Hiya Demon Oki again! ^___^, Well here it is! Me epic … my baby! I LOVE this story, this was inspired by a dream I had. I became obsessed with it, and THIS is what I came up with! Please let me know if it is okay, Okies!? I may love this story … but that doesn't mean anyone else will -_-;;! ANYHOO! On with Chapter One!

Silence in Darkness

Chains that Bind

Isteria, a continent in constant turmoil! Ruled by the kingdom of Ikthsba and the Metariki Empire. A place where people still feared darkness, the unknown, and things they didn't understand. A place where angels, along with demons, were hunted down and slaughtered to appease this fear. Sorcerers've locked themselves away in tower's waiting. An ill at ease peace has since settled over the land, and the days grow longer, the people fear less and less, however …

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"SOLD!!" the booming voice of a large slave trader rang out. The crowd was a torrent of mixed emotions. Some cheered others grumbled. An overall mummer was the only sound that could be heard. With several tugs the reluctant merchandise finally started to walk. the slave shut out the sounds from the crowd, focusing on the "clinking" of the chain links as he obediently followed the trader. Looking at nothing in particular, the slave just stood there as the money changed hands. His face stone, the constant melancholy forever etched in his "white marble" face. He wanted to die, he had wished for his death everyday since …

His new owner pulled the chain tightly, forcing the slave to gasp for air, as he resisted. He wanted no more. As he grappled at the collar around his slim neck, his wish for death growing stronger with each, passing breathe. It became stronger and stronger until it blared in his mind like a siren forever burning in his brain. With a loud "Kurchink" the chain went slack! Looking up the slave was met with two beautiful, moonlight eyes. So much emotion reflected in those eyes, the slave was stunned. He saw things in those eyes he had NEVER seen before, concern!? Empathy!? INOCENCE!? He couldn't tear his eyes away from this young boy.

They were about the same height. The boy had bright blue hair pulled back into a braid, falling to about the middle of his shoulder blades. He was wearing interesting headgear, very ethnic (but the slave couldn't quite place the ethnicity). It wrapped around his forehead, under his bangs, and along the top of his head. Just above his ears were large round discs and from the discs hung three long leather strips, each in a different color. Despite the oddness of it, it looked nice on him. He was thin, perhaps not as thin as the slave but thin nonetheless, and wore an interesting outfit. Many layers, he was wearing black leggings with knee-high boots and knee plates. He was wearing a red Metariki styled tunic[1], and a black ratiki[2] on his arms, the slave could see its fastening through the opening of his shirt. He wore more armor plates on his elbows and the backs of his hands. He wore red teardrop earrings in both ears, and had on several necklaces … it was quite obvious that this boy was in the upper class. The sheath to his double-edged sword hung from his narrow hips, as the mysterious boy tried to defend this slave. But!? WHY!?

"Just who the hell do you pigs think you are!? People aren't a commodity that can be bought and sold! We all have souls! We should … ALL… be treated as such!" the young man said passionately. Some of the crowd cheered, others gasped in disbelief. Centuries began filing into the small market square. At first there were only two, both drew their swords and lunged at the boy at the same time. The slave couldn't help but cover his face with his hands, cringing when he heard a pained yelp. But when he looked up he found one of the centuries had been stabbed in the shoulder, the other had dodged the boy's counter attack but he was still taken aback. Both lunged again and the slave found himself unable to look away this time. The injured century, wearing a green tunic under his gold colored armor, attacked … forcing the boys sword away as the other century, wearing a red tunic thrust his sword toward the young one's face. It all happened so fast! The boy tilted his head barely to the side, avoiding the blade. The century in green forced the boy's sword toward the ground with a bind[3], as the century in red regained his composure and using his full body weight, wound his sword over his head, swinging it down like a hammer. Quickly the boy disengaged his sword from the other, pushing the man in green away with a kick to his injured shoulder, without time to spare, he brought his sword up to block, mere inches away from his face, using his free hand to steady the blade. The man in red's attack came down hard, the young boy winced as his own sword sliced into his free hand. His crimson blood began to trickle down his wrist, soaking into his black ratiki making the already dark fabric appear to darken. With an In Quartata[4]the boy pulled the sword from the older man's hand, then with the grace of a swan, the boy rolled over his wrist and plunged the sword deep into his opponent's upper thigh.

"guaaaaaaaah!" the man in red yelped as he fell to the ground clutching his leg as the blood spurted all over the place. The man in green had already passed out from his own injury. The blue haired boy whirled around to the slave, to his amazement, the young swordsman had a tiny gash under his left eye, nothing serious but definitely deep enough to scar. The boy gestured for the slave to stand up, he did so.

"Hold our your arms…" he commanded gently, the slaves golden eyes widened as he complied without question. With a quick flick of his wrist, the swordsman easily broke the chain of the slave's wrist shackles.

"Today begins your freedom," the boy announced proudly. The slave tilted his head in curiosity.

"STOP!! THEIF!! Thief!" more centuries yelled as an entire flock of them converged on the scene. The young boys eyes widened as he looked at the large group of men wanting to … well … kill him! Quickly he sheathed his sword and spun around, grabbing the delicate wrist of the slave with his non-bloodied hand, he made a break for it. The centuries were close on their heels, the slave's breathing was heavy but he had yet to make a sound not even a "peep". The young swordsman looked over his shoulder at him, as they ran through someone's house. With a loud CRASH pots and pans were knocked over and a few chickens about had heart attacks. Bursting out of the front door, the two knocked over a round, portly man. The swordsman stopped in his tracks, and to the slave's amazement he helped the man up with a quick nod of apology. Then the boy turned back towards the slave, again taking hold of his thin wrist, they continued running. They ran through another market area of this town, Galsbad, bumping into a few people, earning them a few curses. The young man looked over his shoulder again, this time, checking to see where the centuries were. They were still back there, not as close, but still there! Quickly ducking behind a caravan, then jutting around a corner they found themselves in a shadowed alley. Without thinking it through, the young man ran down the narrow path a perplexed ex-slave in tow. They continued running until they came face to face with a dead-end. The blue haired boy dropped the slave's wrist, leaning against the wall, his head lowered, panting from the running. With a heaving sigh, the boy whirled around leaning his back against the cool bricks of the shaded wall. He took a moment to really look at the boy he had just freed. He was lean, built like a ballet dancer, however he gave off an aura of great strength. His skin was as pale as white sakura petals and looked just as soft and flawless. He wore a dahfica[5], a common slave garment, but his was made of a terribly rich material, the rahdfa[6] was a deep emerald color that shone like satin. The sword's man finally looked up towards the slave's partially hidden face. The slave boy had a long graceful neck and attractive jaw line. He had full lips; they were slightly pink and looked soft. His entire face, like the rest of his body, was flawless. However, his ears were long and pointed, his hair was light, almost white, but shined with pale blue and purple highlights or in other words it was iridescent. The slave's face was so blank, almost as if he had no emotions at all. Finally the slave boy lifted his head, matching the gaze of his savior. The young sword's man was taken aback by what he saw in those eyes. Despite the state of his stone face, his eyes revealed some of the emotional torrent inside the boy's head. His eyes were golden in color; the pupils were like those of a cat. Long lashes framed those golden spheres. Adorning his forehead was a small symbol, it looked almost like a flower bud only it was a deep onyx color. With the sudden realization, the blue haired boy sucked in air sharply,

It's a DEMON! He thought. He relaxed again, he had never feared a demon before … of course this is the first time he has seen one so close, he had even TOUCHED him!! 0.0;;; The young swordsman shook his head, silently berating himself for getting so nervous. He then sighed and leaned against the wall again, he looked at the demon boy. To his surprise, the demon was starring at him. The swordsman smiled a genuine, beautiful smile at him. The tiniest of blushes rose on the demon's cheeks. It wasn't even noticeable to the other boy. The young swordsman put out his hand to the demon.

"Hello, My name is Ryo of fallstatte, ……uh …what is your name?" the blue haired boy asked. The demon's eyes widened slightly, then he looked down and away.

"Please tell me! I don't want to have to say 'Hey You' all the time, besides you deserve to be called by your name," then Ryo thought for a moment, Geeeeze, Ryo, maybe he doesn't have a name! "well, that is, if you have a name," he finished flushing at his own ignorance. The demon looked up at him again, and carefully mouthed something to him. Ryo leaned in closer,

"What was that!? I couldn't hear you … " Ryo asked, putting his hand to his ear. Again the demon mouthed something. Ryo's face became slightly frustrated.

"I am sorry, but you will have to speak up!" he said a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Man they must have trained him well, he doesn't make a sound … PIGS!!! Ryo thought self-righteously. The demon became slightly annoyed, though you could tell by looking at him. He bent down to the loose dirt of the ally-way street. And carefully began etching out letters with his delicate fingers. Ryo came up behind him, curious as to what he was doing. He peeked over his shoulder carefully reading the words out-loud as they were formed.

"M-MY N-NAAAMME I-IS OooooKiiiiii," he said, his face slightly puzzled. The slave boy looked up at him, noticing his confusion, the slave waved to get his attention. Ryo looked down as the demon gestured toward himself, and then to the last word in his message as his lips mouthed it, OKI… Oki … Oki. Ryo's eyes widened a bit then his whole face became distorted in compassion, and pity.

"Y-you can't speak … can you?" he asked softly, Oki's face grew solemn again as he slowly shook his head no.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't understand … Oki? Right?" he asked his voice still soft like spring clouds. Oki nodded, still sitting on the ground. That's when he noticed, and remembered Ryo's injuries. With slight hesitation Oki reached out and grabbed the bleeding hand. Ryo looked down slightly surprised, but not nearly as surprised as when Oki brought the injury to his lips. Ryo's eyes widened as Oki's pink tongue slowly traced along the gash. His cheeks now crimson.

"OKIiiiiiii, what are you dooooing?" Ryo asked nervous again. He watched carefully as Oki looked up mouthing something to him. He watched those blood stained lips, repeating in his head what he read.

"Healing." Ryo blushed some more, what a strange sensation, he thought, before he knew it Oki was done and when he inspected his hand, Ryo was shocked to find not a scratch, not even a scar. Oki got to his feet, looking at Ryo, at his savior … he went to say something, but before he got the chance a loud whistle disturbed the pleasant quiet of their little corner.

"STOP!! THEIF< HE'S IN HERE!!!" someone yelled towards the entrance of the winding alley-way. Ryo's eyes widened, as he looked for a way out, turning his back towards Oki, Ryo inspected the wall. It was just barely too tall for him to reach the top. Then suddenly he felt something run up his back, quickly he turned but nothing was there… and Oki was gone!!!

To be continued!!!

NOTES: yay it is my baby!!!!! Hee, hee, hee!!!

[1] This style is oriental at first glance, his tunic looks like a men's haori or a yutaka without sleeves!

[2] this article of clothing is basically only sleeves, covering the shoulder blades on the back, with a clasp in the front and comes down to the hands like fingerless gloves! *_* very dreamy looking in my opinion! I completely made this word up ^_^;;;;

[3] BIND: a preparation of attack, which carries the foe's blade diagonally across from a high to a low line, or vice versa.

[4] IN QUARTATA: Side step. In effect, you remove your opponent's target, while leaving your own point in line to score a stop hit.

[5] Another of my made up words, this garment is commonly worn by slaves and consists of, basically, a belt and (normally) an inexpensive (itchy) material wrapped around the hips and thighs, tucked into the belt (no worries I have pictures)

[6] The rahdfa (yet another thing I just made up) it is the wide piece of cloth that hangs from the belt of the dahfica in the front to ensure coverage of the slaves … ahem … privates ->.>-