Home is Where the Heart Is

AN: More mature. TYL! Characters are a little bit OOC. Have fun~ This might turn into a series…! :D

Tall pine boughs scraped against the blue sky, their tall form standing ever so proudly. Green needles arched gracefully, their delicate forms casting a feather-like fringe onto the white clouds. Delicately spun rays of bright sunlight filtered through the trees, giving a golden look to the mossy green carpet underneath. Trilling laughter floated from between the trees, bestowing a fantasy-like feel to the whole scene. Pale hands darted from behind the rough wooden bark of a nearby pine, beckoning to one unseen as a pale face winked in and out of gaps between foliage. Lips as red as cherry upturned at the corners in a dazzling smile; while eyes as amber green as jade twinkled with merriment. The figure floated joyously from patch to patch of sun-covered mushroom rings, the ones which the old superstitious folks back in town called fairy rings. They enchant you away! The warnings are clear in mind. Singing a wordless tune, the lithe figure spins charmingly, dazzling in the sunlight. It's as if the very plants next to him leaned closer, spellbound, if not to hear more of the beautiful melody. His voice was smooth and flowing, powerful yet comforting. It could tame the fiercest of the great cats, but calm the moodiest of animals. It was binding, like steel silk. Garbed in garments fit for royalty, one only had to wonder if he did have some kind of noble blood in him. Soft, yet chiseled, his features were as noble as the ancient trees around him, yet childlike in a beautiful way. His enchanting eyes slanted upward like a feline's, his facial structure was narrow and sleek, while his cherry red lips were soft like down feathers. Running up one's eye up, one could feel his blood run cold when they caught sight of his ears. They were tapered to an elegant point at the ends. An elf. The ones that flitted at the edges of every folktale, the ones that enchanted beautiful human babies away and left a defunct one of their own, the ones that were stunning, but deadly. Such was one now. They were rarely seen, often hiding in their own hidden cities in the dead centers of the lush, emerald forests- parts that were often inaccessible to most. A lucky adventurer might venture accidentally upon one of their hidden cities, basking in their glories. They never came back.

Soft footsteps approached the ring of sunlight where the elf was singing. The elf paused, the tips of ears twitching slightly as he stood, the magical spell of his voice broken. The melody faded away into the darker recesses of the forest. Turning lightly on his toes, the elf fled for the shelter of his trees, deep into the forest. Soon, another entered the clearing. This one was dressed in a common hunter's outfit, dull greens and grays allowing him to blend into the forest. Soft, muddied-yellow leather boots encased his feet, while a dappled cloak lay across his broad shoulders, pinned in place by a large, bright orange-yellow topaz brooch. But concealed underneath the large cloak that reached to his toes, was the glint of metal. Metal bands were strapped to his arms, fueling them with a strange power. Perched on his brow, was a red striped Native American style headband, with a large blue-tinged white feather stuck jauntily into it. His short silver hair surrounded a tan face with a crisp white bandage stuck across the bridge of this nose and a thin scar running down across his left eye, coming to a rest at his cheekbone. This was offset by bright olive eyes, burning with unspeakably vast amounts of life energy in them and the determined set of his face. Trudging determinedly through the forest, he inspected the patch before him with the practiced ease of millennia, maybe even more.

I will not stop, not until I find him…

Inspecting the patch of emerald clovers before him, he saw what he deemed precious information and nodded contentedly to himself a few times. Standing up, he set off a dogged pace, only taking the few occasional breaks for food and water from the knapsack concealed on his back. Trudging through the forest, he neared upon a place where the locals said never to approach. Stumbling across an ancient tree root that was handily placed right there in front of his foot, he chanced upon a hidden pool. Clear pure water sparkled under the sunlight, beckoning at him to quench his thirst. He knew better. He had not been traveling for millennia without learning a thing or two about these particular forests. His olive eyes narrowed, while he abruptly stood up and threw something in the pool. When the dead leaf touched the pool, it sank abruptly to the bottom, disappearing, even though the water was pure as crystal, a trail of ominous bubbles slowly bursting up from the spot. His suspicions were correct.

"Show yourself!"

He was answered with a girly giggle. A pale head emerged from the water, emerald green eyes batting long lashes under curly golden tresses fanning out, a pale slender hand covering her coral pink lips. Rising out further, it appeared that she was only covered by her hair, but she did not seem ashamed or bashful at all. Instead she grew more confident, flapping a hand covered in shells and other jewels of the water. Her slim pale body rose out; she could've been completely human if not for the sickly green tint to her skin, the pale, translucent webbing between her toes and fingers, a row of pulsing pink gills on either side of her neck, and the white fangs and claws that flashed underneath the waning sunlight. A nymph.

Just great; really what I needed right now…

She giggled once again, as if she could hear his thoughts.

"Why not stay a bit sweetie? I could provide more than enough entertainment for someone for you…"

The man decided that her so-called seductive fluttering of the lashes just called for unnecessary annoyance on his part.

"No thank you."

Immediately, her face turned ugly. It contorted into a revolting grimace, showing off her fangs which were dirtied with old blood, human blood.

"Well then I'll just have to force you!"

She screeched out of her throat, making him cringe with distaste from the horrible clashing sounds in his ears. Launching her rapidly transforming body at him, he side-stepped as she spun wildly, landing on all fours. Her golden hair had turned lank and damp with mud, stringy like straw while her body was covered in scratchy, muddy green scales, her eyes dulling to a mud brown, growling something feral from underneath her soiled fangs. Her claws dug into the earth, furthering serving to dirty them and her opponent noticed that all the dazzling shells and jewels that the nymph had once wore had transformed into slimy seaweed and all matters of creepy, crawly, slithery creatures from the waters deep. Even better, a tainted nymph. One who had been touched by the darkness did not belong in such a beautiful pool of water like this. He glanced behind him, startled at what he saw. Water had turned to grimy sludge, the charming vegetation turning into nameless slimy goop. A manically grinning skull smiled its deathly tune atop of a wooden pike stained with the blood of thousands in the middle of the pool. Sunlight didn't even enter the clearing anymore, the twisted trees blocking the cheerfulness. Even after a few thousand years of traveling, one still does not get used to death, the man thought grimly.

Illusion, eh? She may not look the part but she is powerful…

He drew back his fists. The thousands of years that he had been on the dusty road traveling weren't for naught. He had picked up a few tricks on the way. Arcs of sizzling energy raced across his skin, drawn to the metal bands. The energy amassed awaited for its turn to be released and that moment came when he struck down. She shrieked as the energy coursed through her body, the clinging mud on her skin amplifying the force. For a few moments, she held on. However, the power was too much for her to bear, causing her to fall limp upon the ground, smoke rising from her skin. She slowly dissipated into gray sludge that oozed through the ground, before sinking into the shadows. But that was not before he caught the strange twisted mark that appeared for a split second when the evil was overpowered.

That strange symbol again…

For every passing year that he wandered, he had glimpsed this strange mark increasingly as the tainted regions grew and grew. Strangely, when he got closer and closer to his quarry, the twisted mark amplified in frequency, serving to distract him as his prey put as much distance as he could between in the allotted time. However, it seemed that even the one he was tracking did not know himself why the shadowy mark was protecting him.

After a few hundred years of seeing the mark, they had become more and more visible. Each time, the form grew more and more definite. The first time he saw it, it was only a hazy smudge in the corner of his eye. However, this time, the shape was distinct. The hunches he had in the back of his mind came true; the mark was in the shape of a wriggling chameleon. But what did that shape signify? He was about to tear his hair out with frustration. Tracking the sign had proved no good; it only served to confuse him and stray off his well-beaten track. But he knew that whoever was conjuring that mark was behind his roving.

Well, it was enough time for musing. Now was time to act. He had to get to him no matter what. And no matter what the consequences.

The elf sprinted through the forest, his feet a blur against the ground. He looked like he was flying, soaring, eating the distance beneath his feet. Was the hunter still with him? It didn't look like it anymore. He slowed down and leaned exhaustedly against a broad trunk. The ancient tree didn't mind, gladly giving him the energy he needed. It wasn't everyday that this particular tree could converse with something; rarely any elves came to him anymore, the tree had said. The reason soon became apparent. Leeching the energy of the tree back into himself, he had been so distracted that it was a child's game for someone to come up behind him and slip a sickly-sweet smelling handkerchief over his nose. He struggled futilely and soon became limp, everything turning dark in his sight. It was a perfect place for an ambush.

The silver-haired tracker from before wiped the sweat from his brow. The red headband he wore contained most of the sweat from spilling over into his eyes, but it was still an uncomfortable damp feeling lingering there. The tracks he was tracing gave him a dreadful feeling; it had appeared that someone else had intercepted the elf before he did and dragged him off. He supposed the part of the forest he was in didn't help either. The twisted trees gave off a foreboding feeling, as if warning the travelers to hurry up and get out; they were near forbidden territory. And right there were. He could sense the presence of the Oscure Terre at the edges of his mind. The warnings were everywhere; the twisted black trees, the absence of all life, and the lack of sound. It was in the air too. He wanted desperately to avoid going there if he could and he thought that the one he was tracking wouldn't want to go there too. He would have never stood for death. But all the signs were pointing this way, so he resigned himself and continued deeper into the borders of the Oscure Terre. A few hours paused and he was unnerved with all the silence around him. A feeling of dread seemed to settle itself in the air. He had never come this far into the borders of the Oscure Terre before. Most of the time, he just skirted the edges of the border. Even the five-mile borderlands of the Oscure Terre were inhospitable to all but the most twisted of minds, who made their evil lairs deep with the recesses of its stone caverns or up among the heart of the twisted trees. The real Oscure Terre was even worse though. The daring explorers that went in never came back. The ones that had skirted the border and the actual Oscure Terre came back babbling nonsense or silent as stone. They were all completely oblivious to the world around them. The most coherent answer that had been said so far was by the earliest survivors: Oscure Terre takes your fears and embodies them ten times worse. It is malavita. This was etched into all the people that inhabited the Earth. Everyone avoided it.

So intent was he tracking his quarry so that he could get out of this Dios-damned place that he practically stumbled upon the place where the tracks ended. He supposed the unknown assailant couldn't have picked a gloomier place. An enormous dead tree sat in the middle of a barren cemetery, grinning skeletons dangling off of its snarled branches. The very presence of the tree was devoid of life. That was not a good sign.

Then, he saw him. His wrists were shackled to the gnarled trunk, slightly apart. His feet were secured snugly to black chains that wound around the giant trunk and bound all across his body, like a crucifix. The captive had his head to his chest, unconscious. He couldn't stop the small cry of shock that escaped him and hurried forward to free him. However, he stopped in the middle of the cemetery, a prickling at the back of his neck warning him of imminent danger. Then he saw the foe. Sitting on the higher of the densely-packed network of roots, the figure practically camouflaged into the shadows in his form-fitting black habit had he not drawn his jet cane. The movement drew his eye to him. With a sense of dread, he realized that on his shoulder rode a shadow chameleon. So here was the one who had left the mark.

"Who are you?"

The question rang throughout the silence. If the stranger had heard it, he gave no sign of it.

"Reborn."

A lesser person would have cowered at the power infused in just the voice of the stranger. Yet, he recognized that power- a wordsmith. It was one of the greater powers out in the world. It dwarfed his in comparison. It was one of those that had remuneration to it; it seemed like this man's was muteness. How ironic. He wasn't laughing though.

"What do you want with me?"

If the mysterious stranger named Reborn was the type to laugh, he would. But in this case, he could sense amusement radiating off the other.

"It has been a long time since we've met again, hasn't it?"

"I have never met you before."

Indeed, it was true. If he had encountered such a person that practically emitted danger, he would have never forgotten it.

"It has been two millennia, no?"

He remained silent; he had no idea what the other was talking about.

"Do try and remember me for old time's sake. Here, I'll even give you a bit of a boost."

The perpetrator held up a curiously-shaped silver pendant, its chain curling around his deathly white slender fingers. It drew one's eyes to it, tracing each intricate curve until it disappeared from sight and you ended up in the same place again. An infinity circlet. Incredibly rare, who knew how much power that thing held?

Suddenly, a pang of a splitting headache entered his mind. Colorful images rushed into his head with vivid clarity. He clutched his head, trying to stop them. They were endless. A refusal. That same infinity circlet in the hands of black-clad peddler. The whisper of cursed words of power through black lips. A slender white hand pointing down at him with the weight of the world. The black lips dooming him to wander for eternity, searching for his beloved, which he had unintentionally dragged into the mess; condemned to chase each other like some slow dreadful game of cat-and-mouse.

"So it was you who cursed us!"

The Reborn person smiled a feral smile. The silver-haired hunter shivered; his smile had revealed chips of jagged, obsidian teeth. They glinted dangerously in the clouded light.

"Indeed."

He braced himself. The time was dawning near.

"Will you still refuse to me?"

He was still asking that question. His eyes hardened.

"No, I will not give him to you."

"I thought more or less."

With a refined slight of the hand, he retracted the infinity circlet back into the inner recesses of his habit. With another graceful flick of the wrist, he snapped. The crisp sound awoke something ancient. Only the most powerful of wordsmiths could control something with just a sound and actually have it do what he wished it to do. This Reborn was the strongest one of them all. He could feel crackling in the air. Then, the captive's eyes opened. Instead of the amber jade color he remembered the other had, the irises had turned a cold orange, burning with the desire to light everything in his path aflame. The bright life-power of the numine bender and the darkness that reeked of death from the wordsmith made an incredible contrast. Reborn regarded the numine bender with onyx eyes.

"Such deadly beauty."

Reborn turned towards him, eyes cold. Immediately, he understood. His beloved regarded his bonds with icy eyes and the chains immediately unclasped themselves from his figure. He too, turned towards the silver-haired man.

"No."

The simplicity of the word stopped everyone in their tracks.

"I will not fight him."

The black-shrouded figure shrugged.

"I was going to grant you a kindness by letting you die in your love's arms and having him join you shortly afterwards, but I guess not."

He threw back his hood and laughed a brittle sound that ground the pebbles near his feet into glass shards. Readying his cane, he snarled.

"You want him? You're going to have to fight me for him!"

Pointing his cane, the shadow chameleon leaped from his shoulder and shifted into a giant Incubo, galloping with hooves of fire. He leaped to one side and assumed a defensive stance. Great. Reborn was a wordsmith that had mastered both the arts of transformation and manipulation of matter. He was probably the only master in the world. The shadow chameleon shape-shifted into a sinister Pantera, claws dripping blood. He dodged that one too. The shadow chameleon could shift into many forms; a fire-breathing Serpente, a flying Leone, a hooded Mietitore. However, he just side-stepped them all; no shapeshifting shadow creature could ever touch a celestial wielder.

"It seems that I have underestimated you."

Reborn observed with cool eyes. He withdrew the shadow chameleon; it settled back onto his shoulders, its beady eyes intent on the opponent. Lifting his cane, he spoke.

"Oscurare."

Immediately, his senses started to dull, his energy slowing down to sluggish proportions. Others would have not known how to counter this brand of practice, but still, he had encountered this form before. Instead of his energy fizzling out, he retaliated. Pointing one fist to the sky, he drew in the sun's energy and conveyed it back to the wordsmith with the strength of a solar flare. However, his opponent flicked his wrist and canceled it out with a well-pronounced word.

"Vuoto."

His energy was eaten up by the void of nothingness. The wordsmith was starting another offense. That was expected in the normal way of how a "users-duel" would go. But he was smarter. Instead, he rushed directly to his opponent, his body crackling with energy like a lightning bolt. His actions, although unorthodox, had served him well during many pinches. Like all the other opponents, the current one wasn't used to this style of fighting. But, he was more skilled than the others. With a graceful leap, he dodged the full brunt of the lightning. However, it had singed that flapping habit of his and was more than enough for the celestial wielder. Calling up on limitless stores of strength, he sent them into the small fire burning the fabric of the habit. Lines of pure, distilled celestial power ran up in lines and condensed onto the cloak. With a curse, the wordsmith finally noticed it and put it out with a hastily-muttered word. Nevertheless he could feel some of his energy draining away. He looked accusingly towards the celestial wielder.

"A celestial wielder like you can't use the force drain."

The celestial wielder shrugged; he felt no need to diverse that information. Readying his fists again, he charged. If they continued on this tangent, it would either end in a blink of an eye or last into a thousand-day showdown. In his opinion, he wanted it to be the first choice; drawing it out would be the worst situation for both parties. He could sense the other wanted it to be over too, as he threw all of his power into that energy-amplifying jet cane of his. Grimly, he did the same, throwing whatever power he had left into his fists. Two forces collided, one of tainted darkness and one of pure light. A soundless boom resonated in his ears. That was the wordsmith's enchantment colliding with his. He flew backwards, hitting a tombstone painfully as his back twisted into it. Swimming white dots filled his vision. He could vaguely hear the crunch of gravel under heavy leather boots. The swooshing of fabric filled his ringing ears as the wordsmith leaned down on his cane and looked at him.

"Is he worth that much to you?"

Licking his dry lips, he breathed in air to speak.

"Yes."

Reborn rose from his semi-crouch and snapped his fingers again. Behind him, the numine bender collapsed; he had been observing their fight the whole time, cold orange eyes unmoving.

"Your determination is admirable."

He bent down and whispered.

"One chance only. That's all I'll give you."

With that last warning, he straightened up and threw something into the air. The pure, undiluted aura of dimensional travel crackled into the arm. The black-leather booted feet lifted out of his vision. Reborn was now untraceable; gone to wherever that dimensional portal led him. He swallowed and summoned up strength from the waning sunlight. Crawling over to the still form of the numine bender, he poured energy into his stiff limbs, cradling him in his arms. Slowly, the figure started to stir.

Cold orange-ochre eyes blinked, and then melted back into warm amber. He blinked once, then twice.

"…Where am I…"

The white-haired traveler could finally release his burden. With a great sigh of relief, he embraced the smaller figure, careful not to crush the delicate build in his arms where it could still touch the traces of energy still lingering in the metal bands. His actions only served to confuse the younger.

"Ryohei?"

He replied simply.

"We're home Tsuna."

The End~

Here's your manual dictionary for the unknown terms. I hope you enjoyed it!

Oscure Terre- literally "Dark Land" (really should be Terre Oscure though)

Malavita- Underworld

Dios- God

Numine- divine will

Incubo- Nightmare

Pantera- panther

Mietitore- reaper

Oscurare- to darken, obscure