Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Bleed Eternal ❯ Demons in the Darkness ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: SaintMe 
You are the church, I am the steeple, when we f*ck, we're all God's people.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy / Romance / Supernatural | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 05.04.2005 | Pages: 5 | Words: 6.5K | Visits: 1.1K | Status: Completed
You are the church, I am the steeple, when we f*ck, we're all God's people.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy / Romance / Supernatural | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 05.04.2005 | Pages: 5 | Words: 6.5K | Visits: 1.1K | Status: Completed
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything afilliated with Gundam Wing... Hell, I don't even own an action figure, or poster... I suck, big time.
A/N: Hey everyone!!! *waves all frantic-like* *gives everyone huggles* Wow... I haven't posted in SO long!! I blame the strain of real life. That and video games. Oh. And the Manpet. *nodnod*
Anywho, I hope ya'll like my newest story... I did a LOT of research for it, so I'm praying it'll all pan out properly...
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Chapter One:
Demons in the Darkness
There is a time, when the moon is bright and the beasts grow silent, when the wind does not speak and the very world falls into a stillness that no mortal man could ever explain. It is a moment were the balance of nature, good and evil, is drastically tilted, skewing what humans have come to know as reality.
It breeds darkness, fear, and utter terror.
It is a annual thing, something we have come to accept, and survive. Like most things happening to us, humans have the ability to make it through, to live on to see the next day. And that day, filled with sunshine and a new life, is more beautiful than any other of the year.
No one in my village is certain of when this all began. Even the Elders, their fathers, and their fathers before them could not tell the origion of such times. All they know is that we will be continually plauged by this evil, until the Beast is satisfied.
There is a forest not too far from our village, a dark place, full of wild growing trees and plants, untamed and cruel to the defensless who happen upon it. The animals living within are huge, strong, and without mercy. Some say even the most innocent of creatures, such as a feild mouse, or even a doe will go mad with rage and bloodlust if they even breathe in the air coming from that place. It is said to be the very doorway to Hell itself.
And this is where the root of our curse resides.
According to our Elders, in the tale handed down to them from generations before, living within that forest is a great Monster, a Demon of the deepest darkness and hatred. Where it came from, no one is sure; all we know is that it has remained there for centuries, feeding off the people of our village like a disease infested parasite.
Every year, two days after Litha[1], the person who was chosen by He is to be bathed in scented waters, clothed in white robes, and meant to walk alone into the forest for sacrifice.
Of course, no one can be sure if those chosen even make it to the Beast's lair. After all, as I've said, the animals living within that hateful place are vicious and cruel. And the bodies we find months later, torn to pieces as though they had been attacked by a pack of rabid wolves, certainly support such a theory. But every year when we find them, and the speculation arises, the Elders deny it to be true.
"No," they say, "It was not the animals. They serve him as generals and soilders in his army of Evil. Nay... This merely means our child was not the one. Not the soul He desires."
But, of course, some of us cannot bring ourselves to believe, or even understand this. No one living now has ever seen the Beast, and no stories of him survive in our day. We were not born during the time of this curse's creation, and we may die before the spell is broken. All we know, all we were told, is that He is searching for the perfect soul, some special spirit that he desires. For what, we are not sure, and those whom He chooses that do not make the cut suffer fates far worse than death.
You may ask, why have we not denied the Beast His sacrifice? The answer is simple... because we dare not. A few of those older than myself, years and years ago, had asked the Elders this once themselves. The tale they told seemed even more terrible than the Beast, Himself.
Ages ago, at least three generations before the speaker's own birth, those of the village had withheld the Chosen from the Beast. Those in the know spoke of it to no one, not even the family of the poor wretch who was picked that year. On the day after the chosen time, a violent plague broke out in our village. Many people died, others suffered to madness, clawing at their burning, itching flesh, until they themselves tore the infected portions away. Only the disease did not cease from these violent acts; instead, it spread more quickly, feeding off of the flowing blood and body heat of its self-mutilated victims. All this happened in the mere span of a day, and in his desperation, the one who had been Chosen stole away to the forest, despite the anger of the Elders at the time. Immediately, the suffering ceased, and not a year has again passed where our village did not hand over the Chosen at the appointed time.
It is no existance at all for us. To live in daily fear, staring off down the feilds to that dark place where the mists never seem to seperate, and the place has an aura of its own. When the bright green of the grass beneath our feet turns to a darker, richer shade, and the full heat of summer comes, and we're forced to wait and see. See who He will choose, this year.
Those who are marked know it the instant it happens. And those who are marked are immediatly known by the Elders. I'm not sure how it is they know, but they simply do, and none had ever protested the Chosen going to their fate, since the time before.
I had the oppurtinity, when I was but eight years old, to speak with one of the Chosen, after she had learned that she was the one.
This person was my own mother.
I remember that I cried pitifully that day, when she sat me and my father down in our little thatch house and gave us the news. My father was angry, and even shattered our small, clay washing bowl in the corner as he raved. My mother watched him patiently, not saying a word, but I could see the saddness in her eyes, and knew my sire felt the same saddness. His anger was the only way he knew how to release such a pain.
I turned to my Mother, and she gathered me up into her arms, rocking me on her lap as though I were a baby. My young, eight-year-old-boy pride protested such actions, but I somehow stuffed that down and away, realizing that this was probably the last chance I had to be held by her. I closed my eyes, taking in her scent and heat, imprinting all that she was to memory. I can remember still that she smelled of fresh wild flowers, and dried thyme. It was a beautiful smell.
"Mother," I asked through my tears, "Why must you go? Why did He choose you?"
She was quite for a time, petting my wild hair down, simply breathing and holding on to me. I finally began to squirm, catching a hold of her eyes, seeing the reservation and acceptance in them. It broke my heart, because I knew my mother had already agreed to her fate.
"Heero, my son," she cupped my cheek, whiping away my falling tears, "I knew my time had come early this morning, before you had even awoken. I... I saw His eyes, reflected in the water of the brook. And did you know, he looked terribly sad? I think he has chosen me, because he knows that there is kindness in my heart. I think he needs me."
"But why, Mother? Why take you away? You are a good person! Why not take Ranulf Josephian, from down the lane? He is cruel, and black hearted, and-"
My Mother clutched me tightly to her breast, shivering as she spoke, "Never say such things, Heero! Never, ever wish such a thing upon another, even if you mean to spare me. Promise me, Heero. Never."
I wailed, nodding my head, promising her over and over again in voice and in my heart. To me, this was my Mother's last wish, and I meant to fullfill it.
My Father and I were given the privilage of bathing, and clothing my Mother for her walk to the woods. None of us spoke to each other during that time, nor did we when we walked her to the edge of our village. The rest of the townsfolk had come from their homes to watch her go, refusing to meet our eyes, to show us their pity.
She was like an appirition, a Fey creature, dressed all in flowing white, her brown hair whisping about her fair face in the early morning chill. The sun was rising, casting bars of glittering gold around her form. I couldn't think of a time when she had ever looked so beautiful. Before she reached the edge of the wood, she turned back to us once. Lifting her right hand in silent farewell, she smiled at me.
I began crying again, and breaking away from my Father's hold, I chased after her. I screamed to her, begged her not to go, but it was as though she had not heard me at all. She simply turned, and I screamed louder at her, my young voice echoing in high notes in the still air. I tripped on an upturned stone, and managed to lift my head the instant she took her final steps into the never-ending mists, and was gone forever from my sight. I wailed, even as my Father lifted me in his strong arms, and carried me back to the house.
Two months later, my Mother's body was found.
She was still dressed in her white robes, though you could no longer tell the color. They were stained red and brown, blood and dirt soaked into the fine fabric. All of her was ripped and torn, all but her face. Her face... I still tremble at the memory of it.
Her mouth was turned in a gentle smile. The same smile she would give to me when I had fallen and scraped my knees, or hit my head, or bruised myself from a too-rowdy tussel with my friends. The same smile that she gave to me, before she left me forever.
The villagers had not meant for me to see her. They had tried to hold me back, but I slipped through them easily. I only stood there for a moment, looking at her beautiful, smiling face, the rest of her mangled body only something in a blurry, side view. I could only see that face, that reassuring, warm smile, and soon it all turned to a watery wave, and I was gone.
I ran, fast and hard, to the forest. I collapsed at the edge of the mist, flinging a lose stone into the whiteness, screaming without words to the Beast hiding within the place. I demanded why, why He would do such a thing, to such a wonderful person as my Mother had been. I wanted to know, wanted Him to see the anguish He had brought on me. But, as my mother had asked of me, not so many days ago, I did not wish death upon Him.
No, there were worse things in this world than death. And the Beast never came to give me my answers, that day.
The years passed, and I watched as I grew, watched friends, families be torn apart in the same, silent ways as my own had. Tears were shed in quiet, dark places, private and away from prying eyes, from the arms of those who would give them pity. No one wanted that from anyone. They simply wanted to grieve in their own ways, without anyone else having to see it.
It was on the year of my eighteenth birthday, that I would have my chance at revenge.
My Father, much older now, not as strong as he was once, had set me to start doing one of the chores he could no longer do himself. One of them was going down to the stream, to gather hutches of water for the daily house duties. Without my Mother around for such things, it fell on me to wash the dishes and floors, and even the clothes when they grew too smelly from work and play. It was down there, kneeling on the damp bank, when I gained my Mark.
Just as my Mother had said, I saw a face in the water, very near to my own reflection. For all purposes, it simply looked as though there was someone standing behind me, just over my shoulder. I knew I had heard no one approach, but I turned to look anyhow. A shiver of fear started in my stomach when, as I had suspected, there was no one around. I turned back to the stream, my hands trembling around the thick wooden bucket, but the reflection was gone. Only my own was left behind, and the man I knew to be myself was staring up with a look of pure terror on his face.
I had been Chosen for this year's sacrifice. The Beast had picked me, out of all the others. But unlike my Mother, I had not gotten a good look at His face. All I could catch was the simple figure of a man-like shape, standing over my shoulder. There were no facial features, no emotions to be seen on him. My Mother had said He had looked sad, but that idea had been lost to me long ago. A Demon such as Him did not have the ability to feel remourse or saddness.
I stood, willing my body to cease it's trembling, when I heard footsteps coming up behind me, from down the narrow road.
"Heero."
It was the voice of one of the elders, shaking and fragile with age. The way he spoke was quiet, filled with regret and apology. He knew.
I bowed my head, staring down at the sparkles of morning sunlight on the moving water, "Yes sir. I will tell my Father immediately."
The Beast had only given me two days before Litha, to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for what was to come. To break the news to my Father was difficult for me, but he took it better than I had expected, and hoped against. I suppose, after losing his dear wife and several of his friends to the Monster would have that effect on him. He only looked at me, and rested a single hand on my shoulder. He did not speak to me at all as he stepped past my prone form, and walked out of our door. I honestly did not know what to expect, but I think somewhere in my heart I had dreamt that he would react in the same way he did when Mother was Chosen. I would have even taken anger directed toward me, blaim and temper, but he did not give me these.
He did not say one word to me, even after the celebrations of Litha had passed. I was left alone that morning of my sacrifice, alone in the commons room of our home. He did come to help me bathe or dress, as was his duty and privilage. I had to scrub my skin, all alone in my thoughts and fear.
I was not shocked in the least when, after I had made my way to the edge of the village, he was not there to see me off. I did not know whether to take his actions as a sign of love, or tormented denial. Either way, it did not matter. My journey was one I would have to take alone.
"Heero."
The voice was soft, timid and femenine. I turned from my silent staring at the forest, to see the young lady who had spoken to me. She was small for her age, height being a slight curse for her. The top of her head only reached my chest, but then, I suppose I was tall for a young man, regardless.
She offered me a reassuring smile, tucking strands of her long, brown hair behind her ears. Her name was Relena, a girl I had grown up with. Her family was the more prosperous in our village, her eldest uncle serving on the Council of Elders. Her eldest brother had been sacrificed to the Beast, three summers prior. Before this, for some time now, I had expected that I would one day marry this girl. No one had protested it, and had even looked forward to the day when I would propse to her; she the most, I think.
But now... Now that would never be, and as I looked down to her, the apprehension in my gut seemed to tenfold. I was giving up so much by leaving this place.
"Here." she said, her voice still quiet and shy as she held out her hands. Cradled gently in her palms was a small, cloth wrap, the dyed pattern of flowers and checks on it. It was a happy looking bundle, a little sunshine to my otherwise dark time to come.
"It... it's some cheese and bread. I thought you might need it."
She knew very well I would not need such things where I was going, but I could not fault her her kindness. It was probably the warmest gift anyone had given me, since the day I found out. I smiled at her, pushing away the stubborn hair from her cheeks, and leaned down to place a soft kiss on her forehead.
"Thank you, Relena. It is much appreciated."
The walk down across the feilds was a lonely one, taking longer than I had ever believed it could. I had gone this way many times before when I was younger, after my Mother had gone away from me. I would stand where she did that day, staring into the thick mist, and the trees beyond. Sometimes I would speak to her, tell her of the things happening in our village. It was foolish I suppose, but with the hope of a child like I was, I held onto the belief that she was truly still alive, or that her spirit wandered the paths of the wood. That she would come to listen to me, when I came to talk.
Other times I would simply stand there, glaring at the darkness, cursing the Beast as I had the day we found my Mother's body.
And now, I was standing there again, robed in the clothes of the Chosen, facing my destiny. I did not turn back to the village, to bid them all a final farewell. Relena would not be there; she had run back to her house after I accepted her gift of food. My Father was not there. I no longer had anyone to say goodbye to. All I had left was to step forward through the mist, and accept my cruel fate.
I took a deep breath, and let my eyes drop closed. My hands trembling by my sides, I forced my feet forward, and with a terrible chill, felt the dense whiteness envelope my body whole.
It is hard to explain what happened next, or even the time that elapsed before I left the mist. It felt like I was walking through a dream, as though I was making my way through a totally different plane of existance. My body felt like it was floating, weightless and without real substance. I was disoritented, and could not even tell if I was still walking forward, or if I had gotten off track and was heading down the treeline instead.
It could have been hours, days, or even seconds before I broke through the mist, and the warmth of the summer sun swept across my chilled face. My eyes opened, and I found myself deeply within the woods.
The place was beautiful, by any right. As I had told you before, it truly was the definition of wild. Great trees, thick and ancient towered up around me, their bases covered in thick, healthy moss and mushrooms. Ferns and other shrub growth blanketed the ground, insects, frogs and lizards darting around and through them, playing their games and enjoying the early morning heat. Thick, heavy vines and ivy clung to and hung from lower branches, wrapped around the tree trunks, weaving in and out between them. Flowers, purple, blue, red and pink were littered all about, clustered by upturned roots, seperated unevenly in the spaces between.
I stared at the scenery before me for a time, awed by the splendor of it all. It was amazing to me, the contrast between the reality, and the stories told to me since I was but a babe. In all the tales, this forest was dark and terrifying, haunted by Devils and Demons, the beasts within mad with rage and bloodlust. But what was presented to me now completely flipped my beliefs upside down and inside out. If anything, there was a natural, peaceful aura here, as though the very place itself had been forgotton by man, forgotton to prosper and become more beautiful over time.
It was a little while before I realized that, while the forrest was lovely, and besides the wild life, I was completely alone here.
Possibilities ran through my brain, the ideas that this did not make sense at all rattling the composure the peacefullness this place had brought to me. The Beast was not here to meet me, so what did this mean? Did he mean for me to search for him? It was impossible! I did not know my way around here, and would surely fall prey to the agressive animals. Or was that his plan all the time? Did he allow his vicious minions to do the dirty work for him, to rip me to shreds, and then he could feast on my corpse?
Or... maybe... there was no Beast at all. Maybe all those we had found dead outside the forest before hand really had been attacked by animals.
The thought gave me an instant of hope, but it was quickly destroyed as a sense of denial struck me. No... it was no such way. The Beast did exist. I had seen a glimpse of him four days prior to now, watching over my shoulder by the creek bed. He was real, and was waiting for me, somewhere within the wood.
I sighed, swallowing the hardened lump in my throat, and did the only thing I could, now. I went on, pushing away the vines and taller bushes, blazing an unbeaten trail, in which direction I could only guess. I had a feeling, though, that no matter where I went, I would eventually come upon Him, as I was meant to do. There was no escaping it, there was no running from it. I would find Him, or He would find me, when the time was correct.
I know now that the forest is a place of magic, a space excluded from regular time. I walked for what felt like only minutes, but the growling in my stomach and the fatigue in my body told me otherwise. I had to stop, eventually, sitting upon one of the giant, upturned roots, resting my back against a tree trunk. I silently thanked Relena once more as I opened her little bundle, and made quick work of the bread. I think I may have slept for a short time, because when I opened my eyes after what felt like a simple blinking of my lids, the light around me had grown a little dimmer, as though the sun had passed it Zenith, and it was well into the later hours of the afternoon. I sat straight, and blinked again, surprised.
Sitting between my spread knees, nibbling on a crumb of what I had left of my cheese, was a small grey squirrel. It was not startled by me in the least, apparently intent on his theivery. I sighed, and offered it a small smile. He was welcome to my food, if he wished it.
"You are lucky, little one." I said to him, and taking a silly chance, held out my hand. The squirrel stilled for a few scant seconds, then tilted his chin up to stare at me. When he moved no further, I continued forward with my arm, and surprising myself the most, he allowed me to stroke between his little ears with the tip of my finger.
I had never been so close to a wild squirrel before, so I did not know what to expect when I touched him. His fur, contrary to belief of sight, was course, stiff and more brittle than I would have thought. But it was warm, a comfort in a way. Reminding me that the place I was in was very real, and not just a dream.
I chuckled softly as, when I drew my hand back, the squirrel reached out for me, grasping my middle finger between his little paws, and began licking at my nail. He was cute.
"I imagine you've made quick work of most of my food, already. I don't know what else I could possibly give you."
He released me, and sat as tall as he could, resting on his hind quarters. What happened next I'm sure most people would consider me being nothing but foolish, looking for answers where there couldn't possibly be any. The squirrel was waving his paws at me, his long tail swishing back and forth like a prowling cat's. Then he turned in a quarter circle, and for all the world, looked like he was pointing somewhere.
I blinked at him, and he thrust one of his arms out more urgently, as though he was losing his meager patience with me. It even appeared as though he was giving me a withering look.
I laughed, and scratched his head again, "Alright, little one. If that is what you wish."
I had no reason not to follow his directions, nor did I have a reason to stay where I was. Daylight was wasting away, and I was no nearer my destination - wherever that might be. It seemed a harmless thing, to follow a squirrel's advice.
Surprising me, yet again, my little companion walked with me, though walk isn't quite the appropriate word when describing the way a squirrel moves. His strides were more fast paced hops, back and forth in a zig zagged line, occasionally halting to turn back at me with that same withering, impatient look on his face. As though I should be as fast and agile as him, moving with utter haste.
I smirked at him, and kept my steady pace, much to his annoyance.
Eventually I realized the changes and sounds around me. The trees and foliage were growing less dense, breaking up as it were, and the air had taken on a musical quality. The sound was soft, relaxing, and very tempting. I stopped to a complete halt, ignoring the irritated chatter of my guide, and cocked my ear so I could listen more clearly.
He was leading me toward running water. From the sounds of it, it was either a rapidly moving river, or a small fall. I could not guess at his reasons, but I decided not to question it. Perhaps it was simply because he knew that all creatures, humans and animals alike, needed water to survive.
After all, if he was smart enough to lead me here, then he must have been smart enough to realize that the bread and cheese Relena gave was not enough to sustain me. It was a silly idea - after all, how many squirrels are in the world that hold that capacity for logical thought? - but as I have said, what else could I do?
But the reasons that I had come up with for this little tour to the water were thrown to the wind as, when I stepped out from the cover of the trees, I saw his true motives for bringing me to this place. And If I thought I was confused, or shocked before, this new enlightenment blew it all away.
Indeed, the squirrel had brought me to a water source, a small set of falls, breaking the surface of an othewise still pool, which in turn fed a gurgling brook some tweny or thirty paces to the left. The place was as lovely as the forest it hid within, flat, slightly upraised stones surrounding the pool; large enough to sit and relax upon. More wild flowers were here, scattering about the small clearing, forming almost a natural path to the water. It was beautiful, the perfect spot to indulge in a picnic, or just a simple visit when one wanted some time alone.
But I wasn't alone, here.
I watched, stupified, as my furry guide hopped past me, between the brambles and flowers, some yellow and tan pollen clinging to his fur, and he situated himself on one of the sitting stones. He had taken up the company of another human being.
The man seemed to notice nothing, not his new companion, nor me, though I knew I was making no secret of my approach. A deaf mouse could have heard me coming. He was sitting a quarter turn away from me, so I could get a good view of most of his features and profile.
He was young, almost my age, perhaps a year or two my senior. He was dressed mostly in black, with the exception of the full bodied shirt he wore beneath a black and silver trimmed vest. His leggings were also black, a thick silver cord synched tight about his waste to keep them on his narrow hips. Black, glossy leather boots donned his feet, shining in the mild sunlight that happened to break through the trees. Resting comfortably next to him, still attatched to the belt, was a long cutlass, the kind worn normally by the King's Navy men, or by the pirates who frequented the waters surrounding the Kingdom. His skin was fair, far too fair for an ocean goer, smooth and pale with his youth. His form was not in the least bit threatening, long and lithe in figure; the only thing telling of his masculinity was the lack of femenine curving, and the bunching of musculature in his flanks as he shifted positions to skip small pebbles across the calmer parts of the pond. Adding to this strange, physical mystery of him, was the long, knotted rope of hair, dangling over his back and between his shoulder blades.
The mingling of the sexes features was confusing, but for some reason I got the impression that this was befitting of the man, in a way.
Regardless of my feelings toward his looks, my common sense was racing around in my mind, chasing tails and nipping at half found answers. Who was this man? Where did he come from? No one on our side of the forest knew anything of another city beyond. It was possible, of course, but as far as we were concerned, the forest went on for an eternity. So if he did come from a place past here, did he not know of the Beast crouched within? Was he completely foolish?
"Hey! You!"
The man did not seem startled as I called out to him. All he did was turn to face me, unconcern spreading across his face, as though I were merely an interuption or a bordum to him. This, however, did not deterr me in the least.
"What are you doing? Don't you know there's a terrible Monster living in these woods?" I strode up to him quickly, looking around more frantically than my feeling called for. I was trying to show concern and haste, just in case he did not speak the language, "You should probably go on to wherever it is you're headed. I'd hate for Him to catch you-"
I had lifted my arm, to point in a random direction, when his very hand clasped my wrist, and drew it toward his chest. When I looked down at him, I nearly took a step back.
His eyes, though beautiful with their little flecks of lavender, saphire and crueclen, were wide and filled with wonder. He gave off the look of a drowning man, gifted his first breath of air after an intimate connection with near-death.
"W-what are you-"
"It's you!"
I blinked, and took my hand back from his hold. The flesh felt warm, much too warm.
"What are you on about? You need to get out of here!"
He ignored me. Instead, he stood, and I had to gulp down the lump of shock. Despite his femenine appearence, he stood at least a good half hand above me. The distance between us was scant, but enough that he could give me a good, once over of his own.
"Look at you! You've grown so much! I could hardly recognize you!"
I blinked, several times, my body relaxing a little, "Excuse me, sir, but do I know you?"
My question had an effect on him, apparently, though what that effect was, I really couldn't be certain. His face had dropped it's exstatic expression, though the smile faded only a little. However, that smile no longer reached his eyes, and all I could see in them was a great saddness. That despair brought about a well of compassion in me, and I had to check myself in place to keep from reaching out to him.
He settled himself back on the stone he had occupied before, one arm resting casually on his knee, before he could speak. And even when he did, he would not meet my gaze, as though he were ashamed.
"I will not lie to you. I knew you were coming, today."
Ok, perhaps this wasn't so confusing, after all. He was a ranger, a tracker even. It would be natural then, that he'd know of my approach, of what I was doing here. Any good hunter knows the history and traditions of the villages they are near, so as to not insult the inhabitants, or even strike good bargains if there would be a festival of sorts celebrating something. Litha had only happened two days ago, and my village was bustling with outsiders, coming to feast and celebrate with us. Maybe he was there the whole time, and I had just not seen him between the hundreds of other strangers.
I had no time to ask my questions, or speak a word at all, because he continued almost immediately.
"I remember that morning, when you came to me. You were so small, then, so full of anger and pain."
I had nothing to say. I could only stare at him, a feeling a dread building in my gut.
"I've waited a long time, Heero." he finally brought his eyes up to my own, the feelings broiling in my belly frothing over, and I thought I would be sick, then and there, "Since the day she left you, I wanted to tell you how very sorry I was. You're Mother was a beautiful woman, and did not deserve her fate."
My lips parted, though I could not gather any sort of air into my lungs. My vision of him blurred, sour with tears, and I abruptly turned away.
Falling to my knees, I wretched, Relena's gifts of food emptying out onto the pretty flowers below me.
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[1] Litha - The Summer Solstace, often referred to as "Midsummer", falling in the month of June. It is the peak of fertility, used to celebrate love, health, purification, and dedication. Two days after Litha, which would be the 23rd, is the one day of the year where the energy used pirmarily for healing is at it's highest.
A/N: So? Yay? Nay? Eh... iffy? Lemme know guys!!
A/N: Hey everyone!!! *waves all frantic-like* *gives everyone huggles* Wow... I haven't posted in SO long!! I blame the strain of real life. That and video games. Oh. And the Manpet. *nodnod*
Anywho, I hope ya'll like my newest story... I did a LOT of research for it, so I'm praying it'll all pan out properly...
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Chapter One:
Demons in the Darkness
There is a time, when the moon is bright and the beasts grow silent, when the wind does not speak and the very world falls into a stillness that no mortal man could ever explain. It is a moment were the balance of nature, good and evil, is drastically tilted, skewing what humans have come to know as reality.
It breeds darkness, fear, and utter terror.
It is a annual thing, something we have come to accept, and survive. Like most things happening to us, humans have the ability to make it through, to live on to see the next day. And that day, filled with sunshine and a new life, is more beautiful than any other of the year.
No one in my village is certain of when this all began. Even the Elders, their fathers, and their fathers before them could not tell the origion of such times. All they know is that we will be continually plauged by this evil, until the Beast is satisfied.
There is a forest not too far from our village, a dark place, full of wild growing trees and plants, untamed and cruel to the defensless who happen upon it. The animals living within are huge, strong, and without mercy. Some say even the most innocent of creatures, such as a feild mouse, or even a doe will go mad with rage and bloodlust if they even breathe in the air coming from that place. It is said to be the very doorway to Hell itself.
And this is where the root of our curse resides.
According to our Elders, in the tale handed down to them from generations before, living within that forest is a great Monster, a Demon of the deepest darkness and hatred. Where it came from, no one is sure; all we know is that it has remained there for centuries, feeding off the people of our village like a disease infested parasite.
Every year, two days after Litha[1], the person who was chosen by He is to be bathed in scented waters, clothed in white robes, and meant to walk alone into the forest for sacrifice.
Of course, no one can be sure if those chosen even make it to the Beast's lair. After all, as I've said, the animals living within that hateful place are vicious and cruel. And the bodies we find months later, torn to pieces as though they had been attacked by a pack of rabid wolves, certainly support such a theory. But every year when we find them, and the speculation arises, the Elders deny it to be true.
"No," they say, "It was not the animals. They serve him as generals and soilders in his army of Evil. Nay... This merely means our child was not the one. Not the soul He desires."
But, of course, some of us cannot bring ourselves to believe, or even understand this. No one living now has ever seen the Beast, and no stories of him survive in our day. We were not born during the time of this curse's creation, and we may die before the spell is broken. All we know, all we were told, is that He is searching for the perfect soul, some special spirit that he desires. For what, we are not sure, and those whom He chooses that do not make the cut suffer fates far worse than death.
You may ask, why have we not denied the Beast His sacrifice? The answer is simple... because we dare not. A few of those older than myself, years and years ago, had asked the Elders this once themselves. The tale they told seemed even more terrible than the Beast, Himself.
Ages ago, at least three generations before the speaker's own birth, those of the village had withheld the Chosen from the Beast. Those in the know spoke of it to no one, not even the family of the poor wretch who was picked that year. On the day after the chosen time, a violent plague broke out in our village. Many people died, others suffered to madness, clawing at their burning, itching flesh, until they themselves tore the infected portions away. Only the disease did not cease from these violent acts; instead, it spread more quickly, feeding off of the flowing blood and body heat of its self-mutilated victims. All this happened in the mere span of a day, and in his desperation, the one who had been Chosen stole away to the forest, despite the anger of the Elders at the time. Immediately, the suffering ceased, and not a year has again passed where our village did not hand over the Chosen at the appointed time.
It is no existance at all for us. To live in daily fear, staring off down the feilds to that dark place where the mists never seem to seperate, and the place has an aura of its own. When the bright green of the grass beneath our feet turns to a darker, richer shade, and the full heat of summer comes, and we're forced to wait and see. See who He will choose, this year.
Those who are marked know it the instant it happens. And those who are marked are immediatly known by the Elders. I'm not sure how it is they know, but they simply do, and none had ever protested the Chosen going to their fate, since the time before.
I had the oppurtinity, when I was but eight years old, to speak with one of the Chosen, after she had learned that she was the one.
This person was my own mother.
I remember that I cried pitifully that day, when she sat me and my father down in our little thatch house and gave us the news. My father was angry, and even shattered our small, clay washing bowl in the corner as he raved. My mother watched him patiently, not saying a word, but I could see the saddness in her eyes, and knew my sire felt the same saddness. His anger was the only way he knew how to release such a pain.
I turned to my Mother, and she gathered me up into her arms, rocking me on her lap as though I were a baby. My young, eight-year-old-boy pride protested such actions, but I somehow stuffed that down and away, realizing that this was probably the last chance I had to be held by her. I closed my eyes, taking in her scent and heat, imprinting all that she was to memory. I can remember still that she smelled of fresh wild flowers, and dried thyme. It was a beautiful smell.
"Mother," I asked through my tears, "Why must you go? Why did He choose you?"
She was quite for a time, petting my wild hair down, simply breathing and holding on to me. I finally began to squirm, catching a hold of her eyes, seeing the reservation and acceptance in them. It broke my heart, because I knew my mother had already agreed to her fate.
"Heero, my son," she cupped my cheek, whiping away my falling tears, "I knew my time had come early this morning, before you had even awoken. I... I saw His eyes, reflected in the water of the brook. And did you know, he looked terribly sad? I think he has chosen me, because he knows that there is kindness in my heart. I think he needs me."
"But why, Mother? Why take you away? You are a good person! Why not take Ranulf Josephian, from down the lane? He is cruel, and black hearted, and-"
My Mother clutched me tightly to her breast, shivering as she spoke, "Never say such things, Heero! Never, ever wish such a thing upon another, even if you mean to spare me. Promise me, Heero. Never."
I wailed, nodding my head, promising her over and over again in voice and in my heart. To me, this was my Mother's last wish, and I meant to fullfill it.
My Father and I were given the privilage of bathing, and clothing my Mother for her walk to the woods. None of us spoke to each other during that time, nor did we when we walked her to the edge of our village. The rest of the townsfolk had come from their homes to watch her go, refusing to meet our eyes, to show us their pity.
She was like an appirition, a Fey creature, dressed all in flowing white, her brown hair whisping about her fair face in the early morning chill. The sun was rising, casting bars of glittering gold around her form. I couldn't think of a time when she had ever looked so beautiful. Before she reached the edge of the wood, she turned back to us once. Lifting her right hand in silent farewell, she smiled at me.
I began crying again, and breaking away from my Father's hold, I chased after her. I screamed to her, begged her not to go, but it was as though she had not heard me at all. She simply turned, and I screamed louder at her, my young voice echoing in high notes in the still air. I tripped on an upturned stone, and managed to lift my head the instant she took her final steps into the never-ending mists, and was gone forever from my sight. I wailed, even as my Father lifted me in his strong arms, and carried me back to the house.
Two months later, my Mother's body was found.
She was still dressed in her white robes, though you could no longer tell the color. They were stained red and brown, blood and dirt soaked into the fine fabric. All of her was ripped and torn, all but her face. Her face... I still tremble at the memory of it.
Her mouth was turned in a gentle smile. The same smile she would give to me when I had fallen and scraped my knees, or hit my head, or bruised myself from a too-rowdy tussel with my friends. The same smile that she gave to me, before she left me forever.
The villagers had not meant for me to see her. They had tried to hold me back, but I slipped through them easily. I only stood there for a moment, looking at her beautiful, smiling face, the rest of her mangled body only something in a blurry, side view. I could only see that face, that reassuring, warm smile, and soon it all turned to a watery wave, and I was gone.
I ran, fast and hard, to the forest. I collapsed at the edge of the mist, flinging a lose stone into the whiteness, screaming without words to the Beast hiding within the place. I demanded why, why He would do such a thing, to such a wonderful person as my Mother had been. I wanted to know, wanted Him to see the anguish He had brought on me. But, as my mother had asked of me, not so many days ago, I did not wish death upon Him.
No, there were worse things in this world than death. And the Beast never came to give me my answers, that day.
The years passed, and I watched as I grew, watched friends, families be torn apart in the same, silent ways as my own had. Tears were shed in quiet, dark places, private and away from prying eyes, from the arms of those who would give them pity. No one wanted that from anyone. They simply wanted to grieve in their own ways, without anyone else having to see it.
It was on the year of my eighteenth birthday, that I would have my chance at revenge.
My Father, much older now, not as strong as he was once, had set me to start doing one of the chores he could no longer do himself. One of them was going down to the stream, to gather hutches of water for the daily house duties. Without my Mother around for such things, it fell on me to wash the dishes and floors, and even the clothes when they grew too smelly from work and play. It was down there, kneeling on the damp bank, when I gained my Mark.
Just as my Mother had said, I saw a face in the water, very near to my own reflection. For all purposes, it simply looked as though there was someone standing behind me, just over my shoulder. I knew I had heard no one approach, but I turned to look anyhow. A shiver of fear started in my stomach when, as I had suspected, there was no one around. I turned back to the stream, my hands trembling around the thick wooden bucket, but the reflection was gone. Only my own was left behind, and the man I knew to be myself was staring up with a look of pure terror on his face.
I had been Chosen for this year's sacrifice. The Beast had picked me, out of all the others. But unlike my Mother, I had not gotten a good look at His face. All I could catch was the simple figure of a man-like shape, standing over my shoulder. There were no facial features, no emotions to be seen on him. My Mother had said He had looked sad, but that idea had been lost to me long ago. A Demon such as Him did not have the ability to feel remourse or saddness.
I stood, willing my body to cease it's trembling, when I heard footsteps coming up behind me, from down the narrow road.
"Heero."
It was the voice of one of the elders, shaking and fragile with age. The way he spoke was quiet, filled with regret and apology. He knew.
I bowed my head, staring down at the sparkles of morning sunlight on the moving water, "Yes sir. I will tell my Father immediately."
The Beast had only given me two days before Litha, to prepare myself mentally and emotionally for what was to come. To break the news to my Father was difficult for me, but he took it better than I had expected, and hoped against. I suppose, after losing his dear wife and several of his friends to the Monster would have that effect on him. He only looked at me, and rested a single hand on my shoulder. He did not speak to me at all as he stepped past my prone form, and walked out of our door. I honestly did not know what to expect, but I think somewhere in my heart I had dreamt that he would react in the same way he did when Mother was Chosen. I would have even taken anger directed toward me, blaim and temper, but he did not give me these.
He did not say one word to me, even after the celebrations of Litha had passed. I was left alone that morning of my sacrifice, alone in the commons room of our home. He did come to help me bathe or dress, as was his duty and privilage. I had to scrub my skin, all alone in my thoughts and fear.
I was not shocked in the least when, after I had made my way to the edge of the village, he was not there to see me off. I did not know whether to take his actions as a sign of love, or tormented denial. Either way, it did not matter. My journey was one I would have to take alone.
"Heero."
The voice was soft, timid and femenine. I turned from my silent staring at the forest, to see the young lady who had spoken to me. She was small for her age, height being a slight curse for her. The top of her head only reached my chest, but then, I suppose I was tall for a young man, regardless.
She offered me a reassuring smile, tucking strands of her long, brown hair behind her ears. Her name was Relena, a girl I had grown up with. Her family was the more prosperous in our village, her eldest uncle serving on the Council of Elders. Her eldest brother had been sacrificed to the Beast, three summers prior. Before this, for some time now, I had expected that I would one day marry this girl. No one had protested it, and had even looked forward to the day when I would propse to her; she the most, I think.
But now... Now that would never be, and as I looked down to her, the apprehension in my gut seemed to tenfold. I was giving up so much by leaving this place.
"Here." she said, her voice still quiet and shy as she held out her hands. Cradled gently in her palms was a small, cloth wrap, the dyed pattern of flowers and checks on it. It was a happy looking bundle, a little sunshine to my otherwise dark time to come.
"It... it's some cheese and bread. I thought you might need it."
She knew very well I would not need such things where I was going, but I could not fault her her kindness. It was probably the warmest gift anyone had given me, since the day I found out. I smiled at her, pushing away the stubborn hair from her cheeks, and leaned down to place a soft kiss on her forehead.
"Thank you, Relena. It is much appreciated."
The walk down across the feilds was a lonely one, taking longer than I had ever believed it could. I had gone this way many times before when I was younger, after my Mother had gone away from me. I would stand where she did that day, staring into the thick mist, and the trees beyond. Sometimes I would speak to her, tell her of the things happening in our village. It was foolish I suppose, but with the hope of a child like I was, I held onto the belief that she was truly still alive, or that her spirit wandered the paths of the wood. That she would come to listen to me, when I came to talk.
Other times I would simply stand there, glaring at the darkness, cursing the Beast as I had the day we found my Mother's body.
And now, I was standing there again, robed in the clothes of the Chosen, facing my destiny. I did not turn back to the village, to bid them all a final farewell. Relena would not be there; she had run back to her house after I accepted her gift of food. My Father was not there. I no longer had anyone to say goodbye to. All I had left was to step forward through the mist, and accept my cruel fate.
I took a deep breath, and let my eyes drop closed. My hands trembling by my sides, I forced my feet forward, and with a terrible chill, felt the dense whiteness envelope my body whole.
It is hard to explain what happened next, or even the time that elapsed before I left the mist. It felt like I was walking through a dream, as though I was making my way through a totally different plane of existance. My body felt like it was floating, weightless and without real substance. I was disoritented, and could not even tell if I was still walking forward, or if I had gotten off track and was heading down the treeline instead.
It could have been hours, days, or even seconds before I broke through the mist, and the warmth of the summer sun swept across my chilled face. My eyes opened, and I found myself deeply within the woods.
The place was beautiful, by any right. As I had told you before, it truly was the definition of wild. Great trees, thick and ancient towered up around me, their bases covered in thick, healthy moss and mushrooms. Ferns and other shrub growth blanketed the ground, insects, frogs and lizards darting around and through them, playing their games and enjoying the early morning heat. Thick, heavy vines and ivy clung to and hung from lower branches, wrapped around the tree trunks, weaving in and out between them. Flowers, purple, blue, red and pink were littered all about, clustered by upturned roots, seperated unevenly in the spaces between.
I stared at the scenery before me for a time, awed by the splendor of it all. It was amazing to me, the contrast between the reality, and the stories told to me since I was but a babe. In all the tales, this forest was dark and terrifying, haunted by Devils and Demons, the beasts within mad with rage and bloodlust. But what was presented to me now completely flipped my beliefs upside down and inside out. If anything, there was a natural, peaceful aura here, as though the very place itself had been forgotton by man, forgotton to prosper and become more beautiful over time.
It was a little while before I realized that, while the forrest was lovely, and besides the wild life, I was completely alone here.
Possibilities ran through my brain, the ideas that this did not make sense at all rattling the composure the peacefullness this place had brought to me. The Beast was not here to meet me, so what did this mean? Did he mean for me to search for him? It was impossible! I did not know my way around here, and would surely fall prey to the agressive animals. Or was that his plan all the time? Did he allow his vicious minions to do the dirty work for him, to rip me to shreds, and then he could feast on my corpse?
Or... maybe... there was no Beast at all. Maybe all those we had found dead outside the forest before hand really had been attacked by animals.
The thought gave me an instant of hope, but it was quickly destroyed as a sense of denial struck me. No... it was no such way. The Beast did exist. I had seen a glimpse of him four days prior to now, watching over my shoulder by the creek bed. He was real, and was waiting for me, somewhere within the wood.
I sighed, swallowing the hardened lump in my throat, and did the only thing I could, now. I went on, pushing away the vines and taller bushes, blazing an unbeaten trail, in which direction I could only guess. I had a feeling, though, that no matter where I went, I would eventually come upon Him, as I was meant to do. There was no escaping it, there was no running from it. I would find Him, or He would find me, when the time was correct.
I know now that the forest is a place of magic, a space excluded from regular time. I walked for what felt like only minutes, but the growling in my stomach and the fatigue in my body told me otherwise. I had to stop, eventually, sitting upon one of the giant, upturned roots, resting my back against a tree trunk. I silently thanked Relena once more as I opened her little bundle, and made quick work of the bread. I think I may have slept for a short time, because when I opened my eyes after what felt like a simple blinking of my lids, the light around me had grown a little dimmer, as though the sun had passed it Zenith, and it was well into the later hours of the afternoon. I sat straight, and blinked again, surprised.
Sitting between my spread knees, nibbling on a crumb of what I had left of my cheese, was a small grey squirrel. It was not startled by me in the least, apparently intent on his theivery. I sighed, and offered it a small smile. He was welcome to my food, if he wished it.
"You are lucky, little one." I said to him, and taking a silly chance, held out my hand. The squirrel stilled for a few scant seconds, then tilted his chin up to stare at me. When he moved no further, I continued forward with my arm, and surprising myself the most, he allowed me to stroke between his little ears with the tip of my finger.
I had never been so close to a wild squirrel before, so I did not know what to expect when I touched him. His fur, contrary to belief of sight, was course, stiff and more brittle than I would have thought. But it was warm, a comfort in a way. Reminding me that the place I was in was very real, and not just a dream.
I chuckled softly as, when I drew my hand back, the squirrel reached out for me, grasping my middle finger between his little paws, and began licking at my nail. He was cute.
"I imagine you've made quick work of most of my food, already. I don't know what else I could possibly give you."
He released me, and sat as tall as he could, resting on his hind quarters. What happened next I'm sure most people would consider me being nothing but foolish, looking for answers where there couldn't possibly be any. The squirrel was waving his paws at me, his long tail swishing back and forth like a prowling cat's. Then he turned in a quarter circle, and for all the world, looked like he was pointing somewhere.
I blinked at him, and he thrust one of his arms out more urgently, as though he was losing his meager patience with me. It even appeared as though he was giving me a withering look.
I laughed, and scratched his head again, "Alright, little one. If that is what you wish."
I had no reason not to follow his directions, nor did I have a reason to stay where I was. Daylight was wasting away, and I was no nearer my destination - wherever that might be. It seemed a harmless thing, to follow a squirrel's advice.
Surprising me, yet again, my little companion walked with me, though walk isn't quite the appropriate word when describing the way a squirrel moves. His strides were more fast paced hops, back and forth in a zig zagged line, occasionally halting to turn back at me with that same withering, impatient look on his face. As though I should be as fast and agile as him, moving with utter haste.
I smirked at him, and kept my steady pace, much to his annoyance.
Eventually I realized the changes and sounds around me. The trees and foliage were growing less dense, breaking up as it were, and the air had taken on a musical quality. The sound was soft, relaxing, and very tempting. I stopped to a complete halt, ignoring the irritated chatter of my guide, and cocked my ear so I could listen more clearly.
He was leading me toward running water. From the sounds of it, it was either a rapidly moving river, or a small fall. I could not guess at his reasons, but I decided not to question it. Perhaps it was simply because he knew that all creatures, humans and animals alike, needed water to survive.
After all, if he was smart enough to lead me here, then he must have been smart enough to realize that the bread and cheese Relena gave was not enough to sustain me. It was a silly idea - after all, how many squirrels are in the world that hold that capacity for logical thought? - but as I have said, what else could I do?
But the reasons that I had come up with for this little tour to the water were thrown to the wind as, when I stepped out from the cover of the trees, I saw his true motives for bringing me to this place. And If I thought I was confused, or shocked before, this new enlightenment blew it all away.
Indeed, the squirrel had brought me to a water source, a small set of falls, breaking the surface of an othewise still pool, which in turn fed a gurgling brook some tweny or thirty paces to the left. The place was as lovely as the forest it hid within, flat, slightly upraised stones surrounding the pool; large enough to sit and relax upon. More wild flowers were here, scattering about the small clearing, forming almost a natural path to the water. It was beautiful, the perfect spot to indulge in a picnic, or just a simple visit when one wanted some time alone.
But I wasn't alone, here.
I watched, stupified, as my furry guide hopped past me, between the brambles and flowers, some yellow and tan pollen clinging to his fur, and he situated himself on one of the sitting stones. He had taken up the company of another human being.
The man seemed to notice nothing, not his new companion, nor me, though I knew I was making no secret of my approach. A deaf mouse could have heard me coming. He was sitting a quarter turn away from me, so I could get a good view of most of his features and profile.
He was young, almost my age, perhaps a year or two my senior. He was dressed mostly in black, with the exception of the full bodied shirt he wore beneath a black and silver trimmed vest. His leggings were also black, a thick silver cord synched tight about his waste to keep them on his narrow hips. Black, glossy leather boots donned his feet, shining in the mild sunlight that happened to break through the trees. Resting comfortably next to him, still attatched to the belt, was a long cutlass, the kind worn normally by the King's Navy men, or by the pirates who frequented the waters surrounding the Kingdom. His skin was fair, far too fair for an ocean goer, smooth and pale with his youth. His form was not in the least bit threatening, long and lithe in figure; the only thing telling of his masculinity was the lack of femenine curving, and the bunching of musculature in his flanks as he shifted positions to skip small pebbles across the calmer parts of the pond. Adding to this strange, physical mystery of him, was the long, knotted rope of hair, dangling over his back and between his shoulder blades.
The mingling of the sexes features was confusing, but for some reason I got the impression that this was befitting of the man, in a way.
Regardless of my feelings toward his looks, my common sense was racing around in my mind, chasing tails and nipping at half found answers. Who was this man? Where did he come from? No one on our side of the forest knew anything of another city beyond. It was possible, of course, but as far as we were concerned, the forest went on for an eternity. So if he did come from a place past here, did he not know of the Beast crouched within? Was he completely foolish?
"Hey! You!"
The man did not seem startled as I called out to him. All he did was turn to face me, unconcern spreading across his face, as though I were merely an interuption or a bordum to him. This, however, did not deterr me in the least.
"What are you doing? Don't you know there's a terrible Monster living in these woods?" I strode up to him quickly, looking around more frantically than my feeling called for. I was trying to show concern and haste, just in case he did not speak the language, "You should probably go on to wherever it is you're headed. I'd hate for Him to catch you-"
I had lifted my arm, to point in a random direction, when his very hand clasped my wrist, and drew it toward his chest. When I looked down at him, I nearly took a step back.
His eyes, though beautiful with their little flecks of lavender, saphire and crueclen, were wide and filled with wonder. He gave off the look of a drowning man, gifted his first breath of air after an intimate connection with near-death.
"W-what are you-"
"It's you!"
I blinked, and took my hand back from his hold. The flesh felt warm, much too warm.
"What are you on about? You need to get out of here!"
He ignored me. Instead, he stood, and I had to gulp down the lump of shock. Despite his femenine appearence, he stood at least a good half hand above me. The distance between us was scant, but enough that he could give me a good, once over of his own.
"Look at you! You've grown so much! I could hardly recognize you!"
I blinked, several times, my body relaxing a little, "Excuse me, sir, but do I know you?"
My question had an effect on him, apparently, though what that effect was, I really couldn't be certain. His face had dropped it's exstatic expression, though the smile faded only a little. However, that smile no longer reached his eyes, and all I could see in them was a great saddness. That despair brought about a well of compassion in me, and I had to check myself in place to keep from reaching out to him.
He settled himself back on the stone he had occupied before, one arm resting casually on his knee, before he could speak. And even when he did, he would not meet my gaze, as though he were ashamed.
"I will not lie to you. I knew you were coming, today."
Ok, perhaps this wasn't so confusing, after all. He was a ranger, a tracker even. It would be natural then, that he'd know of my approach, of what I was doing here. Any good hunter knows the history and traditions of the villages they are near, so as to not insult the inhabitants, or even strike good bargains if there would be a festival of sorts celebrating something. Litha had only happened two days ago, and my village was bustling with outsiders, coming to feast and celebrate with us. Maybe he was there the whole time, and I had just not seen him between the hundreds of other strangers.
I had no time to ask my questions, or speak a word at all, because he continued almost immediately.
"I remember that morning, when you came to me. You were so small, then, so full of anger and pain."
I had nothing to say. I could only stare at him, a feeling a dread building in my gut.
"I've waited a long time, Heero." he finally brought his eyes up to my own, the feelings broiling in my belly frothing over, and I thought I would be sick, then and there, "Since the day she left you, I wanted to tell you how very sorry I was. You're Mother was a beautiful woman, and did not deserve her fate."
My lips parted, though I could not gather any sort of air into my lungs. My vision of him blurred, sour with tears, and I abruptly turned away.
Falling to my knees, I wretched, Relena's gifts of food emptying out onto the pretty flowers below me.
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[1] Litha - The Summer Solstace, often referred to as "Midsummer", falling in the month of June. It is the peak of fertility, used to celebrate love, health, purification, and dedication. Two days after Litha, which would be the 23rd, is the one day of the year where the energy used pirmarily for healing is at it's highest.
A/N: So? Yay? Nay? Eh... iffy? Lemme know guys!!