He still felt it.
All alone, even though he had everything he could ever ask for, he felt that same, familiar alone-ness that plagued his dreams.
Zavier had been living with his mentor, master, and father for a couple of centuries now, and he really couldn't be more cared-for than he was when Chaos was with him. The creator of the universe had always tried to get him to call him father, but Zavier had always refused, for some reason. It just always felt right, to call Chaos "Master."
He could still remember everything so clearly. His very first memories was of a icy cold sensation, and the organ-freezing, crashing waves of the river of Forgetfulness. Chaos didn't really mind that he knew—he'd always told Zavier that he'd been somebody, before he was who he was now. But his master never, ever told him who that somebody was. And Zavier was okay with that—somehow, it felt right. It felt like that somebody who he had been should stay buried forever, and it was okay.
But, perhaps, that somebody he'd been was where this feeling, of complete and utter loneliness, came from. Alone, completely, utterly, alone—yet he was surrounded with love from his father, creator, and master. Chaos. Yet that feeling, that alone-ness, stayed. And it was this feeling that made Zavier who he was now.
Five centuries, and now, he was physically fourteen years old. He had no idea what the age of his soul was, however. Chaos wouldn't tell him that, either.
When he'd climbed out of that so-cold river of nothing but icy water and lost memories, Chaos had been right there. His master had solidified him, given him a body that would never be tainted and would never be affected by natural casualties, such as death—because it wasn't a body at all. And that made all the difference. Chaos had taken him in, to his home, Vincitore Annullare. He'd never been allowed to leave the Palace before, and he didn't have any friends or relationships with anyone but Chaos yet—he'd spent the past centuries he'd existed polishing his training and skills given to him by his master to perfections, and mastering his emotions. That would change, now, though. Chaos was going to show him his army, and his Council of Lieutenants. And he was to be the Commander—but that position would be given to him in a few centuries more. Right now, he was just going to meet them.
Zavier had mastered his emotions in under two centuries, and had had three hundred years to perfect that art. For some reason, he'd seen Chaos looking slightly down whenever the Creator couldn't get any reaction out of him—Zavier was as emotionless as a cold, stone statue without a face. It helped that he kept his face hidden, he supposed. Chaos had spent about three decades trying to teach Zavier Latin, which was one of his base languages, but Zavier had insisted on master Japanese before anything else—he'd grown a liking for it, and switched into ti on accident when he was speaking at time, which wasn't very often, in fact. Now, he was fluent in every language of the Universe—well, he still had two or three that he was still a bit shaky in, but those were some of the old, almost forgotten ones.
Zavier's favorite color was black. It was the color of the Void, his home, his safe-place, and his master. He wore a pitch black cloak that was clasped around his shoulders with a clasp styled in a crescent moon that curved around a single star—the logo of Chaos's Army. The cloak's hood was always pulled over his head, shadowing the top half of his face. Under the cloak, he wore form fitting black cargo pants that were made out of an unnamed material that had the feel of denim, but was stronger than titanium. He wore a black vest made out of what might have been mistaken for Kevlar if it wasn't tougher than steel, over a white turtleneck. Black gloved made out of the same material as his vest covered his hands, wrists, and forearms up to his elbows. On his feet, he wore plain, black boots with steel toes.
Over the years, his physical appearance had changed due to the influxes of power he'd been training. His eyes were still that electrical blue, yet they were like Chaos's own—mini galaxies, and he had neither pupils or an iris when he was using his abilities. When he wasn't doing anything, there was a silver rings that serves as his iris, yet still no pupils. Instead of black expanses of space, his eyes were completely blue, with fields of stars. As for Zavier's skin, it was a light cocoa, slightly ashen. He had a black, tattoo like mark on his neck, of the same sign that was on his cloak's clasp—marking him as Chaos's own.
He stuck like glue to his creator's side, fingers clenching Chaos's own cloak as they both vanished from sight, only to reappear in the Council's war chamber. Zavier had in his master's shadow, trying his best not to be seen—he could have sworn he caught Chaos rolling his eyes, but no one could be too sure.
Chaos clapped his hands together. Everyone in the room—which included all eleven Lieutenants, their seconds, and a few workers and soldiers(altogether, a group of about thirty or so)—turned their immediate attention to their him. Zavier shrank back even more. He was certain most of them couldn't see him—his senses told him so.
"Greetings, my children." Chaos smiled. They all smiled back at him in greeting. Everyone in the army was of exceptional skill, and immortal—a gift from Chaos. They all were under the age of twenty five in physical appearance.
"Good morning, Lord Chaos." The eleven Lieutenants bowed deeply, and the others followed their example.
"I have brought someone here to meet you." Chaos went on, and everyone looked to him with interest. "He is very important and powerful. The second most powerful being in the Universe, in fact." They all brightened, eyes widening. "But you must treat him with care," The Creator winked at them. "Has been training with me for the past five centuries, and has had absolutely no contact whatsoever with anyone but me in that time."
"What's his name?" The Third Lieutenant, Izbelliea Davionne asked, making a show of herself as she looked around wildly for the one Chaos was talking about. The Lieutenant standing next to her, the Fifth, named Jardonius Fulbeischter, snickered.
"His name is Zavier Nadir." Chaos told them. Zavier was still plastered to his side like a wet sheet of paper on a extremely windy day, and Chaos finally managed to pry him off. The fourteen-year-old boy shied back from the stares that were instantly directed at him, so Chaos held up a hand. "Children, what did I say?" He raised an eyebrow.
They tried to keep their stares away.
Zavier reached out to grasp Chaos's cloak again, and the Creator sighed. "Anyway, I'm going to leave him here for about an hour or so," Zavier's unseen eyes widened. "Xanxus," he told the First Lieutenant. "I want you to give him a tour of the base. Alright?"
The black haired teen nodded. Xanxus Spaede had the physical appearance of a sixteen year old, with soft black hair in small spikes. He had multiple scars running over his body, including his face, but you couldn't even see them unless you looked hard enough. His eyes were a crimson brown, and his hair was styled back in a slight tail, tied with a band that had a few feathers hooked on it. "Sure thing, Boss." Chaos grinned.
Zavier looked slightly panicked, so Xanxus did his best to soothe him as Chaos left. "Hey, kid. It's all cool." Zavier called upon his emotions and reigned them in, bringing up his blank mask once more. He looked curiously up at Xanxus, who was staring down at him with a smile. He made a gesture with his hand,, and one pointed look later, everyone else was trying their utmost best to get back to whatever they were doing before. Xanxus held out a hand t him. Zavier examined it with puzzlement, tilting his head. Xanxus withdrew it with a blush. "Heheh, sorry. You probably don't know what that's for. C'mon, lemme show you around." He headed out of the room, Zavier following at a slowed pace.
Three weeks later, Xanxus was officially Zavier's overprotective big brother. No one knows how this came about, it just happened. Zavier gained a best friend in the Fifth, Jardonius, and the Seventh Lieutenant, a three thousand year old boy from the subterranean planet Evras, who had the physical appearance of a seventeen-year-old, named Draek Fin'hata. The Sixth, a pretty girl with dark red hair and blue-tinted skin from the planet shrouded in the night, Nocht, went by the name Nixt Tallabi, and harbored an intense crush on Zavier, along with a small, yet growing, group of soldiers—which contained privates, sergeants, and generals from all planets.
The Eight Lieutenant, a Texan with the physical age of a eighteen year old named Dustin Johnson, was an extremely friendly guy who spoke in the slightly slow, accented drawl of a western cowboy, though he'd been in Vincitore Annullare for over thirteen centuries now.
Jasminta Darshal, a copper skinned, purple eyed, white-haired native of the planet called Zirch, which was covered in glowing vegetation and animal life, was the Fourth Lieutenant. She has a dark personality, and loved humor just as shadowed, though she had a soft spot for fluffy animals and things with glowing attributes. She was a part of Zavier's growing fan club due to his eyes, which she'd seen glowing through the shadows of his hood.
The Ninth Lieutenant was a twenty-year-old(looking) Italian boy from the planet Italius, which had been created when Chaos had fallen in love with the country of Italy in his pride and joy, planet Earth. The Ninth's name was Giotto Dino.
Vultri Bermu was the Tenth Lieutenant. He was a cute little thingl with bright blue hair, colorless eyes, and black skin, along with bleach white shark teeth. He came from the planet Vindxu, which half covered in lava and molten volcanic activity, and half flooded with oceans, the only land being small island continents on both sides.
The Eleventh was a white haired, extremely pale skinned boy named Caiden Eleven. He had been disowned by his family, so he had no last name, instead taking up his position for it. He had a case of amnesia that Chaos thought best not to cure, so they didn't know which planet he hailed from. He had bright blue eyes, almost as bright as Zavier's own, though they were normal and only twinkled slightly with Caiden's kindness and genuine care for everything around him. Caiden and Zavier had a close relationship for only three weeks, and Draek and Jardonius, commonly called Jardon, were always complaining how he would replace them.
Zavier was slightly more comfortable with interacting with the other's now, though he still tended to gravitate toward Chaos's side whenever his master was near. He still shied away from any touching, however, and Chaos decided, after a months or two or no touching, that there might be something wrong.
So he decided to do an experiment. He took Zavier, Caiden, and Draek to a empty room in the palace, and had Zavier take off one of his gloves. The young immortal did so cautiously, watching them all with furrowed brows—not that they could see of course. Then, Chaos had Caiden grasp Zavier's arm lightly.
Zavier whimpered at the touch, wanting to draw away from it. Caiden frowned in concern and pulled his hand back. Chaos then examined Zavier's skin closely. It was slightly red in the area Caiden had touched.
Caiden's eyes widened. "D-Did I do that? I'm so sorry, Zavier, I didn't—!"
"Hush." Chaos told him, and the fifteen-year-old-looking boy shut up, staring at his new friend worriedly. Chaos then instructed Draek to touch Zavier's arm, and the older boy did so with fear in his golden-tinted eyes. About five seconds after his hand made contact, Zavier let out a a pain-filled yell and jerked back from them. Draek jumped backwards with wide eyes, eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Wh-what did I—"
"Hush," Chaos said sternly, and the teen did. They watched as Chaos ran his cool fingers over the burn marks in the shape of Draek's hand that now covered Zavier's hand. Blue light shone, and the injuries were gone, though Zavier still dove for his glove, slid it back on, and cradled his arm to his chest, staring at them in slight fear.
"Why did I hurt Zai more than Caiden did?" Draek asked him once Chaos motioned for the teen to continue, using their nickname for Zavier.
"It seems that Zavier trusts Caiden slightly more than you, Draek. Sorry."
Draek turned slightly hurt eyes toward Zavier, who bowed his head. "G-Gomen." Zavier told him in Japanese, apologizing. Draek shook his head. "No, no, it's okay. I mean, we just met two months ago, so I know it's gonna be hard adjusting is all." he gave the younger boy a smile. "And, well, Caid's just easier to trust, I get it. But what I wanna know is why we hurt you in the first place." The three teens looked over at Chaos.
The Creator sat down in a nearby chair. "It seems that Zavier has a condition that only affects the rare young immortal, and is incurable." Caiden and Draek's eyes widened even more, slight horror shining in their eyes. "It is called Shinrai Shinai, ironically Japanese. It's when the distrust that one hold for everyone and everything is transitioned into a physical connection. When Zavier makes skin contact with someone he doesn't trust wholeheartedly, he will be burned. I suppose this is my fault," here, the Creator lowered his head, silky black locks shadowing his eyes. "I should have raised Zavier in an environment with more people instead of locking him away. Maybe then he wouldn't have trust issues."
"Kodoku..." Zavier whispered, and they all turned to him in concern.
"Are you alright, Zai?" Caiden asked worriedly.
"What did you say?" Draek asked, then he turned to Chaos. "What did he say?"
Chaos sighed. He supposed that word would spread, and now all the relations Zavier had made within the army would be even more protective of him than they were already showing signs of being. Then he looked over at Zavier. "Kodoku—Japanese for "loneliness." Zavier, what do you mean?"
Zavier blushed slightly at Chaos's attention, though he was used to it, he still felt better when his master paid mind to him. "Th-the alone-ness feeling. I don't think it's your fault, Master. The loneliness has always been there, I think it passed over to me from the somebody I was before I was me." Caiden and Draek tilted their heads in unison.
Chaos's face smoothed out in understanding. "Ah. Right." He turned towards the other "Gather up the Council together, and I'll tell you all Zavier's story. Zavier cannot hear, however." Zavier nodded.
"Hai. Hearing my past life will hurt me and also the somebody I used to be, Master says. I don't want more bad dreams." He looked at Chaos, and the Creator nodded. "Yes, go to your room," he smiled wryly. Zavier titled his head forward in acknowledgment, before disappearing from existence, into the Void, and reappearing in his room.
He tightened his cloak around himself like a blanket and collapsed onto his bed, curling in on himself. Ever since Chaos had introduced him to the army, and the Council, he'd lost that safe, warm feeling he'd always had, aside from the loneliness. After every day, he ended up in his room in the nights, curled up into a small ball, trying to feel warm again.
Because, really, it was so, so cold.
Alright. I only have one thing to say... O_O I found a fish bone in my tuna. Wtf? That's never happened before...
Oh, and, REVIEW!~ Please? ^ ^
~Scylar X.
