eloie: the female heroine from amnesia, a girl with light brown hair and green eyes. (lu royal)
[personal profile] eloie
» AGE: 25
» SKIN: Human // Infernal

The official story is that Ciel was hired to protect the Chilliarch's only daughter and heir, Luciela R. Chilliarch. Before being allowed to see the Chilliarch heir, Ciel lived a life of seriousness and hard work. His mentor was an elderly man who insisted that Ciel call him master.

He lived in sparse conditons with his strict, elderly mentor who insisted that Ciel call him Master. He was no tallowed to write letters, or play, or read anything but the Noblesse family scrolls. Day after day, he followed his Master up and down the rough trails of the hills and forests of Denmark, and in the evenings he and his Master would train in the midst od the dark, rough trees.

Day after day he watched the smooth motions of his mentor's body and struggled to imitate the striking speed, the bone-breaking strength. Barefoot over coarse grass, he trained each morning until he was cramped and cold and aching for a rest, and then far longer until he was ready to collapse, until he was barely able to hobble after his Master on the long, winding trail home.

At first, Ciel would complain at the harsh training. His Master would only reply, "Lady Luciela is worth all this pain." Ciel was taken aback and said quietly, "But the Queen hasn't even given birth yet! Why am I being trained this early?"

"Your father thought that the Lady should only have the best."

Ciel continued to train in disbelief, irritated at his father. "I'll believe it when I see it."

The afternoons were humbling. Ciel learned how to haul water, scrape fish, and chop wood with a hatchet until his hands were blistered, and then calloused. As the setting sun blaced red on the horizon, Ciel also learned all about acupuncture and--when he wasn't too tired--replied to the occasional letter sent by his father. Ciel complained about training like a dog for a girl who was still in the womb of her mother. It seemed too much, even for him.

His father replied that he was seven when he started his training to become the Crown Protector for the king and queen. It was tradition for each bodyguard to be seven or eight years older than their charge.

Ciel would have pressed the issue further, but he was reprimanded--often harshly--for wasting lamp oil in the evenings, so there was minimal reading after dark. Carefully, his skills were honed. He learned to be deadly and accurate with every pierce of his sword, able to break rocks or whisk a nut from between a squirrel's paws without harm. He learned, with his fingertips running over and over his own body--as well as the wood-and-cloth dummy, where each acupuncture point was to be pricked. Ciel learned how to pierce and prod someone so that he died in agony, how to render someone immobile like a statue, and how to heal someone from the brink of death.

He learned to heal and to hurt, how to kill and to mend. He learned to press the side of his head onto the cold ground, closed his eyes and lay very still, to hear the movement of every wild creature within yards.

Ciel grew harder and stronger, and a great deal more solemn than when he first started. He grew lonely, and learned to ignore it, until the day that the loneliness became a dull ache. His Master knew the signs of loneliness -- one of the tools utilized by the Noblesse family. Loneliness bred loyalty when the conditions were right, and the queen was in labor.

"Persevere, Ciel," the Master found himself murmuring as he looked at a framed photograph of a beautiful young woman with pale-white hair, eight months pregnant. "don't disappoint her."

He stayed in a little house with his Master, dreaming of the large, sprawling stone pathways of Chilliarch Castle. He dreamt of warm fireplaces and food that was rich in butter and heavy cream, and every once in awhile, found himself wondering what Lady Luciela would look like -- or if she was born already. Time tended to creep and crawl when there were no mirrors, and the only way he knew the passing seasons was when he went to visit his parents.

He took short trips home once every season, but his own house and the village were very strange to him now. He felt detached to the village where he was born, and to the affections of his mother and sister. His father, however, was very proud.

"But darling," he heard his mother protest over dinner one evening, "he is still just a boy."

"He is growing older," he replied, drinking a cup of honey mead. "And the queen just gave birth to the Lady. She, in turn will be trained in the arts of being a queen. If Ciel keeps doing well, the Queen herself will send for him to visit her daughter."

Ciel decided that he would be a very, very good pupil, so that he would be able to visit the Chilliarch Castle, and hopefully take a glimpse of his employers.

Eight years passed by like this, until Ciel learned not only to fight and to mend, but to cook and how to fire a gun. His favorite weapons, aside from swords were rifles and pistols.

The first time he met Luciela was at her eighth birthday party. The Queen had, indeed, sent for him -- to get himself and her daughter acquainted.

Ciel started the journey a calm, sixteen year-old teenager. What he saw, however, was a cute little girl who asked, "How do you do?"

Taller now, but still in between being a gangly teenager and growing out of his childish form, Ciel knelt down and grasped her hand and said in reply, he
"It's a pleasure to meet you, milady."

Dance with the Demon

Pop'n sense'n may I have this song
Before the world's end, shall we sing the un deux?
My heart, it's yours. Can you hear the beat?
No, no. Not yet. I won't forget how.
Oh my, look and see, what a lovely view!
There, there, the world's a monochrome highway.
Growl and creep, not a single piece will move.

Anyhow, it's dead. Nothing's going to change...