A/N: So... yeah... not dead. Just been having a lot of trouble having time/energy/motivation to write for the past few years. This is the first thing to truly grip my imagination in a long time, so I'm going to stick with this for as long as I can. Hopefully, the next update will be tomorrow (26th October) but we'll just see how it goes.

I hope you enjoy it guys.

Ella

This wasn't going to work.

The voice, though quiet, was insistent with a ringing surety that bounced around the confines of his mind despite his best efforts to ignore it, or, at least, that was the idea. Heedless of his desires, the words refused to fade and Kawahira had to bite back a sigh. In hands, the faint orange glow of the pacifier mocked him.

Administering the Tri-Ni-Sette was a responsibility he had never wanted, never expected for it to fall into his hands, and had never before caused so many problems as it was gearing up to now…

Gathering the elements had been simple enough, with the new generation's sheer power dwarfing that of their most recent predecessors he would have been more surprised if the pacifiers had chosen not to resonate with their chosen hosts. Hell, he had even managed to track down the perfect cloud, normally the most elusive of the set, in the form of an oblivious civilian who bled flames to the point he could almost taste them in the air around him.

With him accepted and all of the other invitations delivered, his job should have been practically over. All he had left to do was inform the new Arcobaleno of the Sky exactly where and when to meet with her new Guardians… so why then was an icy knot of dread starting to curl in his gut?

Normally, given the precognitive abilities of the Giglio Nero Skies and the blood flowing through their veins, Kawahira would simply have to appear in front of them, pass on the time and date of the meeting, then head home. No time wasted on the explanations or pointless niceties that were needed for the elements. The children of Sepira knew their duty.

It was a plan of action that had served him well for centuries only now… he hesitated. The warning ringing in his ears in a manner that was impossible to ignore.

Instead, he now found himself cloaked in one of the strongest illusions at his disposal and following the pregnant Donna as she went about the day, in much the same way that he had stalked all the other Arcobaleno-to-be over the last two years. Even from ten feet away he could feel the strength and purity of her flames soaking into the air around her, not quite up to the standards of the others of this set, yet far stronger than any he had felt in decades. Now if only he could shake off the nagging fear that continued to insist that they were not strong enough.

Ignoring the feeling, and the fine trembling in his hands, he slowly removed the pacifier from the subspace where it usually rested when not in use and allowed the artefact to settle in his palm. This close to such pure Flames, it should have been the matter of a moment for it to flash back to brilliant orange, proving its acceptance of the potential power source…

Five minutes later and still nothing had happened. In truth, he could even imagine that the faint remnant of the last host was weaker now than it had been just that morning.

This isn't going to work.

He could have done without the reminder, and the smug tone that had managed to sneak into his inner voice. He probably should be more concerned about that but for now, he had bigger problems.

I Prescelti Sette. The world's seven strongest Flame users. One of the three components that were essential for maintaining the balance of reality itself… and he was missing the most important part of the set.

Any other rotation and this wouldn't have been too much of a problem. He still had six months to find a replacement for the Sky before the pacifier had to be passed on to a new host. Plenty of time for Kawahira to find another Sky, only… there were no others.

His paranoia regarding this particular set meant that he had already tested every active Sky user, and even the more powerful of the latent ones, before even approaching Luce.

It was the strength of the individual elements that was causing this, he could see that now.

One of the key factors that held each part of the Tri-Ni-Sette together was the Harmonising aspect provided by the Sky Flames. There had to be at least some level of synchronization between the Flames of the set, even if it wasn't a full Harmonization, but the elements of this generation were just too strong. There wasn't a Sky strong enough of holding them all which, in turn, meant there was no Sky strong enough to resonate with the pacifiers.

If the world survived this, he was going to have to change the order in which he did things. This couldn't be allowed to happen again. That being said, this wasn't the first time that such an incident had occurred leading to Sepira… but no. That wasn't an option this time.

What did the humans say about learning from the past?

Still, what was he to do now? What was there left that he could do? With the powerful sources they had already been promised this time, there was no chance that he would be able to convince the pacifiers to accept lesser hosts, but without the Sky element they wouldn't be able to function properly.

To be honest, Kawahira was so close to simply saying 'Screw It All' and simply allowing the world to burn. After all, what was there for him to really live on for?

After Sepira had left, breaking their bond and leaving him alone so that she could live, then later die, amongst the humans. After he had truly become the last of his race… what was there to look forward to other than countless years spent in solitude as the cycle repeated time and again.

It had been so long and he was growing so tired… If the Tri-Ni-Sette was going to behave like a spoiled child throwing away its toys, why did he have to do anything to stop it?

If he just allowed this to happen… if he just let this be, would he finally be able to join his family in the afterlife?

Slipping the artefact into a coat pocket he turned to leave, fully intending to toss it into the first river he passed, only to freeze when the image of Sepira's disappointed face flashed through his mind.

No. It wasn't going to work this time!

If she hadn't wanted this to happen then she never should have left the responsibility in his hands.

She was the one who loved the humans. Not him.

He wasn't going to do this just to make the mere memory of her proud.

He wasn't her guardian anymore. He didn't need to listen. He… was going to have to find a solution to this problem, wasn't he?

Mentally cursing Sepira, humans and the entirety of the Tri-Ni-Sette to the very depths of whatever hell existed, Kawahira took a step back, calling his Flames around him as he moved so that his next step landed him on the dusty wooden floor of his shop.

It only took a few more steps for him to move into his office where he was greeted by seven cushions, all the colours of the rainbow that were mounted on innately carved, stone pillars and arranged in a circle with the orange plinth in the centre. It was onto this one that he dropped the pacifier from his pocket, leaving it to mock him from its throne as he slowly begin to take dust caked books from the surrounding bookshelves.

He had work to do.

3 more hours and the sun would rise.

The words were simple, but he clung to them.

3 more hours and the sun would rise.

Maybe then the wind would die down and the constant chill would finally go away. Maybe then his Uncle would finally forgive him for spilling the bleach on the living room carpet when the fumes had made him so dizzy that the world had spun before his eyes. Maybe then he would finally be allowed back into the house.

He didn't hold out much hope, but even a little hope was better than nothing.

Freak didn't know exactly how long he had been forced to stay out here but he did know that it was too long. With every minute he spent curled and trembling in the damp corner of the garden shed, clinging to the rags reserved for cleaning the windows in a desperate attempt to conserve heat, the little flame that had flickered in his chest for as long as he could remember dimmed.

At first, being locked out of the house hadn't really been a problem. Even if it was late December, he had managed worse before. It had even been fun, to watch the snow fall as the pure white was lit up by the pretty coloured lights that decorated Privet Drive. From here he could even imagine the magic that he had heard parents tell other children of at this time of year, every shifting shadow was the hiding spot for a playful elf and the sounds of the roof settling where the footsteps of Santa and his Reindeer.

The night drew on however, as the temperature dropped and the smells of multiple Christmas dinners first filled the air, then faded to nothing, Freak had retreated to his corner. Now he was curled into the smallest ball he could manage as he just waited for it to be over.

Bad boys didn't get presents from Santa. Useless freeloaders didn't get to ask for kindness. Freaks knew that it was useless to dream of anything better. Even so… it was just so cold. Even though he had endured this before, the little orange flame working to keep him warm throughout the night, it just couldn't manage it this time. A fire couldn't survive without food and Freak hadn't eaten in days.

As it was, the cold that had long since sunk into his bones had shifted to the point that it was beginning to burn, though he still didn't feel any warmer. Instead, Freak was simply forced to lay there, shivering violently as he was burned alive and, for the first time, he prayed.

'Please Mr. Santa, sir. I know that I don't get to talk to you, that I don't get to ask you anything, but I really need your help. I know I don't deserve it, but please let me have a home.

Please. Don't be angry, I know I'm ungrateful, I know I have more than I deserve with my Aunt and Uncle, but the other children get to have a family. They get to be warm and loved and safe… couldn't I have that, even for a little while?

I promise I'll do as I'm told. I'll do all my chores, and I won't make any mistakes so please Santa… please…'

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut and clasping his hands firmly to his chest, Freak prayed, over and over again, but every time he opened his eyes, he was still greeted by the same sight as the time before. Nothing changed and, at just 2 hours before the sun would rise, he stopped.

With the fire building in his arms and legs he finally gave up and just allowed himself to fall limp on the rotting floorboards as the flame in his chest all but went out. Such a pity, if he had managed to stay awake for even half a minute longer, he would have seen the indigo flames that reached from the ground to cradle his own.

As the boy slept, these new flames petted and stroked the tiny orange spark in their midst, slowly coaxing it back to life before wrapping around them completely as they began to pull.

Glimmering with something both dark and ancient, the indigo flames flared to a brightness that flooded the tiny shed before quickly fading away, leaving behind an empty shed and a tide of chaos that would wrack a country for years to come.

When he had first found the ritual hidden in one of the oldest books of his library, Kawahira had been sceptic. If such a thing had been possible before, then why had Sepira seen fit to abandon him instead of using it herself? Had she not known or had she simply been that desperate to get away?

No, she had never been the most patient of people, with a bleeding heart five sizes too large for her chest. It was likely that she hadn't even bothered to look for an alternative solution once she had figured out that she could fit the role.

Still, how was he supposed to trust a ritual that promised something as vague as 'an answer to your prayers'? Desperation, it seems, is the answer to many questions.

For something that had the potential to be so powerful, it really hadn't been that hard for him to gather all the necessary items, though that could be because of his fascination with what the humans so irritatingly dubbed 'useless antiques'. Still, it had been with a month to spare that he had finally placed everything into the ritualistic circle that he had made sure to draw to exacting standards, and began feeding his flames to where they were needed.

At first it had seemed that nothing was happening, the circle had simply drained his Flames at an alarming rate without giving him any sign that it was actually doing something with them but, just as he was about to wrench himself away, he had felt it.

If he hadn't been so focused on his Flames, he would have missed the tiny, barely there spark of Sky Flames so pure that they made his teeth ache. But he was, and he didn't, so instead of pulling back, he forced more of his Mist into the circle, grabbing a tight hold of the alarmingly weakened Sky and pull them to him.

He had been forced to abandon his first attempt as his indigo Flames threatened to smother the orange ones in their hold, so fragile and weak it was like gripping a hummingbird's wing. Then, some hidden remnants of his old Guardian instincts, long ago left for dead, must have flared to life as he found himself gently soothing the baby flames while slowly feeding them his own in an attempt to keep them alive. It had actually been much harder than he had expected to ignore the gentle call of Harmony that lingered in these Flames, weak as they were, but this would not, could not, be his Sky. Instead, he had only stoked the foreign Flames to the point that they would, probably, survive the trip, before yanking them harshly back towards himself.

A freezing weight landing in his outstretched arms was enough for Kawahira to open his eyes, only for him to close them again in something akin to resigned horror.

A child.

The ritual had brought him a child. One who couldn't be more than six years old at most.

A child who was far too light, yet sat like a block of ice in his arms as the pacifier shone brighter than he had ever seen it manage before.

Absently, he began to rub his hands up and down the arms of the baby Sky as he began to take stock of the situation.

The ritual had worked, at least. It had definitely brought him the answer to his 'prayer' with the little boy with too pure Flames and a strength that couldn't be denied even in their weakened state. But at the same time… how was he supposed to get the rest of the Arcobaleno to accept such a young and, frankly broken, boy as their Sky?

Broken.

The more he looked at the little human in his arms, the more the word seemed to apply. Even disregarding the boy's temperature, which was so far beyond hypothermic it wasn't even funny, the boy was in a bad state. There were bruises scattered across all visible skin and the slight rasp on each breath spoke of infection if not internal injuries. Whoever had held custody of the boy before had certainly made a mess.

Would it even be possible to keep him alive long enough to tie him to the curse?

His thoughts were interrupted when the boy stirred slightly, the shift of his freezing head to rest against Kawahira's bear neck enough to make the Earthling jolt back to reality. As distracted as he was, it took a moment for him to realise that there was a pair of hazy verdant eyes blinking up at him. Truth was, he probably wouldn't have noticed even then if it wasn't for the soft question all but breathed into his ear.

"Santa?"

Even in that one word he could hear the trace of a lisp and with those green, green eyes staring up at him with such hope… gods above this kid was adorable. And the Sky attraction…

Shuddering, Kawahira attempted to shift away even as his treacherous Flames fought to bring the boy closer.

No. This was not his Sky.

But, perhaps… if Kawahira played his cards right… he could be the Arcobaleno's. Yes. This would work.

He hoped.