Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ A Sacrifice to Beauty ❯ {Act I - Part I} ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

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Disclaimer: I don't own them. I'm not holding them hostage or anything. The characters involved are doing this of their own free will. I'm not making a profit, so suing me would be pointless. This story is not intended for those under the age of 18 or for those who have a problem with homo-erotic activity.

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Rain poured without, yet the forlorn looking stone building seemed almost welcoming in comparison. A slender figure crawled into the ancient structure weakly, his eyes half-lidded from the pain of his wounds. Crimson hair dripped water from under the cowl of the cloak the young person wore, all of his clothing soaked completely through from the unexpected storm.

Ran clawed his way further in, feeling how stiff he was getting. Surely he would die in this forsaken place. The cold weather outside had done nothing for his state of affairs, except to hide him from the eyes of those who hunted him. He'd lost his sword some leagues back and didn't dare think he would find one here, let alone lift it in his current condition.

There was a sound of water flowing deeper within, not more than a few feet away from the altar. Ran pulled himself to it and cupped his hands, greedily drinking in the cool liquid to soothe the dry fire in his throat. It was sweet and clean, not that he would have cared at this point. It could have been muddy brown for all that mattered now. He was dying and well, he would be doubly damned if he died thirsty.

His body tingled, making the weary man moan softly, and he rolled onto his back at the side of the shallow pool. All he wanted now was to be at home, a hundred leagues away, and make sure that his sister was well. Ran didn't want to be in this abandoned and forgotten temple to whatever forsaken god held claim here, bleeding to death, and possibly worse.

Violet eyes fell on a statue of Balinese, the old God of Beauty and Pleasure. The redhead smiled. His doom was complete. The fickle God never took pity on ugly men. Ran himself was scarred, from both his life as a mercenary and from plague when he was still a child. He was pock-marked and imperfect and so unworthy to even attempt to get the deity's attention.

He looked at the statue, his eyes dimming. What would it hurt to pray to the God now? It wasn't like he was going to live much longer anyway. "Balinese," he coughed out, his voice hoarse from his own pain, "I beg of you… let me live so that I may see my sister again… She has no one else… I will give you anything if you just let me live for her…"

Then, Ran's world went black and he slumped back against the font behind him.

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"Balinese, I beg of you… let me live so that I may see my sister again… She has no one else… I will give you anything if you just let me live for her…"

Sitting at the edge of a waterfall and surrounded by a delicately flowering garden, a golden head snapped up. Long legs uncurled from the bench of gold swirled marble as the figure rose from his seat, his head canting first to one side and then to another. One long arm swept over the surface of the water, the length of the graceful limb encased in a wire mesh of gold up to mid-bicep.

Emerald eyes studied the scene inside the old temple as reflected in the pool. The man who lay there might once have held some beauty, but not now. Still, he'd called to the deity that had, at one time, reigned supreme in that place. Would it really hurt to do the man a favor? He'd obviously drunk from the fountain that remained untainted nearby…

A snap of delicate fingers sped the effects of the magical water.

Each scar that corrupted the leathery face of the young man soothed away even as the skin itself took on a healthier complexion. Hands marred from sword work became smooth-skinned. Scarlet hair that had been treated poorly and cruelly cut now lengthened and repaired itself. All lines of tension and hardship faded away, leaving no trace of ever having been there.

The newly healed body was a wonder of mortal beauty. Now *that* was something the God could appreciate.

Manicured nails tapped on a stone underneath as the deity contemplated. It had been a long time, by the reckoning of humans, since he'd been called upon. He'd almost lost hope.

Balinese smiled. The mortal would be his, by his own offering, to do with as he saw fit. Therefore, this 'Ran' would be his new conduit to the world that had forgotten him. Also called the 'Ruby Demon', this 'Ran' would be the symbol of hope for both him and those who needed the Deity. He looked around the garden of his domain, displeased with the fact that the lack of faith had caused the rest of it to crumble to nothingness.

It was Balinese's will alone that kept the flowers alive and the water flowing. Such was his power, but that power was taxing his reserves. He considered things concerning this new supplicant. He would need something from him to keep his strength flowing. Every time the God saved his life, that would deplete the power still more. Ran would have to do *something* to increase Balinese's power base.

He smiled to himself again and turned from the scene, his scant robes flowing around him. What a wonderful opportunity!

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