The Forgotten Zodiac

"Now hold on, half-cat, I haven't even gotten your name yet!" Sylas stood again, standing in front of the door with an unhappy frown at his guard. "He's not a troublemaker. He's just in an unfamiliar environment and listening to his instincts. It happens. Now let go of him!" The guard obeyed, though Leo just backreeled into Sylas. The human whipped the bloody knife around, bringing it up to Leo's furry neck. "I'm not going to hurt you. I wouldn't dare. I just want you to hold still, alright? Calm down. Breathe in, breathe out. Okay?" He said quietly, while his guards looked at one another uncomfortably, one of them moving to cover the door. If the guards witnessed Leo hurting Sylas, that would be that. They had their weapons at their sides, and the one at the door was ready to draw it.

Leo slowly risked taking human form, his tail still and unmoving between his legs. He swallowed heavily, breathing hard, then did the appropriate thing for his current state.

He passed out completely, sagging into Sylas' arms.

One of the guards, a younger man with fair orange hair and a nice smile named Aaron, moved forward and said "Shall I take him, sir? I can remove him from the premises, if you wish. Or...whatever you decide upon."

"No. Put him in the guest rooms," Sylas threw the knife aside. "I'll write him a note to be certain he doesn't go anywhere until he's well again. It shouldn't take too long." Without allowing his guards to see, he tucked something into his pocket as he handed the unconscious panther over to his guards. Sylas moved over to his desk and wrote out a note quickly, handing it to the guards with a smile. "Don't look at it, just leave it on his nightstand. Understood?" When the guards nodded and moved off, Sylas finally allowed himself to fall into bed, asleep in minutes thanks to bloodloss and him pushing himself.

((The note reads (in fancy handwriting, make sure you mention that xD), 'Dear Person-who-never-told-me-his-name,

Please let it be known at once that this note is not intended to threaten you or force you into anything at all. But it would be very pleasant if you were to join me for breakfast/lunch/dinner, depending on when you wake up. You probably don't want to leave without seeing me first, as I have something of yours that you may or may not want back, so do join me!

With good wishes and happy tidings, Sylas Krow.

P.S.: I'm not giving anything back until I at least know your name.'))

Leo slept heavily for the rest of the night, and when he woke, it was mid-afternoon. He blinked his eyes open groggily and rubbed them, wondering where he was. He sat up and glanced around, slowly piecing together his memory, then spotted the note sitting on the nightstand. He reached out and took it, then opened it and read the following:

'Dear Person-who-never-told-me-his-name,

Please let it be known at once that this note is not intended to threaten you or force you into anything at all. But it would be very pleasant if you were to join me for breakfast/lunch/dinner, depending on when you wake up. You probably don't want to leave without seeing me first, as I have something of yours that you may or may not want back, so do join me!

With good wishes and happy tidings, Sylas Krow.

P.S.: I'm not giving anything back until I at least know your name.'

By the time he had got to the end, Leo was glaring furiously at the fancy, elegant handwriting. "Not intended to threaten me or force me into anything, my tail!" he thought, shoving the note into his pocket and tumbling out of the bed. He cautiously made his way out, slinking along the halls and turns of the noble house, following the scents until he made it to the dining room. He carefully peeked inside, glancing around fearfully, his yellow eyes wide.

Sylas was sitting at the end of the table, hardly even paying attention to his surroundings. One of two guards was behind him, and a single maid was sweeping in the corner closest to the door. Sylas was looking through some papers and letters; he was in charge of the household while his parents were away, after all. That included checking the paid fees sent in from those renting houses in town, and sending out payments to those who worked in the various shops and stores for them. It wasn't too bad; just a lot of counting. Sylas paused on one letter with a royal seal.

He opened it, reading it with a small smile. "Oh, the queen of Storaph is going to pay this little country a visit. The king wants my parents there at the reception, how nice."

"It's a great honor for Grittle to be receiving such a guest," His guard said.

"Not quite. She's probably coming to try and buy this poor tiny country. The Senate's House won't have it...how many days do you think 'till she's assassinated?" Sylas leaned back in his chair, looking up at the guard.

"What?"

"I give it a day and a half. Tops." Sylas shrugged.

"T-then we must warn Storaph at once!" His guard exclaimed, horrified.

"And what? It'll be a day's ride there, and this reception thing is tomorrow. I hate how short-notice these royalty always are. The queen will already have arrived by that time, Borimere. And even then, she wouldn't leave just because the son of a rich person wants her to. I don't want to get involved in petty political squabbles, anyways." There was silence for a little while, then, "Mother and Father will return tonight. Give the letter to them when they arrive, and re-melt the wax seal so it looks unopened, alright?" Sylas handed the letter off.

"...Aye, sir." Borimere sighed heavily, then looked up as he spotted movement. "Sir, your guest has awoken..."

"Ah! You're just in time for afternoon tea," Sylas said, standing up at once and looking towards the door. "Do, come in. We're all friends here, are we not?"

((DUNDUNDUUUUUN plottwist. xD

And just so you know, this does actually fit into the timelines. It's two years after Nate was made Head Guard, and fifteen years before the Obelisk Incident (pretty sure), which lasted ten years in itself. So that's 25 years back in total, and if they were 18ish at the time, that puts them at 43ish.

So yeah, I was thinking about what to do and I realized that the timeline fell absolutely perfectly in place because we hadn't really chosen ages for Leo and Sylas other than 'old'. So we can have the Burning of Grittle be the incident that Leo saves Sylas from, and the incident that marks Sylas' first day as an orphan/adventurer. :3))

((That...sounds...AWESOME! : D I can't believe that popped into your head.))

"No, we're not!" Leo growled, stalking forward and slamming his clawed hands down onto the table. "You took something from me, you little brat, and I want it back. You took my claw necklace; give it back or I swear I'll..."

The guards in the room all looked his way.

Leo fumed, puffing out his cheeks for a moment, then threw them a dismissive gesture.

"You shouldn't talk to Sir Sylas like that, half-cat," Aaron said, giving the teenage panther a slight glare.

((It makes me realize how wrong Nate's age is, though. If this was 25 years back, and Nate was 17ish at the time, that makes him 42 and not 23. .3.

If all this is just 20 years back, though, he can be 3. -derp- Well, we can say that Dragonians only count every two years because of their dragon side. 34 would be Nate's technical age, but keeps him at 17 at the time. Which makes him 46 literally, but 23 figuratively.))

"Watch yourself," Sylas warned with a small smile, brushing the letters and papers aside as the tea was brought out. "Even the maids are highly trained in the case of any form of attack. They have to be; a lot of people are out to get the Krow family back from various things. You would not believe how many times villagers have come to me weilding blades. When really, all they have to do is ask...we're not tyrannical dictators, we share what we have.

"Now that I've explained that, perhaps you would like to know who attacked you last night. Rorak and Tim; they're business men, of a sort. More like conmen and loan sharks, if you ask me, but they call themselves business men. And believe it or not...they would have killed you. They don't like to leave witnesses. Their crimes are never punished because they always pay off the soldiers who catch them. It makes my stomach churn when I think about what they would have done to you. And I don't even know your name! Would you please tell me, half-cat? That's all I want, really. You tell me your name, and I'll give you the necklace back. You don't even have to stay for tea." He was being honest, to boot. There was no trickery in his words. He was truly concerned for the person he spilled his own blood to save; the stranger he had gotten himself hurt over.

The half-cat sat there and fumed, glancing around for the exits and noting where they were, then walked forward nonchalantly and leaned close to Sylas. The guards were ready in an instant, prepared for any move the panther might make. But he didn't hurt Sylas. He merely tilted his head back and studied the boy, then spoke a few simple words.

"Leo. My name is Leodhaius."

Then he held his hand out pointedly for his necklace.

"Nice to meet you, Leo." Sylas took his hand in his and shook it. When he let go and moved his hand away, the necklace with the tooth on it was in Leo's hand. The boy sat back, picking up his teacup. "I won't force you, but there are two cups of tea here...surely you wouldn't make me drink both," He chortled, smiling a bit.

"I couldn't care less," was the answer as Leo left the room, not once looking back.

A few days later, everything changed.

*

Fire. Fire was everywhere. The queen of Storaph had been assasinated and pandemonium had struck the town. Leo's only thought at this point was to get out, avoiding the fire and the people. But a thought struck him; that boy. Sylas. Was he okay? Leo shook his head, wondering why he was even thinking of some random kid like Sylas, then decided to sneak back and just see. Just to reassure himself that the kid had gotten out.

((This goes before the 'a few days later' line.))

Sylas watched him go, letting out a heavy sigh. "Are you...alright, sir?" His guard questioned.

"Yes, Borimere. I'm 'alright'. Just..." Sylas trailed off, not finishing his sentence. 'Alone' was what he was going to say, but he reminded himself of how ridiculous that sounded. His guards were here, his maids were here. But his guards weren't exactly his friends, his parents were always gone, the kids in this town were practically raised to hate him, and he had been nearly killed a few times by now.

He was lonely and bored.

*

((And this as usual.))

Sylas was indeed still in his house, but not because he wanted to be. If he had his way, he would have fled with the others in his city when the attacks first started. Everything had gone as Sylas had predicted; the queen had been assassinated and her head sent back to Storaph. That was when Storaph retaliated; he had no idea what was going on, though. Only that he had heard from his guards that some freak blowing fire had come into the outskirts last night and things just went up in flames from there. As the fires spread over all of the tiny country of Grittle, people were being killed left and right; and some people had taken this chaos as an opportunity to cause trouble.

Sylas' guards and maids had all been killed, their bodies left in a pile just inside the door, a morbid blockade keeping the door shut tight. Just through the door and up the stairs, Sylas, Rorak and Tim were in the dining room, as well as a few others who clearly hated the Krow family. Some people had already demolished the house, while others just stood by and jeered and watched. Sylas was tied to a chair, silently wishing he had demanded that he go with his parents to the reception. Everyone there had been killed overnight; being dead was better than being here, though.

Neither of them were well versed in real torture, but they were definitely good at beating people up. Sylas was quite the sight; he had bruises and burns all over his body, and a few people had thought to grab food from the kitchen and throw it at him. He had a broken arm and one of them had driven a nail into his left ear, which was bleeding profusely and would probably never work properly again. The chair was now flipped over, the back of the chair against the floor. Tim shoved his muddy, bloody boot next to Sylas' head. "Kiss my shoe," He demanded. Sylas turned; and spat on it instead. The boot was shoved into his face, and then Tim kicked him roughly in the gut and slammed his foot down on the rich boy's chest.

"Hang him out to dry!" One of the watchers jeered. That was basically capital punishment here in Grittle; the subject was hung upside-down from their feet over a fire, and were dipped into the flames every once in awhile before the watchers got bored. Then they were dropped into the flames in full, and burned to death.

"Ha! Perfect." Rorak roared with laughter, grabbing the back of the chair and starting to drag it into the main hall. There were chandeliers there, and those tearing up the house had already left a nice pile of wood. They just had to light it and leave the boy hanging.

((Fixed))

Suddenly, the air was filled with the harsh crackle of flames, which were different from the ones outside. A tornado of fire swept down and engulfed Rorak inside it, burning him to a crisp. A lethal shape swept down and slammed into Tim, bowling him over and slicing claws down his throat and chest.

Leo whipped around, planting his hands on the floor and using that as a pivotal spot to swing his body around and kick one of the onlookers in the chest, sending them falling back wards. He was obviously a fire mage, as punctuated by a burst of fire from his hands that lit many of the onlookers on fire. He turned to Sylas, his yellow eyes reflecting the flames around them, and sliced his claws down the boy's bonds.

In the next second, he had Sylas held tightly in his arms and was heading for the door.

The screams started up at once, and several people fled. Sylas gripped Leo's shirt with his free hand, his eyes half-closed and blood dripping from a cut on his cheek. That didn't stop him from smiling, though as Leo carried him out towards the front door.

Even though no one dared follow them, they weren't in the clear yet. As they were reaching the main hall, the doors were slammed open by none other than the Head Guard of the Storaph Palace, and the leader of the Honor Guard. Nate Furhblast himself, the Dragonian of Storaph. Following him appeared to be a handful of simple soldiers; but one look at the black ribbons and blood on their weapons and armor told a different tale. This was the Honor Guard of Storaph, but a step higher. The Black Legion, a small group of soldiers specially trained to destroy entire cities at a time with as few escapees as humanly possible.

Nate took one look at the ruined home and gave out his orders. "I heard screaming from the east wing. Flush out anyone who remains there, and start the fires. Mal and Greave, come with me. We'll cover the west wing and burn it; the fires should spread to the main part of the house before long. Alpha code; kill on site and leave runners to the archers outside." Most of the soldiers moved off, and Nate moved forward, but paused and took in a deep breath. "I smell blood," He said quietly. "Refugees from the first towns, perhaps? No, that doesn't make sense...this is the Krow household. Knowing that, and having heard the screaming upstairs..."

Nate suddenly appeared in the doorway to the hallway Leo had stopped in. "Sylas Krow. And who's this? A slave, trying to save you?" He snorted. "Don't worry. I'll make it quick." He sucked in a breath and blew out fire at the both of them, fury clear in his eyes.

Leo snarled and tucked Sylas closer to him, then astounded them by turning several quick backflips with Sylas still in his arms. He didn't care if the boy got dizzy or not, but it didn't matter. He darted to a window nearby and glanced out, noting that this was a very tall house. That also apparently didn't matter, as in the next second, he had stepped up onto the sill and leapt out, making a miraculously agile landing below without so much as hurting himself.

Then he darted away like a shadow in the night.

Arrows were fired, but none of the archers were quick enough to land any hits. Nate ran to the window, watching as Leo fled. "There's no time to go after them," Nate snarled. "It doesn't matter. The boy isn't rich and influential anymore. No one will pay attention to what he has to say, if he says anything at all." He turned back to the two that had followed him. "To the west wing." They marched off to burn and destroy the house.

"You...yo-you saved me..." Sylas breathed, closing his eyes as Leo carried him away from the fires and destruction. He would have questioned why, but...now wasn't the time.

"Shut up," Leo hissed, panting as he ran on. "Just shut up and keep quiet. I don't have breath to waste on talkin', ya know?" There was silence for a long time, until the panther finally stopped by a stream, deep in the forest. He panted heavily, glancing back the way they had come with his ears perked high over his head. He stood like this for several more long minutes, then finally relaxed as much as one could who had just ran from killers while carrying an injured boy that they didn't know nearly at all.

He set Sylas down next to the river, then started up a small fire to keep them warm. He next fished a rag out of his pocket and got it wet, then began carefully cleaning Sylas' wounds and bruises with it, holding the boy's arm up as he cleaned the sore spots.

Sylas winced a bit with every dab. "S-so...you're a mage," He said quietly, smiling a bit. "I guess I'm lucky..." He swallowed hard, closing his eyes. "Why?" He finally found the time to ask. "Why did you save me? You didn't have to...my parents are dead and my house is in ruins..."

Leo was quiet for a while longer, then he said "It wasn't for your friendship or anything like that, so don't get your hopes up. I just felt like repaying my dept to ya. Ya know...for helping me. So I helped ya. Simple as that." He had a faint accent to his voice, which Sylas now heard clearly as he spoke. It was becoming clearer as he relaxed further. It was a more rual country tone. "So after this, I'm leavin'," he finished, pulling a roll of bandage out of his other pocket and starting to, very slowly and tenderly, wrap it around the cleaned wounds.

Sylas was mostly silent again, still wincing with pain as his arm was touched even slightly. "Well...thank you. Either way. Even if you claim not to be a friend or to be doing this for friendship...it's awfully kind of you." He closed his eyes, forcing himself to relax as Leo took care of his wounds. "It's a little hard to hear you, though..." He said with a small frown, reaching up to his ear, feeling the nail there. "Oh...that won't come out easy..."

"I'll get 'round to it," Leo said, concentrating fully on his work. "You just sleep. I'll take care of all of it." His voice was rough and rugged for his age, but it didn't seem to bother him. Again, his hand went for his pocket. After feeling around for a moment, he pulled out a syringe that was filled with a pink liquid and felt along Sylas' arm, locating a vein and inserting the needle so carefully that Sylas didn't even feel the prick.