Disclaimer: I do NOT own Slayers. I am not making any profit from this. I just love writing. I can't stop. It's a disease. Oh, and the 'Sacrada Blade'? I made it all up. I had to.
- CAUGHT UP IN TIME - by spare
CHAPTER 1 : LATE NIGHT VISITOR
She could hear them. Following close by in the distance, shadowy cloaked figures gliding swiftly through the air, after her, chasing her. But she moved faster than the wind, evading, escaping. At least for now.
Her body ached to unleash her power at them, destroy the creatures until there was nothing left but dust. Kill them all. It would be so easy. And quite enjoyable. But she held back. She needed her full strength to complete the task at hand.
There wasn't enough time.
She had what she came after. Now all she had to do was find the area where the spell can take full effect.
To the east. Tall rugged mountains, reddish brown in the dying light of the sun. Ruins of what was once great marble spires reaching for the sky.
Her pursuers were nowhere to be seen, but she could still sense them faintly, gaining in on her. She had to act fast.
Squinting down at her bleak surroundings, she soon found it. Dark brown and white lines, intertwined together in an intricate circular formation. Close up, the lines looked nothing more than peculiarly chalky patches of earth eroded from the mountain side. In truth, these brown and white intersections formed a large and quite powerful runic symbol.
Resolutely she hovered nearer, into the center of the rune. The air crackled around her as she entered, reacting to the stone pendant hanging loosely around her neck, as expected.
A few more moments and her pursuers would be close enough to track her astral signature. If she failed to do this, she was done for.
'That's life,' she sighed.
She closed her eyes, and proceeded to cast the spell.
"Lord of the Darkness and Four Worlds,
I beseech thy fragments; by all of the power thou possesseth,
grant the heavens' wrath to my hands;
unleash the sword of dark, freezing nothingness;
by our power, our combined might,
let us walk as one along the path of destruction
Laguna Blade!!!"
The wind howled energy as the spell took effect. Her purple bangs swayed, parted on either side of her face, black cloak flapping wildly in the breeze. The power surging through her burned, the pain excruciating. Her eyes snapped open, revealing amethyst slits, dark and unreflective, staring blindly at their surroundings.
Swirling darkness formed between her hands.
'So far so good,' she thought, congratulating herself. 'Now for the hard part.'
She began to recite the words, her voice barely above a whisper. The chant ran smoothly across her tongue, freeing, summoning the arcane magic long forgotten... By... Forgotten... Echoes... Concentrate.. Have to... Buried in the flow of time... Concentrate...
The power surging within her was amplified, pure energy ripping through every part of her being. Pain. Absolute, mind-numbing pain.
She screamed.
As if in answer to her cry, the stone pendant glowed. Dark red blood, ending to nothingness. Yellow gold, pure white flame. The two powers fused together within the orb. Ready and alive.
'No turning back now.'
She had awakened the power. Now it flowed through her freely, begging to be released.
Silent tears streaming down pale cheeks, she forced the power to the black blade waiting between her hands.
"Sacrada Blade!!!" she screamed, feeling the surge of tingling energy pulse beneath her fingers.
Immediately the black blade seemed to dispel between her hands, only to be replaced by blinding golden light. Streaks of swirling darkness sputtered upon the new blade's brilliant edge.
She broke abruptly from the trance, alert and aware. It had taken more out of her than she anticipated; she barely had enough power to maintain her levitation spell. The words were lost to her now, until it was time to recast -- but for now -- she'd done it! She cheered inwardly, until she felt the sick, soulless auras of the cloaked figures behind her.
"Taaainnttteddd Ooonnnne!!!!" who, or what, was the leader of her pursuers hissed through its slash of a mouth. They were gaining in on her, the cold, disgusting things.
Ah, but no matter.
Smiling winningly, crystalline blue eyes wide open, she gave the approaching figures a friendly wave, then pulled down her left eyelid and made a face. She turned around, the powerful golden blade crackling in one hand.
"Ja ne, losers," she whispered as she prepared to strike.
She braced herself and struck the bright golden shaft of energy through seemingly empty space. What was empty air gave way, revealing a dark, gleaming gash between a rift like torn cloth. Ignoring the icy shrieks behind her, she plunged into the opening, enveloping herself in a swirling tunnel of nothingness.
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The storm raged on. Rain fell in torrents, a million icy drops splattering on the rooftop of the the modest two-story house that served as Filia's pottery and tea shop. The surrounding houses and establishments in the sleeping city fared no better. The empty streets glistened with rain water, scattering various articles of rubbish from the overflowing gutters. The howling wind threatened to uproot what trees were left to uproot, and the tops of houses shook alarmingly, attempting to get blown off. Lightning streaked through the night sky every now and then, followed closely by rumbling thunder.
Filia clutched the shawl around herself more tightly, shivering from the cold. She had made herself a nice hot cup of tea to calm her nerves. The wood burned brightly from its spot in the fire place, casting light on the surrounding area and warming the dining room where she sat behind a table. It helped a little, but it was still close to freezing inside the house.
Jiras and Gravos were away for the week, visiting some friends in the western regions. Little Val slept quietly upstairs, undisturbed by the tempest outside. For that she was thankful, at least.
"Damned storm," she muttered under her breath. It had rained nonstop for three days already, and in all that time she had not been able to open shop, or even step outside a few blocks for that matter. She was practically alone in the house, fast running out of supplies and firewood, and she could do nothing much about it. Except wait it all out.
She hated waiting.
And she hated not having anyone to converse with for three days straight.
'Darn, even that namagomi's presence would be more than welcome at this time,' she thought to herself. 'And that's saying something. The jerk keeps showing up around the house even when he's not wanted. Though he hasn't showed up for nearly a week already. I wonder what's happened to him?' Inwardly she shook her head. 'And why would I be worried about him at all? He's probably caught up in one of his master's missions again. By next week he'll probably teleport himself back here, annoying the hell out of me.'
The least she could do for now was treasure a Mazoku-free weekend. Though she found it hard to do so.
"It's this damned storm," she cursed again, then cursed more, because the damned rain was making her swear, something a woman of her station in life shouldn't do.
There was a knock at the door.
Filia looked up from her tea, the insistent knocking jerking her out of her thoughts. 'Now who'd be crazy enough to visit at this hour?' She wondered, standing up and heading for the door.
She shivered again, adjusting her shawl, and swung the door wide.
"Who is--" she began, before her eyes fell on the soaking figure half kneeling, half laying, on the porch.
It was a girl, looking about fifteen years of age, light purple hair a tangled mass framing a delicate but badly bruised face. Her dark cloak was wet and ripped in several places, as well as what Filia could see of her other clothes. Her left arm and part of her neck was streaked with blood and dirt. Hazy blue eyes looked slowly up at her before managing a weak smile.
"Mother," the girl whispered, before drifting to unconsciousness and collapsing limply on the hard wood floor.
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Author's Ramblings: Darn, could it be more obvious? You could easily guess who the purple-haired girl is by now! But I'm not going to just go out and say it. Yes, Miss Spellcaster is on a mission, and she *borrowed* Lina's spell. And I made up a new spell based on it. If you think there's anything deathly wrong about this, please tell me! I just really got this urge to type my hands off!!!
P.S. REALLY SORRY for the delay in uploading this. I was experiencing, cough, hack *problems* trying to get in and well... Anyway, gomen nasai, and thank you for waiting. ^_^
AND XELLOS SHOWS UP AT LAST IN THE NEXT PAGE...