Notes:

Even though this was started because of Allen/Lavi week, I don't think I can finish the story within eight prompts. There's a bit more I would like to pack in.

Thank you for waiting – I haven't been on time with the prompts, and with this chapter I'm doubly late. I'm grateful to see that people are still reading and liking this. Your reviews are a joy to read.

Please enjoy – my chosen prompt for this chapter is Liberty.

In his earliest memory of being a vampire he had learnt of feeds. Bookman had been human, but he had taught him before he was turned, and even after, all the way until his death. Lavi had travelled with him, had retained his youthful features while Bookman grew older and the wrinkles deepened around his eyes. It hadn't been, and will never be, the other vampires he learnt from.

Bookman was why he had never sought to join a coven. He had become an information broker instead, something close enough to Bookman's job as a historian. The old man had grunted at his choice, before proceeding to whap him around the head. Lavi suspected it was just because Bookman had felt like it.

Then Bookman had died, and Lavi had been free to go wherever he chose. He wandered the world for a century and more, reveling in the sights, drinking in the wars, learning of the way humans lived, in sorrow and in triumph. He took blood only when he needed it, and he never killed. It almost irked him, having to take blood. It was bothersome finding somebody to trick, and the taste was never good enough. He took the years to train, to hone his skills, though he never became too proficient in them. He could pull off a decent hypnosis, he was good at spying, and closer to the moon he could even dissolve into mist if he tried hard enough. But information gathering and analysis would always be his strongest suit.

And at the end of his travels, he had finally decided to go to Arkham, home of the night creatures. By default he had given up on finding anybody as his feed. Most humans in Arkham had Alliances, and the new ones found theirs soon enough. Besides, he was bored with most of them, or just didn't care. With Marie's bar it became much easier to satisfy his blood lust, and he contented himself with being an information broker in a world where exchanges and favours meant everything.

He had heard stories before, from vampires whom he had dealings with. Especially the vampires with feeds. They spoke of how they knew, from the moment they had contact with a human, whether the human was the right feed for them. Each human had distinct scents, and vampires had their preferences too. Komui had explained to Lavi his theory – the scent the vampire is most attracted to indicated the human had the nutrients the vampire needed to be in his or her best form. The scientist had added with a wry smile that for some it was the human equivalent of love at first sight. And because vampires and feeds are bound to each other, in some cases they did become lovers.

Lavi didn't believe in love at first sight. He understood Komui's theory and saw the plausibility of it. But he had given up on finding his feed, and would be fine with donated blood or random humans when he needed to feed.

That only lasted until Lenalee had introduced him to Allen, and he smelt him, and he just knew.

.

In Allen's living room, Lavi stood as far away from him as he could, not wanting to risk it until the moon had gone down. Allen was impatient, but he remained on the couch with his arms crossed, resisting the urge to tap his foot. Lavi stood by the window, fighting the blood lust. He glanced out at the dark sky and waited for it to lighten, waited until his fangs did not hurt so much he wanted to claw it out.

When the sky lightened into dark gray Allen raised an eyebrow. Lavi still wanted to flee. But without the excuse of the moon, and with Allen looking so expectant – he knew he had to explain his behaviour. He wished he could have a glass of blood, just to be safe.

He thought of asking Allen what he wanted to know first. But that would be pointless – he already knew the answer. Walking out from the kitchen he leaned against the wall of the living room while Allen was sat on the couch. Allen would have squirmed, if he hadn't dealt with worse situations before – like with the Earl from the night before. Only compared to the Earl, Lavi didn't seem eager to launch into his tale. He looked like a man walking to the gallows.

"On full moon nights," Lavi finally started, gaze fixed on the opposite wall, "most vampires will have blood lust. Even if they had fed the night before. The moon's pull is strong, and vampires aren't able to fight her draw. And on those days, even the most relaxed of vampires will prefer fresh blood, that's why close to no vampires would visit Luna on moon nights."

Allen waited. And waited. Lavi seemed to be struggling with what to say next, so he kept quiet and watched.

"However, blood lust doesn't mean vampires will attack any random stranger. Those with feeds will, well, feed. Those without will still choose whom to feed on."

Allen's eyebrows raised so high they might have disappeared behind his hair. "You would have chosen…me?" He asked.

"For the short answer, yes," Lavi said, not daring to look at Allen as he said so. It was only going to get more difficult from here. "But, if I had seen you as a temporary feed, I could still have more…control. I could have as easily found somebody outside Arkham, to feed without killing."

Lavi glimpsed out the corner of his eye as Allen frowned, trying to make sense of his roundabout explanation. He had the feeble hope that Allen wouldn't get it, but Allen was far smarter than his hope. The moment it clicked in his head Allen's jaw dropped open.

"You said…if I were a 'temporary' feed…" Allen started slowly, not quite sure if he was getting it right. "But since you, uh, attacked – " he regretted the word when Lavi winced – "for lack of a better word, that is – you mean my blood smelt like more than that?"

Reluctantly, Lavi nodded. "You know about feeds, at least a little. Each vampire is still different from another, in terms of the nutrients they need, and the blood they prefer. Else we could all be served chicken's blood and nobody would care. And the feeds provide the vampires the nutrients he or she needs. It's not…a case of picking any human to become a feed. And so…I nearly lost control because – that is to say – um…" Lavi scratched his head, unable to say it.

"I…you think I'm your feed. Or could be your feed," Allen said it for him.

Lavi nodded, shame suffusing him. He didn't know how to read Allen's expression.

Seconds passed while Allen stared at his hands, processing the information. Knowing he could be somebody's feed was one thing; but actually being presented with the idea of immortality, of being bound to another – that was something he had never given thought to.

"Why…didn't you tell me before?"

There were a million reasons why. And Lavi knew the most important one. "If you had known before making your Alliance – you might think I'm only trying to get close to you for your blood. To force you into an Alliance with me," he admitted, feeling wretched. "And I didn't want you to think that. I just wanted to be…" he shook his head. "I don't know what I wanted to be. Your friend, for one. But not your captor. Not that. Never that."

"And now?" Allen said in a soft voice. "Not that I know, you're not afraid that I would think that? I don't have an Alliance still."

"And you can't have one, as you've promised under the Night Gods," Lavi said. "I…you're free to think that, and if you want I can…I can leave you," he forced the words out, trying to hide his dread at the thought.

Allen stared at him, but Lavi still wasn't meeting his eyes. He stood up from the couch and walked over to stand in front of Lavi. Lavi ducked his head down, but Allen forced it up to meet his eyes. They studied each other's expression until Allen said, "But you didn't. You didn't say a word before the moon. And you even wanted to stay away tonight, if it weren't today I lost the Protection."

Lavi, still unsure and fearful, nodded. "I would never make you my feed, if you're unwilling to," he emphasized. "Please believe me."

"I believe you," Allen whispered after a long, nerve-wracking moment. "I'm a bit mad, sure. But I believe you."

Lavi breathed a sigh of relief. The blood lust still thrummed a little at Allen's proximity. But it was turning to day, and Lavi's head wasn't so muddled and crazed. When Allen wandered back to the couch, his head even felt clear for the first time after the moon night. Lavi didn't move from his position against the wall, unwilling to assume that Allen wanted him anywhere near now that he had explained.

"Okay…" Allen breathed out, looking lost now that the issue had been dealt with. "Okay, I don't quite know how to deal with that, so let's shelve it aside for now?" he suggested. He looked annoyed when he saw Lavi was still standing against the wall. "I don't bite, you know."

"No, that's my forte," Lavi said without thinking. Then he wondered if he should apologize. Or just shut his big mouth up. Or just run away.

Allen rolled his eyes. "I can procure a file for those things you call fangs, and spare all of Arkham from you and your horrible jokes. I'm sure everyone will be fighting for an Alliance with me by then. Now, please tell me about what you've found out first, about Mana and Nea. Then we can deal with this feed thing."

Lavi still hesitated in approaching. "You…you're sure you're okay? I mean, I just went all batshit crazy out there."

Allen sighed, as though he were explaining the same thing again, to a kid who refused to understand. "Last I checked, whether I'm okay is for me to decide. And I'm going to be really pissed if you're still going to be all guilty about this – I will file your fangs away, believe me. Now stop being an idiot." He patted the seat next to his. "Besides, you've always been batshit crazy. You were just trying to top yourself this time."

Lavi couldn't help chuckling as he pushed off the wall. "You're still so cruel."

"I prefer the term 'real'," Allen said with a huge grin, the first of the long night.

.

Road felt pain lace through her. She was no stranger to pain, so she continued licking at her blood lollipop while Wisely and the twins discussed how to best ambush Jabberwock. She reached to her core, where two swirls of energy were trapped in a little space of her creation. The creation would not hold for much longer – something had happened for the walls to weaken. As she swung her legs she could hear the continued echo of a name from within her, as though it were a chant against forgetting and oblivion.

And if they won against her, they would have won fair and square. She would admit that much, and in any case she and the Earl both knew she was only delaying the inevitable. Soon they would wake, and hopefully only after Allen had agreed to unlock the curse. Yet even if they woke earlier than hoped, they were still too weak. The Earl had made sure of that. Nea would never be able to go anywhere with Mana so weakened.

She listed the names. Fiddler, Mercym, Tried, Mightra. It was no longer sadness that washed through her. Just a conviction to remember. And one more too, one she didn't know where to place. Nea. For her, he was a memory that lingered in the space between remembrance and revenge.

Nibbling at the edge of the lollipop, she continued feeling the energy swirling round and round, restless in its search. The question was, would they find it? The key to escaping the dream.

She hid a smirk. The game had only just begun.

.

When they awoke again, the sky had deepened into blue. The grass rustled around them, tickling their cheeks. Leaves had fluttered down on a leg, part of a torso, a hand. The night was warm.

Nea sat up, used to the feeling of disorientation. He didn't like it, but now he had come to associate it with having remembered something. Seen in that light, he would rather the disorientation than the vague feeling of unease he had been living with before. He brushed the leaves off him, and checked on Mana. Mana had his eyes open, but he wasn't making any move to sit up. He blinked when Nea placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I dreamt, little bro," he said in a sleepy, affectionate voice.

"You did?" Nea smiled. It was hard not to when Mana sounded and looked like a kid. "Did you dream about much needed intelligence? Must have been nice."

Mana grinned and closed his eyes. "I wouldn't dare steal your dreams. I saw the boy. Allen."

Nea felt envious for a bit. All he had was a deep sleep. "And what was it about?"

"He was around ten, I think. It was Christmas. We were staying in an inn, which had dreadful wallpaper. So dreadful even Allen wrinkled his nose, though you couldn't ask for a more obedient boy. You went off to steal a little Christmas tree nobody wanted. A scraggly little thing, which looked like a dog chewed and spat it out. But Allen was so happy. He went to rummage around the garbage and brought back things. Scraps of paper, buttons, old clothes. He smelt like a little garbage truck too when he came back, and I forced him into the shower first. Then when he came out we sat around and made ornaments. Allen made the most hideous clown, but he was so proud of it. You weren't much better. You stuck some pieces of paper together and called that an angel, when it just looked like…I don't even know what it looked like. Like pieces of paper stuck together."

Nea snorted. "Of course, you'd know all about art, wouldn't you?"

"Absolutely. I made some fine paper candy canes, wouldn't you believe that? Allen kept laughing and laughing, though. We hung all the things we made around the poor little tree and it still looked like a dog had it for dinner. You were singing, and Allen was warbling along, and I was about to take out the presents we secretly prepared…when I woke up."

Mana looked wistful. He sat up and looked at his brother. "That wasn't just a dream, was it? That happened. It must have. I don't know how long ago, but it must have."

"Yes," Nea affirmed without doubt. It was too fresh a scene to not have been real. "And now we leave this world. We find our way back."

Mana ran a hand through his hair, shaking out some small leaves along the way. "We remembered him. What else do we do, to get out?" He looked around and lingered on the cottage. "Do you think we can find something there?"

Nea followed his gaze. There didn't seem to be anything new in the cottage when they had left it. But then again, they hadn't been actively searching for a way out then. "It's as good a try as any." He stood up, reaching a hand down for Mana to grasp.

The walk back had never seemed so long as it did then. Nea looked up at the sky as they walked, trying to search for the moon. There was no moon and he knew, with a primal instinct, that he needed her. That she had some huge part to play in his life, though he didn't yet know what. He could at least recall what she looked like – an orb in the sky that hid parts of herself in a shy lover's game. The lights in their cottage could never be as bright as her embrace.

Mana pushed the door open. Everything in there was as they had left it in the morning. Nea looked around, wondering where to start.

"I'll start from the room," Mana suggested. It left Nea the living room and kitchen to search.

He started with the kitchen, since it seemed less likely he might find anything there. There was nothing personal about the kitchen. It had knives and pots and pans, of no specific origin. He lingered at the pantry. There was the earl gray tea Mana favoured, some pasta for the meals Mana felt lazy, condiments of every sort – Mana was an experimental kind of cook. That, and from the dreams they've seen, they've never been rich enough to afford really good food.

When he looked in the refrigerator he could see a whole lot of tomatoes and cucumbers, some meat, frozen dinners, even ice cream. He frowned. He couldn't recall them going anywhere to buy food, yet it seemed this house stocked everything they needed to survive. Everything Mana needed to survive. The food disinterested Nea, and he didn't quite know why.

The tea, the ice cream flavours, the choice of vegetables – those were Mana's favourites. As much as Nea thought he couldn't think of anything he liked. There must be a reason for that.

"Found anything?" he heard Mana say from the room, where he was closing a drawer and opening another.

"Not sure," he called back, still thinking about the food. He took note of that and moved into the living room.

The couch and the table seemed impersonal enough. He picked up the books scattered around, looking at their covers. There were a lot on fairy tales, some detective tales, fantasy books –

Nea flipped through one fantasy book. It was an encyclopedia of sorts. Whether it was made-up he couldn't be sure. He read an entry on harpies, tracing the image with his finger. On instinct he went to the back and flipped the pages there slowly. It was a well illustrated book, hard bound, well worn. And written such that children can understand it and be spell bound by the plentiful pictures.

He stopped at the page on vampires, and wondered why it felt so familiar. He read it more carefully, tracing a finger down the page as he did so. There were no illustrations, if only because vampires had human features.

"Nothing really, except these books," Mana said as he came out, holding onto a stack of books. Nea looked up from the encyclopedia and nodded, his finger stopped on the section 'Feeds'. Mana placed the books down on the table and hooked his chin over Nea's shoulder, reading the entry as well.

"Find your own book, why don't you?" Nea muttered.

"It's always so much more interesting to steal yours," Mana explained. He sounded subdued though. His eyes were fixed on the book.

"Familiar?" Nea asked, already anticipating the response. What he found familiar it was likely Mana would too. And vice versa.

Mana nodded, his chin digging into Nea's shoulder.

Nea sighed and shut the book, placing it on the table. "One of the many mysteries. Mana, why do you eat like a pig?"

Mana didn't even blink at the change of topic. He scoffed and said, "It's more like, why don't you eat anything?"

Exactly. Nea glanced around, wondering what he hadn't searched. His eyes landed on the grand piano. He had closed it this morning after playing. With a thoughtful look he walked over and touched the top of it again. As always it felt alive under his fingers. He traced the edge, following the curve until his arm couldn't stretch further, then he traced back. He wondered what made it so different from everything else in the world.

Mana had come to stand beside him, looking down at the piano as well. He leaned against the side and watched Nea examine it. "You've always loved this piano," he said with fond eyes. "Would never stop playing it. Used to drive mother nuts."

Nea smiled and didn't say anything. He sat down on the piano bench and lifted the key cover. He didn't play though, just skimmed his fingers over the keys. It seemed to hum, just waiting for him to play a tune.

It had energy. It wasn't like the trees or the grass, though those were supposed to be alive. Nor like the skies that always misted over. Even the food didn't feel like the keys did.

The piano was like them, Nea thought, gazing into space. There was power in it. It didn't belong in this world.

.

The blast, when it came, shook the whole of Central. Alarms blared in Leverrier's office. The man lifted his head. It seemed like a scowl had been permanently etched in his features. He had had to investigate the case of Dodo, Raven, and Owl going missing, and he didn't have time for this.

But the alarm never blared, unless it was –

Standing up, he shouted, "Link, with me!"

Howard Link detached from the shadows and followed his supervisor. Leverrier walked fast. The Hunter's Moon was a dangerous moon, and it seemed like it was going to prove itself today, even as the dawn approached. He swiped his card in the lift and pressed the bottom-most button. When the lift doors shut the cabin locked. It would not open at any other floor now. The descent was long, even on the fast elevator. But it could go faster, he thought with a grim set to his face. Howard Link stood beside him, as expressionless as a stone. His claws were out and ready, Leverrier noted with approval.

When the doors opened he knew his worst fears had been confirmed. The red light was spinning and a terrible wail was emitted from the speakers. The doors were opened. They were never opened unless it was an emergency. Leverrier took the distance at a run. There were already some higher level hunters ahead of him, crowded around the entrance to the Mother Room. Other lifts poured out more hunters. At his arrival the hunters cleared a path for him. Their weapons were all at the ready, but none seemed to have attacked. At the head of the group was Madarao – Jabberwock. Gryphon was nowhere to be found, though it was her shift.

In a room crackling with electricity and spattered with blood, Kanda Yu sat, breathing heavily. Alma was out of his shell, held by Kanda. But he was alive. With one glance Leverrier could see the damage done to the machines and the shell. Only strong magic could have done this. And only one person could have done this.

"Kanda," Leverrier said in a civil tone. He stepped forward from the group of hunters, Madarao on one side, Link on the other. "So you've returned. We've been looking for you."

Kanda shot him a look. He was barely alive, but there was heat in his glare. The cuts on his body were numerous, and it wasn't just blood that flowed from them.

"You've been looking for Alma," Leverrier nodded in understanding. "We can save you, you know. We haven't forgotten your betrayal. Alma hasn't forgotten your betrayal. But you can set this right."

Kanda laughed then. A wet, raspy sort of laugh. "Fool. Your hybrids cannot overthrow Arkham."

Leverrier raised his eyebrow and took another step forward, but stopped when Kanda raised his sword. Its sharp edge glinted. His only top hunter left, Jabberwock, murmured in his ear, "Shall I restrain him, Sir?"

And he could do it too, with Kanda so weakened. But Kanda had been their top hunter – their top potential hunter – and who knew what the years had taught him? Leverrier shook his head and put out his arms to the sides, stopping both Link and Madarao.

"That may be so. Yet it would be foolish to waste your life away. Join us, Kanda Yu. Alma will be happy to have you back – "

"Stop using him as your fucking excuse," Kanda snarled. He had a fierce, mocking grin as he said, "Alma will not even wake up. I'll be in the shell beside him, sure he'll be happy. He won't even know anything. He has not known anything, since ten years ago. Your lies haven't changed, Leverrier. Your ambitions too."

Leverrier lowered his arms, considering the situation. Kanda could easily be taken down if he ordered his hunters to attack. Yet Alma was in the way, and he couldn't have him hurt. Or human hybrids would no longer be possible.

"What are you planning to do then, Kanda Yu? You know you cannot escape. And you will die with those wounds. What, pray tell, did you think you could do once you got Alma out of his shell?" he challenged, eyebrows raised. He could wait for Kanda to die. He wasn't far along now.

Kanda smiled. It didn't light up his features, nor did it seem happy. It was the smile of a man who had come to some grim conclusion. He had his arms tight around Alma, sword still held protectively over the two of them. His free hand was holding something they couldn't see.

"Fulfill a promise," he said, before Alma and him were shattered in an explosion of fire and sound.

.

In the light gray dawn, the Earl stood at his window, watching the rounded dome of Central. His young face didn't have any trace of joy on it. The Hunter's Moon was over, and half his job had just been done. Now he just needed Allen Walker to save him. He wondered if he should tell Wisely and the twins that they didn't have to do anything anymore, but it paid to be careful.

He turned around from the window. Black plumes of smoke had risen from Central. Doubtless the building could still be saved, if the humans were quick enough. The Earl wanted to see to other things.

On the first floor of the mansion, he turned right, following the scent of blood. It got stronger as he winded down the corridor, through its endless turns. When he reached the door he didn't knock before he entered, finding Tyki and Lulubell there. Lulubell bowed, face devoid of any expression. Tyki concentrated on capping a bottle. At their feet lay the shell of the hunter. Her life force was in the bottles that surrounded her, dark red in the light of the single bulb. She might have been beautiful once, the Earl thought as he looked at her wavy, golden hair. Death was unkind to her, the way the Noahs had done it.

"She is ready for the burning, Earl," Lulubell said once Tyki had kept the bottle away.

The Earl nodded. The moon might have set, but some of her power still lingered. He wasted no time lifting the girl onto the pyre. She was so light, and she looked too pale against the wood. The bottle of wildfire was handed to him by Tyki.

"Rest in peace. May death be kinder to you than the humans were," the Earl said with all tenderness, before he tipped the bottle of wildfire onto her.

Wildfire burned, but it didn't smoke. It only ate away at the girl's dead flesh. The green flame gave light to every corner of the room as it burned fiercely, devouring first her torso until only her legs and head remained. Then the fire split in both directions, gnawing away at soft flesh. There weren't even ashes left. When there was no more flesh the fire turned in on itself and died off, leaving the swinging light bulb the only source of light.

"Now we wait," the Earl said, weary beyond belief. "Now we wait."

.

Lenalee couldn't run fast enough. Even so, when she arrived, there were already other humans surrounding the building, and the few creatures who hadn't retired from their moon ritual. Lenalee felt as though her legs might give out on her, and she couldn't even muster a cry. Her throat was so dry. She looked around, frantic, trying to find a way in. Before she could push through the crowd somebody grabbed her from the back.

Kanda! She thought, whirling around. But when she looked it was Marie, who had an ashen look. She gripped at him, a soundless plea.

Marie didn't have any words of comfort. He listened, and Lenalee watched, as the smoke rose. The few humans who had been firefighters were doing their best to stop the fire. It seemed like there was more smoke than flame by now. Marie handed Lenalee a handkerchief and she took it, but didn't know what to do with it. She kept watching, waiting for the survivors. There were many. Hunters who seemed unharmed, guards who had been far from the source of the fire, and appearing in slow succession, the hunters who were suffering from injuries. Two of them were supporting a large man between them – Leverrier, her mind said. He should have died. He deserved to die. But he was badly burnt. His two supporters weren't free of injury, but they must have had some power, to escape the worst of the blast.

"Lenalee, Marie," a familiar voice said. Lenalee didn't turn to look. Her brother was emerging from the smoke, supporting an injured hunter. They weren't harmed – their laboratory was not in Central itself. His other team members were running around, the impromptu first aiders. And Lenalee could only watch.

He's not coming, she realized after nobody else emerged from the smoke. Her head realized. Her heart refused to believe it. She had the image of Kanda walking out, his sword by his side, an irritated look on his face. She had sung a tune of protection for him, but it hadn't been strong enough. She looked around, but there was no hope on the faces of those around her. Lavi watched as well, and Allen beside him, their faces solemn.

"He had only known how to save with fire," Marie said, grief in his low voice.

Yes, he had.

Lenalee wanted to hurt. She could, she knew. With Leverrier this injured she could sing a song of wrath, and he would die from internal bleeding, if he didn't have any already. She found him easily with her eyes, seeing her brother tending to him. He had always had the kinder heart, she thought, rage and sorrow and disbelief swirling within her. Among the chaos and the sharp tang of blood and burnt flesh in the air, Lenalee only wanted to hurt something.

She heard footsteps near her, and Allen took her hand. She turned to look at him, at the way he seemed so helpless. Lavi's fists were clenched by his side, but she couldn't read his eye. And Marie – his sorrow was palpable.

There was something she could do, she thought as she looked away from Allen. Not just hurt. Not now, when so many had been hurt already. Even if death was a kinder fate to them, their fear was tangible. Some of the hunters so young too. Leverrier deserved to die. But the other hunters deserved to die at their own pace.

Disentangling herself from Allen's and Marie's support, she stepped right to the edge of the hastily erected barricade. Her throat was still raw. But as she stepped up her sisters joined her, the few who had arrived at the site. Emilia, with a supportive hand on her shoulder. And on her other side Anita, her mentor, who took her hand. She didn't need to look at them to know what to sing.

Taking one breath, they sang the strongest song of healing they knew.

Tearful is this day
From which the ashes will rise
Give the dead peace
And the living solace
Grant your children Protection
Until the day we ascend
Lend us your strength
Spirits of Daylight
Grant us mercy
Mother of the Night