THE LAST DANCE
There it was. The white city of Seyruun. How long had it been since he'd seen it last? Three years, at least, if not more. Probably more, he admitted to himself sullenly. Had it really been so long since he'd seen the white walls of the city? Had it really been more than three years since he'd revisited Seyruun? Had it really been that long since he'd seen Amelia?
Their parting over three years ago had not been an easy, nor a pleasant, one. Amelia hadn't wanted him to go looking for his cure, but he was determined, resolute, and stubborn. Unfortunately, so was she. The only way he could leave the palace finally was to slip away during the night, leaving a letter on Amelia's bedside table, promising to return soon with his cure.
Remembering that memory, Zelgadis winced. That hadn't been the way he'd wanted to leave Amelia. She was probably in tears when she found out he was gone. He'd never meant to hurt her. That was the last thing that he wanted. It was one of his sole purposes for getting his cure. It was too easy to hurt somebody accidentally with his stone body.
Unfortunately, Zelgadis's search for his cure was again met without success. For those three long years, the chimera had searched temples, ransacked ruins, and literally tore apart libraries looking for answers, hints, clues, anything.
All to no avail.
And, after long last, the road had led his feet back to Seyruun, city of white magic, which lay spread out below him from his position on a small rise just before the city. They repaired the walls and roads, he noticed with a fleeting chuckle, remembering that day when Lina inadvertently destroyed a small section of the city in an attempt to save it from being crushed by a floating estate.
And how long has it been since you've even heard from Lina and Gourry? Zelgadis asked himself, staring down at the white city. He hadn't heard from them in a while, even while staying at the palace. It wasn't very easy to keep in contact with someone constantly traveling around the world.
That was also the excuse he gave himself for not writing to Amelia. What's the point of sending her a letter if she can't ever find me to write back? he'd often asked himself on the road. He justified himself by saying she'd only be reminded of his leaving, which wouldn't cheer her up at all, just depress her.
Of course, he was wrong, but he hoped that if he told himself he was right enough, then he might actually believe it.
But now, standing just outside the vast white city, Zelgadis knew he couldn't stay away any longer. He had to see Amelia again. Something inside him seemed almost to push him forward as he journeyed, subconsciously forcing him back to Seyruun. He'd often wondered at those many intersections in the road, why he always took the one leading back to Seyruun. Now he knew why.
Amelia.
Just the name brought memories flooding back. Her raven hair, her bright sapphire eyes, her smile, her seemingly carefree, oblivious, and yes, sometimes annoying, preaching of justice. Everything about her was transfixed in his mind. An image of her constantly burned in the back of his eyes whenever he thought about her. For so long, he'd been so far away, that the idea of seeing her again seemed nearly impossible.
But now! Now, being so close to the capital city where the princess lived, Zelgadis knew he couldn't hold back any longer. He couldn't turn away now. He had to see her again, no matter the cost.
And yet...
He'd promised Amelia in the letter he wrote her that night that he'd return with his cure. Which he hadn't. He was still the freakish chimera who had left that very city over three years ago, in search of something that probably didn't exist.
Yes, he knew there was a very small chance, if any, that a cure for him even existed, and yet he still tried. Why? he often asked himself. Why look for it when I know I can't find it? The answer was very simple.
Amelia.
She was the answer to a lot of his questions lately, for he had discovered, in his wanderings, that he cared very deeply for her. He couldn't place a finger on the time that he realized it. It wasn't a sudden epiphany, or a dawning realization. It was more a gradual acceptance of something he had known, but refused to admit. And as he grew to explore his feelings deeper, he tried harder than ever to find his cure. Because, in his mind, there was no way he could be together with Amelia if he looked the way he did. It was already all too easy to hurt her with that body, not to mention what people would say if they say them in public together.
And so, Zelgadis had searched. Three long years. And it was all for naught.
No, he told himself. It wasn't a worthless journey. And indeed it wasn't, for it was on his seemingly foolish quest that his feelings for Amelia were truly revealed to himself. It was what had led him to come back again. Of course, if I hadn't left in the first place, I wouldn't have to come back, Zelgadis snapped to himself. But, he added as an afterthought. If I hadn't left, I probably wouldn't feel this way. Or, rather, not know that I had felt this all along.
And now, overlooking the city, Zelgadis knew what he had to do. He had to see Amelia again, even just for a fleeting moment. But he couldn't let her see him still a chimera. He couldn't bear to let her see him break a promise like that. He had no idea how he would manage his invisible visit, but he would deal with that problem when it came time.
Right now, he had to walk the final stretch to the city. And how long that final stretch did feel as he finally walked it. The short quarter mile to the gates of Seyruun seemed to take forever, though Zelgadis kept with a brisk pace. How this short distance somehow seemed to last an eternity, even compared to his three years of wandering, Zelgadis didn't know. The only thing he knew at that moment was that he had to see Amelia again, and he had to arrange it so she wouldn't see him.
The thought that he still had to plan their meeting slowed Zelgadis's quick step after he entered the city. He slowed to a stop, deep in thought, and took the time too look around. The white city hadn't changed much over the past few years, he noted. The same white towers glistened in the sunlight, the same busy market streets were filled with the same peaceful and happy citizens. The same marble roads and bridges wound their way through the city, creating the same magic circle within the city to protect it from black magic. The same temples shone pure and white, with people milling around the holy devotional houses to the Flare Dragon Ciepheed.
And the same glorious white and gold palace stood towering ahead. The sun reflected on the bright gold, making it seem almost as if to glow. The palace itself seemed almost whiter than the rest of the buildings, though it was no newer nor cleaner than the others. It had a regal feel about it, but not a noble air, as many palaces did. No, the palace didn't feel noble, because Prince Philionel cared nothing for rank or social status. In his eyes, any peasant was as good as a nobleman, if they both were pure of heart. The Prince did not view himself higher than his citizens, but rather, on the same level as them. He did not see himself as a prince or a ruler, but simply an advisor to the people, and a peace keeper.
That palace was Zelgadis's destination. It was also one of the last places he wanted to enter again. He couldn't dash out of his mind those final few days he'd spent in the palace with Amelia. The tenseness of those days was almost palpable, and he and Amelia had gotten into verbal arguments several times a day.
Stop it, Zelgadis said to himself sternly. You're not here to dwell on the past. You're here to see Amelia. And right now, you have to think of how to manage it without letting her see that you broke your promise.
Sighing, Zelgadis looked around the market block he was standing in. Various trading and bartering activities were taking place at different booths. Seyruun had a wide range of items in their markets, some things Zelgadis had never seen before. Such as a vendor nearby selling musical instruments. One of the instruments seemed to be a strange cross of a harp and a violin. It had the basic shape of a harp, but, as the seller demonstrated, one used a bow rather than pluck it.
Other vendors and items caught Zelgadis's eye, but only one thing in the entire market caught his eye-- and held it.
It was what, at first glance, appeared to be a normal poster, advertising some sale or another. A closer look, however, revealed that it was, in fact, a flyer, advertising an event to be held at the palace. A masked ball. It was to take place that very night, just past sunset.
Zelgadis stared at that flyer. His luck, and timing, couldn't have been better! He could go to the palace with a costume and mask, see Amelia without being recognized, and be on his way that very night.
"...going to the mask tonight?"
Zelgadis's sharp hearing picked up a part of a conversation happening nearby. Not wanting to be rude, Zelgadis tried to ignore them, but when he heard Amelia's name, he couldn't help but overhear.
"...not doing too well these days."
"Really?"
"Seems she's been falling into a dull depression type thing. Not healthy for a young lass. Especially a princess."
"So they're having the mask to boost her spirits?"
"Seems like it."
"Poor lass..."
"Hope her Da's idea works."
Depression? Low spirits? That didn't sound at all like the Amelia Zelgadis had left. I guess, even though Seyruun may have stayed the same, people change much more quickly.
Zelgadis quickly dismissed the idea of Amelia being in a state of depression, and focused on other matters. To attend the mask, he needed a costume. And a mask, of course.
The first place Zelgadis found that suited his needs was a small tailor's shop just around a corner. In honor of the ball, the manager of the small store was also selling masks. From the street, Zelgadis looked in through the display window at the masks on show. Most of them were very gaudy and over decorated, with enormous feathered plumes, glitter, or sequins covering every empty space. Zelgadis made a face. That was definitely not the type of mask he'd like to wear.
But in the midst of all the feathers, colors, ribbons, and baubles, Zelgadis spied one mask that was extremely different. It was a simple white mask, no decoration, no adornments, with only small holes for the eyes.
Nodding, Zelgadis entered the tailor shop. The tailor himself seemed very glad to have another customer, and instantly hurried over to Zelgadis. "How can I help you, sir?" the short statured, slightly balding man asked in a twittery voice.
"I need a mask and outfit for the masked ball," Zelgadis told him. The tailor was so short that Zelgadis had to look down-- way down --to meet his eyes.
"Oh, of course, of course!" the tailor sang. "If you're looking for masks, I have the perfect one for you, my good sir." The tailor dashed over to a display case, nearly waddling, and reached for a very flashy mask of bright green sequins and deep purple plumes off to either side.
Zelgadis nearly gagged at the thought of wearing something like that in public. "I want that one," Zelgadis said, diverting the tailor's attention to the simple white mask sitting in a different display case.
The tailor sputtered for a moment, before he actually managed to get any words out. "That one?" he echoed, not bothering to hide the dubious tone in his voice as he pointed to the mask.
"Yes, that one," Zelgadis said firmly.
For a minute, the tailor traded equally odd stares between the mask and Zelgadis, before suddenly bursting out in a huge grin. He clapped his hands together, and said, "Oh! You want me to dress it up for you!" The short tailor very nearly hopped over to the display case as he rambled, "I can add some frills and ribbons, maybe some lace, and most definitely one of those lovely feathered plumes, and--"
"Just," Zelgadis interrupted sharply. "The white mask, please."
"But... But..." the other stammered. "Surely you want something more decorative! Festive! This... This is an occasion to celebrate, and... and..." The tailor trailed off at the look in Zelgadis's eyes. "And... I'll just put this in a bag for you," he finished briskly, with a large, bright smile across his face.
Zelgadis nodded, and waited for the tailor to get the mask down, wrap it in tissue paper, and put it in a white bag with, of all things, a golden fish on the front, which was the shop's insignia. Zelgadis took the bag from the tailor, who promptly asked, "You also wanted a costume, sir? I'm sure you'd like something black to contrast with your mask. It would make a very dramatic effect, if I do say so myself. And with your... um... appearance and countenance, I think black would suit you very well indeed!"
"Black, huh?" Zelgadis mused. He'd never really liked wearing dark colors, but, then again, this was a chance to be someone completely new.
"And perhaps a bit of red to line the cape," the tailor suggested, knowing he was very close to convincing his customer of what would most likely be a very expensive purchase.
Zelgadis could imagine what the costume the tailor had in mind would look like, and decided he rather liked that idea. "All right," Zelgadis said, much to the glee of the tailor. "I'll try it out."
Several hours later, Zelgadis stood fully clad in his costume. It was well worth the wait. The heavy material used for the black was surprisingly comfortable, and the small accents of red silk set it off just right. The magic of the costume lay in the cape. The long sleeved shirt, long pants, and white gloves were merely to finish off the costume. But the three-quarter length cape, lined with rich red silk, crimson against the pitch black of the rest of the cape, truly brought it all together, and made the costume a magnificent piece of work.
"Well?" the tailor piped after fluttering about for several minutes, eager for Zelgadis's comments on the costume. "Do you like it?"
Taking another look in the full length mirror before him, Zelgadis nodded. "Yes, I do."
The tailor squealed with glee, his hands quivering up by his face. "Oh, I just knew you would! It suits you, it truly does!"
After smoothing down the shirt, Zelgadis looked down at the tailor, and asked, "How much are you expecting for it?"
The answer that came back to Zelgadis was shocking, but not entirely surprising. But even after emptying his money bag considerably, Zelgadis thought it was worth it.
It wasn't until after Zelgadis was out of the tailor shop, his normal clothes back on, and his costume and mask in their bags, that Zelgadis realized Amelia didn't like black. How could you have forgotten something like that, you idiot? he berated himself. Though Zelgadis deeply wished he'd remembered that earlier, there was no changing it now. With a heavy sigh, Zelgadis went to find an inn where he could eat and wash up before the mask.
***
A sharp knock on the door snapped her out of her half-doze. She'd just been staring at the ceiling, and must have fallen asleep. Sort of. Blinking to refocus her vision and reorient herself with where she was, Amelia sat up in bed, and faced the door, confused. The knock came again, a little louder this time. "Oh..." she said to herself slowly, as if just realizing that there was someone at the door. "Come in," she said louder.
The door opened, and the huge form for Prince Phil stepped into the room, closing the door gently behind him. "Good evening, Amelia," Phil said, his worried face smiling down at his daughter.
"It's evening already?" Amelia asked, looking at her window. She couldn't tell how late it was though, because she'd had the servants close the shutters. Oh yeah, Amelia thought, remembering telling someone to close them. The sun had been too cheerful. She didn't like it.
Phil stepped further into the room, and said, "Yes, it is."
"Oh," was all Amelia said in response.
For a moment, the two of them waited in silence. Then, in one quick movement, Phil sat himself on the bed next to Amelia, and began talking in a very concerned, fatherly voice. "Amelia, you haven't been yourself lately. I'm worried about you. You lock yourself up here in your room everyday. You never come down, you barely sleep or eat... You order your shutters closed... You barely even talk anymore."
"Oh," was Amelia's answer again.
"As a father, I can't help but be worried," Phil explained gently, taking up Amelia's hands in his own. "This all started just after her left, didn't it?" When Amelia looked at the floor, Phil knew he was right. "Amelia, you've got to try to get over him. You've lost your life, your spark."
Amelia just stared at the floor between her feet. Of course it had started when he had left. How could she not be depressed after he left? They'd argued constantly the final few days before he left, and when they weren't arguing, they barely talked to each other in their frustration. When she'd woken up and found him gone, with nothing but a letter left behind, she'd been in tears for days. Finally, she'd gotten tired of crying, but ever so slowly began to sink into a depression, out of which she doubted she'd ever come.
His leaving had almost literally been the death of her. But she still couldn't understand how he could do that to her. She loved him, but all he wanted to do was be away from her. Did he really dislike her that much? Or was he really just after his cure? But she'd told him countless times that she didn't care about his cure, and that he was cool the way he was. Still... Still, he left. And all he left behind was a short letter, which Amelia had read over and over and over, and inevitably had committed to memory. It read, "Amelia, Despite everything you said, I still have to go find my cure. I don't like to leave in anger like this, but I don't have a choice. But I promise you, when I find my cure, I'll come back."
That was all. No signature or anything. But she knew it was from him. It couldn't have been from anyone else. But now that letter was worn out from being crumpled, thrown, cried on, and slept with. Sometimes Amelia had stayed up late, praying to Ciepheed that he would return.
But he never did.
And now, three years later, Amelia had lost all hope that he'd ever come back. And with that hope gone, so too was her spark, her bright personality, gone. She hadn't the heart to speak with anyone, for fear that she might spill out her feelings about him, and break down in tears once more.
"Amelia," Phil said, interrupting Amelia's thoughts. "I wanted to get you out of your room. I want you to socialize again. I want to try to bring back your spark. Try to help you to forget him, and get on with your life." He squeezed her hands carefully. "You're too young to give up the rest of your life because of a heartbreak. It will pass, daughter."
Amelia felt tears burning at the corners of her eyes. How could it pass? It had been three years, and still the pain of him leaving burned deeply in her chest. She'd tried to forget. Ciepheed knows how she tried to forget his leaving after she'd given up hope that he'd never return. But she couldn't make herself forget him. He'd saved her life more than once, and she his in return. On those very rare occasions that he'd smiled at her, it made her weak in the knees. Late at night, she'd almost hear his voice calling to her, speaking her name. And the feeling of his arms around him those precious few times... No, she could never forget him, no matter how hard she tried. And so she could never move on. She was still living in the past, dreaming of what had been and what might be.
"...so I decided to throw a party for you," Phil said. Amelia realized that she'd not been listening. But when Phil said "party" her head jerked up.
"A party?" she asked, no emotion or inflection in her voice. Just a question, almost a statement. That seemed all she was capable of anymore. Without love, after all, a heart is empty. And with an empty heart, there can be no emotion, no spark, no energy.
"Yes," Phil said, overly energetic that he'd finally elicited a response from his daughter. "A masked ball! Tonight, in fact! We'll get you dressed up and downstairs, and you'll have a wonderful time and enjoy yourself."
Amelia looked at her father strangely. "I will?" she asked, knowing full well that there was very little chance of that happening.
"Of course you will!" Phil nearly shouted. "There's a whole world waiting for you, Amelia," he said, much more gently. "Don't waste it all away."
Slowly, Amelia nodded, and said, "I won't," though she didn't mean a word of it.
Phil beamed, though, with delight that his daughter would finally be getting out and about. He stood up, and said, "I'll send your maids in to help you get ready." Then, before he left, he gave his daughter a quick, tight hug, and walked out the door.
Amelia sighed, and looked at the floor again. A party? Enjoy herself? How long had it been since she'd had any fun? Probably the trip back here, to Seyruun, after defeating Dark Star, Amelia thought, answering her own question. But then she changed her mind. She'd had fun while... while he was in the palace as well. Oh, give over. You can at least think his name, even if you won't speak it, she chastised herself.
But, yes, while Zelgadis was staying, they'd had good times. Amelia would tease him while he was poring over books in the library, or just in the halls. He'd always been a reasonably good sport about her teasing and joking... Until he'd decided to leave.
Like always, Amelia's thoughts took a turn for the worst as she went back to remembering the week or so just before Zelgadis left. Her eyes stung with tears again, but Amelia fought them back. No more crying. She'd try to do what her father asked, and enjoy herself at the mask, though she seriously doubted she would. But she'd be a good girl, and go to the party and look nice, to help cheer her father up. He was the last person around her than cared about her anymore.
Again, a knock startled Amelia, and her maids walked in, carrying dresses and other beautifying supplies. Holding back a sigh, Amelia stood up, and let the maids get her ready for the mask.
For perhaps the hundredth time that night, Amelia sighed. She was sitting in her regal throne beside her father, dressed in a pale blue gown with thin sleeves and a semitransparent white over shirt that buttoned once in the front. She wore pearl earrings and a necklace, along with white slippers. It was the most uncomfortable thing she'd worn in years.
But the dress was nothing compared to the party. It had as much life in it as a graveyard. True, people were prancing around in ridiculously ostentatious costumes and masks, but there was nothing that really caught her interest. One couple danced wildly to the fast-paced music, adorned in matching pinks and purples, with enormous feather plumes sticking out the top of the masks. Another pair contrasted horribly. One wore purples and sequins, with a fish motif, and the other wore bright orange, nearly every inch of his mask and suit covered in wild orange feathers.
Amelia felt like berating the people for thinking the ball a foolish Halloween party. She'd flat out refused to wear a mask, mostly because she didn't want to look like one of those foolish peacocks swirling around on the dance floor.
Then again, she'd done absolutely no dancing. She hadn't the heart to. Besides, she had to wish to be seen dancing with a flamingo or a toucan, which is exactly what most of the people on the dance floor looked like.
Letting out yet another sigh, Amelia let her eyes roam along the people milling around the refreshment table or the walls. Most of them were probably too shy or didn't know how to dance. Others must have been too gaudy even for the peacocks on the dancing floor. There is, Amelia thought. A limit as to how far one can go.
Just as Amelia was thinking this, something stood out in the corner of her eye. She turned her head, prepared to see another flashy gown or mask that had moved too suddenly and startled a reaction out of her. Instead, she found herself facing someone most unusual.
This someone was a man, dressed from head to toe in black, trimmed in bright scarlet silk. Everything was of a simple cut and design, but obviously high quality fabric and tailoring. He also wore a simple white mask, unadorned by any fooleries, such as with the others' masks. No wonder he had caught her eye so.
Amelia found herself wondering who he was. Certainly he wasn't one of the regular citizens in Seyruun, or he'd have dressed up as well. And even if he didn't dress up, he most certainly wouldn't have worn black. Maybe that's why people are skirting around him and avoiding him? Amelia wondered idly. Amelia shrugged, and turned to look at the other... erm... interesting people at the mask, but kept finding herself seeking out the man in black again, like he was a magnet for her eyes.
He wasn't dancing at all, Amelia noticed. Just leaning against the wall, nearly directly across from her, and looking straight forward. Straight... at her? With a start, Amelia realized she was indeed what the man in black was looking at, and kept looking at. Amelia didn't let on that she knew he was looking at her. As she watched him watch her, she began wondering if he knew how to dance...
***
Zelgadis tried to ignore the stupidly foolish Seyruunians dancing around in front of him, and just focused on Amelia. That's what he was there for.
Despite three years having passed by, Amelia looked nearly the same. Her hair was still raven black, and her eyes were still blue. But they'd lost their sparkle that they used to carry. And she no longer wore her traditional smile that she'd rarely been seen without while they'd been traveling.
It must have been true, then, that Amelia had been so depressed. Zelgadis knew that it was no doubt hid fault. His leaving had been the cause of Amelia's depression. And now, though she looked the same on the outside, she didn't contain that glow that she used to. As much as Zelgadis hated to admit it, Amelia was different. And he was to blame.
But she was still Amelia. And just being near her again only escalated the feelings Zelgadis had already come to know and recognize. He only wished he dared to talk to her again, to try to make her smile again. He knew that, if anything could bring Amelia out of her depression, his return could.
But he could not let Amelia see him still as a chimera. For all he knew, she would only sink deeper into depression at seeing that.
Suddenly, Zelgadis jerked up straight from the wall he was leaning against. Amelia was looking right at him. Did she recognize him? No, he decided. No, she didn't recognize him. She was looking at him curiously, as a stranger. With that shock over, Zelgadis leaned back against the wall, still not taking his eyes from Amelia. He also noticed that, though her eyes drifted, they always came back to him. No doubt because he stood out from the crowd. Either that, or because he wore black, and she thought him a criminal of justice. After a deeper look, Zelgadis decided that wasn't it. She was just... looking at him. There wasn't really any emotion to the look she gave him. Maybe a spark of interest, but nothing more.
Then, all of a sudden, Amelia stood up, and started to make her way through the crowd-- right towards him! The rest of the dancers started applauding that Amelia was finally getting into the mood of things. All Zelgadis wanted was to find a quick way out before Amelia got to him.
But it was too late. Before Zelgadis could take a single step, Amelia approached him. As she got closer, Zelgadis's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. The light in her eyes had completely gone out. They were so dull, Zelgadis actually had to wonder whether they really were blue or gray. She wore an expressionless face and she tilted her head to look up at him. And yet, despite that, she still managed to look beautiful and elegant.
"Excuse me," Amelia said in a somewhat interested, yet mostly flat, voice. "I was wondering if you would dance with me?"
All at once, Zelgadis's heart was back where it belong, and pounding. The thought of dancing with Amelia... Of holding her, being near her, talking with her... Before he could think rationally and say no, he replied, "Of course, Am-- Uh... Princess." Then, almost against his will, but not completely, Zelgadis's hands went around Amelia's waist, and he led her out onto the dance floor. Amelia's own hands rose to rest on his upper arm and shoulder.
"Why aren't you dressed up like the rest of the dancers?" Amelia asked curiously while they glided around the dance floor.
Zelgadis scoffed at the idea of him dressing up like some overdone peacock, and expressed his opinion to Amelia in those very same words. To Zelgadis's amazement, Amelia laughed, probably for the first time in years, to judge by her shocked expression after realizing what she'd just done.
"I haven't done that in a while," Amelia admitted.
Zelgadis couldn't say how glad he was that Amelia had laughed, because even for just that small moment, that sparkle in her eyes had come back. But then it had faded away again. If only he could tell her he was back, then maybe the spark would come back permanently. But he couldn't do that. Forget him breaking his promise, another realization came to him. If he let Amelia know he was back, then her heart would only break again when he had to leave once more. He didn't know if he himself could stand that again, let alone Amelia.
And so Zelgadis contented himself with dancing with Amelia.
***
Amelia felt in higher spirits that she had been in a very long time. Dancing with that stranger somehow made her feel elated and happy, though she didn't know why. One thing she did know-- this stranger was a very good dancer. Together, the two of them glided and spun around the dance floor, elegant and graceful together.
There was something strangely familiar about the stranger in black, though. Amelia couldn't put her finger on it, but she felt like she'd met him before. When she asked him just that, he'd caught his breath, before stammering that he'd never met her in his life.
There had been a point in time, not so long ago, that Amelia could smell a lie a mile away. Now, however, she couldn't tell whether he was lying or telling the truth, and therefor could only trust that he was honest.
As the two of them danced, Amelia wondered more than ever who this tall, dark stranger was. Her curiosity was grinding away at her. Finally, she could stand it no longer. "Who are you?" Amelia asked him. "What's your name?"
For a moment, the stranger said nothing. Then, "Isn't the point of a mask to hide your identity, not reveal it?"
"That's true," Amelia conceded. "But I want to know your name."
"I'd much rather just dance," the stranger said, with a tone in his voice that signified he didn't want to talk about his identity anymore either.
Very well. Amelia admitted defeat, and just let herself dance in her stranger's strong arms.
All too soon, the dance slowed to a stop. Then Phil stood up, and, to Amelia's horror, announced that the dance was over. No! She needed more time to dance with her stranger! Perhaps she could talk her father into extending the dance? Or even holding another one soon?
"Wait here," Amelia said to the man in black she was dancing with. "Please wait," she added, her voice more full of emotion than ever. She truly wanted him to wait. "I'll be right back." Then she turned and dashed off to talk to her father.
***
As much as Zelgadis wished he dared to, he could not stay. He couldn't risk Amelia finding him out. He hated lying to her, and dancing-- forgive the pun --around her questions. So, when she hurried off to speak with Phil, Zelgadis turned sharply, his cape billowing out behind him, and strode steadily out of the palace.
Zelgadis walked down the dark, empty streets until he got to his inn. He decided to sleep for the night, and leave again in the morning, no matter how much he wished he didn't have to. He'd thought seeing Amelia again would satisfy him and let him go on and find his cure, but it only left him wanting more. He wanted to see her again, and talk with her more, even though she knew he couldn't. He had to find his cure. Then he would come back again.
***
Amelia ran excitedly back to where she'd left her stranger in black, but when she got there, he was gone. She stopped shortly, and looked around for the black cape that meant the stranger was still there. But she didn't see it.
Sadly, Amelia's shoulders slumped, and she let the small white envelope in her hand flutter to the floor. She stared at the invitation for a moment, before picking it up again, and slowly walking up to her bedroom.
Once back in her flannel pajamas again, Amelia lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling. How she wished she could have spent more time with that stranger in black. Much to her surprise, she'd enjoyed herself, just as her father had said she would. She hadn't expected that. And it was all due to that man she'd danced with. He was different. He caught her interest, and held it. She wondered what it was about him that made her take such an interest in him...
Can you so easily forget about Zelgadis-san? a bitter voice in the back of her mind asked. A new stranger shows up, and you become besotted with him, forgetting about Zelgadis-san?
"No," Amelia whispered quietly. She could never forget Zelgadis. Never. No matter how much she wanted to or tried, she could never forget.
Suddenly, something dawned on Amelia. That stranger... He reminded her of Zelgadis. That's why she was so interested in him. Something about him seemed very familiar, and she couldn't help but be reminded of Zelgadis.
Sighing, Amelia rolled over onto her side, tucking in her legs, and pulling her blanket up over her shoulders. She felt tears burn her eyes as she let herself think about Zelgadis again. Oh, how she wished she could forget him. But she couldn't.
Looking over at the opened window, Amelia did something she hadn't done in over a year. She found the brightest star in the sky, and tearfully whispered, "Ciepheed... Please bring him back?" She sniffled, and turned her face into her pillow. As the tears flowed, Amelia whispered, her voice muffled from the pillow, "I miss him..."
***
As the sun arose, Zelgadis woke up. He threw off his blankets, quickly changed into his traveling clothes, grabbed his things, and went downstairs. He had to leave the city before his determination vanished, and he couldn't force himself to leave again.
Zelgadis approached the counter, and held out his key to the innkeeper.
The portly innkeeper stared at the key, and turned a quizzical look up to Zelgadis. "You're leaving?" he asked in disbelief.
"Yes," Zelgadis said, irately. "That is my intention."
"Just before the mask?" the other man asked with wide eyes.
Zelgadis arched an eyebrow. "The mask was last night," he said, honestly wondering about the innkeeper.
"Ah, the first one, yes," the man behind the counter said. "The princess enjoyed herself so much that she wanted her father to hold another one. Prince Phil was so glad his daughter was having fun that he couldn't have announced it faster. Didn't you see the flyer?"
Hiding is elation at having another opportunity to visit Amelia, Zelgadis told the innkeeper, "I just woke up." He stuffed his key back in his pocket as the innkeeper tottered off somewhere.
He had another chance to visit Amelia! And this time, maybe they would be able to talk longer. Dance longer. Zelgadis ran up the stairs to his room, tossed his stuff back on his bed, and leaned against the door, closing his eyes in thanks that he had one more chance to see Amelia before he left.
And it'd be in mask and costume, so she still wouldn't know he'd not fulfilled his promise.
Speaking of which... Zelgadis stood up, and took out the outfit he'd worn the other night. He shouldn't wear the same thing two nights in a row. Maybe he could go back to that tailor and just get him to fix it up? It'd be cheaper than buying a whole new costume. He'd keep the mask, of course, since he wouldn't lower himself so far as to wear one of those feathered masks.
Gathering up the outfit in his arms, Zelgadis heading downstairs once more, and out of the inn. He found the small tailor's relatively quickly, and stepped inside. At once he was greeted by the tiny tailor. "Ah! You're back! You heard about the mask tonight, yes? And you want me to fix up your outfit for tonight? Of course! Not a problem. You just wait right there while I get my tools!"
Before Zelgadis could get in a word edgewise, the tailor had disappeared behind his counter, rummaging around for his sewing tools. All Zelgadis could do in that situation was shrug, and do as the tailor asked.
Several long, uneventful hours later, the tailor ordered Zelgadis to try on the costume. Zelgadis was pleased with the turnout. Instead of red accenting the black, this time it was a rich blue. Not only was the cape lined with the blue silk, there was also thin trimming along the cuffs and collar, and a black belt with a blue buckle.
"Well? Do you like it?" the tailor piped, still full of breath even after talking every second of his work.
Zelgadis nodded. "Just as good as the first," he said admirably. Despite being dreadfully annoying and short, the tailor did his craft well. "How much will this one cost me?"
"Since it's just a touch up," the tailor started. He then announced the price, which was about a quarter of the price of the full outfit. Zelgadis handed over the gold, grateful that he'd decided on that instead of buying a new costume.
"Oh, I do hope you enjoy yourself tonight, sir," squeaked the tailor. "Just imagine! Two masks in two days! Ooh!" The tailor twittered and clapped his hands together like a child. "I must go tend to other business now. Good day to you sir." Then he disappeared behind his counter again.
Zelgadis nodded, and thought to himself, I think I'll enjoy myself tonight.
***
Amelia sat up in her throne, craning her neck to search the crowd for her stranger in black. Of course, she had no reassurances that he would be wearing black again, but she desperately hoped he would, for she had no other way of recognizing him if he didn't. She herself was dressed in a long, straight, pale pink dress with a square collar and small beads along the bodice. She once again chose not to wear a mask.
Suddenly, Amelia started. She almost stood up, and hoped that she was right. She was! The man in black had just walked through the door. Barely able to contain her excitement, Amelia stood up quickly, and maintained enough dignity to walk, rather than run, down the stairs to the dance floor, and over to the man in black.
When she finally reached him, she smiled up at him. He held out his hand, and asked, "Shall we?"
More than gladly, Amelia placed her own hand in his. He spun her around once, before the two of them fell into the steady beat of the dance.
After several dances, the question blurted out before Amelia could stop it. "Will you please take of your mask?"
The man in black faltered in his dancing, but recovered quickly. "I'd rather not," he told her.
"Please?" Amelia begged, desperately wanting to know who this man was that he could remind her of Zelgadis so much.
In response, the stranger in black just shook his head.
"Then, I beg of you, tell me your name," Amelia said, clinging onto any small chance of finding out more about him.
"I can't do that," the stranger said tonelessly.
Giving up, Amelia had to content herself with dancing with the tall stranger, and wishing she could see his face or know his name. She wanted so much to know why he reminded her so of Zelgadis.
***
The two of them danced together for the rest of the night. Just before the last dance started, Zelgadis and Amelia went over to the refreshment table to get a drink. He served up punch for the both of them, and they sat down together at a small table.
"Why won't you tell me your name?" Amelia asked abruptly.
Zelgadis nearly choked on his punch. He coughed a little, and set down his glass, saying, "I just don't want to."
"Well, why not?"
"I just... don't," Zelgadis said lamely, not knowing any other excuse to give her.
"Well, then, take off your mask," Amelia told him.
"No."
"Take it off," Amelia said, more firmly.
Zelgadis looked her straight in the eyes, and said, "No."
Frowning, Amelia reached over as if to take his mask off herself. Zelgadis backed up a little. If she took off his mask and saw his face--! Zelgadis slapped her hand away, instantly regretting that action as soon as he did.
"I'm sorry--" he started as Amelia drew her hand back sharply. "I didn't--" Oh, Gods, he'd hurt her. Again. He had to leave soon, or it'd happen again.
"It's all right," Amelia said, looking at the floor. Slowly, she met his gaze again, and asked, "Can't we just dance?"
With a sigh of relief, Zelgadis stood up, and, taking her hand, led her out onto the dance floor once again. Together, the two of the danced to the last dance of the night. The music was soft, slow, relaxing. He felt Amelia loosen in his grip, and relax against him, her cheek against his chest. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Zelgadis moved his hands to her back, and held her tightly as they danced, wishing more than ever before that he didn't have to leave.
But as soon as the last dance ended, Zelgadis quickly released Amelia, and started to turn towards the door. He had to get out quickly, or he'd never be able to make himself go. But he couldn't leave, because Amelia caught a handful of his shirt.
"Why are you leaving so fast?" she asked him.
"I have to go," was all Zelgadis said. He quickly pulled Amelia's hand off his shirt, and walked swiftly out the door. He had to get out. Now. If he didn't, he never would. And if he turned back, he'd lose his will to leave. So he kept walking at a steady pace, not daring to let himself look back.
***
Amelia watched forlornly as the man in black strode out of the dance hall. He was leaving. Just as Zelgadis had done several years before. Tears stung her eyes again. He was so much like Zelgadis...
Suddenly, Amelia's eyes turned from sadness into determination, and the prickling tears went away. She wouldn't let him leave without finding out who he was. She'd follow him.
And that's just what she did. She half-ran out of the dance hall, down the long corridor, and out into the night. The stars and moon were hidden by thick, heavy clouds, and there were very few lights out. It'd be nearly impossible to find someone dressed in black on a night like that!
But something caught her eye. It was light shining on the blue silk on the man's cape! Quickly, Amelia dashed down the stairs, and ran towards the dark silhouette she saw ahead of her. "Wait!" she called. "Stop!"
The man in black stopped dead in his tracks.
***
I can't turn around, I can't turn around, I can't turn around, Zelgadis told himself over and over, knowing that if he did, he'd never leave the city. Not to mention he didn't have his mask on anymore. Though it was dark, there was a chance Amelia would recognize him.
"Please, don't leave," he heard Amelia say behind him. The pleading in her voice was too much. He couldn't stand it. He turned around, very slowly.
***
Amelia's breath caught when the stranger turned around. While she sat in a very small patch of light from a torch on a building near her, the stranger stood in the dark shadows of the night. She could tell he didn't have his mask on, but she could see nothing of his face.
"Please, don't go," Amelia begged. "I don't know if I could bear it. You remind me so much..." She cut herself off when her throat started choking up again. "You remind me of an old friend. You seem so much like him." She stopped again. "He left, too." Tears sprung up in her eyes. "Please, don't you leave me too."
For a long moment, the man in black was silent. Then, "Who was this friend of yours who left?" His voice was hesitant, almost unsure about asking.
"He was a very dear friend of mine. I... I cared for him," Amelia said slowly. She swallowed, and went on. "He... He went off to find his cure, because he had been turned into a chimera by his grandfather. I..." She stopped again, this time to reconsider her words. "We got in an argument about his leaving. I didn't want him to. But... he left anyway, in the middle of the night." She held back a sob, which suddenly turned into a strange laugh. "I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. You just remind me so much like him. I couldn't stand it if you left. It'd be too much like his leaving again." Amelia looked up at the stranger, tears in her eyes and on her face. "Please," she said quietly, almost a whisper.
***
Zelgadis saw the pain, the despair in Amelia's eyes. The pain he'd caused her. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't just let Amelia cry like that. Quietly, he said to her, "I won't leave."
The pure joy on Amelia's face when he said those words nearly broke his heart. Was she really that desperate for him to return that she'd take a poor substitute of someone who just looked like him?
"Please," Amelia begged. "Please, step into the light. Let me see your face."
Zelgadis took a deep, ragged breath, and let it out slowly. How could he not appease her? He couldn't cause her more pain than he already had. And seeing him would hopefully bring back that spark of life she'd lost. Slowly, very slowly, Zelgadis stepped forward. His steps were slow, steady. He entered the small pool of light, and waited for Amelia's reaction.
***
At first Amelia thought she was dreaming. It couldn't possibly be him! It couldn't! But even after blinking several times, the person before her did not change. It was no trick of the light, or a hallucination. It was-- "Zelgadis-san!" Amelia cried, running up to him, and hugging him tightly. She held him tighter when she felt his arms go around her. Sobbing against his shirt, Amelia asked, "Why did you come back, Zelgadis-san? Why were you away so long? Why didn't you tell me you were back? I'd lost all hope you'd ever return. It's been so long." Then she could say no more, and just cried tears of joy, holding onto Zelgadis like she'd never let go.
She heard Zelgadis take a deep breath, and he answered, "I didn't want to come back because I'd written in that letter that I wouldn't return until I'd found my cure. And I never found it, so I couldn't come back. But... I couldn't not come back. I had to see you again."
"You never wrote to me," Amelia choked out.
"I thought it'd only cause you more pain," Zelgadis managed to tell her.
Stepping back, and looking up at Zelgadis, Amelia said truthfully, "The only time you ever hurt me was in leaving. Hearing from you, even knowing I wouldn't see you, would have been better than nothing at all."
All Zelgadis could say to that was, "I'm sorry."
Amelia wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and said, "I understand. But I've never anted anything in my life more than I wanted you back. I don't care at all about your cure. And... I've never wanted to do this to anyone before in my life, but..." On the tail of her words, Amelia stood on tiptoe, and kissed Zelgadis deeply.
To her pure ecstasy, Zelgadis kissed her back, holding her almost tight enough to crush her. But she didn't care. She was with the person she loved. And she'd make sure he never left her again.