SLEEP ENDS EVERYTHING
Lina!
Maybe you're stubborn, and sort of perverse...
Maybe you trick people with your charm...
Maybe you look down on anyone who's weaker than you, but...
But I...
But I need you!
Lina!
Don't leave me!
Ahh...
Lina...
x x x x x
The first sensation was cold. Her body stripped bare and pressed against frost. Ice ate at her skin with frigid teeth, jaws closing around her; resolve freezing numb. Lina's hands shook and her eyes went blind. Everything stained in a perfect black. She remembered casting the Giga Slave, but then perception and reality slipped away, replaced by a dark and soothing warmth. Now that warmth was gone, and she was lying upon snow-shadows. Quickly, she drew herself into a fetal position, trying to fend off the echoes of encroaching hypothermia. Her clothes were gone, along with everything else. She wondered for a brief moment if she had been blinded, because
(darkness beyond blackest pitch)
she simply couldn't perceive anything with her eyes. She could still feel her soft skin scraped raw against burning ice, her silken hair matted around her throat and shoulders from the cold sweat, and the fleeting sensations of inner resolve that extinguished like a torch thrown into a wintry mire. Everything grew colder. She pulled her knees to her bare chest as her teeth began to chatter, and she almost began to cry out to see if there was anyone there; a futile gesture because
(King of Darkness, who)
she knew there wasn't. She somehow just knew that she was alone. But she wouldn't be broken. Even if she was blinded, even if she was the last, and even if she was the world and it had died—she was invincible. The spell had taken everything away, just as she had sacrificed herself to do. Gourry was alive. She had no way of knowing this, of course, but it was a mantra that she instilled upon her essence, that chattered through her serrated thoughts like the incessant clacking of her teeth. With hope, she couldn't break, even if she was gone. And within oblivion's tender grasp, she faded into the great cold distance. Her humiliation complete: her final thoughts a sad, sarcastic reflection as she remembered a time when she considered herself to be
(and)
strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. Lina closed her eyes; a throaty sigh escaped her as she fell back into his warmth. She could hear Gourry faintly snoring behind her, a gentle sound that comforted her in the night. Despite the freezing temperatures just outside of the window, Lina felt perfectly safe and content. Wrapped in blankets and Gourry's strong embrace, there was nothing for her to fear.
Faintly, Lina watched the fire that lazily crackled across the room that they shared, gingerly stroking her fingertips across his bare arms that encircled her. Everything seemed so far away. She
(she was standing in her own shadow)
smiled to herself, soft, comforting thoughts provoking a cradle of lethargy. Everything was as it should be. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore. The rain, the loss, the emptiness, the darkness, the monsters, the ghosts of lost emotion—she didn't need to worry about any of that anymore.
Gourry stirred behind her, muttering incoherently in his sleep, and drawing her closer. She giggled to herself, letting him pull her even closer, pretending that for a moment, they were the same person.
"I love you, Gourry," she murmured.
His hot breath tickled her neck. "Mm... Lina..."
Lina smiled.
(Darkness beyond the blackest pitch, deeper than the deepest night)
She squeezed his arm once more, before delicately closing her scarlet eyes and
(and)
drifting away at sea, as boats are known to do. It was captivating for little Lina, because she hadn't ever been able to see the piers from as high up as she was. She clapped her small hands together gleefully, ecstatic to see the thousands of boats, ships, and other crafts leaving and entering port. For the small girl, it was overwhelmingly majestic, a sprawling palace of adventure lain out before her eyes.
"Awesome!" Lina cheered, watching an elaborate ivory-white royal yacht push off into the vast, cerulean sea. "Man, I can totally see myself on one of those!"
"When I said it was a cool place to be, I didn't mean it was that cool," the boy said, shaking his head at her enthusiasm. "You haven't seen the sea before?"
(like gold upon the sea of chaos)
"Please," Lina rolled her eyes, grinning fiendishly. "This kind of voyeurism is the sort of thing people take for granted. Jeez, I bet that thing cost a million gold! Just for the hull! Nevermind the labor... Oh, Jeez. The fact I don't have one of those is a crime against humanity."
Little Lina and her small companion sat on a grassy perch situated atop a rocky cliff several miles off the outskirts of Seyruun. A secluded knoll at the edge of the grasslands, grasping the perimeter of the sea. A sunbeam-soaked lip that peered into a valley harbor; an epic docking bay skirting the rocky cliffs several miles from Atlas City. The view was magnificent: sunlight smeared across a glassy ocean, solidarity broken by the continuous foaming waves, glancing off the sides of hundreds of boats and docking bays. A mass of people colored the wood in a human blur. To young Lina, it was like gazing down at an entirely separate universe.
"Anyways," the boy spoke, sitting down in the grass. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. You're the first person I've ever brought up here, y'know."
Lina turned to him. "Oh yeah? Hey, Zelgadis, how'd'ya find this place anyways?"
With a shrug, Zelgadis brushed his arctic locks from his brow. "Does it matter?"
"Yes."
"Hey, sit down, would you? It's weird with you standing there."
Lina scoffed. "I don't remember giving you a license to order me around!"
Zelgadis sighed. "I guess... Jeez."
After a few more moments of staring out at the sea, her eyes wistful, Lina
(the power that you and I)
scooted over towards the young boy and sat next to him. Absently her fingers coiled around a handful of grass by her knees before plucking it from the earth. Wordlessly she lifted her hand before gently uncoiling her fingers, watching the various emerald blades be carried off over the edge of the cliff on the wind. She turned to him.
"You know, I could easily be offended."
He blinked. "How's that?"
"Because you took so long to take me here!" she sighed. She bent her legs and rested her chin on her knees. "C'mon, Zel. I thought we were friends."
Zelgadis shrugged, watching the sky above. "I dunno... I guess... because this is my special place. No one else is allowed."
Lina wrinkled her nose. "This isn't exactly a 'boy's only' tree-house, y'know. It's grass. On a cliff."
"I didn't want to tell you. Don't take it personally."
After frowning for a moment, Lina reached over and punched the young boy in the arm. A sharp jerk of pain brought a yelp from the dazing youth, and he glared at her venomously.
"What the heck was that for!"
Lina scoffed. "That makes us even. Or at least sets us on the right track. Maybe after another punch or two."
"Okay, okay. Sorry," he relented. "But this place was special, Lina. I didn't want to tell anyone, not even you." His eyes narrowed. "I probably wouldn't have told you if you hadn't followed me here in the first place."
"Hee hee," Lina giggled. "S'anyways, really. I like the view. It's got that whole 'this is world and it will soon be mine' atmosphere, which I can really get into. But, really, what else? It's not that special."
He looked at her.
She met his gaze. "...My knuckles are getting kinda itchy from not hitting anything. They have a mind of their own, y'know?" Her hand raised slowly and she cocked her head. "Oh! There they go again, taking control." Fingers coiled into a lumpy fist. "Uh-oh, Zel, they're getting mad. Better spill before they start playing Bad Cop."
Zelgadis sat up, and brought his hands together, his youthful expression becoming morose. He shuffled his shoes in the grass. "Yeah, yeah. Take a hint, Lina. I don't want to talk about it."
(I can't see you, Lina...)
Lina grinned. Her fist uncurled and she put her arm over his shoulder. "I know you don't. That's why I'm so interested! You see? Now you have to tell me."
"C'mon, Lina, drop it."
"Oh, wait, they're getting antsy again..."
"Lina, no."
Her playful grip tightened. "Zel, you have no idea how annoying I can be."
"Hey, ow, Lina, stop it!"
She grinned devilishly, her gesture becoming a stranglehold. "Fess up or the shoulder gets it!"
"Ouch!" he cried, trying to wrestle her off, and failing. "Ow! Okay, okay, stop it already!"
"You'll talk?"
(the fools who stand before me be)
"Yeah," he muttered, pushing her away. "Fine."
Lina cheered, happy that she had yet again managed to manipulate someone into doing what she wanted. It was something that she found she was becoming particularly skilled at, and she took an intense—almost evil—joy in asserting her 'talent' as frequently and gratuitously as possible. "Interrogation time—out with it."
Zelgadis sighed, once again wrapping his arms around his knees. "...It has to do with my Grandfather."
"Grandfather?" Lina blinked. "Oh, you mean Mr. Rezo?"
Zelgadis' flinched slightly as she said that name. Lina noticed.
"Y-yeah," he answered. "See, sometimes he gets mad. You know—mad. When I don't do well in school, I mean... Or other stuff, like- and then he—"
Lina's eyes fell to some fresh bruises that she hadn't noticed before on Zel's exposed legs. She looked at him again, all humor gone from her voice. "Zel..."
The small boy seemed to internally unravel, almost choking on his words. "Ah... Lina, I can't talk a... ah, damn..." He took a breath. "I don't wanna talk about—"
"Then don't," she said. "I'm sorry." She reached out to comfort him, her
(and)
hand curling into a fist before cracking into his face. Her fingers vibrated from the force of the impact, but the actual act felt so amazingly cathartic. The younger man stumbled backwards with his hand covering his broken nose as blood seeped down his face, falling back over a table and into a pile of neatly stacked books. Lina grinned at her defeated prey, feeling the invigorating adrenaline rush of supremacy. She didn't feel the least bit sorry for him. No one takes potshots at her bust and escapes unscathed.
"Miss Lina!"
Lina tried not to laugh as she turned around, scratching the back of her head. "Oh, uh, hey there, Amelia."
(watch me watch reality)
Amelia stood with her arms crossed in front of her chest, adorned in the ornate robes of a student White Magic Priestess of Seyruun. Her face, however, was cross and filled with obvious discontent towards her friend's actions. "Miss Lina, striking a Priest of our order is hardly behavior that is becoming of a disciple of Justice!"
Lina, wearing robes that mirrored Amelia's, bit her lip in an attempt to choke down her laughter. Amelia simply didn't look threatening when angry. "I-I'm sorry, there, Amelia. I don't know what came over me."
"Honestly, Miss Lina," Amelia sighed, throwing her hands into the air. "You're just impossible, sometimes. It's amazing that you haven't been expelled from the order yet! You've already done who-knows-how-much damage to the academy... not counting all the beatings."
"They were asking for it!" Lina snapped, not particularly enjoying being lectured when it really wasn't her fault. "I said I was sorry."
Amelia tapped her foot, staring at Lina.
Annoyed, Lina leaned against the table and matched Amelia's attempted ire. "What?"
"You're apologizing to wrong person, Miss Lina."
Lina glanced over her shoulder at the younger male priest who was picking himself up out of the pile of books while pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the bleeding. She frowned. "Amelia, I'm not apologizing to that jerk."
"You can't let your pride get in the way of your studies—or Justice, Miss Lina," Amelia reasoned.
"Yes, and I'm sure Lady Justice or whatever would champion the cause of someone just out-and-out telling me I'm flat-chested? I was just sitting in here studying! So what if he was making too much noise sorting through library records and I insulted his hair! I mean, look at it! And I swear, Amelia, I am NOT apologizing."
"Fine, Miss Lina. But the Headmasters are going to be—"
"Bah, let them be as pissed as they want," Lina scoffed, waving the issue aside, not even watching as the young man exited the room clumsily. "I was minding my own business. Besides, I'm way more advanced at White Magic than anyone else in the academy. What're they going to do—kick out their brightest prospect? Pfft."
"Bragging is also not becoming of a Priestess of Seyruun," Amelia said, this time with a smile.
"Let me know when something fun is," Lina joked, picking up the wooden chair that had been knocked over during the commotion.
As Lina began to sort through the texts and papers that had been scattered due to her violent actions, Amelia withdrew a single text volume from her elaborate, pristine robes. The book was ancient, something that she had recently discovered in the deeper bowels of the Academy of Seyruun's archaic and vast library. It was a book that she was most certain that Lina would be interested in reading, so she had
(I call upon thee, and swear myself to thee)
(broken and sleep)
made an effort to rush as quickly as possible to Lina's study area to share her find with the fiery redhead. Despite Lina's frequent and rather incensed violent outbursts, Lina was a dear friend to Amelia. The two of them got along remarkably well, as the majority of other Priests and Priestess' at the Academy were quite obviously intimidated by Amelia's status of Princess of the nation. Not Lina, though. Lina could care less—something that both aggravated and pleased Amelia at the same time. Although there were those times that Lina's actions aroused the desire within Amelia to pull her hair out, she also felt very attached to the frank, assertive and energetic Lina Inverse.
"So, what's up, Amelia?" Lina said softly, sitting back down in front of her studies.
Amelia shook her head, brought out of her reverie. "I found something a little while ago that you might find interesting, Miss Lina."
Lina whirled around, exuberant excitement radiating from her face. "Oh my God, did you finally convince Haymann to let me back into his restaurant? Hell yes! I knew the old codger would come around. I was only responsible for half of the kitchen's incineration. If that. And that charcoaled bounty hunter? He was like that when I got there!"
Amelia blinked. "Um... no."
Crestfallen, Lina returned to the papers in front of her. "Oh. Well, then, I'd better get back to work. You can show me later."
"Are you sure, Miss Lina? I get the feeling you're going to be interested in this..."
"Nah, s'okay," Lina said, waving over her shoulder. "I really do have some studying to do. Contrary to popular belief, I do actually have an interest in my education."
"Alright then," Amelia said, turning. She grinned with her back to Lina. "I guess I'll just have to read this Claire Bible Manuscript all by myself."
Lina was out of her seat faster than Amelia could blink. "YOU'RE SHITTING ME!"
Amelia chuckled, holding the text to her chest. "Uh... no, I'm not."
Jumping into the air, Lina levitated for a moment in pure jubilance. "All-RIGHT! Way to go, Amelia!"
Amelia beamed.
(who stand before me be destroyed)
"Well, come on, come on," Lina urged, leading Amelia over to the table. "Don't be a stranger, sit, sit!"
Amelia gently placed the book on the table as she sat across from Lina. "I thought you had really important studying to do?"
"Probably. Enough about that. Let's take a look!"
Amelia couldn't help but relent to her own overwhelming anticipation towards finding what the book had in store. It was an elusive target, as the pair of them had spent countless months researching the whereabouts of a manuscript and spent many hours leafing through the massive library. To actually have a copy in their hands was elevating, bringing both of them to a new level of eager. Lina licked her lips hungrily as she placed the book in front of her, slowly
(and)
opening her eyes, wincing as sandblasted dust lingered in the air. Charred earth and a bleeding sky overlapped its broken arms around her, and she coughed scarlet. Lina fell to her knees on the blackened ground, her hand falling to her mouth to catch the stray blood from her wounded throat. Her eyes were tearing from the exquisite intermingling of her swollen and torn throat as well the stinging sensation of a rotting atmosphere. A dead wind whipped up, crushing against the stagnating corpse of a world, and Lina's eyes were drawn inexorably towards the source of nightmare energy.
She saw herself.
A phantom duplicate, darkly glowing with a
(but I need you)
perverted and preternatural incandescence. Lying around her doppelganger like shattered dolls were the fragmented corpses of her friends. Mangled, swollen, and spilling outside of themselves in seething wet heaves of violet crimson gore, Lina felt as if she was going to be sick. But she couldn't, because she couldn't move. Her eyes were fixated upon her own physiological mirror—a darker ghost of who she was, pulsing with the ecstasy of grief and ruin. A shell of her attacking self.
Lina swallowed, her own saliva descending like wet razors on her wounded throat. Pain vanished as she went numb.
The dark Lina stood aloof in front of a monolithic juggernaught; a twisted and vile manifestation of corruption and desecration. And even still, it was nothing more than a mere splinter. Twisted shadows bled from Shabranigdo's countenance, ruby eyes scarring the world from simply looking at it. A sinister grin poised upon his jaws, his hands cracked with the resistance within oblivion, ready to break the world.
She knew what was about to happen.
Lina crawled forward slowly, reaching out towards her darker self. "N-no... don't cast..."
But she couldn't speak, because she began to choke on her own blood.
The dark Lina lifted her hands, slowly, and began to speak the words that
(ahh)
Lina knew all too well. Action was seized and halted by her powerlessness. With a flick of her wrist, the dark Lina began to gather unfathomable shadow energies, nocuous and legion in her palm. As she did, her frail, beautiful, haunting voice murmured on the dying wind.
"Darkness beyond blackest pitch, deeper than the deepest night... King of Darkness, who shines like gold upon the sea of chaos..."
(it's just time)
(let me in)
Nothing could stop her now. "I call upon thee! Swear myself to thee! Let the fools who stand before me be destroyed, by the power that
(this is for me, and me only)
you and I possess!" Her hands snapped downwards, pulling the universe in upon itself as the eternal vacuum of oblivion tore through existence and into her grasp. Her eyes were empty, echoes of her ravaged friends behind a light that had died alongside of the world. "Giga Slave!"
Shabranigdo just grinned.
Lina cried out, and her throat tore open.
Dark Lina brought her hands down, midnight energies pouring from her grasp, and the world ceased to
(and)
exist for one reason alone, and that was to feel pain. Zelgadis never really stopped for longer than a moment to contemplate why he was who he was, because he simply attested his creation and individuality to be nothing more than the assertion of pain and absolution of agony. But that was okay, because he liked pain. Pain was so acute, it was real, he could feel it deeper in more ways than were he to be physically holding it in his hands. Pain was something that he could feel pulsing through each and every facet of his physical essence, and sometimes—if he so chose—his own mental essence, as well. For this truism alone did he accept his fate, the perfect suffering.
Sitting on his rear, Zelgadis tried to focus on this fact of his life as he bled. The dagger was still plunged deep into his right eye, erratic heaves of blood and sickly optical expulsion sliding down the stony contours of his face. He felt as if he would vomit, but knew he couldn't. He choked down ichor and bile, clamping his teeth shut in a bloody grimace.
Rezo stood over him, his eyes closed, contemplating. "Hmm... yes, I suppose that will do for today."
Zelgadis would've made an effort to remove the dagger from his eye, but he knew that in doing such would result in another abrasion from the tall, blind Priest. Really there was probably some sort of irony in the situation as to being partially blinded by a blind man, Zelgadis figured in a moment of sick humor.
As Rezo gazed down at Zelgadis without his eyes, he pondered. After a moment, he turned and walked back to the organ.
The pair were alone in a large chapel, the ambience lush, sanguine, and gothic. Elaborate stained glass etched itself brilliantly as archaic tapestry of warped light, ebbing falsified colors into the cathedral. Empty pews sat ceremoniously around them, wrapping them in a cocoon of holy sanctity. Golden pyres of tempered metal stemmed along the walls from several different deified idols, blossoming downwards into the massive organ that Rezo sat in front of, and played with no small amount of skill.
A small wooden door opened abruptly on the far side of the room, and Lina, clothed in a Shrine Maiden's raiments, entered their chapel. Rezo paid her no mind as he played, and Zelgadis slowly turned his head to face her, despite the searing anguish that pleaded beyond reason for him to scream.
"Oh, God," Lina whispered breathlessly. "Zel!"
Discarding her procedural alimonies of paying proper respect to the High Priest Rezo, she fled to Zelgadis's side. "Oh, Man. Oh shit- Dammit, Zel... What the hell happened?"
Zelgadis chuckled bitterly, tasting his own violet blood in his mouth. "What does it look like? I got stabbed in the eye. Open and shut case."
(watch me do it)
Lina threw a venomous glare at Rezo. "That's not funny. He did it. Didn't he?"
Zelgadis struggled to sit up, as Rezo's rich, haunting organic melody continued to play. "Y-Yeah... Pretty sure that's what happened."
"Don't move. Seriously—Zel, stay, okay?" Lina said softly, touching his shoulder, kneeling next to him. "Don't get up. Stay."
He relented, lying back down against the carpet. "Ah, Lina," he groaned. "Sorry about this." He hissed through his teeth. "I got blood on your robes."
"I'm shattered. Who cares about that!" she whispered harshly. Her hands delicately touched his shoulders. "I'll cast a healing spell, 'kay?"
His hand shot out to stop her. "No."
She blinked, incredulous. "...What? At least let me take the dagger out!"
"No... don't."
"Damn you, Zel. Don't fight me."
(I can make it go away)
"Lina, dammit," he cursed, trying not to cry, "I... I can't, because... I... he says... I... damn, Lina..."
Lina bit her lip. "Zel, please..."
Zelgadis began to curl himself inwards. A rivulet of tears ran a jagged line down his broken face. "Lina, I..."
"It's okay, Zel," she pleaded softly. "Please let me help."
The whole world throbbed.
"Lina, I can't see you."
Closing her eyes for a moment, Lina struggled with all her might not to turn her pulverizing wrath upon the considerably more powerful High Priest as he played the organ. He had no right to do this, even if Zelgadis was his own grandson. He had no lesson to learn here except utter humility and shame. It was wrong. But, she knew, if she were to lash out, nothing good would come of it. In fact, it'd make things worse for both her and Zelgadis. She struggled with her own demons, pleading to herself for her own restraint.
Without a word, Lina reached forward, and withdrew the dagger from Zelgadis' eye. The blade pulled from its red tunnel with a wet grisly sound, and Zelgadis couldn't bite back the cry of agony that broke through him as his own blood trailed down his clothes in burning droplets. He covered his face in shame, humiliated for being who he was, his own mantra of pain shedding in fitful waves of anxiety.
"Lina, I'm sorry," he said, his voice strained. "You weren't supposed to see this. See me like this..."
"No, Zel," she whispered, pulling him closer, even though he would barely feel it. "Don't be. You haven't done anything wrong."
"I... I couldn't..." he tried, fighting so desperately against the tears, the pain, the organ, against Rezo's mere presence. "I couldn't make my bed today. I did it wrong."
Lina felt tears streaming down her face as she closed her eyes. "It's okay, Zel... I'll help you, next time. Just... I'll help. I won't let you be alone in this."
Falling down into a spiral of regret, loss, and abandon, Zelgadis felt himself bleeding away into
(and)
nothing could stop her hands from shaking. Lina's breath was gone, and her body was numb, but her hands wouldn't stop shaking. She simply couldn't come to terms with what was presented before her. Lina's mouth opened and closed as she began to rapidly scour her mind for words, hungrily, devouring every edge of her sanity like administrated fire, but nothing would escape her lips. Her throat tightened, but she couldn't feel it, and she wouldn't stop shaking.
"The phase-space pattern embedded in the spell has rejected her," one said. "It appears she alone isn't enough."
"No... perhaps she's too much."
Dark effigy of a shadowed anomaly blossomed flowers of emptiness around Lina, the world merely a single point of light enclosed in a void. She, herself, felt intangible, as if she had been disconnected from the world that was, is, and could be. Escaping into distorted black, nothing existed except for this, here, now. And she didn't want it. Aside from absolute darkness and her own faded existence, three individuals were before her. Surrounded by a murky pseudo-light, two of them stood over the other, their faces masked behind inky shadows.
A cold, metal table was situated between the two tall, standing men, and lying atop of that table was Lina, herself.
(she rejects me, because she rejects herself)
Naked, unashamed, and comatose, Lina gazed in horror at her own self, sprawled atop of the table, gazing up into nothing with empty eyes. Her shadow-self made no movement, and Lina could only wonder if her supposed reflection was even alive. The two men were adorned in white cloaks that shielded them from individuality and recognition, and they seemed almost mechanical, lifeless.
"Maybe you're right. Her power, it is beyond what we expected," the first said. "Those before her who were capable of summoning the Lord into physical form weren't rejected by the phase-space."
"She reacted far too intensely. Perhaps she is simply mentally unstable."
Lina brought her hands to her mouth, absently trying to bite her knuckles, screaming inside for some sort of feeling to return. Numbness reigned, shattering willpower and sense of place. She was underwater, watching the world through a dream, one that was tangible, real; yet impossible.
"Don't look at me..." she finally murmured, her own words painful.
"I suppose, then, that the experiment failed," the first spoke again, ignoring Lina. "The delirium, the burst of pent up antipathy, the rejection of the Type DM protoceleration antitype... it all points to a state of premature interception neurosis. I think right now she's caught inside the layers between dimensions. A shame; she had promise. She would have been a wonderful vessel for our Lord."
"Agreed. It's unfortunate, but we'll probably have to scrap the whole experiment. Her mind will probably decay at an extremely rapid pace... Only divine intervention could pull her back."
The first man sighed, turning his attention to a clipboard. "Then it's official. We'll classify the prototype as a failure. Further stimulation of the cerebellum will result in the total deconstruction of the logic nodes, as well as the axon formulation. Her physical body will burn out if we don't begin to disconnect her from the phase-space. She can't assimilate with the spell's entity anymore."
Lina felt cold.
(I can show you this, because)
At least it was something.
"Negative disruption of chaotic energies, antipathy burst, insufficient cranial management. The subject lapsed into a state of psychosis, before slipping into catatonic shock. She doesn't even realize we're here," the first man spoke, jotting notes on his clipboard. "Or maybe she does, but she can't articulate it."
"What will her Mother say?" the second asked.
"I don't know, but we can't make an exception, simply because she's top brass. The concept was to adjust her parameters and draw out her own innate abilities, but it will truly destroy her mind. She has to know."
"She's dead to this world. It's out of our hands now."
(standing inside your own shadow)
Slowly, softly, the men and her own dead self began to fade away. Gently, Lina felt a warmth spreading through her body, melting the numb sensation of nothing, peacefully drifting her towards sleep. Blissful escapism soothed Lina down, the world slowly unraveling into curtains of release, as darkness everywhere became a cradle and then she
(and)
closed the wooden cupboards excitedly. Sunlight spilled in eagerly from a drab window above the kitchen sink, pacifying the cozy atmosphere. Lina grinned exuberantly as she tied her long hair behind her head in a ponytail, and then readjusted her navy apron. It had been a while since she had actually gotten to cook anything, mostly because she really wasn't all that good at it. All the same, though, learning how to make her own meals was something that she found to be quite attractive, for most obvious reasons. Learning from the best food artist she had ever known was also a plus, too.
"Okay, Miss Lina," Sylphiel said softly, placing a large cutting board on top of the counter. "First, we'll need to skin the potatoes."
"Can do!" Lina replied, reaching for the sack of potatoes.
Sylphiel couldn't help but smile at Lina's energetic attitude—the girl was darn stubborn, but she was awfully fun to be with when she was in a good mood. It hadn't been too long that the pair had known each other, but Lina had made such an impact on Sylphiel and her father that it seemed like this was the way that it always was. It had been a dark, stormy night when Lina had dragged her beaten and grimy self onto her doorstop, and ever since then, Lina had become almost part of the family.
(Lina, I... I can't see)
Taking a large bowl, Lina poured a generous helping of potatoes into it, before placing the sack back on the ground. She moved the bowl in between the pair so that they could both help themselves and work together, which made the whole task all the more fun. Also, Lina would have to do less work that way. It was kind of a no-brainer, really.
Sylphiel handed Lina a small knife. "Here, Miss Lina. Careful not to cut yourself."
"Hah, that'll be the day," Lina joked, taking the knife. "I'm a genius swordswoman. I think I can stickhandle my way around a potato peeler."
"So you say," Sylphiel replied softly with a smile.
The two of them set out to work, Sylphiel having a much easier time at the task than Lina. Despite her boastings and talk, Lina really didn't have a clue as to what she was doing, while Sylphiel was truly an old hand. Nonetheless, the two enjoyed the task.
"So, Miss Lina, have you heard any word on where Mr. Gourry is?" Sylphiel chatted.
"Nope," Lina replied, slowly working her way around the spud. "Man, I haven't heard from Gourry in years. I haven't even asked around in a few months."
"Oh, really? I thought that was why you were on the road?"
"It was, originally."
Sylphiel looked over at her friend. "Oh? Originally? Not anymore?"
Lina shrugged. "Things change. Times change. People change."
"Do you not wish to find him?"
"Of course I wanna find him!" Lina assured hotly. "I still wanna beat the crap out of the ol' noodle-head for taking off in the first place!"
Sylphiel nodded, grabbing another potato. "I see. So, you have no intention of asking him to come back?"
"Well, I dunno," Lina said slowly, scratching her leg with her toe. "It all depends on why he left in the first place. He left three years ago, Sylphiel. That's a long time. And Gourry was never the type to just walk out on someone. If anything he was loyal."
"Or so you thought," Sylphiel added.
"No, I'm sure of that," Lina countered. "That might be the one single rule of Gourry's universe. Gourry was such a great guy, but honestly Sylphiel, he was hardly the most complex puzzle ever put together. He was really easy to read, once you got to know him... which took all of two seconds, mostly. If he left, I'm sure he had a damn good reason."
"Then... why are you doubting your journey after him?"
Lina sighed. "I don't know. I guess... like I said, three years is a long time. And, I won't lie. It really hurts. I sometimes wonder if it was my fault, if I did something. Or sometimes I wonder if he felt he wasn't good enough for me, or something—he was like that, sometimes. And then there's me. I can't tell you how disappointed I am in myself for chasing after a guy for three years. That isn't right, Sylphiel. It's not. It isn't who I am."
Sylphiel nodded, facing her friend.
Lina looked at her. "I-I don't know, really. I guess part of me doesn't really want to find out why. I want him to come back, but I don't really want to find him and learn that he's never coming back... you know? Then I'd have to look at myself and see what I'd turned into—for nothing."
(in another place)
Sylphiel smiled supportively, and placed her hand softly on Lina's shoulder.
(in another time)
"Well, Miss Lina, whatever happens, know that you'll always be welcome here, and that I really respect you for what you are and what you've done."
(I knew you)
Lina chuckled. "Well, thanks. I already knew you'd caught wind of my awesomeness, but it's still cool to hear you say it."
Sylphiel giggled.
(you were another man)
"But, hey," Lina said, still upbeat. "I've gotta respect you, Sylphiel. I mean, look at you. You're really going somewhere, and you're really someone special. You've really got stuff to put your heart into. You're so... together."
(but I said I'd find you, and)
Sylphiel laughed. "Oh, Miss Lina, you do me too much honor!"
Lina stopped, and slowly lowered her knife as she gazed out the window blankly. She shook her head. "Whoa, weird."
"Hmm? What is it?"
(one day, you'll be asleep in my arms, again)
Taking a moment to collect herself, Lina turned to face Sylphiel, her eyes inquisitive. "Call me crazy, but... doesn't this conversation seem familiar to you?"
Sylphiel blinked. "Um... no, not really. What makes you say that?"
"I don't know," the redhead replied honestly. "It just seems like I've said these things to you before. Like we've stood here, in this place... or, maybe, another place just like this... and we've said these things to each other. Like Déjà vu, only not. Stronger."
(this is the catalyst, the stirring within my soul, when I see you again, because I'll know that)
"Hmm," Sylphiel replied, shaking her head. "Honestly, I can't say I feel the same. Perhaps I'm just a little bit tired this morning, and can't notice the similarities of another conversation we've had."
Lina chuckled, embarrassed. "Ah, I'm sorry. I'm being stupid over here, Sylphiel."
"No, don't be concerned over it," Sylphiel replied with a smile, returning to her task. "I'm sure you're being anything but stupid."
The gentle warmth of morning continued to seep through the window as they returned to preparing the food. Between the two, there was a welcome
(and)
silence was shattered just as the rotting planks of wood as she crashed through them face first. Lina felt her lip split open as she fell through the boards and onto the soft dirt, crimson fluid quickly seeping from the laceration. Her body ached from the impact, and her encroached surroundings provided her no comfort of flight or respite. Trying to push away all essence of fear and anticipation towards the inevitable pain, Lina thrashed her lithe form so she was facing her attacker, although she made no movement to counter.
"You just don't want to listen to me, do you, Lina?"
Lina swallowed, backing further into the small shed. "I-I'm sorry, sis. Please, don't hit me anymore, I'll—"
"Lina, shut the fuck up. I'm the one talking," Luna Inverse seethed, standing over the much smaller—and weaker—Lina Inverse. "Do you have some sort of issues with obeying my rules?"
"N-No, sis, please—"
Luna's fist lashed out violently, cracking against Lina's nose with a moist crunch, snapping her head back. "I said SHUT UP!"
As her head hit the ground harshly behind her, Lina cried out in agony, wishing to any god that would hear her that she could have a different sister, a different situation—a different life. But it was not to be, as Luna stepped off of the grass from the edge of their small home and into the shed, reached down and grabbed Lina by the throat and lifted her into the air.
Blood flowed freely from Lina's nose and mouth, but Lina couldn't do anything to prevent it. Luna's acidic glare penetrated Lina's yawing fear.
"Just to refresh your memory: since Mom and Dad died, Lina, I'm in charge of this house. Remember?"
(it's okay, please, don't cry, it'll be okay)
Lina couldn't reply, as her sister's vice-grip was choking her throat, so she merely nodded as tears streamed freely down her face. There was nothing in this world that Lina feared more than her sister, because her sister was ruthlessly unstoppable.
"Good, glad you remembered," Luna said. "Now, with this knowledge in mind, when I tell you to clean your room before I get back from work, what does that mean?"
Lina tried to breathe.
Luna paused before speaking. "That means that I expect your room to BE FUCKING CLEANED WHEN I GET BACK FROM WORK!"
(I'm here, even though you can't see me, so don't cry)
Squeezing her younger sisters almost brittle throat for a moment, Luna snorted in disgust and threw Lina harshly to the side, causing the younger sorceress to crash through the wooden wall of the shed unceremoniously. Broken shards of lumber, nails, and shattered glass fell to the ground, Lina crashing into the ground amid a debris-cloud. Twisted splinters and warped nails pierced into her skin violently, pinpricks of blood seeping from her multiple puncture wounds. Luna walked around to Lina, and glared down at her.
Lina was crying, facedown in the dirt. "Please, sis, don't... I'm sorry..."
"Do you think I like doing this shit to you?" Luna growled. "Do you think I like having to beat the living fuck out of my little sister?"
(sometimes, I just want to hold you and make everything go away except us)
Lina didn't reply, as she merely curled herself into a ball and tried to force her reality away, so that Luna would leave with it. She had the ability to heal herself, of course, but she was just simply too scared to even think of applying that power at that moment. Luna stood patiently, waiting for an answer, but found that she wasn't going to get one. After a long moment of incredibly unpleasant silence between the two siblings, Luna sighed.
(I want to breathe you)
"Lina, I'm going inside. Clean up this fucking mess. I'll heal you later."
With that, Luna turned around and began to walk back to the house, leaving Lina lying desperately alone in the grass and mud, bleeding and broken. There wasn't a single thing in the world that could break Lina—other than Luna. She could face any monster, any threat, any punishment, any pain, and it would all be trivial in comparison in the face of Luna Inverse. Lina wasn't exactly sure why Luna scared her so much—it wasn't like she couldn't just heal any injury she received. But it was a question she'd never find and answer to. Alone, Lina slowly gathered herself and picked herself up, and limped back to what remained of the
(and)
wooden door slowly, being careful not to be too noisy. The rain still methodically fell against the roof of the large cabin, and Gourry was soaking wet, but he still had to be slow. If he were too quick, she'd hear him and that would give away the element of surprise, the most important part. Carefully, being sure to give a quick survey of the small living room to be certain she didn't know he was home yet, he shut the front door behind him. Swallowing, Gourry pried his boots off with his feet, making certain to keep the bouquet of flowers in his hands as steady as possible. She couldn't know, not yet.
Tiptoeing with grace and precision that came with so many years of swordplay, the tall blond man made his way over to their room, being careful not to disturb the delicate floorboards. Gourry wasn't a bright man, not by a long shot, but he'd maneuvered around the cabin enough times to know which boards creaked and which ones didn't. Again, a testament to being a meticulous surgeon of melee—he was required to know his surroundings.
(ah, but then, I see you now)
Scarlet roses bloomed fantastically from their stems, and Gourry took notice not to prick himself on the thorns that lay just underneath the thin layer of cloth that held them together. He shifted them into his left hand as he opened the door to their room with his right, and peered in suspiciously. The bed was empty; that meant that she was awake. Quickly, his eyes darted to the side of the room, and he saw her, sitting in her favorite chair, in front of the window.
He smiled, and had to stop to appreciate her for what she was, right then.
Her back was to him, and her elbows were propped up on the windowsill. Her flowing fire-locks of hair billowed like celestial flames rolling off a star, and he found himself being captivated by them. Her gaze, caught in the window's reflection, was wistful, as it usually was when she sat in that spot. Despite the rain that pattered incessantly against the very window in front of her, she always found some strange pleasure of watching the world just outside of their room, even under the deluge of a cold autumn afternoon. A solitude and gentleness that contradicted everything he knew about her.
Slowly, Gourry crept forward, once again hovering precariously as to not disturb those tenuous floorboards that would ruin everything. He stepped softly on the carpet, growing closer and closer to her, as she sat in oblivious bliss. He smiled. It was really going to work.
"Hey, Gourry," she said, without turning.
Gourry was crestfallen. She knew he was there. He sighed. "Hi."
"Heard'ja come in," she spoke softly.
Shrugging, Gourry walked up to her so she was sitting below him. "Yeah. Sorry if I disturbed you."
"No, of course not," she replied, turning in her chair to face him. "If you did, I—"
She paused as she caught sight of the roses he held in his hands, just for her. She looked up at him. "Gourry...?" She smiled. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume those are for me?"
Gourry grinned. So it was still something of a surprise. "Yep. Happy anniversary, Lina."
Lina grinned, standing. "Jeez... You crazy jellyfish. You shouldn't have."
Gourry blinked. "You don't want them?"
(because you were here with me, I could sleep)
"No. Of course I want them, stupid!" she cried, grabbing them before he could change his mind.
He grinned, proud of himself. "Okay, good then."
"Mmm, they're so pretty," Lina commented, smelling them. "And I don't even really like flowers. This was sweet of you."
"Well, I know how mad you got last year when I kinda forgot and all," Gourry admitted. "So I thought it would be a dumb idea to do that again."
"You damn well better believe it would've been dumb," she replied with a smile, delicately laying the flowers on her dresser. "You're lucky you could even walk after that."
Gourry rubbed his shoulder absently. He hadn't exactly forgotten about that particular memory.
With a playful smile, Lina sauntered over to Gourry, and placed her small hands on his broad chest. "So, Gourry... got any other plans in mind for today? Any other interesting surprises that I should be aware of?"
He shook his head. "Nope. Really, that was all I had in mind."
Lina grinned fiendishly. "Okay, then."
Before Gourry could say anything, Lina reached around his neck and pulled his face down towards hers, and kissed him. He melted into her, the way that he always did, and slowly wrapped his strong arms around her back. She was soft, she was warm, she was Lina, she was his. Slowly, without breaking their kiss, he lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the bed, and set her down so that they were at the same level. He lay down next to her, kissing her again.
(I wanted to stay with you)
Caught within the amorphous flow of passion, Lina's delicate hands slid down the fabric of his shirt before sliding underneath and untucking it from his pants. Her hands softly touching his skin, roaming up his muscular stomach. Her fingers creased him effortlessly as she wrapped her arms around him again from inside his shirt, and she slid her fingertips along the ridge of his spine with ghostly movements—touching him as softly as he touched her.
(I guess we can stay together)
Gourry opened his eyes as they broke the kiss for a moment, simply gazing into Lina's eyes as she continued to touch him, and he shivered from an apparition of euphoria. "Lina, I need you."
Lina smiled. "I know you do, Gourry."
(you and me)
"I need you, too."
(no one else, just the two of us)
Gourry kissed her softly. "I love you, Lina."
(even if I leave, I'll find you, no matter where you go)
Lina giggled, faintly kissing his chin while rubbing his back rhythmically. "Ah, Gourry... I love you."
(because I'm always with you)
Closing his eyes, Gourry pulled her closer to him as they lay on the bed, kissing her strongly. Their emotion was their power, and at that moment, there wasn't anyone else in the entire world other than them. Everything else simply
(and)
stopped, and Lina couldn't see anything anymore. She felt warm, so warm, too warm. There was someone singing somewhere. It was all black, but somehow it was all perfect. An eternity inside wonderful terror. She felt utterly complete, content, real. An overwhelming peace that was so tangible, she almost cried. The Giga Slave had been cast, she had faded away, but the world was safe. Gourry was safe. Her friends were safe. She knew this, because the Lord of Nightmares knew this.
(I told you, I'm here)
A form appeared before her.
"Who are you?" Lina asked, feeling a strange serenity within herself.
(Darkness beyond the Darkest Pitch)
A dark pulse ebbed into Lina's mind, but she wasn't afraid—it comforted her. She felt so tired. "Ah... I know. I... I know now."
(he's waiting for you)
(he's calling out to you)
(you and no one else)
Lina was crying. "Yeah... I guess he is, isn't he? It's... it's really over, isn't it? I saved him..."
(I feel like something... important happened in there)
(yeah... me too)
Lina laughed through her tears. "Oh, man, I'm so tired..."
(stand in another shadow)
(sleep)
Suddenly, it was all real. Everything in the world was real, and it all mattered. Everything was important in a single instant, and Lina couldn't stop herself from sobbing uncontrollably. But they weren't tears of grief—she was merely being washed away into something more, a better person, a stronger sense of place. She suddenly realized who she was, who her friends were, what they wanted, and what it meant to have desire. Clarity resonated within her like the perfection of absolute light, and she was shedding that who she used to be.
"I'm silly," she sobbed, laughing. "I didn't think I could be this happy. I didn't think getting lost would be so wonderful."
(just sleep, and forget)
Lina closed her eyes, welcoming the warmth for what it was. Darkness.
"...Sleep..."
(after all this time)
Sweet bliss, sunshine, oblivion, slumber—it wrapped itself around her with angelic wings, and then she flew into cerulean waters, everything washing away.
(he finally found you)
The last sensation was warm.
x x x x x
Lina!
maybe you're stubborn, but
Lina, I
I can't see you, Lina
I need you, but
ahh...
Lina, don't go, because
I'm weaker than you, and
Lina, I'm here
see you anymore, Lina
sort of perverse, but I need you
I can't see your charm, Lina
don't look
Lina...
down on me anymore, Lina...
anymore
Lina
ahh
I can't and I need you and I can't and I have to and I need you and Lina and please and don't go and I can't see you Lina and perverse and stubborn and see and Lina and please and Lina and because Lina I can't see and sleep and ahh
and