speak." The Emperor commanded in his dead tone, which still sent chills down the man's spine, even after twenty years of loyal service.

It was horrible, and he feared how the Emperor might react. He'd seen his Emperor remained composed in even the most tense situations. But this was different. This was his wife.

"My Emperor." The herald said, still not making eye contact. "Your beloved has died. She took her own life in the middle of the night."

There was a pause. The herald's heart raced, and he held his breath. The Emperor rose, and started slowly down the steps. His long bangs fell from his shoulder and obscured the right half of his face.

"I must see her." The Emperor stated, his tone just as lifeless as it had been before.

He stood before the herald on the last step, looming over the kneeling man.

"Send for Near." The Emperor commanded with his empty voice. "I wish to tell him myself."

The herald swallowed, and forced the next words out of his mouth, a cold sweat breaking out on his wrinkled brow.

"My Emperor," The herald began, "We did not find the Prince in his bedchambers this morning. We have the royal guard searching the palace at this moment."

"Rally the city watch, and send out the Kagebannin." The Emperor told the herald, his words were fast in pace, but still emotionless. "I want every inch of the city searched. I want my son found."

"Y-yes, your Highness!" The herald stammered, leaping to his feet and rushing from the room.

The Emperor pondered for a moment, before finally leaving the room to confirm the body of the woman he loved…had loved.

--

Roger knew the story. The boy had been found among the charred remains of the town. Another victim of the Clan Wars, who didn't get the mercy of death as his life was burned along with everything he knew. The door was ajar, and Roger caught a glimpse of the small, blonde haired boy sitting outside in the hall. Roger sighed sympathetically, and beckoned the boy inside. The child rose and hesitantly stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He fixed his ocean blue eyes on the old man. They were so soft, yet so sharp, edged by pain and suffering.

"Welcome." Roger said gently, but knew that his words could provide little comfort. "My name is Roger Ruvie. You can call me Roger. What's your name?"

The boy lowered his head a little, but his eyes remained locked with Rogers.

"The Guild is a place of learning, and noble service." Roger said. "Here you will have the opportunity to learn various skills required for almost any line of work you could imagine."

The boy remained silent. He broke eye contact with Roger and nervously cast his gaze around the room, taking in every detail.

"It's hard life, if you can't help yourself." Roger continued. "But by the time you have graduated, you will be among the most capable individuals in the world."

The boy's eyes returned to the veteran mercenary.

"Make the Guild your new home." Roger said. "Let the cadets become your siblings, and the instructors your parents. Not may people have the luxury of such a choice."

The boy's eyes shimmered with lament intellect. He was smart, as L had been when he first arrived. They were so similar. Roger new potential when he saw it. The boy gave a nod.

"Excellent." Roger replied. "It is required, that all members of the Guild adopt an alias, to which they will be known from the moment of their initiation. You may choose one now, if you so wish, or we can assign one to you."

"Can I think about it?" The boy asked in a small voice.

"Of course." Roger answered. "In the meantime, don't share your name with anyone you meet here."

The boy nodded in silent agreement.

--

Mello's eyes shot open, and as they came into focus, he realized that the sun was already overhead. He hadn't intended to fall asleep, but exhaustion had overtaken him, as it had Near. Near! He shot up and looked about frantically. Near lay a short distance away, still fast asleep. Mello let out a slow, relieved breath. He moved over to the smaller boy and shook him roughly to wake him up. Near stirred, his eyes opening slowly, dark, like the depths of a black sea.

"Rise and shine!" Mello snapped. "We're losing time while you're catching up on your beauty sleep!"

Near sat up and rubbed his eyes. Mello glanced around. The air was calm, and warm. There didn't appear to be any signs of danger. Regardless, he had to be cautious. Roger had noticed the men before the attack, but it hadn't saved his life. Mello felt a dull ache in his chest, and his eyes seemed to burn. He quickly shook the thought from his mind, flopping down on the ground with his back propped up against a nearby tree. He reached into his vest pocket and withdrew a piece of chocolate. He bit into it, and thought for a moment.

"It's a wonder we weren't eaten by wolves in the middle of the night." Mello remarked.

He turned to Near, and noticed the boy staring at his treat, curling a lock of his ivory hair around one finger. Mello reluctantly broke off a piece of the chocolate and offered it to the smaller boy, who accepted it. They ate in silence. When he had finished, Mello rose and brushed the dirt from his knees.

"We'd better get going." Mello told Near. "They're bound to pick up on us soon."

Mello led the way, with Near following closely behind. He set a brisk pace, but one that the smaller boy could keep up with. He noticed how Near's movements seemed strangely awkward and even a little clumsy, as though he weren't used to moving around.

"Royalty," Mello scoffed, "Not used to getting anywhere without someone carrying you on their shoulders?"

Near didn't answer, he only curled a slender finger in his hair. Mello snorted at his silence. They walked on. Mello thought about his and Roger's departure from the Guild, only two days prior. Two days that already seemed like a lifetime. He wondered how the others were doing. Matt, Linda, L. He saw their faces in his mind, and felt a warm, yet sad feeling grip his heart. He pushed the feeling aside. He had to focus on the here and now, not drift into fond memories.

The forest was dense, trapping the heat of afternoon, and the humidity only made it worse. Mello had slowed to a steady pace, because he wasn't entirely sure where it was. However, Near seemed to keep falling behind. Every couple of minutes, Mello was forced to stop and wait for the younger boy to catch up. Mello understood that they had spent a lot of energy running the night before, and that neither of them had gotten a full night's rest. But this seemed different, Near seemed to be struggling to remain conscious.

At one point Mello stopped to check the area for signs of danger. Meanwhile, Near leaned up against a tree for support. Once Mello was satisfied that there wasn't any threat nearby, he turned to Near. The white haired boy was propped up against the tree, fast asleep. Frustrated, Mello walked up and kicked Near over, spilling the smaller boy onto the ground. Near looked up at Mello blankly.

"Rest when you're dead!" Mello snapped. "In the meantime, don't slow me down!"

The resumed their journey. But something else happened to slow progress a second time. Mello stepped into a large clearing, thankful that the thick canopy overhead had finally broken, and that he could get some fresh air, and check the sky. He was standing in the center of the clearing when he suddenly realized that he was standing alone. He looked back and spotted Near, standing just outside the edge of the clearing.

"What is it?" Mello asked, wondering if Near had noticed something he hadn't.

Mello glanced about, but found no indication of danger. He looked back at Near questioningly.

"What's wrong?" Mello demanded.

Near remained silent, standing in the shadows just outside the clearing, curling his hair again.

"Get over here!" Mello barked. "We need to move on!"

Near looked up through the break in the canopy. He squinted as though the light stung his eyes. Then he reluctantly stepped into the clearing. The reaction was unlike anything Mello had ever before witnessed. Near yelped in surprise and pain, the moment the sunlight touched his body. He fell to his knees and used his arms to try and shield himself from the sun's rays. Mello ran over to the boy's side, his body blocking the sunlight, and casting a shadow over the smaller boy. Near relaxed, his arms falling to his sides, and pulled on leg up to his chest.

Mello looked up at the sky, a strange thought crossing his mind. Could someone really have an aversion to sunlight? Was that even possible? He looked back down at the boy before him. If there were anyone who could be harmed by the sun, it would have been this boy. He looked as though he'd never seen the light of day. Mello removed his jacket. It was crimson in color, with a hood and black, fur trim on the edges. He draped it over the white haired boy, and pulled the hood over his head. Mello stepped back then, removing his protective shadow from Near. Near didn't flinch, or cry out. The coat seemed to provide enough cover.

Near stood up. Though he was slouched, Mello new that the boy's full height would only bring him just below his chin. Mello nodded, and then turned to move on. Not a word was shared between the two boys. Not that Near would have shared a word anyway. Though Near was guarded from the sunlight, his fatigue only seemed to worsen as the day went on. Finally Mello stopped, realizing that they weren't going to make much progress by continuing, not at the pace they were going. He slumped down near a tree, while Near set himself on the ground. He was asleep in mere seconds. Annoyed, Mello snorted, and bit into another piece of chocolate. Mello closed his eyes, and fell back into his thoughts.

"The Sword alone can right your wrongs," Mello recited, "All brave men now must own it. The Sword to freedom's cause belongs. All history past has shown it."

It was a verse from the battle hymn that had been taught to him back at the Guild, when he was small child. They had all learned it, repeated it time and time again. When they did something wrong, they took their punishment and recited the hymn. When they were praised, they said the words proudly. Before they entered battle, this is what they would say. And when the dust of battle had settled, and they stood victorious, they would speak the hymn in triumph. The hymn was the way of the warrior, the way of the sword. That was the path that Mello had chosen. That was the path that had chosen him.

"In vain you weep, in vain you pray," Mello continued, "Your masters smile, and heed not. You sigh in vain, for freedom's ray, while corruption's foemen bleed not."

The sun began to set somewhere beyond the roof of leaves above them. Through the smaller openings, Mello could see the sky change to all shades of scarlet and violet, warm and beautiful in their intensity. The air cooled, but the forest managed to trap in most of the heat. Mello hummed to himself, letting the rest of the hymn play out in his mind. He longed to see the guildhalls again, to be with the people he cared for, and cared for him in return. He closed his eyes, and pictured the place he had called home for so many years.

--

The boy followed the veteran mercenary down a long corridor with a high ceiling. The old man seemed curious to him, somehow out of place. He wore fine clothing, black in color with a grey vest of silky quality, glasses, and wide brimmed hat. At his hips were holstered a pair of polished, ivory handled six-shooters, which caught the torchlight as he passed. His gun belts were laden with gleaming bullets, beautiful and deadly. Guns were rare, revolvers even more so. They could only have been imports, obtained at a high price. Who was this man? Where did he come from? Why did he come here? The questions flooded the young boy's mind.

There were no windows in the passage, only torches lighting the way. White banners hung upon the walls, the mark of the Guild showing proudly. It was a symbol, an iconic image, which anyone could recognize. It stood for peace, for justice, and for freedom. Where noble cause was present, the Guild was its driving force. To the people of this land, it was both the sword and the shield. The boy could not help but be overtaken with a sense of reverence as he looked upon it.

"This is the Champions Hall." Roger's voice brought the boy from his thoughts. "It is reserved for only the most renown of our ranks."

The boy glanced at the doors that flanked them on either side, knowing now that beyond them were the remains of the heroes spoken of in tales, and poems recited on the lips of the people they had served, and died for. He was walking among greatness, and he didn't fail to realize why Roger had chosen to take him through this corridor to his room, above all the other passages he could have taken. Roger stopped and turned to the blonde boy.

"This is our ultimate end." Roger said, his tone was proud yet somehow sad. "This is where we all desire to be."

The boy nodded in understanding, though Roger was certain that the real message he was trying to convey had gone undetected. They moved on.

--

Mello's eyes flashed open, and met with two, large black orbs, set in a very pale face. Mello stumbled over in surprise. Near looked down at him, silent as usual, but very much awake. Mello rose to his feet, gripping the smaller boy by his shirt and pulling him up with him. Near was on his toes, Mello having forced him up to eye level.

"Don't do that again!" Mello breathed threateningly.

He released Near, who didn't say anything, not that he had expected him to. Night had fallen over the forest, shadowing everything around the two boys. The air was brisk and filled with the sounds of nightlife. Mello turned to Near.

"Well if you're awake, let's get moving!" Mello snapped. "I have an idea of where we are, so come on!"

The last part had been a lie. Mello had no idea where they were, or where they were headed. But his nerves were shot, and he needed to move. Near didn't protest, falling in behind the blonde haired boy, and silently following along. Through the occasional break in the canopy, long beams of silvery moonlight marked their path. Not that there was much of a path to follow. There progress was slow, since they had to step carefully to avoid snags and holes. All the while, Mello's eyes darted about, ready for any indication of trouble.

The one thing that Mello's mind kept falling back on was Near. It was strange. The white haired boy couldn't have gotten much sleep between the time they had stopped and the moment he had been woken, but he seemed strangely refreshed. It was in extremes. One moment he was falling over in exhaustion, the next he was up and ready to move. What had happened? Near was silent, stepping wherever Mello stepped, as the blonde haired boy had instructed.

Then there was a scurrying sound that forced Mello to stop, nearly causing the boy behind him to bump into his back. Then the air was filled with that chilling whistle, and an arrow buried itself into a tree, narrowly missing Mello's head.

"Run!" Mello shouted, before the arrow had even stopped vibrating.

They took flight through the woods, bobbing and weaving through the trees, Mello dragging Near behind him. He could hear the sounds of pursuit. They were practically surrounded. Arrows whizzed by, coming just shy of their marks. Mello sped up, pulling Near painfully along. Then three attackers suddenly appeared before, seeming to materialize from the brush in their camouflage stealth gear, and masks. They advanced on the two boys. Mello released Near, keeping himself up front, shielding the smaller boy and drawing his sword. He deflected the first attack, and dispatched of the second assailant before he could strike. He dodge rolled aside from the third attacker.

Near fell back a ways, but tripped on an unseen root, spilling onto the ground. Mello ran through the first man, as he recovered from the boy's parry, and avoided a second attack from the third man. Another assassin appeared from the shadows and rushed towards Near, who lay helpless on the ground. He was almost upon the white haired boy, when suddenly something very large, and furry, cackled into him. Mello avoided a third attack and set a deep gash into the final assailants chest, dropping him as he had the other two. Then his attention was drawn back towards Near, as the sounds of someone screaming in agony filled his ears.

There lay another attacker, only an easily two hundred pound grey wolf, which bit at his shoulders and throat, was viciously mauling him. Soon the man lay motionless on the ground. More assailants rushed into the area, but they were met with more wolves, which seemed to bleed out of the forest from the very shadows that surrounded them. For every attacker there was, there were two wolves to meet him, until all lay torn to ribbons about that area. Mello stood in shocked silence, Near sat up and curled a lock of his hair with a pale, slender finger.

All the men lay dead now, the wolves moving from the corpses, finished with their bloody work, not even bothering to devour the flesh. Mello rushed up beside Near as the wolves closed in, his sword at ready. But Near stood and moved silently passed the blonde haired boy. He stood before the largest of the wolves, an ebony colored one with a scar down its left eye. It approached Near, a low growl issuing from deep within it, its teeth bared. Mello came closer, and reached for the smaller boy. Near reached out with his own hand, and gently stroked the wolf.

The wolf didn't attack or retreat from Near's touch, instead it relaxed. Near continued to pet the animal, which soon began licking his pale hand affectionately. The other wolves gathered around Near, now suddenly docile, the gore still dripping from their fangs. Near quietly pet each of the wolves in turn. Mello could only watch with mounting wonder. Who was this kid? Once they had gotten their fill, the wolves fell back and vanished into the night once more, not a sound to mark their passing. In the distance, a howl issued from somewhere deep in the forest.

Mello came up beside Near, who looked to him with dark, unreadable eyes.

"So now you're a dog whisperer?" Mello snapped angrily. "Come on!"

He took off into the forest, making sure to go the opposite direction from the wolves. Near followed closely behind.

--

The Emperor looked down into the pale face of Hyrua, his one true love. She laid on a table, draped with white cloth, her spirit having long departed from this world when she had taken her own life in the middle of the night. The Emperor's eyes did not waver, not a tear was shed. The surgeon stood in silence, unable to react to his Emperor's stillness, his lack of emotion. Was he suffering from shock? The surgeon had often heard of the Emperor's somewhat lifeless personality, but he had never expected this. There lay his wife, his beloved, and the mother of his two children. Yet nothing. He just stared quietly.

Finally the Emperor drew the sheet back over Hyrua's face. He looked to the surgeon, his cold, emotionless eyes causing the man to fidget under his gaze.

"Tell the man outside to send for Misa." The Emperor commanded in his dead tone. "I will tell her myself that her mother has departed from this world."

The surgeon nodded and fled from the room, thankful that he no longer had to look at those pale, dead eyes. Once he was alone, the Emperor looked to the corner of the room. There stood a creature that resembled a man only in the instance that it had four limbs, a body, and a head. It stood easily eight feet in height, while it was hunched, with panted features, like a fiendish clown, and a mouth filled with razor-like teeth. Its large, red eyes stared at the Emperor from a skull-like head. Other than to the royal family, the creature was invisible to all else. It was their dark little secret, and the key to their rule.

"She has taken matters into her own hands." The Emperor told the creature, his voice lifeless as usual. "And set things into motion much sooner than we had anticipated."

The creature laughed wickedly.

"Sounds like I'm gonna get some action." The creature replied. "At long last. I've been so bored lately."

The Emperor reached into the folds of his white robes, and with drew a gleaming, red apple. He held it out before the creature, which happily took it in a clawed hand, and devoured it in one bite. It belched loudly, patting its stomach in satisfaction, and licking its lips with a long, black tongue.

"Now it's time for my counter." The Emperor said. "I must be swift, otherwise I'll be too late."

"The other hasn't even woken yet." The creature responded. "And there's still plenty of time before the alignment."

"Nevertheless," The Emperor replied, "If the other half awakens, then our chances of success diminish to nearly nothing. We must do all in our power to prevent this from happening."

The creature blinked.

"What do you have in mind?" It asked gleefully.

The Emperor grinned. It was a rare and terrible thing. And the idea behind it was far more terrible.

To Be Continued…

Author's Comments

The battle hymn is actually an excerpt from a poem entitled, The Sword Alone, and I have no idea who wrote it.

I Meant to submit this yesterday, but all the kids got out of school and I bumped off the computer. Sorry.

Yes! Mello hates Near for reasons other than constantly upstaging him. And yes! Misa is Near's sister! What a twist!

Stick around, there's more in store. Hah, that rhymed! Make sure you comment or I won't think anyone's reading, and therefore wont continue.