Chapter Two:

 

/Do you believe in ghosts, Heero?/

 

/No, I don’t. Ghosts are childish follies. They are only made up to scare the living away from destroying the sanctity of the graveyards./

 

/Perhaps so, my boy. But surely you believe in the afterlife…/

 

/Life after death? Impossible./

 

/What happens to the souls and spirits within the body after its buried six feet under?/

 

/Based on your religious beliefs…your soul goes to a place where…well…souls are kept./

 

/For someone so practical, you really do not know much, do you, Heero?/

 

/For an old man, who’s supposed to be teaching me alchemy, you sure are into the supernatural./

 

/I need you to believe in it, Heero./

 

/For me to believe in ghosts and spirits? That’s ridiculous…/

 

/It’s the only way…for this to work…for we are both going to take a journey…/

 

/A journey? We don’t have time for a journey! This research paper is due in less than a month!/

 

/We have to find the elixir, Heero. And there is only one place that can give us the answer…/

 

/Old man…/

 

/Do it for me, Heero. I know you owe me nothing, but do it for this old man’s sake. It will be my greatest triumph in the end./

 

But he had known it was a rather selfish request – one that might end with the young man losing his life if things did not go as planned.

 

Hands that had once been steady and sure, now trembled as they reached for the large and dusty leather-bound book from the shelf. He felt the, supposedly strong, ladder shake a little and he had to hold on tightly to its handles so as not to fall from his rather dangerous perch. Mumbling softly to himself, he stepped down a bit gingerly and tucked the book rather possessively under his left arm. He eyed the empty corridor lined with bookcases as high as the ceiling. Tall stained glass windows with images of fighting knights and damsels in distress brought in the only source of light in this silent section of the library. He could vaguely hear the sounds of children playing outside and every now and then the hushed whispers of the buildings’ occupants would filter into his ears.

 

However, his eyes were sharp enough to know that the books in this particular section were not just the ordinary kinds. This was a restricted section – an area reserved for those who wanted to delve into the darkness that had been in this small town of Cornwall. The books in here had once belonged to the famed Dunhill family. Over ten thousand books collected over time had been the only things confiscated and treasured from the mansion on the hill. Histories of ancestors, diaries of family members, great literary works of that day and age filled the shelves. But the doctor wasn’t interested in any of that. He had come all the way from the mainland to this small backwater to hunt for the one thing that would make his lifelong research on life after death possible.

 

The Elixir of Life.

 

Only one member of the Dunhill family had been rumored to have been able to achieve such a thing. And after years of careful and painstaking research, it had finally led the doctor to this very section. In his hand, he had the Book - the comprehensive diary that had once belonged to the young doctor Joshua Dunhill. At the tender age of twenty-two, it was believed that the eccentric young man had discovered the essential element for immortality. He had done his experiments in the small attic within the mansion – sometimes spending weeks in solitude working on his thesis. According to legend, it was only his personal servant that was allowed in there to be with him and even those were on rare occasions.

 

Although the war had come, Joshua had refused to leave the safety of his haven. The other men folk in the town had protested and had demanded that widow Dunhill release her remaining son to support the troops. The widow had begged and pleaded for them to let her son be left alone but they had given them an ultimatum. Either the boy joined the war the next day or the mansion was to be burned to the ground.

 

Joshua’s servant had heard the news and had been the one to warn his master over the impending threat to their lives. As rumor had it, Joshua, now desperate to continue his research with no interruptions had enlisted the help of his mother, who sent for a carriage in the dead of night to take her son and his servant away. All his research papers and evidence of his experiments had been packed into trunks ready for the long trip to France. Perhaps he would be safer there.

 

Unfortunately, a spy – no one knows who till this day – had witnessed the planned escape and had gone into town to let the Mayor know. A small group of men were selected and with their picks, forks and torches, they hid along the narrow pathway that led to the outskirts of town, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the carriage that was to pass there at the cock’s crow.

 

But Joshua was no fool and he was quite aware that he might not survive the trip let alone get to his destination. And so bequeathing all of his precious documents to his trusted servant, he left with the carriage despite the fevered pleas from the young man he had called friend over the years, to stay behind.

 

When Joshua’s body was found the next morning, he was barely recognizable. They had beaten the boy to death and then burnt the carriage for added measure. According to legend, it was the young servant that had carried his dead master’s body from the burnt rubble and back to the estate. He had single-handedly buried the young doctor with his bare hands and had remained beside the grave, weeping in sorrow over the loss of the one person who had really cared for him.

 

The doctor assumed it was a rather sad story all around. Many believed that the servant had starved himself to death and had been found dead beside his master’s grave. Others claimed that he had been shot in the head and laid to rest beside Joshua’s grave as a sordid tribute to the relationship those two had shared. Either way it had gone, everyone had agreed that it was indeed a tragic tale.

“What a bizarre family history,” the doctor mumbled as he shuffled his way out of the gloom of the old books and towards the light that heralded his arrival into modern civilization.

 

He smiled softly at the group of children listening to a man dressed in a clown costume. It was Story Time and many of them had been called in to listen to the volunteer reader for the week. It really was an admirable thing when you thought about it. There was nothing better than teaching children how to expand their minds and reach for the horizon and suddenly for some reason, he began to cackle to himself, which caused a few curious gazes to come his way.

 

“Ah, Dr. J,” the young librarian behind the counter greeted with a wide grin. “Did you find everything you wanted?”

 

“Yes, yes, thank you very much,” he replied with a sheepish look as he placed the book as gently as possible on the counter. “I’ll just be taking this then.”

 

“Ah, you’re a fan of the Dunhill history, aren’t you?” she began conversationally as she slid sheer gloves over her hands. “Not many people really care about them anymore, which is kinda sad.”

 

“Oh?” he raised a brow and eyed the woman with curiosity, noticing that she seemed to know what she was doing when taking care of old books. She was beginning to open up the leather bound cover rather gingerly.

 

“I used to study history in college,” she explained with a giggle. She reached for a microscope and began to examine the binding for any loose edges. “It seemed as if I was the only one who wanted to know more about those guys.”

 

“And?” he asked with barely concealed excitement. “What did you find out?” He idly noticed that she was rather pretty and that she had a rather childish looking hairstyle with two ponytails braided and tied around the rest of her light brown hair like pieces of rope. He glanced at her nametag – Relena Peacecraft. Interesting.

 

“Oh, I found out lots of stuff,” she said with a nod as she turned the book over and began her investigation from behind. “I was more curious about the servants though. Did you know that each Dunhill son had a personal servant?”

 

“Hmm…I knew that Joshua Dunhill had one…”

 

“Yeah,” she interrupted as she lifted her head to peer at him with barely concealed excitement. “He’s the more popular one. But there were four others. All of them were pretty young too, you know.” She began to giggle.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that these stupid rumors about the servants being…well… you know…” She blushed and waved a hand in something that was supposed to be an explanation. Seeing that the doctor wasn’t getting her, she coughed and lowered her voice. “You know…gay.”

 

Her blush deepened and the doctor laughed. “Ah, the old homosexual arguments.”

 

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t blame them if they were…you know…gay,” she said around a small laugh. “From the only picture we have of them, they were pretty hot looking.”

 

“You have pictures of them?” the doctor asked in surprise.

 

“More like sketches,” she explained quickly. “It was believed to have been done by Marcus, the youngest son. He was pretty talented – no, they were all talented men in that family.”

 

“And where can I find these sketches?”

 

“Hmm…should be in one of the archives here,” Relena said with a purse of her lips. “Tell you what. I’ll look for them tonight and give you a call tomorrow to let you know if I found it or not. Will that do?”

 

The doctor smiled in pleasure. “That would be most welcome, Miss. Peacecraft. Perhaps I could invite you over for tea and you could meet my young apprentice. He is a lovely young man.”

 

The girl blushed darkly and shook her head as she placed the book within a protective sheet. “It’s okay.” She held up her hand to display the simple gold band on her finger. “I’m already taken. But I’d love to have tea with you sometime.” She smiled again now placing the covered book within his outstretched hands. “It’s due on the seventeenth of next month, doctor.”

 

“Thank you, Relena,” he replied with a warm smile as he tucked the book under his arm again. “Oh and one more thing before I go.”

 

“What’s that, Doctor J?”

 

“Do you believe in ghosts, Relena?” he asked with a curious glint in his eye.

 

The girl laughed softly and gave him a slow wink. “They are everywhere, Doctor J. Whether we want to admit it or not. You have a wonderful day, sir.”

 

He cackled again and gave her a small wave of goodbye before heading out of the library and into the coolness of evening. And as he walked down the flight of stairs that would lead him out to the main street again, he eyed the scene of an accident that had happened earlier in the evening a few feet away from the building. It had been a pretty nasty one. The truck driver hadn’t seen the girl coming. He had sworn she wasn’t there when he had made the corner but then bam! Out of nowhere she had appeared and he had been unable to stop the brakes.

 

Poor Relena Peacecraft had had so much to look forward to, the doctor thought with a warm smile as he glanced towards the library again. At least she had found a place where she could be eternally happy…

 

 

~*~

 

 

Heero stirred or rather he twitched a little. There was the faint but undeniable sound of children laughing and talking amongst themselves and it was rather irritating considering the fact that he was trying his best to get some sleep.

The giggles grew louder and suddenly the image of the young blond boy he had seen in the graveyards filled his mind. And then there was the mysterious smell of wild roses…

 

“He’s awake…”

 

“No, he’s not…”

 

“Can’t you see the way his eyes twitch with restlessness?”

 

“Perhaps it’s because you haven’t left his side all this time, Quatre…”

 

“What are you trying to say, Trowa?”

 

“Nothing…”

 

“Is the water ready, Wufei?”

 

From a distance, a muffled ‘Yes, yes, it’s coming. Be patient’ could be heard.

 

“Where’s Duo?”

 

“Where he always is.”

 

“He broods too much.”

 

“You’ve been saying that for over a hundred years now.”

 

“Yes, but…”

 

“You can’t talk him out of it, so don’t bother.”

 

“Hmm…”

 

Heero had heard enough. He made of show of opening up his lashes as slowly as possible. And fully expecting to see a bunch of children hovering around him, he was stunned into silence as he noticed the handsome young men that were peering down at him in obvious curiosity.

 

The blond one he recognized immediately for the striking resemblance to the little boy in the woods was quite uncanny. Was he an older brother? That would explain it. And to the blond’s left stood a slightly taller one with dark brown hair that seemed to be combed over his right eye. It looked sharp and intelligent – the kind of person who could see right through you at first sight. They were both dressed in nineteenth century clothing – a bit similar to what ‘ghost kid’ had been wearing earlier, except that theirs were dark green in color.

 

The blond stepped closer and smiled before giving a small bow of greeting. “Did you have a good rest, master?”

 

Mas…master?

 

“Wufei is preparing the baths for you and he would be more than happy to do the honors.”

Wait…wait a minute…

 

“This is Trowa Barton,” he continued, nodding towards the silent brown-haired boy. “He came here a month after I did. So you could say he’s my assistant.”

 

Trowa gave a small nod of acknowledgment and bowed as well. “Pleased to meet you, master.”

 

No…wait…

 

“My name is Quatre Rebarba Winner. I am the head servant of this household and any and all questions will be directed to me should you have any problems.”

 

Problems? Oh he had lots of problems!

 

And then it finally dawned on him he was no longer outside by the tombstones. In fact, he had been so engrossed in his visitors that he had failed to notice that the softness beneath him was an actual bed! The pungent smell of wild roses seemed to be coming from the very large silver vase filled with the flowers that had been placed on the bedside table. He was in a bedroom – and not just any bedroom, but a place that could rival any member of royalty. Heero absently felt the quality of the sheets with a hand, noticing that it was made of the finest silk possible. His gaze drifted towards the ornate but extremely large portraits of various members of the previous owners of the house or probably ancestors and he could slowly feel his panic begin to take precedence.

 

“Where…where…aaaaaaah!” He scrambled backwards as Quatre had all but thrust his face into Heero’s. It had been so close that their noses had brushed each other’s and to Heero’s chagrin, he found that his cheeks were beginning to feel hot from the simple contact. It wasn’t as if anyone could blame him. These were, after all, the most amazing guys he had ever met in his life…

 

Ghosts! They are ghosts!

 

“Is everything all right, master?” the head servant asked with concern. “You look feverish. Where in the world is Wufei?!” he growled softly as he turned to gaze at his partner for answers.

 

And as if on cue, the third boy knocked softly on the door before allowing himself in. Heero could feel his entire body burn with a heat he could not explain as he found himself staring helplessly into eyes of darkest night. The new servant gave a small bow and with an expressionless look on his countenance, announced softly.

 

“The bath is ready.”

 

Heero was still staring in fascination at the one called Wufei. It was quite a surprise to see someone of Asian descent like himself in a place like this. No! What was he thinking?! Wufei was already dead! But what was the boy’s story? How had an Asian man gotten into a home like this as a servant in the first place?

 

“There is one more, master,” Quatre explained quickly as he began to pull the sheets off Heero, hardly paying attention to the flood of color that had begun to spread up the boy’s neck. It really was a bit disconcerting – to think that he was about to be stripped before others again. Heero had never been naked before anyone before in his life – ever!

 

“…brooding too much.”

 

He blinked in confusion. He had missed the first part of Quatre’s story but apparently one of them – the elusive one – liked to brood a lot. He eyed Wufei again, who was now beginning to…strip?!

 

What the hell?

 

No, it wasn’t just Wufei, both Quatre and Trowa were doing the very same thing and for one wild moment, Heero fully expected them to have bodies that would float away or become hollow as he continued to watch in reluctant fascination. But stare as hard as he might, their bodies seemed as solid as any real human’s. The sharp contrast amongst their skin tones was, for some reason, a cause for that piece of flesh between his legs to harden in response. Whereas, Quatre looked pale and rather fair, Trowa was a bit darker – as if he had spent more time in the sun. Wufei’s was the smooth olive hue reminiscent of his people and Heero groaned weakly as he struggled to tear his gaze away from the sinful sight of the three naked boys before him.

 

Ghosts…not real….this is all a figment of my imagination – a hallucination brought about by lack of solid food and drink for a few hours.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut only to open them up again with a soft yelp of surprise as he felt the hand on his thigh. A real hand – a bit cold and clammy – but a hand nonetheless.

 

“Don’t touch me!” he lashed out a bit hastily as he shrank away from Quatre. “You’re…you’re not real.” His eyes seemed to have taken up much of his face as he darted furtive glances from one boy to the other. “You’re…you’re all not real! Get away from me! I don’t believe in you!”

 

Quatre made a small ‘tsk’ sound and Trowa could only shrug in response. Wufei didn’t seem to care either way but it was the sudden quiet response from the newcomer that had all four boys turning in surprise at the one who had now walked into the room.

 

“Not real, huh?” came the lazy drawl.

 

Heero stared as the others seemed to give a collective sigh of relief.

 

This boy…

 

He was naked as well, his skin tone almost as dark as Trowa’s. But unlike Wufei’s shoulder length black hair, or Quatre’s blond one, or Trowa’s brown locks, this boy had chestnut-colored hair that kissed his rear with each step he took. It must have been braided for it still had its telltale waves. Heero stared and could not look away. He had never seen anyone so…mind numbingly beautiful. Those eyes – as blue if not darker than his – seemed to hold so many secrets that he wanted to learn. Those full lips were quirked into a smirk of amusement as he continued to approach the trembling boy on the bed.

 

Quatre snickered and wrapped his arms around Trowa’s waist watching in fascination at the cold glance that Wufei had thrown at the new boy’s antics. It had been a while since the blond had seen his most studious servant display any emotion this intense.

 

Jealousy could be a beautiful thing.

 

“Go easy on him, Duo,” he mumbled softly as he began to trail his lips along Trowa’s neck. He wanted the bath to begin already. “We don’t want to chase him away too.”

 

The long-haired boy gave a sweet smile to his fellow servants before focusing his attention on the blushing boy before him. And balancing a knee upon the bed gently, he leaned closer to Heero’s flushed visage, dark blue eyes now dark with mischief and malicious intent.

 

“Don’t worry,” he whispered softly against Heero’s lips. “I promise to take really good care of him and to show him just how real this is…”

 

And before either boy could protest, Duo placed his lips against Heero’s in a kiss that would seal their fates for all eternity.

 

 

 

TBC…