A/N: I have no idea what this is. But I do know that it's based off another prompt exchange I did with the wonderful individual known as I My Me Mine Strawberry Eggs (...Okay, I added those last two words. Good on you if you know of that anime!). My prompt this time was "Don't be so kind to me". How that factors into this story, I have no idea. But I hope you'll enjoy all the same Mir!
I should probably tell you that this is kind of loosely connected to a drabble I wrote, but you don't have to read that to understand what's going on here.
"Are you really sure that this is a good idea?"
Yuuma looked down at the homely woman standing next to him as she shuffled uneasily from foot to foot. It was taking all her willpower to not run off, abandoning him to what she clearly believed to be a terrible fate. Despite the variety of caustic remarks that floated to the surface of Yuuma's mind, he voiced none of them as he continued to hold the woman's gaze.
"I mean," She started irritably, "You do know what he is, right? You do know what happened, right?"
"A slaughter – fifteen people killed, several dozen injured, several dozen still missing."
There was a moment of silence as the woman rapidly blinked several times before her features creased into a frown. "As long as you know what you're getting into," She muttered irritably as she produced a large brass key from the pocket of her apron.
Yuuma's eyes once more drifted to the small shack that the two of them stood outside of. The shack itself was simplistic if not in need of extensive repairs: the thatch roof was blackened with mold, the wooden planks were rotted and flimsy, the metal fastening holding it together were all but corroded through with rust. It was obvious that it was not fit for human habitation.
Which was just fine in the mind of the villagers.
What they had trapped in there was far from human.
With a sharp click, the large brass lock mounted on the door fell away. The village woman took a hasty step back, making a sign to ward off evil spirits and muttering a blessing under her breath. Her personal cleansing of the area complete, she turned once more to the man who stood silently behind her.
"I don't know what good you believe will come from this, but make it quick. The longer that door is unlocked, the less I like it. Do your business here and then leave us in peace."
Giving no form of discernible acknowledgement, Yuuma made his way past the woman, silently entered the shack, and allowed the door to close behind him, plunging his vision into darkness. Even though his eyesight was impaired by the sudden shift in light, he could make out the shape of piles of boxes and barrels – apparently this area had been used for storage at one point. The air within the shack was awash with the scents of decay and human filth, the brief breath of fresh air that had made it through the open door having no discernible effect on the stale air.
Yuuma's first step forward was greeted with the sound of something dragging in the compacted dirt beneath his feet. He didn't have to look down to know that he had stepped on heavy metal chains.
Chains intended to contain the monster should someone foolishly enter the hut.
Someone like him.
Muttering quietly under his breath, Yuuma followed the chains, leading him further and further amongst the stacked crates. The journey ended shortly when he reached the back wall of the hut. He pulled up short as he looked at the very thing he had come to see.
The villagers he had spoken to on his way up here had used words such as "abomination", "dangerous", and "a killer". However, there was one description he heard over and over again, no matter whom he spoke with.
A demon.
Wrapped around both the demon's arms and legs were the heavy metal chains that Yuuma had been following. The chains bolted him to the wall, making it impossible for him to sit down and relieve the tension placed on his body. The demon looked frail and thin, his skin pulled taut over protruding bones; any discerning personal features had been erased by malnutrition. His head was down, fair hair covering his face.
A monster.
A killer.
An innocent.
A boy.
The sight made Yuuma's gut wrench and for a moment, he was back in a different hut in a different time. For just one more terrifying moment, he was twelve years old, chained to the wall and slowly dying. A dark spark of terror ignited within his heart before it was calmly quelled by the overriding voice of logic. Fear would get him and the boy nowhere.
With a few hasty words of enchantment, a small yellow flame lit in his palm. Slowly, he approached the boy, forcing his steps to be calm and measured. Although he had gone on joint recovery missions several times before, this was the first time The Academy had seen it fit to send him on a solo mission. He had to handle the situation with extreme caution and a level head.
"Don't worry," Yuuma said as he approached, keeping his voice low and calm, "I'm here to help you. I'm not going to hurt you."
The boy didn't react; he didn't even seem to be breathing.
"Stay with me," Yuuma forced his voice to remain calm even though a storm of dark emotions were brewing within his chest, "There's still a chance for you. You can't give up yet Lui."
As the boy's name escaped his lips, Yuuma heard the muffled sound of a voice issue into the stagnant air. It was the boy speaking; he was still alive.
"That's right Lui, stay with me. I'm going to get you out of her; I just need you to remain perfectly calm."
The boy gave no indication that he had heard anything beyond Yuuma stating his name. Instead, his voice just kept whispering over and over and over. It wasn't until he was mere inches away from his face that Yuuma could make out what he was saying.
"Yellow is evil Lui…yellow is evil Lui…yellow is evil Lui…yellow is evil Lui…"
The village people, his friends and family, had been trying to cure him the only way they knew how; forcing him to self-exercise the demon that inhabited his body. What promises had they made to him? Had they told him they would give him food if he kept repeating it? Had they promised that he would be able to see his family? Or had they been particularly cruel?
Had they promised that he could return home?
Yuuma could only begin to guess, but it was obvious that whatever they had promised, it was the last thread of hope that was sustaining Lui's sanity.
He had been sent to cut that final thread.
"Lui, I want you to look at me."
It was a command laced not only with the power of Yuuma's personality, but also an edge of ancient glamour. Each word seemed to weaver through the air like a serpent; enticingly dangerous yet impossible to ignore.
For a moment, the only sound within the hut was Lui's continued muttering. Suddenly the sound of clanking chains filled the air as Lui's head slowly raised to meet Yuuma's eyes. In the golden light of the flame in his palm, Yuuma's suspicions were easily confirmed.
Yellow eyes stared into his face.
The flame within his palm suddenly snuffed out as Yuuma inhaled sharply. Although the power contained within those eyes had been dulled by both hunger and slipping sanity, it was still strong enough to disrupt his own magic. Muttering hastily to himself, Yuuma erected several mental barriers before once more allowing the flame to light in his palm.
The boy still stared straight ahead, his eyes locking with Yuuma's once more. Even though he had prepared this time, the tiny yellow flame within his palm flickered and wavered. To Yuuma's surprise, the young boy's eyes flickered to the flame suspended in his palm.
"Yellow is evil Lui…" He said, his voice beginning to rise in intensity, "Yellow is evil Lui! Yellow is evil Lui! Yellow is evil Lui!"
Barrage after barrage of pure energy assaulted Yuuma's mental barriers, causing his skull to rattle and his ears to ring. The attacks were unrefined, but the raw, unrestrained power behind them made it increasingly difficult for him to maintain his defenses. He had to do something to change the tide, fast.
"Lui!" He shouted his name, forcing as much glamour magic as he could into his words, "Yellow is not evil! You have to believe me!"
The barrage on Yuuma's senses cut off abruptly and he watched as Lui slumped within his chains; he had used up too much of his energy in too short of a time. Seizing the opportunity, Yuuma raised the boy's chin from his chest as he forced him to once more meet his gaze.
"Yellow is not evil Lui. You are not evil."
With the slightest flick of his wrist, Yuuma allowed the glamour magic he always maintained around himself to fall away. Although he couldn't personally see it, he knew that the blue was draining from his irises and being replaced with something far more malicious.
Yellow eyes.
Demon eyes.
Mage eyes.
"Lui, trust me," Yuuma's voice was once more low and encouraging, the air turning thick with glamour magic, "You are not evil. They only lock you away because magic is something they can't understand; it frightens them. You have power that they can never have so they want to lock you away. They want to prevent you from using your powers – your gift."
Silence settled between the two of them as glamour magic continued to swirl sweetly within the air. Yuuma forced all his concentration on maintaining the glamour; if he let up for a moment, the spell would be broken and it was likely that Lui would fly back into a rage.
"Your name…"
The sound of his voice was so faint and unexpected that for a moment, Yuuma simply kept holding the boy's gaze. When he realized that the boy had spoken, a flicker of doubt flashed through him; with this much glamour in the air, all the boy should have been able to do was agree. The only way he could have broken free was if he had extremely powerful magic at his disposal.
"My name is Yuuma," He found himself answering slowly as he continued to meet the young boy's gaze.
"Yuuma…" The boy said the word slowly as he tried it out for the first time, "Yuuma, I'm…not evil…right? Yuuma, I'm…not evil…right? Yuuma, I'm…not evil…right?"
"No," Yuuma stated quietly, "You're not evil."
After hearing this declaration, Lui did something that Yuuma never expected.
He smiled.
The expression wasn't to last long. A moment later Lui slumped within his chains, a breathy sigh escaping his lips. His breathing fell to a steady rhythm – Yuuma slowly realized that the young boy had passed out. Apparently he had been waiting so long to hear those words that the relief had overwhelmed him.
Wasting no more time, Yuuma's allowed the flame within his palm to grow in intensity, quickly and inelegantly hacking through the chains that bound Lui. The young boy collapsed like a ragdoll, completely senseless into Yuuma's arms. The boy may have had untold magic potential, but he was still a child.
"A child who's about to 'die'" Yuuma muttered darkly as he gently eased Lui onto his back and exited the hut. As he departed, he allowed the flame within his palm to flare angrily outwards, catching on the rotten thatch of the hut. Within moments, the acidic smell of burning filled the night.
The villagers would claim that the fire was the proper retribution for a boy like him; the devil was simply coming to claim one of his children. As far as they, and the rest of the world, were concerned Lui was no more.
He was no one, nothing.
He was the kind of person who would unequivocally serve The Academy.
It should have been easy to do; after all, hadn't the same been done to him all those years ago? But as he gently shifted the frail, broken boy, Yuuma couldn't help but remember – a different hut, a different time, a different boy; the same situation. His future had been stolen by The Academy.
He had been trained to be ruthless; he had been trained to be emotionless and detached. The Academy had hundreds of loyal servants at their disposal; he had been trained to be just one more. But as the young boy mumbled senselessly in his sleep, the all too human feelings of uncertainty and guilt surged though him.
Could he really condemn the boy – the first mage he had ever rescued on his own – to a life of servitude to The Academy?
The more he thought about it, the more muddled the "correct" answer became.
"Hey look, it's Lui."
No! Stop talking to me! You'll die again! I'll kill you!
"Where are you going? Don't you want to play a little bit?"
Stop it please! I don't want to hurt you!
"God, you're so annoying! I'm just trying to be nice! But you always run away when we try to play; do you think you're better than us or something?!"
No, no, no, no, no, no!
"Well don't worry, the game we're playing today is good enough for even someone as stuck-up as you."
Please stop, please stop, please stop!
Suddenly there is a crowd. The faces that press closer and closer to him are familiar, but so distorted by hatred that he can't help but involuntarily shrink back. His retreat is abruptly cut off as his back slams into a wall. Cold fear grips his heart as his hand futilely grasps for a weapon that isn't there and he wouldn't be able to use even if it was.
There's no escape.
The ring of other children is getting tighter and tighter.
Then the kicks and punches start. He steels himself. He has gone through this torture before and he is sure that he will go through it again. He can't allow himself to cry out. He can't allow himself to be weak. His body curls into a ball as the assault continues. Soon he will grow numb and all he'll have to do is wait it out
"Come on! Fight back! If you're so much better than all of us, fight back!"
Please…please…not again…don't make me watch it again…please stop…please stop…
The boy's mocking voice raises in volume and his kicks become harsher. Tears of pain well in the other boy's eyes as he bites down on his cheek, trying his best to prevent the roiling whines of pain from escaping his lips. If he makes noise the torture will only go on longer.
Suddenly, he feels a hand on the back of his head and his head is jerked upward. Blood trickles into his eyes and the pain makes his head pound. They should be stopping soon; this is always when they stop.
Then he smells the fire.
NO! STOP IT! I CAN'T WATCH THIS AGAIN! STOP THIS!
Fear overtakes reason and resolution as he begins to struggle against his captors, terrified screams escaping his lips. His motions just drive his captors to tighten their grip and the boy holding the torch slowly approaches.
"Now you're not so high and mighty, are you? Come on! You're just as human as we are! Admit it!"
His voice raises into a frenzied wail as tears begin to stream down his face. He's not human like them! Mommy always told him never to let anyone know; she told him that other people would hate him if they knew that he wasn't human. He can't do it! He has to be a good boy and listen to Mommy!
Suddenly pain shoots through his arm and the smell of burning flesh overwhelms his senses.
He screams.
He screams.
HE SCREAMS.
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!
There's screaming. There's heat. There's darkness.
He's burning. They're burning.
Burning, burning, burning.
Dying.
"Stop it stop it stop it stop it!"
A voice tore through the night and Lui jerked awake, his eyes spreading wide in terror. His heart was beating erratically in his chest and his body was covered in sweat. Terror and confusion intensified as Lui frantically looked about him.
Nothing was familiar. He seemed to be in some forest clearing or another, pine trees towered above him, the smell of freshly fallen rain and greenery permeated the air. In the distance, he could see the hazy peaks of mountains outlined by the fiery streaks created by the sunset.
Fire.
He had killed them.
Lui pulled his knees to his chest and clutched his skull as he felt tears well up in his eyes. Sobs tore from his throat as a wave of unnamable emotion swallowed him. He wasn't sure who he was crying for any more; was it for those he had killed? Was it for himself? Was it for the uncertainty of what was to come?
Was it because he had been unable to contain the demon inside him?
Almost as if moving in a trance, he allowed his hands to fall away from his head as one hand wandered to his upper arm. To his surprise, he found the area covered with fresh linen dressings. Moving of their own volition, his fingers began to unravel the dressing.
It was his proof.
It was his proof that he was a demon.
It was his proof that he would never get forgiveness.
It was his proof that he didn't deserve forgiveness.
"You shouldn't do that. The area was infected when I found you and it's only going to get worse if you expose it to the elements."
Lui's actions abruptly stop as a calm voice issues through the clearing. He turned around to find an older man wrapped in a gray traveling cloak towering over him. The man had startling blue eyes that seemed to glow in the sunset.
"Who…are you?" Lui asked sluggishly, his lips fighting to form the words.
"My name is Yuuma. I am a mage of The Academy."
Mage. It's a word that strikes terror in Lui's heart and clears away all rational thought. He shifts his body backwards as he looks up at the man's face. Lui's attention once more settles on the man's eyes; his blue eyes.
"But mages can't…can't have blue eyes…"
"You're correct."
"Then you're lying?"
"Not in the way you think."
Suddenly, the man begins to mutter under his breath and Lui feels a shudder run through his body that had nothing to do with the chilly evening. It's magic – the man named Yuuma was using magic. His whole life he had been told that he should try to hide his gift, that people born with yellow eyes must try their hardest never to give into the tempting voice of the devil that raged within them.
Who was this man that would so blatantly break every rule he had ever been taught?
Lui's thoughts were thrown off course as he watched the blue drain from Yuuma's eyes to be replaced with a luminescent yellow.
It was only then that he remembered.
The villagers who had chained him to the wall, his mother who had abandoned him, the mantra that they told him would be able to expel the demon, the hours upon days upon weeks of having no interaction with anyone.
The man who had saved him from that purgatory.
Yuuma.
"Please…just stop…"
Lui's voice was little more than a chocked sob as he pulled his eyes away from Yuuma, instead choosing to stare at a non-descript spot on the ground. His head was awhirl with too many questions and too many revelations. The older man seemed to sense this, for he remained silent as Lui tried his best to gather his thoughts.
"I'm grateful…" He began slowly and cautiously, "I truly am. But I just have to know…why did you do it?"
"Because you are a mage."
"But I killed people…I made them burn…I killed them…I don't deserve to be saved…please just…leave me alone…"
With the declaration made, Lui once more began to pick at the wrappings that covered his arm.
If only he had died in the fire as well.
If only he could have escaped the demon that was constantly taunting him for good.
Suddenly, Lui felt something drop into his lap. The tears that had been forming at the corner of his eyes dispersed as he looked down. Terror ran through him as he registered the implications of what had been given to him.
It was a knife, held in a simple leather sheath.
Lui looked up, but Yuuma had already turned his back and was heading off into the forest. No words were needed; the message was clear.
Follow me or take your life, the choice is yours.
He could have used his glamour magic to force the young boy to agree.
He could have physically overpowered the young boy and dragged him all the way to The Academy.
Instead, he had given the boy a choice.
Yuuma's eyes once more traced the every fluctuating outline of the small fire he had built. Despite himself, his thoughts once more settled on Lui. It had been several hours since he left the boy with the knife.
He found himself hoping fervently that the young boy would take his own life.
At least then it was quick and relatively painless. At least then it was on your own terms rather than the terms laid down by others. At least then you got to die as a human being rather than an extension of another's will.
At least then he wouldn't be forced to walk the same path that Yuuma had chosen.
Behind him, he heard the rustling of underbrush as someone moved about and Yuuma allowed his eyes to close in resignation. The boy had chosen to live the life of a mage.
"Are you certain?" Yuuma asked as he stood, keeping his back to where he knew the younger boy to be.
"No…" He heard the boy respond in a voice that wavered in the night air.
"Then keep the knife. If we make it all the way to The Academy, you can return it to me."
"…Okay."
"We should press on. For people like us, it's safer to travel at night."
Mumbling to himself, Yuuma allowed the flames to die down as he turned to face the young boy for the first time. He found Lui staring intently at him, his face a mask of determination. Yuuma couldn't help but wonder just how long the façade would last before the demons ragging inside Lui's skull caused him to crack.
Will you walk the same path that I have?
Will you walk the path of a mage?
Will you walk the path of a demon?
A/N: Having these two in the same story together, whether it's as a couple or not, is really starting to grow on me.