Chapter 26: Style & Substance
In which Melly gets creative, Zel experiments, and some minds are blown.
Xelloss had once observed a rather puzzling human game: a player manipulated small paddles on the side of a box in order to bounce a metallic ball off of as many magically-powered posts as possible, while simultaneously trying to keep the ball from bouncing completely out of the low-powered magic field that encompassed the game. He could not imagine why anyone would invent such a contraption, but he was highly amused at the amount of frustration humans subjected themselves to in the name of entertainment.
As the days went by in Wyndcliff, he felt like he was watching Zelgadis play a life-sized version of a similar game. He was even more amused to see the chimera bounce from one annoying obstacle to another, without being able to leave any of them behind entirely as he tried to continue his studies.
Some Loremasters, mainly Erta, actually seemed to be stalking them. She was always present at the dining hall, no matter how often Zelgadis changed the time of their visits, always so eager to ask any number of awkward questions about their travels with Lina. Others simply seemed to have a knack for being on the same path at the same moment, which often happened to be the worst moment possible. Zelgadis managed to offend Spearos, the Head Archivist, on two occasions, merely be being caught with books in his hand.
Not that it was difficult to offend Spearos. If mere grumpiness made a meal for a mazoku, the Head Archivist would have been a feast indeed. Of course, he was no more than a small treat compared to the savory blend of anger and embarrassment these encounters inspired in the chimera. Zelgadis took the hawk man's mood personally, but as far as Xelloss could tell, the old bird felt just as ruffled by his fellow Loremasters, his cheerful assistant, and everything else he encountered. Xelloss didn't bother to tell Zelgadis this.
If Zelgadis changed their path to avoid inquisitive Loremasters, he was likely to run right into the next worst thing: a Reciter in Training. The only legitimate reason to be carrying a book around the temple grounds was if one were a future Reciter in the process of memorizing the material. This meant that, on any morning now, they might run into several people wandering the pathways with a copy of a Princess of Fate book in hand. The reciters-to-be strolled along blindly, oblivious to all else as they read aloud, committing the words to memory.
Zelgadis had avoided reading the books and quickly shut down any conversation about them that Xelloss might start, but he could not help overhearing parts of the tale. Inevitably, it seemed, it was a part that he'd rather forget. Martina had gone into wonderful detail concerning the Adventure in the Country of Women and The Tower of Haunted Dolls.
If that was not enough to keep them zigging and zagging among the Temple paths and the winding village streets, there were the reminders everywhere of the upcoming Festival. And, of course, when they finally managed to weave and dodge their way to the mansion, there was Melly.
For that matter, Xelloss was not immune from this game. His own commitment to protecting Zelgadis' study time often left him bouncing in many directions at the same time as well, navigating the hazards of awkward questions about Mazoku politics and policies hinted at in Martina's book, Shuno being as boring and annoying as humanly possible, and, of course, Melly.
Xelloss began to envy Shuno's ability to completely ignore anything he didn't find interesting. After he'd verified that Zelgadis and Xelloss were not wearing costumes (even though they had no idea that's what they were verifying at the time), Shuno obviously had put all thoughts of the Festival out of his mind. The Princess of Fate didn't make any impression on him at all, as far as Xelloss could see. Myona might not have existed as far as Shuno was concerned - which, as Zelgadis said, was lucky for Myona. In fact, Shuno even ignored Zelgadis most of the time now, except when he thought Zelgadis was distracting Xelloss from his duties as tutor.
The one thing that Shuno did pay attention to was Melly. Not that he found Melly any more interesting than the rest of them did, but Melly frequently tried to rope others into his hobbies - sometimes quite literally - and Shuno seemed to be highly attuned to this danger. In fact, Shuno's instinct for avoiding Melly sometimes served as an early-warning system to the rest of them. His sudden disappearance from a room became a signal for all to scatter to safety. This was hardly a perfect system, since it required paying more attention to Shuno than anyone liked to pay.
One morning, Shuno met Xelloss and Zelgadis in the corridor near the library, and without a word, the scholar grabbed Xelloss by the arm and disappeared down a side corridor before Xelloss knew what was happening. A moment later, Xelloss heard the reason, echoing up the hallways from the direction of the library: Melly's voice, warbling through the hallways like the echo of an out-of-tune melodion, inexplicably accompanied by the acrid scent of hot metal and a strange clanking sound, like the rattle of ghostly chains.
"Helloooo, Zelgadis-san?" Clink, clank. "Shuno-kun?" Jingle-clank-jangle. "Ah, Dulcinea-chan, I know you must be up here somewhere! You'll absolutely love my new idea!"
"Doubtful," Shuno muttered as he dragged Xelloss along a dusty passage. Xelloss had to agree with that assessment.
Unfortunately, Shuno's instinct for avoiding Melly was equal to his obliviousness to his surroundings. He marched Xelloss along through twisting back ways of the mansion, away from any main rooms or corridors. Servant's passages, Xelloss supposed, but the smell of burning metal and the telltale clanking sounds only grew more distinct as they went on.
"Ah, Shuno-kun," Xelloss began in warning.
"Shh, he'll hear you!" Shuno hissed, quite loudly enough to be heard through the walls.
It was too late, anyway. They burst through a low doorway and stopped short, face to face with Melly himself.
The Mala had draped himself in gray silk robes, with several long loops of uneven, black iron chains hanging around his neck and dangling off his arms like morbid necklaces. He hardly took any notice of the new arrivals, too intent on Zelgadis and Myona, who were already entangled, quite literally, in the Mala's latest scheme. As he and Shuno burst in, Melly added another loop of lumpy chain to several already wound around each of his hapless captives.
At first glance, Xelloss thought with horror and a touch of outrage that Melly had taken up a new hobby as some kind of dungeon master. Then he saw Melly tip his head and reach out with a delicate hand to rearrange the chain looped over one of Zel's long, pointed ears.
"Ah yes, that's much more stylish, don't you agree?" he cooed.
"Ahh," Xelloss said uncertainly. "This is... the latest style?"
"Yes, the very latest!" Melly cried, waving an arm vaguely. "The most mod and up-to-date, cutting edge fashion trend: chain mail clothing and accessories, custom designed by The House of Asmalath!"
Xelloss glanced around curiously. The room they'd stumbled into was lined with shelves and filled with long stone tables, all full of old equipment, most of it dusty and broken. The smoke-filled air reeked, sweltering hot from the smoking brazier on one of the stone tablets in the middle of the floor. It must have once been a magical laboratory, but there was no magic in the air now. The room had been transformed into a forge.
Shuno huffed impatiently beside him, and Zelgadis glared daggers. It was absolutely amazing to Xelloss that Melly did not wilt or burst into flame from the force of their combined outrage.
Melly's idea of fashion seemed to require nearly mummifying the model-victim in a clunky, heavy web of chains and metal plates. Uncomfortable enough even for Zelgadis, with his arms nearly trapped in an awkward pose, but it looked likely to injure Myona if much more metal was piled onto his thin frame.
It was just a shame, Xelloss thought, that Dulcinia had managed to escape before being recruited to this particular hobby.
"Oh, well, you're all set," Shuno said. He turned back to Xelloss. "Come on, then."
He stood facing Xelloss and the door, clearly expecting him to head back the way they came and return to the library.
"Yes, if that's all, then we'll just be..." Zelgadis said, moving to follow them.
Melly stepped in front of him, waving a hand in his face, and incidentally yanking on the end of a chain he'd just looped around Myona's thin neck. The boy choked and stumbled into Zelgadis.
"Oh dear, no, you mustn't move around, you'll ruin the effect! Please stand still while I'm doing the placement!"
"How long is this going to take?" Zelgadis growled, deftly untangling Myona as he spoke.
"Well, this is just the preliminary fitting, you know," Melly said airily. "It will take a great deal more time to get The Look just right. Pieces must still be made to custom fit each of you! And then we'll have to rehearse for the fashion show. Here now, Myona-kun, let's try it this way..."
"Fashion show?!" Myona squeaked.
Zelgadis made an indescribable sound.
"Fine, let's go then, " Shuno said. He shoved Xelloss toward the door again.
Xelloss ignored him. He stepped over to the group of fashion models, and, hardly knowing what he was saying, began to ooh and ahh over the misshapen chain mail. Then he caught sight of the clumsy sketches of clothing design ideas on the table.
"Brilliant!" he cried. "Absolutely wonderful!"
Melly, and the rest, gaped at him.
"Won't you let me be your model instead, Melly-san?" he cried, so enthusiastically he almost even convinced himself.
Through the chains hanging across Zelgadis' face, he saw the chimera's eyebrow twitch. Myona made a gagging noise that might not have been entirely due to the heavy metal necklace.
Shuno spoke from the doorway, his voice sharp with impatience. "That's pointless. Obviously, a guy made of stone makes a better clothes-rack."
For a moment, Xelloss thought he might have to be the one to protect Shuno from immanent magical destruction this time, as Zelgadis growled and a flurry of rage sparked from him. That might be one way to get them all away from Melly, he thought, but it might not help their cause in the long run.
He spread his hands and shrugged apologetically at Shuno, then stepped back to place himself between Zelgadis and Melly.
"But what a perfect opportunity to contribute to the advancement of art and fashion!" he said, hardly heeding the words that tumbled so energetically from his own mouth, "I should hate to miss out on such an innovative new trend!"
Even Shuno, usually so oblivious to nuance, seemed to sense the sarcasm in this nonsense, judging by the twitch in his jaw and the deepening of his scowl.
"Since when do Mazoku care about art or fashion?" he muttered suspiciously.
Melly pouted at him and placed his arm around Xelloss' shoulder in a comradely way.
"Shuno-kun," Melly said, with a sigh and a shake of his head. "Being a scientist, I suppose it just isn't possible for you to appreciate True Art in its purest form, as we do."
Shuno glared at them a moment longer, accusingly enough that Xelloss felt obligated to pretend to wince. Then he shrugged and left the room without another word.
Zelgadis was already extricating himself and Myona from the mess of chain mail links they'd been trapped in. Melly seemed to have forgotten them immediately; he picked out several pieces and held them up to consider where he might place them on his new model instead.
"Hm, yes, indeed, your coloring is much more suitable to these shades..."
"Ah well," Xelloss said quietly, eyeing the clunky steel chains and heavy, tattered sheets of mail. "It's not even quite as horrible as Shimerian fashion, is it?"
Zelgadis laughed softly. Underneath his grin as he ushered Myona out of the room, Xelloss sensed a blast of relief and gratitude, darkened perfectly with a hint of how he might repay Xelloss later, as he left to spend a blissfully uninterrupted day in Melly's library.
Xelloss managed to entertain Melly through several hours of being wrapped in increasingly bizarre chain-mail shapes. He even thought he might have overdone it a little when Melly started to ignore him and mutter to himself about shape and depth and design theory several hours later.
Eventually Xelloss decided it was safe to leave the Mala to his own devices. It was high time to check on Zelgadis, anyway. He flickered back to the library, leaving Melly to contemplate the surprisingly complex spatial challenges of three-dimensional art forms.
It might have all been worth it, he decided. Xelloss was pleased to find that, with no observers or interruptions to worry about, Zelgadis was deeply engrossed in The Warp and Weft of Spellweaving, and had several of the other more esoteric and controversial old books and manuscripts nearby, although still with various lightweight Beast Tribe folklore and enough Skye legends at hand to avert suspicion if anyone should notice.
Xelloss caught a glimpse of a book on magical experimentation that the Sorcerers Guild had banned a couple hundred years ago, and a rare copy of a treatise on the development of magic in the time of Lei Magnus. Off in his usual corner, Myona had curled up and gone to sleep in his armchair, half buried in old folklore and fairy tales.
Zelgadis looked up at him, bleary eyed for a moment, as if he had to force himself back to normal reality. Xelloss sensed something shift in his mood, as well; it almost seemed that Zelgadis avoided his gaze for a moment, but then he sat back and grinned.
"So, you survived another of the Mala's famous hobbies, hm?" he drawled as he stretched and yawned.
His stomach growled loudly before Xelloss could answer. They must have missed at least two meals by now.
"I believe the coast is clear," he said, "but we may want to leave before Melly decides he still needs someone to model some of his new ideas!"
Zelgadis agreed, and gently woke Myona. He shuffled the magical tomes back to the bottom of his piles of books and papers, eyeing them with some reluctance as they left, but it was clear to both of them that these books were tethered to the library by the old spells of the Asmalaths.
"Did you enjoy your peaceful day at the library?" Xelloss asked when they climbed the path back to their cottage a short time later, as dusk crept up the sky from behind the mountains and the first bright stars popped out in the sky overhead.
It was an honest question. He could not quite discern Zelgadis' emotion; the chimera seemed distracted, still deep in thought as he pondered the lore in those old books, perhaps. Whether those were hopeful or discouraged thoughts, or simply analytical, Xelloss couldn't quite tell.
"I hope it was productive, at any rate. I fear Melly may not continue this particular project much longer, and that may mean he'll come up with something even more... involved."
Zel glanced over at him, his attention shifting visibly into cautious curiosity.
"Oh? Let me guess, something about his model just happened to discourage him? Or give him some new idea, perhaps?" He scoffed. "I've noticed that it doesn't take much."
"I wouldn't presume to suggest what anyone else should take up for a hobby," Xelloss said, although he wished he'd thought of that at the time as some amusing ideas came to mind. "But you know, fashion is very much a matter of perception! And, as you've seen," he continued with a soft nudge against Zel's stony arm, along with a flicker of energy on the astral side, "human perception is quite different from a mazoku's, and rather easily, shall we say, confused."
Zelgadis stared at him sharply. "You didn't model for him in your true form!" he exclaimed, shocked for a moment. Then his face twisted. "With that chain mail..." he shook his head as if to clear an image from his mind.
Xelloss laughed. "Oh no, certainly not! I wouldn't go manifesting to just anyone like that, you know, without good reason!"
Zelgadis snorted. "I should hope not. But," he continued, tipping his head and regarding Xelloss more thoughtfully, "your physical form is just a construct, so it's... malleable, I suppose?" He raised one eyebrow, and Xelloss felt a dart of suspicion coming from him.
"As I've said before, I can't change shape so easily, if that's what you're suggesting. My Mistress chose this form for me, for reasons best known to her. But between your mere human physical senses and the perception of the astral side, there is, as you know, a sort of blurred boundary. Let's just say, some of Melly's lovely fashions didn't fit exactly as he expected them to. I'm afraid it left him rather puzzled. His last coherent words as I left him were something about going back to the drawing board."
"From there he's likely to come up with a plan for ..." Zelgadis waved his arms vaguely, "oh, who knows what. New kitchen appliances, or maybe he'll take up spinning and weaving next! It could be anything."
"Anything at all! But, please don't try to follow Melly-san's thought process," Xelloss pleaded. "I would prefer not to have to call on Kemara-sama to heal the damage that might do to your splendid - if rather limited - human mind!"
"My what?" Zelgadis laughed. "You Mazoku have strange ideas of flattery."
Xelloss just grinned. "At any rate, what did your splendid human mind find in the library today?"
Zelgadis didn't answer right away, and Xelloss thought he felt the chimera's attention slip away again, his emotions shifting back to a muted level.
"I'm not sure," he said finally. "I have a few ideas, but... I still need to do more research."
Was he hiding some new discouragement, Xelloss wondered, or something more promising? He supposed there was no point in digging further. Zelgadis would surely reveal any truly useful discovery as soon as he was sure of it, and if he was discouraged, well, that would come out too, sooner or later.
"Don't forget that there are other avenues open to you here," he said, just in case Zelgadis was indeed disappointed in what he'd found in the Mala's books. "Aside from the Recitations such as The Making of Worlds and our friend the Princess of Fate, there are undoubtedly other, more enlightening tales to be heard, including the local beast tribe lore that brought you here in the first place. Perhaps you could hear the tale of Arin the Hawk Hero King direct from the hawk's mouth, as it were!"
"From Spearos?" Zel said. He shook his head. "He's not likely to want to tell it to me! And I very much doubt I doubt he'd appreciate it if I offered your version of the tale as 'payment in kind.'"
"Oh dear me, don't you think so?" Xelloss said in mock innocence.
Zelgadis paused as they reached the gate in the hedge. They both turned to look back across the Temple grounds, where a few lights flickered now through the gathering darkness. Now that most of the trees and shrubs had lost their leaves, the contours of the hillside were laid bare, still shadowed here and there by darker lines of cedar and holly. The intriguing jumble of paths and stairways, various painted halls and pavilions scrambled across the hillside. There was still much of the Temple grounds that they hadn't explored, hampered as they were by the desire to avoid curious Loremasters.
"And there's that locked temple vault to consider, as well," Zelgadis said softly.
He seemed to reach a decision of some sort, and his mood and attention shifted again, directly back to Xelloss in fact, so suddenly and so intently that Xelloss thrust aside all thoughts of Loremasters and Malas. At least part of Zel's new train of thought was made obvious by the way he sidled past Xelloss, brushing against him as if the gate was much narrower than it really was.
"Never mind all that now, it will wait," he said, his voice dropping like the dusk that had fallen around them. "You must be hungry after a long day of modeling for Melly, hm? I know I am," he said. His smile flashed briefly in the dark before he turned and headed toward their cottage. Xelloss gave up pretending to walk and simply floated along behind him on a wave of pleasant anticipation.
Zelgadis was, in fact, hungry for the more mundane kind of food, as well, but he made quick work of a meal out of their stores from the dining hall, dunking hard tack crackers into a bowl of turnip stew and quickly heating it over the fire Xelloss helpfully ignited in the hearth. Xelloss joined him, or at least he pretended to take a normal meal for appearances sake, sitting across from him at the little table, sipping at a cup of tea and nibbling on a cracker. Zelgadis felt himself being watched from Xelloss' shadowed eyes, and grinned as he calmly sipped his soup.
He paused for a moment to savor the earthy taste, the salty crunch of the crackers, the salty sea tang of dried kelp used here in the village as seasoning. The slower and more thoughtfully he ate, the harder Xelloss watched him. There was an edge to Xelloss' awareness tonight, almost the animal wariness of hunter stalking prey, although it was with little hint of the bloodlust that would normally spill over from a mazoku on such high alert.
Zelgadis guessed the watchfulness was fueled by concern that he would pull out his notebooks and pens again, and slip back into his studies. It might in fact be amusing to see what lengths Xelloss would go to in order to distract him, or if he would resign himself to another night of watching Zelgadis fall asleep over his books. His devotion to Zel's studies was touching - weird, for a Mazoku, but touching.
You needn't worry, Xelloss, he thought, allowing himself to grin as he took another sip from his spoon. That won't work against you tonight! But he said nothing. Instead, he slid one foot across under the table and hooked it around Xelloss' leg.
Xelloss twitched, his head jerking back just enough to reveal a gleam of half-lidded eyes in the firelight under the shadow of his hair, and his lips stretched into a smile.
Zelgadis continued to sip at his soup, but turned his attention to other senses. The crackle of the magically-ignited fire in the hearth, the subliminal rumble of the sea ever present in the near distance, and the dark swirl of astral power sitting there across the table from him. Shadows flickered across Xelloss' hair, and the soft light from the fire drew out the contours of his shirt and the shape of his gloved hand, the movement as he raised his cup to his lips, then dipped his head again to hide his eyes. He must have known by now that Zelgadis was watching him, and he waited.
Zelgadis pushed his empty bowl aside and leaned forward across the table. Xelloss barely raised his head, but Zelgadis saw his eyebrow twitch when he caught Xelloss by the wrist and took the teacup from his hand.
He pulled Xelloss' glove off slowly and held it to his lips, breathing in. His mundane senses assured him it was ordinary fabric, still slightly warm from contact with Xelloss' skin. There was, surprisingly, the scent of hammered steel clinging to it, the smelted-metal odor of Melly's ridiculous project, that made Zelgadis wrinkle his nose. But under that and stronger, there lingered the scent of Xelloss himself, the ozone-smell of magic and darkness, right along with the strangely ordinary scent of his human disguise.
That scent alone was enough to invoke a thrill of desire in Zel's body, and he let the sensual memory of their recent encounters wash over him. Xelloss hummed in response, a sigh without breath, and leaned closer.
Suddenly, the table was gone from under Zel's elbows, shifted to the other side of the room in an instant, but Zelgadis was not even surprised by this move. In fact, it suited his purposes perfectly. He shoved his chair closer and slid his knees in between Xelloss' legs, and lowered his head.
He dropped the glove and flicked his tongue over Xelloss' bare knuckle, breathed in deeply and released a thoughtful sigh.
"Hmm. I've learned about Mazoku taste in emotions, what flavors they may prefer, but now I've thought of a new area of study: how does a Mazoku taste?"
He let his tongue caress down to the tips of Xelloss' fingers, then parted his lips gently around one fingertip.
It seemed to take Xelloss a second or two to connect the words to the action, and then, just as he started to chuckle at the joke, Zelgadis leaned forward, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and pulled him in for a sudden, hungry kiss.
It only startled Xelloss for a second, less than a swift heartbeat, before he responded by wrapping his arms around Zelgadis and turning the hunger around on him in turn. Zelgadis let himself be drawn in, for the moment. Xelloss tangled a fist in his hair and yanked, hard, and Zelgadis responded with a whimper when Xelloss nipped on his lip. Sharp teeth broke through the softer skin inside Zelgadis' mouth, and he tasted his own blood mingled with the shadowy flavor of Xelloss' lips.
"Ah, sorry, Zel-san," Xelloss whispered against his mouth a second later. "As you said, I am quite hungry, after all."
He flicked his tongue over the small wound, strangely gentle now. Zelgadis whimpered again, let himself wince and growl a little, but he curled his own tongue around the mazoku's and sucked on it, and got another satisfied hum in response.
He felt Xelloss' energy swirling against his own on the astral side, waiting for him to reach out, but he simply waited there, only giving enough attention to his own astral body to hold his own and to sense Xelloss there.
With the practice he'd had by now, it had become much easier to maintain his awareness on both sides, to feel the strange not-shape of Xelloss energy even while he twisted his fingers in the mazoku's shirt, sidled closer so his knees pressed Xelloss' thighs apart, licked and nibbled along his jaw and breathed in the scent of his skin. Easier, but not simple at all. Even the magical sixth sense his demon-third had enhanced did not allow him to experience the astral side the way a Mazoku did naturally. His lessons with Xelloss had made that clear, and all his research only seemed to reinforce that fact.
Human magic, it seemed, had been a long experiment of trial and error to compensate for this difference in perception, to find ways to grasp and manipulate something that had no form discernible in the normal realms of human senses. All of Xelloss' explanations and demonstrations, all of his own practice in focusing his will on the astral side, all that he'd read, were not quite enough. Some key element of perception still eluded his mental grasp. All he could do was to try to retrain his existing senses to somehow correlate, to translate the unsenseable to his mind. What better way to do that than to concentrate all his sensory perception on the Mazoku body and spirit right here within his reach?
At any rate, that's what desire compelled him to do now. Desire and curiosity drew him to Xelloss' skin, his whole physical form, cloth and flesh and movement under his tongue, and that same desire surged his spirit toward the mazoku's as well.
"Ahh, Zel-san," Xelloss said, his voice wavering - an echo, Zel noticed, of a flutter on the astral side. "I know you said you were hungry, but this is..."
"I said I want to taste you, Xelloss," Zel reminded him, a snarl revealing his inhumanly sharp teeth, with a nip at the soft skin of Xelloss' throat.
He was used to thinking in sensory terms to control his power on the astral side - reaching, touching, sometimes visualizing unimaginable shapes (all the while avoiding the vision of his own astral form as he perceived it to be). Now he endeavored to shift that awareness to other senses, less tangible, less easily imagined. He was not just a finger-shaped form touching Xelloss' astral body; instead, he breathed in, and swallowed, and tried to let the astral-body equivalent of taste and scent take shape in his mind.
It didn't seem to work. At least, nothing registered in his own astral perception, but Xelloss made a fluttering sound somewhere between a laugh and a whimper. Then, a heartbeat later, the Mazoku growled and surged against him, flooding Zelgadis' senses.
Zelgadis lost his grip. For a moment the only image that came to mind was of drowning in a violent sea of furious motion. Then he scrambled back to awareness on the physical side, and found he was nearly in Xelloss' lap now, clinging to his chest with Xelloss' arms wrapped around him so tightly he would be bruised if he had ordinary skin, barely able to draw a breath.
"What are you doing, Zel-san?" Xelloss asked in a shuddery whisper that brushed against his ears and thrummed across his skin, or was it simply a vibration rumbling through his astral body?
Xelloss' grip loosened slightly. Zel drew in a grateful breath. Fingers that were trying to dig into his stone skin a moment ago caressed instead, with sparks of heat that made him shiver, but the usual magic touch seemed a little unsteady at the moment.
Zelgadis chuckled softly. Apparently, confusion of the senses was not limited to small, human minds, after all.
He pulled back to look at Xelloss, and almost regretted it as the sight of him nearly made him lose all grip on the astral side. He had managed to half-undress Xelloss without even realizing it, though probably with Xelloss' help, and the mazoku's skin seemed to gleam in the firelight. Xelloss' hair was a disheveled shadow around his face, his lips parted and damp. But his eyes were still closed. Not in the hidden way they often appeared to be - watching from under his lowered lids but only hiding their revealing amethyst gleam from human sight - but clasped shut tightly, eyelids fluttering as if in a swoon, dark lashes against his cheeks.
That vision only remained for a moment, long enough for Zelgadis to admire and commit to memory against the day when all this illusion would be shattered. Xelloss' eyebrow twitched and one eye opened, eyeing him suspiciously, his mouth quirking in delight and curiosity.
"Is this some new form of attack you're trying to invent? I admit, the element of surprise may be effective, but only -"
Zelgadis felt the energy shift, a tiny, fleeting surge of intent on the astral side, but when Xelloss moved to shove him back and down to the floor beneath him a moment later, he was ready. He slipped through Xelloss' arms instead, downward, and dropped to his knees in front of Xelloss' chair.
"Not at all," Zelgadis answered.
He looked up and found Xelloss staring down at him, startled and curious. He had all but lifted his hands away, instead of grabbing on when Zelgadis started to slip through his grasp, and a flicker of disappointment crossed his shadowed features, as if he thought Zelgadis was actually planning to slip away and go back to his books now.
"Don't you understand yet?" he said, with a grin and a playful nip at Xelloss' inner thigh. "Foolish Mazoku! I want to taste you. All of you."
"Ahh?" the sound Xelloss made began as a question but spiraled into realization, as Zelgadis pressed his face against Xelloss and let his rough cheek nudge the erection swelling inside Xelloss' trousers.
"Ah," Xelloss sighed again, almost in a detached way, although the swell of his spirit back against Zel's betrayed his interest. "Well, in that case, if that's your intention, allow me to assist..."
Zelgadis was not the least surprised when Xelloss' clothing vanished. True to the illusion of his physical form, the scent and warmth of skin was suddenly sharp against Zel's lips and in his nostrils.
Zelgadis felt the Mazoku spirit press back against him at the same time that Xelloss grabbed the back of his neck, a caress at first, and then, just as Zelgadis tensed in anticipation, the touch suddenly tightened like a vice holding his head in place between Xelloss legs. Panic shuddered down his spine; he swallowed hard, even as he let the fear wash through him, offering it up to the mazoku's senses. He forced himself to breathe, and found that breath was full of the scent of hot skin and arousal and ah, there, on the astral side, he caught it. The scent of Xelloss' power hit the back of his mind...
And slipped away as soon as his mind tried, automatically, to put it into words.
With a growl of frustration, he returned his full attention to his exploration of Xelloss' physical form.
It wasn't as if he'd never paid attention, even though he'd never done this particular sexual act before, even after all he'd done with Xelloss. The contours of Xelloss' body, the shape and scent of his arousal, were familiar now, though still seemingly full of shadows and secrets, all so enticing to his own deepest desires that it often seemed ridiculous, when he stopped to think about it. But now, just this once, he thought, maybe he could use this sensory desire to follow the connection, like a familiar path leading to a new destination, a bridge between the physical and the astral form. Maybe he could use desire to make it all make sense to his senses.
That, at least, was enough of an excuse to overcome lingering shyness and shame that started to sweep up from somewhere deep in his gut as he continued. That, and simple, ordinary lust. After all he'd done with Xelloss by now, he supposed it was a wonder he had a single inhibition left, but for some reason, performing this act felt like stepping over one last line - or maybe it was merely the lust itself that made his face feel so hot.
Whatever the reason for this shame and hesitation, apparently it was just as potent a negative emotion as their usual dance of pain and pleasure, allure and frustration. At least, he guessed it must be just as good for Xelloss, judging from the way the Mazoku sighed and purred and clutched at him when he slid his rough and clumsy fingers around Xelloss erection, sucked in a deep, nervous breath, and drew the tip of it into his mouth.
He didn't know what he'd expected, but he was vaguely surprised to find it exactly as he'd imagined, Xelloss' cock firm and hot in his mouth, with the salty musk of male arousal sliding across his tongue, only with the strange pulse of astral energy under the taste to remind him that it was not quite real at all. Real enough that he wanted more, and blushed all the harder for wanting it.
At the same time, he tried, tried, and almost managed to perceive of Xelloss' astral form as a flavor in his mind. The flavor of night wind, he thought, words racing across his mind in an attempt to catch the idea of it: of exotic spices, of the sensation at the back of his tongue when he spoke the Chaos Words of a spell. Bitter, dark, hot, rich, dangerous... desirable. He groaned a little in his throat, wrapped his tongue around all he could take of Xelloss' cock, and hunger for more of it seemed to pulse through his own spirit, trying to pull Xelloss in, deeper, darker...
It kept slipping from the grasp of thought, but he kept sucking harder and drew himself back around it, giving in to all his desire.
"Oh my, Zel-san," Xelloss murmured, seemingly from somewhere far away and above Zelgadis, and something he couldn't name echoed through his astral senses.
Xelloss was stroking his hair, but his other hand on was firmly on Zelgadis' shoulder, making it clear that he would not be allowed to back out on this now. In that case, he thought, he might as well make the most of the remaining few shreds of the anxiety that had kept him from doing this before. He let his mouth slide back, leaving a wet trail behind, so he could speak with his lips still fluttering against Xelloss' skin.
"You know I've... I've never done this," he croaked out in a hoarse whisper.
He raised his eyes and found that Xelloss was staring down at him, the shadow of a smile on his lips, gold sparks within his amethyst eyes gleaming in the firelight.
His spirit wound around Zelgadis, slithering pressure twisting across Zel's astral senses. Xelloss' fingers pressed into the back of his neck, and he lifted his other hand to Zel's face. One heated fingertip caressed his cheek.
"Neither have I, at least, not from this angle! In fact it has never occurred to me that it could be pleasant. But since it's you, I'm sure I will enjoy it, Zel-san," he purred.
Reassurance from a Mazoku? Zelgadis almost laughed at that, even if the tone of it did sound more like a threat.
He had no idea why Xelloss should enjoy the physical act itself, but then, he never understood why Xelloss seemed to relish the feel of his rough skin when they tangled together, or even why he liked to take Zel this way, as he certainly seemed to, hungrily sucking him in until Zelgadis felt like his bones were melting... the memory of it gave him another rush of lust.
Inexperience aside, he wasn't even sure how he could make it as arousing for Xelloss as it was when Xelloss got him off this way, but for the moment, he didn't care. He wanted this...
Every breath was full of the scent of Xelloss' heated skin now, the press of his cock hard and pungent on Zel's tongue, and the swirl of energy quickened on the astral side, inviting him, teasing at him to continue what he'd started.
Zelgadis let the lust and hunger take over, waves of desire finally crashing in to drown any remaining pride and shame, and wrapped his tongue around all he could take of Xelloss' cock. There was not a shred of inhibition left in him now. Only this aggressive hunger, but that seemed to be enough for the Mazoku. Something in Xelloss' spirit seemed to give way and let him draw it into himself, enclose it, pulsing within his reach like the pungent, silky hardness filling his mouth and nudging at the back of his throat.
Sensations, impressions, started to flood into his mind. Salt and musk on his tongue, but tart and cloying to his astral senses, like over-ripened fruit, black grapes fermented into an intoxicating poison, spicy-sweet but redolent with the aroma of spell-blasted ashes. Almost nauseating, and yet it fascinated his senses; he swallowed around the flavors in his mouth and felt a responding surge of burnt-sugar, bitter honey flavor hit his astral senses.
He was only vaguely aware of the aroused state of his own body, and of the familiar feather-touch of heat searing his own skin where Xelloss was now running his hands over his back and shoulder. Xelloss remained curled over him, thighs spread with one leg hooked around behind Zel's waist. he heard Xelloss whispering something or hissing wordlessly, Zelgadis couldn't tell which. He dug his fingers into Xelloss' thigh, his other hand circling the base of Xelloss' cock and moving in a counterpoint rhythm as he sucked up and down the tip, and worked his tongue around every groove and vein and ridge of illusionary flesh he could reach.
Xelloss pushed back, hips flexing and squirming, and took hold of him by the chin - and for a moment Zelgadis was afraid Xelloss was struggling to hold him back. He knew he had no chance of stopping Xelloss if he should decide he'd had enough of this, or, for that matter, if he should choose to turn the tables and simply ram his whole suffocating length down Zel's throat. But that's not what Xelloss was after, after all, at least not yet. Zelgadis felt him shudder, and another heady wave of wine-dark energy throbbed against his astral senses when Xelloss scraped his cock across Zel's sharp canine teeth.
At the same time, sparks dug into his shoulders from the mazoku's fingertips, and a rush of sweetly acidic astral fumes nearly choked his senses. A scream caught in his throat but somehow tore out of him on the astral side in sparks of frantic energy, and Xelloss groaned happily, and a syrupy blend of luscious flavors rolled across Zel's astral tongue, making him thirst for more.
Through the confusing swirl of thought and arousal and ever-shifting astral sensations, Zelgadis suddenly realized, from the way Xelloss hissed his name and jerked against and around him, that he'd brought Xelloss to the brink of whatever convulsion it was that passed for a Mazoku orgasm.
And suddenly realized he had no idea what that actually was. The thought inspired a moment of panic and a sudden urge to pull away, but a stronger desire to take in whatever Xelloss was about to release washed that fear away.
He had time for the barest fleeting thought that he was not anywhere near reaching his own orgasm; he'd quite forgotten to take that into account, but Xelloss was entirely preoccupied and he sure as hell was not touching himself. His disgust at his own chimera form remained as strong as ever, in spite of any pleasure Xelloss had ever given him in this body.
The familiar, automatic wave of repulsion inspired by that thought seemed to send Xelloss over the edge.
He forgot any thought of his own relief, utterly distracted by a sudden surge of an unexpected flavor hitting his senses, like something turned inside-out against his astral form, something almost like hot stone and a bitter-sweet swirl of flavor-feelings that rushed across his astral attention span almost as if it passed through him, and then was gone.
Then he completely lost all focus. The rush of Xelloss' release, salty and electric, flowed into his mouth and down his throat and yet, somehow, it was more heat and pressure than substance, like the almost-tangible taste of a spell released.
And then, frantically, he remembered to try to catch it all in coherent thoughts, in some form he could hold on to in his mind. Sensations crumbled under the weight of words, fleeting thoughts and mismatched images. He growled with the struggle as it all slipped away.
Suddenly, something prompted him to open his eyes and look up, and - there was Xelloss, a swirl of shadow and gleam of eyes looming over him with a wild, demonic grin.
With no warning, Xelloss shoved him backward. He flailed and landed on his back on the floor, and Xelloss pounced on him, and closed his hand around his unrelieved erection, finally driving out every last thought.
Oh fuck, Zelgadis sobbed, in his mind if not aloud, furious and desperate. Xelloss laughed, although he couldn't know why Zelgadis was in such a swirl of emotion now, a peak of frustration even Xelloss might never have felt from him before. He almost had it, he thought as he glared up at the Mazoku, but then his head rolled back and hit the floor with a bang, and his hips spasmed up into Xelloss' hand of their own accord, and all he could do was dig his fingertips into the floor boards and beg - wordlessly - until Xelloss took mercy on him and got him off.
Afterward, Xelloss curled like a cat onto the floor beside him, watching him with gleaming eyes. Zelgadis watched him back, though only out of the corner of his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling, thoughtlessly staring at shadows from the dying firelight, and listening to his own breath simmer back to normal.
"That was certainly worth a day spent in the company of the Mala," Xelloss said, entirely too smug and happy about it.
Zelgadis rolled his eyes, which was a little difficult given the wave of post-orgasmic exhaustion flowing through his entire body. "A mazoku's day well spent scrambling two human's brains, I'd say," he muttered.
"You could hardly compare the two occasions," Xelloss said doubtfully. "That was merely sustenance, but this was better than dessert after a banquet! And it seems, I hope, your hunger was satisfied as well, hm?"
Zelgadis managed to grunt, something like laughter but not quite.
"Satisfied... is not quite... the word," he sighed. He rolled to the side and nuzzled Xelloss' shoulder, as he gave up on thought and let his mind fall into the wordless dark of sleep.
* to be continued *