Youth

There are four people in the room at the moment. Four people in the cold, windowless dungeon which is lit only by a couple of torches. It is sparsely decorated, with walls, roof and floor made completely out of dark stone, yet looking a little like a classroom, with the blackboard at the front and a couple of benches facing it. Not to mention the two young boys sitting at the benches, and the strict looking man at the board. They very much resemble students and teacher. The fourth person in the room, a woman, is seated in the corner beside the black board, looking a bit out of place considering the other three.

The man who resembles a teacher is a tall, slender creature with long, chestnut hair and incredibly pale skin. His silky black robes contrast his hair perfectly, and he carries himself with all the dignity and arrogance of a true gentleman. Now, he regard his two students with unreadable, very dark-purple eyes, measuring them up, silently wondering, like all teachers do, if they have done their homework.

"What's the difference between a vampire and a night walker?"

The question is spoken in a dark, melodious and yet demanding voice, and is directed at the boy sitting to the left; a rugged-looking lad with short, messy silver hair and somewhat out-of-focus red eyes. He has tanned skin – a stark contrast to his pale tresses – and a nasty scar covers one cheek.

He's clearly not the book-worm type, and it becomes even more obvious as he squirms in his seat and scratches the back of his head somewhat sheepishly. The dark eyes of his teacher narrow when he starts stuttering an answer.

"Um… We're alive, and um… they're not… and they, they don't… they can't control themselves and, um, we're… we're stronger and smarter and know how to… um…"

"That's enough," the teacher interrupts sharply and sighs in an agitated way which made the boy sink a little further into his seat. Sharp eyes turn to the other boy, who is smirking softly at his friend's discomfort.

This boy is very different from the first one. Whereas the other's silver hair looks like a messy bird's nest, this one's chestnut locks are elegantly combed; not a hair out of place. While the other boy has a shorter and almost sturdy physique, this one is slender and elegant. Even though they are only twelve years old, it's already obvious that one will grow up to be muscular and the other slender.

"Seto, would you please answer my question a little more eloquently?"

Lilac meets blue as the chestnut-haired boy nods with a faint smirk. Aside from the colour, their eyes are almost identical: the same shape, the same light, and the same penetrating glare.

"Certainly, sir. Vampires and night walkers share some similar traits, such as the thirst for blood, the immortality, and the inability to walk in the sun," Seto begins, ignoring Bakura's irritated stare beside him. "But while they have some things in common, there are several more features that separate them. For example; while vampires are living dead, night walkers are actual living creatures. Unlike vampires, night walkers can reproduce; they have a beating heart… and a soul. Night walkers are not ruled by their bloodlust like vampires are."

His teacher doesn't exactly look pleased, but his stare seems to soften somewhat.

"Good. Elaborate."

"According to the legends… when the God of Light created mankind, the King of Darkness decided he wanted children of his own, and so, he created night walkers; our kind. We are just as alive as humans are, but contrary to them, who can walk in both the light of day and darkness of night, we are secluded to only the later. In return, we are granted a much longer life, provided that… we are not killed before our time."

"Very good, Seto," Teacher now turns to the other boy again; clearly merciful enough to give him a second chance. "Bakura, how come vampires and night walkers are so much alike?"

Clearly, this is a question the silver-haired boy knows the answer to, because he sits up a little straighter, and this time there is no stuttering in his speech.

"Night walkers are often called True or Elder Vampires, for the simple reason that we're the ones who create vampires in the first place. A vampire is born if a night walker drinks a human's blood without giving his own in return. The human looses his soul, and is reborn in the form of a dark creature, which is driven completely by its bloodlust."

Bakura sits back smugly, folding his arms over his chest, and Teacher nods in approval.

"Good. And what happens if the night walker gives his blood in return to the human he or she just so happens to drink from?"

Bakura seems to be on a roll now, because he answers this question as well without hesitation.

"If a night walker gives his blood in return to the bitten, the human is turned into a half walker, or a so called 'vampire with a soul'. Half walkers loose their ability to walk in the sunlight, but in return get the gift of immortality… and the curse of the bloodlust. But unlike the vampire, the half walker can control it just like an Elder."

Teacher almost smiled a little – a sure sign that Bakura has gotten it right – and puts his hands behind his back in a superior-like gesture.

"Correct answer, but you need to work on your formulations," he turns to the black board, and don't see Bakura stick his tongue out, or Seto rolling his eyes. "However, even a half walker can loose themselves to the bloodlust if their turner is not there to guide them through the first stadiums of their new lives. There have been cases where half walkers have turned into vampires because their turner hasn't been there to guide them, or was just a horrible teacher. Also, half walkers are, much like vampires, unable to reproduce, since they had to die in order to reach their new lives."

Here, his eyes flicker to the woman in the corner. She is a raven-haired beauty with a thin face and ocean-blue, intelligent eyes. Even clad in an elegant blue dress, she cannot hide the tell-tale bulge of her stomach, which she is constantly stroking lovingly, even though she holds a novel in her other hand and seems to be completely engorged in it. The teacher's eyes soften on her, but then he turns back to his students and the hard gaze remains unchanged.

"Let's for a moment pretend that my wife had not been a night walker such as myself, and instead been a human girl whom I had been forced to turn into a half walker," his gaze slide to Seto and stays there. "Had that been the case, she would not have been able to give birth to my son, nor his younger sibling, whom she is currently carrying."

The other two nod to show that they understand, and Teacher continues:

"The two of you will also encounter a situation one day, when you will have to choose a life-partner. Is it a night walker like us, the procedure is usually quite simple. However, should you find that your lover is a human, there are many things you must take into consideration. Not only their feelings about being turned into a half walker, but also what comes after the change. For months, sometimes years, you will have to stay by their side constantly, to stop the blood lust from taking control. Only with patience and love can they become free from the urge. Also; taking a human lover means you will be giving up on heirs forever, but oftentimes that is of no importance, as long as you have your lover for an eternity."

He pauses and closes his eyes, as if he is trying to smell or feel something that no one else can. When he opens them again, the dark orbs are gentler than before. His posture relaxes a little; becoming less strict.

"And now I believe this lesson is over. It seems as though the sun has gone down," he states, and both Seto and Bakura straighten in their seats. "You are dismissed."

The boys are out of their seats and heading for the door within moments, and Teacher walks over to his wife in the corner, intending to lend her a hand to get up, even though she doesn't need it.

"Oh, and boys?" he glances over his shoulder, and the two younger night walkers stop on the doorstep. "I do not want you to hunt wild animals in the forest tonight. It is unbecoming for young men of your status, not to mention we do not need to give the housemaids more laundry than necessary." His tone holds no room for arguments.

Bakura looks disappointed at this order, but nods along with Seto as the other boy says: "If course, father," and then they are out the door and on their way up from the dungeons before the older man can give them any more instructions.

Lord Dracul chuckles softly to himself, remembering very well what it is like to be young and powerful and free from all responsibilities.

Lady Isis, his wife and Seto's mother, holds on to her husband's arm and lets him lead her out of the room and up the stairs after the boys at a much more dignified pace.

"Do you dare guess," she asks warmly, smiling at the other night-walker as they reach the top of the stairs, "where they are headed?"

"It is not so much a question of guessing where they are going, my love," he answers with a small smirk, his demeanour changing completely now that his pupils are out of earshot, "as it is a matter of guessing how fast they will get there."

"Indeed," she laughs, squeezing his arm while they walk together through the clean, beautiful corridor towards the entrance-door. "You reckon they will take the horses?"

"Since I forbid them to go through the forest, it is likely. For all their energy, those boys are certainly undiligent; if there is not a lot of running and leaping from one tree to another involved, they do not see any point in walking." Dracul scowls mockingly. "One could almost believe there is something wrong with their limbs."

Isis laughs again as they step out into the pleasant summer-air of twilight.

"Where is he?"

Seto tries to sound unaffected as he sits with his back leaning casually against one of the huge trees of the forest, but he can't quite keep the impatience out of his voice. He studies the two horses standing a couple of feet away, serenely eating the soft forest-moss and paying their masters no mind, but then lets his gaze slide over to Bakura, who is sitting in the river with water up to his waist, splashing away happily in an attempt to catch fish.

"He did say he was going to come here tonight, did he not?"

"Yup," Bakura says shortly, his crimson eyes never leaving the water-surface. "Said he had something special planned for tonight and everything. Dunno what it was, though."

"And you are completely certain you did not mishear? It wasn't tomorrow? Yesterday?"

"Seto, he's late, nothing else," Bakura tells him with conviction, glancing up quickly to give his friend a half teasing, half irritated look. "No need to go all mother hen on him. Pisses Joey off, y'know."

"I am not worried," Seto protests with such firmness and chill that it can only be a lie. "I am merely getting impatient. I have more important things to do than sit around waiting for some boisterous,inurbane villager."

"Well, why don't you get off your fancy ass and leave, then?" Joey steps out of the shrubbery then and directs a murderous glare at his so-called friend.

"Ah, there you are," Seto says, immediately calm and collected again. He pointedly ignores Joey's greeting line. "Are you getting better at sneaking around, Joey? We didn't hear you coming."

"I heard him," Bakura reveals, waving from his place in the water, and merely grins happily when Seto glares for not warning him of Joey's arrival.

"Whatever," Joey rolls his eyes and fold his arms across his chest, deciding for once not to argue with Seto. "Guys, there's some people I want you to meet. I left them in the glade because I wanted to come make sure you were really here first. Now these guys are pretty important, so I want both of you to behave properly, okay? Bakura, that means get out of the friggin' water!"

"Aw!" Bakura sighs in disappointment, but does as he's told nevertheless. With squelching shoes he walks over and leans against the same tree as Seto. The brunette scoots away a little, to make sure he won't get water on him.

"You smell like wet rat," he remarks scornfully. Bakura does a full body shake in answer, and Seto hisses hatefully as his dark-blue tunic is drenched.

"Can the two of you try to behave?" Joey interrupts the argument he can just feel coming, and sends a silent prayer to the heavens at the same time. Once he has made sure the two other boys won't start wrestling (an activity which more often than not leads to blood-spill), he turns around, cups his hands around his mouth, and yells.

"Tris! Duke! You can come here now! Come on!"

Seto raises his eyebrows and Bakura grins as two other human boys, a brunette and a raven-haired one, stumbles through the bushes from a glade close by. They are, just like Joey, dressed in simple brown clothes, and Seto vaguely recognizes them from one of his family's visits in the village.

"Seto, Bakura," Joey says, waving his two human friends closer with an encouraging smile. The raven-haired one tries to smile politely, but the brunet glares suspiciously, so Seto finds it completely appropriate to glare right back at him. "This is Tristan and Duke, my friends."

Seto's scowl deepens a little at that, but he makes sure not to let his thoughts show on the outside. Your friends? YOUR FRIENDS? Aren't WE your friends as well?

"Um…" Duke begins, somewhat hesitantly. One can't blame him; despite their looks, it is very obvious that the two children in front of him are not human; two pairs of eyes glow in the dusk-light, one red and the other blue. That, coupled with the stories he has heard from the older children, sets him on edge. Still, he trusts Joey not to lure him into anything dangerous. "Hi?"

"Hello," Bakura says, still grinning widely as he walks over and holds out a hand for Duke to shake. Joey knows he's just trying to be friendly, but the sad truth is that when Bakura smiles, it usually scares people shitless. "So Joey finally lured you out here to us, huh?"

Duke pales a little at the implication, and Tristan's apparent suspicion grows even more. Joey does a mental face-palm and then quickly tries to make up for Bakura's poor choice of words.

"I thought it was finally time for you guys to meet," he explains, smiling reassuringly at Duke, and putting a calming hand on Tristan's shoulder. "It's kinda bothersome for me to have two completely different sets of friends. Maybe we can all be friends; that way I won't have to sneak out at night, and I might get some time for sleep!"

Bakura laughs along with Joey, and Duke gives a strained little giggle. Tristan relaxes slightly, and Seto remains seated, with his arms folded and a scowl on his face.

"Those…" Duke points to Seto's and Bakura's horses, which haven't moved much. "Those are really beautiful horses."

"Aren't they?" Bakura says with his friendly, terrifying grin. Before Duke can even shriek, he's grabbed the boy's arm and dragged him over to the animals, clearly believing an introduction is in order.

"That's one's Silver," Bakura says, pointing to the beautiful grey mare. "She's Seto's. And this one…" he pats the brown, much larger and mean-spirited gelding standing next to her with pride, "is Bruno." Another grin is fired at Duke. "I just call him 'Shit-pile'!"

Instantly, the horse gives Bakura's bicep a nasty bite, but the boy just laughs.

Duke glances over his shoulder at Joey with an expression which clearly screams 'Save me, please!', and Joey is quick to the rescue.

"Um, Bakura?" He desperately tries to fend off a disaster. "Why don't you… um… show Tris and Duke how to catch fish? We never catch any when we angle close to the village, right, Duke? But up here, the river's teeming with fish! And Bakura's a master at catching them!"

"Yeah… yeah, why don't we do that?" Duke catches on quickly, and Joey sends him a grateful smile. Much like Bakura, Duke is at least trying, even if he isstill slightly scared of the strange boys. It wouldn't have been so bad if Bakura didn't look like a miniature mass-murderer, but as luck has it… he does. "Do you have any spears, or…?"

"Nope," Bakura says smugly. "The only tools I have are my own two hands, you know? Don't need anything else."

"Wow, really? Hey, Tris! Bakura knows how to catch fish with his own bare hands! He's gonna show us! Come on!"

Joey smiles happily as Tristan is lured away from the tree he had been leaning against (much in the same fashion as Seto, only standing instead of sitting). The blond watches as three of his four best friends walk over to the river, Bakura making wide, excited gestures as he explains the do-s and don't-s of fishing with your bare hands. Even Tristan seems interested now!

Since the three have finally connected over something, Joey deems it safe to leave them alone together for a little while. He sneaks away for a moment, heading towards Seto and plopping down in front of him with his legs crossed.

He glares. Seto glares.

"You could at least try to be nice!" The blond states in an accusing voice, and the brunette snorts.

"Why should I make an effort? They believe I am a freak, either way."

"If they can warm up to Bakura, they can warm up to you," Joey says firmly and unfolds his legs to give Seto a half-hard kick. "Stop pouting and come join us! It'll be fun."

"I am quite comfortable where I am, thank you very much."

"Bullshit! Stop acting like a baby and help us catch some fish! What's the matter? You afraid of a little water?"

"No, on all accounts. I am not in the mood, Joey, so I suggest you join your new little posse and leave me alone."

"Stubborn pig," Joey mutters and stands up, sticking his tongue out at Seto. "Have it your way, then! Sit here and pout!"

Seto watches him march back to the river with dark eyes. His already bad mood grows for every step the younger boy takes, but he refuses to examine the coiling, burning mass in his stomach which flares whenever Joey smiles at one of his human friends.

He will not understand the meaning of this feeling until years later.

A few hours pass, and everything seems to go alright. Joey, Bakura, Tristan and Duke throw themselves into the task of catching any fish, and despite the darkness (which isn't all that bad anyway; during the summer-season it never gets completely dark) they manage to have a good time.

After many failed attempts, Duke finally gives a cry of triumph and holds a wet, struggling fish up into the air with both hands. "I got one! I got one!"

"Hey, how did you do that?" Tristan asks, a little miffed since he still hasn't come close to catching anything. Joey laughs.

"Just keep trying, Tris! It'll come to you!"

"Hey!" Duke says, trying to keep a firm grip on the slick creature, "I caught it. What do I do now?"

"Here, let me help you!" Bakura says helpfully, and before anyone can protest, he's waded up to Duke, put his hands over the younger boy's, and yanked the highest hand violently to the side.

A disgusting crunch is heard as the fish breaks in half.

Joey's eyes widen in horror at the same time as Duke looks like he'll throw up. Bakura just keeps grinning.

"There. Put it on the bank, you can take it home with you."

Duke hastily makes his way up to the bank, and Joey grimaces as he throws the twitching fish down before running over to the closest boscage to puke. Tristan looks both sympathetic and angry, but refers from following to help his friend since Joey is already on his way. Seto watches all this from his spot with a small, spiteful smirk.

After that, Joey and Duke choose to sit on the bank and watch the other two fish. Joey has almost started to hope that nothing else will happen; that his attempt at bringing them all together might just be successful… when the incident occurs.

He and Duke are deeply engorged in a conversation when a yelp from Tristan makes them look up. The brunette has finally managed to catch a fish of his own, but not everything has gone as he hoped. Upon grabbing it, Tristan had accidentally cut himself of its sharp spine, leaving a large, nasty gash in the middle of his palm. Joey can see the blood pouring from it when he holds his hand up in front of him.

"Tris, you're bleeding!" Duke exclaims as if it is needed. Joey is just about to wade out to his friend when Bakura once again appears next to the boy. Joey's eyes widen when he realized what is going to happen.

"Bakura, don't! We can-"

He is interrupted by a scream from Tristan as the silverette grabs his hand, bends over and starts licking the blood away.

The brunette is quick to react; he wrenches his hand out of Bakura's grip and punches the older boy hard in the face with his uninjured one. Or at least… he tries to; Bakura is much faster and stronger, and now he has Tristan's other hand in an iron-grip instead.

"Let me go, you freak!" Tristan yells; eyes wide with fear.

"Freak?" Bakura scowls, clearly offended by the term. "We have to clean the wound, and there's no point in letting the blood go to waste. I'm just trying to help!"

None of this get through to Tristan. The shock of having someone drink his blood, coupled with all the horror stories the older children in the village had told him, makes him see this as something much bigger than it actually is. He tries once more to wrench his hand away, but when Bakura holds fast, he starts yelling again.

"Let me go! Let me go! Don't eat me! You monster! Vampire! Freak! Let me go!"

"Tris, calm down!" Joey is at his friend's side now, trying to calm him. "Bakura, let him go."

Not knowing what to do, Bakura complies; causing Tristan to tumble backwards in the water, regain his balance, scramble away from them and onto the bank as quickly as he can.

"Duke!" He yells, and the dark-haired boy is at his side immediately. "Come on! Let's get out of here!"

"Guys, wait!" Joey is quick to follow, catching up with them by the tree line, where he grabs Tristan's arm. "Come on, Tris, you're overreacting! Let's get this worked out together!"

But Tristan doesn't want to hear it.

"They're vampires, Joey!" He tries to rip his arm out of the blonde's grip. "They drink blood and eat humans! We need to get out of here! I can't believe you talked me into this!"

"If they wanted to eat us, don't you think they would have done it already?" Joey refuses to let go of him. "Trust me, Tris! It'll be alright! If we jus-" He is interrupted by a fist to the face.

Everything happens quickly after that. While Joey tumbles backwards from the force of Tristan's blow, another figure takes his place, and the brunette suddenly finds himself lifted by the collar of his shirt. Mud-brown meets icy blue.

"We are not vampires, you ignorant little child," Seto states coolly, and Tristan trembles in his grip. "And do not ever dare lay hand on Joey like that again. If you do, I will personally find a way into your room at night, and remind you." Tristan stumbles backwards into Duke when he lets him go. "Now get out of here."

The two pale, shaken boys crash through the woods back to the village while Joey gets back on his feet again.

"Guys, wait!" But he already knows it is no use. Joey turns blazing amber eyes towards Seto, who blinks in surprise at the intensity of his anger. "Nice work, asshole! You've ruined everything!"

And then Joey takes off after them.

Bakura and Seto remain standing there by the river as the sounds of the human children grow fainter. After a while, Bakura raises a hand and scratches the back of his head in bewilderment.

"What just happened?"

Seto releases a very inelegant grunt and marches over to Silver and Bruno. Judging by his stormy expression, he is not pleased at all.

"Let's just go home, Bakura."

"Well?"

Seto glances from Joey's stony eyes to Tristan and Duke, who are standing on the doorstep, looking uncomfortable and suspicious. Beside him, Bakura shifts uneasily.

A few days have gone by. It is once again sundown, only this time, the five youngsters are not located by the river, but in the middle of the village. Joey has, in his usual, bossy way, made Seto and Bakura ride straight into the village to make up with Tristan and Duke. This does not cause any excitement in particular; the villagers are quite used to the count and his family making an appearance. Count Dracul is, after all, the Guardian. That does not stop the older children from having some fun on their younger peers' expense by telling them horrifying stories of vampires, though.

Unsurprisingly, Joey has also managed to lure Duke and Tristan out to greet them, despite the fact that they are obviously as unwilling as Seto and Bakura. If nothing else, the two night walkers have to admire their friend's determination. Anyone else would have given up by now, but Joey is determined to make his daily and nightly friends mingle; at least well enough so that he can get some proper sleep.

"Seto," Joey hisses under his breath and his chocolate eyes flash.

The blue-eyed boy folds his arms across his chest proudly, and for a moment it almost looks like he is going to turn around and leave again.

"My actions two nights ago were slightly drastic," he says haughtily, and Joey doesn't now if he should be relieved that he's actually stayed put, or annoyed at his stubbornness.

"In Seto-speak, that means 'I'm sorry'," he explains and sends a small glare at Seto, who frowns back. Joey's eyes now fix on Tristan instead. "Well, Tris? Don't you have something to say as well?"

Much like Seto, Tristan refuses to speak at first, but when Duke puts a sharp elbow in his stomach he grunts a dark:

"I'm sorry I called you monsters."

"I'm sorry too," Bakura hurries to answer, even though he looks like he isn't sure what he is apologizing for. "For, uh… I'm sorry."

They all then turn to Joey, who looks back and forth between the humans and night walkers. He shrugs, as if saying 'Good enough', and then puts his hands together with a sense of finality, while his usual smile spreads on his lips. Tristan, Duke and Bakura relax visibly, and even Seto's shoulders loosen a little.

"Well then," the blond says brightly. "Bakura, Seto, didn't you say Tris and Duke could borrow Silver and Bruno for a little while? Why don't we all go to the meadow and let them take a ride?"

Seto is almost going blue with the effort not to protest. Somehow, Joey has talked him into letting the boys try Silver, but the prospect of two stupid human children riding his gorgeous mare isn't the least bit attractive to him.

Even so, a raging Joey is a very, very unpleasant Joey. He can be forgiven one moment of weakness in the face of that, can he not?

"Is it really safe to go on a ride in the dark?" Duke asks as they march out of town with the horses on either side of their group. Seto silently wonders if his parents are watching this from the castle; it is clearly visible on the other end of the meadow, standing tall and proud on top of a large hill. The thought of his father seeing him being pushed around by a human almost makes him take off in embarrassment; only Joey's steady presence beside him keeps him from doing so. "Won't the horses stumble?"

"They're bred to be used during the night," Bakura tells him confidently. "It'll be okay."

Duke doesn't question it any further; despite their rocky start, he would give a lot to take a ride on the two breathtaking animals: only the count can afford horses like these.

Soon, they have reached their designation, and Silver starts dancing in anticipation as long grass touches her legs.

"Meadow" might not be the best word for the huge, beautiful field which stretches out before them. Standing in it, one has a perfect view of the hill on which Count Dracul's castle is placed. Some nights in his earlier childhood, usually before meeting Joey, Seto used to watch from one of the castle-balconies how the moon reflects on the grass and flowers, and how the lights were slowly put out, one after another, in the town. The narrow road between his home and the Town of Transylvania splits the field in two parts, and in the east the forest begins. In the west, it stretches out as far as the eye can see; all the way to the mountains at the horizon.

Most of the children in Transylvania have wondered at least once what it would be like to steal a horse and just take off towards the west; towards the great river all the adults claim lie at the end of it. When they were younger, Bakura and Joey used to imagine that that was a lie, and instead came up with their own, far more magical explanations of what waited at the end of the land. Seto always found this very silly, of course, but he has promised himself that one day he will make the long journey himself; because even if Joey's theory of a witch made out of honeydew and toads is just downright ridiculous, he can't help being a little curious.

Now there they stand; five young boys - two night walkers and three humans - along with two horses. Duke manages to swing himself onto Silver, and Seto has to bite his lip to keep from hissing when he pulls her reins a little too hard.

"She is a very sensitive horse," he says coolly instead and tries to convey with his eyes only how bad he will hurt Duke if he mistreats his horse. "It won't take much for her to obey you."

Duke nods nervously in understanding and waits for Tristan to climb onto Bruno (it is a little harder since the animal refuses to stand still... it almost looks like he is intentionally trying to stomp on Bakura's feet as the night walker holds the reins for the human boy) and then they are finally on their way. Joey has promised that they will only ride across the field to the castle and back again, but Seto still keeps a watchful eye on them.

Bakura, who enjoys running as much as he enjoys riding, takes off after them and starts shouting advice as they go. Seto remains in his spot beside Joey.

"See?" Joey tells him and folds his arms across his chest. "I knew we could all get along if we wanted to!"

Seto glances at him and allows a little sigh to escape.

"Joey," he states. "We will never befriend them. Not as we did you."

"Why not?" Joey turns to him, his expression more disappointed than angry. "They're good guys! Sure, they're a bit afraid of you, but with time-"

"It does not work like that," Seto states firmly and the blond deflates than, as if he had known from the start that it wouldn't work and had just been expecting someone to call his bluff.

"Why not?" He asks again and turns back around to watch their other friends, disappointment still evident in his stance. "How come I get along with you but no one else does? How come I'm your only friend? There's a lot of kids in the village; why doesn't it work?"

"You are special," Seto says, and then immediately regrets it. Before Joey can even register what exactly he said, he continues: "I will see how they are doing."

And with a 'whoosh' he is gone, leaving a stunned human in his wake.

Joey doesn't make any further attempts to bring his two groups of friends together after that, much to the relief of everyone involved. At the same time, the nights when he is able to meet up with Seto and Bakura grow fewer and farther in between, partly because he needs to sleep some time, and partly because his father has started to demand his help more often now that he will soon be eleven years old.

The night walker-family cannot help but notice that Seto's been getting grumpier since Joey sat his two nightly friends down and explained this to them. When asked about his sour mood (Bakura has never been subtle, after all), he vehemently denies it, of course, but everyone knows he feels as if Joey has chosen his human friends over them.

That fact (or assumption, really, but Seto believes it to be a fact) has hurt him. And being the proud, inexperienced night walker that he is, this causes him to start even more fights than usual with his human friend, on the few occasions when they do get to see each other. And that, in turn, makes him even grumpier, which causes more fights, which makes him grumpier...

It is an evil cycle, to say the least.

Dracul and Isis may not be very lovey-dovey when it comes to the upbringing of their children, but they are not inattentive and certainly not blind to their oldest son's predicament. Upon analyzing the situation they decide the best way to break the cycle would be by keeping Seto busy as well. And that is how Seto and Bakura this night find themselves eating a moonlit dinner with Dracul and Isis in the large dining hall.

"It is soon time for you younger sibling to be born, Seto," Isis tells him and takes a sip from the glass of blood she is drinking. Her free hand is resting comfortably on her bulging stomach. Bakura lights up at the news, and even Seto looks excited at the prospect of becoming a big brother. He remembers how proud Joey had been when his younger sister was brought into the world.

"I had three siblings before!" Bakura states happily as he cuts a bite out of the raw steak on his platter. "Two sisters and a brother. They were older than me though. Gonna be interesting to see a baby!"

While Seto nods in agreement, the two adults exchange a look.

Bakura was brought to them at a very young age as the only survivor of the Gardierna clan, after a dispute with another clan. The feud had escalated into a bloody battle in the Gardierna household, where Bakura's entire family had been slaughtered before his eyes. It was also during that incident that he had received his scar.

Bakura's mental state had of course been damaged by the ordeal, resulting in a slight detachment from the world around him, as well as some sadistic tendencies. It is nothing which cannot be controlled, though, and overall, he is a good boy. Dracul took him in because Bakura's father was a close friend and cousin of his, and over the years the silver haired boy has become as much of a son to them as Seto. Even if he don't have as much of a read-head.

Pleasant conversations are suddenly interrupted by a light tapping on one of the large arched windows in the dining hall. Everyone's eyes slide to the little black bat that is desperately trying to get through the coloured glass, and Dracul raises an eyebrow at the sight.

"Seto, could you retrieve that message for me?" He asks, and his son immediately stands up and walks over to the window.

It isn't the first time Seto does this, and therefore his hands work steadily as he opens the window and catches the little animal before it can fly inside and get lost in the castle. Holding it carefully, he walks back over to his father and lets the man take the message which is strapped around the bat's belly. While Dracul unfolds the piece of paper Seto lets his captive go, knowing that it will find itself a nice, dark cranny somewhere to hide in for a while, until it is called upon again.

"Bakura, you need to practise your reading," Dracul holds the paper out to the boy, who has almost finished his steak by now.

"Aw, do I have to?" Bakura asks sullenly, and Isis gives him a stern look.

"Manners, young man," she says, and her normally soft voice hides an undertone of danger which Bakura, Seto and Dracul has learned to watch out for. Bakura knows better than to argue with her; still pouting, he grabs the letter and studies it carefully while Seto sits back down, smirking at his friend's misfortune.

"It's from the Vatican," Bakura reveals, knowing that Dracul hates it when he read letters word for word. His guardian wants him to sum up the content and tell it to them; that way he will learn to think while reading. "From Master Phoenix."

Dracul frowns. Phoenix is his younger brother, and lives in the Vatican with his wife and daughter. For many, many years, he has successfully been working to preserve the peace between humans and night walkers in one of the world's greatest power- metropolises. Lately, though, things have been tense between the two species, as fanatically religious humans have come to gain more and more power in the state.

"And what news does my brother bring?" Dracul asks and takes a sip from his glass. Only Isis notices the tension in his body.

"He mentions a few debates in the council; mostly about the new aggressive measures of the human religion Christianity. A new group has taken form within it, and it's claiming The King of Darkness is the source of all evil – the devil – and that our kind are demons. Obviously, this pisses off the night walker-population of the Vatican: a demonstration last week turned into a riot, and four night walkers and twenty humans were killed."

"I thought Christianity was a religion which preaches love, acceptance and equality," Seto, who is well-read in the subject, cuts in and looks to his father for answers.

"It was and is," Dracul nods, "but there will always be men with the ability to twist things completely and change them into something unrecognizable." His deep eyes stray back to Bakura. "Does my brother mention how he and his family are doing?"

"They weren't involved in the riot, so none of them were hurt," Bakura answers after scanning the letter carefully. "But master Phoenix has volunteered to the diplomatic group that will try to clean up this mess. The debate is taking place as we speak." He pauses and reads a little more. "Master Phoenix also says that he's optimistic, despite everything. He's got plenty of human friends in the church, especially bishop Solomon, who is just as eager for peace as he is."

"Bishop Solomon is a very powerful and wise man," Dracul nods, relaxing a little. "Under his leadership, the church of Christ will probably be steered right again."

"Last but not least he sends his regards and hopes that Lady Isis' pregnancy is going smoothly," Bakura concludes, and then gives Dracul back the paper, clearly relieved to be done with it.

"Good," Dracul praises him coolly. "But you still need to mind your formulations."

Bakura makes a face when he is sure Dracul isn't looking. Isis sees it though, and the silver-haired boy shrinks back under her stony look.

"I do not understand why uncle is trying so hard," Seto comments, taking a sip of his own blood. "We are much more powerful than the humans. Would it really be such a shame if we took control of the Vatican?"

"Do not underestimate the race," Dracul tells him softly. "While our strength, speed and intelligence might be superior, the God of Light did not leave his creations unarmed. Their light magic can destroy us as easily as the sun, not to mention they possess an aspiration and cunning which is downright lethal at times."

"Even so," Seto objects. "The Vatican has always been very unstable in its separation of power, has it not? Do you not agree that the only way for such a struggle to stop would be through one of the species finally taking complete control? I'm sure both parts of the council - humans and night walkers - must be aware of this. I for one would much rather the winner was our kind."

"Once you grow older, you can join the council yourself and express these thoughts," Dracul answers, clearly displeased with Seto's opinion. "Play your cards right and you might even be able to make them come true. That is, of course, you are ready to alone take the blame for all the innocent lives that will be lost, should such a plan ever be set into motion."

Seto opens his mouth to respond, but Isis, who can smell an argument for miles, cuts in with something she knows will quiet her son.

"Do you not think your dear friend Joseph would be very upset to hear you speak like this?" She watches Seto over the rim of her glass.

He falters at that, clearly unprepared for such a comeback. Dracul sends his wife a grateful look and then elegantly stands up from his seat.

"I think that ends our discussion, as well as dinner," he announces. "There are only a few hours until sunrise: I am sure you boys have far more entertaining business to attend to."

Seto and Bakura recognize a hint when they hear one. The silver-haired boy stops playing with the knife he has dexterously been throwing into the air, and rise from the table with Seto; leaving the dirty dishes to the maids who will come from the town during the day and clean everything up. While Bakura heads straight for the door though, Seto lingers behind as Dracul walks over to his wife and pulls her chair out. His ocean eyes meet hers, and there is a stubborn look in them as he voices the only comeback he can think of:

"As if I care what that uncouth human thinks."

She looks at him then. There is a strange expression on her face; one Seto will never quite understand. It is a mix between amusement, scepticism, tenderness and affection at his emotional naivety. As a mother, Isis knows her son very well; far better than he knows himself.

He truly has no idea just how much he cares about what his uncouth human friend thinks.

"Perhaps," she tells him vaguely and reaches out to caress his hair and face softly. She is the only woman who is allowed to do such a thing to Seto. "Now run along: I need rest."

Seto leaves without a word, but with a displeased frown on his face.

Why does he feel like he has completely misunderstood his mother's comment?

The boy standing in front of them seems to be Seto's and Bakura's age, maybe slightly younger. Short and thin, with long white hair -lighter than Bakura's silver- and skin as pale as untouched snow. From beneath a thick fringe, large, sad, deep-brown eyes peer at the adults with a mix between fear and interest, and plump lips are constantly pulled down in an unhappy pout.

Dracul knows this child. The body structure, the skin and hair, the eyes and features... there is no doubt in his mind that this boy is a LeClair; the clan which was once one of the largest and strongest in the world, but which has, over the last few centuries, dwindled down to a single heiress and her husband.

The fact that this boy is right now standing on the steps of his castle does not bode well for the name LeClair.

"I do believe an explanation is in order," Dracul remarks and studies the messenger who is squirming nervously in front of him. He knows he is frightening, even to his fellow elder vampires. Much like his younger brother in the Vatican, Dracul is very, very old by both human and night walker standards. His fortress is a small county deep in the Romanian forests and yet his influence is still strong. His clan is even more powerful than the LeClairs, but unlike them, he has actually managed to hold on to that power for the last centuries.

So it comes as no surprise when this lowly half walker shakes in his boots upon meeting his gaze.

"My Lord," he begins with outmost respect. "Although I thoroughly deplore the inconvenience of this situation, I have strict orders from the Vatican. There was simply nothing else we could do with him." The last part was obviously directed at the boy beside him, who seems to tremble in the warm summer-night.

"Know your place, half walker," Isis hisses from beside Dracul, and her voice is like a viper's. "The boy may be a child, but he is still of noble blood. Do not dare speak of him as anything other than that."

The messenger seems to understand his mistake, because he flinches, bows deeply and then apologized first to the child (who doesn't seem to have heard him), then to Isis and then to Dracul, because he is who he is and the half walker is scared shitless of him.

The lord and lady exchange a look, and then without a word Isis steps forth, wraps her own coat around the boy and pulls him inside. The messenger seems to relax at that; while Dracul is like a bear, standing tall and strong and dangerous in front of him, Isis is like a feline, hiding in the dark, sneaking up on her prey and then killing without mercy. In this regard, she is much more terrifying than her husband.

"Walk with me," Dracul says, mostly because the messenger's nervous shuffling from one foot to the other gets on his nerves. He walks down the castle-steps and crosses the courtyard, leading his guest through a gateway into the garden. It is a beautiful garden, groomed by the townspeople by day so that Dracul and his family can enjoy it by night.

"His name is Ryou," the messenger reveals after a moment of silence. "He is the last now living member of the LeClair clan, and he needs someplace to stay."

"So you brought him here?" Dracul's voice is still low and dangerous as he stops among the rose-bushes to study the other. "What of Dartz and Kisara?"

"Have my lord heard of the riot a few weeks ago?"

Dracul folds his arms across his chest. "My brother mentioned it in his last letter, yes."

"Ryou's parents were two of the night walkers that were killed during it. They locked him in his room and defended the door with their lives, literally. He didn't see anything… but I imagine the sounds provide him with more than enough nightmares. There hasn't been a single night when he has not woken up screaming ever since I found him cowering under his bed. Upon hearing of the murders, your brother came to me and revealed that there was already an adopted orphan living with you, so you probably would not mind taking another one in."

Dracul swears uncharacteristically at this and turns his back on the messenger. A few more minutes pass in silence while he thinks about the situation, and his companion stands silently, respectfully waiting for the lord to acknowledge him again.

"The child is not the issue here," Dracul tells him at last, voice low and tense. "We would have to be completely heartless to drive you away after everything he has been through: my wife will see to it that he is properly taken care of and educated."

The messenger relaxes a little at that: it has been a long journey from the Vatican, and he cannot deny that he feels a huge amount of sympathy for the poor boy.

"What troubles me," Dracul continues, back still turned, "Is the series of unfortunate events which have been unfolding over the last decade. Two clans almost completely wiped out within the span of ten years, and their only remaining heirs located here."

"Your brother and I made sure Ryou's whereabouts would remain a secret," the half walker assures his lord. "There will be no threat against your county because of him."

"That is not what I am talking about," Dracul growls and spins around again. His eyes are almost black, and the servant is once more as tense as a bowstring. "Two clans, two powerful, ancient clans, wiped out in such a short time. The Gardiernas had four heirs. Four. Even for such an old clan that is an impressive number! Their survival seemed completely secured."

The messenger remains silent as the lord once more quieten to collect his thoughts.

"My point is," from his tone the half walker understand that this is the most important part of the conversation, "that this quick alteration of power does not bode well for our kind. It is a political setback as well as a social one. And our enemies within the Vatican might very well take advantage of it. I fear for my brother and his family."

"Lord Phoenix and his ladies are doing fine, my lord."

"For now."

Silence settles over them once more, thicker and more serious than ever before. A surprisingly chilly wind sweeps through the garden, making both men shudder lightly. To Dracul, it is a ridiculously obvious bad omen.

And he has never been one to go unprepared.

So, for the next few hours, he quiz his nervous guests about any news, any worrying rumours that have been coursing through the Vatican. When dawn approaches, he offers the man a spare bedroom, and the following night the messenger leaves with a promise to alert him about any other changes in the power-structure. Then, with a herculean effort, he puts the issue out of his mind. Because right now, he has something slightly more pressing to think about:

A young, scared, broken boy.

In many ways, it was a lot easier to take in Bakura than it is taking in Ryou. Bakura was still very young then he came to Dracul and Isis, and his insanity has by no means been easy to deal with. Already at a very young age he had been wild and impulsive, and before Dracul earned his respect and obedience, he scared the crap out of all of Transylvania at least once; not to mention he drove a young Seto to the brink of insanity and back. He has dragged home dead carcases like cats drag home mice, he has come home covered in blood and gore, he has been about to attack humans more than once (even if Dracul's influence has been enough to make people forget that) and he has an annoying habit of drifting off into his own little universe for hours, and once he finally comes back, he has plenty of new plans perfectly mapped out: even more dangerous and/or disgusting then the last ones.

To put it short, Bakura has been troublesome.

Ryou is everything Bakura is not. Almost as educated as Seto, he is well-behaved and quiet, never causing any trouble and always knowing what is proper. Dracul is not surprised by this: the LeClair clan has always been proud of their elegance and manners, and just because he is the last of his family does not mean Ryou won't honour their traditions. He does not have to be restricted by chains to stay in his place, he does not mock his authorities behind their backs and he has certainly never come within a five foot radius of a rotting animal-body.

But, Ryou is sensitive.

He is so sensitive, in fact, that the adults are almost afraid to touch him, lest he shatter into a thousand irreparable pieces. There is a deep sorrow in his eyes; it has latched on to his heart so firmly that it's melted into him. Ryou is his sorrow now, and nothing they say or do can change that. Isis has tried to talk to the boy many times, but whenever she does it always ends with him crying and hiding away somewhere (because even though he's only been living with them for half a week or so, he's somehow managed to find all the best hiding-spots that not even Dracul knows about).

For this reason, Isis keeps him isolated from the other children for the first few nights of his stay. It isn't until the fifth night, when he is still now showing any signs of breaking out of his shell, that she decides that maybe the key to his recovery is interacting with others his own age. Or it might at least shock him out of his apathy: either way is good with her.

Joey is invited to the first meeting as well (because despite him being a human, between Seto's hostile superiority and Bakura's overall insanity, he is the most decent of the three), and she makes sure to sit all three of them down and tell them exactly who Ryou is and what his mental instability entails. She tells them how to act around him, tells them what to do upon introduction; she even tells them how to say his name! After this longwinded explanation, she finally lets the boy into the room.

And from the moment he sees him, Bakura cannot take his eyes off of Ryou.

All Isis' careful admonishments are wiped out of his brain with a carnal, instinctive brain-yell of paleprettyperfectwant.

Thus, he gawks like an idiot while Joey greets Ryou in a friendly manner and Seto acknowledges his existence with a slight nod.

"Hey Ryou," Joey says cheerfully and reaches out a hand, intending for the boy to shake it. "The name's Joey. How you doing?"

Ryou looks at him with shrouded eyes, but the blinks that follow are almost surprised. It is the most violent reaction Isis has seen from him since he arrived, not counting his terrible, recurring nightmares.

"You are a human," the pale boy remarks so softly that they almost don't hear him.

Unnoticed by everyone but Isis (who smiles mentally at the implications), the soft-spoken statement makes Seto tense, as if ready to come to Joey's aid, should he need it. The blond raises an eyebrow in surprise for a second, but then breaks out into another friendly smile and scratched the back of his head almost sheepishly.

"Hehe… yeah, I guess it can be a bit surprising if nobody has told you yet. I've been friends with Seto and Bakura since we were really small. I hope you don't mind…"

"Oh no," Ryou is quick to assure. The boy is well-mannered, if nothing else. "It is just that I have never personally met a human before. My parents…"

He trails off, and Isis knows immediately what it is he is thinking about. Thin shoulders are already starting to shake, while his breathing becomes short gasps. His eyes are wide, empty and wet. Joey is starting to look very nervous also.

"Ryou?" He asks cautiously, and then a keening whine tears its way up the scarred child's throat. Isis is taking a step forward to-

Bakura is just there all of a sudden; in Ryou's face, so close their noses are bumping against each other. His grin is innocent and manic.

"Hello," he chirps with all the happiness of a gay rainbow. "I'm Bakura."

Ryou takes a few steps back and Isis almost drops her jaw in astonishment at the immediate change in his mood. He is surprised, freaked out, confused and more than a little intimidated, but by the King of Darkness, he is no longer breaking down!

"Uh… um… hello," he stutters. "N-nice t-to-"

"Your hair is so pretty," Bakura interrupts, not because he is rude, but because there is something about this boy that makes him feel like a squirrel which has eaten a whole cup of sugar. He circles Ryou with an awestruck and at the same time greedy glint in his eye, and even if Ryou is squirming something terribly, he is suddenly a shy, nervous kid; not a broken victim.

"Uh… thank you."

"You have a really pretty face too. And eyes. All of you is pretty! You know, my sisters were pretty too, but I bet they would've been jealous of you. Vivian always wanted snow-white hair; she said our black and silver colours were ugly. How did you get hair like that? Does it have anything to do with the full moon? Because they tried something like that once, only I told them-"

And it goes on like that. At some point during his rant, Bakura manages to drag Ryou over to the settee in the study, where he then proceeded to talk the newcomer's ears off.

And - incredibly but also delightfully enough - Ryou listens. Gone is the empty shell of a person who seemed to have nothing left to live for, and in its place is a beautiful character who is still scared of, but not completely opposed to the prospect of once more dipping his toes in the ocean we call 'Life'.

Had Isis known what kind of change Bakura could make in Ryou, she would have introduced them much, much sooner.

Somewhere in the middle of all the pointless nonsense Ryou manages to get a first impression of what kind of character Bakura really is. He learns that the other boy is an orphan, just like him; learns that despite the unfortunate turn his life has taken, it isn't ruining the other boy's life. He realizes Bakura isn't entirely alright in the head, but he also understands how good this boy actually could have been, had he had the chance. All in all, it is quite a truthful and endearing first impression, even if he is still a little scared of this creature.

Slowly, despite Bakura's rambling – or maybe because of it – Ryou gains confidence. He feels safe. And a little mended. Joey has taken a seat on the couch opposite theirs, watching the exchange with curious, amused golden eyes, and Isis has left to take care of some other matters, happy with the turn this meeting has taken. Seto has long ago grown tired of the situation and is now lounging on the same piece of furniture as Joey with a book in his hands. He is resting against the armrest with his body turned towards the blond, so that it will be easy to glance over the top of the pages to see his comrade.

The conversation between the two orphans is changing topics now, and Ryou even dares make an input every now and then.

"H-how did you get that scar?" he asks suddenly, looking at Bakura's cheek, where the ugly mark is clearly visible. The silver-haired boy doesn't even seem surprised by the abrupt change of subject away from his long explanation of why he isn't allowed to use belts anymore.

"This?" he asks, pointing at it. A proud smile spreads on his face. "Got it when my parents were killed." Ryou looks absolutely horrified, but Bakura just keeps grinning. "There was this other family who wanted to kill them, you know? And there was a fight, and mom and dad and my siblings were in it. It was awesome! Limbs and intestines flying everywhere, and boy, you should've heard the screaming! I saw it all from the corner mom had ordered me to stay in, and then someone tried to cut my ears off, but I dodged him and ripped out his heart, and-"

He stops talking when poor Ryou throws himself off the couch and runs from the room crying. Joey slaps first his own forehead, then the back of Bakura's head, and runs after him. Bakura is left with a quiet Seto, rubbing his neck and looking confused.

"Huh?" he asks, looking after Ryou with concern shining in his eyes. "What's gotten into him?"

"I think you upset him," Seto answers, not looking up from his book. Bakura's eyes widen in confusion.

"What? Why? What did I do?"

"You're not supposed to talk about ripping hearts out with a person who has just been emotionally scarred by the horrible death of his parents."

"You're not?" Bakura asks, his confusion remaining. "But… but I like talking about ripping out hearts!"

Seto sighs and turns the page.

Three months after Ryou's arrival, four weeks after Joey's eleventh birthday and twenty-two hours after Isis goes into labour, Seto's younger brother is born. He is a pale, chubby tot of a being, with tightly closed eyelids and a tuft of raven black hair on his head. Bakura pouts when he is not allowed to hold him until after Seto andRyou have (Seto because he is the baby's older brother, Ryou because he is much more careful than Bakura, and because the sad boy needs every joyous moment he can get).

It is the middle of the day, and the whole family is gathered in Dracul's and Isis' room, behind carefully sealed balcony-doors that keep any dangerous sunlight from creeping into the room. The midwife – who is a human and lives in the village, but has no problem with taking care of the countess' pregnancy – is still scurrying around, and so is Joey, who stubbornly followed her to the castle when he heard the news, believing he has just as much right to be involved in this as anyone else. None of the night walkers have yet to oppose this, although the midwife does look a little grumpy about it.

Isis is sitting up on the huge queen sized-bed with her hands resting on the dark-green covers, looking beautiful, tired and utterly pleased with herself. Dracul has not removed his arm from around her shoulders in hours. Seto sits beside the bed with his new sibling in his arms, and even though he's not really smiling, there is a minimal upturn at the corners of his mouth and his whole being seems to be relaxed in a way which clearly radiates content. The bundle in his arms squirms and makes soft noises as a jerk of Seto's shoulder (to get rid of Bakura, who is constantly draping himself over his back in order to see the baby properly. Oddly enough, Joey has been spared the same treatment, even though he is hanging in the exact same fashion over his other shoulder) disturbs its slumber slightly. Otherwise, it remains still and silent and Seto thinks it is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

But of course, he doesn't say this out loud.

"We should name him!" Joey declares once the obligatory gushing and congratulations are over and done with. "Everybody gets to suggest one name each, and then we'll take votes on which it will be. And voting for oneself is forbidden," this is added with a strict look at Bakura.

If Isis and Dracul dislike this suggestion, they do not say so. Much like the rest of the family, they have become fond of Joey, and it's not like they have any specific name they would like to give their baby, anyway. They have discussed it, of course, but since nothing clicked they have agreed to take it as it comes. Joey's idea is as good as any.

Naturally, Bakura is the first to put forth his suggestion.

"I say we name him Pubert!"

"Only because you want to be cruel," Ryou accuses him, but only gets a mischievous grin in reply. It took some assistance from Isis and Joey, but the two have actually managed to become very close, despite their huge differences. There is not a doubt in Isis' mind that they will make a cute couple when the time comes. Her husband, who is also aware of this, is slightly disapproving, but remains stoic about it.

"I think William is a beautiful name," the mother says softly, but Joey shake his head.

"That's so ordinary," he objects, and although Isis is a little offended, his next words appease her. "A kid like this deserves a special name: something unique and cool. Like… like Leonardo!"

Seto raises an eyebrow at his friend, clearly stating 'You must be joking!', only without words.

"Let us all ignore the human," he murmurs while Joey sticks his tongue out at him. "I do believe my brother should be given a far more beautiful name. Maybe Darius, or Zackary."

"You're only allowed to choose one name!"

"That is a very unnecessary rule. This is my younger sibling's identity we are talking about."

"Everyone agreed to it! Stop trying to cheat!"

"Whulfric," Dracul cuts in, successfully putting and end to the escalating discussion between his son and the human boy. Everybody turn to look at him with raised eyebrows, because unlike Bakura, he seems to be completely serious in his suggestion.

"…Indeed," Isis finally breaks the uncomfortable silence, and they all move on to Ryou, mostly to banish the awkwardness.

The pale boy seems to be deeply engorged in his thoughts for a moment, and then he smiles faintly.

"I suggest Mokuba."

"Mokuba?" Seto snorts. "What kind of name is Mokuba?"

Ryou's smile turns heartbreakingly sad, and Bakura immediately glares at his adopted brother.

"My mother said that if I ever had a brother," the boy whispers, "she wanted his name to be Mokuba."

And with that single sentence, he has done something nobody else has ever been able to do before:

He has made Seto feel like a complete ass. …Not that the blue-eyed night-walker shows it.

They allow Silence to keep up a very long and elaborate dialogue with Awkwardness; one that stretches on for minutes, and is indeed incredibly tense. Finally Joey raises his hand, even though no one is sure why.

"I think Mokuba is a great name!" He states almost too eagerly.

"Me too!" Bakura is quick to follow.

"He does look like a Mokuba," Isis adds kindly, and Dracul nods.

"Hn," Seto grunts, not caring to add anything since he has already been overruled. He does, however, allow Ryou to hold the baby – Mokuba – for the rest of the day.

Seasons pass, as seasons are wont to do. Three years go by so fast it is almost frightening; three years in which nothing and a lot happens at the same time.

The children grow; most noticeably Mokuba, who learns to walk, talk and run under the proud, guarding gazes of his night walker-family and one unique human boy. He is not the only one, though; as is expected, Seto has a violent growth spurt and turns from a thin thirteen-year-old into a handsome, slender teenager who is well on his way to being able to look his father in the eye without raising his head. He is already taller than his mother.

Bakura seems to put on muscle naturally, and the Gardierna-genes make themselves known as his shoulders, arms and chest fill out while his waist and legs stay slender. His hair grows as well; turning from an unruly mop into a thick, edgy fall of silver. Together, he and Seto make a gorgeous pair of young men, who catch the interest of many village-girls whenever they go to visit Jou or join Dracul during his errands.

Ryou, on the other hand, only becomes prettier and prettier for each day that pass. His body fills out somewhat, but not in a very manly way. Instead, he keeps his ethereal beauty, and the maturity that comes with age joins with his ever-present sadness to create something of a living masterpiece; mysterious, tragic and hopeful all at the same time.

At fourteen, Joey might not be as visually captivating as his three immortal friends, but his large, honest brown eyes and pretty face (not to mention his radiant personality) more than make up for his scrawny frame. The thick golden hair, which he allows to grow a little, just so that he can collect it in a small tail at the nape of his neck, is a stark contrast which people cannot help but notice every time the four young friends are together. In a way, Seto, Bakura and Ryou seem to have made Joey their sun – in lack of a real one – and it is both strange and pleasing to see how well this role fits him.

So perhaps it is really quite easy to understand why the three night walkers react the way they do when someone tries to steal their sun away.

She is eighteen, blond, voluptuous and far too interested – in Seto's opinion, anyway – in a blond village-boy four years her junior.

"Hello."

Joey looks up from the floor he is currently scrubbing, and in the doorway, surrounded by golden sunlight, stands the most attractive girl he has ever seen. Her pose – leaning against the wall by the door, arms crossed and one foot up flat on the wall – radiates easy confidence, and her amazing violet eyes (he wasn't aware eyes could HAVE that colour) dance with curious amusement. She is beautiful, and completely aware of the fact.

"Uh…" he says, still on his knees with a dirty rag in hand and water all over the floor around him, "Hi?"

She smiles at him. "You must be Jou. Nobody told me you would be this cute. I'm Mai Valentine; my family travels and we decided to camp here in you village on our journey through the country."

"Oh… Okay…" Joey isn't really sure why she's telling him this, and he's still on his knees on the floor. "Nice to meet you."

She doesn't giggle in that sharp, annoying way the village-girls do when he is hanging out with Seto and Bakura. Instead, her chuckles are soft and crooning… and Joey likes the sound.

"Right back at you, cutie!" She states with an undertone of amusement, and Joey wonders what exactly is so funny. "But anyway, I was told to go on ahead to the tavern and fix a few rooms for us to stay in during our time here. The man we asked about it said I should look for a blond kid named Joey. You're taking care of this place for your uncle, am I right?"

She is: although Joey is the son of the village slaughterman Keith, he is currently helping out his uncle Sebastian – the owner of the inn 'Three Little Ghosts' – who is home sick since a few days back. It's a job that usually leaves him with a lot of free time: Transylvania doesn't get all that many visitors.

That is not to say he doesn't know how to act when guests do appear.

So Joey stands up, wipes his hands carefully on a dry rag, and shakes Mai's hand with a friendly smile. Not a minute later they are making their way up the stairs to the second floor, so that Joey can get five rooms ready. Apparently Mai has got a fairly large family, which kind of explains why she so eagerly helps Joey make the beds. Then again, there might be another explanation for that as well:

"So…" she drawls with a curious sparkle in her eyes, "I've heard some pretty interesting stories about the count of this land."

Joey glances up at her with a questioning expression.

"Is it true that he's a vampire?" She clarifies.

"They're called night walkers, actually," Joey corrects her, a protective suspiciousness stirring inside him. "It's not the same thing."

"You know what I mean," she seems to be growing a little impatient now. "But it's true, isn't it? He is a vampire… or night walker, or whatever you wanna call it?"

Her curiosity is justified: there was a time, very long ago, when almost all nobles were night walkers and practically every area was ruled by one. But since the world will always keep on turning; keep on changing, the vampire-lords have grown fewer and fewer. Transylvania, Jou knows, is one of the few independent areas with a true elder vampire still as its leader.

He nods in answer and Mai's face lights up.

"His name is Dracul," he explains. "He's got a wife and four kids, although only two of them are his own. …I'm good friends with the family actually; maybe you'll meet them during your stay here."

"I'd love that!" She looks like she really would. "But tell me more about them! How does it work, having an immortal, blood-drinking, sun-hating creature for a master?"

"Lord Dracul's not exactly our master," Joey frowns, not liking her choice of words. "He's a guardian, really."

"What do you mean?"

"The relationship between vampire-lords and their subjects has always worked the same," Seto has taught him this, and he remembers almost every word. "Since night walkers are so much stronger than humans physically, the lord's most important duty is to protect those who live in his or her county from external as well as internal threats. In many cases, this means they'll have to be a strong leader, but they usually don't enslave the inhabitants or anything. In return, the people serve their guardian in different ways: like keeping their blood-supply full and stuff like that. Here in our village, it's my dad who makes sure Lord Dracul has enough blood: once or twice a month he transports a few barrels that he's been filling to the castle: he's the village-butcher, so it's easy for him."

"So you're basically telling me you pay them in blood?" Mai looked like she couldn't decide if she should be disgusted or interested.

"It's animal-blood, of course. It'd have gone to waste anyway, if Dracul and his family hadn'ttaken it. All this might seem a little strange to an outsider, but it's a good system: we live side by side here, the night walkers and us humans. Heck; Dracul and Isis come down here every week and take a few beers in the bar with the other grown ups! And I've been friends with Seto and Bakura since I was five years old! It works."

The pretty blond girl ponders this for a moment, her violet eyes thoughtful, and then she looks up and smiles radiantly at him.

"This is all so exciting! I've seen vampires before, but never personally met any. Especially not some ancient lord…. Do you think you could introduce me to them, if they visit again soon?"

"Sure," Joey shrugs. "Can't be any harm in that, can there?"

"Thanks, honey," she says and pats his cheek gently. Then loud voices from downstairs catch their attention and Joey understands that the new guests have arrived. From the noise, it sounds like a lively horde; he'll probably be very busy for the next few days.

He doesn't know how right he is.

They are indeed a strange party, Mai's family: not exactly gypsies or prowlers or any other type of shady characters one would expect to travel around Europe… but a normal family. Just an old man, his three sons, their respective wives and a whole flock of children (how they keep track on which spawn belongs to whom is beyond the Transylvanian population) with Mai as the eldest and a two-year-old boy as the youngest. They could just as well have inhabited a district in Paris or London, but the entire family seems to have agreed that they want to travel, even though Grandpa's knees are so bad he can't walk and two of the brothers would have been better off as black-smiths or shoe-makers in a solid society.

The middle brother, however, is an artist. And a particularly skilled one too, if one is to trust the rumours.

Dracul does trust the rumours, and decides that this is a perfect opportunity to add another family portrait to the vast collection in the castle. After all; they do not yet have any which include Mokuba and Ryou.

So the entire family – Lord, Lady, oldest son, youngest son and two orphans – find themselves taking a trip to the village five days after the newcomers arrive, to request a painting.

The artist in question is ecstatic.

"Yes. Yes. Yes!" He breathes in complete entrancement as he circles around them like a predator and gazes upon all that aesthetic beauty rolled into a family of six. Dracul: tall, mysterious and powerful; a solid foundation, for sure. Isis: dignified, strong, ethereal; a perfect contrast to her husband. Seto: the proud eldest son with his mother's beauty but his father's edge. Mokuba: a dark-haired, adorable addition to an otherwise threatening group; he will surely give the painting the dose of warmth it'll need to be appealing. Bakura and Ryou: two welcome lighter shades among all that black and brown, although in very different ways. Bakura hinting at something wilder, almost sexy, while Ryou adds a deeper layer of emotions with his sad, gentle visage.

So much colour… so much character… so much beauty… so much feeling…

Amelda knows that if he can get this right, it'll surely become one of his greatest masterpieces.

He spends a ridiculous amount of time setting them up perfectly. 'Three Little Ghosts' has become his make-shift studio, and he has put up chairs in front of a curtain where he asks the night walkers to switch places, scoot closer together, change their positions etc. etc. until even Ryou is starting to look annoyed. His easel, canvas, palette, brushes and colours are ready, but he is still making sure the lighting is just right.

"Will you just get on with it already?" Bakura snaps at last, and for perhaps the first time, Isis doesn't scold him for his rudeness. Amelda looks indignant, throws Dracul a withering glare and states coldly:

"Well, it's your own fault if it doesn't turn out well. I will still charge you."

Dracul thinks that is definitely a financial risk his can afford taking, as long as they get started soon.

They do.

A tavern is definitely not the best place to be while creating the perfect painting. 'Three Little Ghosts' is the only bar in Transylvania, and so it comes as no surprise that it is full of people tonight. Some have come to watch the Lord and his family become eternalized; some just want to take a nice relaxing drink after a hard day's work, but either way the spirits are high and the noise loud. Amelda is used to this, though. He easily shuts everything else out and focuses completely on his job. The outlineis done quickly with expert hands; not a single detail left out. As he finishes that stage and moves on to the actual colouring, he knows he has arranged them perfectly.

They are placed on two rows, with Seto, Dracul and Bakura standing up behind Isis, Ryou and Mokuba, who are sitting down. The Lord himself is standing in the middle; between his two oldest boys with one hand resting gently on his wife's shoulder and a serene expression on his face; explaining much clearer than words how much she means to him. Seto and Bakura stand to his right and left; one elegantly serious, the other ruggedly mischievous – both obviously objects of their father's pride. Ryou is placed in front of Seto: diagonally from Bakura to even out the amount of silver in the picture, and his faint smile is just plain breathtaking. Little Mokuba is sitting in his mother's lap with both her arms around him, grinning widely like only a thoroughly loved child can. Isis, at last, has her head raised and back straight, with a slight upturn at the corner of her mouth which makes her look even more captivating.

Nobody is moving a muscle, and all six pairs of eyes are fixed on the artist. Amelda would have been bothered by their intense staring if he wasn't so caught up in his painting.

Painting takes time, of course, and within an hour Seto finds himself growing bored of the situation. This is hard to notice, though, as the only change in his behaviour is that his blue eyes stray. They sweep over the room, taking in all the guests, and inevitably settle on Joey. Seto has found his eyes doing that far too often lately… or maybe they always have, and it is not until recently that he has noticed it.

Joey is standing behind the counter, talking to that blond girl (woman, really) he briefly introduced before Amelda got his hands on them. Mai, was her name? Seto doesn't really care. What he does care about are the lingering touches she bestows upon the boy fairly often. A hand on his arm, a finger running over his knuckles, a gentle shove accompanied by a flirty laugh.

She is so unsubtle Seto cannot help but hate her.

And then she glances his way, catches ice-cold blue eyes and raises an eyebrow before leaning over the disk – her long, curvaceous body bending beautifully – to whisper something in Jou's ear. And Joey, Seto's Joey, actually laughs and blushes.

Amelda takes his eyes off the painting for a moment to make sure he's getting the shade of Seto's hair absolutely right, and starts. He is very glad he's already finished sketching the young man's expression; he would have hated it if the boy had ended up looking murderous on a family-portrait. That would have ruined the picture completely!

Mai's ability to stay quiet is almost as impressive as Seto's, Joey thinks to himself while the girl drags him silently through the village towards the river and the forest with one hand firmly clasped around his own. Her skin is warm and her smile alluring, but it's the brief comparison to Seto which makes his stomach squirm strangely.

It's been almost a week since Mai and her family arrived and aside from the night when they came do the village to be painted, Joey has barely gotten a glimpse of his night-walker friends. His uncle has gotten better now, but he's still been very busy helping him out with the guests and on top of that: he's not a child anymore. He's fourteen – more than ready to start helping his father in the slaughterhouse, which he does dutifully. This, however, have some side-effects in the shape of exhaustion at the end of the day and a severe lack of spare-time.

Joey thinks the guys have come to visit him once or twice in the past week: there have been instances when he's woken up and his window has been open, even though he thought he had closed it the night before. But then again, he's been so beat up when he goes to sleep that it could all be wishful thinking.

The only time he has actually been awake when they came was last night; a full moon. As usual, the three boys had silently climbed up to his window on the second floor and snuck inside without his parents knowing. This time they had even brought Mokuba along ("He wouldn't stop whining about it," Seto had grunted with an affectionate pat to his brother's thick, black hair).

It's not really necessary to sneak around since everybody knows the four of them are friends, but like Bakura had said once with a large shit-eating grin on his face: "It's more exciting this way". Besides, Joey's mother has gotten a lot stricter about his bed-times these days, claiming a boy his age, who works so hard, really needs his sleep.

Still, it was a full moon.

"You know the deal, Joey," Bakura had stated quietly from his place on Joey's bed with eyes glowing red in the darkness: the sight would have made anyone else pee their pants: Joey didn't even feel nervous. "Let's go to the hills and listen for werewolves!"

Mokuba, who was dangling from Seto's raised arms like a playful little monkey, giggled excitedly at the suggestion and was immediately shushed by his older brother so as not to alert Joey's parents. This was the first time he was allowed to come with them on their adventures, but the full moon-watch was an old tradition for Seto, Joey and Bakura.

When they were younger, Bakura had once tried to scare Joey by taking him out to the hills behind the Castle of Transylvania on a full-moon night and let him listen to the wolves howl. Dracul had made sure there were no werewolves in his county long before Seto was born. Joey didn't know that. Bakura had intended to use it.

It had ended with Seto having to gasp out the truth on order to avoid death by strangling at the hands of a terrified, clingy Joey. He had never quite understood how the blond could be completely unfazed by night-walkers when any other supernatural beings made him almost shit himself with fear.

That was long ago, though, and these days Mokuba is the one they're trying to fool. Even if he's not the least bit scared of werewolves.

"Werewolves!" He had squealed quietly and clambered his way up to hang onto Seto's shoulders instead. "Think we will see any, big brother?"

"Maybe, if you try really, really hard," Ryou told him and mercifully removed him from his brother's body. The little one immediately started climbing on the albino instead; a treatment all four boys were frequently subjected to.

They had snuck out and spent a wonderful night together. Joey was well-aware that he'd have to get up early the next morning, but quite honestly: he didn't care. It was a beautiful, clear night, the moon was unbelievably large, the grass was soft beneath him as he sat down, and the howling, for all its off-key pitch and chaos, was very captivating.

Mokuba had indeed tried really, really hard to see any werewolves: watching the forest and open field around them carefully while Seto constantly watched him with half an eye. Naturally, Bakura had become entranced with Ryou the moment the boy had stepped into the moonlight, and Silver and Bruno stayed close by; seemingly unperturbed by the sounds of predators.

The five of them had talked, laughed and encouraged Mokuba to keep looking for werewolves until the boy fell asleep in Joey's lap and they decided it was time to head home.

The time must have been around three or half passed in the morning, and since it was the middle of the summer, the sun would rise in just a couple of hours. That was the excuse Seto had made when he suggested Bakura and Ryou head back to the castle with Mokuba while he took Joey home. The blond had accepted this suggestion without much fuss, but Bakura had given his adopted brother a smug grin before heading off with Mokuba sitting in front of him in the saddle and Ryou clinging to his back.

Seto and Joey had made the trip back to the village in comfortable silence. Silver kept a slow, steady pace; her soft movements lulling Joey almost to sleep as he sat behind his friend in the saddle with his arms around his waist and cheek resting against his sharp shoulder blades. He was tired, but the night had been well worth it. He had missed his friends lately, and nights like this one... it made him realize how important they actually were to him.

He didn't notice it himself, but the peaceful moment, the warmth of Seto's back and the knowledge that he had a great group of friends who truly loved him made Joey's mouth turn up in a beautiful smile which Seto would have cursed at missing, had he known it was there.

"You're being awfully nice tonight," Joey finally broke the silence once Seto had helped him climb back up to his window and into his room. Clear blue eyes glared in the darkness.

"I beg you pardon?"

Joey shrugged. "You haven't insulted my intelligence, social status or personal hygiene at all."

"I didn't realize the lack of snide remarks offended you," Seto grumbled. "I'll make sure not to forget such an important aspect of our acquaintance in the future."

Joey snorted and leaned against the wall beside the window, staring at the older boy, who was sitting upon the windowpane with the moonlight illuminating his figure and accenting his eyes. There was a brunette strand of hair brushing against the corner of his eye: it looked a little uncomfortable, but Seto didn't remove it. Joey's chest suddenly felt very tight, and his fingers refused to stay still. They itched terribly, and he didn't have any idea why.

"So what's going on lately? You guys haven't been around," he asked in an attempt to distract himself from the emotions. Joey could only hope Seto didn't notice the slight tremble in his voice or the extra colour on his cheeks.

"You have been busy," Seto reminded him, and the sentence seemed almost... melancholic. A sudden wave of bad conscience came over Joey, and for some reason it irritated him. He hadn't done anything wrong! Seto had no right to make him feel that way!

"Hey, I have to pull my weight around here, just like everybody else," he snapped, folding his arms across his chest defensively. "Not everyone is a pampered noble who gets everything served on a silver plate."

For a moment Seto looked almost surprised at that unfounded attack, but then the glare was back, a lot more passionate this time. He slid off the windowsill and stood in front of Joey, so close that their toes were touching and his warm breath was washing over Joey's face and now Joey really regretted saying that. He couldn't look away from the sharp eyes as Seto towered over him.

"I'm pampered?" He whispered dangerously. Joey swallowed. "I didn't realize my status was such a terrible thorn in your side. I was foolish enough to believe for a moment that you viewed me as something a bit more complex than a spoilt brat, and for that, I apologize. Perhaps it would be best if we went our separate ways right now before your envy reaches heights that you can't control."

Joey knows Seto very well. Sometimes, he knows what he's going to do before it happens, and that was how he managed to grab the other boy's wrist before he could jump out the window. Seto is a lot stronger than him, but this time he didn't shake off the blonde's grip, even though his body was turned towards the window. They didn't look at each other.

"I'm sorry," Joey muttered, putting his other hand on his friends shoulder in a gesture of companionship. "I didn't mean that. It's just... it's been a long week and I miss hanging out with you guys. Guess I'm a lot more sensitive about the subject than I thought."

Seto turned to look at him then, and his expression was a little wary. They just stared at each other for a long moment, in the moonlight, with the wolves howling in the background. Joey could practically feel the laser that is Seto's gaze roam over his face: from his eyes to the thin scar on his left eyebrow to his hair to his nose, down to his lips for a lingering moment, and then back up to his eyes.

"There is nothing much going on lately," he said at last, referring to Joey's earlier question. "There is never much going on when you are not around."

And then he kissed him.

There wasn't any build-up (unless one counts the months and months of tension which has been transpiring between the two) or wondrous life changing moment; Seto just kissed him. Joey's hands were still on his wrist and his shoulder and Seto's free arm was hanging uselessly at his side, but the brunette had bent over slightly and turned his head so that their lips slid against each other perfectly. It was a little awkward (Seto being a lot taller than him and all) and a bit hesitant (Joey still had his eyes wide open while Seto's were tightly shut as if he didn't want to see what was going on), but it was also very, very sweet.

Joey's body was growing hot, and the tightness in his chest was getting painful, but it wasn't unpleasant.

It hurt in a good way.

He whimpered softly and closed his eyes, but as if the sound woke him up, Seto pulled back instantly and stared at him: eyes uncharacteristically wide.

"I'm sorry," he said, and then he was gone. Joey would have gone after him, but shock had him frozen in place, and by the time he snapped out of it, Seto was long gone.

He had neither gotten any sleep that night, nor the chance to go corner his friend during the day. And by the time he had gathered his thoughts and courage enough to leave tonight, Mai had been waiting for him outside his window.

Taking all this into consideration, it is not at all strange that Joey is unable to focus on the beautiful girl, even as she drags him across the river-bridge and to the very edge of the forest; beyond trees and shrub, where they won't be easily spotted.

"What are you doing?" He asks, just as he did when she started dragging him away from his home and any chances of seeing Seto tonight. Her answer is a little different, though. Last time she just smiled mysteriously and told him 'You'll see'. Now, she turns and presses up very close to him, rakes both hands gently through his thick, blond hair, and kisses him.

And it is nothing like Seto.

Mai is not awkward (she's about his height: neither of them have to bend over or reach up to touch lips) and she is not hesitant (where in the world did she learn to use her tongue like that?), but in turn, the kiss is not very sweet either.

It is teasing and lustful and seductive, but not sweet.

Joey's so shocked at first that he simply lets her plunder his mouth. She's not exactly forceful, but there's a security in her actions which shows that she has never been rejected before. Jou can see why, and yet he doesn't feel anything.

Memories flashes through his head at the speed of lightning: the older village-boys bragging about their conquests and the older girls giggling and exchanging lewd stories when they think no one is listening. Joey is no idiot, and even though he can be naive about some things, he knows about sex (his father had made sure of that on his thirteenth birthday). He knows how it usually happens in their small community: marriage because of pregnancy is not unusual. He realizes, very quickly, what is expected of him in this situation. This is the trysts the older teenagers speak of, and Mai is obviously willing: any other boy would be naked already.

A sudden fear makes Joey's stomach turn in on itself as he realizes his body is not responding to her. He doesn't want her. He doesn't want to do this with her. Her body isn't right. Her eyes are the wrong shade. Her hair is too long and light. She's not...

She's not Seto.

She is not Joey's closest MALE friend.

And just as well as Joey knows about the trysts among the older teens, he knows what people think of those who are not normal. He's heard the preaches. He's gone to church every Sunday since he was little.

Mai is pulling back. His mouth has remained slack and unresponsive against hers, and it's only natural for her to wonder about that. But then his hand grabs her neck and he's pulling her back to him, crushing their lips together with something almost desperate.

Mai can feel his trembling and knows he's nervous. She is an experienced girl, but she is also a kind one, so it is with outmost care and nurturance that she coaxes him into a better kiss: one where teeth don't clash and noses squish against each other.

Soon, they lay down on the soft grass and stroke clothes from each other's skin. Trailing fingertips cause gooseflesh, fleeting kisses awaken deep shivers, and soft sounds arouse undeniably. Mai is very skilled at what she does. She guides him. She takes care of him.

And yet, Joey endures it with eyes tightly shut and an image of Seto in his head, while shame floods him along with the heat.

"We're leaving tomorrow," Mai whispers to him a few hours later, as he's dropping her off at the tavern. She kisses his cheek affectionately, and they are both well aware this was a one time thing. Joey is incredibly thankful and ashamed of that. "Just wanted to give you something to remember me by."

"Too bad I couldn't do the same for you," he mumbles in answer and looks at his feet. Her deep, pleasant laugh rings through the air, and then she hugs him. It's a warm and affectionate embrace.

"You did good, kid," she assures him as they pull apart. "I have nothing to complain about. You just need to believe in yourself a little more, you know?"

He tries to summon his most genuine smile, but it doesn't go too well. Joey's whole face feels stiff and heavy, as if it's agreeing with the painful squirming in his stomach. Mai doesn't mention his badly hidden reluctance. Perhaps she mistakes it for diffidence or weariness, but either way she just gives him one more smile and kiss on the forehead.

"If we ever come by here again, I'd like to do it again," she says with a flirtatious wink before disappearing into the inn. Joey leaves immediately, hoping some added distance between them will help him clear his head.

It doesn't. He is just as confused and anxiety-ridden after a long, slow walk through the village as he was while saying goodbye Mai. It is really a wonder that he doesn't slip and fall while climbing up to his window, what with the way his head spins because of his own thoughts mixed with various images of Mai and Seto. He sneaks inside silently, takes off his wrinkled clothes and crawls under the covers without having found any peace of mind.

Joey knows he is not entirely normal. He is aware that his parents have had to endure discussions with concerned or prying neighbours; he knows that some people stare and whisper behind his back. But there is a very big difference between being slightly strange and unacceptably abnormal. People can accept that he is the friend of the night walker-boys. They can understand such a friendship - encourage it even - though Tristan and Duke have grown more and more distant lately.

But the people of Transylvania cannot, and will not accept him lusting after one of said night walker-boys like some sick, twisted, sinful pervert! They will kill him if they find out! He doesn't want these feelings: he would do anything to be rid of them, but the fact remain that Seto is one of his best friends, the most beautiful creature Joey had ever seen and the embodiment of everything he didn't know he wanted in life.

It's so unfair. It is so very, very unfair.

Joey cries himself to sleep that night, unaware that at the same moment, Seto is spurring his horse in a wild gallop back to the Castle of Transylvania while stubborn images burn the inside of his eyelids and implicational words ring in his ears:

Just wanted to give you something to remember me by...

You did good...

I'd like to do it again...

For two weeks Joey and Seto avoid each other like the plague while Bakura and Ryou stand in between them, confused and helpless. Seto refuses to come with his two fellow night-walkers down to the village, and Joey never visits anymore. One of them buries himself in studies and hunting wild animals in the forest - a pastime he hasn't engaged in since he was very young - while the other takes on even more village-duties.

Upon Ryou's stubborn request, Joey makes one attempt at talking to Seto. He comes up to the castle eight nights after Mai has left with her family, and he is greeted warmly by the Lord and Lady, as well as an ecstatic Mokuba, who clambers onto Joey's back and refuses to let go. Bakura punches his arm affectionately and makes some crude joke while Ryou mostly sends meaningful gazes Seto's way and raise an eyebrow at Joey.

The young brunet sits on a sofa in the corner of the library, reading a book and looking all around indifferent. Unlike the rest of his family, he never bothered greeting Joey, and it takes the blond an hour to muster enough courage to approach him.

When Joey is five steps away from the couch, Seto stand up and makes his way towards the exit.

Understandably, the human boy gets angry. As Seto is about to pass him, the blond grips his arm firmly, refusing to let go.

"What the hell is your problem?" He yells, and Bakura, Ryou and Mokuba look on from the other side of the room: one of them wide-eyed, the other two concernedly. "If you've got some kind of beef with me, why don't you tell me to my face instead of running off like a coward?"

"Why should I bother?" Seto snaps back. "It's not like you took the time to talk to me about what bothered you before running of with the first best tart you could find! I suggest you take a good look at yourself before you start flinging wild accusations around, you abject, pathetic, insolent child. I can't stand the sight of you anymore, and I do not want anything to do with you in the future!"

And then, for the first time ever, he uses his superhuman strength on Joey to wrench his arm free and push the other boy back so roughly the he actually flies a few feet before landing in a pile on the floor. Seto is gone before Ryou had even had time to let out his horrified yelp.

Despite his night-walker friends trying to console him, Joey spends that night like he has spent so many lately: crying his eyes out and falling asleep on a soaked pillow.

Six days after this fiasco, another kind of drama enters the scene and effectively directs everybody's attention elsewhere.

The same messenger who brought Ryou to Transylvania four years ago returns, just as edgy and uptight as he was back then. He doesn't even take the time to visit Ryou and marvel at how the boy has grown, despite how often his thoughts have strayed to the beautiful child over the last few years. The news he bring are far too grave for that.

Bishop Solomon, the human who had been Phoenix's closest and most powerful ally during the last few years, has been murdered. After with his death follows a tsunami of outrage and vindictiveness: everybody, including the people of the Vatican and the Council of Order, wants Solomon's killers found and brought to justice. The problem is that this request stirs up a lot of old rivalry between the humans and night-walkers.

There is a group of people - a large group, and it's growing alarmingly fast - which blames the night-walkers. They think that would be the most logical conclusion, because why would the humans kill their own most beloved leader? But the night-walkers do not agree. They are insulted and angered by the accusation, and fights back with all their might.

The result is chaos. A balance of power which was already very fragile to begin with crumbles completely, and within a week of Solomon's death, a form of civil war had broken out.

When Dracul receives this information from the grim-faced courier, all he can think of is that his younger brother is in the middle of this. Phoenix worked close together with Solomon, and will be one of the primary targets for ill-meaning humans.

The decision to go to the Vatican is easily made. The prospect that his wife would insist on coming with him never even occurred to Dracul.

They argue, he and Isis, for hours in their bedroom. Sometimes, it gets so heated that the children can hear it all the way down to Bakura's room at the end of the corridor, where they are currently caught up in card game. The raised voices of their otherwise so controlled and close-knit parents make even Seto deflate a little in upset. Mokuba crawls into his lap and stays there for the entire argument, and Ryou and Bakura sit very close together, pressing against each other needily.

Seto comes to think of Joey, whom he hasn't talked to or even seen in a long time. Longing makes his chest tighten up even as he's annoyed at his own sentimentality. He knows that if the blond was here right now, he would have distracted them somehow. Or maybe he would have comforted them with a smile by telling them his parents argued all the time and things always turned out alright anyway.

But Joey isn't there, and Seto's not sure anymore if it's his own fault or the blond's fault. He's hurt by what the boy did, but his sensible part tells him over and over again that he can't make Joey want him that way. He doesn't even want to like Joey that way, so how can he be mad at the younger boy for not reciprocating his unwanted feelings? Seto had reflected on this a lot lately, and no amount of sensibility has chased his feelings away yet, so instead he hugs Mokuba to himself silently and tries to think of something else.

When Dracul and Isis finally do emerge from the bedroom, the lady had convinced the lord to let her come with him to the Vatican.

They spend an entire day preparing, and leave as dusk the same night. Seto, Mokuba, Ryou and Bakura stand on the castle courtyard only minutes after the dangerous sun has disappeared behind the tree-tops and watch the lord and lady make some final adjustments to their horses' equipment. They have to travel light and fast and seek shelter during the day, so Isis and Dracul has only packed a few bottles of blood, extra clothes and weapons. That will be more than enough for two full-grown, experienced night-walkers during the five-day trip.

While Isis takes turns in hugging and kissing Mokuba, Ryou and Bakura goodbye, Dracul puts a hand on his oldest son's shoulder. Seto is almost seventeen now, and only a head shorter than his father.

"I've taught you everything you need to know," he states, voice filled with certainty and pride. "You will take care of Transylvania until we come back."

"Of course," Seto answers and feels a small thrill of power run up his spine. "I won't disappoint you."

"I know," is the last thing Dracul says to him, and then they embrace tightly. The older night-walker buries his face in his son's hair, breathing in a scent which he memorized the day Seto was born. Dracul doesn't often show affection - it's not part of his nature - but he loves this boy more than he can ever show anyway. And Seto knows it.

Isis and Dracul switch place: not it's her time to embrace her oldest while he scoops Mokuba up in a strong, warm goodbye-see-you-soon-hug which makes the small boy giggle.

The lady of Transylvania takes Seto's face in between her hands and kisses his forehead, his nose, both his cheeks and his lips tenderly. When she pulls back, their identical blue eyes meet, and she smiles.

"You should try to make nice with Joey." He stiffens at the words, like she knew he would, and tries to pull away. She doesn't let him. "You will need him, Seto. You always have needed him, and the sooner you realize this, things will get easier."

He has no answer to that. Only watches as the adults finish saying goodbye and mount their horses with ease. The lord and lady look down at their children with nothing but tenderness, confidence, pride and reassurance in their eyes, then turn around and gallop out of the courtyards, towards the road which will lead them to the Vatican.

There is a fire somewhere; he can tell from the heat and the smoke and the smell which is slowly filling the room, but he doesn't know where it comes from. Is it in the house? Is the house on fire? Or is it the neighbouring one? All the buildings stand so close together in this city, it's very hard to determine things like that, and all the screaming, booming and all-around chaos around him doesn't exactly make it easier. What he does know, though, is that there are people outside the door. People that want him and his loved ones nothing but harm.

How has it come to this?

He tries desperately to keep the buckling door in place while an unknown number of people push against it on the other side, trying to come in. They yell and bang on it frantically, and it hurts his sensitive hearing. At the same time, his brother runs around between the broken glass-windows in the room; trying to keep their enemies from getting in that way. Pained screams are released as said brother breaks bones and slices off limbs, but he holds no compassion for them. He cannot hold any compassion for them. Not when his wife, his brother's wife and his niece are hiding upstairs, depending on them to keep them safe.

There are so many of them, how can there be so many of them? It sounds like there's a small army waiting outside the door, and it's not lessening, no matter what we do. They just keep coming and coming.

He realizes he needs to think of something fast, or they will all be doomed. But there is no time, because the panicked scream of a female travel down the stairs and ring in his ears much louder than any of the noise outside. It makes his stomach knot up in a feeling he has never before experienced. It is terror. Pure, unadulterated terror, because that was the voice of his sister-in-law, and if she is screaming, that means she is in danger, which means his wife is also in danger.

Oh god I can't abandon my post they'll get in but I have to get up there lord of darkness what am I supposed to do-

His brother doesn't bother thinking about any of this: he is flying up the stairs the moment he hears the sound, and now their enemies are getting in either way. He realizes it's a lost cause, and follows his brother, hoping they will at least be able to barricade the narrow staircase and keep them away from the second floor. Or something.

But all hope of that is lost as he reaches the top of the staircase. They are welling in through the windows, armed with those strange stakes, amulets and words, and even though it doesn't stop him from slaying his way through the corridor towards the master bedroom, their methods are strangely effective.

He just threw water on me and it burned how is that possible? Is this their light-magic, I've never seen anything like it! Oh dear lord what if they have gotten to-

His brother is already in the master bedroom. The women have been cornered, and he's shielding them with his own body against the water and spells which burn his skin. His brother's wife screams and hugs her husband from behind even as his body starts to sag because of the injuries, and he gets a glimpse of his niece - a pale, blue-eyed brunette who is about Seto's age and looks absolutely terrified - but then he directs his attention elsewhere by starting to dispose of the lowly creatures which have brought this misery upon his family.

Blood and flesh mix with their strange magic. The air is crackling around him and he doesn't know how or why. His wife, his beautiful, strong, perfect companion, has stepped forward to protect the others, since his brother is lying on the floor with a cankered torso, a hysterical wife hovering above him and a daughter crying her eyes out behind them.

His wife might not be a trained fighter, but she possesses inhuman strength and speed just like everyone else of their kind. They fight their way across the room towards each other and he almost weeps when he sees the large wounds which are now marring her formerly so flawless skin. She is screaming his name, just as desperate as the rest of them, but unwilling to give up. Suddenly a new, different person appears in the sea of hostile faces, making his already quaking knees shake even more. This figure is completely calm, composed, and he's chanting something. It's getting hotter in the room. Much, much hotter. All their enemies are pulling back-

Why are they pulling back?

-leaving them alone with this figure who is doing something very, very terrible. He launches forward, trying to get to it, knowing instinctively that he needs to stop whatever this person is doing before the heat reaches unbearable heights. He's vaguely aware of his sister-in-laws despairing cries, his niece's screams, his wife's heavy breathing, but then all of it disappear, leaving only a terrible silence and a word of death.

Sol...?

Ripping, burning, devastating light hits his retinas and burns them to a crisp immediately. The same goes for his tongue, eardrums, lungs, heart, spine and every other organ in his whole body. His wife's voice follows him:

"DRACUL!"

But then he's gone with one last, heartbreakingly confused thought:

IsisSetoMokubaBakuraRyouNo...

It's a cold evening at the dawn of October. Autumn had just arrived with a dignified silence; colouring the trees yellow, red and brown while a cutting cold has started to dominate the nights. But in the village of Transylvania, the cold is kept at bay tonight due to the huge, sparking, thundering bonfire which has been built and lit in the middle of the town-square. It's so hot people can't come within five metres of it, but the entire population is there to watch it. The light reflects off of their faces. Silent. Grim. Mourning.

Bakura and Ryou are easily distinguished among the people thanks to their colouring. They stand huddled very close together, the taller boy with an arm slung around the shoulders of his companion. Ryou has pressed his face into Bakura's shirt and silent tears soak the cloth. Usually, he would have apologized for that, but right now he can't muster up enough strength to maintain his usual courtesy. Bakura doesn't care, either way. He's too busy staring into the flames without seeing them: obviously off in his own world, which is so familiar to a boy whom has never been good at handling his own emotions and trauma.

The messenger stands beside them. A tall, dark-skinned half-walker with healing wounds all over his face and one arm in a sling. It's not the same courier as last time. Of that man, there is nothing but dust left; dust which is polluting the air and spreading across the streets of the Vatican State at this very moment.

Just like Lord Dracul and Lady Isis.

The new lord is present in the crowd as well. A tall and proud figure whose handsome face never changes from the hard, withdrawn expression it had been fixed into. He's only a youngster of seventeen springs, but there is power in his stance and dignity in his squared shoulders. He looks like an immovable rock, especially with his younger brother clutching at his waist and emitting loud, heartbroken sobs into his fine tunic. One hand has buried itself in the raven locks of the child, stroking; soothing much more effectively than any words ever could.

On the lord's other side stands the son of the slaughterer. He's dressed in his finest clothes (but still looks unkempt next to the other) and showing a lot more emotion than his companion. Those big, brown eyes are blank with tears and his shoulders are shaking along with his lips. Still, he stands tall and strong; emitting the same determination as the lord, only with a lot more effort.

Nobody sees this, though. Nobody sees Joey's struggle, or how Seto's chin wobbles sometimes, or how he ever so often has to take a few deep, long breaths to get himself under control. Neither do they see how Joey, after one particularly long exhalation (it almost sounds like a soft, pained groan) reaches up and grabs the brunet's elbow. His hand slowly, firmly slides down across Seto's forearm and finally reaches the lord's hand, intertwining their fingers as solidly as their unspoken feelings for one another. Nothing more is said or done on the matter. They just keep on watching, along with the rest of Transylvania, how the flames lick at the wood of the bonfire, turning anything it reaches into ash and coal.

Seto cannot help but think it's a rather fitting metaphor for his own destroyed childhood.

I TOLD YOU, MUSTANGX2, I WAS GOING TO CONTINUE IT SOONER OR LATER! XD

My excuse for dropping of the face of the Internet for so long:

http:/www DOT fictionpress DOT com/s/2814878/1/

Words cannot truly describe how sorry I am for not updating in, what... two years? But you know how it is: life gets in you way, inspiration fails you, original stories attack your mind… and in my defence: this thing is 30 pages long. I'm kinda hoping the length will make up for the wait. …Still: I'M REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY SORRY! You guys probably thought I was dead! …If there's even anyone reading this anymore. ó.ò

But onto the story!

So… this is the first real chapter of Draculea. Tell me what you think! How's the plot? The characterizations? The writing-style? The setting? The relationships? The EVERYTHING! I want to know! Please leave a review and tell me: without your comments I never would have finished this monstrosity of a chapter to begin with!

SO REVIEW! Please? 8)

R&R!

And seriously, what the hell kind of name is "Mokuba", anyway? XD