Author's Note: Been away for awhile, but Saya x Hagi are still dear to my heart. This one is a little dark, but angst is my middle name. ;)
Immutable Alchemy
"I will always love you, Saya."
Thunderous sound reverberates in Hagi's ears as the balconies shatter above his and Amshel's still-crystallizing form. For a split second the chevalier considers escape, but the beast is not yet finished. Returning to the task at hand, he plunges Saya's sword further into the hulk towering over him, confident that Kai will get Saya and the twins to safety. Amshel Goldsmith finally splinters into razor-like shards that rain down along with shattered debris burying Hagi alive.
Pain radiates through his body and he shudders, feeling his body grow cold as blood spills from multiple gaping wounds. Suffocating dust and grime fill his lungs instead of oxygen and he is on the verge of unconsciousness. Impenetrable darkness leaves only the scent of battle and the sounds of approaching aircraft, muffled howls and the one voice he could always hear amongst the throng of humanity.
"Not Hagi. Hagi. Hagiii!"
Saya's anguish pierces his heart. His name is a rallying cry he can not deny. Untold times she has called to him in battle: to locate, to warn, to encourage. In times of need, it's laden with bloodlust and in simpler times, fondness and friendship. This time it's different. This time, his name is shrouded with horror, with sorrow, with love. It is a cry, not by a Queen for her Knight but, by a woman for the man she loves.
It is all of these things that spur Hagi to maintain focus on regeneration. He pushes at the mesh of wood, metal and concrete pinning him at impossible angles. At first, there is no give. Then, as his Chiropteran arm asserts pressure, the massive tangle begins to loosen. He pauses but for a moment to catch his breath when he hears the whoosh of launched missiles. Suddenly, there's no time. He can recover from physical injury, but death by burning is fatal.
He has no choice.
Drawing upon inner reserves, he continues to press for freedom while surrendering his human mind to the Chiropteran he keeps suppressed. He has never before permitted himself such a thorough transmutation. He doesn't know or care what the result will be. The only thing that matters is survival. He must live - for Saya's sake.
He feels dizzy, nearly nauseous but his body is growing in power and size. His damaged wing sloughs away as two, new leathery protrusions burst through the thin flesh of his back, powerful bone and muscle aiding to lift massive debris away with unyielding force. Drawing breath, his lungs feel larger as they process not only oxygen but argon, as well.
Hagi emerges onto the crimson carpet of the theater and in one swift move, draws Amshel's blade from his torso. The wound begins closing at once. His senses are tripled in sensitivity bombarding him with stimuli; but there's no time to consider, only to act. Missiles are penetrating the outer walls of the opera house.
With only seconds to spare, he unfurls immense wings and catapults upward, sudden explosions pursuing him like the hounds of Hell, an inferno radiating devastating heat that chars his wings and singes the hair from his body. The ensuing blast wave veers his trajectory into a sideways spiral that carries him for several blocks before smashing him against a brick high-rise. On instinct, taloned claws find footing in the uneven façade and he clings there.
A final detonation rocks the plaza complex, dismantling the remaining structures in a firestorm. Turning away, Hagi scales the remaining ten stories and climbs onto the flat rooftop. Standing at the edge, he spies a squad of helicopters thumping towards the conflagration. They break formation and begin halogen sweeps in wide arcs, seeking stray beasts for kill shots with red-tipped ammo. Emergency vehicles are already on the scene and undaunted New Yorkers stop to gawk at the spectacle. Haji scans the skyline with eyes that can zoom in or out at will, seeking a new vantage point. The searchlights make flight unwise and his wings contract with a thought.
Redesigned vision enables Hagi to see far more than the visible light spectrum. The air itself seems aqueous. He doesn't get the science, but he can now see infrared, objects defined by heat-produced colors. Inorganic objects appear to be electro-magnetic outlines for bristling molecules. Yet organics, including humans, appear unchanged. He wonders for the first time what he looks like.
He hunts with heightened senses for his Queen, but she is ciphered by the incessant sensory bombardment he endures. He would never find her this way. Instead, he focuses on feeling her presence. Like tuning the strings of his cello, he could "tune" his mind to pulse in sympathetic vibration to her "melody." And, like any chiropteran, he could transmit those vibrations until they echo-located her position.
No sooner has he begun when the beam from a helicopter slices the night a few feet to his right, its light expanding as it nears. Haji backs off the ledge and speeds towards the building's entryway. Slamming a shoulder against the double steel door, he unhinges it completely. He descends to the lowest sub-basement, several stories beneath the street. Bare bulbs in ceiling cages are ripped from their sockets, a lone light in the stairwell the only illumination. A quick survey reveals a niche behind the building's enormous heating units. There, in its dark recess, Hagi gathers his thoughts.
An occasional internal twinge reminds him that his body is regenerating as a Chiropteran, not a human with Chiropteran tendencies. The experience is new… and unwanted. His body, from what he can tell in the gloom matches what his right arm and hand look like, black with patches of leathery red plating. Both arms end in claws with eight-inch long talons. His torso is lean and he's taller. His hindquarters are sinewy and powerful. His visage is unknown, but he's certain that Saya would be horrified if she saw him this way.
He hears the sound of footsteps and stills as only he can. A tense hour passes as his ultra-keen hearing picks up the sounds of apartment dwellers being forced to evacuate. He stiffens as a New York City cop enters the boiler room, flashlight in hand. The officer approaches Haji's hiding place. Exposure is near when a rat scurries across the floor eliciting a stream of expletives and hasty perusal of the boilers before a quick exit.
When he's certain he won't be disturbed again, Haji sinks to a crouch, absorbing his wings. He must regain his human form if he's to find Saya and the others. Only then can his skill as a chevalier serve them.
He focuses on reversing the transmutation. Nothing happens. He repeats, seeking to liberate the human will he'd subjugated earlier. He doesn't know what to feel. His emotions are - different – more instinctual than logical. Time and again he attempts recovery but the night advances without success.
Perhaps it's only a matter of time, or rest, or something he hasn't yet considered but he knows can't stay. Outside, it's cold and damp. The clouded sky is beginning to lighten. The helicopters are gone and Lincoln Center is smoldering wreckage. He imagines it will never be the same again. Like himself, perhaps.
It's then that Hagi faces the fact that he has never been taught how to transmute at will. Like an apprentice alchemist, his previous successes have been wrought by dire necessity, without planning or awareness of process. Now he needs a master to elucidate but they're all dead – Amshel, Nathan, James, Karl, Solomon. His enemies, yet kin to him in a twisted way. The terrible truth is that he has absolutely no idea what to do.
Releasing his wings, he rises in silence, flying southward for days without rest until coming to the verdant island off the American coast called Bermuda. There, under cover of night, he alights beside a small, white stucco house. It lay nestled midst the lush vegetation that grows to the water's edge on the less populated side of the island. It is here that he often stays during Saya's Sleep and he has always found it to be both peaceful and beautiful. It is neither to him right now.
He enters the shuttered cottage, locking the door behind him. He crosses the room and passes a mirror that hangs above a small table by the window. He stops to look at his Chiropteran face. In stature, he is a foot taller than his human self and his head is serpent-like in shape. The creature returns his gaze with blue eyes both menacing and sad. Unlike Amshel, Hagi doesn't recognize himself in the creature's features, but when he stretches out a claw to touch the glass, the reflection does the same.
All at once, the air is stifling. He jogs down the sand until he reaches a long natural jetty of huge volcanic boulders that seem to have tumbled into the sea from the cliffs above. The pearlescent moon is large and full casting sharp, concealing shadows. He stands beneath a group of low-slung palms, their curving trunks extending over the sand like fingers, thick fronds drooping to touch the tide. There he stands, pondering his future.
The sun rises, slides through meridian and begins its descent towards the horizon. As blue sky turns rose-hued, Haji finally moves. He maneuvers the jetty's algid stones with practiced ease until he stands at the point. Ten feet below, a flat outcrop juts outward. Three open sides and a sheer drop to the water have created an oubliette of sorts. Inaccessible to humans, Haji reaches it and sits down, his hindquarters tucked beneath him, his back to the wall. Tangerine and magenta streaks paint the sky reminding him of Okinawa and one particular seaside barbeque where Saya and her family enjoyed the simple pleasures of living. Riku was so young and Kai was just being Kai. Saya… was happy.
So much has changed.
He would have done it – killed Diva's babies if Saya had asked him to do so. As her chevalier, he could not deny her. But kill Saya herself? With Diva dead, the promise he'd made so long ago loomed before them, freezing him in place with ferocious ambivalence until Kai - Kai with the quick temper, soft heart and iron will who ultimately forced his hand, demanding that Hagi at long last admit that which he so desperately wanted.
He would remember forever the astonishment in her eyes as he knelt before her, imploring her to live. He would remember her shy stillness as he caressed her hair and forever her eyes as they widened in surprise and acknowledgement of a Truth he had long ago dismissed as impossible. Either of those things would have been enough. But she went on to press her cheek to his and murmur that she wanted to live, wanted him with her. He couldn't help himself and placed a gentle, almost sacred kiss on her cheek. And he would always, always remember how she turned her head and breathed his name against his lips before kissing him. She was soft and warm, giving without taking anything from him though he gave in return. It was a tender beginning, a kiss they might have shared before that fateful day when he became her chevalier instead of her lover.
No, she must never see him this way. Not after everything they've been through. Not when tomorrow promises so much. The injustice of it is maddening; isolation his only refuge. That and the nascent thought that perhaps, somewhere in the Goldschmidt records, his deliverance might be found. But perhaps not.
Dropping his chin onto his chest, his head in his hands, he leans forward to uncurl his wings to create a canopy that obscures his face. Hagi then learns that Chiropterans share a singular trait with humans – they weep.
END - Immutable Alchemy