Chapter 7: The Visit 1

It was late in the morning, and the sky was not clear with whips of white clouds floating around when a gust of wind that came from the East blew, which made the one inch grass sway with it. On a small hillside was a boy lying on his back with his limbs spread out. The boy, who had been staring up the sky, had a pair of khaki shorts on that had his gray polo shirt tucked in it.

He was Allen.

It had been a few days since Allen had woken up to that dream where his memories of a certain man were supposed to be erased by the same person. His first thought was that particular dream was the fruit of his uneasiness toward the fact that he was forgetting something, and so he brushed it off as though the dream never occurred to him. It went fine, though lately he had been subconsciously thinking of that dream of his every now and then. It baffled him to the point he gave up and ended up on the hillside; the only place where he could relax his mind and body. But then again, his relaxation was cut short when he remembered that it was Saturday, and it was only last night that Belle had told him of the arrival of the Campbells.

Allen groaned. How could I forget? he thought to himself as he run his left hand over his face and up his head, ruffling his hair. The movement was brief and it left his hair a mess when his left hand dropped back to the grassy ground with a sigh. The boy wanted to stay more outside, mentally summoning another gust of wind to carry his thoughts away with even though he was fully aware that what he was doing was impossible. Luckily for him though, his prayer was answered as another gust of wind made its presence known to the only being that was greatful of its company.

Allen closed his eyes to the world with a faint smile, gracing his young face, as he savoured the feeling of the cool wind against his exposed skin. He did not know why he loved feeling the air moving around him, but he guessed it was because he felt free as though there was nothing that could hold him down, which was the characteristic of the wind that was being seeped through his veins.

"Ahh..." Allen sighed. "Please don't let this end." he spoke to the wind, pleading.

"Young Master!" the silver eyed boy heard a male voice from afar. It was his butler, French, dressed in a tailcoat.

Like what he had done with his head maid, Belle, Allen ignored the calls of his butler to will his mind off his surroundings. The boy found it amusing; his natural ability to blend with the wind though not in a physical sense, but rather mentally.

"Young Master? Where art thou?" the butler, with his right hand cupped around his mouth, called yet again that abruptly brought Allen back to reality. "Thy visitors wilt be here at any moment!" the man yelled, and then huffed when no one answered his calls.

Allen, on the other hand, would have ignored the man completely. However, the way his butler was calling him broke his sanctuary. Even though the man was French, he was raised in England by an old couple.

"If thou wilt not appear, then I shall-"

"Alright! Alright!" exclaimed Allen, jumping on his feet and pumping his fists up and down whilst his eyes were tightly shut in annoyance. He cannot handle the power of his butler's way of speaking; it gradually cracked his skull. "I'm coming, okay? So, please...stop talking shit I could barely understand." he grumbled as he stomped his way toward his butler, who then accompanied him back the manor. "When will they arrive, Maurice?"

Maurice, the butler, had his eyes closed as he answered, "In just ten minutes, My Lord."

Allen rolled his eyes as he sighed. "You just called me Young Master not long ago, so kindly refrain from calling me Lord?" he looked over his shoulder to see Maurice smiling down at him. Sighing yet again, Allen looked back to the route they were walking on. "Sometimes I wonder if you're teasing me by speaking in such a way, and mocking me by calling me that. You know I'd rather you lot call me by my name like the old times unless we're not alone or something."

Maurice chuckled lightly. "I'm sorry if my way of speaking bothers thee. I shall change it then. And, no, My Lord. I am not teasing thee nor am I doing this on purpose. Thou might not entitle as the Walker's family patriarch officially yet, in my eyes thou art one."

Silence followed next after what the butler had told the young one. They did not look at each other as the man spoke, but the boy could somehow feel the unwavering loyalty the other was radiating despite the said man's tone that express nothing but light and empty promise. And, Allen had to think whether Maurice was speaking of the truth with conviction.

"By the way, My Lord."

Looking over his right shoulder once again to see his butler, Allen inquired, "Yes? What is it, Maurice?"

"... You are...kind, My Lord. I can see it in thine eyes." Maurice smiled radiantly, earning a pleased smiled from his superior. "Though sometimes thy rough side ruins thy kind image." the man chuckled in which the boy merely snapped his head back with a scowl already painted his face.

"I know. It's that bastard's fault that I, along with Mana and Neah, became like this. Belle said so." Allen grumbled under his breath.

Meanwhile, Cyrus, donned in his black trench coat, sat silently across from the twins in the carriage they were riding in with his cane between his legs whilst leaning back and staring out the window, watching as they passed by buildings and shops in the city. There was approximately seven minutes before they arrived at the Walker's manor in which he spent the past time reminiscing on the old memories where he was still a part of Allen's world. He was aware that there will be a time where those memories that he had took from the boy away will make their selves known, especially now that Allen came back after two years of silence from him. Allen will no doubt realize the missing piece in his puzzle with the help of the people and things around him, Cyrus knew it. And once Allen's lost memories came back, the boy will remember what Cyrus was to his life and the feeling of emptiness after losing his parents will certainly rush back, but it will not hurt as much as it did the day he was orphaned.

And you don't need to call forth the demon within me. Cyrus stared outside through the window longingly.

Mana and Neah, who both wore identical navy blue suit, had been chatting to one another happily until a moment ago when they noted their uncle's longing look. The twins shared a look that spoke of the question as to what had made the man before them seemed so lost in thought, before shrugging it aside.

Turning to his right, Mana pulled out a brown pocket book from his pants' back pocket. He then flipped it open and went farther down the pages. The boy had nothing else to do, and so he made up his mind to resume reading the book from where he had stopped last night.

Neah, on the other hand, had his hands balled into fists on his lap. His posture was stiffed as he stared at the man intently, sensing something he could not quite place that unnerved him.

It was as though someone was calling his attention in a literal sense even though he could hear nothing, but nonetheless, Cyrus turned his head and saw his nephew, Neah, was looking at him with intensity before those eyes snapped away from his person. What in the world was it? He asked himself.

As the Campbells made their way to the waiting Allen's manor, Cross was currently at the Black Order tower, sharing his knowledge among the other scientist. The red headed boy was working on a steel table in one of the many rooms of the Science Division, trying to develop something useful after he learned that communication was difficult between each members of the organization. And so, with the necessary tools lying around him on the table and floor, Cross began working on metals and sparks after finishing his blueprints and calculations.

While Cross was working, he was thinking at the same time of the thing one of the finders had brought back with them after coming back from a mission two days ago. He had heard that the person found a girl around twelve to fifteen years old on a deserted street, suspecting the said girl was an innocence wielder, thus he had brought her back. Cross had not seen the girl since that day though, and had been curious as what kind of power the girl had since he knew most, if not all, exorcists'

"YOU BOY!" someone bellowed that made the boy jumped and almost dropped the drill he was holding. Turning around, Cross saw a man in his late thirties with short brown hair in white lab coat, glaring at him. The man stomped his way in toward the boy, who merely watched the former dejectedly. Finally, the person stopped a meter away from Cross. "Who said you could leave me alone in that hell hole!?" snarled the man, clenching his fists in front of him whilst a vein throbbed painfully on his forehead.

"No one said I could." Replied Cross, not caring of any possible consequence that he might not like.

"Right. No one. So why, pray tell, that you left me and decided to go alone, working on that project of yours?"

"Well, no one told me it's forbidden to leave your side. Besides, what I'm working on is much better and useful than that trash you are forcing me to." Cross shrugged and went back to his project at hand.

The man in laboratory coat growled, which was only ignored by the younger one; his face was obscured by the shadow that was the menace, and bit out, "You…you dare call a coffee maker trash!? Dincha know that it's what we scientists are dreaming of? Coffee is the only source of our energy to go on sleepless nights, and you DARE speak ill of it!? How ungrateful!"

Still focused on his own task, Cross said, "Maybe you're right, but then again, this telecommunication would be a big help than that."

"What? We have telephones."

"Yeah, but not in all places. So, with this back pack, a finder can call the Order anytime and can also protect themselves with this built in barrier."

The man was speechless.

And the silence between the red headed boy and the brunette old one stretched furthermore, which bothered the former, and so he told the man to get lost already in which the man did, but not before leaving a negative remark of his behaviour.

"Tch. Stingy old bat." Grumbled Cross.

Finally, after ten or so minutes of waiting, Allen, who had been reading a book in his father's study, got up to open the door upon hearing someone knocked on it.

Allen grabbed a hold of the door knob, turned it, and pulled the door open, revealing Maurice.

"My Lord." Maurice greeted as he bowed. "They are here." He informed.

"Thank you Maurice. Take care of them for the meantime. I'll be downstairs in a few."

"As…you wish, My Lord." Maurice bowed once again before disappearing into the hallway, leaving a smirking boy who found it amusing hearing his butler almost speak in an old fashion way.