Once upon a Time... [Lynn x Haseo] (Mature)

The town of Hale was a quiet and peaceful village, numbering only fourteen people total. One of these people, was but a boy. A young man of only thirteen who dreamed of great things. Often, he would pretend that he was a courageous knight, questing to rid the world of evil. Other times, he was a powerful wizard, with lightning, fire, and ice crackling at his fingertips. And then there were other times… that he dreamed he was an evil warrior, and the people quaked at the sight of him, offering him great coffers of gold and tribute.
The fate of this boy and the lives that he touches, unfolds here…
“Hey, puny!,” shouted one of the boys pushing a smaller boy around, shoving him into one of his friends. “Whatcha gonna do? Cry for your mommy? Ha ha!”
“Yeah, I think he is! C’mon, Ricky, shove him down! Make him eat dirt!”
The boy was shoved once more, before he spun with the shove and slammed his fist against one of the boys’ faces. The boy fell back and crashed against the ground, but the others descended on the smaller boy, their fists flying and beating him to the ground, one of them kicking him in the face.
The boy cried out and one of the town guards wandering past happened to notice the beating, and ran over promptly, “Hey, you there, knock it off!” One of the boys saw the guard approaching, and picked up a rock, smacking it against the boy’s on the ground face, drawing a sharp cry from him and startled glances from his companions as they all ran away, while the beaten boy lay on the ground, clutching his face. The guard knelt down by his body, and rolled him over, a startled cry escaping from his lips as he saw the blood running down the boy’s face.
He awoke from the dream with a startled cry, black and red leather covered hands covering his face as he jerked from the bed. The man reached over to his bedside table and picked something up, setting it on his face quickly. It was a white mask that covered his entire face but for his eyes, showing the electric blue colors in the candle-light. Looking out the tavern window, he saw the bustling city of Rookridge. Breathing softly, the man sat up from the bed, exposing his loose fitting black shirt with red trim, a small red cowl draped over his shoulders. Reaching over the side of the bed, he picked up a sheath of a sword and set it on his back. Long, black hair fell around the mask, framing it and falling to the middle of the man’s back.
The man walked out of the upstairs of the tavern and came to the rowdy, rambunctious and loud tavern proper. Many people looked over to him and laughed at his strange, feminine looks, but the man ignored them, quietly rubbing his leather covered hands together.
“Hey, freako!,” shouted one of the drunken patrons as he stood from his stool, waving his ale around and spitting all over one of his neighbors. “I think you look pretty, boy… why don’t you come over here and take off that mask and show us all what a pretty smile you got there?!”
Several of his companions broke into jeering cries of laughter at that, all of them slapping the bar and smacking each other’s shoulders. The man just looked over with a quiet stare, and turned away, moving out of the door. But the drunken man wasn’t finished, picking up his glass of ale and throwing it at the back of the man’s head.
The blow staggered him for a moment, nearly sending him over to the side, but he snapped one foot down and held his footing. Turning ever so slowly, he picked a few broken shards of glass out of his hair and stared at the man, who only puffed out his chest. “What’re you going to do about it, boy? Huh?!”
The man chuckled from behind his mask and held out a single hand. First the palm filled with red fire, forming into a spinning ball of destruction, before it grew wider, and wider, and wider until it finally encompassed the man’s entire hand. The man pulled his arm back and flung the fireball at the man, setting him ablaze, along with a few of his companions. The men fell over screaming and hollering, while a guard rushed up to the entrance of the tavern.
“Madman! What have you done?”
The masked man just turned to look at the guard and shrugged lightly, before he held up a single finger and pointed it at him. A rasping voice broke from behind the mask as he uttered a single word. “Obey.” The guard stiffened, arms going rigid at his sides and eyes closing as he began to twitch and spasm. The man jerked his hand up, grabbing the sword from his belt and pointed it at his stomach. Sweat began beading on his forehead, breathing heavily and shaking as he screamed, “NO! No, please no!”
The masked man tilted his head to the side, ebony hair falling across his white mask before he lowered his hand and the guard’s sword fell from his grasp as the man gasped and fell on his rump. The masked man looked over his shoulder once more at the struggling, burning men that screamed, and watched the futile attempts of the other patrons as they tried to put their companions out; foolishly using alcohol and just setting them ablaze even more.
Chuckling again, the masked man walked out of the tavern, much to the chagrin of the barkeep. Walking through town, he heard the cries of the guards and citizens as they rushed to the tavern, water buckets in their hands as they saw the smoke rise to the sky, the great dancing plumes casting shadows on the night ground.
“Reaper…”, came an unearthly voice, calling to him by the moniker he’d assumed at the tender age of sixteen. Looking around, Reaper frowned behind his mask and looked about, sighing and reaching up to grab the red hilt of his sword.
Drawing his obsidian blade partially from its sheath, Reaper looked around again and rasped, “Come out, come out, wherever you are…”
“Reaper… Reeeeaper. Reaper!”
“Show yourself, demons! Show yourselves or be gone!,” Reaper rasped again, his voice low and warning. The man turned again, and found nothing that could be seen. Throwing his ebony hair back, the man turned and walked down the street, sword still held at the ready, the tip dragging along the ground.
“Reaper…”
Reaper growled lowly and ducked into an alley, looking back and forth, trying to find where the voice was coming from. As he looked back, he could have swore that he heard the voice coming from the direction of the tavern he’d just left. Frowning behind his mask, the man started for it, the tip of his sword drawing a line along the dirt road of the city. He would find this voice… and silence it. No one dared to enter his mind and would so easily escape his wrath.

*****
Sweeping up the broken glass Alexia glimpsed herself in the mirror above the bar. With her long ebony hair falling in her face, covering her scarred cheek and her startling, haunted green eyes staring out from behind the dark curtain of hair she looked half possessed. Once she believed herself to be pretty with a healthy body and average eyes. Happiness seemed to glow from her eyes once upon a time, but that all changed one day long ago. “No,” she said to herself. “I will not go through this again. I will not let that abomination and his actions haunt me any longer.” With resolve, she began to listen to the patrons speak of the possessed looking man that caused so much of the damage she now had to clean.
“He attacked me for no good reason I tell ya! I was just sittin here minding my own and he walked up with fire covering his hand and then I swear he just threw it at me for no good reason. I wasn’t doing nothing! Ah!” the burned man said, grabbing at his burnt flesh in pain. Whimpering as he was lead out of the tavern.
Alexia spotted the guard from earlier talking to the other and walked towards them, wondering what they were saying about the masked man.
“He must have been a demon. He used his magicks to turn my sword against me. It was just floating there, about to stab me, but I looked him in the eye and told him to sojourn and the sword dropped from the air to rest at my feet. Afterwards the demon ran away. He must have been fearful of what I would have done to him if he stayed any longer.
Liars, all of them. Alexia thought to herself. The burnt man provoked him and the guard looked like he would cry any second. Why must they tell lies and make the poor man antagonistic when he was the victim of others cruel actions. He has been since he was a little boy. When that guard looked on him like he was a monster because those mean little devils hurt his face. Wait, how do I know this? I’ve never seen this man before… Feeling a sudden wave of desperation Alexia turned around to see the masked man entering the tavern again. Looking to the guards to see what they would do she noticed they were no where to be seen.

*****
Reaper walked through the door and glanced about, watching as the guard from earlier turned tail and ran at the sight of him. Reaper only smirked behind his mask at the man’s companion, who gave him a curious look and turned to follow the other guard. Stepping slowly into the tavern, he looked around as the voice again began to plague him.
“Reaper… Wouldn’t your mother be so proud… Frightening innocents… Burning those that anger you…”
The man growled slowly and raised one hand to his head, his emotions a tumult of anger and confusion. Sliding his sword in its sheath, he looked to the barkeeper and moved forward slowly, brushing past a barmaid that was in his way. He barely glanced at her from the corners of his eyes, noting the striking emerald hue of her eyes. Reaper brushed the thought of the unimportant girl aside and stalked right up to the barkeeper, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and jerking him forward, forcing him to look at his horrible blue eyes, one of them tinted white from blindness.
“How many wizardly folk have been here, other than myself?,” he demanded in his raspy voice.
The barkeeper barely swallowed the lump in his throat before Reaper shook him violently, and he gasped out, “None, sir! Just yourself.” Reaper growled and shook him again, even more violently and the barkeeper screamed, “I swear it, Reaper, I swear it!”
Letting the man’s shirt go, he tilted his head to the side and looked over his shoulder at the barmaid. The moment he looked at her, the voices grew stronger, and more forceful.
“REAPER! REAPER!”
Reaper threw his head back and screamed, “That’s it! It’s you that does this to me, you unholy witch!” Reaching up, he drew his obsidian sword and began advancing on the girl.
“No! Reaper, she is the key. Do not slay her!”
Reaper stopped and frowned, asking aloud, “The key? The key to what?” Many of the patrons looked at the man as though he was mad, and he likely was.
“The Key… to your wishes… The Key… to your Past.”
Reaper tilted his head to the side at that and looked hard at the barmaid, before striding forward and thrusting his sword, planting the tip at the tip of her nose, hovering a mere inch from her face.
“Good evening,” he rasped, “You’ll be leaving with me, milady… You have something I want, that I do not yet know.” He reached out slowly towards her, using his allure of magic to try and charm her mind, trying to pull at her and take her into a realm where he ruled her, where he controlled her.

*****
Staring into the masked man’s electric blue eyes, Alexia felt a strange tugging at the front of her mind. She felt drawn to the masked man. Rithrin, she knew his name to be. How she knew this she had no idea, but she knew it just the same. Suddenly, she heard a shout from behind her. The patrons were screaming in fright. It was inconsequential to her, yet it still broke the spell Reaper had over her. “I will be going no where with you. I will not be leaving my child to go traipsing off with some strange masked man that calls himself Reaper, no matter what you think I possess that you desire,” Alexia said, letting the words spill from her mouth before thinking about his reaction. She shrank back, feeling his anger and desperation towards her, not knowing what he would do next.
*****

Reaper lifted his head slowly and smirked behind his mask as the voices grew deafening. He took a threatening step forward and reached up, drawing his sword from his back as he said softly, "You are going to go traipsing off with some stranger. And if you don't... I will kill you. And then who will be left to take care of your precious child?"

Taking another step forward, his single eye in the mask widened after a moment and he said, "Or if you really want, bring the child with you. Either way, you are coming with me woman, and if you fight me... Death will come to you."

Snapping his hand out, he grabbed hold of the woman's hair and dragged her right up to him, setting the tip of his sword at her throat.

"Now... make your choice... you will either come with me, get your baby and still come with me, or you will... you -will-... die... and I swear, if you choose that, I will find your child and throw it into a fire."

Alexia stared at Reaper, knowing it wasn’t an idle threat that passed his lips. “Fine,” she said to him with a glare. “I’ll go with you, but you must give me time to prepare. There’s a lot I need to do to get ready. I need to make arrangements for my baby, get my things together, and tell them I will no longer be working here,” she listed out loud.

“I need at least a day to make my preparations. I’ll be ready by morning.” With that she turned and walked away, not giving him the option of denying her.

The first place she went was to her home over the bar and gathered her child’s most needed belongings in a satchel. After she finished placing it all in the satchel she walked to her only friend, Marie’s house, where her child currently was, to talk to her friend about keeping the baby. Marie is incapable of having children, as Alexia knew, and was well off when it came to money, so she was sure her friend would have no issues with keeping Alexia’s child rather than put the baby in danger by making Alexia take him with her. Alexia had a feeling that where ever they were going, it would be no place for a two year old. As she knew, Marie was delighted at the prospect of having a child in her home to take care of.

Alexia next went back to her apartment to gather things that she knew she would need while traveling to put in another satchel. She grabbed all of her basic necessities, some bread and cheese, planning to steal some dried meat from the bar below, and the daggers she stole from her father’s collection before she left. Including the one that made her tremble just to look at. She closed her eyes for a second, calming her racing thoughts and raging heart before she went down to the bar, to talk to the owner.

The owner was very upset at the prospect of her leaving. He knew that she was the best worker there and was a bit protective of her, knowing what had happened to her causing her to relocate to this particular place. Before she went upstairs to rest before her journey began in the morning he pulled her to the back room, giving her a bag full of food and another full of herbs. He explained to her that she may need the herbs and told her what each herb could do. She thanked him profusely before she went upstairs.

That night she had a difficult time sleeping, yet felt rejuvenated when she awoke at daybreak. Alexia walked downstairs, with all of her most needed belongings with her to see Reaper waiting for her.

A growl passed from Reaper’s throat as the woman pulled from his grasp and he slowly lowered his sword to the ground, staring after her as she walked away. The voices reached a fevered pitch then, but the man ignored them for a long moment.

He turned his eye on the barkeep, who gulped after a moment. Smiling behind his mask at the fact that he could still elicit responses such as that, the dark clothed man slid his sword onto his back and walked away.

His feet idly clopped on the ground as he paced back and forth in the main room of the bar, his eye focused on the ground. Finally tiring of his pacing, he moved off to take a seat in the bar and stared out the window. He remained there the entire night, eternally staring off into the distance.

While his gaze was staring out of the window, it wasn’t where his mind was. No his mind was somewhere far away. Somewhere distant. Fires roared in front of his face, screaming surrounded him, and the sounds of a child crying filled his ears. Everyone was running, no one was just standing. Bandits chased down the men, running them through and tore through the doors of the houses, and the sounds of screaming women filled the air.

He remembered running… running through the flames. Trying to navigate around the bandits that ravaged his home. He remembered making it to his mother and father’s home, slowly creeping through the already open door, thinking that his mother could save him. Laying there on the ground, was his father, a blade stuck through his back… and he could hear his mother grunting. Grunting something awful. He saw her on the bed, a man laying on top of her. His eyes widened and-

He snapped around to face the barkeep as he approached him, his crazed eye shaking for a moment, before it slowly stilled and his lid began to close lazily. The barkeep took a step back, before leaning forward and lighting the candle on the table.

Later that morning, Reaper sat by himself as the bar began to fill up. And finally, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, she came down the stairs. Alexia was packed and ready to go, and he immediately rushed over to greet her. Not a word passed his mouth as he snatched her wrist and all but dragged her out of the bar. Taking her through the streets, people moved out of the way, and some nodded to each other as they watched the woman and man leave the town.

As Reaper left the town behind, the emerged into a lush, verdant forest. The forest was large and the trees tall, and woodland life scurried through it. Reaper hated it with a passion. It was everything that he despised about the world. Stomping along the path, he looked around with his mask covered face, a frown touching his features behind it. He looked to the woman and frowned, shifting uncomfortably. Now that he had her, he had no idea what to do with her. He supposed he could just walk around until the voices said something again, but in the meantime.

"How long have you had the child that you spoke of? And where is the father?"

"How long have you had the child that you spoke of? And where is the father?"

The question startled Alexia. She was used to people ignoring her, never asking about her life, much less her past. She didn’t like her past. Alexia tried everyday to forget it. Unfortunately, some memories were burned into her consciousness. She fought against them now, losing the battle.


“No father, please, don’t do this,” Alexia begged her father. “Please father!”

“Shut up girl. This is your mother’s fault. If she hadn’t died, I wouldn’t need to do this to her. Blame her,” her father growled as he raped his only child.


“The man that fathered my son is nothing more than a rapist. He’s gone now,” Alexia told Reaper.


Alexia slowly walked up to her father, stomach now protruding out as the baby her father had unwittingly forced upon her grows inside of her. “Father?” Alexia whispered. “Are you awake father?”

Grinning as she walked up to him, she knew he was once again in a drunken stupor. Not uncommon after her mother died, even less so after he raped his daughter, giving himself a child and grandchild at the same time.

“Goodbye father,” She said quietly, malice in her eyes as she took the knife from behind her back and ran it across his throat, pushing just hard enough to cut him deeply.


Afterwards, she had grabbed her stuff and ran. Ran far from her father, her town, her previous life.

Alexia looked at Reaper before saying, “I killed him. He was my father, he raped me, and so I killed him. Then I ran. Two weeks later I had my son. That was a little over two years ago. No one from my town knows why I ran from the town I was raised in, they just know that I’m here now. Or, at least I was.