"Kill it," Garv glared down at the bleeding human that had the misfortune to happen into his path.
It was impossible. Garv-sama wasn't asking him to do this. Garv-sama was kind. He looked at the human that had been crippled by his master – bleeding from many wounds, battered and broken, eyes sunken and blood flowing from the corner of his mouth. But still the human stood stubbornly, looking him in the eye – daring him to follow his master's plot.
He couldn't kill the being, he was helpless. It wasn't possible that Garv-sama would abandon the soul. The man's face was his own, Valgarv realized, short months ago, he himself had stood broken before Garv. He had stood, and opposed, and acknowledged his death. But for him it hadn't come, and he was grateful now. This man didn't have that chance – he would die, and Garv would do nothing to help him. It wasn't possible, but it was happening anyway.
"I can't," Valgarv answered his master, diverting his eyes from the scene. He prayed that his insubordination would be overlooked – knowing that it wouldn't be. "He's helpless."
Garv seethed for a handful of seconds before answering. Val had never before rejected his orders – and he didn't like the fact that he did. "Oh, I'm sorry – I would hate to compromise your high morals. Maybe the Gold Dragons will praise you for your merciful manner." He spat the words at the other Mazoku, trying to restrain himself from destroying the troublesome half-dragon on the spot.
Nerve being hit, Valgarv spun on his heels, "Damn you!" he yelled without thinking. How dare that Mazoku accuse him of being too soft in his conviction? Be damned if he would sacrifice his honor for some maniac Mazoku general!
Stung by the sharp answer, Garv turned his back on his servant, and back to the human that had started the debate. Without giving the matter second thought he swung his sword in a graceful arch and cut deeply into the human's flesh, ensuring a fatal wound.
The matter of the human settled, he turned back to Val, "A Mazoku can't hesitate. You'd damn well accept that you're people are dead because they didn't fight back. You aren't a Dragon any more." Without waiting for reply, he started to walk away.
Valgarv stood shocked. Garv-sama was right. He felt his eyes growing wide, and he clenched his fist, "I'm not a Dragon. I'm a Monster." He said it to himself, still not grasping the feeling. It was true, his people were dead. No, his people were very much alive. He wasn't a Dragon – so the Ancient Dragons weren't his people any more. He was a Mazoku.
Garv-sama was right. A Mazoku couldn't hesitate. So he wouldn't now.
I don't want a love, cause it is a lie
Night was a hard time to live through. Silence that didn't distract him, memories came back uninvited, and a darkness that let his memories take shape and form. Every Shadow was the image of one of his people. The guardian of the temple, the great leader, the watcher of the hatcheries, all of them his brothers, and all of them gone. He had loved them, but they were gone anyway. Would they have left him alone completely if they had cared about him? During the long nights, it felt as if they would have taken him with them if they had truly cared for him.
Mazoku didn't need heat, so there was no fire to warm him. He was left in the dark, with nothing to take his attention away from anything that might surface in his mind. And when he thought back, all he could see was that of all the Ancient dragons that had been in that battle, he was the one that was still alive. He didn't run, he didn't hide. He was forced into his human form and dying, and only when he realized when he would be more burden than help did he retreat from the battle.
After exterminating the rest of his race, the Gold Dragons had seen him, known he was there, and let him live anyway. They left him to slowly bleed to death in the desert. Yet somehow he was still alive, and he felt guilty for not dying with the other Dragons that had been his species. What right did he have to be alive, unless he wasn't good enough for death. The thought plagued him night after night.
It was surprise to him when a voice came from nearby. True, he had never been left completely alone since the time he had become a Mazoku, Garv had always been with him – but the Demon Dragon King very rarely spoke to him. When he was addressed it was regarding battle of some sort, and never without reason.
"Don't worry about it, Kid," bristling at the name but letting it bounce off his skin, Valgarv looked over at the other Mazoku. Garv had been relaxing, leaning against at tree and appearing for all purposes to be fast asleep. But then, Mazoku didn't usually sleep – as Valgarv had learned after what he had thought was a horrible bout of insomnia.
"Worry about what?" he asked in a voice that reflected none of his inner indecision. He was worried about plenty of things, but he had little intention of letting his master become aware of it. Garv-sama was the one who told him that Mazoku didn't hesitate.
"Whatever it is that's bothering you," Garv answered. He was well aware of the other Mazoku's unhappiness, his form let him detect any negative emotion with ease, regardless of where it originated. He couldn't help think that he was related to the other's stress, but there was little he could do about it.
Valgarv snorted, as if to laugh at the idea. The gesture was a lie, but as he had learned to read emotions, he knew that Garv-sama could too. He was worried. Garv-sama was his brother now as the Dragons had been then. Before he could catch and stomp out the emotion, a twinge of loneliness surfaced in him and begged company. Oh Cepheed, Shabranigdo, whoever it is that listens to me now, don't leave me alone again…
I don't believe in word, except dirty words
"Be careful," Garv advised, watching the young Dragon/Mazoku stalking a creature of Zelas' force.
"Leave me alone!" Valgarv snapped back, he could feel Garv-sama following close behind him within the astral plain. He knew better than to yell at his master, but his nerves were on edge after tracking the other Mazoku for what seemed like hours with no progress. His task wasn't so much to destroy the other, as Garv-sama's manner of teaching him to mask any force that he might have carried with him.
There was a noise of grudging approval that only he could hear from Garv-sama, just as all Garv-sama said to him was shielded.
Valgarv was finding the task easy, and wasn't sure of the purpose of his master's warning, not seeing the purpose of it. It lead to his wondering if Garv-sama did not trust his abilities, and if that was the case why he was made a Mazoku in the first place.
"Damn it, Val!" the Dragon/Mazoku sprung to attention at the harsh words. He hadn't done anything to merit the reprimand to his knowledge, and was surprised by the sudden words from Garv-sama.
It was while he pondered this that a sharp pain struck him in the center of his back, sending him plunging forward onto the forest floor. He didn't know what it was at first, but from where he lay on the ground he managed to spin around and see that it was the other Mazoku that he had been tracking.
He had let his masking spell slip, and he had let Zelas' servant sense him. The other floated above him, a spell conjuring in his hand and looking back with the eyes that all Mazoku had. So, it would be a monster that killed the last Ancient Dragon. Just not the one he had thought.
Garv-sama was right, he should have been more careful. But now he would die, and it was his own fault. His revenge would be unrealized.
He closed his eyes to the sight of the other Mazoku, ready for the death that his carelessness had earned. The Mazoku was very powerful, he knew, and the spell that it conjured would kill him without difficulty. There was no reason to fight, he had failed.
But the attack didn't come, not the searing pain as he had expected, not the black void of death. Instead only a rough hand that grabbed his shoulder and pulled him to his feet – and he risked opening his eyes.
Garv-sama was the one that had appeared, had apparently slipped out of the shield created on the Astral plain and helped him. He could feel the anger surging from his master; saw rage in his eyes. He saw no trace of the other monster, probably in too many pieces to be retrievable.
"Shit!" Garv swore, too angry to worry about being diplomatic, "You almost got yourself killed, damn it! What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Valgarv didn't answer, but diverted his gaze. He should have known better to get Garv-sama angry, but he apparently didn't. It wouldn't do him any good to listen to the yelling that followed, but he knew better than not to do it, at very least.
"Do you care so little about your life!?"
He's so angry that he doesn't know what he's saying, Valgarv realized, no Mazoku would consciously say anything like that to another.
I don't believe in dream, until I am death
The Dragons were no longer his people, Mazoku were the sworn enemies of Dragons. Somehow, he was both.
Garv-sama had taken pity on him when they had met, and had accepted him since then. Even taken him as a brother of sorts, which meant much to the former Dragon. But beyond Garv-sama, he was not accepted. It was rare that Mazoku became what could be called 'friends' and beyond meetings among their ranks, they rarely associated at all with one another. It was very stressful for a Dragon that had spent his entire life in a large group of his kind. Beyond that, he was farther than the other Mazoku than any others, as he was still part Dragon, and no Mazoku would have anything to do with a Dragon – it could too easily go wrong, and he could too easily cause trouble for the dragon race, even if there were none of the Ancients left.
With that in mind, he began to conjure a spell that he had learned very recently, for the specific purpose he was intending to use if for now. A spell that could destroy a Mazoku.
The words were in a dialect that he didn't understand, and he wasn't sure exactly what he was saying, but he knew the purpose. He murmured the incantation as quietly as he could, hoping not to be heard by anyone, as Garv-sama still watched over him most of the time.
He'd had a dream the night before, in one of his rare times actually sleeping – due to his form not needing the rest. He had been back with his people. He had been flying with the other dragons, sailing over the land that surrounded their home territory.
He wanted to be in that dream forever. But the dragons were dead, and there was no way for him to be with them.
Unless he was dead too.
Reaching the last few lines of the spell, he raised his hand above his head, feeling the energy from the spell gather there, forming a ball of magic so powerful that it scalded his skin where he held it.
"Stop it."
The command was rough and unexpected, and due to this he did quickly drop the ball of energy – turning to see the person that had spoken to him. He didn't have time to curse the luck that let him drop the energy before he realized who had spoken to him, and was instantly submissive, in fear the consequence of not being.
"Never try that again," Garv's voice was a sharp as the blade of the sword he carried with him. But beyond that, he said nothing, turning to walk away.
"That's it?" Valgarv spat his words at the receding form of Garv. To be leaving after the event just seemed impossible. The whole event seemed impossible. He had no idea what could have made it happen like that, or why he had just listened when Garv-sama told him to do something.
Garv continued to walk away with no response.
"Say something, damn it!" Valgarv yelled after him, his anger rising. How dare that Mazoku interrupt the will of a Dragon when he was returning to his people?
But then, he wasn't a Dragon anymore.
Garv didn't turn around, but did stop to speak, "I've been alone for thousands of years. It's not that bad, in the end."
"That's crap." Valgarv snarled, opposing his master out of anger.
Garv turned around at that, and continued with sincerity, "But I don't want to be alone again."
END