Author note: I do not own 'Count Cain: Godchild.' Nor do I own any of the music box pieces I listened to on Youtube that inspired this multi-chapter fic.

Warning: AU fic, CassianxJizabelxCassandra, RiffxCain (yes, there's some of that pairing mentioned, you RiffxCain fangirls out there), and other possible pairings. There is also music box music (each chapter is inspired by a particular music box piece, and I will tell you guys which one), and, um...maybe some violence.

Constructive Criticism will be appreciated, and I hope you read and enjoy! Thanks!

P.S. this first chapter was inspired by a music box version of the song "Still Doll" found on Youtube. I don't own it. Whoever created "Still Doll" originally, owns it.

Music Box Tales

1. The Music Boxes

The large, wooden doors creaked open, the musty smell of the hall inhaled by the man's nostrils. He looked around silently, a bright lantern dangling in hand. The castle had been long abandoned for what seemed like centuries.

He had heard of what the townspeople had spoken about this place. Some said that once you went into the castle, you could never get back out. Some people said it was because there were demons living in the castle that would consume your soul. Others said it was because anyone went in the castle would go mad and kill themselves. He honestly didn't know if any of this was true. Hence, his investigation. He had to know.

The castle gates were always unlocked during the nighttime, and the nighttime only. It was then that Cassandra had slipped inside.

The castle had used to be reigned by a prince that loved stories and music so much, he would write and create his own. He and his lover eventually became so obsessed with the stories and music that they would apparently capture the souls of people, men and women, children and adults, into the music boxes they made...

If the prince and his lover loved music boxes, there would probably be a large collection of these boxes hidden away somewhere, right? That was what Cassandra wanted to know. If there was, maybe he could just listen to one or two, and then leave.

How many rooms were there? Cassandra had been looking all over the castle, and still no sign. Until...

There was a library. And connected to that library was a black, wooden door at the very back of the large room.

Cassandra had found the key simply stuck in the small keyhole. He slowly turned the silver key, hearing the gentle click of the door being unlocked. Holding back a breath, he pushed the door open quietly.

All he could do for a moment was stare in shock all around him, after taking one or two steps into the room.

Music boxes of all shapes and sizes lined the walls, each one with writing inscripted upon the lid. There was a desk in the middle of the hall, with a matching colour chair. Cassandra set his lantern onto the desk, looking at the blank papers before looking at the white quill dipped into the small inkpot beside it. There is also an assortment of black pens and a music box with no inscription on the lid on the desk as well.

Was someone just here?

Cassandra glanced at the other music boxes. They all looked so tempting to listen to...

Sensing a prescence nearby, he turned to see a man with short, silver hair standing just a little further away from him. The figure spoke softly, hoarsely, letting out a warning...

"If you value your soul, do not listen to any of the music boxes. Leave while you still can."

The figure vanished in a heartbeat.

Cassandra blinked. He hadn't been expecting that.

"If I value my soul..." Cassandra spoke the words aloud, thinking about what the figure had just said. "Leave while I still can?"

Maybe the myth about the prince and his lover locking up people's souls in music boxes was real. Maybe he should leave.


Cassandra sighed quietly. Curiosity wins this time, he thought to himself. Perhaps he could take a peek at one of the music boxes. Surely it wouldn't hurt to listen to just one...right?

He approached a nearby shelf cautiously, scared of making the slightest noise. If someone was wandering about in the castle besides himself, he didn't want to draw too much attention. He picked up a small music box, shaped like the circular tins of candy he would see in the windows of sweet shops. He read the lid silently.

"First Love"-Jizabel Disraeli

The title was enough to draw Cassandra's attention. Who was this Jizabel? Did he create the music box? Nevertheless, Cassandra was going to listen to the music, no matter what sort of risk. It was tugging at his curiosity too much; and he needed to know what sort of mystical melodies the music boxes beheld.

Slowly, carefully, he opened the lid and turned the gold key in the side of the music box.