Authoress’ Ramblin’:

I know! I know!! I already have F.L. and I can barely make its curfews! But screw it! This one just popped up in my sick little head the other day.. so, if I make a change in the summary later on, I’ll let you know. It’s purpose is still kind-a brewing itself inside my head... But, hell, here’s the first chapter!
I used a different kind-a method for this story. I’m going first person all the way. (Let us see if I stay that way… ;.;) And another thing: The place Eli comes from is like a second Earth (the first one was destroyed by the humans many years ago, let’s sum it about seventy or so), put its mixed with fairies, elves, witches, ‘Yucks’ and ‘Lillies’, and others, and they all live among each other (except humans: they still believe to be the superior being), which I will explain along the way... X3 Hnn… Let us see, if I’m forgetting anything else... I believe not... SO! Read on, and review!! XD

Title: The beginning of an End

Author: Mephistophilis

Summary:

A human girl, Elizabeth, has been granted a wish. But in this world, only elves and fairies are permitted to grant wishes, and the one that will grant her deepest wish is none other than one of the most feared Cursed Ones alive...

Rating: None:.. For the moment...

Warning:

None, until now... But since it’s me, it’s only fair that I should tell you that this might end up in the yaoi category. X3 So, read on and review!

Prologue: The Beginning Of A Fairy-tale

You might think that this story would begin: Once upon a time, a beautiful princess lived happily with her beautiful and perfect King and Queen, in a wide and marvelous castle made of chocolate-chip and praline ice cream... Well, let me just burst your bubble and let you fall, face-first, in the cold, hard floor, called Life.

I’m a sixteen year-old girl. Five feet and four inches filled with dread and hate. Long, flat lifeless died blue hair, its true color known only to the age-old photographs and those few souls who actually cared by that time. Common coffee brown eyes camouflaged by gray contacts. Well-taken pale skin, but rudely treated by puberty, never given the chance to confront the Sun face to face, always hiding away from him. And my closet? What do you think. There’s nothing more than dark colored clothes: black, purple, navy-blue, maybe a few dark jeans. Goth? No. I don’t consider myself to be a ‘Goth’. I’m not one to be mourning a loss, nor my own loss. I just, am.

The perfect King and Queen? Only in fairytales and folklore; I have no more than a drunken father 365 days a year, who brings his so-called friends over most of the nights for poker games; and a whore for a mother, dating a new man every two nights. I believe father has been too drunk to notice…

And the castle? Please, don’t make me laugh. The place in which I’m doomed to live in is no more than an over-sized study with a kitchen applied to it. My parents have their own room with a bathroom at the end of the hall. A few feet away, there lies the common bathroom between my progenitor’s and my own quarters. The kitchen is at the end of the hall way, in which is the front door as well. Quite a castle, huh? I believe canned tunas live more comfortable than I do.

But, moving on; tomorrow’s my birthday. Here in Dixdin, once you turn seventeen, you are considered ‘of age’. I consider turning seventeen ‘having wasted seventeen years of my time doing absolutely nothing’. Well, unfortunately, I still live under my parent’s roof, and I have to “obey” their rules. Which are quite small and simple; first of all, never ever touch the booze. That’s God. No touching. No bad-mouthing it. No nothing. And drinking it is essential for a complete and healthy happy life. (Confusing, huh?) Second, the television was created by Satan, and for Satan. That’s why we even have a portable T.V. with cable in the bathroom. And third, and surely not less important than the last mentioned; junk food and fats are the most highly and important part of our nutrition. If the plate doesn’t have AT LEAST three-fourths of either of them, it’s not worth it, and goes directly to the garbage. Oh, and did I mention that recycling is prohibited?

That’s why I only drink alcohol free drinks, completely natural; read and write as much as my eyes and hands can bare, and eat only the healthiest of foods. I’m a vegetarian; only eat meats when it’s necessary.

I keep losing track of my line of thoughts. I was saying, oh yes; my birthday. My parents arranged a date-thing on their own, as a surprise. But, being my parents, they were stupid enough to leave the list and notes out in the open in the kitchen counter next to the empty cans of beer. They arranged a date kind-a thing with The AssFucker, I mean, um, “boyfriend” for us to meet at this bar/club, called Manny’s Joint. Disgusting. And to later go to his house…? I laugh at their pitiful attempt of trying to get me to follow in their footsteps! But, that’s okay. I’ll play their little sick games and see if I amuse myself by their stupidity.

And so, I go to my room, as always: after cleaning and tiding up the mess they leave behind at their wake, before they fall unconscious where ever they are. In my room I lock myself out of their shouts, parties and barbaric rituals to unknown and unseen gods as I bury myself in my books. But tonight is slightly different. As I enclose myself in my own seemingly breakable safety, I seek the refuge of music and loud noise. After making sure that they can’t hear anything I say nor do, I throw myself in the open arms of my closet.

After what seems long hours of trying on clothes, of throwing useless rags behind me, and placing possibilities on the bed, I come up with the perfect outfit. Now to put any signs of my little tour away and to bed early; as always, I read a few chapters of the current book, write a few pages in the notebook I’m currently using and to tuck myself in.

In the morning, my sober mother bangs on my door, almost bursting it out of its hinges to let me know they were hungry. I wake, pull myself out of the bed and throw myself under the open arms of the icy shower. After a quick shower I drag my legs to the kitchen and prepare myself my breakfast, completely oblivious of the burning glares of my progenitors behind me at the counter. I take my mug of herbal tea and toast to my bedroom and lock myself in again.

The usual...

I check the clock and note the earliness of my parents awakening. They must be making the preparations for the “surprise” date. Pity; I’ll have to spoil their “fun”.

I hear them rummaging around and fighting over (only the gods know) what stupid little things, for four hours. Four straight hours of peace! But, Alas! It had to end. My drunk of a father bangs the door half out of its hinges and yells at me to get my ‘fat fucking of a lazy ass out of my fucking lazy ass room’. That’s pretty much what you’ll hear in every sentence he is able to conjugate by himself. If there is no ‘fuck’ word nor anything associated with a curse, it’s not worth saying at all.

I drag myself out, as usually I would, and come face to face with the b.f. (let us call him that, shall we?) grinning slyly at me from his leaning position at the door. I roll my eyes and stare at my almost sober parents. They exchange glances and before they have the chance to burst out, I cut them short. “Should I go get dressed now? I think it’s too early to go to Manny’s.” I can see the light flickering off in their eyes. Oh, this is better than I expected! But my father’s eyes are burning with a new ablaze fire: anger. “What? It was a surprise? Well, you got me there, pops, I didn’t thought you’d call him for advise-” That’s were it all comes down to this: My father pissed off, the b.f. laughing his ass off, and my mother shouting curses at me. I only turn around and walk to my room, again, to place myself in the already waiting attire.

Assuming that was a yes, I turn to my arsenal, already ready for me to slide in and walk out. A black sports bra, a red net shirt on top with its left sleeve ripped; a long black skirt with brackets and silver chains dangling by aimless hooks; knee-high black stockings, tucked away by worn combat boots. The accessories are quite simple: about ten black plastic bands on my left wrist; higher, on my upper arm, a silver dragon brazes my arm protectively; on my right earlobe a silver cross with black designs dangles carelessly; my neck is decorated with a black leather choker with the head of a glaring silver Kirin in the middle. Black eye shadow, dark purple lipstick with the faint sign of gloss over it, while my nails are neatly painted an even darker shade of purple.

As I walk out of the room I grab my petite wallet and hide it away on one of the many pockets the skirt is decorated with. I lock the door of my room and skid past my arguing progenitors and the b.f., planting myself on the passenger sit of his neatly waxed black Z-Row (which is like a new version of the oldie Lamborghini Diablo), and it’s brand new, fresh of the year; and I place my chin on my hand, barely able to contain my boredom.

The b.f. barely makes it in, with them behind him, and burns rubber as he jump-starts his ‘turbo’ into ninety miles per hour in less than a minute’s worth. The ride to Manny’s is fast and accelerating; with a few slaps to a misplaced hand trying to travel up my thigh. He is in charge of the music: some crap he downloaded from his computer, or should I dare say, a CD that he stole from a friend of his. I ignored him, the music and the annoying buzzing of the engine all the way to the club. An hour and a half long ride reduced to a fifteen minute and a half joy ride. That’s the only positive outcome I can see out of this. He slows into a crawl behind a red Chevy in the line for the drive thru to leave his car in the VIP (meaning: Valet Incompetent Penguins). Ten agonizing minutes of only hearing him rambling with no apparent end about how he got himself such a job and the boss did I don’t know what shit about who and got him fired three times in a row. Something like that. I don’t know if he actually notices that I’m absolutely ignoring him by staring off into space out the window. It may be the lack of air in the brain, or maybe too much air where his brain’s supposed to be…

But my little dilemma of the b.f. having a brain, or a total empty air compaction inside the walls of meat and bones, is interrupted as he comes into a full stop and a PinguinMan (as I like calling those Valets with suites) opens my door and tries to help me out. I only glare at him as he steps back. The b.f. comes around and throws the keys to the trembling PenguinMan, which calms as soon as he sees the b.f. and smiles nervously, throwing glances at me.

“Hey, Joey…. Who’s she….?”

“This’ my gal, Fir.” He tries to place his arm around my shoulder, but I nudge him a few feet away from me. The PenguinMan called ‘Fir’ raises an eyebrow and nods once. “Take care o’ Cindy there-” He nods to his car. I can’t believe he names his car Cindy… “-you know what’ll happen if you don’…” The b.f. throws a menacing glower at PenguinFir as the tanned suited young man hurries into the car and drives it away. The b.f. turns to me and offers his hand. I think I’ve been quite polite, haven’t I? I walk past him and head to the front doors as he beckons me to slow down and wait for him.

If it wasn’t for the stupid line, I would have already been in and as far away from him as possible. But he caught up with me. I shake my arm off of his grip and glare back at him. He pants and catches his breath as he rumbles around his jacket, looking for something. He pulls me out of the line and drags me to the front of the mile long line. I can feel the burning glares and the cursing of those who have waited for their turn so patiently. The b.f. pulls two blank, dull green pieces of papers and waves them for me to see. I shrug and follow, pulling my hand to myself as we come closer to the front of the line. The huge doors stand closed and the bright brass seems to have been rusted shut for eons, the neon lights around it give it an eerie glow as the green, yellow, blue and red tubes encircle it and shine dully against the enclosing darkness of the dying Sun. I turn to notice how late it is, and see the blood-shot Sun sinking slowly behind brown and gray mounts of smoke and smug, behind houses smoking from their many chimneys. But I turn to the long hungry line as one particular guy elbows me in the ribs and chuckles. I glare at the dark skinned man beside me and he seems to be taken aback, but regains his composure and tries to come close to me saying something about how romantic a blood Dusk is in this time of year...

Neon necklaces round his thick dark shining neck, a neon earring shines in his left ear, and green eyes shine bright with the neon glow around him. I stare emotionless at him and he shudders and calls me a freak or something like that, but I didn’t get it completely since the b.f. just came and pulls me by my arm to stager to the doors. Once again I brake free from his grip and stare up at the two huge bouncers standing side by side, glowering down at us. One of them, the seemingly smarter one with dark hair asks us in a deep voice why had we cut. The b.f. shoves the two little papers in his huge ape-like hand as they glow bright neon green, and bright pink neon letters appear as if with magic, spelling our names and paid in and out:

Joey Hockings & Elizabeth Zinmall

Paid Entrance and Stay.

I roll my eyes as they glance at us and reluctantly let us in after checking our identification cards; which are tiny purple portable cards with a picture of the owner, their name and, if they are under aged, the names of their parents and refuge number; but as soon as one becomes of age, the names of their parents are replaced by the partner (engaged or marriage) which appears automatically, as well as the number of refuge, if one moves. After passing the ape-like bouncers, we enter the labyrinth of neon lights and ghastly images drawn on the glass walls. The hall goes on and turns sharp once or twice as we come closer to the loud and throbbing club music; the glass mirrored walls vibrate with the music’s rhythm as I hurry along, leaving the b.f. behind.

The mirrored wall disappears into a huge low ceilinged room filled with a whole mass of bodies drawn up together and moving to the music’s rhythm. I turn to the wall at my left and walk hurriedly to the back of the club.

I stand as far away as possible from the pressing mass of bodies and gaze lazily at all the commotion in the place. A supposedly dance floor is before me, where many bodies accessorized with neon tubes, earrings and bracelets jump and move around attempting to dance while being pressed as they are against each other. Lights flash and neon glitter fills the air, making everything glow and change shape and color. Women with men, men with men, women with women, anything is possible and accepted and ignored in this place. Anything, from humans, elves, hybrids, from the wizardry community, and even from the creatures that you couldn’t even imagine nor wouldn’t even be able to comprehend. But everyone is cloaked with a seemingly human or at least an elven disguise. There’s neither evil nor good in this place, you enter at your own risk. The problem is that there’s no warning sign outside. Heh, pity for those who venture in, oblivious of the danger they can get themselves into.

But, to the matter at hand; I’m just gazing absently at the crowds of creatures dancing and making a racket. I turn to the bar, in the other side of the room, far away from me, and note people drinking. How fun. (Note the sarcasm in my voice?) I roll my eyes as I see the b.f. sitting casually in a stool flirting with, what seems to be, a waitress. He turns his gaze toward me, as if feeling my stare, and winks. I glare daggers at him and he only laughs.

I look away from him and turn my attention once more to the moving mass before me. How is it that they can move in there? And with that music?

And at the moment the rhythm changes and an oldie rolls up. I believe it’s an age old group called Black Eyes Pea. Old indeed, since my grandmother told me once about her grandmother having heard of them when she was young. I believe the song’s called Don’ Funk With My Heart. Nice rhythm, but still not my personal choice for dancing. What am I thinking! I don’t dance...

So, why is my right foot and hips betraying me, and doing as they please? My hips are moving slightly with the rhythm as my foot sets a rhythm for them to follow. How bizarre. I scan the crowds and unconsciously walk away from the wall I was leaning on, walking slightly toward the moving mass. And I notice as soon as a warm body presses itself against my back. I gasp and freeze. Well, momentarily stop moving, as my hips keep working as if hypnotized by the rhythm. Pair of hands is placed at my hips and are swaying along with them.

Furious, I try to turn and give a piece of my mind to whoever is behind me, but find it quite difficult the task: The person keeps moving and striding behind me, keeping itself away from eyes contact. And so, not able to see it, I shout above the music’s throbbing. “Let go-” But a whisper makes me choke on my own words and totally freeze, hips and all.

“You should loosen up a little bit….” The whisper echoes itself in my head as I snap that I don’t dance, shouting it above the music. “That’s not what your body’s trying to scream out loud….”

“Well, if I let my body do as it pleases; I wouldn’t be here right now-”

“No. You’d be out there… dancing your heart out…”

“I repeat-and I dislike repeating myself-I do not dance.” And after saying this, even if he heard me or not (yes, I have come to the fascinating conclusion that it is indeed a he), I try to pry myself out of his grip. But, as I feared, it proves to be quite impossible the task. He keeps gliding behind me, keeping himself completely hidden form me. He takes a stronger grip on my hips and starts swaying them at the music’s rhythm, while whispering ‘Loosen up…. What are you afraid of…? Let it go and do as it pleases for once…. It has the right to-it was born to, you know….’

“No. No it wasn’t. It was born to obey me, in any case. And I do not dance.” I say casually, not forcing my voice. But still he replays as if I had just whispered it at his ear. ‘Then, it’ll rebel, just how it did back there… and just how it is doing it right now…..’ I notice that he had loosened his grip on my hips and they are moving on their own, swaying from side to side along with him.

I fume and step away from him, not able to stop dancing, I hear him chuckle. “See? Your body is starting a riot against you and your strict rules and nonsense!” I turn to face him, but somehow he turns up behind me and takes hold of my sides, holding me in place. As I scramble and fret under his grip, and my body’s desire of dancing on its own accord, I mentally curse, ‘Who does he think he is?! And talking to me that way!! Preposterous!!’

And as soon as the last syllables finish echoing inside my head, I hear him chuckle behind me and feel him getting awfully too close to me. He whispers in my ear, “I’m only trying to help you….. And seeing that your partner over there doesn’t seem to care much or less about you… I thought I might assist you as well.” At the mention of my ‘partner’, I knew he’s talking about the b.f., but I thought I had walked ahead of him. How could he have known we came together? I glace, without turning my head, over to the bar, and there he is, with a drink at hand, a girl on his lap, and talking casually to some guy beside him. I turn away, with the bagel I ate earlier before leaving, coming up. But the feeling dissolves as soon as he comes again and grips my hips, as they slow their sway and he whispers again ‘Loosen up, girl…. Forget him….’

“Oh, don’t worry; I’m not like this because of him. I can assure you of that much!” with that, I turn with the hopes of catching him unguarded and to finally see him face to face. I note that he’s a sly as any elf alive, since he already is behind me. ‘Nice move there, missy! Keep it up and you’ll be dancing on your own in no time!!’ “What if I don’t want to dance?” I snap back, quite fed-up with the game of tag. ‘Then why did you come here, in the first place?’ I catch myself unguarded for such a question and find myself pondering on the answer myself. “I… dunno…. I mean- it’s none of your goddamn business!” I snap back. ‘Of curse not; just wondering... ‘Cus, if you don’ mind me saying so, it’s quite ironic to find someone who loathes dancing and just plainly won’t dance in a dance club.’ He chuckles at probably the redness that has crept up my cheeks, but I very well know it’s not of embarrassment.

“Fine…” I whisper in defeat at the seemingly unbeatable foe. “But if I am to dance, I’d like to dance face to face. Not have him dancing up against my back and not knowing with whom I’m dancing with!” at this I turn, without thinking so, and find him with his back turned to me, and I hear his whisper at my ear once more: ‘Sly move made by the human… Point one for you… Must feel pretty proud of yourself… Happy now?’ I could hardly catch a glimpse of silver hair whipping from side to side as a couple of people dance by and block my view. When I get to push past them I feel him back behind me. ‘Like what you see…?’ I frown. “Hell- How can I when I can’t see you!” I snap back at him and he only chuckles again.

He takes hold of me once more around the hips and starts the slow sway. My body follows. “Okay… you know I’m human-” ‘That’s obvious.’ “Okay, then. Let’s here it. What are you?” Silence. The music throbs on. ‘Not important.’ He hurries a few steps and twirls behind me. My body follows unconsciously his every step. ‘Good! Very good!!’ “Don’t change the subject-” He places a hand in my stomach as he takes hold of my right hand. I turn and stare at his hand holding mine, trying to steal a glance at his face, but he hides his face behind my head. “-speak now. Tell what you are.” His hand slides and grabs hold of my wrist. His skin is pale, nails perfect, long and seemingly strong. Silence. “How come you won’t tell me?” He guides my hand to my left shoulder and takes hold of my shoulder, keeping my arm across my chest. No answer. “Answer me.” He keeps dancing behind me. “I know you can hear me. Why won’t you-” His swaying slows and I can feel him shift behind me, lowering his head, breathing in my ear. ‘Not…. Important.’

I give up. I’ll find out, sooner or later…. I turn my face so he can hear me; actually, it’s to see if I’m able to get a glimpse of him, again. “Why, then?” He shifts again. ‘Why what?’ “Why choose me?” Plain and simple. ‘Well…. For one thing, you are quite interesting. Not many humans think like you do, Eli.’ “-gasp- How do you-” ‘And I knew it was gonna be quite interesting trying to get you to do as I pleased… You’re not what I’d call a normal human….’ “Flattering. And what do you mean by ‘do as I please’?” He chuckles behind me and skips a few steps to the side; my body doing so after him. I see what he means. ‘See what I mean?’ I frown and try pacing away from him, he follows. “Not really. I’d say I’m as in-control as you are...” I hear him chuckle again.

“Okay... if you won’t tell me what you are... I might as well try to guess.” No answer. I knew you wouldn’t answer. ‘What am I to answer?’ I’m not really surprised he can hear my thoughts, seeing as how he can hear me over the throbbing music. “Well, it would make it easier for me if you’d just tell me...” ‘But it wouldn’t be as fun as hearing you strain your brain trying to guess!’

Haha, funny... “Nice sense of humor... Okay, let’s start... Are you an elf?” ‘Oh, come now! An elf?! You can do better!’ “A fairy?” His grip on my shoulder tightens and I hear a low hiss from behind me. ‘Answer enough?’ I laugh at the note of annoyance on his voice. “Very amusing! Okay... Are you... a human, by any chance?” He shifts behind me and now I hear a growl. ‘How dare you!’ I laugh again and continue with my pondering. He seems to not like elves... but despises fairies? And loathes humans. This is hard. Almost everyone loathes humans enough to kill anyone how calls them a human. Only Yucks and Lillies dislike fairies. And this guy is not one of them. Though it’d be amusing... “Arou a Yuck or Lilly?” ‘That’s a joke, right?’ I laugh harder still and shake my head slightly. ‘What’s so funny?!’ Confirmed. Okay. Then... Wizards get along with everyone, except...

I gasp as he twirls me around and get a tight hold of me after a three-sixty. “Wait! Are you-” ‘A what...’ My eyes grow wide and I faint smile curls itself in my lips. “-a vampire...?”

No answer. He keeps moving behind me with one hand on my hip and the other still holding my arm across my chest. I feel him placing his chin on my shoulder and whispering right at my ear: ‘What if I am?’ I heave a sigh and close my eyes. If this guy really is a vampire... Why did it have to be that! I heard that out of all the Dark Creatures of the world, vampires are the most lethal, powerful and feared of all. I’ve heard loads of scary stories and legends including a few merciless vampires, where they tear their victim’s limb from limb, keeping them alive ‘til the very end. I shudder at the thought and swallow. My body stops its swaying as my limbs go unbelievably heavy.

But gasp as I feel him loosen his grip of my hand on my shoulder and his hand sliding off my hip. A stare with wide eyes before me, expecting the worst: a blow in the back of my head, snapping my head off, biting my neck, dragging me to Gods-know-where...

Instead, I feel his chin leaving my shoulder reluctantly and his warm breath leaving my cheek. I blink away the feeling of utter terror and after a few seconds I turn around. But he’s gone. I part my lips and my shoulders slump in disappointment. I sigh and let my eyes fall on the floor, as I make my steady way through the moving mass of bodies toward the wall once more. But, as I stare at my feet, step after step, I collide with someone. “Sorry-” I blurt without glancing up, and try to round him to keep walking away. But as I try to go past him, he moves and plants himself in front of me. I look up at him as I snap: “Dude! I said I was-” But my words are lost as I stare up at him.

He smiles and flicks a few silver bangs out of his eyes. I stare with wide eyes at the sight before me. ‘Disappointed?’ My mouth goes dry and enables me to talk as I swallow with difficulty. ‘Like what you see..?’ He whispers as he takes one step toward me. I rip my eyes from his deep purple ones and scan his body: Shinny charcoal shoes; black dress pants, ironed to perfection; white button-up blouse tucked in his hip-hugging pants, with puffy cuffs at the sleeves; the blouse opened half way, revealing a perfect pale chest. High check bones, softly pointed ears, thin sinful lips, and narrow shinny purple eyes half hidden by stray silver bangs, and silver hair tucked in a loose ponytail look down at me.

My eyes find his once more as he comes close enough for me to see the tiny darker purple slits in his iris. He stands about six feet something, I guess. I shudder as he places his hand on my sleeveless upper-arm, tracing a finger around the silver dragon. Wait, I thought silver-

‘Many things are told and retold in folk-stories, the truth being drowned away with every set of ears as they retell the tale on their own accord.’ I raise an eyebrow and tilt my head. He sighs. ‘Not everything you here is completely true. Silver doesn’t hurt.’ Oh, right, he can read my mind... Oops... He laughs as he looks down at me. I clear my throat and try to speak: “Why did you come back?”

‘Because you were disappointed that I had gone. That’s what brought me back. You were expecting me to be there, expecting me to do something, but I wasn’t, and I didn’t. You wanted me to be here. And your curiosity astounds me...’ I blush. He is right. I really did want him to be there. ‘Did? You no longer want me here?’ “No! It’s not that! It’s-” He starts laughing as I frown. “And what’s so funny!” I snap before I could contain myself, but I don’t regret it. He chuckles as he raises both eyebrows. “Argh! Stop reading my mind!!”

He laughs even harder as he places an arm around my shoulders. ‘Oh… you crack me up! I haven’t laughed this much in ages!’ I mumble a curse as I pry myself from his touch. ‘Oh, touched a nerve, have we?’ He laughs again as I glare at him. ‘You know... It’s the first time any mortal has ever defied a Cursed One in a long time... Actually, I can’t remember ever hearing of such a thing... You’re special, missy!’ I roll my eyes as I walk away from him, toward the wall. No use staying in the middles of the dance floor for everyone to step one, push, punch and pull if one’s not dancing. I lean on the mirrored wall as he comes up to me with a grin on his shinning purple eyes and stands before me. ‘I have a question for you...’ (“Oh? It’s you who’s asking the questions now?”) ‘If you met a fairy, and he let you have one wish... What would it be?’ He narrows his eyes as I stray mine away form his, deep in thought.

“Umm… I never actually thought of that... Well, I dunno...” I hold my chin, deep in thought. ‘Come now. You humans are always wishing for stuff!’ I glare up at him as he grins. ‘Money? Popularity? The death of an enemy… maybe that guy sitting there by the bar?’ His grin stretches as I mentally curse myself for actually considering the option. “No! Not that! I’m not a materialist kind-a human!” I glare at him once more as his grin widens. ‘But you liked the last option, didn’t you?’

“I’d wish I was a guy!” I blurt out without thinking (I’m doing that a lot lately...) and slap my hands over my mouth.

But it was done. I can feel him tense up as I stare down at my worn boots, biting my lower lip.

I half jump out of my skin as he places two fingers under my chin and tilt my head up to look at him. I let my head rise at his fingers command, but my eyes refuse to look up at him. Noticing this little problem, he lowers himself and tilts his head to the side, locking his eyes on mine. I shut my eyes and hold my breath and I hear him sigh. ‘Eli... look at me...’ He opens his hand and grabs my chin, lightly and delicately wielding my head toward his, as if I was made of glass. ‘Open your eyes, Eli... Why are you afraid?’ I bit back a remark to such comment. It seems my shame is stronger than my pride. He chuckles lightly at this thought. ‘Come now, Eli...’ I can feel him getting closer: his warm breath is against my face, warming my lips. ‘Open them… I won’t bite…’ I feel as his other arm slides behind my lower back, as if I was going to fall. ‘...too hard.’ He whispers at my ear as my eyes pop open and try to push him away with a furious and dignified look on my face. He starts to laugh. ‘I bet, if you could, you’d be breathing fire right now! Like one of them Dragoon guys from Dagrag!!’ “Hilarious.” I hiss as I try to turn away once more, but he holds me still with the arm around my back.

At this I look up at him and notice that he’s serious. I shudder. It’s the first time I see him this serious: His eyes are narrowed, and the purple irises are slits of magenta, and his face is rigid, emotionless. I blink and swallow. ‘About the wish-’ But before he was able to finish, people started to run and scream, making a big commotion. I looks like a riot of vegetarians at the butcher’s. He looks behind him, scanning the crowds as I stand on the ends of my boots, trying to catch a glimpse of the reason of the commotion. I can barely streams of fire amidst the crowds as they scatter around, and people flying about, as if being flung out of the way. As I stare wide eyed with a hint of excitement, I hear, wait, I don’t know his name! He curses and hisses under his breath to himself: ‘Fuck! They already caught up...’ He turns to me and drags me across the hysteric crowd. I snap my hand out of his grip and glare at him. ‘There’s no time to explain!’ He shouts as he flings me over his shoulder and literally flies between the scattering crowds, out the exit. Before the iron doors snap shut, I can barely see the image of tall, looming figures scattering the crowd with what looks like flamethrowers.

And the iron doors snap shut, leaving the dozens of creatures trapped inside with those things.

Sleep... His voice echoes inside my head. Get out of my head! Sleep now... it will all be clear in time... And as his soothing voice keeps echoing inside my mind, I can’t help but feel terribly tired all of a sudden. My sight starts to go blurry as the scene of the club’s parking lot slides by. And then, my sigh grows completely black as I feel myself sinking in the most comfortable and soft surface of all... The softness starts to shake and then, blissful weightlessness.

Authoress’ Ramblin’:

So there. The first chappy! What yah think? Sucked? So-so? Let me know and I’ll give you pocky!! XD

Vocab. mishaps:
Yucks magical creatures, mostly found in mountain ranges. They may be compared with the famous BigFoot, put they have a tendency of getting themselves in trouble with the Forest Elves.
Lillies they are tiny human-looking beings made of light. They live in the deepest and darkest areas of forests. They tend to make themselves visible to those who walk around aimlessly in, or near a deep forest, in need of guidance. But seldom, those who have gazed upon them have come insane, or not have come back at all.
Cursed Ones This is the name given to those immortals referred by the humans as ‘vampires’. This are usually nocturnal creatures and tend to be aggressive. They have been classified as the most feared and dangerous Dark Creatures of the whole N-earth (humans have named the planet after their last home, the other creatures refer to it as Her or The Mother)

Well... I guess that all, ne? Anything else let me know! R&R!