Author's Note: Yes, Laine is
alive (hard to believe, I know). So here's the sequel, but I'm thinking
I just might make this into a chapters sort of thing... you heard me, chapters.
Meaning: there's more to come.
I guess you could say there's some
yaoi hints in there, but it wasn't intentional, I can assure you of that
(it's okay, you can read it Mash ^^). Umm, I worked very hard on this sequel,
and under a lot of stress too, so it'd be nice if I could get some feedback.
Thanks again!
Author: Laine
Blinded
Something moved in the darkness.
The rustling of clothing, the shaky gesture of a hand to a forehead wet
with perspiration and covered in tousled brown hair. It was usually so
fine, so soft, but now it hung limp, matted with blood and sweat. Beneath
the strands of blood-soaked hair rested two fine eyebrows, drawn together,
furrowed. Just below them were the eyes, though closed in an unsatisfying
sleep. They were far more interesting when he was awake; intelligent and
cold. It was always entertaining to try to find some hint of emotion in
those eyes that seemed to hold so many secrets, yet revealed nothing.
A sigh escaped from parted lips of
a pale pinkish hue, a great contrast to the ashen complexion of the skin.
Something was murmured in the restless slumber, but was too faint to be
discerned. Then the mouth closed, the pale, perspiring face suddenly drawn
into a frown.
All of this was studied under the
intense gaze of a pair of sinister red eyes, glowing with anticipation.
They were completely and utterly fascinated by the still figure that lay
there, watching fists clench and unclench, the rise and fall of the chest.
Ears strained to hear the faint, whispering breath in the overpowering
silence of the darkness.
Dilandau could hear his own steady
breathing in the silence. He reached over to touch the still figure lying
before him. Delicate gloved fingers traced a line along the jaw of the
sleeping figure, over the pale pink lips, and brushed the dark, damp hair
from the burning forehead.
You're too soft, too fragile in
your sleep, Labariel. You look absolutely... helpless.
Dilandau scowled.
Dragonslayers are supposed to
be strong- like me. They're supposed to obey orders, my orders. They all
listen to me... they're all the same... what makes you so different?
He reached again for the unmoving
figure, placing a hand under the chin. Dilandau tilted his head to one
side. "What is it about you that makes me hate you so much, yet..." He
said aloud, roughly shaking the pale face he held in the palm of his hand.
Dark brown hair swayed savagely from side to side and eventually hung limp
as Dilandau released his grasp.
Then his eyes narrowed, his lips
pressed together as he watched the still form lying before him. He leaned
forward, his hands hovering over the figure. "There's something about you..."
He reached for a strand of the limp, dark hair and pulled. It came out
easily, and Dilandau stared at it for a moment before letting it fall to
the floor. "... I'm going to find out. One way or another." A grin played
upon Dilandau's lips as he turned to leave. At the door he stopped himself
and turned around.
"Sweet dreams, Migel." He grinned
again and left the room, pulling the door closed behind him.
***
Voices... that voice... where
is it coming from? Wide eyes opened to complete darkness. The voice
had faded, and the still figure lay alone in the silence. There was not
a sound from the shadows, and it was deathly cold.
Where... where am I?
A sudden, sharp pain. A choked cry
broke the silence. The figure writhed in agony as the throbbing, pulsating
pain coursed throughout weak limbs. Hot tears streamed down a dirty, pallid
face. No one heard the young soldier crying in the darkness.
***
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in."
The door opened slowly and a small,
blonde head peered into the room. "L-Lord Dilandau?"
"I said come in, Chesta." The aforementioned
Dragonslayer nodded meekly and stepped inside the intimidating room. His
Lord and Master stood, hands behind his back, staring out the large window
of his lavishly furnished quarters, seemingly lost in thought. Chesta stood
by the door, fidgeting as he awaited his commander.
"Shut the door." He did as he was
told.
"You wanted to see me sir?"
Dilandau nodded the affirmative,
but didn't move from his position by the window. "Terrible weather we're
having."
Chesta's gaze went from his commander's
back, to that of the view outside. It was a gloomy, rainy day. It was raining
hard, and it looked as if a storm was approaching, but compared to the
torrents of rain they received the night before, today's weather seemed
tame. "Yes sir. It's been raining ever since..." Chesta trailed off. He
knew full well he wasn't to bring up the night when Migel had... he had...
well, he just couldn't bring it up in front of his commander. That would
be just stupid. I wouldn't want to trouble Lord Dilandau, seeing as he
already has so much on his mind... this whole incident with Migel will
just add to his stress. And that was the last thing anyone wanted...
"I never asked for your- what did
you just say?" Dilandau spun around to face the blonde, causing him to
take an involuntary step back.
"I- I..." Chesta gulped. "I just
meant it's been raining s-since yesterday, sir." His commander looked at
him skeptically for a moment, studying his face. Chesta could feel his
face growing hot as Dilandau stared him down. Can he tell that I'm lying?
Why is he taking so long? My face must be as red as a beet. Just come out
with it and accuse me already! He must already know... Dammit, I was never
a good liar anyway...
Chesta stood very still, wondering
what sort of punishment he would receive for lying to his commander. A
beating? Probably. You deserve it you moron. He thought, inwardly
kicking himself for lying in the first place. Maybe I should just confess
now and be done with it.
With a look of amusement on his face,
Dilandau watched the smaller Dragonslayer fight his internal struggle.
It was so obvious that Chesta was lying, he was never any good at it. The
fool.
"Sir?" Chesta began, before Dilandau
simply shrugged and turned back to his window. "Sir?" He repeated himself.
Dilandau spoke, though keeping his
back turned. "You can tell me what happened between you and Migel now.
I'm very curious." He couldn't help but grin when he saw Chesta's jaw drop
in the reflection of the window.
"H-how did you... I mean, yes sir."
Chesta hung his head.
"Come here." The silver haired boy
motioned Chesta over to the window with a wave of his hand. The other boy
hesitated for only a moment.
"You're not- I'm not going to be
punished?"
Dilandau smiled. "Come." Chesta made
his way over to the window. Dilandau patted the windowsill beside him.
"Sit." He said. Chesta sat. He looked up into the fiery eyes of his leader,
awaiting his next order. But Dilandau merely turned back to gazing outside.
"Sir?" No answer. He waited another
moment. "Lord Dilandau?" He said in more confidence. Dilandau turned around,
slowly and leaned towards Chesta, his lips right by his ear.
"Now..." He whispered. Chesta frowned,
perplexed.
"I'm sorry sir, I couldn't hear-"
He was cut off by the abrupt sensation of pain at the back of his head.
Dilandau had grabbed a handful of his golden hair and pulled his head backwards,
almost hitting it against the glass window.
Dilandau roughly twisted the fistful
of hair in his hand. Chesta whimpered in pain and confusion as his neck
was jerked back once again. "Now..." He repeated, this time his face only
inches away.
"Tell me everything."
Chesta had no choice but to obey.
***
Migel's throat was sore from crying.
Fresh tears fell from his face, and despite his efforts to stop them, they
still came, regardless. He squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. Soldiers
don't cry... I don't cry. What is this that I'm feeling? He had been
in battles where his wounds were so serious that he had almost died. On
two occasions. But he hadn't cried then. Why now? Why should this time
be any different?
He vehemently shook his head, ignoring
the intense pain it brought, and the stinging in the back of his eyes.
He tried his eyes again, opening them to survey his surroundings. It was
pitch black, wherever he was. Migel tried blinking, but the darkness remained.
He figured that he was in a basement room of some sort, he had already
established that he was lying on a bed, but that was all he knew. What
he really wanted to know was why. Why should he wake up in this unfamiliar
room, and a very dark, damp one at that?
And the pain. He had never felt anything
so intense before. His head, his arms, his legs, his... everything ached
terribly. Migel let out a groan as another wave of pain swept through his
body. The tears that had subsided for the moment returned.
No... I can't start crying now.
I can't. I never cry!
Migel wiped his face with shaking
hands. "I can't... what is wrong with me?" He rubbed his eyes, in an effort
to make the tears stop flowing. It did nothing. It was if there was something
inside him that needed to be released, and now that it had come out, it
wouldn't go back.
"No... Stop it!" He cried, now frantically
rubbing at his face. Why wouldn't it stop? He was usually so in control
of his emotions, could hide his pain so well. In battle he was cold, fearless,
a killer. His training as a Dragonslayer had hardened his resolve.
He had felt nothing then. Killers don't feel anything. But now... he felt...
He felt sick.
The darkness enveloped him once more.
***
"I'm sorry I have to do this..."
"... but Lord Dilandau..."
Dilandau...
"You're not dead... yet."
The world was spinning. Black and
white, colours swirled and danced in front of his eyes. The flashes of
colour were soon gone, and replaced by streaks of red that seemed to trickle
slowly downward, as if they were falling raindrops. His mouth opened, a
shadowed face uplifted, trying to catch the rain on a waiting tongue. He
could feel the rain fall in warm droplets upon his sweating face. He smiled.
"Burn..."
What?
The smile left his face. The rain
stopped almost as soon as it had started, and the air grew cold. The vivid
colours faded into a dull, hazy red. The crimson haze swirled carelessly
about him, brushing against his skin. He waved an arm in a half-hearted
attempt to get the fog away from him, but that only made it seem to get
closer, so close that it clung to his skin. He felt a faint warm sensation
from the mist-like substance, then it began to burn.
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
And then he was on fire, with bright
red flames slowly and painfully burning his flesh away. Like a snake it
licked at his raw, exposed skin, causing him to moan in pain.
Make it stop...
But the flames did not subside, but
rather intensified their heat. He was blinded by the pain as it seared
through his body, and he screamed in agony. He could hear laughter all
around him. No matter how loud he screamed he could still hear it. Mocking...
malefic.
Make it stop!
Long bloody fingers were reaching
towards him, touching him, tracing trails of the dark red liquid across
his burning flesh. The laughter continued, despite his screams of pain,
despite his protests against the invasions he felt from the long fingers.
Then a face emerged from the flames, glowing demon-like eyes meeting his
own. The face grew closer and closer, with lips curved into a twisted grin.
"You're not dead... yet."
The flames grew stronger.
"I'm sorry I have to do this...
but it's all for Lord Dilandau..."
Red and orange blurred his vision,
he could feel himself growing weaker. He was losing consciousness. He was
falling... and all the while the echoing laughter rang in his ears.
"Dilandau!"
He sat up, breathless and perspiring,
clutching at his head. Migel didn't realize that he had been dreaming until
he called out that name in hs sleep. He shuddered as the events of his
dream ran through his mind. The flames... the bloody fingers... the laughter...
Dilandau... Migel shook his head, though it pained him to do so, trying
to dispel the graphic images that so terrified him in his slumber. He squeezed
his eyes shut, hoping that perhaps he would be able to block out the sight
of the flames around him.
"It was all a dream." He told himself,
taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. He exhaled, feeling much better
already. "It was all just a ridiculous... stupid dream."
"Your dreams my be over Migel, but
your nightmare is just beginning."
Blue eyes snapped open. "W-who said
that? Who's there?" He croaked, his voice hoarse. He looked all around
himself, but saw nothing. He heard a faint chuckle from his right and turned
in that direction. Nothing again. Migel frowned in confusion. He was in
complete darkness. But someone was there. And he was afraid he already
knew who it was.
"Show yourself Dilandau." Migel growled,
searching the darkness for some sign of the silver-haired boy. There was
none. He jumped out of the bed, his fists clenched. "Show yourself!" He
said again, trying desperately to fight off the waves of nausea that assailed
him as he got to his feet.
"Tsk, tsk. No need to get all uptight.
I'm right here." There was a pause. "It's nice to know that you're thinking
about me."
"Shut up!"
The faceless voice let out a brief
laugh. "You were calling out to me in your sleep. Would it be safe to assume
that you're-"
"I said shut up!" A hard blow to
his cheek knocked Migel off his feet and onto the ground.
"Who gave you permission to speak?
Last time I checked, I was the commander. Show some respect."
Migel struggled to get to his feet,
to retaliate, but was pushed back down again, his head hitting the cold
floor. He winced in pain, but did not cry out.
"Come on now, get up."
Migel lay there, unmoving. Stupid
bastard. I'm never doing anything he says ever again. Even if it kills
me, I won't listen. I don't need to listen to him, or anyone else for that
matter.
Dilandau was beginning to lose his
patience. "I said get up. Get up, damn you!" He grabbed the back of Migel's
collar and dragged the boy to his feet. "Why do you have to be so difficult?"
Migel simply glared into the darkness
and said nothing. What a dirty bastard he is. Keeping me in the dark
like this... the coward. Why doesn't he just show himself now and get this
over with? He can't possibly be afraid of me. I'm just a lowly Dragonslayer.
"Answer me!" Migel received another
blow, this time in his stomach, causing him to double over. He was struck
again in the back, and he fell to the floor once more. He stubbornly pushed
himself back to his feet.
"If you won't answer me, at least
fight back, coward." He gave the boy another shove that sent him reeling
into the bed he had previously been lying on.
Migel's eyes blazed. "Coward? You're
the coward Dilandau!" He swung a fist into the empty darkness. He could
hear Dilandau's laughter at his pathetic attempt to hit him. "You're the
one who's keeping me in the dark!" He swung again, enraged at Dilandau's
blatant cowardice.
Dilandau easily ducked away from
the slayer's next few attempted punches. "What are you talking about Labariel?
It's as bright as daylight in here!" He dodged another punch and gave one
out to the flailing Migel. "You're really off your mark." He added, grinning.
"You liar! I can't see anything!
Stop using the dark as your cover, you goddamn coward!" Migel swore as
he pulled back for another, missing his target yet again.
Dilandau stopped suddenly, tilting
his head to one side. "You can't see me?"
"Of course not, you cheat!"
The red eyes widened in surprise.
"Migel, I'm right in front of you. How can you not see me?" He said, the
grin on his face quickly replaced by a frown.
Migel paused for a moment, gasping
for breath. "You fucking liar." He directed his next punch to the source
of the voice. He was surprised to find that it connected, and was happy
to hear the crack of his fist hitting his superior's jaw. He heard Dilandau's
sharp intake of breath, then the sound of his body falling to the floor.
Serves
him right. Bastard.
Dilandau sat up and rubbed his jaw,
and found a small trickle of blood flowing from his lower lip. Damn.
He wiped the blood away with the back of his hand and stared at up at Migel
from the ground. The other boy didn't even look his way. In fact, he was
looking the other way. His back was turned to him.
"Migel?" The Dragonslayer spun around
and Dilandau stood up. "Migel?"
"What? What do you want from me?"
Dilandau realized Migel was breathing
heavily. He's been through tougher training than this, without even
breaking a sweat. What could possibly-
His thoughts were interrupted as
Migel said again, "What?" Dilandau shook his head.
"Can you see me?" He asked.
"No! I told you before, no!"
Dilandau stepped directly in front
of the boy, slowly waving a hand in front of his face. "Now?"
Migel shook his head. "No dammit,
are you deaf?" He shouted. Why was Dilandau asking him these dumb questions?
He knew full well that he couldn't see a thing before. Why should it be
any different now, only a few minutes later?
"What about now?"
Migel could see absolutely nothing.
He suddenly felt a pair of hands grab him roughly by the shoulders and
shake him. "Let go of me!" He tried pulling out of Dilandau's grasp, but
found for some reason, he was getting weaker and weaker. "Let go..." He
found himself speaking slowly, his voice shaking. The grip on his shoulders
released.
"What's happening to me?" He was
falling again.
Dilandau's mouth dropped open as
he saw Migel pitch forward. He ran over and caught him before he fell any
further. He shook the boy again. "Migel? Migel!" He had closed his eyes.
Dilandau laid him carefully onto the ground, frowning in concern. Is
he sick? What the hell just happened?
He felt his forehead, and found it
to be wet with perspiration and very hot. "Migel? Answer me!" The blue
eyes fluttered open, and Dilandau noticed for the first time that the eyes
were not focused on him. They weren't focused on anything. "Migel!
Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Migel looked in his direction, not
at Dilandau, but through him. "Look at me!"
"It hurts... it's... it's burning..."
Migel said, his voice a mere whisper.
Dilandau gasped as a sudden realization
hit him.
"My Gods, Migel! You're... you're
blind!"