


The World is Backwards

by Blighter



Category: Zatch Bell
Genre: Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2008-12-21
Updated: 2009-02-17
Packaged: 2013-07-22 01:51:40
Rating: T
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,110
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4731092/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1350859/Blighter
Summary: Enter the Von Stelkin family, a bloodline with an obsession for the history of Demon-Kind debunked because of their teason to King Gash. Full Summary Inside. Chapter 1 Rewritten.





	The World is Backwards

The World is Backwards

Story by: Blighter

Summary: Enter the Von Stelkin family, a bloodline with an obsession for the history of Demon-Kind debunked because of their treason to King Gash. The last two surviving members hack though the great battle with the infamy of their family's insurgency weighing them down. The year is 3005. The battle will soon reach its conclusion.

Disclaimer: I do not own the anime series Zatch Bell/Gash Bell. I have not made any profit from writing this fanfiction.

AN: I took down the older version of the first chapter because I didn't like where it was going. I'll start things off differently.

There are 2 things I worry most about my writing. I want to know if it keeps your interest and is easy to understand.

Please review with the following template:

Overall Quality: 1-10 Score

Interest Factor: 1-5 Score

Clarity of Plot: 1-5 Score

Flow: 1-5 Score

Comments: [Your Thoughts Here]

**Chapter One**

A Late Entry

"_Master Byron, I would advise that you should truly make an effort to polish your study skills. They're absolutely deplorable for someone of your stature."_

_An old and thin-faced tutor chided a boy no older than five years of age. His wrinkled face and thin eyes arranged themselves in a way that expressed great displeasure. He stared down at the child with a heavy grimace._

_The boy merely frowned and did nothing else. There were no tears and no sobbing. He was able to come up with a clear and easily understandable. "Sorry." He then adjusted his long white bangs, combed neatly to the sides of his face and brushed invisible dust from his silky white robe. Fidgeting and diverting his eyes from his teacher were never part of his usual mannerisms. Something in him had changed recently._

"_Your attendance and performance have been slipping a great deal, child. Don't you feel any shame?" The boy's tutor asked more loudly than he should have._

"_I've been very… busy with someone." He responded without any zest._

"_With who, young master?" The scholar questioned in an impatient tone._

"_With Rumi, my sister. She's been showing me the vault of demon history archives. We've been reading them day in and day out." He yawned._

_The mentor sighed. "Byron, studying comes first. Your family always seemed to be drawn to that room. I've dealt with your father and mother before, and I must say that you are not too much unlike them."_

"_The tomes are… interesting. I can't seem to keep away from them." Byron said admittedly._

"_I know." The elderly one said. "Most people who hire instructors of my caliber are diligent workers who do their best to learn. Those other family tutors are lucky, for I'm stuck with the Von Stelkin. This family for which I have served for centuries and have never changed. Your family is too distracted by their own writing achievements that they so blatantly show contempt for my teaching."_

_Byron couldn't help but look to the side sheepishly, with a silly grin._

"_Such love for your own writing… such narcissism." The tutor said in a disappointed tone. "Even after all these years, I have never seen any member of your family develop the love for your documented history books as quickly as you. It's a great shame, you and Rumi are such bright children, yet you enjoy studying tales of the long deceased."_

"_Erm… Sorry." Bryon muttered._

"_Class is dismissed. I'll be back tomorrow." The scholar said as he hefted a large backpack over his student. "Your accumulated make-up work is in here." The sack fell down to the ground with a thud which made Byron cringe._

_The old demon turned to leave the study room they were in. "Get some rest before you get started on this." He said with his back to the young boy. "You can't expect to finish anything as tired as you are."_

_He took a few steps forward, but stopped in order to say one more thing. "Also, exhibit some self-control. History books are only history books, even if they were written by your ancestors. Please be more focused on the present. You will find yourself making your own history after that."_

_With that said, he was off leaving Byron with a burdensome load of textbooks and notebooks. The boy took a deep breath and pulled hard on one of the straps until he managed to drag it out of room and into the hall. There, he heard footsteps, light and rapid, approaching him. Soon, he came face to face with a little girl about his age._

_Nay, she was exactly his age. She was Rumi, his dear twin sister. She sported the same type of long bangs as her brother, only, she let them stay down rather than combing them. She also allowed her black hair to grow long in the back. Their faces looked much alike. The only differences they had were the swapped colors of their hair and eyes. Byron's black eyes were complemented by his ivory hair and Rumi's white eyes were complemented with her ebony hair._

_She supported herself by putting her hands to her knees, panting loudly. Her delicate dark dress was splotched with sweat, not from her sprint but from a fever that kept her from attending her session. Gradually, her gasping slowed and she was able to speak clearly with her brother._

"_That's quite a load you have there." She easily took notice to the enormous sack of work._

"_Yeah, it's from Teacher." Byron said as he let the strap go so he could wipe his brow._

_Rumi made a pseudo grouchy face after hearing Byron's words. "Oh. You mean it's from that old grump, Malachi? You're no trouble-maker. What did you do, brother?"_

_Bryon was taken aback by Rumi's words. He wasn't used to calling any of his seniors by their actual names. It was a form of disrespect to do so, and hearing it come out of Rumi's mouth felt just as bad as it coming out of his. Nevertheless, he knew his sister was more frivolous than him so it shouldn't keep bothering him._

"_This is make-up work." Byron said after a while. "He's sort of… mad that I don't do well in his lessons because of our meetings in the archive vault."_

_Rumi huffed. "That old fart. He doesn't understand the duty of a Stelkin." She stuck her nose in the air, though her ailment undermined her proud stance._

_Byron ignored her insult to their teacher and posed a question. "Rumi, how well are you keeping up? I mean, you visit the archives as much as I do. Don't you have make-up work?"_

"_Nope, not at all." Rumi said proudly._

_Byron was shocked. "Why not?" He almost blared._

_Rumi blinked several times. She wore a puzzled expression after seeing Byron's reaction. However, her perplexed expression soon melted and gave way to an "ah-ha" type of look._

"_I get it. I haven't told you about Daddy's cheat-sheet. Sorry."_

"_Cheat-sheet?" Byron repeated._

_Rumi began to explain. "Yeah. You see, Daddy wrote a syllabus for Malachi's courses when he was being taught. It outlines the main ideas of the subjects and has hundreds of answers for the assignments. He gave it to me and told me to share it with you, but it slipped my mind several times." She chuckled._

_She handed a folded piece of line paper to her brother. "Just make sure to keep it out of that geezer's sights."_

_Byron nodded and stowed it inside of a pocket in his pants. Though cheating was dishonest, he valued the history books over virtue._

"_Now that work's out of the way," Rumi said, all businesslike, "I was thinking we cover the ancient history of demon-kind from when battles used to be fought on our soil, on our own world. Does that sound like a good time era?"_

"_But Rumi, you're ill." Byron argued. "Are you sure you can read?"_

"_It's okay." She sniffed. "You can read for me. Is that alright? I can still listen."_

"_Uh, yeah. As long as you're able to follow along."_

"_Then it's settled then." Rumi said with a sudden burst of energy. She grabbed Byron by the wrist and took off into the countless long hallways of the Von Stelkin Manor. His feet failed to keep up with hers, swift and physically adept, his grinded along the polished tiles._

_They never reached the archives. The hallways were endless, and they seemed to go on forever…_

"_Byron."_

"Byron."

"Excuse me, Byron, are you still asleep?"

Byron eased out from slumber. The five-year-old incarnation of him that he embodied in his dream vanished. The comforting warm feelings that came with that form left as the illusion receded back into his memory.

With his back down on a bed of dried grass, he strained to open eyes that had been bolted together by an eye-crust buildup. With some effort, he forced himself to sit up.

Byron Von Stelkin was very well grown. Now a young adult, he had the appearance to balance with the age. He was just about as tall as most grown ups, as his head would neither rise nor sink below a crowd. His hair had not changed a bit since his childhood, but what did change was his face. Drained of all naivety and young innocence, he always wore a stern look aided by the lack of fat at his cheeks leaving his cheek bones visible. Bitterness and maturity shined forth from his narrowed eyes.

He rolled his head tiredly at who caused him to stir and awaken. In front of him was a small toddler. His youthful, wide eyes and beaming face put his looks at a complete opposite to the young adult's. The most striking feature of this child was small white horns protruding from his head of short black hair. He was clad in rough looking rags, full of patches.

"Mornin' sir!" He greeted cheerfully. The two boys looked to be a strange pair. One looked like he was born from nobility, the other from dirt and labor. In their surroundings, a simple hut with straw walls and a straw roof, Byron seemed out of place. Despite that, the royal made a bow with his head and returned a, "Good Morning." at the child.

His tired and half-hearted response, surprisingly, was all that was needed to make the young demon boy quiver with happiness. His glee was contagious as it gave the noble a small pep up in his spirits.

"Aren't we chipper today?" He commented laxly at the exuberant child.

"I'm sorry." The demon child said though his hands cuffed over his mouth. "It's just that you were smiling in your sleep. I was afraid you would get mad if I woke ya."

"No… I'm not angry… just still a little upset…" The older demon said as he struggled to get a yawn out.

The cheerful little boy suddenly stopped giggling, but his smile did not leave. "You've been very sad lately. You haven't spoken with my Ma and Pa in a long time, ever since ya yelled at them."

Byron looked dead ahead at the demon boy. His mood suddenly turned sour and the happiness that the boy exuded ceased to be uplifting but was now irritating. He had just said the wrong thing at the wrong time, and for a moment Byron was tempted to go back to sleep right in front of him, no questions and no comments.

Instead, he decided against it when, by chance, he saw the window over the shoulder of the boy. Sunshine poured down and a delightful warm current of air entered though carrying the luscious scent of flowers. From the looks of it, a stroll outside beat staying in a sorry excuse for a house.

"I'm going outside…" The noble boy declared without paying heed to the boy's statement. He got up and headed for the door looking like a flowing cloud of silky white robes.

"Ah, you're getting up?" The young demon boy chirped as he invited himself. "It's been a long time since you did that! People were scared about ya."

The grown demon sighed as he pushed open a rickety old door and let sunlight spill inside. He was greeted by the vast fields of Rural Demon World.

Simple dirt-beaten paths, a small yet dense community of modest huts, azure mountains in the distance, fields of farmland and beyond that an endless horizon of healthy green grass. It was a beautiful sight that thawed his ice-heart. Not that he had one.

No. Unlike most noblemen, Byron found nothing wrong, nothing undesirable, and nothing backwards about the peasants who lived in the remote areas of Demon World, far out of the reach of the King's influence.

It was that dream. That dream where he was once a member of Demon World's hierarchy a good fourteen years ago.

Fourteen years…

Fourteen years… In fourteen years he unwillingly traded everything he had for this. It was ample time for him to lose his parents to their petty indulgences. It was enough time for his lovable sister to become the most hated character in the entirety of the royal demon court.

He clutched his heart.

It was enough time for Von Stelkin Manor to be burnt down, and left without a single action of justice. It was in fourteen troublesome years that he practically crawled, dragged himself into obscurity amongst these common folk. All of this trouble brought on by a single act of treason against their king…

"Byron…" The young demon boy's voice snapped his train of thought. He spotted his companion with his hand at the heart and sensed something was wrong. "You don't look too good."

"Oh…" Byron didn't believe that he heart-grabbing would be so obvious. "I was just thinking-"

"About your past life?" The boy finished for him.

"Y-Yes. How did you know?" The noble asked.

"Felt it." The young boy boasted proudly. "We're bestest friends. I always know how you're feelin'."

"Hah! I don't think it's too hard to figure me out." The noble said without a hint of mirth. "Besides, Suzaku, I've always been this way, ever since I first asked to live with your people."

The peasant boy referred as Suzaku shook his little head in disagreement. "Nuh-uh! That's not true!" He argued. "You've been a lot nicer to us before. Before you started thinking 'bout your old home."

Byron sighed. It was true. He had been on better terms with these people before thoughts of his old life came back to remind him who he was. His stroll out in the crop fields of his residence was guided only by Suzaku's hand pulling on his as the royal recalled more.

It had been a year since he entered these lands as a stranger. With his arms and legs heavy and whatever remaining historical documents he could salvage from the burnt remains of his estate on his back, he struggled to escape the persecution of those who pursued him for his family's insubordinate action. The people here were charmingly simple and generous to him. Suzaku's parents took him in without question.

"Oi! Suzaku!" An elderly demon spotted the two and halted his work on tilling the fields to speak up. "Who's that with you? Did you finally get Byron off of bed?" He said heartily.

He walked up to the both of them, a sweaty bearded crispy demon man. "Been a long time since I've seen you again Byron. Have you finally come out of that rut? Everyone here's been real worried 'bout you."

"No." The noble answered in a flat tone. "I'm still stuck in there. I just decided that I should mingle a bit with you folk to get my mind on something else."

"Huh." The old man looked a bit disheartened while at Byron's side, he felt Suzaku tug on his arm. The young boy looked up at him disapprovingly.

Suzaku dragged the noble away from the old man as an angry mother pulls a child by the ear. "Byron! You shouldn't make people worry 'bout ya."

"Humph!" Byron pulled his hand away from the younger demon angrily. The young demon peasant was not intimidated by the outburst, however. He continued to eye the noble reproachfully. Byron returned that by leering back. Ugly memories began to pervade his mind as the tension built.

Why did Byron suddenly begin treat these people with spite? These were people who took him in out of the goodness in their hearts. These were people who offered what little they had for him.

Well… The announcement of the new Great Battle for the throne of Demon World reached all corners of the globe. When word of it reached these rural lands, Byron's attitude had become dark and moody. Unable to participate and unable to make a difference in the legendary battles as written in his favorite history books, he fell into a depressive slump. He found himself to be irritable and likely to lash out at anyone. Even at his good friend, Suzaku.

Eventually, Byron's petty glare faltered in front of Suzaku's righteous one. He sighed and closed his eyes painfully in defeat. "I-I'm… sorry about that…" He stammered as he fought back tears. Unfortunately, some seeped though his shut eyelids making him look rather pathetic…

Suzaku took notice to his friend's tears, but would not seek to further humiliate him. He gripped Byron's hand tightly with his two little ones. "C'mon, it's real nice outside and everyone's happy to see you up. Don't ya wanna tell stories to everyone like ya used to?"

"Y-Yes… That would be lovely…" The older demon sobbed weakly as he wiped the tears away from his eyes.

"Good!" Suzaku chirped as he pulled his companion's arm.

"Please… forgive me for my curt behavior, Suzaku." The older demon said as he tried to keep up, noticing that his feet were dragging on the dirt path. "Just the thought of my family name being trampled on back at home… The Demon Battle… I just wanted a chance to fix everything. I've always dreamt that if I could win the throne… maybe things would look up for my name…"

"Hah. Ya can't keep thinkin' about things ya don't have control over." The demon boy advised, pulling the two of them into the center of the small village, the nexus of all the dirt beaten paths.

Byron's eyes flew wide open when he saw the entire community of these common folk gathered in that spot, all waiting for him with eager enthusiasm. Demons young and old were sitting cross-legged in a circle, happy to see that the noble had finally found the will to get up and greet them.

These people felt naturally drawn to him. Not for his airy tongue or his lofty appearance but because he destroyed everything that separated those of noble birth and those of sweat and tears. Though his stories of the far off kingdom of Demon World were interesting and enriching, his display of no contempt for them alone endeared him to their hearts.

Suzaku pushed Byron into the center, suddenly putting him on the spot. The noble could already feel his body heat up from the awkward situation. He hadn't let himself see these people for over a month and he had even forgotten some faces.

"Urm… Hey everyone…" Byron spotted Suzaku take his place in between his parents, two wrinkled up hairless demons. Seeing his friend in the crowd made him feel slightly more comfortable, but words still escaped him.

"Oi! Byron! Aren't you going to finish that story you started last month?" A voice spoke up from the crowd to get him back into focus.

"Ah right… what was I talking about last time?" Byron had forgotten what historical tale he spun for these people due to his recent depression. The demon children who sat closest to him giggled at his absentmindedness.

"You left us on a cliffhanger." One of the demon children said to him. "It was a story of King Gash fighting against Zophise. You stopped on the part after Zophise surrounded King Gash with his army."

"Ah yes." He sounded. He felt a little guilty for retiring from his audience for almost a month and leaving them in suspense.

Byron sat himself down on the dirt, not minding that his only set of clothes would be dirtied. He made himself comfortable and the story immediately came to his mind. He began to speak to his eager audience.

"King Gash and his book-master, the legendary genius Kiyomaro, had just won over their opponent, Pamoon. It was a painful battle of fear, but they managed to convince the millennium demon to go against Zophise, the manipulator of hearts." He recapped, bringing an air of suspense over the crowd. The noble grinned slightly, having so many people on his every word.

"Unfortunately, Zophise surprises them all from above with his despicable presence. His entire vanguard of millennium demons surrounded them all. Worse, Gash's overly fanatical fangirl, Patie, looked at them from the air with utter malice, bringing the aerial division of Zophise's army. Even worse still, Zophise burns Pamoon's book with little effort, leaving Gash, Kiyomaro, and the equally injured Umagon and Kafka to face against impossible odds without their newest ally."

The crowd looked as if they were hungry for new material, and provided. "And just when all hope seemed lost, two of the most unlikely characters came to their rescue…"

Time seemed to mean nothing when Byron spun that story. He spoke of kind-spirited Gash, fierce Brago, villainous Zophise, willful Tio, tragic Reira, and many more unforgettable characters. He ended right before the confrontation with Demoruto, feeling that that was a fitting place to leave on. It was mid-noon when he finished, and when he finished, everyone got up and stretched out. The demon children in the crowd reflected on their muses.

"Brago's scary…"

"Zophise is a jerk…"

The entire community thanked Byron for a richly told continuation and dispersed, not caring that they were behind on chores. All left except for Suzaku and his parents who slowly approached the winded noble.

"You look better." Suzaku's mother said in a feeble, aging voice. "Looks like yer finally up an' going."

"It was Suzaku who helped." Byron credited humbly.

"Was nothing." The boy said, waving his hand, though he didn't sound modest at all.

There was a short silence. Byron was slightly ashamed that he was speaking to Suzaku's parents after what he did, after he made such a scene with them one night…

"That was one heck of a story. Wouldn't you say so, Sophie?" Suzaku's father said with his back to Byron, speaking in the wrong direction.

"Over here, Saul." Suzaku's mother turned her husband around to face the right way. He groped about aimlessly and flashed a toothless grin. He was supposedly blind.

"…Erm… are you okay with this? Are you sure you can forgive me just because I'm up?" Byron quickly chimed in. He felt guilty at their tolerance for him.

"Byron, we all know you want to go to Human World. When people like us look at it, it means nothing. But you are very different from us so it must mean a lot. We understand why you behaved that way." The elderly Sophie explained as if she were skirting the topic.

The noble boy remained silent for a moment before stepping up again. "Listen… What I asked of you earlier and how I reacted… I wish I hadn't done that… I was selfish."

"Don't blame yourself." Suzaku's father, referred to as Saul, said. "I would've done the same thing if I were your age. I was quite the sapling, wasn't I Sophie? Whenever I couldn't get my way, I could go as low as you Byron, throwing a fit like a baby… sleeping for days… garnering sympathy… Ah, good times…" He cackled in senility.

Byron turned red at Saul's last comment. It seemed to hurt more than help. Surely he didn't remember himself acting so childlike…

"It's okay." Suzaku made himself heard. "It must've hurt ya a lot to not join the Demon Battle. I THINK that's what Pa is trying to tell ya… in his own way…"

Byron was about to give his friend a nod, but was soon interrupted.

"That's why… that's why we did it for you…" Suzaku said importantly.

Byron was surprised. "You don't mean…"

Suzaku stepped forward and held something out in front of the astonished noble. A mis-shapened tome with a bent spine and wrinkled pages enraptured the demon.

"Your book." Suzaku confirmed.

"My book." Byron echoed. This was so sudden. "You shouldn't have… The way I've been acting doesn't deserve merit." He spoke the opposite of what he honestly wanted.

"We've worked on it together." Suzaku ignored him. "Even Pa helped."

The sightless Saul smiled.

"We followed the instructions on your book-making scroll and made this. Everyone pitched in. Now ya can go to Human World. Don'cha wanna go? You've always wanted it."

Byron looked down. He saw an ugly image of himself yelling at Suzaku's family when they first refused to build the book for him. He shivered at the thought. Suzaku placed the tome in the older demon's hands to get his attention.

The noble forced a smile and Suzaku's family did the same. "This reminds me of a good story of another demon. It's the story of Weisman, a demon who crafted a book and entered the last battle as the 101st demon…" He said behind a facade of glee. Suzaku's parents were not fooled.

He cleared his throat. "Thank you… You don't know how badly I wanted this… If there is any way I could repay you…"

"Stay with us for tonight." Suzaku's mother said. "You don't have to go today… We don't want to see you take off as soon as you've got what you wanted. You're like family here…"

Byron nodded. Suzaku's family smiled warmly. Even his father, who couldn't see the nod smiled.

"Though I want to know…" Byron pondered grievingly. "I want to know why my family betrayed King Gash."

Suzaku's family would have normally stopped him from thinking about his painful past, but they allowed it this time.

"King Gash is a great ruler. I would expect villains like Zophise or Leo to betray him, but why MY family? We've always loved Demon World. We've always respected our rulers."

"I want to go to Human World. In history books, demons who enter the battle always come out with some sort of awakening… I hope I can find out why we got into this mess to begin with… I hope I can find my awakening… I hope I can make things better for myself…"

"Also…" The noble paused. "I'm very worried about my sister. I haven't heard from her since we went our separate ways… I wonder how she's faring… I wonder if she's hurting as much as me…"

Suzaku looked at him. A demon lost in thought. He came to when he noticed he was standing out.

"Byron… even if you can't find your answers… You'll always have a home here."

"Still… I want to hope for the best… I want to fix everything…"

Suzaku looked up sadly at the grown demon. Byron noticed the sad look on the child's face. The frown looked wrong on that young boy, so he immediately stopped his pondering.

"I'll worry about that stuff tomorrow. Right now, I'll just enjoy my time with your family, Suzaku." Byron spoke with an air of relief. Suzaku's family had felt it too. They picked themselves up and began to march back home.

**End Chapter 1**

**-Next Episode-**

Myrui: My name is Myrui Acoffca, a fencing expert. I was driven from my fencing session by my limousine driver. It was going to be just another dull day, but things suddenly change when my driver points a gun at me and my father is shot in his own office. Stranger still, a man gets between me and my assailant and took a bullet without flinching. I don't understand what's going on, but it certainly is… anecdotal…

OOOOO

Blighter: I've taken the first chapter and completely changed everything. How do you think of the new plot? Byron enters the Demon Battle late and must quickly build a relationship with his book-keeper in order to survive while trying to find his place in Demon World.

Suzaku: Your reviews will really help Blighter's writing too, ya know. If ya read this story, don't just click out. REVIEW! Anonymous reviews are accepted too.

Blighter: Swiftly put, Suzaku.

Byron: Hey! What's the deal with me CRYING in this chapter?! Explain yourself!

Blighter: Uh… Well you see… It's a clever contrast between your younger self and your older self. You see, you didn't cry as a child when your teacher scolded you, but you cried when Suzaku scolded as an adult. Get it? It's supposed to imply that you have gotten weaker in the time between your childhood and adulthood. Keh.

Byron: Oh… But still, you made me look so… pathetic…

Suzaku: Well I think it makes you look like a… uh… sensitive guy.

Byron: Hmm…

Blighter: Well, that's all for now… I'll see how far I can take this story…

Byron: There had better be no future scenes with me crying…

Blighter: Keh keh.


End file.
