(A/N: I apologise greatly, for those who anticipate my other fiction, Swan Bathing In Innocence, to be continued, but alas, I have not been in the mood to write stories of changelings and modern-day masters of shapeshifters. I will be, eventually, I promise it, but for now, bear with me as I struggle to regain my ‘mood’. I bring to you now, something which had appeared, out of the blue: a tale of a young seer and an outsider.

If you are not a fan of instant love, please do not go flaming my fiction. I am not mentioning this because I feel hurt after reading flames, but because I plan ahead. Everything is done for a reason and in the story, later on, all those plans will intersect. I apologise if certain words are repeated more than necessary, the whole thing was written at different moments…

Warning: This fiction contains shounen-ai/ boy’s love/ yaoi/ gay relationships/ mslash etc… If you are homophobic, I do not recommend you to read the following story. Thank you.

And now, without further ado, I present to you, Seraphic Fate, my latest work)

Seraphic Fate

Chapter 1: Fated Meeting

“You come to have your fortune read?” he asked, emerald eyes transfixed on the tip of the quill, watching with mild interest, the grace of the ink drop, seeing the ebony black liquid fall to the paper silently, sinking into the material and spreading out, like a flower in bloom. With his free hand, he held the crimson shawl close around his neck, the top draped on his head like a bonnet. Silently, he paid no attention to the customer just yet, fascinated by the plain quill and the ordinary black ink.

“No,” was the answer he received, and this caused him to give the male a fleeting glance, his curiosity aroused by the sudden entrance of a stranger who had no interest in his fortunes. Then, why enter at all?

“Your hair is like a fox’s coat,” the young fortune teller murmured under his breath, placing away the quill and rolling up the parchment, the series of dots on the paper visible from the other side. “What allures you to my humble tent, dear outsider?” He kept his voice cool, in its usual light tone, as if he was in a different world than others, that he wasn’t fully conscious or he was some sort of magical being, unable to feel humanly emotions. Truly, others were wary of him and his eye colour; green eyes only meant sorcery to them, those superstitious black haired, black eyed people of the village.

“Why do you not write, seer?” the male did not reply to his question, leaving the boy in the dark about his past. Of course, he was a fortune teller, but there are matters in which the boy does not desire to dwell upon. Odd characters have entered his tent before, sinned folk who have slain humans, those who create illusions of themselves to receive pity from the villagers, travelling foreigners involved in questionable occupations; the list could go on forever… He dare not dwell on the matters of others… “You held your quill over your parchment, there is plentiful ink for you to use, the quill appears to be unused, I see rolls and rolls of parchment in your cupboard… Yet you do not write.”

“Is that the question of the answer you seek?” the boy questioned, not seeing a point in making such foolish enquiries. “Do you see pleasure in diving into the matters of others? A dangerous pastime you have, outsider… The people here do not take kindly to those of different colours. I suggest you leave, if you serve no purpose here. I do not wish to see a soul be hurt by the biased villagers…”

“How do you survive, then, let me make another query?” there was the light flutter of a cloak and the man appeared right before him, looking directly into those emerald eyes the villagers were so wary of. He felt a small warmth of a hand at his chin and his gaze was lifted from the ground, into the pale blue depths of the other’s. They were like laced agates, a beautiful hue of blue, as bright as the sky. “If these people are as bad as you speak… How does a lonely rose survive in such a tight entanglement of weeds and vines?”

Rose? Clearly this man was mad! He was not, in any way, comparable to a rose… He was neither beautiful nor was he pleasing; he does not dare to utter a single word, his cheeks gradually growing warmer and a scarlet tint hinting on his pale cheeks. Why was he blushing now? This was not a fair moment to feel bashful!

“I am nothing of which you speak of,” the small utter escaped his pink lips, his emerald eyes wide and filled with innocence, yet a spirited flame was visible behind those jade green orbs. The red on his cheeks remained as he diverted his gaze away, attempting to look away from this outsider who spoke of such things so easily, so casually… “I am not a rose, just a thorned bush that no one dares to approach…” he spoke the truth of himself, what he thought of his predicament.

“In my eyes, you are a struggling flower, desiring freedom and sanctuary away from the entwining weeds, lustful for a world outside this world… I can remove those weeds for you and offer you salvation…”

“We are all men, we desire something in return for kindness…” the young fortune-teller whispered softly under his breath, afraid that someone might overhear their little plot to escape the city. “What is it that you desire from me? Business is not fruitful as a seer and I lack money. I do not have any jewellery to trade with…”

“I require only your loyal companionship…” the traveller said, his voice kind and sincere, as mellow as the gentle breeze in a spring field of flowers, blossoming and waving their colourful heads to the wonderful rhythm of nature. The way in which he had said it, it was truly captivating, in a way, telling you that his intentions were innocent and true and he had spoken no lies so far. It mesmerised the young boy and he gasped softly as his face was lifted up for their eyes to gaze into each other again, having forgotten of the gentle, warm hand on his delicately curved chin.

Uncertain of whether to leave his home, the lonely square in which he worked and his old, rundown tent, the fortune teller frowned to himself, his lips curved so slightly, pursing together to form a pout. Hesitation hinted in his actions, the way his hands fidgeted upon each other on his lap, the way his emerald eyes were begging for something else to look at, the intensity of their gazes too much for the shy male to handle. “Seer,” the voice slid melodiously into his ears, causing his attention to be drawn back to the man; a mere stranger, he knew not his name nor his past, why was there a sense of trust forming within him. As captivating as a wizard’s spell, this man before him, the outsider, seemed much more than what he appeared to be. This was a marvellous sensation… “Seer, do you accept my proposal?”

He bit his lip, reluctant to accept his feelings of faith in this man before he murmured softly, not a hint of regret as he uttered it, barely louder than a whisper. “Your proposal is accepted…” A small smile appeared on the traveller’s young face, lighting up his features, making him even more handsome, the simple sight taking away the seer’s breath as well as his heart. Love at first sight, he had predicted it for many a lady, having seen the future deep in his crystal ball and yet, he hadn’t understood the magic until now. It just had to be false! There was no such thing as love upon first sight!

Yet, here he was, melting under the unnamed man’s gaze as the soft, gentle eyes fell upon him like gauze, caressing him delicately and handling him carefully as if he was made out of glass, able to shatter at any moment. The man’s hand fell from the spot on his chin and he cupped both upon the clairvoyant’s soft palms, his light clutch turning into a careful grasp as he led him out of the tent. The cool zephyr of the evening’s air greeted them, brushing away locks of the boy’s ebony black hair away from his emerald orbs, which shone wonderfully in the twilight that bathed the city streets an the two fated ones. Dispelling all doubt away from his heart, the young boy leaned upon the foreigner’s shoulder, his soft cheek pressured lightly on the secure arm. His gifts spoke to him and they spoke of the man who now held him in his arms. The gifts also spoke well of him; an honest and kind man, he was and he need not worry when he was beside him. A smile bloomed on his lips and the slowly disappearing warmth of sunlight lit up his elegant features. He radiated pure beauty, the young seer did, and gasped softly as the outsider, much taller than him, held him closer to his body.

“I also require your name, young seer…” he murmured softly, afraid to mention it any louder in case it shattered the wonderfully beautiful moment they were sharing. This moment, it was indeed beautiful…

“Seraph,” he whispered his name, feeling the same of cherishing the moment…

This was the beginning of his new life…

A life without the biased villagers to weigh him down…

An Utopia without worries, filled with only the two fated ones…

And their love…

(A/N: This story will remain a oneshot until I get the next chapter up and we’ll see from there. This time, I will restrain myself from begging for reviews and allow my readers to determine whether I am worthy of a review. But, I promise, this story will not be discontinued unless I receive no positive feedback at all…

If you’re curious, the outsider’s name is Jasper.

Jasper and Seraph © by me, Shirotsubasa)