Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Twilight Beginnings ❯ Prologue

Title: Twilight Beginnings

Rating: R (just to be safe)

Genre: Fantasy, language, almost death, lemon, bashing, violence, gore, cliffhangers (just in case)

Summary: In an attempt to relieve a creative slump, an aspiring artist finds his life dwindling before his eyes. However, fate has more in store than he has ever imagined.

Dedicated to: Rose Fury who provided the plot bunny and who has reviewed my work consistently. Oh, and who is trying to rule the world with her army of super hot hentai bishies.

 

A/N: Okay, umm…there was another prologue for this but…I got new inspiration for this fic and rewrote it. I hope you don't mind but seeing that I only received one review so far for the other, I'm thinking the other prologue was lacking somehow. Anyways, review and let me know how you like this new version. If you like the other better, I'll take this down and repost it.

 

Prologue:

 

No, no, no…the shadow here should be darker.

 

The sound of lead scratching against high quality art paper was the only sound coming from within the small apartment. The small four room space passing as a living complex looked barely lived in despite the figure huddled over a 16 by 24 black sketchbook. Several of the sketchbook's pages littered the Prussian blue carpet in crisp white sheets. Even in the mess, the room was clean.

 

Heero Yuy, aspiring artist, grunted and scrunched his face in frustrated concentration over his umpteenth attempt to put what was in his head on paper. His chiseled features were further hardened by his cobalt blue glare as he watched something close but not satisfactory from on the paper before him. Again, another page was ripped out. The quick motion was accompanied by the ripple of compact muscles underneath pale bronze skin. Strong hands paused to rake through unruly chocolate brown hair. The stubborn tresses fell back into their tussled state no sooner had those hands flopped exasperatedly back into the owner's lap.

 

“Think, Yuy” Heero mumbled to himself. He could see the picture in his head clearly but his hands as creatively inclined as they were; refused to cooperate. It wasn't anything new. It had been going on for three weeks now. He itched to draw but lack the inspiration to do so.

With a sigh, the young artist stood stretching slender muscular legs clad in faded jeans. He twisted and looked around his house. Everything was untouched and in their proper place. He hated it. Other artists kept things in total havoc getting inspiration from their own mess. He couldn't bring himself to do that. His tables shined in their spotless glory, not a speck of dirt adorned his carpet, not a speck of dust dared float from wherever dust came from the cling on his furniture. Everything was….perfect.

 

“I have to get out of here.” He announced to the perfection that was his home. He replaced the large sketchpad with a smaller 8 by 12. He paused momentarily to throw on a pair of his stark white sneakers loathing them for not have a single smudge on them. He straightened his finely pressed button-up loathing it for the perfect crease in the arms and collar. “Maybe somewhere to get down and dirty.” He thought aloud with the sudden urge to rebel even against himself.

 

With his new incentive, he left ignoring the brand new Escalade sitting on the curb with `WING00' written on the license plate.

 

He walked in strong strides ignoring the appraising looks he received from both male and female oglers. Nothing mattered other than his artwork, the class he was taking to further his art talents, and find a means for inspiration.

 

The city was loud around him. Automobiles roared down the street honking horns and leaving tire cries behind them. The people walking down the sidewalks pushed and brushed past each other totally set on their own objectives. Such was the lovely city of New York. It was nothing new. Just the same grey and clear of cement and glass with a tree `growing' in every other place. It was nothing new.

 

With a sigh, Heero continued his search of something that could and would catch his eyes and spark that creative flame that seemed to dim inside him. He continued to walk glimpsing at the surroundings he strolled through like a silent handsome shadow. He walked well past the city keeping to the side of roads when he came to him. His legs carried him faithfully over the unforgiving pavements of several roads. All the while, his mind searched for something different and unique, something that would compel him to sit and draw until his heart was content.

 

“Maybe I should consider moving to another state. Something in the country should do.” Heero stopped finally finding his feet and calf muscles sore. “It's going to be a long ways back.” He said with a sigh. As if to protest, his feet throbbed more sending their displeasure through the only media their owner seemed to pay attention to. “Alright, maybe I should get a ride.” I looked around finding himself on one of the exits leading away from the state of New York.

Beside him was a rail that cut the road off from the thick greenery that the Big Apple seemed to be deprived of. Without thinking, he climbed over the railing and set forth anew. The pain in his overworked joints lessened.

 

The vegetation around him was cool and crisp. Sunlight came in gold streams between the outstretched limbs of maple trees. The underbrush crawled with life, bugs, small mammals, and more.

 

Heero's eyes lit up at his finding. His hands twitched to find the innocent beauty. Finding a spot under a very old maple tree, he sat began to draw. He sketched the trees and shadows they cast, captured the small squirrel that darted overhead. This is what he was trying to capture all along. He slowly added the finishing images to the picture, small ethereal beings known as fey.

 

He sketched one with short light colored hair, maybe blonde when obtained colored pencils. He carefully filled in the young fey's angelic facial features. The dewy eyed being was seated on a thin tree branch only the size of a man's thumb if he were real. He wore a tunic made of a leaf tied off by the pine of a pine tree. His pants were white from piece of fabric found on the side of the road. His wings were almost transparent against his back with small designs in a slightly darker shade.

 

He drew a companion for the youth. A tall stoic looking fey dressed in darker clothing with wings just as transparent as his friend's but black and beautiful with markings the color of moonlight. His hair fell over one eye leaving the other untouched along with that side of his face. His face held Latin traits and a small smile upon his lips.

 

Lower and more to the right, another fey, a woman, danced over the small puddle of water still being held by a leaf still too stubborn to fall. She had slender legs, one pointed in a ballerina fashion as she danced over the water. Her wings were light along with her hair that fall in twirling strands around her petite frame. Her face, heart-shaped with wide eyes. She wore a dress made from leaves falling at mid thigh.

 

On the branch above her another female fey watched her smile happily down at her. This one's hair was short and almost tomboyish. Two clips fashioned from some type of material kept her dark tresses from overlapping her ears or falling into her large eyes. Her wings were dark.

 

Two more fey were added chasing each other through the air. One with a long braid trailing behind his lithe form. His wings, unlike the other fey's having almost transparent fairy-like wings, were more butterfly-like. They were dark and solid against the background with the same moonlight design on each. His impish face was contoured into a grin. His arm stretched out showing the play of muscle as he reached. He wore a pair of pants and a sleeveless tunic made of black fabric.

 

The fey before him was turned so that he was facing his pursuer while keeping out of reach. He too had a heart shaped face set in a rebellious glare. His hair was just past his jaw framing his face. His eyes were almond shaped and slightly tilted. He was built petite and wiry with various tribal markings on his body. His wings were the same butterfly-like fashion but with small spikes along the curve of his wing like thorns. The wings were dark with markings that differed from the others' completely. He wore only a pair of black pants with pieces of material missing along the thighs showing his skin.

 

Three more fey were placed closer to the ground. One had long hair that glowed white. He was tall and strong in stature. He wore a white tunic and pair of pants similar to the braided fey above him. His expression was wistful as he hovered over the ground on solid white wings.

 

Behind him was a younger boy with short light colored hair that sat atop his head in an unruly mop. His hands were clasped behind his back as he followed the other fey. His youthful expression was just as wistful. His wide eyes watching the other's back.

 

The last fey walked beside the both of them. His face held the sorrow for the both on his aristocratic face. His hair was sleeked back out of his face. He was broadly built compared to the rest of them and dressed in a tunic/pants combination made of lighter fabric. His wings were semi transparent and dark.

When Heero finally came out of his artistic stupor, he blinked down at his creation and smiled. Said smile was only reserved for his finished artwork when he felt the satisfaction of a job well done.

Now that he'd managed to get what was in his head on paper, he finally noticed that it was well past sunset. The small woods around him were dark and chilling. With a heavy sigh, he lifted himself from his seat on the ground. He groaned as his muscles protested the movement as they were forced to move.

 

“Definitely need a hot bath and a long night's sleep.” He mumbled. He walked tiredly back to his apartment sketchbook in hand. He threw his leg stiffly over the railing he'd used keeping as close to it as possible to avoid getting hit. His attempts were in vain when a swerving driver skidded into that exact same railing.

Heero watched in slow motion as the sparks lit the nighttime air as the car's metal met the rail's metal. The friction served to slow the momentum of the car but not enough that when crashed into the Japanese man's body it didn't send his body reeling back into the shadows of the woods he'd just emerged from.

 

The young artist's broken body hit the maple tree he'd been resting on with a crack leaving a dent in his already fractured skull. His legs lay at odd angles before him. Pain rocketed up and down his body as it fought to bring in ragged breath after ragged breath. He had enough time to think that he was at the wrong place at the wrong time before consciousness left him.

 

“Oh caro.” A small voice sound next to the dying man's body. A small being no bigger than the size of a grown man's thumb came from his hiding spot and stared at the racking body. Wide denim blue eyes stared up at the human.

 

“Hilde, nanjasorya?!” A male voice asked in the background. The small fey called Hilde craned her head. The strands of purple-black hair atop her head rustled about with the movement.

 

“Es humano.” She answered unconsciously straightening the dress made out of a leaf.

 

A lithe male fey came to hover at her side taking her gently by the elbow. His solid black wings with moonlight markings glimmered as they flapped keeping him suspended. “Estamos en peligro.” He growled. Hilde only shook her head sending her dark tresses in motion again.

 

“Watashi wa mourant.”

 

The other fey froze at that. His violet eyes stared in open awe at the wondrous creature. His chestnut braid swung lazily at his back as he cocked his head. Slowly, he floated close to the human's face feeling the slowly dying breaths it took. Hesitantly, he touched his hands to the human's skin finding it clammy and cold.

 

“No lo vas a dejar morir.”

 

“Ie,” Pink flashed in the darkness as the young male fey licked his lips nervously. His small hands began to glow against the human's skin until it spread through the towering body. When the circuit was finished the small being quivered with the exertion.

 

“Ya matte.”

 

“Ie.” The glow slowly grew brighter connecting the fey to the dying human until it became blinding. Hilde shielded her eyes from the brightness along with the animals that clung to the darkness. When the glow diminished, the fey rested against a fallen leaf with the human safely wrapped in his arms unbroken.

 

“Baka.” The female fey said affectionately. The other fey smiled tiredly before falling into a deep slumber.

 

 

 

TBC……

 

A/N: Okay, the fey language is a mix between Spanish, Japanese, French and German. A lot isn't it. That's why I'm only doing it the way I did it in this chapter for only the prologue. The rest of the story will be in English. I think this came out better than the original prologue I wrote. Review and I'll continue. This new prologue sort of made it easier for me to continue from.

 

 

(1) caro- Spanish for `dear' (adj.)

(2) nanjasorya- Japanese for `what is that?'

(3) es humano - Spanish for `it's a human'

(4) Estamos en peligro- Spanish for `We are in danger.'

(5) Watashi wa mourant- Japanese `He is a' ; French `dying person'

(6) no lo vas a dejar morir - Spanish for `You're not going to let it die'

(7) Ya matte - Stop

 

Translations have been fixed with the help of shampoo marea 2. Thank you for the help.