"Amelia…you're seventeen now. It's past time."

"Daddy…"

"No, I'm serious. The royal line of Seyruun must continue. Now, don't be like that…you can have anyone you want. We'll scour the lands if that's what you like…but you must choose. Soon." Prince Philionel shut the door gently behind him, leaving Amelia to consider his words.

Alone, Amelia fingered the hem of her tunic and stared at something in the distance. In her mind's eye she watched a boy walking away from her, not looking back because looking back would have given her hope. He had not wanted her to have hope, for he had none himself. It was his way of being kind. Because she knew this, she did not hate him. She couldn't have hated him anyway. But none of that mattered.

"What you don't understand, father," she said softly to her hem, "…is that I have already chosen. And he said 'no.'"

…………………………………………………….

Over the next few weeks Amelia was kept very busy. She was the serene and emotionless eye in a hurricane of seamstresses and handmaidens, all bent on taking her measurements and showing her swatches of fabric. The clothes they prepared for her were more adult than what she favored, but it couldn't be helped. She was meant to take these with her when she left for the kingdom of her husband, whoever he would turn out to be. Her father was sparing no expense…she knew that he wanted her to be happy and well taken care of wherever she went. She felt vaguely sorry for him, spending so much money to no purpose. But she let him do it all the same; it was one way of punishing him.

Besides the female attendants, Amelia was constantly plagued by valets and messengers who had bribed their way into her chambers in order to drop off a letter of supplication or a costly present from one of her many noble admirers. A princess of Seyrunn would be the ultimate trophy for any young lord's mantle, and they all desired the prestige such a match would bring. Perhaps some of them actually liked her. Maybe one of them would be sweet enough and genuine enough that she could live with him, even grow to love him in time. It was possible. No…no, it was not possible.

There came a time when all the dresses were completed and Amelia's bedroom was filled to capacity with tokens from different suitors. Prince Philionel was becoming more and more impatient. Amelia would pace back and forth in her room, wearing one of her new gowns, pretending to be someone else: the person everyone wanted her to be. Eventually, she would tear off the gown and throw it in a corner. One night, she realized that she was standing in the middle of a mound of broken necklaces and music boxes, her hands scratched and shaking. She had gone through and smashed them, all of the pretty things her suitors had given her. That was the night that Amelia dug out her traveling clothes and used the Ray Wing to speed her silently out of the gilded cage of Seyruun.

Zelgadis had been traveling, here and there, for some time now. While it had been months since he'd seen Lina or Gourry, he had briefly seen the new king and queen of Xoana riding together through their rebuilt city. Martina had gracelessly fallen from her horse, as Zelgadis had expected, but the tender way that Zangulus had lifted her back into her saddle had stopped the laughter dead in his throat. They were truly happy. It turned his thoughts black to remember them like that, and for that same reason he had not bothered to seek the others out. If Lina and Gourry were not already together he was sure that they would be soon…and why not? Nothing was stopping them. Nothing was stopping them.

His hand hurt. He looked down to see that it was clenched tightly into a fist. It wasn't fair. He couldn't even kiss a woman, much less make one his wife. Of course, she had said that she hadn't cared about any of that. But she saw less clearly than him, he knew. She was too innocent and trusting. She couldn't see the years stretching before them, devoid of warmth and intimacy, until she either became so cold and dried up that she felt nothing or she fell under the spell of some other man who could give her…no. He didn't want to think about it. He shouldn't think about her at all…there was no purpose to it. He had become convinced over the years that there was no way to become a normal man again. Time and time again he was disappointed in his search. Manuscripts of the Claire Bible proved to be faulty or incomplete, and his few opportunities to examine the actual bible had dried up long ago. He had never heard of another book of spells equal to the Claire Bible, and since the curse placed on his skin had not ended with the life of the man who had cursed him, he was doomed.

Zelgadis looked down at his hands again, this time not with curiosity but with hatred. The skin, if you could call it that, was blue-grey and hard as stone, studded at irregular intervals with darker shards of rock. He was a monster, a chimera; not a man but an unholy combination of demon, man and golem. Suddenly, unwillingly, he remembered the way she had bled when she had tried to stroke his cheek. It made him think of that day.

He stopped in the middle of the path and veered towards the line of trees. Finding a strong one, he leaned against it and pulled out his canteen. She had given him her wristband…how long ago? It was before the last time they had parted. The blue gem on the band winked like one of her eyes. He cursed softly and replaced the canteen without drinking.

Where was he going now? All roads led to the same destination.

It was several months ago, when they had finished their latest adventure and were ready to scatter again. Gourry and Lina thought that they might head back to the Lake Dragon village. Perhaps some of the immortal dragon meat that they had all (Zelgadis especially) worked so hard to catch was still to be found there. Lina had not yet entirely given up on her "dragon feast." From there, trouble was sure to find them…it always did. No doubt they would all meet up again sooner or later and save the world from some horrible threat. Zelgadis and Amelia had bid them goodbye from the gates of Seyruun, then turned to face each other awkwardly.

"What do you want to do now, Mr. Zelgadis?" Amelia had asked. She always called him "Mr. Zelgadis," even when everyone else had long since taken to calling him "Zel." He was never quite sure if he liked or hated the respect she always gave his name.

"I don't know. I have too many bad memories of the village to care for a visit, myself."

Amelia laughed. "But you made such a charming anchor!" Her laughter was quickly cut short by the poisonous glance Zelgadis shot her. "Oh, all right. I said I was sorry about all of that anyway. What do you want from me?"

He lightened. It was fun to make her sulk, as he had long ago realized. "Well, we never got the opportunity to fully explore Seyruun's magical texts. You once invited me to stay here…do you think it would be worth my while to not leave just yet?" He raised his glance to hers again, keeping his expression serious.

She was instantly lifted, as he knew she would be. "Of course! We'll start looking right now! I just know we can find what you need here, Mr. Zelgadis!"

And they had searched.

He had quickly lost hope after the first week. Although Amelia hadn't seemed to realize it, there really were only a few spots he was even halfway serious about. After these were exhausted, he knew that Seyruun did not hold what he sought. Still, he played at searching with Amelia for awhile longer, to keep her happy. He knew that she did not want him to go. Her father had started to intimate that it was time she go about choosing a husband…and he could see that she was not ready. While he was in Seyruun, he could be her distraction—her shield—for awhile longer. But sooner or later, he would have to leave, and then he guessed that she would marry someone and become a queen. For some reason he didn't like to think about that; he supposed that he must feel sorry for her. She still had so much traveling to do…so many adventures ahead of her. It didn't seem fair.

There came a night when it was so hot and sultry that Zelgadis could not sleep. When he ventured outside for a late night walk he found that this was the case almost everywhere…he thought he glimpsed Prince Phil out on one of the palatial lawns playing some sort of ball game with his brother Christopher and some courtiers. He did not see Amelia with them. He wondered why he felt so disappointed. He walked further out until the lights of the palace behind him were no brighter than the stars ahead, then stopped suddenly.

"Who's following me?" he whispered.

"Mr. Zelgadis."

"Amelia. You couldn't sleep either?"

"No…well…I wanted to talk, really. Can I walk with you?"

"Of course."

They walked in silence for awhile. He became impatient—she had wanted to talk, hadn't she?—but held his peace and waited for her to break the silence. Suddenly, she sat down, right there in the grass. His brow wrinkled as he moved to sit beside her. Amelia wasn't usually so quiet. What was wrong?

He was about to go ahead and ask when she started talking. It all came out in a rush: "My father says that I have to marry someone soon…but I don't want to, I don't want to--!! What do I do?" He heard her rustle next to him; was she crying?

It was all so awkward. What should he say? What could he say to her? In her own way, she was set apart from a normal life just as he was. He reached out, found her shoulder, wrapped his arm around it. "I don't know, Amelia. I'm sorry. Why don't you run away? I could help you run away. You've done it before, anyhow. Why is this different?"

"Because…there is one man I want to marry. But I know my father wouldn't allow it."

Zelgadis turned cold inside, but he brushed it off. He fought to keep the weight of his arm on her shoulder the same, to not show any outward emotion. Even so, his throat was dry when he spoke again. "That's stupid. You should marry him anyway, if you love him."

"Do you think so, Mr. Zelgadis?"

His voice was hollow. "Of course. I can't believe you would even ask me, Amelia. You're a brave girl. Follow your heart." He let his arm slip from her shoulders and turned his face away. "So. When do I get to meet him? I'm intrigued." Inwardly, he wondered: when? When did this happen? Perhaps she had known this man all of her life; after all, she had an entirely separate life as a princess of Seyruun. He had known her for less than four years—

Amelia's voice interrupted the red wire tangle of his thoughts: "Mr. Zelgadis…I want you. Don't you know that? I was talking about you..." Her voice died out. She was embarrassed, and afraid. She had hoped that perhaps he would have guessed it by now. She tried to speak again, to find something better to say, but her voice faltered. In the end, she could only wait for his reply.

Zelgadis blinked, an almost audible sound in the silence. He shook his head, then blinked again. "…me?"

She replied, in an equally small voice, "…yes."

"Amelia."

"I'm sorry, I was wrong, wasn't I? I'm sorry, don't say anything, I'll go—" she rose quickly to run but he caught her arm.

"Stay."

………………..

For the next few days they willfully ignored the obvious.

Somehow, they would go off together, run away, the sorcerer and sorceress. They might be fugitives from Seyruun, true, and perhaps Phil would sometimes send people to find Amelia. But they could handle that, they could handle anything. Amelia went about the castle singing when she wasn't with Zelgadis, and when she was with Zelgadis she was laughing, or very, very quiet.

She privately began to say goodbye to all the things in Seyruun she would miss, making sure to be even more loving to her father and uncle than usual. She contemplated what she should take with her on her upcoming journey, and when they should leave. Zelgadis began to buy supplies and even, secretly, to look around for something pretty that might look nice on her. Their happiness lasted for six days.

On the seventh day, they were sitting together at one of the outdoor cafes near the city's center, watching people walk by on the street. They laughed and whispered all sorts of imagined futures and pasts for each interesting person they saw. That old woman there—she had once been the most sought-after prostitute in the South District! This young man was actually a prince in disguise, come to reclaim a lost kingdom… Then, a pair of lovers walked by. What happened then lasted a few seconds only—not much time to undo the plans of a lifetime—but it was enough. The woman reached up and deliberately tousled the man's hair. Laughing, he revenged himself upon her by leaning down and kissing her in front of a gaggle of disapproving Shrine Maidens. They walked through the angry squawks of the ladies, past Zelgadis and Amelia, and were gone down the street, aware only of each other.

Zelgadis immediately glanced at Amelia, to see if she had seen. Her expression was dreamy; he knew that he must be picturing them there, acting as that man and woman had. The thought was like a knife across his heart. She could never put her hand up to touch his hair…not if she didn't want to draw it back again punctured and bleeding. He could never bend down to kiss her, with his lips of stone. If she touched his face—or any part of him—wrong, she would be hurt. Surely she must realize it. No, no, he could see that she hadn't thought of it yet.

"Amelia…"

"Yes? Zelgadis?" He flinched as from a blow. She was finally using his name.

"Did you see those two?"

Her face was resting on hands like folded doves. "Yes…it was beautiful. It made me think…"

"It made me think, too. Amelia, we can't be like them. Do you understand?"

She turned fully to look at him, then, her brow creased. "What do you mean?"

God, was she going to make him say it? It was too much. He couldn't tell her. He was defeated by something so simple it was cruel.

Finally, he compromised by taking her hand and putting it on his cheek. "What do you feel?"

She brightened; it was a game. "Why, my Zelgadis, of course!" She went to put her other hand to his cheek, but he stopped her.

"NO…no…you feel stone. Do you see? You touch it the wrong way, and…do you understand?" This was breaking him.

"No, I feel you. I told you I don't care how you look, I like it, I—" she stopped, suddenly, and drew her hand back. It was bleeding. "Zelgadis…"

He was suddenly standing and shouting. "DO YOU SEE NOW? DO YOU UNDERSTAND? God…" He sat down again. "We can't go away together. Don't you see? There's nothing. We can't do it. That's it."

She was clutching her bleeding hand to her, like a wounded dove. "No…we can still go away together. I don't care. Even if we," here she had to swallow before she could say it, "Even if we never kiss, or anything, it doesn't matter…I love you."

He had already taken her hand and started healing it before he realized what he was doing. "No, Amelia. I won't do that to you. I thought I would save you from something terrible: a life in the palace, forced to be something you are not. But going with me would be equally terrible. You don't see that now, but you will. I am not fit for you. You need a man, not a monster." Her hand was no longer bleeding. He got up.

"Zelgadis, no—"

"Goodbye, Amelia. Ray WING!"

And he was gone.

Amelia flew through the night, unsure of her purpose or destination. Would she try to find him? Or was she just running? She hadn't packed any food…stupid. She lifted her head, shielding her face from the force of the wind as it rushed by. The sun was beginning to rise over the mountains in the distance.

Mountains…

Why hadn't they gone back to the Kataart Mountains? It was true that the place had been damaged in their fight with Gaav, the Demon Dragon King, a year and a half before. But the Claire Bible was hidden in another dimension there, wasn't it? Why would that dimension be damaged? If it was in the sky now or beneath a lake, she could get to it! She had wings.

In the past she would have said that justice was on her side, and cheerfully barreled ahead through any obstacle. She wasn't sure what she believed now. Even if she got to the bible, perhaps it could not heal him. And if the knowledge within the bible could restore Zelgadis…well, it had been a long time. He might have found someone else.

She was surprised to find that she was crying. Well, no matter. Even if he is with someone else, she thought, if I can save him I will. And then I will go on. A life without my love is still better than life in a cage.

The mountain was many days'travel to the south. Amelia had difficulty finding food at first, and her magic became progressively weaker as a result. Finally, she came to a lake. She pondered how best to catch the fish…she could charm them into her hands, she supposed, but somehow that seemed like a betrayal. Besides, conserving her magical energy seemed like the best way to go. Finally, she dug in the small pocket in her belt for what lately had become her most precious possession; a long piece of silver wire. She turned it over in her hands again and again before finally twisting it into a hook. Later that evening, replete on a diet of cooked fish, she dried the strand of hair on her tunic and put it back into the pouch. "Thank you for supper," she murmured.

That night she dreamed of him. She woke up disappointed, but ready to go on. Fortunately, the evil reputation of the place remained intact and she came up against no opposition on her journey. It was safe, but very lonely. She almost wept with relief when the distinctive shape of Dragon's Peak finally began to show through the mist in the distance. At least now she would see the gentle dragons again, with their grave hospitality. She hoped that they would lead her to the book.

Several nights later, Zelgadis was sleeping in the forests southeast of Sairaag, huddled as near as he dared to his dying campfire. The nights were getting colder, so cold that even his stony flesh could feel it. Cold outside, and colder inside.

He was already deep in a troubled sleep when the shadow fell between him and the fire. He started to shiver, but soon he was engulfed in a blanket of flames and he was not cold any longer. The figure over him muttered the words of the spell with a steady voice as he squirmed and twisted in the blaze, not stopping even when his flesh cracked and ran like molten rock.

"Zelgadis?"

His eyes opened slowly. He knew that voice…

"Zelgadis. Are you all right?"

He opened them all the way. His vision was so blurry…what had happened?

"Please, tell me! I need to know…are you in pain?"

Pain? That was silly. Why would he be in pain? He was asleep. This must still be a dream. He blinked stupidly at the figure kneeling before him, then slowly smiled.

"Amelia."

"Yes, Amelia. Are you all right, Zelgadis?"

Still smiling, he sat up, went to touch her face. Then he saw his hand for the first time. "…what…"

"It's all right, isn't it? It's what you wanted?"

"How? My hands…am I…is this real?"

"Yes. You're a man. Just a man. It's real."

He looked at his hands awhile longer, then smiled sadly and shook his head. "No. No, it is a dream. I know now. You…my hands. It's a dream. But I don't care." He reached for her, took her face in his hands, kissed it.

She pulled back, surprised and a little frightened. "No, Zelgadis. It's not a dream! It's not a dream!"

He rested his face against hers, feeling it. "Amelia, don't wake me up, please. I don't want to wake up…stay with me until morning."

"But…" He was kissing her again, lowering her head down onto his rolled-up blanket. If I were Lina, she thought. If I were Lina, I would smash my fist into the top of his now-more-sensitive head, kick him off into the fire, and then tease him unmercifully about tonight for the rest of both of our lives. He was kissing her neck now, letting his hand slide across her stomach. Good thing I'm not Lina…

Zelgadis woke up, stretched, and yawned. Then he remembered the dream. If only it could be like that for us, he thought, hugging himself. Wait…my arms…they're different. Suddenly, he sprang up, staring at himself. He was whole, he was real, he was a man, and nothing more. "How?" he asked the forest. He started, spun on his heel at a soft groan behind him.

"Ow. You dropped me."

He fell into a sitting position. He rubbed his eyes. "…what? Amelia?"

"I said you dropped me. I was sleeping on you…then you shot up and…ow."

"Amelia?"

She finally looked straight at him. "Yes. Amelia."

"Then…"

"It wasn't a dream, Zelgadis." Amelia looked down, blushing and adjusting the blanket modestly. "But…I hated to stop you…I'm sorry if I did the wrong thing." She looked up, just in time to partially brace herself. "Hey…whoa…!"

Later, he asked her and she told him all about the dragons and the Claire Bible. She told him about the spell, just in case they should ever have to use it again. She said little about the broken ornaments and the wasted dresses. He didn't press her. He, for his part, told her about the long months traveling alone. His sighting of the happy King and Queen of Xoana made her smile. Finally, after they had dressed and eaten, Zelgadis took her hand in his and asked her where she wanted to go.

"Let's find them," she said quietly. "Do you mind?"

He smiled. "Not at all."