:: Illusions ::

~Sorcerous Stabber Orphen~

Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters. Rights go to Sawada Hajime, Akita Yoshinobu and ADVision.

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: Orphen/Majik, Majik+Killiranshelo, Cleao+Majik

Warnings: AU, violence, language, shounen ai, strangeness

Notes: Meh. Everyone's disappearing in this fandom. *shakes her head* Mina-sensei's seemed to have disappeared off the planet altogether. O_o Where are you people??

Eh. *shrug* Here's the next part, finally. And my med's are kicking in big time; I can barely see what I'm typing. Should sleep now. Yes. Sleep is good… Mmm…

She should have been happy. She should have been... So why wasn't she?

Cleao had been agonizing this over the past two days. Ever since Majik had uttered those three words -- "I release you," -- she had wondered and worried over just one question: Why? Surely he gained nothing by releasing her of the vampiric bond and refusing to take part of the Silver Moon under Flameheart's orders... did he?

None of it made sense. For the undead life of her, she simply couldn't figure out why he'd free her. It was so secret Majik hated her and wanted to punish her in his own twisted -- though justifiable -- way.

It just didn't make sense.

She sighed, glancing at the closed door. He hadn't come back, not since that day. She had lost all traces of him, and at the moment Flameheart was absolutely livid. Azalea was doing her best to find him, and even Adrial was pitching in.

But Majik, it seemed, had disappeared without a trace. She hadn't even seen him at school.

Cleao brought a hand to her face, stifling another sigh. 'And then there had been that run-in with his teacher...'

That had been most interesting. After school just that afternoon, Cleao had been called to Mr. Burns' classroom. She had assumed he wanted someone to give Majik's homework to him, and she was supposedly his sibling. Cleao had gone, making up excuses for a bombard of questions she was sure she was going to receive.

Mr. Burns' had been surprisingly pleasant. He was reputed to be a strict, cold-blooded teacher. "At ease," he'd said the moment she came in. Obliging, Cleao had taken a seat near his desk...

The old man smiled a strange smile. His eyes were a shockingly deep colour of green, and they pierced her, making her nervous. "Well, Miss Cleao Kaughten. You are Kevin's sister, I assume?"

"Yes, sir."

His smile had broadened. "I see. Then may I safely assume you're also his partner in the Silver Moon?" Cleao had gasped, her eyes enlarging to impossible widths. How had he gotten that information? That hadn't been a part of the papers she'd filled out for the school!

"At ease, Miss Cleao," Mr. Burns chuckled. "I thought you knew by now. Kevin never told you I had a strange aura?"

"He did," she whispered faintly. Then she did a double take. "Ah... sir, his name is Majik."

"Majik," Mr. Burns repeated, eyes dimming slightly. "So it's true, then, that he's disappeared."

"Yes, sir."

"And that not even you have found him, despite his power over you?"

"He released me, sir." Cleao became suspicious. "And if you worked for Master Flameheart, you would know that. You're with Childman, aren't you?"

"I am an ally," Mr. Burns agreed without hesitation. "And whatever loyalty you have for your master, whatever you have left at all, I want you to set it aside for the time being. I have much to explain." His eyes narrowed; the look sent shivers down her spine. Surely he wasn't human! He was allied with Childman, so he was likely to be a magic-user. Either out of favouritism or sheer coincidence, many of Childman's allies and students were magic practicers, such as mages, witches, warlocks, and even a few sorcerers. Added to that were the less human creatures, such as elves, sprites, unicorns -- who could change into man forms when needed -- and fairies.

But to put aside her loyalties to Flameheart... Cleao realized that it would be easy to do. After all, he would never know this conversation had happened, and only her former ties to Majik and now her oath to Flameheart were all that held her to him. She had no respect for him whatsoever.

Cleao nodded firmly. "I can do that, sir."

Mr. Burns smiled. "Very good, Miss Cleao." He leaned forward, and fort he first time Cleao noted a strangely shaped scar beside his right eye. "Listen closely, for I don't want a single word of this to miss your keen vampiric senses.

"You know that, at the moment, Childman and Flameheart are in a subtle battle for power. Obviously, Childman is that much better as he knows more of the white magic arts, correct?" Cleao nodded. "But the way this works is whoever has more allied power at his disposal shall be the winner. That way there's no useless bloodshed like there had to be in the past to choose a great sorcerer. And, that way, we don't have to lose another great sorcerer that would do fine in a lower rank. Correct?"

This was all review for Cleao. "Yes, sir."

"Childman possesses a subtle charm and sense of justice that Flameheart lacks. Flameheart gives people no good reason to ally with him, thus why his resources are few-- or so they seem. Correct?"

Cleao blinked, puzzled. "So they seem?" she echoed.

Mr. Burns raised a bushy eyebrow. "Doesn't Flameheart have much of the Demon race at his disposal?"

The blonde paled and started, clutching the edges of the desk she was sitting at. "What-- how--?!"

Bemused, he remarked, "You'd make the perfect person to interrogate. You're too jumpy."

Cleao flushed with embarrassment. 'It's because Majik's made me so nervous for the past two hundred years,' she thought, though it had no bitterness behind it. She still believed she'd deserved everything she'd gotten, and even now still believed she hadn't fully paid the price for ruining the poor boy's life, his outlook, his chastity...

Mr. Burns waved the small matter aside. "Childman knows for sure that Flameheart has these Demons at his disposal. However, they seem to be missing a key factor."

"Killiranshelo," she supplied.

The older man nodded. "Apparently when the demons sided with Flameheart, he rebelled and was cast out. But this was before they realized his true power. They'd overlooked it before, dismissing the signs for eccentrics..." He smirked. "Do you know what this particular Demon can do, Miss Cleao?"

"No, sir." She knew he was strong, especially as far as Demons went, but other than that she knew nothing.

"He can merge with human beings."

Cleao stared. A normal Demon could call upon the powers of Hell, and their summoning powers determined how strong they were. They could also control the weak-minded... but to merge with a human?

Then she put it together. "He merged with Orphen!"

"Precisely," said Mr. Burns, smiling in satisfaction. "And your Majik was drawn to him for that reason. As I understand it, he suffers from severe desolation."

Cleao bit her lip. "But... How could he? I was always there, and then he had Azalea--"

"Ah, but weren't you the one who killed him?" Mr. Burns cut in. "Surely he hated you for that." Cleao nodded; she couldn't deny that. "And I don't mean desolation from the lack of people. I meant desolation from the lack of empathy."

In that case, he was completely alone, she realized. "But then... Why Orphen?"

Mr. Burns frowned. "You need to do more research, Miss Cleao. Orphen is a boy-- a young man who has lost his parents and family. He's alone in that sense. Majik has lost his family as well, due to your actions." Cleao flinched.

"But... He always seemed so much more obsessed with Killiranshelo than Orphen."

"And why wouldn't he be?" Mr. Burns smirked. "Demons are amazing creatures, and your dear boy Majik seems to have a fondness for anything he can't have. Doesn't he?"

Then, as if that hadn't been a painful enough sting, he added, "After all, he couldn't have you, could he?"

Cleao sighed and brought her knees to her chest, trying to fight inevitable tears. 'If only I could apologize, take it all back somehow... Oh, Majik, you know I would!'

It had been very unfair. Back then her old master had been in a similar situation as Flameheart. However, the Demons had been more at large then, and he couldn't use them. Thus, he had his subjects seek the best of the humans or surreal beings, and then brought them over to their side.

Even then, Majik had been a brilliant boy. He'd been a little silly, clumsy, and sometimes acted downright foolish, but his mind was amazing. He had been a true prodigy, who could learn just about anything after only one, occasionally two explanations. And then it was nearly impossible for him to forget.

That, to Cleao's old master, had been insanely valuable. He'd wanted that boy on their side more than anything at the time, and so Cleao had been assigned to attract and change him.

Even still, though they had been orders of the utmost importance and could have cost Cleao her life, she desperately wished she could go back and change it. Things wouldn't have been this horrible, perhaps.

"Majik," she whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry... Please, be careful."

Then she allowed herself to dissolve into tears of mourning and regret.

"You can't stay here, you know."

Silence met his remark. Scowling, Killiranshelo tipped his head to the side, observing the mute boy. Majik was sitting on the floor, hands locked behind his neck and eyes staring at the ground as though thoroughly fascinated.

It was an easy lie to see through. The boy was in torment, yet he was unwilling to let it out. Killiranshelo knew he wanted to; he had clear access to the boy's mind. But until Majik admitted it aloud, he would never have any peace of mind.

The Demon sighed loudly, pacing across the room on all fours. "Look," he said shortly. "I can't stay long. Orphen will wake up soon."

"Um," Majik mumbled.

Killiranshelo's eyebrow twitched; that better have been agreement. "Wasn't the purpose of your seeking me out to talk to me?"

Majik finally looked up. He had circles beneath his eyes, and his mouth was curled in a lopsided smile. He looked insane, and Killiranshelo had no doubts that he was-- and if not yet, then he soon would be. "Funny thing," the vampire said dreamily. "Now that I have the opportunity, I can't."

Killiranshelo's ears flattened to his head. 'Typical human reaction,' he thought irritably. Then, aloud, he pointed out, "But you nearly blurted everything to my counterpart, Virgin Boy."

Majik ignored the taunt. "Orphen's different."

"How?" Killiranshelo demanded. "He's only human! I used to be him, you know."

"Did you, now?"

Killiranshelo bristled. "Yes. There was an accident with his sister quite some time ago, and I was driven from his body. I'm the Demon he possesses; without me, he is simply a sorcerer." He wouldn't have told Majik any of this had the boy still been under Flameheart's rule. But Majik had run from that, hiding in the least likely place: Orphen's psyche. Vampire powers usually didn't extend that far, but Killiranshelo also knew that Majik was a prodigy in more ways than one. And when he wasn't in the oblivious youth's head, he was with him, in his house. It was so obvious a place to look, that no one had bothered to check there.

"When he's awake, I just lurk nearby, waiting for him to sleep again so I can go out and eat. I still need to survive, you know." Without warning, Killiranshelo pounced on the boy. Majik may have been able to dodge, but he didn't even make the effort to try. "Damn it!" exploded Killiranshelo. "Tell me something! Let someone in for Christ's sake, Majik! You'll hurt yourself!"

"Too late for that."

Killiranshelo bit back a frustrated growl. "Majik, what do you want? I mean, really want? I know you don't want me, or Orphen. You want something."

The blonde looked thoughtful, almost sane for a moment. "What I want," he said slowly, "is my family back. My life. My ignorance." He sighed, finally meeting Killiranshelo's burning amber gaze. "I want what I can never get back. My old life meant more to me than I ever believed possible."

The Demon sighed. He had an answer, but no way to help. "I'm sorry."

Majik closed his eyes. "So the only way to have that is to have someone; someone whom I can empathize with, who can understand me as a person and not as the vampire I even hate myself to be. I hate humans, but I hate vampires more."

Such a strange, curious boy. "Perhaps the time has come, then, Majik."

"Perhaps," he replied dully, the shutters falling back in place.

Killiranshelo smirked. "Orphen's waking up. Leave. I need to rest, too."

Majik nodded, his eyes still closed. A moment later he faded from view, simple as that. Once Killiranshelo was certain he was gone, he allowed his consciousness to drift. It was his turn to rest, and Orphen's turn to wake. And, if Majik did as he should, Orphen would be learning some interesting things soon enough.

Orphen awoke to the pleasant sensation of someone stroking his hair. It was affectionate, touching something deep inside of him that reminded him of his longing for his family-- most of all, his sister that he couldn't remember.

He didn't stir at first, clinging to the residue of the feeling. Finally, he grew restless and did move. His eyes slit open, and he found himself gazing groggily at Majik.

'The sort-of-but-not-really boyfriend,' he thought, not entirely sarcastic. "What time is it?" he murmured.

The blonde didn't seem to find his question strange. "Nine o'clock. It's not late at all. You fell asleep early."

Orphen snorted, smirking. So he had, it seemed. He sat up, freeing himself from the boy's grasp. "Then maybe you'd better be on your way home."

Majik sighed. "I don't want to." Then, surprisingly, he leaned against the taller youth. His eyes were half lidded, gazing ahead at nothing. "You're warm."

Orphen cocked an eyebrow. The boy was definitely strange, but that strangeness was part of his charm. At least, to Orphen it was. Majik could have easily passed for a girl, but he was completely male. He was just weird; he acted feminine at times, but then there were times Orphen would catch his gaze and get the chilling, disturbing feeling that Majik was much stronger than he knew.

"Tomorrow's a Thursday, though," reminded Orphen. "I have to go, even if you don't. I have a test, remember?" A stupid one, a history test, but he had to make sure his grades stayed on an even level so he could graduate. He didn't understand why Majik was more concerned about that sort of thing.

The boy frowned. "So skip. You always do."

"Yeah, but I have to go often enough to graduate. I don't want to stay there."

Majik said nothing. Even so, without the words, Orphen had the feeling he was displeased. No, scratch that; he knew Majik didn't like it. Even still...

"Just this one last time," Majik pleaded suddenly. "I promise, I'll never ask again. Please, Orphen."

Oh, he was doing the puppy-eyed pleading thing. Orphen hated that more than anything, because Majik was both too cute to resist and managed to make him feel guilty if he said no when the boy wore that sort of expression. He sighed and looked at the ceiling, searching for the word, but it wasn't there.

"All right. Just this once."

Majik smiled faintly, closing his eyes. "Thank you," was all he said. Orphen stifled a second sigh and submitted, knowing there was nothing more he could do to get out of it. Even so, Majik had been acting strange lately. Before there had always been an assured calm about him, and though he was quieter than before, Majik had the strangest feeling of chaos and complete bewilderment about him.

But Orphen didn't want to talk. That wasn't what he was used to. So he was contented to sit there silently, pondering over the strangeness of it all until Majik finally fell asleep.

'I can't do it.'

You coward.

'... I know.'

Majik wanted to scream, as though it would help. He hated the quiet; he hated that Orphen refused to do anything but just sit there, trying to assure himself he was being there for the boy. He needed something to distract the voices in his head, the ones that insisted on taunting him. He was like a child all over again, running from the verbal abuse.

They'll find you. They'll realize where you are soon enough. And even if you hide if his psyche for a long time, they'll eventually find out. They're not stupid. Plus they have Adrial.

'I know.'

And if you did stay within Orphen's psyche, you may very well destroy it, him, and Killiranshelo.

In his mind, Majik was clamping his hands over his ears in attempt to shut the voices out. 'I know that! I know! Stop it!'

Stop it? Stop what? Stop telling the truth? Stop making you face what you're afraid of, you pansy? Even the juvenile taunts had their effect; Majik could almost feel the venom the voices spat. Or maybe we should move to a different subject, hm? How you lied?

'I never lied!'

To Killiranshelo, you lied.

'I did not!'

Not telling the entire truth is the same as lying. If the voices also had expressions, this one would be smirking. Why didn't you admit it? That you loved him? Because you don't want to set yourself up again. That's good. That's very good. Because you're a fucking freak to love a Demon as well as a human-- not to mention the very same human that Demon shares a body with!

Majik grit his teeth, trying not to let his control slip. If he did, he'd most likely lash out at the voices, which may have in turn have him attack the nearest living creature: Orphen. He tried to tell himself the voices were wrong, he hated all humans, even Orphen.

But that small, annoyingly honest and childlike part whispered. And that whisper dominated everything, even the shrieking in his mind.

But he's everything, the whisper said. It floated through the intricacies of his mind, weaving spells and murmuring enchantments in the way only a sorcerer could compete with. He's the closest thing that represents all you lost. Because...

'He's...'

The same...

'As...'

YOU.

Majik shivered. Why was this murmur so much louder than the screams? Why was the impact worse than that of the crushing forces of the taunts and jeers? He knew there was something wrong with him, mentally, but he hadn't thought it to be this bad.

Perhaps nobody but him realized it. That made him feel even worse than ever.

"Majik?"

The blonde jerked, opening his eyes. He only had to tilt his head back a bit to find Orphen gazing at him, dark eyebrows stitched in a frown. "Hmm?" he murmured.

Orphen frowned. "Are you okay?"

Majik paused before answering, realizing that he'd unconsciously grabbed a tight hold of Orphen's wrist in his sleep. He grimaced before quickly releasing him. "Just a bad dream," he lied. "No worries."

The taller youth gave him a quizzical look, but evidently decided to shrug it off. Or so Majik thought, before he caught a fleeting thought in Orphen's mind. He barely had time to prepare himself for the kiss. It took him by some surprise, all the same. Usually Majik would start, and let Orphen take over. This was new.

When Orphen did pull back, he was frowning still. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but you'd better fix it soon."

'Wrong with me?' Majik blinked, absorbing this, and then smiled faintly. He hadn't kissed back, which Orphen obviously found unusual.

"I'm just tired," he replied, resting against him again. "Stay with me..."

He heard Orphen sigh, but he made no movement to get away. It was somehow reassuring, and when Majik drifted off again, he was desperately relieved to hear the voices quiet. They knew they couldn't harm him in this rare, safe little bubble-- and that was good.

He was perfectly fine...

She couldn't sleep.

Cleao had been tossing for hours. She'd gone out to feed, but it had done little to assuage her restlessness. It was highly irritating and unnerving because she kept thinking of Majik.

'Damn,' she thought bitterly, sitting up and swinging her feet over the side of the bed. 'Damn myself. It's my fault anyway.' She couldn't shake that feeling, though she knew it was only half true.

'I have to tell him what Flameheart is doing,' she thought, contemplating her situation. If she could somehow find him and explain the current situation, maybe they could work together to try to make sense out of it all. It was a far-fetched idea, a very obscure one at that, but she had to try, right? She didn't have a choice.

Fiena had tried, but had been little help or comfort. "Perhaps it's for the best," the witch had suggested. "Majik didn't seem to be in his right mind."

"Rai said his brain waves were off," Cleao had replied dully. "It's nothing new to me. But him not being here doesn't make anything better for me. The guilt eats at me more when he's not here to make me repent-- and he knows it. That's why he released me, you know."

Fiena hadn't anything to say to that, so the conversation had immediately been dropped.

But there had to be more to it than that. Majik was unbalanced, which basically meant he was at his worst and most cunning. There had to be some piece of the puzzle Cleao was missing. It frustrated her that she didn't know what.

'I'll go ask Rai for a reading,' she thought, then banished that idea. 'No, he's busy enough as it is. I can ask Fiena to track down his residual spirit, I think... and maybe from there we can see what happens.' She could only hope it would happen for the best, whatever it was.

Cleao finally stood, feeling a brush of wind on her cheek. Long, curling golden strands tickled her face, and as she brushed the mild annoyance away she noticed her window was open. She frowned; she could have sworn she'd shut it.

She was tired, though. Even with her vampiric memory, it was possible she just wasn't remembering correctly. She walked over to shut the window-- and for the first time, realized there was another presence in the room.

"Too slow," a voice whispered, breathing warm air just below her ear. Cleao stifled a scream and whirled around, striking out at the trespasser. Her blow was caught surprisingly easily, and then her captor twisted her wrist. She winced but stifled another scream, this time of pain. She kicked hard with her foot, and managed to catch him in the shins. But all too soon an incredible power coursed through her, drowning her in pain and agony.

Cleao emitted only a tiny whimper, staggering. Another fresh wave, ten times stronger than the last, weakened her knees, and she collapsed. She was half blind by now, unable to summon the strength to even use her voice.

"Pay for your wrong-doings," the voice murmured, and then there was a stabbing pain in her lower ribs. Her scream was weak, barely above a whisper, and what vision she had left was stained with red.

'Majik...'

Something hard crashed into her head with crushing force, numbing any other pain in her body. After that, everything was just darkness.