Kage Riku 8/13

Thanks goes out to all those who keep writing to me and telling me how they love the story. Thank you all. And this is dedicated to each and everyone who wrote me. Thanks again. But going on, I want to thank my friend for translating some things from the show for me. Thanks to my friend for translating some of series for me. . .

Notes:
<<speech in this denotes it ain’t in English>>
/threatening words/
_words with emphasis_
I AM SHOUTING
~~”I am repeating words in a flashback”~~
‘thoughts’
//flashback//

Special Note of thanks to Cheshire-san ([email protected]) for beta-ing and proofreading!!

Kage Riku
[The Shadowed Lands]

By: Kc-chan

Chapter 8/?

Ponderis de memoriasitus esse in ponderis de summa rerum. . .
Ponderis de ego summa rerum? Ille esse in ego amoris. <1>

~~~~~’~~@@~~’~~~~

//”You look distant today, Vrita.” A voice broke his concentration from his book. He was, until his commander interrupted his train of thought, reading from the scrolls and manuscripts from the new armies of Rome.

“Lost in my thoughts, sir.” Vrita replied, standing up and giving a slight bow to the Half-Sidhe towering above him. In truth, his thoughts were miles from his duties. He had been sent hours ago to read the ancient and newer scrolls to help plan some strategies against the invading daemons. . . he had been side tracked.

“Ahhh. . .” replied Belial, smiling at the boy. So amazing was this child. He was delighted to see Vrita handling his new position so well. It had only been a month since he had knighted and raised the boy to the title of being the Order of Virtues’ Knight. A high position in the Order. Belial’s smile grew as he remembered why he chose the boy.

Vrita was the last in the line of the Unseelie. . . a race that had disappeared from their reality now, leaving this poor excuse of a child in the wilderness. A changeling of sorts. . . oddly thin, long limbed, with all the grace of the dragon Sidhe his heritage bore. A quarter of Dragon Sidhe and a quarter Unseelie, gave him large power. Power that he would never learn.

It had been decided when their Queen, Aynia, ordered the child spared from death as she herself was on her own deathbed. Fionn, who would do anything for his wife, agreed to her wish and the child was not punished for his lineage. Such a weak child. Intelligent enough, that was no doubt. Brilliant for the mongrel blood he was. The child had earned his rank. Fighting and learning, following the lessons his people demanded from Knights. And oft philosophizing with his King, the great Fionn Mac Cumhal, in the ways of the Knighthood.

Belial held back his laughter as the memory arose of the time Mac Cumhal questioned the boy on his virtues of Knighthood. They had spent a good part of the afternoon debating what was suitable to be a Knight of his Majesty. Vrita quarrelling with his Majesty that his standards were too high, and only those of the Tuatha De Danann lineage would even attempt to try for Knighthood.

Mac Cumhal smiled and would always note that Vrita had done it and he was far removed from most of the Sidhe lines, why not others. . .

“Belial, sir?” The boy interrupted his thoughts, and Belial returned his attention to why he had come.

“Sorry, Vrita, my thoughts gained control for a moment. Her Majesty, Mai Ran, has requested a moment with you.” Belial finished with a smirk.

Vrita felt the blush rise in his cheeks. Mai Ran was his fianc� and also the heir to her father’s throne. He had adamantly tried to convince his King that he wasn’t suited for his only child and heir to the empire. But time had worn down the argument and he had agreed upon his Queen’s death a year ago. The woman who had saved his life so many years ago, living for years on her deathbed, finally settled their dispute and he and Mai Ran promised her they would wed, when they were of age. . .

“Ah. Then I should go meet with her. . . Thank you, sir.” And with Belial’s nod of dismissal he went to go to Mai Ran’s quarters.

His heels softly tapping the floor, echoed in the empty halls. His King was gone in battle again. He wished to serve his King and promised him he would keep watch over Mai Ran in his absence.

Walking swiftly through the long halls and corridors he finally reached his Princess’s wing. With an efficient knock he tapped his knuckles against the wooden door.

”Come in.” Her voice muffled through the door.

He opened it and walked into the dark room. “My Grace, you requested my presence?”

Mai Ran sighed. This was the man she was betrothed to. Pathetic creature, that should have joined his mongrel Unseelie people years ago. Saved only on the whims of her crazy mother. A mongrel child, half mortal and a quarter of real Sidhe and tainted in his other quarter. And she oft wanted to use that in her argument of why she could never marry Vrita to her father. But she had promised she would never mention it. And she could at least keep her mother’s wishes. . . for now.

She nodded to her dear advisor and friend, Fand, and the goddess walked out of the room. Giving her the privacy she desired with her betrothed. Mai Ran allowed a smirk to grace her lips for a fleeting moment as she caught the glare Vrita received from her friend.

The door closed and she looked over at Vrita. “I have a question to the nature of my father’s business, Vrita. Where were they going off to fight?” She was seething that her father did not bother to tell her anymore of the military plans, deeming it not suitable for a lady. Though he more than planned with that thing.

Vrita smiled and bowed to her slightly and walked towards her. “To Emain Macha to meet with the Royal Branch and the other Orders, my Grace.” He replied smoothly, thrilled Fand had let them spend time alone. At times he swore Mai Ran despised him, and Fand only made these thoughts more real to him with all her glares and insults. He didn’t need a goddess mad at him.

Mai Ran schooled her face to reflect nothing, but she was raging inside. Her father left her here while he meet with the noble families and the other Orders! She wanted to kill the brat husband to be. . . remove him from her sight. She had been cheated from seeing her crush yet again. If only the brat could have died in his battle against Lilith. . . she stopped. No, that would not have been good. For it was Vrita who brought the angel to Belfast. . . to her.

When the Orders first arrived after her great-grandfather had passed on, ending the Ulster Cycle and starting the Fenian Cycle in honour of her father. They came from the angels and warriors of mortal/ Sidhe half-breeds, like the Virtue’s leader Belial, and helped them from being destroyed by the daemon invasions.

“What are the plans being decided at the Royal Branch, betrothed? Has Connaught stopped their weak attempts to destroy us yet?” she demanded, her tone carrying her breeding.

Vrita held back his sigh, so much for his plans of have a friendly and lack conversation with the woman he loved. . . “Nothing to be concerned about, Princess. They are simply meeting to discuss future plans and attacks.”

“Against the daemons?” She demanded.

He lowered his eyes to meet her black orbs. “Your father told me that there was nothing for you to be concerned about, my Grace.

“I am making it my concern, Vrita.” Her tone clipped at him.

He valiantly drove his temper down; it was not good to raise your voice against the King’s daughter. That was his mantra when talking with her. He loved her. He knew that. He loved her more than life. She was his mainstay, his breathe. . . his everything! But sometimes she drove him to murder!! “Your father asked and entrusted me to keep that knowledge from you, my Grace. Forgive me, but I am sure the punishment would be worse from your father than anything you could conceive against me.”

Mai Ran’s black eyes darkened even more. “I command you as Princess of Ulster, tell me what is happening at this meeting!”

Vrita messaged his temples. . . ‘Gods. . . help me with this woman!’ He never had to deal with _this_ with his people. . . or what he barely remembered. . . He knew one name. . . one name and that was Fincastle Mill. . . and one day he would learn about it. . . He turned to her and replied calmly, “My Grace, forgive I have upset you. I meant no harm, but I am like everyone here under your father’s duty, not yours. You can ask him when he returns.”

She glared at him. Little, snobby brat. Acting above her. . . “When then, does my father return? Or does your duty prevent you from telling me that?”

He winced at her tone but smiled and thanked the Goddess for her timing, “Tonight at the latest, my Grace. Is that all?”

With a glare, he nodded and left. Sighing and breathing a sigh of relief as the door clicked closed.

“She deserves better than you, creature.” A harsh female voice berated him from the shadows.

He blinked and looked at those glowing eyes. “Thank you, Fand, for your insight. I am sure she does.”

Fand pulled herself from the wall and melted from the cool gray shadows. “Then why do you keep allowing her to be tied to a creature such as yourself? You are not worthy of her.”

Vrita glared at her. He was not beautiful, he knew that much. He was a mongrel. . . a mutt. He could handle that. But he did not like to be reminded of things beyond his control. “I do not question his Majesty, Fand. I suggest you not question him, either.”

Fand’s black eyes glared at him. “The people will never accept you, Sluagh. Your victories will never hide the fact you were saved by the insanity of some woman. Why my Queen thought to save you is unbelievable! Some little nothing! Not of us, but of _them_!”

Vrita’s eyes widened. ‘Of them? What does she mean. . .?’ His thoughts reflected back at her and she stopped suddenly. It was forbidden to tell him, for if he actually knew what he was capable of. . . They would be doomed. . .

~~~~’~~@@~~’~~~~

He slid down the inside of his door. He had too much swirling in his mind. . . He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, nor did anyone to his knowledge know what he had been “given.”

In his defeat of Lilith, she handed him a book and whispered a name in her dying breath to him. She had insisted that she be killed, luckily for him Exael sealed her astral essence and slayed the daemon whore. He could have never killed her with a mere Holy sword.

A blush of pink spread across his golden skin. Exael’s compliments were wonderful. . . The leader of the Virtue of Angels! The highest positioned leader had praised him. He knew it was wrong to dwell on praise but how could he not!! He instead insisted to return and tell of his battle.

Vrita insisted that it wasn’t necessary, but Exael persisted. His King was amazed, but it was really Exael who won the day. . . Vrita knew he would never possess that kind of power. . . but that wasn’t what he was worried about. He knew Exael didn’t see what Lilith handed him. . . He knew he should have thrown it away. . . burned that daemon’s book. . .

He pushed back against the door, and walked over to his dresser and pulled the mirror off the wall. He pulled the stone out of the wall and hesitated for a mere moment. . . sighing he pulled it out, placing the stone and mirror in their place.

He flopped onto his bed looking at the cover. Fingers running over the old spine. . . worn blacks. . . red and silver lettering. . . obviously an old but loved book. He sighed and rolled over onto his back. Again he was wondering. . . Why him? What could he possibly do with that old book? Didn’t she just think handing it over to him would be the way to loose it. . . or get it destroyed?

He turned his head to the side and looked at it. . . The Letters naming an unfamiliar term to him. . . He ran his eyes over the words again and again. . . Finally, he whispered the title, “Unseelie Court. . .”

A strange term. . . He knew her late Majesty, Aynia, was descended from the Seelie Court. His King was of the Sidhe. . . one of the last Daoine Maithe, said to be next to heaven during the fall between divine and daemon. Supposedly his Gentry was more Sidhe now. . .

He knew what the Seelie Court was. . . they were the ‘Blessed Court’. . . well according to what the Orders decreed.

But the Unseelie Court?

He turned to his side and opened the old book, the cover opening easily, almost suspending time. . . like he was opening the secrets to a treasure. A smile spread across his face. . . he knew he wasn’t supposed to think about his past. That was what he was always told. . . But he wanted to know what he was. It was obvious that he was pure or even half-Sidhe. . . he was a mongrel of the Si and he just wanted to know there were others like him. . .

Fincastle Mill. Maybe the book could tell him something about that word he always seemed to remember. . .

He flipped through the yellowed pages. . . scanning for any maps. . . city names. . . an illustration crossed his fingers and he stopped flipping and opened the book. . . Fincastle Mill. . . “It is called haunted by mortals and those of the Seelie Court. . .A meeting place of the Unseelie Court to celebrate and cause mischief. . .”

He paused. . . it existed. It was a place. . . Fincastle Mill was actually real. . . he grazed through the words looking for more information. . . some tales. . . anything.

“Elathan. . .” The word sparked a meek fire in the void of blackness that should have been his memories. . . a beautiful male. . . with golden hair pulled in a loose tail. . . His eyes narrowed, trying to recall more details. . . but the pressing curiosity of _what_ this Unseelie Court was. . . and why did it seem to be labeled as, well, evil. . .

“Reading again?” a bright voice asked from his door.

Vrita jumped and quickly turned around.

Exael smiled at the boy. “I knocked but received no answer. . . Belial mentioned you tended to blank out when reading. . . What’s the lucky manuscript tonight?”

Vrita blushed, to be caught off guard by someone he admired so much. . . he tried to form a coherent thought, “Ummm. . . forgive me, Sir. . . I was reading on a book I happened across in our libraries. . .”

Exael chuckled, a sound that sounded bright, rich and full of mystery. “History no doubt, knowing your King. Still. . .” he added with a smirk, “History isn’t horrid to read. . . One can learn so many things. . .”

Vrita nodded, eyes and mind focusing on his mentor of sorts. He admired this angel in every way plausible. Exael was the finest warrior and scholar. Everything every Holy Knight wished they could be. . . Supreme in so many skills from riding to swords to poetry.

Exael chuckled again and walked into the room and closed the door behind him. “So what has caught the Holy Knight’s attention tonight? New manuscripts from Rome. . . the ‘revolutionary’ documents of the radical monotheists. . .?”

Vrita bit the inside of his cheek. . . He couldn’t _tell_ his superior about what he was really reading so he half- lied. . . “History, sir, about the Sidhe.”

Exael’s eyes flashed an unknown emotion for a mere second then his smile widened. “Yes, Sidhe history is quite. . . entertaining. . .”

“Entertaining, sir?” Vrita repeated, slightly miffed at the idea of their history being classified as entertainment. . .

The angel sat on the window ledge over looking the countryside, lit up in the colours of the war’s sunset. “Her Grace, your fianc�, mentioned something to me. . . and on further investigation it seems they have neglected in their truthful telling of history. . .”

Vrita’s eyes brightened to their normal charcoal gray. Something Exael found amusing. . . not like the empty eyes of the Sidhe of the Seelie Court, whose eyes were nothing but mirrors. . . no. . .This child’s eyes were that of his heritage. . .

After a pause, he smiled more. Oh, the gods were too sweet in handling his ‘master’s’ affairs. . . Sammael was correct as usual. . . This child was a godsend. . . His ‘master’ had heard tales of a survivor of the Unseelie clans. . . and an Unseelie was a powerful tool to have. . . an Unseelie with powers of a dragon Sidhe as well? That was rare and a treasure from the gods. . .

“Ever heard of the Unseelie Court, child?” Exael asked, calmly, schooled features watching for the boy’s reaction.

He was surprised at the curiosity that came through. “No, sir. . .” Vrita responded.

And the hesitation was rather endearing. . . he could see why Mai Ran found this simple. . .
“The Unseelie Court, like the Seelie Court, has never actually been seen by any mortals. . . Actually many of the Seelie have rarely _seen_ the Unseelie. Any attempts by humans to describe them or paint them turn out as a massive dark cloud which rides upon the wind.” Caught the boy’s imagination, hook line and sinker. . . “They are thoroughly evil. . .”
There was a flicker of shame and hatred in those eyes, changing them to black. Exael continued to entrance the child, “The term Unseelie is most often said to mean ‘unblessed’. But, I think the Seelie see them in terms best described in this context as meaning, ‘damned.’ Some Scottish legends say they were all once members of the Seelie Court who fell from grace. . . Vrita.”
Exael looked out the window. At once the Unseelie Court or better known to his kind as the ‘Hosts’. What that child was. . . a Sluagh. His eyes seemed lost in memories as he continued to weave his tales, “The Court travels on the night winds from where their unnerving cackles and howls can be heard. They have no method of reproduction, so they enslave mortals whom they think would never be missed and carry them along to become one of them.” He paused and looked into the boy’s eyes. “Or take on human consorts. . . even if the child is only a slightest bit of The Host, that is a lot of power. . . It was rare for a child of theirs to even survive more than a few years. . .” <2>

Silence hung in the air, heavy with an ancient feel. Vrita almost didn’t want to breath, in fear he would loose this feeling forever. Did Exael just give him an insight to his past?

Exael suddenly stood and stretched. “Well, enough stories and history for tonight.” He waved his hand and the candles along the bedrooms stonewall danced to life. “Good night, Vrita. . . Happy reading.”

“Good night, sir. . .” Vrita dumbly replied, still entranced with the events that had unfolded. . .

“Goodnight, Vrita of the Sluagh. . .” Exael whispered as he shut the door. He knew the boy had heard his words. . . little seeds in that child’s mind. . . And maybe he to use the child against Sammael. . . That was a definitely cunning thought. . .

“You look pleased with yourself, Sir Exael of the Angels.” A sweet voice with the undertone of hell said.

“Good evening, your Grace.” He bowed, kissing her hand. . .

Mai Ran smiled and chuckled. “Visiting my burden?”

Exael laughed lightly at that. “He may be simple and na�ve, Mai Ran, but he is someone not to be trifled with on the battle field. Your betrothed is a fine soldier. One of our finest, I would say. . .”

She threw a venomous glare up at him. “Are you suggesting that I should willingly marry that. . . that. . . thing?”

With another chuckle he pulled her down the hall, to make extra sure Vrita would not overhear their conversation. . . “He may be a mongrel but he has such potential. . . such amazing potential. . .”

“Hn!” she scoffed. “I would rather marry a pig than that cur! I wish my father would heed my wishes and let me marry you, Exael!”

Exael pressed his lips to hers to silence them. Drawing back he ran his thumb across those blood red lips, gazing into those black mirrors, so black and untouchable. . . “We will be together, my dear. . . and we will get you the throne and the power you deserve. . .“

She nuzzled his palm against her cheek, almost purring. Peering into those radiant Prussian blue eyes. “My father will not reign for much longer. . . I will give him the warrior’s death he deserves. . . both of them. . . so weak! Our kingdom could have been so much more by now!”

“Shhhhh. . .Let me take your mind to other matters tonight, my beloved. . .” Exael whispered, claiming those plump lips again.

~~~~~’~~@@~~’~~~~~~

Vrita blinked. . . Exael’s last words were so faintly whispered. What had the angel called him? Slooga? Slauga? He flipped through the pages now more determined than ever for some answers. . . He wasn’t, however, prepared for the book’s answer. . .

“The most formidable of the Sidhe are the Sluagh. The Host or commonly called among others as the Unforgiven Dead. Some historians consider the Sluagh like fallen angels. These are the ones of the earth who take joy in slaying and maiming at the bidding of their masters. Creatures of sex and sadism. . .” the book slipped off his lap as he went into shock. . .

He was damned for all times through no fault of his own. . . He was not worthy of Mai Ran. . . not now. . . not ever. . . //

~~~~’~~@@~~’~~~~

Wufei shook his head. Sally had answered all his calls to Meiren. His love for the woman had never grown. Fand still carried some grudge against him. . . Probably because he did finally marry her ‘precious princess’ or some nonsense like that!

He sighed and cleared his head. He was letting those thoughts of old day’s come forth, while he knew he should be flying his Gundam. Something was itching at the back of his mind.

Something he was suppose to remember and couldn’t. . .

//~~"Venenum Angeli. . ." he whispered. Crossing himself praying to survive. . . It was the devil of death himself. The force they had been fighting. He hoped now for a swift death. That would serve to honour his love. . .~~//

He sighed as the memory danced back into the dust of his bleary mind. He certainly remembered his first meeting with Sammael. He doubted anything that had met Sammael, good terms or not, had forgotten it.

//~~"My Vrita. . .My Apaosa. . .my Wufei." whispered Duo to Wufei's lips and captured them again. . .feeling the flesh of his lover up against him. . .as if those centuries of slumber had never occurred. . .~~//

He could feel himself harden as the thought drifted in front of the others. . . It was his Achilles heel, so to speak. . . He blushed and willed his already forming hard on to calm down. Hormones were hell. And it didn’t help that he was attracted to the daemon!!!

He blinked.

Did he? Gods. . . He didn’t just. . . “I can’t believe it! I’m reduced to entertaining sexual fantasies in my mind!!” Well, it wasn’t a _fantasy_. No, he remembered it being quite real. . . Real and enjoyable.

How could he not?! He didn’t _have_ anything but faith? Was faith all he had in Meiren? Certainly not love, for he wouldn’t be sitting half aroused in his Gundam debating whether to return to her or find Sammael and fuck him silly.

No. . . he was going to stop that train of thought. . . then and there. He was not going to have sexual thoughts on or dealing with that daemon! Didn’t he want his redemption? And it didn’t matter if the Seelie Court damned his people, because he wasn’t truly Sluagh just part.

And that didn’t matter because that was the past. Meiren loved him and he should be seriously examined if he even thought of betraying her.

//”She loves me.” he spat at his master, eyes burning black.

“So you say.” Sammael laughed and sat next to him, trying to ignore that the boy would flinch. “But really, you wouldn’t know. . . Have you even kissed her, my pretty lover?”//

Wufei growled at the control board. It wasn’t fair! He sighed and focused on anything but his thoughts. . . His hands. . . no. That wouldn’t do. They had claws at the end of his fingers. Why were their claws there? One word. Sammael.

//“I am worthless aren’t I. . .?”

Sammael barely heard those words, but he pulled the boy closer. “Not to me. . .”//

Wufei could feel tears cowering in the corners of his eyes. Why? Why did he get into these situations? History taught but one lesson, and that was it moved in cycles.

“Oh. . . Gods. . .” it finally hit him. Maybe for the first time in his life, he felt something lifted and removed from him, a mental block released and he willingly let the memories filter into his thoughts. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

//He looked at her in complete shock. . . “What?!?” he finally cried out in exclamation. She didn’t just ask him to do _that_!!

Mai Ran contained a rather smug look. “I asked father to send you with Exael to the front lines. . . I want the fighting to be quelled. . . I do not. . .” she closed her eyes calling on Dana for strength and continued, “I do not want fighting on the eve of our wedding. . . Vrita. . .” she grated out his name. Hopefully the cur was infatuated with proving his worth to her enough that he would never notice. . . <3>

Vrita calmed his temper. She called him by his name! Oh! The gods were smiling on him today. . . He could barely retain his joy from bubbling over. He would walk into hell for her and back with the head of the Horned God!!

He bowed, eye a light with internal elation. “As you request, my Grace.”

Mai Ran forced a smile and grated on, “I wish you the best of luck. . . Vrita. May you return to us with god speed. . .”

He rose and smiled at her. “Faster if I could, my Grace. . . May we be successful. Pray for my return.” And with one last bow he took his leave. . .

Mai Ran released a breath as soon as the door slammed closed. She waited till the echoes of footsteps across the old stone faded to nothing.

She turned and flung open the heavy curtain and looked at her advisor, Fand. “I hate him!” she hissed, pure venom in her voice. Her tone laced with every intention but what she promised. . ..

Fand smiled and flipped a golden curl over her shoulder. “You played him very well, Mai Ran. . . Neamhan will be pleased.”

Mai Ran smirked. “I would believe Neamhan would be more than thrilled that I have pushed all of her planning forward.”

“As you say, my Grace.” Fand replied. Sometimes. . . sometimes Mai Ran’s haughty attitude grated on her. After all, _she_ was the goddess. . . not Mai Ran. Well, not yet. How much of Neamhan’s plans Mai Ran truly understood, left much to be desired. . . which was fine for her.

This power hungry and egotistical brat would achieve Neamhan’s plans, and Ulster would flourish once again. They would drive away those barbarians with their golden armor and white robed serpents. They would win. . .

Mai Ran sighed and flopped onto her bed. “Where is Exael?”

Fand shook her head, clearing her thoughts. “He is with his soldiers, my Grace. . .”

Mai Ran’s cat like grin spread even wider. “Good. . .” she purred. Oh! She was happy when her plans worked out to the better. . .”And his ‘treason’ is ready?”

She held back a chuckle. Oh, Exael was an angel and may have the world resting at his feet. “But,” thought Fand, “he is not prepared for this serpent with her talons and plans. . . she will have him where she wants him. . .”

She turned to Mai Ran draped across the large bed. “Yes, my Grace. . . plans are readied and whether they win or not, Exael will crumble to his knees and serve you.”

“Good. . .” cooed Mai Ran to her personal goddess. “Perfectly wonderful. . .”

Fand watched as her mistress, her Grace, walked from the room. She was amazed at how well this child handled everything. . .she never ceased to amaze her. She looked out the window, taking in the beauty of the land.

How long would it last. . .? The wars were getting closer and closer and the old clans were few and far remaining. Those that were not destroyed, ran themselves into the earth from whence they came.

A land that was once ruled by the Sidhe and fee, was now a land of battling mortals. Mortals offering their prayers to the goddess. . . being helped. . .Being heard. That was the point Fand wanted to help Neamhan achieve. The Goddess was theirs. And theirs alone.

Mortals were weak and foolish. They should not be taught the secrets or the spells of the world to help them! Here they were suffering against the daemons and not one futile prayer had been answered!!

Fand growled and narrowed her eyes. She could see the fields of men and woman practicing for the battles that would soon be upon them. She found herself, as if it weren’t possible, to begin to wonder if this year of battle was worth it. . .

How many had been lead to their deaths? They were teetering at the lowest point of their kinds existence. . . Even with the low numbers, Mai Ran should have never ordered the attack on the Unseelie. That had cost them all but Vrita. A mongrel child with not even a trace of purity in him. . .

And that child. . . who’s eyes desperately wanted acceptance of her princess. . .Her Mai Ran. A brat who had been given her hand with out proving his worth. A cur who was useless but given titles and power on a silver platter. . .

Because they were scared of what would happen if Vrita found out how to access his powers. . . how to control the spirits in him. . . It was better to taunt and make the child feel unloved. . . if one had to strive to earn love he would never betray them. . . He could be manipulated so very easily by his infatuation of the princess. . .

And that. . . that would lead to his downfall and her rise. . .

“Then why this nagging feeling of guilt?” she pondered out loud. Fand shook her head, trying to clear her mind yet again that evening. . . The fields were probably where Vrita would be. . . if he were not in battle. . .

With a sigh, she pulled away from the window and left to go deal with the wounded. She paused a moment to offer a small prayer, “Goddess. . . I ask that the weakling known as Vrita meet his doom today. Thank you.”

~~~~~’~~@@~~’~~~~~

Vrita extended his hand as his raven landed gracefully on his fingers.

“Did the bird report any news?” Exael smiled over at his general. The child had many strange. . . quirks about him. Instead of the hawks the Seelie so proudly loved to use, this boy used a raven. “Again, his traits just give away his heritage. . .” He remembered the once great Unseelie hunters. Blending into the shadows. . . using the black bird of the dead to search out and find their prey. . .

And he wondered. . . “Interesting bird of hunt, Vrita. . . any reason for its use?”

Vrita turned to his Commander, he blushed slightly for the man taking any interest in him was a thrill to him. . . It made him feel like he was more than some half-breed. . . And he turned his thoughts to answering Exael’s question. “They seem to make an excellent hunter for me. They have never failed me before, nor do I imagine my Conway will ever. . .”

“Conway?” Exael asked. Strange child indeed. Raven for a hunter and Conway for its name. . . hunter of the plain. . .

“Ummm. . . it’s a name I remember from my childhood.” Vrita replied, obviously uncomfortable about mentioning his oft unknown past.

Exael smiled widely. “No. . . it suits him. What’s wrong with remembering your heritage. Rather noble I would think.”

It obviously made this boy uncomfortable. “Umm. . .” Vrita began, blushing and a bit embarrassed, “My heritage is really forgotten. . . I hurt my head and my people were killed. I only remember little things. . . and my people are supposedly not allies of the people whom I owe my life to. I don’t think it is good manners to slap them in the face with taking up my heritage and customs if it offends them. . .”

Exael laughed, brushing off the look of hurt on the child’s face. “Offend them? I would be more concerned of offending my ancestors, child. . . Vrita think of how you will greet your clan? Would they feel the same?”

Vrita bit his lower lip and thought. . . He was taken aback by the older soldiers words. . . Was he really hurting both his hosts and his heritage? He shook his head, letting his raven’s mind filter the information he desired.

Exael smirked as the thoughts raced through the boy’s eyes. . . He turned and looked to the direction the bird had come from. It was going to be an interesting day. . .//

Wufei paused his Gundam, making sure no one was even close to his area. . . He needed to get through this. . . Exael? Who the hell was Exael and why the hell was he so damned well intertwined with his past?!

Thinking through a multitude of memories it dawned on him. . .

//He stood before Belial with his head hung down, eyes cast away from his master and mentor. . . Why?! Why did he have to witness that?!

“Vrita?” Belial’s voice broke through the swirling mess in his head. “Vrita, I know this hard on you. . .on us all.”

Exael snorted. It was pathetic. . .that this brat was ruining his plan. . . As if the day could get any worse. . . Sammael now knew that he had killed Lilith and was planning a suitable punishment. . . Gods, sometimes fate would really backhand you. . .

Vrita eyes flickered on the candles. . . “Yes, sir?” So weak. . . How could his mentor have done _that_?!?

Belial sighed and rubbed his temples. His headache was forming quickly. He knew it wasn’t easy for the child to tell and turn in the man he held higher than the gods themselves. . . Belial wished it would have been any other solider that would have seen Exael talking to Asmodeus. . . just not the boy who worshiped the man to no end. “Vrita, you are sure it was Exael whom you saw. . .?” As if he didn’t know the answer. . .

The boy had come running in hysterics earlier this morning. . . It took hours to get at least one coherent word from the child. . . And he wished he hadn’t. . .

“Yes, sir. . . I. . . I saw Exael in communication with the enemy. . .sir. . ..” His voice faded to nearly inaudible. . . he had already been brought in front of the Order Assembly and stated what he saw to the elders. . . Condemning the man he thought was perfect. . . Was it that he happened to pick the people who would end up betraying him? Fate was a cruel mistress. . .

Belial sighed and dismissed the boy to his chambers. Vrita breathed a sigh and scampered off, leaving Exael and Belial in the study together.

Exael watched the boy scamper off. . . a smile graced his lips as he commented, “Don’t you just wish, Belial, that you could get into his pants. . .”

Belial glared at his once friend. “No, Exael. He is my soldier, and I saw his skills and his rare keen sense of justice. Those are the reasons I choose to keep him around. And you should be kicking yourself, letting him see you betray us. You just caused his beliefs to come crashing down.”

“Ha! Some belief system. . . a kingdom and Orders that hide the history of his heritage from the boy. . . because you are afraid of his power. . . pity. He would have been so much better if I had trained him.” Exael grinned over at Belial.

“You are a complete bastard.” Belial spit out.

“Thank you. . . and you have known that for years. . . Besides, you know they aren’t going to do anything to me. Letting everyone know that the traitor is so close to home? Never. . . come now, Belial, what is my ‘harsh’ punishment?” Exael smirked, attitude presenting itself.

Belial held back a snarl. The traitor was right. . . they weren’t going to do anything like they should have. He finally calmed his temper to grate out, “You are to remain in the palace under Fionn Mac Cumhal, his Grace. You are bound to the castle until needed on the field. That is all.”

Exael smirked and leaned back to rest upon Belial’s desk. “Not bad, eh old friend?”

Belial snorted. “And you loose your title.”

Exael shrugged. “No matter. . . but no one is ever going to know why, so why do I care?”

Belial sighed, the bastard had a point. . . though he wished the council had heeded his advice against Exael remaining here. . . He knew something was happening between Exael and his Princess. And while he questioned Exael’s motives, it was the Princess he was sincerely worried about. He knew her intentions. . . She didn’t love Vrita. . . and was going to make it so his soldier either perished or became a traitor. . . Vrita deserved better than her, but what could he do. . . Just wait till it played out and hoped his knight would survive another broken heart. . .

He turned to Exael. “I will have a maid bring you to your new quarters, Exael.”

Exael mock bowed. “Oh. . . how kind of you Belial. . .” and with a leering smirk, “See? Its almost worth it to become a traitor not only to the Orders but to the crown. . ..”

And after Exael was lead out of his office and down the hall, Belial released the breath he had been holding all day. . . “Yes, my old friend. . . sometimes we do ridiculous things for a higher cause. But forgive me, Vrita, I don’t follow my heart. . . only my orders.”

He must have been sitting there for hours, when a sharp knock on his doors broke him from his thoughts. “Come in.” he called out.

Mai Ran walked in, without being accompanied by her servant goddess for once. She strolled forward and Belial stood and bowed to his Grace. “My Grace, what can I do for you?”

Her black eyes narrowed and she asked calmly, “I have been informed by the Order of Angels that Exael has been removed from their ranks? Why?”

Belial winced at her last word but calmly replied under his orders, “For your protection, my Grace. But in order to do so he had to leave the Order. I don’t ask why, it isn’t my place, your Majesty.”

“I see.” She barely contained her glee. She looked over at Belial again. “I see. I have a request from myself and my father.”

“Yes, my Grace?” Belial asked looking at her and praying it wasn’t what he believed it to be. . .

“At dawn I want Vrita and his armies sent to Dundalk in the south. . . my father’s spies have heard Asmodeus has gathered his armies there.” She had almost a glimmer of glee in her black eyes.

Belial sat there in shock. . . sending his best knight and a boy he considered to be like a son. . . to his death? He looked at her and calmly replied, “Why him?”

Mai Ran twitched internally but continued, “Why not? Asmodeus is a strong enemy and Vrita is your strongest knight, Belial.”

“Or is there another reason for sending him, my Grace? A personal reason?” He knew he should have held his tongue, but this was treason against the orders! Who was this brat of a princess to toss lives away for her personal life?!?

Dark eyes grew darker. . . Someone dared to not trust her words?! “I order you to send him!”

Belial stood suddenly. “Why him? When you tell me your reasons then I will consider, my Grace.”

She stood shocked. . . someone actually knew the reason she wanted to rid her life of that cur? Someone actually saw past her fa�ade?

“You fa�ade lacks, my Grace. Your hate for the boy is unfounded and wrong. He is a dedicated soldier not only to the Orders, but also to your father, and to yourself. Tossing his life away would probably have notable effects on this house, my Grace.” Belial continued, he had to save the child from his death. . .

“If he thinks himself one of us, then he will fight. If not he is the cur I always knew him to be. A worthless creature not fit to be even near me. If he succeeds, then I will consider my father’s plans and perhaps marry him. If he dies, no problems for me and he receives a more noble death than he deserves.” She stated clearly. She placed her father’s sealed documents of approval. . . Though she didn’t use the same words with her father, it would achieve her goals. . . and she and Exael could be together at last. . .

Belial slowly opened the documents from the king. . . the wench!! It. . .it was his fault. He should have addressed this problem to the king earlier. . . when he had a chance to save the boy. The document was legal and it meant, whether he liked it or not, Vrita was off to his death tomorrow. . .

He let the document roll close and glared at his princess. “Forgive me for saying so, but you, my Grace, are not worthy of him. Nor were you ever. Vrita will be sent to battle, and I hope his death is on your soul and may you burn with the daemons for you treachery.” He grabbed the document and coat and went off to find his knight. . . to bid the boy farewell forever.

Mai Ran growled, that bastard!! How dare he call her that?!? She took a few breaths pushing herself to remain calm. . . a few days and she would be able to be with Exael. And no one could stop her. . ..

~~~~’~~@@~~’~~~~~

“All remaining men!! To the fronts! Attack the enemies swiftly!!” Vrita’s voice called out, commanding his troops. Looking briefly around him all he could see is the blood of thousands of nameless men dying for their country.

He kicked his horse and speed ahead of his men, taking down daemon after daemon, swinging his sword, attacking blindly against these shadow warriors. They were not even real daemons, just shadows. He needed to find their master and slay him, before he single handedly lost an entire army.

Screams intensified and he could hear his men being slaughtered lead their by himself. He wished Belial were here with him. . . Some knight he turned out to be, if fate was kind maybe he could die here instead of bringing this news of defeat home. And he would have a word with his majesty. Soldiers were to fight, not the commoners of villages he had been given, men who had never held aloft a weapon in their lives being lead to one of the most brutal fields in history. That wasn’t justice.

“Oof!” he cried as finally the shadows crept through his defenses knocking him off his horse and sending him onto the blood smeared plains. . .

He looked around. . . nothing. . . his men lying dead and cruelly slaughtered. . . No one but him. . . and with dread filling him, he slowly came to realize as more shadows circled him that he wouldn’t make it from the field himself. . . <<”Good bye my love. . . and forgive me, Mai Ran. . .”>> and he cried out his battle cry and attacked with every ounce of strength he had left and then some. . .

No human left in any decent part. All shredded, tortured and still he fought. He was a Knight. He was a Knight for her Majesty. He would not let her down. He fought for her honour, her love, and for her kingdom. The beautiful princess, awaiting her people, her knights. . . he had to survive. He had to! He had to tell her. . .

He wished he had that option. . . he would never make it back on foot, not through all these damned daemons! <<“Where is that bastard. . .”>> he hissed blinking the sweat and blood from his eyes, hoping to see a glimpse of Asmodeus to stop this. . .

With a scream of divine rage he cast another barrier spell, he wanted to heal himself so badly, but he couldn't afford to waste that power or time on himself. "Hold on and wait for me, my love. . . I will see you in your dreams. . ." he whispered. Slash after slash, arrow and fist, whatever he could find and use to live and get back to her. . . or die with her honor intact.

As he was fighting he never noticed a red haired daemon watching from the few remaining trees, chatting with his general, Asmodeus.

“Beautiful creature, isn’t he?” Sammael asked his general, violet eyes sparkling with lust for the warrior.

Asmodeus looked at the sweaty and bloody boy, fighting with all his might. “Looks like someone you have already had, master. . .”

Sammael snorted. “All my love interests look like hell by the time I am done with them. . . but he. . . he is special. . .” Then an idea struck him and he turned to Asmodeus. “Leave me. I think I may have found a suitable punishment for Exael for killing your mother. . .”

“Sir?”

“Exael will face his worse fear. . . this child I will help rise in my ranks and he will take Exael’s place. . . Exael will not be able to live down the humiliation. . .” A grin of pure malice crossed the daemon’s lips. And with a giggle Asmodeus flitted away, leaving Sammael to watch the beautiful boy. . .

He moved closer and started to drift a few meters off the ground watching this young warrior, he had seen so many fall so easily, it was amazing what this one was doing in the middle of his Asmodeus' troops. Very few ever stood this long- "Well, there it is." He muttered. Black eyes. . . so violent. . . so full of rage, yet held warm gray flecks betraying his heritage. . . Unseelie. Sammael’s smile leered and widened. He ran his eyes down that small and lithe body of the warrior. Beautiful. . . He could see this boy lying in puddles of cool silk. . . surrounded by love and blood. He fingered his long red braid and pondered the region of the seal upon this warrior's cloth. . . Who were they fighting now?

It seemed very familiar, but he had seen many kingdoms come and go. . . Oh. . . it looked like the warrior was on his last leg. "Pity. . . I enjoyed watching him struggle. But I think I could play out a few of my fantasies while training the boy. Exael, you will not get away with betraying me. . . I will create your assassin from the thing you hate the most. This boy." The shadows wrapped around their master and circled down to the field.

His eyes began to see fuzz. . . blood tears trickled down his cheeks and sweat stinging in his eyes. He could taste the copper in his mouth. He would die on this blood drenched field with out seeing his love ever again. . . never to see her. . . And as the blackness crept closer to him he was able to make out a red tailed braid with its master continuing closer. . . the shadows bending to his will. Was this-?

<<"Poisoned angel.. .">> He whispered. It was the devil of death himself. The force they had been fighting. He hoped now for a swift death. That would serve to honour his love. . . he whispered a quick farewell to Belial. . . He had failed and he would make his master and mentor cry. . .

Sammael stopped and looked at the boy. That boy’s tongue. . . it wasn’t ancient Gaelic, nor the languages used by the Seelie courts. . . "Latin? Ahhh. . .." It suddenly dawned on him and he chuckled. The Orders were really integrating new ways to the ancient courts.

Two black and gray eyes glared at him, which only caused more laughter. "You are too amusing, my beautiful warrior. Shall I fuck you?" The braided daemon chuckled.

<<”Daemon filth!! I can not understand you, but you shall not have me!!”>> He whispered trembling, despite his want to be brave. The daemon’s leering smile gave him a faint clue of what his punishment would be.

"Interesting choice of tongue. . ." He met frightened eyes and sighed, grin still in place and violet eyes burning with an internal hunger. "You don't understand me, do you?"

With a quick movement to his body, Sammael oozed into black ink and slithered up into his form again a few feet from the boy and walked like a hunter, admiring his fallen prey. After a few moments of violet gazing over the warrior and black eyes following his movements, Sammael stopped and lifted the boy’s chin. Too beautiful. . . A quarter of Dragon Sidhe and a quarter Unseelie mixed into mortal bonds. How could they offer him a creature like this so easily?

Vrita shuddered at the touch, it wasn’t cold but warm. He hadn’t expected that. . .

"Order of Virtues, yes?" the braided boy asked, running long fingers calmly through black silk, loving the glare the boy gave him for doing so. He tried again, <<”Order of Virtues, my child?”>>

<<"Um. . . yes. . . ">> the raven-haired warrior replied hesitantly.

Sammael sighed. This was very trying. The boy obviously only spoke the divine language used in the Orders and such, and he suspected it was to be expected but this beauty had such potential. His servants were paired off, and not very much interest to him but to break this human. This divine little creature and get revenge on the brat angel that had betrayed him? It was too much the fates were offering him not to refuse.

He made his decision. He had seen the evil and rage in that soul, those death eyes of black, rage in battle. It had to be his body and soul and heart. Sammael grasped the boy in the shadows.

<<“NO!!!”>> Vrita shouted as black shadows crawled along his skin, intimate touches playing on his senses. He panicked and struggled fruitlessly.

Sammael laughed and picked up a bloodied knife from the battlefield. "Is it so bad? This way there is no one to see your dishonorment." And he pressed his hand to the struggling boy’s throat and whispered ancient words letting the tongues touch the boy’s voice box and letting his language seep in, every word and pronunciation become his.

"Stop!!" the boy yelled and stopped wide-eyed, shaking in disbelief, his tongue had changed. He was speaking the language of the daemons!! He was trembling, 'Gods...' He looked up to see the lust laden in those violent eyes. So innocent to first glance was his captor, yet so very powerful, those eyes could never hide that fact.

"There now. This is much easier. Now why should I stop? I thought the act of love-making was a beautiful work of art, you beg to differ?" Sammael asked, leering at the boy.

"But. . . but. . ." the boy started, struggling as the knife removed his clothing, revealing his body to the devil holding him. Knife never touching his skin, a miracle with all his struggling and jerking. He didn’t want to be tortured like this. . . he wanted death more than this. . . this. . . defilement!!!

Sammael ran his hand down the boy's arm, stroking it softly, his voice just above whispers, "I wasn't sure, but seeing you like this, my warrior. . . I do believe you shall like this. . .you shall enjoy all I have to teach you my Unseelie. . . my dragon Sidhe. . . and my human. . ." With that said he began to stroke the boy enjoying the small gasps and tears pricking at the corner of those black eyes. . .

"Who. . .What in the name of hell are you. . . Why do you call me such things?!?!" the boy whispered, shuddering in fear and yet a desire to fall into this person who looked so human. . . a gasp escaped as the creature took a nipple into his mouth. It was so erotic and sensual the boy couldn't help but watch, fascinated and repulsed at the same time. . .

"Who and what in hell indeed! And you are those. . . Did they hide your heritage from you as well? Pity. . . but more for you to learn. . ." Sammael chuckled and wrapped a strong arm around the smaller boy’s waist drawing him close, lips brushing the other boy’s. "You can call me master. . . For I am you master and you will be mine."

"Sammael. . ." he whispered, the name forming and escaping from his lips before he could tell it otherwise.

Sammael chuckled and ran his tongue along the boy’s collarbone. “What do they call you, my precious?”

"Vrita. . ." the word came, without his consent. Was his body in control of his mind now?

"Vrita. . .beautiful. That name shall only come from my lips. . . and my lips alone. You are going to be reborn, little Vrita. . . death and famine will be your friends and servant shall you be to me. My blood is turning you to daemon as we speak and soon you will never hurt again. . . my Vrita. . ." the word was perfect. . . "My Apaosa. . .my Vrita. . ." His lips began to catch the screams of his lover. . . shadows releasing the boy to their master's arms. . .//

Wufei lurched forward with a shot as a scream poured from his lips. . .that!! Gods. . . why that horrendous day once again??! His clothes clung to his body. . . “NO NO NO NONONONONONNO!!!!!” he screamed as his body and mind tortured him to no end. . .

//”NO!” Vrita struggled as hands slid down his body. So warm. . . so warm. . .

“Never been touched like this? It is the touch of your lover. . . of me. . .” Sammael whispered and forced his fingers into the boy’s mouth.

Vrita chocked but sucked on them anyways. He couldn’t figure out why he would even let his body respond to this. Didn’t he love Mai Ran!?!

Sammael slid the fingers from the boy’s mouth, he could see his daemon influence already working into the boy’s mind, confusing him, showing his emotions to his mind and he slid a finger into the boy. Slowly probing, waiting for the reaction.

Vrita felt something invade him from behind - this was wrong - so very, very wrong!!! He squirmed and gasped as the finger twisted deeper within him. “Does it hurt?” the daemon asked, Vrita swore there was something mimicking compassion in its voice.

His fingers clawed at the ground as the monster slowly inserted a second finger, stretching slowly. He moaned at the movements. It was wrong and it was doing something strange to his body!

Sammael grinned and leaned forward catching the whimpering mouth with his, slowly teasing the boy and diving into the warm little mouth with his, tasting the essence of this splendid little creature squirming in pleasure and slight pain below him.

The last finger slid in and seemed to twist and turn, almost searching for something. Vrita’s eyes flew open as fingers brushed up against a certain spot causing his hips to buckle up against the daemons. “Perfect. . ..” Purred the daemon licking his chest, hands caressing his senses. Pleasure was building so quickly, again fingers pressed that spot and his hips grinded against the ones above him.

Vrita whimpered as his body spasmed beyond his control. It wasn’t fair that he was being raped by this. . . this. . . _thing_!!!

Larger hands pinned his down and slowly something very large nudged its way into his hole, stretching it, slowly sliding in. When he finally opened his eyes they widened at his position.

Sammael smirked. He was all the way in the boy. Vrita whimpered, he felt like he was burning! His body felt as if it was on fire. “Stop. . .” he whimpered another wave of pain washing through him.

Hands brushed pieces of loose hair away from his eyes and a soft voice whispered into his ear, “I’ll make the pain stop, I promise. . . Trust me. . .”

Sammael began pumping in and out of the boy. He completely forgot. Unseelie by this age had sex and had gone through their transformation. It was like a ritual among that culture. He should have realized this boy hadn’t yet.

Vrita felt the pain turn into bliss. Pure white fires of bliss, the more he relaxed and enjoyed what was happening to him, the more the pain went away. He let his hands slide around the daemons neck, not even a conscious thought any more, legs hooking around that waist. He buried his face into that strong chest, kisses running up that pale neck.

Sammael moaned in pleasure. Looked like his angel decided to join in on the fun, he winced. . . bite? The boy was nibbling on him. . . Ahhh. . .He could see fingers becoming claws and ears lengthening to a elfin point. Adorable.

With one last thrust the boy cried out in rapture and released onto his stomach while he buried his seed deep within that body. . . merging his majik and his blood to the half-breed. . . making him more than he was. . .Unseelie, dragon Sidhe. . . and daemon. . .

He whimpered at the loss of the feeling of bliss. . . his eyes were cloudy. . . he wanted that warmth back. Strong arms reached out for him and he readily accepted. Snuggling into that warmth. . . security. . .

Sammael peered down at the wondrous creature cuddled in his arms. The gods would have wept at such divine beauty. . . exotic and sensuous. . . He quietly chuckled as he noticed the transformation taking hold of the boy. . .small winglets poking from a blood marred back. . . a small tail had made itself apparent. . . golden skin. . . elfin ears. . . claws and small fangs. . . Oh, he was such a sight. He could feel himself growing hard just looking at the boy. . .

He chuckled and kissed the boy on those poutful lips. “Time to take you home, my precious. . . I have so much to teach you, my little lover. . .” He looked up and the shadows surrounded their master whisking him back to his private chambers. . .

~~~~~’~~@@~~’~~~~~

Sammael brushed his fingers though that raven hair. . . The boy’s bird sitting on the windowsill looking at them. . . he chuckled and looked at the bird, “I would not hurt your master, Conway, am I correct?” He extended his hand and the bird flew and landed on it.

It was truly the bird of the Hosts. . . beautiful in design. He briefly wondered if Vrita actually knew that the bird was something he created from his majik. . . probably not.

Looking down at the boy sleeping. . . he sighed. He had to tell the others and work to do. . . he pressed his lips to the boy’s cheek and whispered he would be back in a while. . .

~~~~’~~@@~~’~~~~

Sammael smiled as he pulled the boy onto him. Slowly stroking his fingers through blood matted silk hair. . . He should have given the boy a bath. . . Well there was time for that once the boy had awakened. He was thrilled his servants were strangely content with his choice and punishment for Exael. True, there was some jealousy, but it would be turned into friendship soon, after all they were all going to have to teach this wonderful creature so much. . .And Sammael’s smile widened as he noticed the boy finally stirring. . .

He relaxed as someone’s fingers combed through his hair. . . Gods. . . He hadn’t felt that sensation since. . . probably his childhood. He vaguely remembered through the veil of midst in his mind some woman. . . possibly his mother. . . stroking his hair as he lulled into sleep. He sighed. It felt nice. . . being in this dreamland, lying somewhere between reality and . . ..

He stopped and thought about it for a moment. . . there was someone running their fingers through his hair. And he _knew_ that it was not Mai Ran. . . and he wasn’t a child. . . and if he could logically think like this. . . He cracked open his eyes.

And was greeted by pale flesh. Actually, it was rather soft pale flesh now that he thought about it. . . And there was . . . “OH MY GODS!!!!” he blurted and was suddenly very awake.

Sammael smirked and ran his fingers through the boy’s hair. “You need a bath, my little one. . . Shall I start that now?”

Vrita chocked at that and stared at the daemon. He felt. . . strange. Something he couldn’t quite place at the moment. . . free? Free from what? Wait. . . the daemon said something. . . A bath?

Sammael smiled scooping up the smaller boy and headed towards his baths. Vrita blushed beat red. “Wha. . .What are you _doing_?!?!?” He shrieked at the taller daemon as he was picked up like one would a child and carried off to rooms unknown.

“I told you. . . a bath. I cannot allow my servants nor my lovers to be soiled. You were amidst a battle. . . and though blood and sweat do adorn you well, I prefer you clean in my bedroom.” Sammael replied civilly.

Vrita bit his tongue and said nothing in reply. He merely watched room after great room pass him by. “By Diana. . .” he whispered as more and more rooms passed them by.

“Yes, well, your noble Seelie court leaves much to be desired. As I have been told many a times, only villains have fabulous taste. I pray, tell me what you remember of your life before the Seelie claimed you as theirs?” Sammael asked. He always found that courtesy got him far more answers than did ill manners and a whip.

Vrita looked to the side to catch a glimmer of violet and a smirk sent his way. He felt the colour rise in his cheeks and something tighten within him. He quickly looked away and replied, “Nothing.”

“Pity,” the daemon responded with another grin.

Vrita ignored that comment and tried to not feel completely embarrassed by his position in the daemons arms. And finally muttered, “I can walk.”

Sammael chuckled gaily with laughter, “I am sure you can, but I know better than to do that. . .” and he walked into a room, “We’re here.” And dropped the boy into the cerulean waters with one movement.

Vrita hit the water and scrambled to use his limbs to claw to the surface. Breaking water, he gasped to fill his lungs with air.

Sammael grabbed those small hips and pulled them against his. “Hmmmm. . . You do look absolutely breath taking wet as well, Vrita. . . Tell me, is there anyway you don’t look fuckable?”

A blush spread across his face, first at the comment, then to how close he was with the daemon. He looked about to avoid those breath taking clear violet eyes. He noticed the room was not like any bathing room he had seen. . . Columns climbing to the ceiling, marble and ivory and silver everywhere, taking his every breathe away.

Violet eyes watched the curiosity of this loveable creature before him. . . Did the child even realize how much he remained Unseelie? Probably not. . . “Time to jog your memory. . .” he whispered.

He waded through the waters and reclaimed that adorable waist. “As amazing as this is, my delectable, you are even more so.”

Vrita blushed and Sammael guided his view to the mirrors and a gasp slowly escaped from his full lips. It wasn’t possible. . . the daemon was holding him. . . the reflection. . . Oh, gods. . . the reflection wasn’t. . ..

Sammael grinned and ran a finger along the wet skin along the arch of those small bat-like wings. The boy shivered violently with sex and lust.

Vrita gasped. . . “NO NO NO!!!” his mind whispered in sheer horror. . . This was not happening. . . “What have you done. . ..?” he whispered.

Sammael roared with laughter. “You! I have done nothing extraordinary. This, my love, is how you really look!”

“I don’t!” Vrita bit back, desperately holding back tears with every ounce of strength he could muster.

“Oh, but you do. The same would have happened on your wedding night with your dear princess, my love. Imagine what her reaction would have been? Hmmmm? You are so erotically breath taking. . . look at you. All I did was remove your humanity and replaced that with daemon heritage.”

“Gods. . .no. . .” Vrita’s eyes widened. “What. . . oh, gods. . . what?!?” He began trembling and as Sammael’s arms curled around him he looked down and noticed his tail through the water, between his legs. “NO!”

Sammael pulled the boy closer and buried the hysterical boy into his chest. Brushing his fingers through black wet silk. “My dear child, do not think yourself ugly. For you are too beautiful to even begin to think yourself plain. . .”

Vrita shuddered and another sob racked his body. . . Why?!? Why did he even let this happen?!?!

Sammael leaned and whispered into the boy’s ear, “If I remember. . . someone seemed to enjoy being fucked on the battle field. . .”

“I. . .I didn’t!” Vrita chocked out thought the sobs.

“Prove it.”

“What?!” Vrita chocked out and looked up in shock at the daemon.

“Kiss me,” Sammael said.

“What?!” Vrita whispered. . . Sure, those lips were so enticing but he couldn’t feel anything from this. . . this. . . thing!!

“Kiss me. If you can kiss me and not feel your body, heart and mind want more, then stop. And I will send you back to her.” The response came easily.

Vrita blinked. How come the daemon could always make perfect sense. . .? He had nothing to loose. . . He could do that. Besides the daemon repulsed him anyways, it wouldn’t be hard to win.

Sammael smiled as Vrita leaned closer and slowly pressed his lips against his own. Softly touching at first. . . almost completely hesitant. . . then a tongue darted out.

Then a rough pulling away. . . “No…” Vrita whimpered. . . his eyes clouding over to completely gray, breath fleeting from him, and lips moist.

“Am I pushing you?” Sammael asked. He made no move towards the beautiful creature, just lending his eyes to entrapment.

Vrita stumbled back, eyes blurring with obscene thoughts and betraying their desire. “You. . . you can not love. . ..”

Sammael sighed and called his shadows forth. They circled the room and cut off any exits. He stepped towards the quaking boy and reached out, claiming a wrist. He drew him close and ran his fingers down Vrita’s chest.

Dancing fingers, whispering caresses down that gleaming bronze flesh. Sliding down, breathing their charms and wars upon brown nipples, fingers danced their delight. They merrily trotted down and over muscle. . . the lithe body of a swordsman.

“Fragile. . . So desperately beautiful, m’love. Your rapture does not come from your mouth but within your eyes.” Sammael whispered, his eyes glancing through gray.

He was trapped. He was caught so horribly bad, that he had lost his escape from the moment he breathed the same air as this daemon. This creature that danced and played upon his desire like the wind teasing the grasses of the plains, was too much. A powerful protector, who’s fingers. . . hands. . . very breathe filled him with an inner fire.

Sammael touched the boy. Stroking his length, teasing till the boy had gripped him for strength. He pressed his own hardness against the boy’s, smiling at the whimper it brought forth.

He had the shadows wisp them back to his chambers. . . he had already claimed the boy’s body. . . marked the boy’s soul. . . he wanted the boy’s mind. He wanted to be more than the air the boy breathed. . . He wanted. . . He desired to be the very breath the boy took to live. . .

Vrita gasped as he felt the hardness press against his bottom. The daemon gently placed him on its lap. . . playing with his hair and caressing him. . . “Stop. . .” he whispered.

The fires crackled and the daemon whispered, soft alto voice that sounded like music. “What do you hold on to, m’love?”

Her. . . always her. The goddess he wanted to please. . . to hold. He so desperately wanted pure love. . . to be loved for a moment of his life. To feel that moment of rapture that so many were given so easily. . . That one thing he desired and could never have. . .

”She loves me,” he said, eyes trying to firm back to black.

A smile and a whisper of a kiss upon his collarbone. “So you say.” Sammael laughed and sat next to him trying to ignore that the boy flinched. “But really, you wouldn’t know. . . Have you even kissed her, my pretty lover?”

Silence and a glare. He didn’t need that. Their love was pure. . . right. Not this. . . vileness that lay before him. This vile creature that was damned by the angels. . . who’s violet eyes were burning into his soul. . .

Sammael’s smile widened. “See? How can you prove it? I love you. . . I kiss you. . . I will let you be seen with me in public and private. . .”

“She loves me.” came the firm response. For he knew that. . . that her cold eyes could never express the desire that was bubbling over those orbs of violet fire. . .

“I _touch_ you.” Sammael replied, getting into this word game. . . It had been so many long millennia since he had someone like this intriguing youth. This child and man who struggled for something that was freely being offered and not acknowledging it. . .

“. . . She loves me.” Unsure now. . . Pale flesh. . . his heart pounding to some beat. . . A beat that he was born with though he never remembered hearing it. . . A fire glistening in the darkness of his memory. . .

“Has she ever said so?” Sammael asked, playfully stroking his arm. . . Playing with strands of black hair. Pressing lips to a neck. . .

“. . .She loves me. . .she does. . .” wavering. . . A pounding so great. . . slowly looking from the red hot dances of the fire to those glowing eyes. . . So patient and yet playful. . . hair more alive than any storm or sea. . .

Sammael hooked an arm and pulled the golden boy closer. Fingers brushing through black silk and lips whispering soft kisses along elfin ears. The boy was very suited to his daemon looks. . . Running his fingers along the wings. . .

A gasp. . . This body was changing. . . Being released from some horrible prison. Awaking to something he had only dreamed about. . . “. . .She must have. . .” Faltering. . . black eyes looked up at the daemon holding him, so unsure and scared. . . Sammael blinked at that fear dwelling. . . so insecure and unsure. . . desperately wanting something to claim to be truth. . . “She did. . . didn’t she?”

Sammael pressed a chaste kiss to the boys lips. “I can’t answer that.”

Doubt was spreading like wild brush fire through the golden skinned boys mind. “She never. . . but. . .but. . .” Arms. . . secure arms that did not waver. Protection. . . Love. . . Warmth. . . Love. . .

“But I do,” Sammael whispered claiming those lips. Unhooking the latch upon his heart. . .

The boy broke into sobs, cuddling into that secure embrace. His heart was breaking. . . “I am worthless, aren’t I. . .?”

Sammael barely heard those words, but he pulled the boy closer. “Not to me. . . Apaosa”

“Please. . . please don’t say that. . .” the boy pleaded.

“Apaosa? I named you that. . . others will call you that. . .” Sammael replied. He held Vrita’s chin and pressed his lips to the boy’s. Drawing back whispered, “My Vrita. . . my beloved. . .”

“Please. . . stop. . .” Vrita sobbed. Arms flinging around that neck, burying his face into that broad chest.

“Why? Why can I not say what I mean and what I feel?” Sammael asked quietly.

“Because. . . am I to think. . . that everything. . .everything I was taught was a lie. . . that only a monster can love me? Am I that undesirable. . .?” He was so unsure, so terribly scared. . .

How was he to answer _that_? Sammael sighed. . . this one. . .He loved so dearly. . . but. . . it demanded so much. He was never so emotionally involved. . . but one look at those black tear-filled eyes gave the only answer he needed. “Sometimes what we believe can be changed. I love you. . .”

“But you are a daemon. . .” the response came so firm. . . It was automatic by now. . . It was what he was taught. . .

“Are you evil?” Sammael asked, looking at those eyes melt to charcoal gray in thought.

“No. . .” a soft reply came.

“And you are a daemon. Becoming an angel, or a daemon, or any other creature does not change your thought process. . . I have seen angels slaughter and daemons love. . . It is what others try and make us out to be. “ He sighed and looked down. Black eyes blinked with curiosity. . . waiting to hear words. . . and Sammael continued holding the boys attention.

“Vrita. . . if someone killed Mai Ran would you hunt them down and kill them?”

He paused. . . No one but this daemon had ever asked him that. He didn’t know how to answer. Everything else could come too his defense to swiftly. . . but nothing rendered itself a volunteer to that question. He had to dig in his heart and mind for perhaps since the first time he had met her for an answer. . . “No. She probably did something mean and got herself killed for a reason. . . She’s deceitful and backstabbing. . . I wouldn’t do that. . .” And black eyes looked into the fire and the room was silent once again.

Sammael sighed and leaned back. Well, that wasn’t going well. . . Not well at all. . . He looked down when he felt the body on his lap shift and black hair tickle against his chest. . . the boy. . . Vrita had leaned back and was snuggling against him. . .

Black eyes looked up to catch violet orbs and those lips said very steadily, as if the boy was sure of something for the first time that night. . . “But I would if someone hurt you.”

“What?” Sammael asked looking at the boy.

A blush worked its way over bronze cheeks. “I. . . I didn’t mean it. . . I. . .”

Lips silenced his. Passion broke open like a wave on the sands. Breaking and wearing down the barriers and softening his darkness and fueling his light. “I. . . meant it?”

Sammael grinned. “I understand. I love you.”

Vrita blinked. And slowly, perhaps for the first time since he could remember, he smiled out of joy. “I. . . I think I may. . .” and kissed the daemon. . ..//

Wufei landed Shenlong without any troubles, taking his time camouflaging her. He worked through mere actions, his mind was elsewhere. He brushed at the wetness on his cheek. . .

Tears? He looked down at the water on his fingertips. Tears. . . He was crying. Why? Perhaps because he was where he had begun. Starting completely over in this mess. Did he ever love Meiren or was it something he just wanted? Like some strange fantasy? She was not perfect. He knew that. . .

But. . . he had never felt anything like what he had begun to feel in Duo’s arms. . . Without Duo. . . without the others. . . what was he? Just some regular soldier who could pilot. Nothing special. . . He was only special to Duo. . .

Wincing as fingers grazed over his horns once more he sighed. What was done, was done. . .And it didn’t matter. . .

He walked through the empty halls, keeping to the shadows and attempting to hide his transformation. Luckily, since it was early morning, no one was up. Well, the dead of morning-

“Kisama. . ..” He blinked. He. . . he knew that voice. He looked around and focused on where it came from. . . Following the urges whispering from the back of his mind. . . The Study.

He quickly stalked through the old halls. The voices grew. He stopped short before a corner. . . He watched Meiren walk by. And he didn’t call out. For one reason or another, he decided against it. Listening to his instincts for once and not his heart. . ..

There was a whimper of agony and nothing. . .He watched Meiren slip into the office. Once he heard the click of the latch, he slipped closer and peered in through the lock and listened.

“Always a step ahead, dear. . .” He heard Meiren say. . . Dear? She never used those kinds of . . . familiarities with anyone. Not even him.

“So delightful to see you, my dear. . .” Trieze. He knew that voice anywhere. But what was Trieze doing here. . .Exael. . . He tensed slightly, ready for swift movements to escape if necessary. How fitting that he watched the man betraying more people. . . And why did he call Meiren dear?

He couldn’t see much through the lock. . . But he did hear a zipper and a soft moan. . . “I swear. . . if that bastard hurts her. . ..”

“It’s almost poetic seeing the brat lying on broken glass. . . Trap ready?” He blinked. Meiren? Who was lying on broken glass? Ahhhhh. . . the first person he assumed.

Another moan. Trieze’s voice. . . he sounded like. . . Wufei felt a blush work its way up along his cheeks.

“Later. . . “ She whispered attempting to catch her breath. . . “Later. . . deal with him now. . . Then I’ll show you a reward. . .” She said, her voice husky and sultry.

Wufei crept as close as he could. . . Meiren’s voice almost sounded lustful. It was a frightening thought. . . This was very odd. . . Something was happening and he was not being informed. . . Was she using him again?

Trieze smiled and licked his lips, eyes running down her body. “You, my dear, are always an award. . . Am I only looking at my prize. . .?”

Trieze was hitting on his wife?!?! His mind shut down and he barely scampered out of the way as Meiren opened the door and whispered parting words. . .

He froze a moment, unsure how to proceed. . . He supposed he should have followed her. . . But someone was going to be hurt and damned if he was going to let that happen.

He stood up and went to walk away, when a large hand clamped down on his shoulder. Lips came in close by his ear. . . “Don’t move. . .”

He almost released a sigh. Wufei turned slightly, eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. “Mephistopheles?” he asked, whispering slightly.

A nod. “I followed his trail here. Care to explain?”

Wufei looked at the taller daemon. “I. . . I just got back myself. . . Tracked who?”

Mephistopheles looked the half way transformed boy up and down, then softly replied, “Heero.”

“Heero is here? Why?” Wufei blinked in shock.

Zechs smirked. “Why should I tell you?”

It was an excellent question. He was choosing sides now. . . Wufei bit his lip.

The blonde looked scornfully at the boy. “Thought so.”

He grabbed the man’s wrist as he brushed past him. Zechs looked slightly angry at the touch and hissed warningly. Wufei grinned and indicated with his head the opposite direction Zechs was facing. “If Trieze takes him to the prison cells like he should. . . the prisons are this way.”

Mephistopheles looked skeptically at Apaosa and narrowed his eyes. “Changing sides?”

“I have not said that. I just said I would show you where the prisons are.” Wufei smirked.

Zechs smiled. “Good enough.”

~~~~’~~@@~~’~~~~

to be continued. . ..

<1> the weight of the memory lies in the weight of the world. . .
The weight of my world? That is lies in my love.
<2> exerts derived from Faery Encyclopedia online.
<3> Dana. . . the ancient Pagan/ Witta name for whom Ireland now calls Brigid. She was part of the triple goddess.