Okay, I went ahead and wrote Chapter 2, even though few asked me to. ^^;; I wanted to anyway, this fic is fun to write. It gets a bit more, uh, violent here, but it's not that striking. Read on?
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He had become half accustomed to the cycle of the bright and dark by then. He lapsed into long periods of restful stillness, then would pull himself away from it to spend some time looking out into the strange, colorful, light-filled world he couldn't reach. Something lay between him and that spectacle, something strangely solid, separating his existence from that of the colors and moving shapes. Moving, conscious minds, floating in and out with their wispy whiteness swirling about them. Eyes... dark eyes, light eyes, peering up towards him. Those gazes made him feel like he was being pressed backwards, away from them.
Those souls would come and go, draw near and then grow distant again. Their ability to push against the pulling force of gravity was amazing; he was not nearly that strong. Constantly roaming, they would appear before him for a moment, then meander off in a different direction, in total control. He watched them, astounded for a while, then curious, and then viewed them with a deep dislike.
He opened his eyes a slit. A crooked one had come, long, bony fingers stroking at dials and buttons delicately, almost nervously. The soul's crystal-framed gaze snuck towards him, then quickly darted back to what he was doing when he realized that the other was awake. He knew this one. This creature of edges and lines came often, dancing his hands at machinery, and fading away. The coolness would often become heavy and intoxicating after he left, bribing him to drift away again. He disliked this one most of all.
He forced his arm up until he could push against the shell holding him in and tapped his fingers against the barrier. The thing's nervous look shot up again, and this time did not flee, eyes growing round and full of trepidation. He tapped his fingers against the solidity again, and the figure stepped back, grew blurry, and then vanished.
Kuja's gaze was directed towards the Black Waltz, but he did not see the small creature sleeping like an angel... a dark angel... within the liquid Mist, but something more, something to come of the great event about to unfold. He had been disappointed with the liberation of the first two, neither able to maintain consciousness in the thin air, but he had high hopes for this one, his triumph, his ambition almost perfectly realized.
The silvery warrior began to chuckle softly under his breath, as he reached up to lightly finger a forbidden key. "Sorry to disturb your dreams," he whispered sweetly before he struck it with the gentlest, most soft touch of his signature spell.
There was a great moan from the chamber. The Waltz's eyes opened as the liquid Mist began to vibrate within its container. He blinked with confusion as its heavy center pulled towards the front, its great mass causing the whole room to quake. Something new rose in him, that he had never felt before, and would have regarded curiously if it had not been for the severity of the current situation. He was completely and utterly terrified.
The glass gates exploded outwards, the Mist leaping towards Kuja in a mass of blue-gray foam, the Black Waltz cast mercilessly to the ground. Upon striking the heat of the air, the Mist evaporated, becoming curling clouds of toxic matter, and began rising towards the ceiling, where it prowled in silvery sheets.
Three's mind was filled with flashes of burning red pain. He choked miserably until an instinct kicked in and he breathed, taking ragged gulps of air, and began to cough and splutter on the strange substance. Fire cut into his eyes and he shut them tightly to it, but it continued to rip into his flesh and wings with a vengeance, fanning his fear. His ears were set on fire from the severity of the noise he had just begun to perceive. He thrashed miserably, desperately struggling to find his way back to the safety and comfort of the cool chamber of darkness.
Kuja simply smiled at the writhing child, watching as he ran out of energy and began to concentrate on respiration. Time ticked by, and the Waltz slowly began to loosen the knots in his limbs and rest against the cold floor. The young man knelt by him, maintaining that sinister smirk, gazing at the patch of darkness beneath the hat. The little mage slowly opened an eye to look up at Kuja, a beautiful, red-gold eye, darker than those of the others, but still bright, shining like a distant sun. The silver-haired man's grin widened, pleased with the prophecy of destruction, and stood, motioning for a guard.
"Take him to the prepared room," he laughed, with a nonchalant air. "Oh, and do be careful with him. I want him to be in perfect condition for the... experiment."
Three peered into that pale face, framed with feathery silver, then winced with pain and shut his eyes as a guard picked him up and carried him under an arm. Every step hurt him terribly, making him cringe from pain in his chest and frail, nervously fluttering heart. It seemed to go on forever before there was a pause, then a second, involuntary leap against something solid yet soft and something very solid, hard, and painful that hit him squarely in the forehead.
He battled with unconsciousness for a while, then dared slowly look out at the world again. His eyes were watery, but he could see make out blurry, colorful shapes. The colors were even more vivid than those he had seen through the coolness... deep, angry colors and colors of unease, mostly. It took a little while for his vision to focus, in which time he became very interested in a dark line which was apparently what he had bumped his head on.
His curiosity was very strong, but he couldn't make much of it out from that angle. He closed his eyes halfway and asked himself if he could manage to move. He was still aching terribly, but found that the gravity was much less in the free air, and after minimal struggling had righted himself to the point that he had a clear view of the object. A dark line... a dark line leading to something glittering and magnificent, curved, and beautiful. He stared at it, then slowly leaned back into a kneeling position and tried touching it.
The dark, hard part he had hit himself on felt smooth and pleasant. He ran his hands up and down it, enjoying the pleasing sensation it gave him. It seemed inviting, agreeable... begging to be handled, begging to be touched. A sudden idea grasped Three, and he fastened both hands tightly on it and lifted. He instantly regretted it as pain returned to his arms, but it did not seem too heavy, and seemed to enjoy being picked up even more. It was charming, and he instantly felt attached to it. Yet something about the brilliantly shining arc on the end warned him that it would be unwise to handle that part.
Curiosity burned brightly within him. As the soreness in his limbs lessened, he dragged the staff around and explore his surroundings. He learned his legs, though they were weak from never being used inside the cool chamber that seemed to be fading away from his memory, and rejoiced in the power to move himself... like the strange souls he had watched before. There was no possible way he could become bored... he was delighted with the sensory overload he gained from trying to comprehend the little room.
It was not long until the guards returned, however. They entered just as he had begun to investigate a large rack of promising somethings. He looked up, and stared, and they stared back at him. He recalled his trip to this little oasis, and his eyes narrowed as he backed away a little, unwilling to go through that again. With a fair bit of effort he righted the staff, and held it close, though he was not exactly sure what he was going to do with it.
There was no movement for a while, and at last one guard leaned over and gave him a strange smile, her mouth a squirming line. "Come on," she said sweetly, gesturing to him. "Come."
Come.
The mental command struck harder than the guard's, and Three took a slightly questioning step towards them. The guard nodded, the voice beckoning him forward, and he began to follow the two lady soldiers down long, dark passageways and twisting corridors to a great, open room.
He was led into a large, sunken-in rectangle beneath rows and rows of velvety seats, most empty except for a few lines of conscious souls he recognized from those sleepy days, quickly evaporating. The female guards suddenly vanished, filling him with a feeling of great anticipation and dread, causing to cling to the staff even tighter, as if he felt it would protect him. Nothing happened for a long time, and then a light, melodic laughter drifted down from above. Three traced its source, up to the face of the silver creature that had brought him into this madness.
"It is time to begin!" Kuja shouted. "Bring it."
Great doors at the other side of the box heaved open. Something stepped through them, its glossy fur shining in the artificial light, its nose twitching madly at the strange scents floating around it, the tip of its tail jerking back and forth to counter the weight of its body as it scurried forward. Three thought the shape of the creature was perfectly absurd, but there was a strange affinity to it, and its spontaneous actions were almost appealing.
Then the monster's head raised, and its gaze fixed on the Black Waltz. Its eyes suddenly began to glow red, and it crouched low to the ground, emitting a low, threatening hiss. Three felt the menace rolling off it in heavy sheets, and a spark of fear was ignited, and some instinct told him to brace himself.
Kuja's quiet laugh echoed as the Mu charged straight at the small Waltz, snarling in its small voice and foaming madly at the mouth. Another instinct told Three to bring his staff in front of him to ward off the offending blow. The Mu bounced back, still hissing and spitting, eyes and intense scarlet. Three panicked, his reaction to flee, but something told him to keep his back covered and he regained control, turning to face the little creature and stepping backwards towards the edge of the great rectangle. He deflected the Mu's rushes again and again, growing steadily more confused, not understanding what the hopelessly miniature and ridiculous little monster was trying to accomplish with its mad fury. Exhaustion crept up to him after a while, and he was jarred more and more by each blow, beginning to lose his grip on control.
"Enough..." Kuja whispered, though everyone in the chamber could hear him. "Kill it."
The Mu gave one last flying leap and broke through the Waltz's guard, sinking its small, sharp fangs into his arm. Pain flashed through Three's mind as he stared at it, hanging off his arm, eyes still crazed and furious. Its bite tightened, growing more vicious, and drawing more terrible pain...
Kill...
With a burst of strength, Three threw it off his arm. It landed in the sandy bottom of the pit, jaws opened, teeth coated with a dark red liquid and still, still holding fragments of torn blue fabric. Three's eyes flashed, and the stepped back, wielding the staff like a true weapon.
KILL!!!
Electricity ripped down along his arms and the length of his staff, scorching the air and ground. He bit down hard and pointed the bladed head of the staff towards the Mu, screaming inwardly as a massive bolt of lightning shot from the tip and smashed directly into it. The creature shrieked in agony as the thunder ruthlessly tore at its nerves, exploding through it in one tremendous blast. It gurgled helplessly as the last bits of static and its consciousness fizzled out into the air.
Dizzy, Three looked down at his injured arm, where there was a great tear in the sleeve. Dark blood dripped from the wound, little shocks of sore pain rising to the surface. His head began to ache. Kuja laughed, laughing madly in triumph.
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It was a decent-sized chapter, at last! ^^ Please review, it'll make me vewwy happy. ' '