Well, here is the two shot I had planned to write. ;P

Here is Unknown Truth, hope you enjoy!


Unknown Truth

Esther hated fighting with him. She hated it more than anything.

The Albion government had told her that she had to go to the Empire for hiding, because they had such excellent connections there, and Esther didn't mind. She had wanted to visit her dear friend, Ion Fortuna, for a while now, so she didn't mind.

She tried to stop the tears from streaming down her face, but she couldn't. She couldn't stop the tears. The aftermath of the fight was worse than anything. It killed her. She felt as if her heart was being constricted; it was suffocating.

She sniffed, burying her head in the pillow on the bed she had been sleeping in. The pillow smelled fresh and clean; the servants had probably washed it recently.

The worst part of the fighting was not the fight itself, but the pain she felt afterwards. It was too much to bear. She cared for the young Methuselah, probably a lot more than she should, but that was another thing she couldn't help, along with the tears.

She didn't fight with him often, but when she did, it killed her. Did it do to him what it did to her?

Hm. As if.

He was much tougher than her. He had matured so much since the last time she had seen him. He had become a lot more distant with her, just like the first time they had met. He had been distant then, too, but later opened up.

She had been staying with the Duchess of Moldova and her grandson for a week.

A mere week, and she felt as if he was just pushing her away.

His dazzling crimson eyes used to soften at the sight of her.

He used to smile kindly at her, be able to joke and laugh with her.

They used to be able to talk, like close friends should.

Now his eyes were always cold and hard, like gemstones. No, his eyes weren't that bright anymore. His once brilliant red eyes now resembled identical puddles of dried blood.

He hardly ever smiled; when he did, it was mocking and bitter. He never laughed. She never heard him laugh once.

They rarely talked. When they did, Ion would usually become bitter and not want to speak with her or be near her anymore.

Sure they had always had their disagreements, she had been able to handle those small quarrels, but this had been an all-out war. Her throat felt hoarse from all of the yelling. Her cheek also stung from the blow he had given her.

That's when the fight had ended. He simply hid his eyes behind his bangs and ran off quicker than she could blink.

There was no way she would be able to sleep tonight. Too much was on her mind. She was going to break. Sitting here and feeling worse wasn't going to do anything good for her.

Esther rose up from the bed, and stumbled over to the washbasin, before a fancy mirror. She looked warily at her reflection.

She was a mess. Her hair was messy and knotted, and her left cheek was reddish, and wasn't fading. She sighed, trying to clear her sore throat. That blow would certainly leave a bruise; Ion was very strong and probably intended to do it. He almost always meant what he did.

Esther pulled a small washcloth out of a wooden cabinet on the wall.

After scrubbing her face and fixing her hair, she looked a little better. Her eyes had a dull, haunted look, and the red mark on her cheek was not fading. At all.

With another weary sigh, Esther hung the cloth on the side of the basin, and opened the doors from the guest chambers. It wasn't completely dark in Byzantium yet; it was early evening. She stumbled down the huge spiral staircase, careful not to trip over her gown.

She was startled to fund the Duchess sitting comfortable in a large, silk armchair, reading a leather-bound book and drinking some kind of liquid from a small, crystal glass.

The Duchess looked up, her pure red eyes showing a flicker of shock at Esther's appearance, but it was gone, and the beautiful Methuselah woman beamed. "May I be of assistance to you Esther?" Mirka Fortuna questioned, her rich melodic voice, echoing slightly in the vast room.

"Ah…well, My Lady, have you seen his Excellency, the Earl of Memphis?"

"My grandson?" The woman looked confused for a moment, then she smiled. "Ah, of course dear, he is up in his chambers at the moment, I believe. Shall I have a servant fetch him for you?"

"No thank you, My Lady, I would like to speak with him myself."

Mirka nodded in understanding. "Very well, then." A servant appeared at Esther's side so quickly she almost fell backwards.

"You should take this key. Most likely he has locked the door. He tends to do that."

"Thank you very much, Duchess."

"Of course, Sister Esther."

Clutching the key firmly in both hands, Esther made her way back up the stairs. She had been to Ion's room many times, and had memorized it's location. She couldn't quite recall what it was that she had been thinking of, but before she knew it, she was standing before the wide, twin doors of his room.

Esther raised a shaking had to put the key in the lock. With a trembling hand, Esther turned the key in the lock, bracing herself for what she knew would come.


I'll be updating soon.

Be waiting the second part of my two shot!

Ja ne!