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The story is now on http://thetwoelements.blogspot.com

This blog will now be used for author's notes and drafts (e.g character profiles, rough excerpts, etc.)

It's going to be a while before I post anything decent, though.

AN: Rewrite

Okay, so I know I've been away for so long due to some big ass exam I had to take and didn't really have time to get my creative juices flowing. But in between cramming my head with Physics and Chemistry, I had a few brief moments to think about the story and how it'll develop. I wrote a few drafts on the next couple of chapters too (very brief ones that were about a page or two) and realized that the whole thing just doesn't come together quite right. I realized that there were a whole load of flaws, plus I didn't lay enough foundation for the story to actually work, in terms of each character's past and how it would affect the way they interact with each other. While writing comes as easily to me as breathing, it is a complex thing and it can be so frustrating when things don't go as planned. As I recall, when I first planned out this story, it had a somewhat (okay, very) different storyline. For instance, I had a few more characters to meddle with and Angela was actually Eduard's younger half sister instead of being older.

And then there was the worry of Eduard's character. He's my main protagonist, and I had trouble trying to give him more depth. Instead, I focused more on Ellie (whose name had originally Michelle) and left Eduard to fend for himself. He wound up being underdeveloped and hardly believable, almost like a typical hero. To me, at least. Had he been insignificant to the story, I would have left it alone, but his very existence was the crux of my story. I had to do something. So , I decided to get a second opinion. And [this] is the result. Okay, I was surprised by her input, and it gave me more faith in Eduard being a solid character.

Which brings us to the next problem - how? I haven't written anything decent since late October (aside from boring school essays), and I'm afraid I might not be able to get back into writing. After all, skills come and go. Use it or lose it. I just hope I still can get back in motion. And I have to restructure the story so that every part fits like a well-tailored glove. So I suppose I'm going to start back at square one (I bet you guys are sick of this - when is this ass going to finish the damn story, eh?) where things aren't less of a mess.

So, I suppose that's all for now. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!

Chapter Eleven

          Desperate pounding on the backdoor. Stealing nervous glances behind him. Damn it, were they coming after him? Of course they were. He was their guinea pig. The real question was whether or not they were close by. It was past midnight and there would surely be agents on watch. Curfew was serious business around here.

          C'mon, dammit,he thought furiously. Open the damn door!

          His head hurt. And the left side of his torso was screaming with pain. The scratchy white fabric he was wearing was already caked with red in several places. His skin was littered with purplish bruises and angry red marks. He could still taste the coppery blood in his mouth. It was, he'd decided, pure hell.

          Waiting was pure hell.

          "Open up!" he cried in a voice he couldn't recognize as his own. Raw, hoarse. Exhaustion was clear in his ragged breaths, the way his shoulders were sagging. Never before had he felt so drained. And just moments ago he had been thrilled with such euphoria from escaping. The adrenalin pumping in his veins, his Craft pulsing throughout his very being. But he was tired now. Tired, so very tired. He would have to make a run for it soon, when the agents finally catch up.

          The door opened after a long while, revealing a tired-looking Bryce standing in the doorway. His gray eyes seemed to sigh and the corners of his mouth were drooping down in agreement to his eyes. His face was unshaven and the stubble made him look even older than he was supposed to look.

          "Alexei," Bryce sighed.

          "Please," he pleaded. "You owe me one."

          "You can't stay here."

          Alexei's heart sank. Why? Why was he refusing to help? Had the Organization somehow managed to turn Bryce against him, too? No, that wasn't fair. They were cutting him off from all resource, cornering him until he would finally bend to their will. No. He wouldn't let that happen. He couldn't let it happen.

          "Am I supposed to kill you too, now?" he growled, a horrible and twisted smile turning the corners of his mouth. "Traitor."

          Bryce stepped back, hurt by the remark. It took him a few moments to regain his composure and after he did so, it was a threat that escaped his lips like bitter poison.

          "Get out of here, or I'll call the agents."

          Alexei threw back his head and laughed. Just what was the difference, anyway? He would still be caught, nonetheless. He shook his head as his laughter died down. Running a hand through his unkempt shoulder length hair, he met his old friend's eye.

          "I understand," he said slowly. "You wouldn't want to be seen with Public Enemy Number One. All right. I won't bother you anymore."

          "Heads up, mate!"

          Eduard had been so distracted by the strange vision that had filled his head for a moment that he had lost track of where he was. By the time he realized that he was in the middle of a basketball game, one of the boys - his name was Nate, if Eduard wasn't mistaken - had lobbed the ball in his direction.

          "Whoops!" Eduard cried as he caught it, almost letting it slip past his fingers. Fumbling for balance, he dribbled the ball across the court, ducking past the other boys. Sweat was trickling along his skin, but he still felt hot, as if he was on fire. To add to the chaotic state he was in, he had a massive headache and the strange hallucination had left much to be worried about. Just what the heck was that all about?

          A momentary fugue, Ed, he told himself. That's it.

          "Pass the ball!"

          "I'm open!"

          "Get the ball!"

          Eduard ran; ball bouncing smoothly beneath his hand. He blocked out the shouts of the other boys and flung the ball into the basket. Everything moved past him in a blur. He could hear the pounding of his shoes against the ground, the excited cheer erupting among his teammates - boys he had only met mere seconds ago. His heart was pounding in his chest and he was out of breath. His head was throbbing too.

          And something just didn't feel right.

          "Ellie." The name slipped out involuntarily. Panting hard, he swallowed. In the next breath, he murmured, "Ellie who?"

          Slowing down, he let go of the ball, letting it bounce away into the tangled mess of boys fighting for it. Cold sweat drenched his skin, chilling a thin line all the way down his spine.

          Ellie who?

          But you know her, another part of his mind insisted. You know her.

          He fell to his knees, suddenly aware of something else happening. His skin tingled, and he wasn't sure if it was in a good way or a bad way. It felt as if someone was passing an electric current through him, and god damn him, it felt good. In a way. Funny, but good. It made him feel giddy, for some reason. It made him feel like laughing. It was like cocaine, setting his senses on fire. Lighting him up like a Christmas tree full of decorations.

          "Shit," he swore through gritted teeth.

          It was electric, like sticking a spark plug in his heart.

          "You all right, mate?" Nate's voice, but it sounded so distant.

          Electric.

          "You okay?"

          Even better than okay, Eduard thought.

          Like Christmas, when they all lit up the lights. When they put the star at the top of the tree.

          No, that wasn't it. That wasn't exactly it. Lights were bright, but that was it. This was better than light. It was ...

          Explosive.

          Like fireworks.

          A hand closed around his shoulder, but he didn't feel it anymore. A split second later, he was bursting into flame.

Chapter Ten

          "Just what," said Ellie warily, "are you playing at?"
          Apollo drew nearer, fixing his intense gaze upon her. Ellie drew back uneasily as he leaned in closer and closer, until she could smell his aftershave. He smelled good, although Ellie would rather die before she'd admit this to him. She couldn't quite put her finger on what he smelled like, though. It was like smelling an exotic spice, something foreign and novel. And it was good. More than good, actually. Ellie closed her eyes and breathed in.
          "Who said this is a game, Ellie?" Apollo rasped as he reached a hand to caress her cheek. Ellie flinched at his touch. His hand was cold, like ice. Her eyes snapped open and she was pulled back into reality - just what the heck was she doing? Damn it, what was he doing to her?
          Pheromones, she thought disgustedly. Damn animal.
          "Stop," she muttered. "Now."
          Apollo just stared at her. A bemused smile crossed his features as he spoke.
          "Really, milady?" he mused. "And there I thought you were having fun."
          "Creep," Ellie hissed. "I want my clothes back."
          "Well, that's too bad because I burned them."
          "What? Why?"
          "Let's just say mortal filth is bad for the Outer Arc," said Apollo. "And we'll leave it at that. But for now ..."
          Ellie felt the air around them lose its moisture. For some reason, the atmosphere began to dry, becoming not unlike that of a desert at night. The air became so dry, she found herself coughing as her lungs tried to adapt to the sudden dry spell. In the same instant, she could see tiny droplets of water beginning to form in the air, getting bigger and bigger little by little. And the droplets seemed to solidify, forming what looked like tiny crystals suspended in the air. Was Apollo doing this? She had to wonder as she reached out to touch one of the crystal-like things. It reflected to dim lights well, sparkling like fragments of glass.
          Just as she was about to ask Apollo what kind of magic trick he was playing on her, some of the crystals had levitated to her, coming to rest around her neck and forming a chain around it. Startled, Ellie poked at it tentatively, surprised to see that the crystals had formed quite a lovely necklace.
          "A gift," Apollo clarified as she looked up at him and gave him a questioning look. "From the Crown Prince of the Outer Arc."
          "I don't want it," Ellie argued. "Take it back."
          Apollo was about to reply when his cellphone rang. Irked, he turned away from her and answered the phone. He talked for a few minutes, discussing something Ellie wasn't even sure of. And by the time he had finished, Ellie was quite confused about the situation at hand.
          "We'll be right there," Apollo murmured to the person on the other end of the line, just before hanging up. Replacing the device in his pocket, he gazed at Ellie and said, "Time to go. The Outer Arc awaits."
          Moments later, Ellie found herself seated at the front of Apollo's car, somewhat relieved that they weren't in a closed room alone. She had that to be grateful for, at least.


          "Ellie."
          Ellie who? a voice in his head asked.
          "Good question," Eduard mumbled to himself. His head was pounding and his entire body felt strange. He felt as if he was on fire, as if he was being swallowed up by its heat. God, was this how guilt felt like? He shouldn't have left his family in the burning house. He should have at least tried to save them, even if there was no way out.
          "Damn," he cursed.
          As he paced down the desolate road, something slammed into the side of his head, hard. It made his headache worsen; his entire body was ringing with pain. Cursing and swearing, he tried to get his bearings again. He caught sight of a basketball at his feet, and as he turned to one side, he could see a group of figures arguing at the little basketball court not so far from the playground.
          "Hey, throw us the ball," one of the figures called out. "C'mon, dude, we want to play."
          "What the fuck," Eduard muttered as he strode over to the group of boys and lobbed the ball in the direction of them.
          "Thanks, mate," said another boy, one with jet black hair and tan skin. "Say, would you like to join our game?"
          Game? Eduard wondered. But well, what the heck; his head was killing him. He needed to focus on something other than this weird day. He hesitated for a moment, wondering what harm could possibly come from playing a little basketball?
          "Sure," he muttered as he forced a smile. Damn that headache. "Why not?"
          As he joined the group of boys, he pushed back whatever supposedly important thought he had been having just moments ago into the farthest reaches of his mind. He didn't need all of that right now, thank you. He simply needed to take his mind off this unsettling day.
          You fucked up murderer, he thought. Your family is dead and yet here you are having fun and games. That's just so cruel, Mr Hunter. That's by far way disturbing. So congratulations, you monster.

Chapter Nine

          "Your room is over there," Apollo said as he gestured at a room down the hallway, "and mine is ... oh, never mind that. The bathroom is near the pantry, which is over there ..."
          Ellie pretended to listen, disinterested in the little details of Apollo's tiny apartment. There was hardly anything interesting here; it all looked so mundane. And Apollo was anything but mundane and ordinary. This place hardly showed what he was like. Of course, Ellie didn't know much about the monarchy that ruled all of Outer Arc before the Great Revolution occurred (and even the things she knew about the Great Revolution was because Apollo had told her; after all, the events that took place during the Great Revolution happened around the time she was born). But she did know that before the Great Revolution, Apollo was the heir to the throne.
          "Please," he implored, "make yourself at home."
          "Why?" Ellie asked. "I thought we're going to the Outer Arc."
          "Not just yet, milady," Apollo replied. "I have a few phone calls to make, and you ought to get out of those filthy clothes."
          Ellie stared at Apollo incredulously. "Just what do you think I am?"
          "There are fresh clothes in your room," Apollo muttered flatly. "Take a shower, if you'd like. I'll even wash those disgusting clothes for you." Apollo finished his sentence with another of his creepy I-can-see-right-through-you stares. Ellie couldn't help but shiver at the stare; why was it that the stare always made her feel naked?
          "What's wrong," Ellie fumed, frustrated, "with my clothes?" She gestured down at her pea green turtleneck and jeans, although she was almost certain that Apollo could see right through them. She might as well have been naked.
          "Nothing, milady," he replied with a smile, "except that there's nothing interesting about them."
          "Stop calling me that!" Ellie snapped, groaning in frustration.
          "Would you rather have me call you Bianca, then?"
          At this point, Ellie had no comeback for that. She simply stormed off, exhaling through her nose. She slipped into her room - at least, the room that she thought Apollo said was hers - and slammed the door shut. She heaved a sigh as she looked around. More boring apartment furniture. Standard single bed, wardrobe and desk. Nothing much, except there happened to be clothes and a towel on the bed.
          Ellie settled on the bed and examined the clothes Apollo must have left for her. There was a dress, along with - gasp - underwear.  The first thing she picked up was a beaded dress. It was a bluish purple color - or was it purplish blue? - and it looked expensive. But more importantly, it looked as though it wouldn't cover much.
          Great god! she thought. Just what does he think I am? His personal slut?
          Or maybe he just didn't know her size.


          Eduard broke into a run all of a sudden. He had no idea why, but he suddenly felt the need to run, to get away from everything, to just escape ... God, what the hell was wrong with him? He'd become a merciless, cold blooded murderer! Not that he had actually stabbed his mother and Taran to death with a knife or anything, but he might as well have! After all, he had been wishing for their demise, right after leaving them to die in their burning house. Didn't that count as murder already? He might as well have been Jack the Ripper!
          You little ass, you murderer, murderer!
          Those thoughts kept running in his head over and over again in a never ending tape loop, driving him to the point of raw insanity. He felt like screaming, like jumping off a cliff and breaking all of his bones into pieces. What the heck had he done? What exactly went on back there? He was a killer, a murderer!
          Stop it, stop it! You're overreacting! Stop it, you're just in shock! the rational part of his brain snapped, but the rest of him wasn't listening. Well, how could he? He simply kept driving himself forward, pushing his already aching legs to their limit. Maybe soon he would be starved of oxygen and it'll be over. Maybe, just maybe ... Fuck wishful thinking.
           Finally, his legs gave out from beneath him and he fell flat on his face on the pavement. Pain exploded in his head, and for a split second, he blacked out. And when he came to his senses, he realized that he had been forgetting something important. Something very important. What was it? What exactly had he forgotten?
          He pulled himself up off the ground and dusted himself, wondering and pondering what he had forgotten. It had something to do with school and -
          Wait.
          "Ellie."


          Ellie wrapped the towel around her body and stepped out of the bathroom. She took a quick glance around before running to her room. That was the problem when the bathroom was so far away. And she had no intention of giving Apollo any free peep shows. And she definitely wasn't going to put on that dress.
          But to her horror, she realized that her clothes were gone! That was weird - she was certain she'd left them on the bed. Unless that sneak Apollo had taken them. Which, after much consideration, was very likely. After all, Apollo - where was he, anyway? - was the only person in the apartment, other than herself, of course.
          "There has to be something else to wear!" Ellie cried as she tried to open the wardrobe. No luck there - it was locked, save for the bottom drawer, which held a shoebox. Ellie had opened it and much to her dismay, there was a pair of what looked like four inch pumps. It would kill her to walk in those. Oh, she really wanted to kill Apollo now!
          "That asshole!" she fumed as she threw her hands up in frustration. And since there was nothing else to wear, she had no choice but to put on the dress. It was, surprisingly, a perfect fit. And apparently the dress was cut to show off her figure. Not that Ellie had much to show off, anyway. She had always been a little too skinny and a little too short, despite the fact that she ate like a shark.
          "Beautiful," someone spoke, making Ellie jump. She knew the voice, of course; it was Apollo. How the heck did he get in? Or did she forget to lock the door?
          "Haven't you heard of knocking?" she snapped, refusing to turn around and look at him.
          "It wouldn't have made a difference," Apollo replied flatly.
          "Oh, yes, it would," Ellie replied. "I wouldn't have let you in."
          "You didn't lock the door."
          "Oh."
          "Come on, Bianca," Apollo said. "You should be happy I went through all the trouble to get you all this stuff."
          "I'm not your personal whore."
          At this, Apollo laughed. And it wasn't a cold, humorless chuckle either. This was genuine, sunny peals of laughter. It didn't last long, however, and soon enough Apollo had regained his composure.
          "If you were that, Bianca," he said slowly, "you wouldn't be wearing anything right now."
           "I thought it's strictly business only," Ellie muttered, trying to keep her voice from quivering.
          "It is. And we'll be leaving for the Outer Arc soon."

Chapter Eight

          Taran gritted his teeth as he tried to find a way out of the burning room. One hand was curled around his mother's wrist, holding it tightly as if she might disappear at any second. Obviously he was afraid for his mother's life. He waved his other hand in front of him frantically, batting at the smoke. Coughing and sputtering as he dove for the door before the flames could reach it. For something that started out as a tiny flame on the bed, it had quickly raged into a blazing inferno.

          Shit, he swore inwardly as he broke into a run. He was racing down the hallway now, with Adele in tow. He wanted to risk a glance back, to see if the flames were catching up, but he was afraid of what he might see. Fighting the urge to stop and look back, Taran forced himself to run faster, bolting down the stairs as fast as he could manage. The smoke was still inflaming his lungs, the smell of it choking him. He could still feel the heat from the flames, as if he was all but five inches away from it.

          Suddenly, he heard his mother scream. He felt her stiffen in his grip and knowing that something bad must have happened, he slowly turned around. Spiders' legs of fright crawled down his back, sending chills along his spine as he realized that yes, the flames were dangerously close behind. In fact, the fire had singed part of Adele's shoulder.

          "How'd they get here so fast?" he croaked.

          He willed himself to run faster, leaping down the staircase two steps at a time, but then he stopped short when he realized that there were flames blocking the path in front of him.

          "What the-"

          Just what the hell were you thinking? Eduard chided himself, finally coming to senses about what he'd just done ... and what evil thoughts had been in his head at the time. You idiot!

          For a while, he'd buried his face in his hands and wept. But then he realized that it didn't help much, he went for a long walk in the neighborhood. After all, he had never really had a chance to go out much and that pretty much made him a stranger there, despite the fact that he had been living there for all his life. But then again, what had his entire life been all this while? His family wasn't really his family, and it was all a great fat lie.

           Liar, liar, pants on fire. The pills go down and gets you fucking higher, Eduard mused inwardly.

          He stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked down the street miserably, wondering what exactly was he to do next, now that his so-called mother and brother were dead. Or at least, he supposed that they were dead, considering how quickly the fire had spread.

          His mother and Taran. Dead.

          He mulled this over, turning the thought round and round like a carousel in his mind, testing the idea. They were dead. Dead, dead, dead. Dead-dead-dead-dead ... Dead ... He wondered why that somehow, he didn't seem so bothered by the thought. And it bothered him so, how he wasn't the least bit shaken by the idea of his mother (she may not necessarily be his biological mother, but she was his mother after all, right?) and his brother being killed in a fire. Just what the heck was wrong with him? What was he, a monster? No human in his or her right mind would think such a thing!

          "Doesn't matter," he murmured quietly, "doesn't matter."

Chapter Seven

          "Tell me," Apollo mused, "what do you remember about the Outer Arc?"

          Ellie turned away to avoid looking him in the eye. His strange gaze was, somehow unsettling. It reminded her of someone else, someone she didn't want to remember. Not that she remembered much, anyway. There were bits and pieces, things that didn't make any sense at all. Only one thing remained clear: her hatred for the Organization. Why she hated it, she couldn't remember. Aside from the obvious reason, of course. She'd always blamed her parents' deaths on the Organization. But there was something else, something that had to do with her mother and one of the Organization's men.

          "Not much," she murmured. "Just tiny bits and pieces."

          "But you remember the Organization," Apollo confirmed, "and me."

          "How could I forget you?" Ellie hissed as she knifed him an angry look. "You betrayed me."

          Apollo raised a brow. "Touché."
          "Care to explain why?"
          He turned away. "You don't need to know that."
          Ellie grabbed a hold of his tie and yanked it, making him face her again and hissed, "Yes, I do. I can't trust you if you do this to me."
          "Do what to you?" Apollo's voice was a low growl, laced with a hint of a threat. A sneer curled his lips as he spoke. It unsettled Ellie a little, but at this point, she was far too irked to be bothered with his strangely eerie heterochromatic eyes. "I saved you from being a pawn in the Organization's plans; you ought to be thanking me, my dear Lady Cloade."
          "And made me a pawn in your plans. You sold my parents out to the Organization to save your own ass. And then you manipulated me to suit your own selfish need."
          Apollo's eyes were deadly. Anger flashed in their jagged irises, telling Ellie that she'd crossed a line - and that it was best that she back away before anything bad happened. Ellie could tell that he was having trouble keeping his composure. The sneer on his face appeared to become more pronounced for a split second before he erased all trace of expression from his face.
          "You don't know anything, milady," Apollo rasped. "You wouldn't know about the monarchy that ruled the Outer Arc before Lionel Ashcroft changed things."
          "That has nothing to do with anything," Ellie replied.
          Apollo studied her face for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to strangle her to death. Ellie flinched under his scrutiny, realizing that this was a different side of Apollo. There was something strangely off about him. Apollo had always been a rather strange and unsettling character, but in that moment he seemed a little more than just unsettling. Frightening, even.
          Something flashed in Apollo's eyes for a moment, a glint of an unfamiliar emotion that wasn't quite malicious. But before Ellie could tell what it was, it was gone from his eyes, replaced by Apollo's usual cool but creepy gaze.
          "You're right," he muttered quickly, seeming to have regained his calmness. He rose to his feet and straightened his tie. "And I reckon it's about time we get going."


          "The fuck?!" Taran hissed as he tried to put out the flames. "What did you do now, you freak?"
           "I swear I didn't do anything!" Eduard protested. "Everything suddenly caught fire!"
          "Stop it, you two! Let's get out of here!" Adele ordered. "We can't do anything about the blaze now."
          All around them, the flames raged, eating away at every inch of the room. Bright yellow fire flickered and danced around the room, running up and down the walls, searing scars in the floor and the furniture. Tendrils of it threatened to engulf the three of them, the heat radiating from them making Eduard sweat as smoke filled the air.
          "Well, at least save the damn house!" Taran snapped. "We won't have anywhere to go if this dump gets burned to the ground! Shit, hasn't anyone called 911?"
           "Don't be stupid, Taran! What's a house if we're all dead?"
          Eduard didn't say anything to either of them; he simply bolted out through the door and ran.


          You ass, he chided himself. Finally safely away from the raging inferno, Eduard had realized that he'd left his mother and brother behind ... and he wasn't even sure if they had gotten away safely or not. For all he knew, they might have been trapped by the blaze and couldn't make it out in time ...
          Not your problem, a voice spoke in his head. A different and more rebellious voice Eduard couldn't recognize as his own. As if they're your real family.
          A strange feeling stirred within him. It was like the fire that had raged just moments ago. A blazing inferno full of life and energy. He couldn't quite describe it; there was no word for this emotion. There was nothing he could compare it to, except for the inexplicable fire that had started in his room. It was almost magical. And he liked it. He loved he way it felt. He didn't know why, but it felt good.
          "Yeah," he whispered to himself as a smile curled his lips. "They could go to hell, for all I care."