Disclaimer: Please note that I do not own the Gundam Wing characters. However, the literature is mine. This story was originally written for a different fandom but I have decided to rewrite it for the GW fandom. I hope you can enjoy the story for what it is and I definitely welcome any constructive criticism you may have.

Main Pairings: 1x2, 3x4, 13x5

Rated: M

Warning: AU, Dark, Angst, Romance, Lemon

Strong Warning: Initial Non-Con for 13x5 but will ultimately be Con.

Mysteria: Myth of the Siren

By Solo's Cry (soloscry)

Prologue

Once Upon a Time… in a land far beyond our imagination… lived a beautiful siren… his skin as pristine as the pearls in the sand, his hair as auburn as the rays of the sun... his voice as light and melodic as a gentle flute in the haven of a forest...

But despite the warmth of his physical appearance, his ice-cold heart throbbed for no one. His hypnotic tune was continuous and singular with only one purpose. It traced, tailed and searched for only one.

The One who could lift the curse.

The siren's stunning violet eyes saw only darkness… a spell cast by the jealous Sorceress of the West:

"Duo, Siren of the Mysterian Seas, will forever see nothing but an empty darkness… be tortured by the feeling of a void unfulfilled and endure the pain of being shielded from the world that he holds so dear. This spell can only be lifted by the cleansing of the One's blood-stained hands. Until this pathetic siren can prove his worth to the creatures of this exquisite earth… May he rot beneath his beauty for eternity."

Chapter I

Nervous murmurs filled the hall as dozens of confused eyes darted around the long table in an attempt to pinpoint who may have called the urgent gathering.

No one appeared to know what was going on.

The hall grew quiet when the heavy double doors to the hall suddenly shuddered. The air grew tense as the doors swung open, revealing a silhouette of what appeared to be a decorated soldier.

Upon recognizing the identity of the mysterious figure, the confused eyes of the council turned fearful. Their collective gasps made the young soldier's cobalt blue eyes glint with mild annoyance and he began to move forward into the room. The smooth black leather of his combat boots added grace to his purposeful steps.

The councilmen's eyes drew downward to the long table, unwilling to meet with the young General's eyes.

Each back stiffened further as the General's two loyal companions followed closely behind him to the front of the hall, the polished gundanium surface of their swords glinting menacingly in the dim light.

Even through their fear and anxiety, the councilmen felt it. The energy. The magic.

"I am Prince Heero Yuy of Dakria." The General's voice was shockingly rough yet regal and refined. His fierce reputation as a commander on the battlefield made his introduction unnecessary. The council knew this day would come. The day a son of Dakria, the great kingdom of the seven luminous moons and the motherland of the greatest militia, would pay them a visit.

They did not know which son the Dakrian Kingdom would send but the councilmen knew that the identity of that son would predict their kingdom's future.

Before them stood Prince Heero Yuy, the second son to the royal throne. Known by the kingdoms as the ruthless, resolute and stoic General of the Dakrian Militia. His youthful and handsome features did nothing to ease the seriousness of his grim expression.

The council's chief stood up, his hands trembling, "Prince Heero," he gave a slight bow, "What troubles have brought you into the heart of our lowly kingdom?"

Heero's sharp gaze shifted to the elderly man, "Do you not know the reason why I am here, Lord?" Heero's hard blue eyes suddenly glazed over, turning into a brilliant dark onyx.

The cold gundanium steel sheathed to Heero's side began to glow. The Sword of the Grieving Dead, a swprd as infamous as its wielder. The shining surface of the weapon revealed images of the souls it massacred, the blade holding captive every person slain by its master. The screams, the wrath, the sorrow... all captured neatly within its thin metallic wake waiting to be unleashed in the midst of battle. The spiritual energy trapped inside the sword is manipulated beautifully into a fatal attack. In one sweep, the energy annihilates everything it touches. In the returning sweep, the energy rips the escaping souls from the dead and into the sword's core for later use.

The weapon has only ever known one master. Every other candidate succumbed to madness. It was said that the General mastered the sword at an early age, emptying his mind of inner thoughts and surrendering himself to the external forces of nature. The Zeroing Technique. As a consequence, the General now possessed an incredible power…

Something in the air changed. The heat of the Prince's gaze burned and the man's eyes watered from the pain. His throat tightened from an unknown force and he choked. His hand came up to hold his neck in pain, "Please… have mercy…"

Heero's eyes narrowed, "Mercy?" He lifted his hand towards the elder man and tightened his fist, his mind wielding his faithful element, Air. The elder felt the invisible hand tighten around his throat, pushing the bones of his neck inward.

He gasped for air to no avail. The air around him was compressing his body, squeezing his brittle bones tightly together. He tried to speak but he could not. His watery eyes pleading for leniency.

Heero's eyes slowly analyzed the anxious council as the man noiselessly flailed. Time seemed to drag on forever before the General gently lowered his hand.

The man crumpled to the floor with a sickening crack. An ominous swirl of light emitted from the body, seeping into the hungry sword sheathed at Heero's side.

The council watched with tightened jaws and clenched fists.

Heero smirked, "Anyone else want mercy?"

No one dared to speak.

Heero turned his head to the right and sharply addressed one of his companions, "Captain."

"Sir." The Captain saluted sharply.

Heero leisurely straightened his uniform, "I have other matters to attend to."

The Captain acknowledged Heero's words without changing his expression, "Everything is taken care of here, General."

Heero faced the other man to his left and gave a quick nod, "Lieutenant."

The Lieutenant gave him a crisp salute, "Sir."

Heero walked past the trembling council members and out of the doors without sparing any of them another glance.

The Captain shifted, taking the General's abandoned position, bringing the council's attention back to their dangerous situation. The council watched the younger pair in front of them with a slight twinge of panic. Both of the General's companions were tall, towering above them.

Though neither the Captain nor the Lieutenant looked as hostile as Prince Heero, they both radiated an aura that did not bode well. Their eyes showed far more experience than anyone their age had the right to have.

"I am Captain Treize Khushrenada of the Dakrian Militia." His piercing blue eyes scanned the room, memorizing each face.

The council straightened against their chairs, their fate somehow evident now. The Captain had a peculiar (and frightening) reputation of being able to recite the name of every person he killed. No one knew if it was for penance or if it was a sadistic way to keep count of his killings.

They have worked for decades as the High Council of the desert kingdom of Soran and yet they felt powerless against these young warlords from Dakria.

The Lieutenant did not speak, settling a heavy emerald gaze upon the men as his superior stepped forward. His face remained expressionless.

"Would anyone care to enlighten us… as to the location of the Princess of the Astrologan Kingdom?"

An unexpected topic at best, eyes widened throughout the room.

Treize's hands flexed and relaxed, his broad shoulders tensing.

When no one volunteered information, the Lieutenant sighed softly beside him, "Captain?"

Treize looked at the council grimly, "Proceed."

The Lieutenant laid a hand gently on the hilt of his sword. His intense gaze tracing each member of the council, searching.

He moved slowly around the room, his long legs pulled out his strides. His movement resembled a lion stalking its prey. Moments dragged by before he stopped in front of a trembling man sitting at the center of the table. He unsheathed his sword slowly, the sharp sound of the metal scraping against its scabbard forcing the councilman to break out in cold sweat.

The beautiful one-of-a-kind blade swung neatly through the air and pressed against the man's cheek.

The room was deathly quiet. Eyes watched, breaths hitched, and bodies stilled. Waiting.

The Lieutenant's emerald green eyes glazed over, his pupils turning into bright amber and spreading until it engulfed his dark irises. The silver blade that was pressed against the man's cheek turned a bright red-hot orange. The man whimpered as the hot iron sizzled and branded his flesh. His sweat trailed down his forehead and dripped onto the blade, instantly turning into steam.

The quiet Lieutenant's eyes were a luminous auburn as he summoned his element, Fire.

Treize allowed his sight to line up with the guilty man, his own eyes beginning to glow, "Where is Princess Lucrezia Noin, councilman?"

The man felt his life force move, fighting against the blade laying flat against his cheek. The blade glowed and pulled. He began to tremble from the pain... He could feel his soul slowly detach from his body, thread by thread, surrendering to the agonizing numbness and the burn… He stammered, "T-this… this c-can't be…" Could it be possible that these two have also mastered the Zeroing Technique?

Treize's patience wore thin, "Lieutenant Barton."

The Lieutenant immediately took a step back, his sizzling blade tearing away from the man's burning flesh.

Treize lifted his palm, his glowing blue eyes crystallizing into a sharp azure, summoning his element, Water. He watched in sinful delight as liquid filled the man's lungs from the inside, his screams turning into gurgles, water streaming from his lips. After a few seconds, the man slumped against his chair, drowned.

The Lieutenant's sword greedily fed on the fading soul, savoring its taste. Lieutenant Barton's soft voice was so quiet that only Treize heard him, "Stale."

Treize closed his open palm, his bright azure eyes turning back to normal, "I wonder how useful that pathetic soul will be in battle. But energy is energy."

Lieutenant Barton sheathed his cooling blade, the sharp clink of the weapon causing chills to run up the councilmen's spines.

Treize headed towards the door, his voice deep and commanding, "That is the only warning you will receive."

The Lieutenant swiftly followed his Captain out of the door, his knowing smile effectively hidden behind the elegant fall of light brown hair.

.oO{ }Oo.

An enthralling harmony filled a beautiful cave in the South, echoing serenely off the brilliant pearls and seashells covering the walls. The soft powder-like sand cushioning the ground did little to dampen the sound.

A lonely sailor followed the sound deeper into the cave. His light-gray eyes wide and fogged… his mind hypnotized by the gentle, smooth voice...

A sharp, piercing sound of a violin snapped him out of his reverie. He jumped back as a beautiful blonde boy appeared before him. A crystalline violin cradled neatly under the boy's chin. Without regard to the sailor, the boy brushed his crystal bow across the strings, an ensnaring melody emitting sweetly along with the elegant voice in the background…

The sailor felt his muscles relax against his will and he slowly slumped onto his knees in the soft sand.

He could hear another...

The sailor felt his mind fog once more, surrendering to the hypnotic music… his vision blurred as he saw another black-haired figure perched on a pearly rock, playing a crystalline flute…

The harmony was engaging… each sound was like a voice… whispering into his mind… and he tried in vain to concentrate… What is it saying…?

He slowly slipped into unconsciousness when the words became clearer…

Are you the One…?

Quatre pulled his violin away from his chin, glancing down at the sailor passed out cold against the cool white sand. He raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think he's it," Wufei walked over to the man and nudged him with his foot, his flute held limply in his slender hand.

Quatre sighed, "Obviously. I know for a fact the One isn't that weak." He replaced the clear violin under his chin and pulled his bow sharply, the sound encased the sailor and lifted him off of the ground.

Wufei placed his flute against his lips and played a high tune, the sound returning the man to the surface and out of their cave hidden in the Mysterian Sea.

Quatre crossed his arms, sitting down on a crystalline stone, "When are they going to show up…?"

"I don't know," Wufei looked at his flute, "But until then… we must train our sound. The prophet said… that the One has two powerful companions…"

They both looked deeper into the cave, their expressions light. Quatre smiled, "Well… if that's the case… would you like to play a tune with me?"

Wufei brought the flute to his lips again as an answer. Quatre grazed the strings once more, his arm movement smooth and fluent.

A beautiful voice continued to sing in the background unaffected… the melody stretching as far as it could… to reach the ears… of its intended.

End of Chapter I