Started: January 9, 2005
Finished: February 5, 2005
He slid his gloves on with every intention to never remove them again.
Perhaps it was a bit extreme to use the word "never." He would need to remove the accessories when he had to bathe and when he went to bed, but those were situations in which removing them was absolutely necessary. There would also be other instances where wearing gloves would prove to be counterproductive - eating and shaking hands with dignitaries, for example. But gloved hands would allow him to concentrate on something other than what he may have to touch, and he was fond of the theory that deadening one sense would sharpen the other four senses.
He shifted his attention to the mirror, fingering his scarf and adjusting until it fell in a satisfactory way. Despite his calculative nature, not everything about him was purely for the sake of logic and tactics. Everything to your pace, not one hair out of place.
It was a vain mantra and he knew it.
There was always a certain amount of order in his life. A schedule, a plan, a goal or state of being that he had to attain. Order gave him purpose, and purpose gave him concentration. But, with order, he had to prepare for disorder. A backup plan, several reserves to tap into, something to fall back upon if unknown variables were to change his calculations (he had such confidence in his calculations that the only problems that could come up were, as far as he was concerned, variables he had no control over).
Albert Silverberg tilted his head as he heard the distinct sound of someone clearing his throat behind him, his gloved hands falling to his sides. "Hello, Yuber."
"You summoned, Silverberg?" the black knight murmured in that voice as cold and steady as a dirge. Off the battlefield, the tall demon could have been mistaken for a mortal if not for his intimidating presence and chilling voice. His armor, reminiscent of Mirages' armor, did not help matters.
"You know I did; there's no reason to ask, even if it is rhetorical," intoned the young man, turning from his mirror to look at his new "minion." He had only summoned the demon last night off the notes he had obtained from his grandfather's library, so he had not been given much time to properly speak with the infamous "mercenary." Emerald eyes flitted up and down Yuber, once again sizing him up. "I told you to find suitable clothing for blending in with mortals."
Yuber crossed his arms nonchalantly, his expression one of confidence and superiority. "I'll have them when it's necessary. Don't worry about the small details, maggot."
Albert frowned slightly, disliking the demon's tone. "It is my job to worry about the small details," he reminded the other man. There was a slight pause as he decided to test his limits, taking on a noticeably haughty tone. "And you will not take that tone when you are addressing me, demon."
There was a noticeable glint from underneath the fringe of hair that obscured Yuber's eyes, and the red-haired strategist caught a flash of white teeth before the world blurred and spiraled around him. Albert winced as his back struck the floor, and it took a moment for him to realize the demon had shoved him over in the space it took for him to take a single breath. An audible grunt escaped him as he was lifted up by the lapels of his coat, and he stared at Yuber coldly.
"You seem to forget that you were the one that asked for my help, maggot. I'll call you anything I want to," Yuber said in a deceptively sweet voice, driving one of his armguards against the mortal's throat above his scarf. Albert shivered as the cold alloy touched his skin, his gloved hands clenching into fists. "Don't go testing my patience."
So he could tell, the young Silverberg thought dryly, not reacting to Yuber's sudden invasion of his personal space. He straightened his clothing as the blonde released him, frowning. "Keep your hands to yourself," he said, his voice slipping back into a neutral intonation. "I summoned you for a reason."
Yuber did not step away, leaving the redhead to take a step back to ease his wariness. "And what reason is that, Silverberg? I was under the impression you wouldn't summon me until you had a 'use' for me." He flashed another feral grin that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, flicking his long hair back in such a way that the action displaced his bangs.
Despite the fact that he had seen those demonic eyes before, Albert still had to suppress a grimace. Up close, that blue eye looked as still and translucent as arctic ice, while the cat-slit crimson orb roiled like a growing storm. It was enough to stun a normal man. "Before you meet the other half of our group, I would like to tell you a few things you will be doing specifically for me." Yuber raised a brow, slightly interested. "As I'm sure you are aware, we will be orchestrating a war."
"I wouldn't expect any less," the demon droned, his gaze lazily wandering, "though I find it amusing that a Silverberg would do such a thing."
Albert's eyes remained on the blonde even though he did not directly meet his gaze. "According to our contract, you will get to play a role in the war if you see my orders through until the end. In addition-" Yuber's attention snapped back to the redhead "- I want you to restrain yourself in battle."
Those mismatched eyes narrowed dangerously. "That wasn't in the contract."
The young man was bitterly aware of that, but he could not leave the demon's true strength as a variable. If he was able to direct Yuber's actions throughout the war, he would be able to control which battles the demon would lose and all that that entailed. "Thus the words 'In addition,'" he said slowly, as if speaking to a small, dumb child.
Yuber made a sound suspiciously like a growl. "You ask for a lot, Silverberg. Maybe too much."
"You won't comply?" Albert inquired without missing a beat, his mind instantly racing with the possibilities. If he lost Yuber, he would be put a great disadvantage; their group would need to be at least three times the size to make up for the loss of Yuber's demonic strength, and there was no possible way to replace the power of another True Rune-
"… I demand compensation."
Albert had been practicing his poker face since he first began studying in Soledt, yet those three words from the demon were enough to make him falter. "Compensation? You are being paid in human lives-"
This time, Yuber did not bother with stunning Albert by pushing him down; he simply - and easily - lifted the redhead up by the front of his coat and captured his gaze. "And you would do well to listen to me lest I add you to that body count." He shoved the mortal away, smirking as the indignant Silverberg struggled to compose himself after being manhandled. "I want something for this additional service. You'll have to pay a high price for me to show restraint." He spat out the word with no small amount of disdain.
"High price?" … He can't be serious.
As much as he hated to admit it, the demon was invaluable in his strategies. Take away the unpredictability and Yuber would be the perfect queen in his game; strong, flexible, and ultimately dispensable at the end of everything - but not before the game had even started.
The king was the only piece necessary to win a game of chess; all the rest were, no matter their official names, essentially pawns.
"Yes. I'm sure a maggot of your … standing-" Albert's eyes narrowed at the sneer in Yuber's voice "- can at least grasp what I am talking about."
Silverberg suppressed a shudder as Yuber took a step towards him, grimacing as the tall demon's hand quickly shot out and, once again, grabbed him. "You enjoy manhandling me, don't you?" he commented as blandly as he could manage.
Albert was taken aback by the feral grin that spread across the blonde's face. "You have no idea."
There was no denying now what the demon wanted.
"Those are my terms, Silverberg. If you accept, you can 'restrain' me all you want. If you don't, you might as well forget your little war game." Once again, Yuber pushed Albert away, looking at the ruffled redhead knowingly. "You know you can't do this without me."
The young man did not reply, and Yuber was certainly not the type to wait; the demon left a few moments in a swirl of golden hair. Albert unsteadily made his way to sit heavily on his bed, slowly recovering from the numerous times the blonde had grabbed him and shoved him around. Green eyes fell on the black gloves encasing his hands, and he numbly flexed his fingers.
The demon would force him to remove his gloves once again.
Not my best, but definitely not my worst. I'm not very fond of either the beginning or end of this piece, but I really wanted to get out this idea of why Yuber is such a 'weakling' in Suikoden III.
