Treize sat very still as he listened to a report sent to him by Lady Une, his face showing nothing of what he was feeling. The messenger finished reading it and stood waiting for a response of some sort. Treize stared into space for several minutes, waiting to see if his man would continue standing at attention while he waited. He was not disappointed - the man didn't budge. "Please leave that for me to look over," Treize said, waving a hand gracefully at the table. "What is your name?"
"Adams, your majesty," the man said, placing the document on the table.
"Thank you, Adams. That will be all, now." Treize carefully made note of the boy's name. He'd ask Adams' superiors what they thought of the boy, and if it checked out with what he'd observed, then he'd recommend him for a promotion. Unexpected moves like that were a good idea - it kept his underlings on their toes, and his men loved him for it.
He dismissed the matter from his mind for later consideration and went back to the report. Lady Une was nothing if not thorough. Somehow she'd managed to get an entire transcript of the dialogue between Quatre, Queen Relena, and his own ambassador. If he wasn't so angry with his ambassador's performance, he would have thought the entire situation laughable. It would have been quite entertaining to watch a fifteen-year-old boy make a fool of the pompous ambassador in front of the entire court. Treize recalled that he'd sent the odious man there simply to get him out of the way in the first place.
But losing a verbal sparring match to a child, even one as talented as Quatre was at court games, was unacceptable. It had been an audacious move on Quatre's part to appear before the Queen as mages, and then to use Treize's own propaganda against him, but an ambassador as experienced as Alex should have known how to turn the situation around. It didn't really matter. Lady Une said she had 'disciplined' him, and had asked for a replacement to be sent out immediately. Incompetence on that level was not permissible.
At least now he knew where they were, even if they were temporarily out of reach. Lady Une had already stationed men around every possible exit of the castle with crystals that detected magic, so there wouldn't be any danger of the boys sneaking out under an illusion. They had to come out sometime, and there were dozens of ununiformed Oz agents waiting for them. The Lady was still trying to figure out how they'd gotten into the city and where they'd been for the past month and a half.
That was all well and good - so why was he so unhappy with the report? Soon they would be back in his hands and things would be back under control. Why did the situation fill him with a sense of foreboding?
Maybe it was that damned Queen who'd protected them, and used them to insult him in the process. A bit naïve, but a popular ruler, who'd taken over the country when her brother was deposed because he was a mage. Even the king of another country hadn't been out of his reach, he thought smugly. Milliardo Peacecraft had reluctantly surrendered his throne when Treize declared that he would have no dealings with a faery. The small Sank kingdom couldn't survive without interaction with the much larger Oz kingdom, and their king knew that. Rather than watch his country slowly suffocate under Treize's influence, he gave up the throne and disappeared before any of Treize's (disguised) Hunters could pick him up.
Apparently the young queen was still holding a grudge over the incident. A bad policy in politics, especially given the size of his standing army outnumbered her entire population 2:1, but possibly useful for him. So what was it...
He thought about it for a while longer, but was unable to come up with a reason for his unease. Finally he was forced to abandon the search - he had official state business to attend to. The search continued, but he did have a country to keep running.
-------------------------------------------
"Relena its good to see you again," Zechs Marquise said with a formal bow. "You said that you had something of interest to me here?" He was very proud of the way that he allowed none of the impatience he felt to show in his voice. He loved his sister dearly, and she was a wise ruler, but she didn't understand him at all.
Former sister, he tried to remind himself, already knowing the effort was doomed. Strange how easily he left all aspects of his former life behind, save this one - he couldn't stop thinking of the Queen as his sister, although he'd forsaken all ties to protect her.
"Yes. You know those documents and old scrolls that you removed from the library?"
"Yes."
"In the last few weeks, two separate groups have shown definite interest in those very scrolls."
Zechs raised his eyebrows before he remembered that Relena wouldn't be able to see the expression under the damned mask that he always wore now to disguise his identity. It was a pretty fiction - half of the court knew who he was anyway, but it kept the Oz ambassador from noticing him. It seemed like this time she really did have something of interest to tell him. "Who?"
"The first was Lady Une of Oz. It's a good thing you removed those scrolls - I ran out of excuses to keep her out of the library after the first three weeks.," Relena frowned slightly at what she obviously saw as a failure on her part. "She's mostly given up now, but last week, an old friend of ours arrived."
Zechs couldn't imagine who she was talking about. They'd had a fine enough childhood, he supposed, considering both of their parents were killed when they were quite young and they'd been raised by tutors, but they'd had virtually no friends. The guards were afraid of assassination attempts by anyone, so the only time they saw other kids their own age was when visiting nobles and dignitaries brought their children along. He could probably count those occurrences on one hand.
Relena was getting awfully good at reading his expressions based on what she could see of his face - basically his mouth. "Quatre Winner."
"Oh." That explained it. He'd been... what? Eight or nine when the Winner family came to visit, with every one of their uncountable daughters, ranging from ten years older than him to several younger. And the youngest child, the only boy, the heir... cute little thing with blond hair, but quiet. He must have been shy, because he hid all the time in his rooms. Zechs couldn't have spoken to him more than once or twice the entire visit, which lasted for several weeks.
Zechs frowned as a hint of a memory, something he'd heard about the heir to the Winner estates drifted at the back of his mind, just out of reach. What had he heard?
"I remember hearing something about the boy..."
"He's a mage. Treize caught him and imprisoned him almost a year ago."
Zechs' eyebrows shot up at that, too. So he'd been right to run after he turned the throne over to Relena. He'd half-thought that his position would keep him safe, but Quatre had been very close to the throne - if Treize was willing to imprison a member of the high Oz nobility, he wouldn't hesitate to lock up the deposed ruler of another land, if he could get his hands on him. "You gave him sanctuary," he stated. It wasn't a question. He couldn't think of anything else she would have done. "I'd heard that you'd publicly come out against Treize's policy. I'm assuming little Quatre was the reason?"
"Not so little anymore, brother," she responded. "He's my age."
"I'm not your brother," he reminded her, and she sighed.
"Of course. In any case, he and several companions marched up to the gate and demanded sanctuary on restday, while I was holding judgment. There were a few dozen Oz soldiers on their heels, apparently."
"A few dozen? Treize doesn't like them."
"Not at all. Apparently they broke themselves out of the prison, and freed everyone else as well. When he appeared in front of me, he practically forced me to provide sanctuary for him, although I would have done it anyway. And the opportunity was too good to pass up."
"I can imagine. I wish I could have seen Alex's face when you did that," Zechs smiled appreciatively. "But none of this explains why you thought I'd be interested."
"Quatre... there's something very different about him and the ones he's traveling with. He hinted when he first arrived that if I hadn't sided with them, they would have fought their way out. Using magic. And... there are other strange things about them... I just thought that you might be interested in them. I know that no normal mage can do the things he hinted at."
"What sort of things?" he asked suspiciously.
"I don't know," she said with a helpless shrug. "But each one of them... all five of them... has a crystal with a spell set in it to make them look completely human. From what you've shown me and I've seen, those are incredibly expensive and difficult to set - I can't imagine where they got them."
Zechs frowned slightly, finally admitting to himself that his sister had finally brought something important to his attention. If there are more out there with more than normal mage-power, it means that the shield is failing, and the Chosen will appear soon. They damn well better hurry. Thinking about the Chosen led him to another thought - one absolutely unbearable and entirely probable. "How... how many of them are there? The boys, I mean." Please, let me be wrong about this...
"Five, including Quatre," she replied.
Damn it! It looked like he might be right. "I need to see them," he said coldly, ignoring the startled look on his sister's face. "I need to see them now."
"Um, they're all around the palace. I... Heero is exercising, and I... I think Quatre is in the gardens... I don't know where Wufei or Duo or Trowa are right now. I can find out if..."
"No, that's all right. I will return soon," he said, and walked out of the room before she could stop him. The garden is closer than the exercise room, he thought, heading there. He had to find out if these were the ones he'd been waiting his entire life for.
He stopped on the balcony that overlooked the garden and cautiously glanced down, careful to keep himself out of view of the people in the garden. Two of them - a boy with reddish hair that fell over half of his face, and a smaller boy with golden hair. He frowned slightly - there was only supposed to be one of them here, but there they sat, the taller one with his back against a tree, the blond leaning back against his chest. It was obvious that they were something more than friends. It didn't really matter. He could feel them, powerful both of them, but he'd felt strange stirrings before without it being the Chosen. No, he had to test them.
The blond would be Quatre. He was assuming that the second was also one of the five, but he couldn't be sure. No, it would be safer to test the blond. He concentrated, drawing in energy until it crackled in the air around him and danced at the edges of his fingertips. The blond suddenly stiffened, and his friend looked around. Zechs stepped forward and, holding out his hand, cast lightening down at Quatre. It arched towards him at incredible speeds - he saw Quatre turn his head, saw fear in his eyes...
Then the lightening impacted, not on one, but on two glowing shields of light, made entirely from magical energy. One was golden, sparkling all over with extra energy, and the other was a muted green, slightly inside the first, but no less powerful. Zechs' eyes widened and he involuntarily backed up a step. He'd been waiting for them all his life, but he'd never really realized how powerful they'd be! He'd never met anyone who was nearly as strong a mage as he was, and these... these children... the power rolled off them in waves and he got the impression that the shields both of them had raised had been entirely instinctive and mostly effortless.
Suddenly Quatre's head snapped around as the shields disappeared, and he was staring directly at Zechs, and within that innocent-angel face, two eyes stared at him, dark and threatening. He was already on his feet, and behind him, the taller boy held out his arms and... he changed form. A hawk suddenly flew through the air at him, silently, but there was nothing reserved about the way it dove at his face, aiming for his eyes. He ducked, very glad for once of the stupid mask, and the hawk swooped over his head, then landed on the ground at the edge of the balcony, then became the taller boy again. Emotionless eyes stared at Zechs, but he had the feeling that the boy was anything but emotionless right now.
He heard a footstep behind him, and saw two boys standing there, one a foreigner with black hair and slanted eyes, the other a boy with cold blue eyes and messy brown hair. The foreigner held a sword, looking like he was very, very familiar with the weapon, and the brown-haired boy held a strange triangular-shaped blade in each hand. Zechs froze as he recognized where he'd seen blades like that before - they were an assassin's tool, good either to be thrown or used in hand-to-hand combat. An assassin? A child assassin is one of the Chosen? his panicked mind asked.
"I say we kill him," said a voice above his head, and he looked up to see another boy with a three-foot long braid standing on the roof above the balcony. There was a small blade in his hand, but somehow that didn't reassure Zechs very much. Unless the person was very skilled, it would take a lot of work to kill someone with a blade that size. If he was skilled, it would take even longer.
There was a tingle along the back of his neck, and he turned back as Quatre rose through the air, glowing brightly, and landed on the banister at the edge of the balcony. He was the only one with no visible weapons - even his friend had a small knife in a sheath at his belt, but that didn't make him any less dangerous - maybe even moreso.
I may have made a mistake testing him, Zechs thought as Quatre raised a glowing hand.
Then, faced with five boys, each of whom could probably strip every inch of skin off his body and still leave him alive to talk about it, and aware of the fact that he had launched an unprovoked attack against one of them, he did the only thing he could think of - he bowed to Quatre.
He saw the blond boy's mouth open slightly, then he pressed his lips together in a thin line and gestured with his hand. Zechs wasn't particularly reassured when his helmet/mask disappeared without an indication of where or how it had gone. Now Quatre's mouth really did drop open. "Milliardo?" he exclaimed.
"You know this jerk?" asked the one with the long hair, leaping down from the roof with the grace and ease of a cat.
"He is... was... Milliardo Peacecraft, Queen Relena's brother. He's a mage."
Zechs felt a breeze on his face that pushed his long platinum blond hair out of the way, revealing his pointed ears.
"We knew that when he used magic to attack Quatre," the long-haired boy pointed out. He turned to Zechs, still smiling evilly. "So, why'd you do it?"
"I had to make sure it was you," Zechs said, burning in shame at the fear he was feeling, and also angry that he'd waited his whole life for the Chosen, and now they were here, and they were a bunch of children!
"What?" The braided boy asked.
"You are the Chosen ones, who will defend our world from the evil which is coming," he grated out, regretting every word. Children! Might as well slit their throats now and save himself the effort of teaching them! But he couldn't do that - his one purpose in life had been explained to him when he was forced to give up the throne, and that purpose was to try to prepare these adolescents for the battle that was coming, if that was possible. "I have been charged to teach you and show you your path."
"What do you know about what is coming?" Quatre asked, eyeing him intently.
"Quite a bit. What do you know?"
"We know that we are... special. The first Masters in a thousand years," he said softly, putting a special emphasis on the word 'Masters' that Zechs couldn't place. "We're supposed to defend the world against... demons from another world. There has been a shield up around this world for a thousand years, which is why there's been so little magic, but it's coming down, and soon. We're supposed to draw our powers from special sources, but we weren't told what or how."
"How... how do you know that much?" Zechs demanded, and found a blade pressed up against his throat by the still-smiling boy.
"No, no, no, that's not the way it works," he said. "You have to tell us stuff now. Like why the hell you attacked Quatre."
"I told you, I had to make sure it was you. There are more powerful mages in the world now then there used to be - I had to make sure you were the five."
"And if I hadn't been? Then what would have happened?" Quatre asked calmly, although there was anger in his eyes.
Zechs shrugged. "Nothing."
Quatre frowned. "The Milliardo I knew would not have lied."
"I'm not Milliardo. My name is Zechs Marquise. Milliardo Peacecraft is dead, as everyone knows."
"Zechs Marquise?" the braided boy asked. "I've heard of you. They call you the Lightening Count. I thought it was a figure of speech."
"Quatre Winner would have taken you at your word," Quatre said when his companion fell silent. "Unfortunately, he is also dead, and only Quatre remains, and he will do what is necessary to remain free. Now, answer the question truthfully - what would have happened if I hadn't been who and what I am?"
"You would have been hit. The strike was not at full power - you probably would have survived."
"Have you done this before?"
"Once or twice. They survived."
"Should I kill him?" asked the tall one, raising a hand negligently. Lightning ran around it in an endless loop and energy crackled in the air around that hand.
"No, we need him alive," said the blue-eyed one in a dead voice. "At least for now."
----------------------------------------------
Zechs led them to his quarters, where he put on another mask, replacing the one that Quatre had destroyed. Then, polite even in the face of Duo's not-so-subtle questions about beheadings and torture, he asked them to sit while he rummaged around in his closet, presumably for the scrolls that Relena had said he'd removed from the library. Trowa wasn't sure how he felt about the former king, because he was certainly feeling something.
Intellectually he could understand why Zechs had attacked Quatre - it had proven, instantly and conclusively, that they were the people he was looking for. He could understand that sort of ruthlessness, even respect it.
But this was Quatre that they were talking about, Quatre he'd attacked to prove his theory. Trowa felt his hands clenching into fists at the very memory, and strove for control.
Quatre, sensing what he was feeling, touched his hand gently and smiled at him, but Trowa wasn't comforted. He wasn't used to... to feeling this much. It was exhausting, and wearing away at his self-discipline.
:What do you guys think?: Quatre asked uneasily.
:It is dishonorable to attack an enemy without warning,: Wufei muttered.
:Geeze, that was helpful Wufei. Why not tell us something we don't know. We know he shouldn't have done it! But what are we going to do now? He's got power, but we can take him, easy,: Duo put in.
:He's very much like me,: Quatre said, not sounding happy with the idea.
:What?!: Duo exclaimed as Trowa turned to look at his love in horror. :Where'd you come up with a stupid idea like that?!:
:Look at it, Duo,: Quatre said gently, avoiding Trowa's gaze. :We were both the sons of rich, powerful men - we both lost everything because of what we are - we've both rejected our honor...:
So that what was getting to him. Trowa reached out towards Quatre, who drew back from him and cried into his mind alone, :Don't touch me! I'm... I have nothing left, not even my honor! I don't deserve someone like you!:
:Quatre, what do you think I am?: Trowa asked, shocked by the outburst from the normally calm, collected, and positive boy. :I never had any honor. I never have. I've killed many people, most of them for nothing more than money. If anything, I don't deserve you. You're an angel.:
:No, I'm not,: Quatre corrected him. :I... I can't help it, but I hate Treize. Not for me, but what he did to everyone else. I'd kill him if I could. And... and when Milliardo... Zechs attacked us, I would have killed him too, if you hadn't been there, I would have! I was pulling my power together to strike him...:
Trowa stared at Quatre in astonishment. It had to be impossible for anyone to be that innocent, that forgiving, didn't it? Quatre couldn't possibly be blaming himself that he was mad at Treize, who'd tortured him, or Zechs, who had tried to kill him. It was absolutely absurd. But yet, there it was - that was definitely what he was feeling. It was then that Trowa did something he hadn't done for as long as he could remember.
He laughed.
It started out as a low chuckle, but soon he was laughing very loudly, tears running down his cheeks as the others stared at him in horror.
It took him several minutes to get control of himself. When he finally did, Quatre was staring at him with wide, scared eyes. "Trowa? Are you all right?" he asked in a whisper.
"I'm fine," Trowa told him. "You... you're amazing."
"He's exactly the way he has to be," Zechs said in a grumpy voice.
They all stared at him. "What?" Duo asked sharply.
"If you don't want me to hear your conversations, you shouldn't shout," Zechs said, setting several books down on his bed. "I heard you," he tapped his helmet. "And I said that he is that... that forgiving because he has to be."
"What do you mean?" Trowa asked sharply, his arms tightening protectively around Quatre.
"Whoever it was that told you everything left out a few critical details," Zechs said, a smug smile on his face. "It's obvious he's the Desert Prince. He gets his power from people. He can't get mad... well, he can't stay mad at other humans - if he did, he'd probably lose his power. Safeguards against that sort of thing are built into your personalities so that you won't lose your powers - that would be a disaster. He's psychologically incapable of those sorts of emotions." Zechs looked vaguely disgusted.
"What?!" Quatre asked, an expression of outrage on his face. "That's impossible!"
"Why? The rest of us are the same," Zechs said, looking even more disgusted. "We've all been planned very carefully so that we could use our powers to the biggest advantage. These things have been coming for a thousand years now."
"What do you mean, planned?" Duo asked. "I'm an orphan." He glanced around. "Half of these guys are."
"So? We're talking about fate here, not family lines," Zechs growled. "I'll prove it. Have any of you ever used your powers for your own personal benefit, previous to your escape from Treize?"
Trowa looked at Quatre, who swallowed, and then glanced around the circle. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the answer would be. "I didn't," Quatre said unnecessarily. "Not even when I was captured."
"I didn't, but just because Treize was watching me," Duo said defensively. "And..." he hung his head. "I've never used them for myself. The only person I ever used my power on consciously was Solo, and look what happened then."
"Using my power would have been too obvious," Heero stated bluntly.
"I'm sure that you all have perfectly good reasons for not using your powers for personal gain, when the fact is that any of you had enough power to steal, or even earn enough money to settle down in another country where our kind aren't hunted like animals, and be wealthy enough to live like kings. For that matter, you could probably create the wealth. But you didn't, for much the same reason that I did not leave the Sank kingdom when I was forced off the throne. We all have jobs to do - me to instruct you, and you to fight."
Trowa could feel the growing anger in those around him, not at Zechs but at whoever or whatever it was that had forced them to the Sank kingdom and presumably to this meeting had been playing with them long before they escaped. The thought angered him as well, not for himself, but for Quatre, but he pushed those emotions aside. "You said you're supposed to instruct us," he observed, not because he thought anyone had missed it, but because he wanted them to calm down. "What are you supposed to teach us?"
Zechs turned his mask towards him. "Some things about your power that you might not know - some more about combining your power. Most of this you could probably figure out on your own, but more importantly I know about your enemy, and about the last Chosen, the ones who lived a thousand years ago and gave their lives to put up the shield around our world."
"Gave their lives?" Duo repeated. "I thought they just cast a spell."
Zechs looked at him, and even the mask couldn't hide the disgust on his face. "You think a simple casting could make a spell like that? They sealed the spell with their own blood, that was the only way it would last long enough for you to be born! Have you ever seen one of these?" he asked, reaching into another drawer and withdrawing a black stone.
He tossed it to Quatre, who caught it, then cried out in pain and tossed it back in the air. It landed on the bad, and Quatre stared down at his own hands, which were burned and red. They glowed briefly, then returned to normal as he healed himself. "What is that?!" he demanded. "It's evil!"
Zechs stared at him, pulled on a pair of gloves, and then picked up the stone. "That's the strongest reaction I've ever seen," he muttered. "It actually burned you?"
"Yes! It hurts! I mean, it hurt me, but there's something inside that hurts, too..."
Zechs nodded. "This is an example of the blood magic that the demons used against your predecessors. One of my duties was to find and destroy as many of these as I could, but I had to keep one to show you."
Trowa stared at the stone as he spoke, noticing now that it was actually a crystal, but instead of the normal pink/white color, this one was black. As he stared, he blinked, because for an instant he'd seen a black/red glow around it, and the face of an old man staring out at him from within the depths of the crystal with an expression of sadness. He jerked slightly and shook his head, trying to dispel the disturbing image. Where had that come from?
"What is it?" Quatre repeated, staring at the stone with a sort of horrified fascination.
"It is a crystal, made by the demon masters a thousand years ago. They made these from the lives of mages - they'd hunt them down and kill them in spell. As the mages' blood spilled on the stone, their life energy and magical power was trapped in the crystal, which turns black from the blood. Then the demons could use the mages' power as if it was their own. In the old times, your predecessors had the aid of all the mages who were alive and not being controlled by the demons, because if the demons got this world, they would all be killed that way. You will not have any help, because it would take a thousand of today's mages to equal the power of one of the normal old mages, not to mention the powerful ones. But that also means that the demons will not have any extra mage energy on their side, so it comes out even again. The real fight will be between yourselves and the demon-controlled humans. They don't even have to be mages, although most of them were last time." He rolled the stone from one gloved hand to another, then casually tossed it onto the bed. "Now that you've seen it and you know what dark blood magic looks like, I can destroy this one as well. I'll destroy it after I finish training you. It takes quite a bit of energy on my part, and I'll be flat on my back for a few weeks afterwards."
"Gently," Trowa said quietly, finally figuring out what he'd seen in the stone. "There's a man's soul in there."
"What?!" Zechs actually sounded surprised as he froze in the action of picking up the stone again.
The others stared at him, and Trowa looked at the ground, not liking having all this attention focused on him. "I saw an old man staring out of the center of the crystal," he said. "He's trapped in there, and has been for a thousand years."
Zechs picked up the stone, holding it more carefully than he had before. "What else do you see?" he asked, walking over and holding the stone out for Trowa to touch. Trowa felt Quatre pulling in slightly, trying to get as far away from the stone as he could. Trowa nerved himself and then reached out a hand to touch the stone.
To his surprise, it didn't hurt him at all. He was instantly confronted with the desire to wash his hand in the cleanest, most pure stream he could find, just to get the reek of the filth of the stone off of him, but it didn't hurt him. Trying not to grimace in disgust, he ran his fingertips lightly over the surface, and once again saw the old man looking out at him, this time his expression vaguely hopeful. "He wants to be free. He died a thousand years ago, he wants to move on already," Trowa said. "He has family waiting for him there." He finally shuddered and withdrew his hand, wiping it several times on the thick rug on the floor, trying to get rid of the contamination. He felt Quatre's comforting presence in the back of his mind.
"He died in agony," Quatre said softly, tears shining in his eyes. "They tortured him to death to get his power." He bit his lip. "That's all I can see. His life is in there, as well - his memories - but I can't see past the pain." He closed his eyes and turned his head away from the stone.
"And you?" Zechs asked, looking at the others. Heero held out his hand, and Zechs handed him the stone.
Heero's reaction was almost as bad as Quatre's. The stone seemed to leap out of his hand, and Zechs barely managed to catch it. Heero stared at his burned hands until they started glowing bright white light, and when that light faded, his hands were fine. "Energy," he grunted. "A life."
Zechs held the stone out to Wufei, who refused to touch it. "I see..." he broke off and shuddered. "I should not touch it. It might take over my mind." He declined to explain his words, but Trowa noticed that he was avoiding looking at the stone directly.
"Guess it's my turn," Duo said, and took the stone from Zechs. His violet eyes immediately went vague, and his mouth dropped open slightly. After a few seconds he blinked and swallowed. "Power..." he said softly. "I sense so much power... the mages were more powerful than we ever imagined. But it's tainted." He frowned. "The guy's soul has been tied here far too long," he said with a determined look in his eyes. Trowa felt Duo do something that made his energy increase exponentially, and then that energy was directed into the stone. The stone started to glow black, and then it started to shake in his hands, but the stone refused to let go of it's victim.
Trowa continued to stare at the man in the stone, unable to tear his mind away from the man who now stood up, fighting the circumstances of his death with all his might. He was... what? He was trying to say something...
"Blood!" Quatre suddenly shouted. "It's not just his blood that's there! The demons tied the stone to themselves with a drop of their own blood!"
Duo suddenly grinned in that bone-chilling way. "Blood, huh?" he asked, and then pulled out one of his knives, and quickly pricked his own index finger with the point. A few drops of red blood welled up and then dropped onto the stone, where they were instantly absorbed by the crystal. Duo's grin broadened slightly, and Trowa felt the slightest surge of energy from the violet-eyed boy, and the crystal dissolved in his hands, turning into dust and falling to the ground. For a second there was a little pile of dust there, then that, too, dissolved away to nothing.
There was an explosion of power from somewhere incredibly distant, but also right there in the room. There was a flash of light in front of Duo, with resolved itself into the glowing figure of the old man Trowa had seen in the crystal, mostly transparent, like a ghost.
The ghost reached out a hand towards Duo's head. :Thank you, my son,: he whispered, and then the light disappeared.
They all stared in shock, first at Duo, then at the spot where the ghost had been standing.
Duo recovered first, and decided to break up the tension in his usual tasteless fashion. He turned to Zechs, a superior smile on his face, and asked, "Have you ever seen that before, Mr. Smartypants?"
--------------------------------------------
"Where did you learn blood magic?" Zechs demanded in a hoarse voice when he recovered.
"The faeries," Duo said with a shrug. "Are you going to teach us or not?" Duo was trying to cover up the fact that he was very, very frightened by what had just happened. He'd just touched that man's soul - just for a fraction of a second, but that didn't change the fact that he'd done it. He knew that he'd done good with his power, possibly for the first time in his life, but at such a price! He felt so dirty... Is this the way his power worked? Either he killed, or he felt so disgusted with himself that he wished he could turn his power on himself?
Zechs shook his head slightly, gathering his composure, and Duo noticed how the older man unconsciously drew back away from him. He senses it too. He knows what I am, he observed dryly.
"I can tell you who you are, for starters, and I believe I know why you had the reactions you just had," Zechs said, still looking at all of them as if they'd just grown a second head. At least, that's what Duo was assuming that look was for - it was kinda tough to tell with the stupid helmet.
"So spill it," Duo said in his coldest voice, and saw the others turn to stare at him.
"You get your power from Death," Zechs said, and Duo snorted.
"Tell me something I don't know."
"In the prophecies, you're usually referred to as the Laughing Killer. Because of your power you should have an affinity and better understanding for the next world than most people, which was probably why you were able to free the man so easily, and how he could manifest himself in your presence." There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice, as if he were just guessing, and hoping that he guessed right. Duo hadn't missed the slight bitterness in his voice when he talked about how easily Duo had freed the man, when earlier Zechs had mentioned that it took him weeks to recover from doing the same thing. "Your power comes from Death in general, not violent or premature death, which is unique. There are others who can get power from death - that stone was a prime example of that type of magic - but you don't need to do that. An old man dying in his sleep will provide as much energy for you as any type."
But what if I don't want power from anyone, even some old guy who's had a good long life? Duo protested mentally, but kept his objections to himself. He'd seen enough of this Zechs/Milliardo person to realize that this guy wasn't in control of his situation any more than they were, and was considerably more bitter because of it. It wasn't his fault that Duo was what he was.
Zechs turned to Heero. "Your power comes from Life. You're usually called the Solemn Soldier in the prophecies - I wonder where that one came from," he said facetiously, but Heero didn't show any signs of being amused. Not that he ever did. "You get energy from living things - again, no spells required, their lives just fuel your energy by their existence. Your power is essentially incompatible with the blood-magic that they used to make the stone, which is probably why it burned you. You could feel the life energy trapped in there, but you couldn't touch it. Am I right?" Heero glared at him, but nodded slightly.
Duo felt a knot of unreasoning resentment at this announcement. How come I get stuck with Death while an assassin gets life? he wondered, and for a second the resentment was aimed directly at Heero. That emotion lasted only a second, though. It wasn't Heero's fault that his power was life any more than it was Duo's fault his power was Death. Unless I did something to deserve this. But that was impossible... wasn't it? In any case, there was no reason for him to hate Heero about this. He hadn't quite figured out whose fault it was, and when he did, he intended to hunt them down and carve out their heart with a spoon, but for now, there was nothing he could do about it, so he let the thought slide out of his mind. Not thinking was always easier than the alternative.
"Your power comes from Magic itself," Zechs said to Wufei, who looked unimpressed. "And in the prophecies you're called the Foreign Dragon, because most of the prophecies were written by people from our own land. In others, you're simply called the Dragon." Wufei grunted softly. "Your power comes from the presence of magic in the world. I would imagine that your power will suddenly increase greatly when the barrier comes down." Wufei nodded slightly, a calculating look in his eyes. "And you refused to touch the stone. Why?"
Wufei glared at him, doing a fair imitation of Heero's 'I'm going to kill you' look, but answered. "My symbol was on it, carved on it in power."
"Your what?" Duo asked without thinking.
"My symbol. My clan sign, along with my personal one. It had no business being on that... that twisted thing." Now Wufei was glaring at him.
"Oh." Duo thought how he would feel if his secret name had been on that thing, and shivered. "Sorry. So... you think it was a trap, or something?"
Wufei evidently was surprised at the apology, and thought for a few seconds before he answered. "The stone is ancient. I do not know how they knew what my symbol would be so many years ago, and I distrust that. The magic itself was tainted, evil, and I mistrust that even more. It is possible that I could have somehow filtered the magic so it was useable again, but it is also possible that touching that with my own power could have somehow contaminated me. It could have been a trap that way, or it could simply be a warning, telling me how powerful they were, that they knew such things. But I would not touch it unless I knew."
It was the longest single statement Duo had ever heard from him, excepting his rants on 'onna's' (he'd finally figured out that word meant women) and justice in general. He had a lot to say on those two topics, and almost nothing to say about anything else, besides occasionally calling Duo a baka. (He'd been very insulted when he finally got Quatre to tell him that it meant something like 'idiot'.) So this was very impressive, in Duo's eyes.
"That's a good idea. If you don't know what something is, trust your instincts. They'll keep you alive more often then not. Your power," he said, turning to Trowa, "Comes from nature, as you've probably guessed already. I'm not sure why, but the prophecies call you the Masked Clown."
Duo burst out laughing at that. "How do you like that?" he exclaimed. "How do you think they knew that long ago that you'd be a circus clown? Hey, do you... OW!" he shouted at Heero grabbed the end of his braid and pulled hard.
"Do you think they knew you'd be such a baka?" Heero muttered, but there was a strange light in his eyes. For once they didn't look entirely dead. It was the first time he'd called Duo 'baka', either.
Duo grinned. This was too much fun. "I'm not a baka!" he exclaimed. "And I'd thank you if you... OW!" he shouted as Heero tugged again. All right, this will be less fun if he scalps me. Note to self: don't try this when he's got a hold of my braid. Duo grabbed his own braid above where Heero was holding it in an attempt to protect his head. "Come on, Heero... OW!" Well, that hadn't worked. Duo finally fell silent. He could try again later, when Heero wasn't within arm's reach.
Zechs turned back to Trowa, who was watching him with the same calm-eyed gaze that he turned on everything. Boy, had it been creepy when he suddenly started laughing before...
"Your power comes from the Earth itself. That's about all I can tell you. Apparently the last Earth-Chosen was quite close-mouthed about himself. I'd stay away from the wastelands, though, if I were you. That is the most unnatural place I've ever seen."
Trowa nodded, but Duo couldn't resist asking, "You've been to the wastelands?"
"I visited it, briefly." Zechs' tone discouraged questioning, but not as much as Heero's slight warning tug on Duo's braid.
Finally Zechs turned to Quatre, who swallowed but raised his chin as he faced Zechs. "Your power comes from people, as I mentioned before. The prophecies call you the Desert Prince." A flash of pain crossed over Quatre's face before he got control of himself. "You get your power from the people in general, and the mages, such as they are, in specific. I'm assuming you're something of a leader, because you may have to lead the mages that you people freed against the enemy. Because of the nature of your power, if you ever really hated a person, it would cut you off from your power."
"Why is it that way?" Quatre asked. "Duo never killed anyone until his power emerged, but he didn't lose it, and Heero has killed, but he hasn't lost his power. Why am I... why can't I..." he trailed off helplessly, an irritated expression on his face.
"Because your power is strongly tied into love. It's the only power that really has emotions tied to it. The rest can exist independent of emotions, because they have little to do with humans themselves, just with their existence. Because just being there isn't what makes a human - it's the soul. And souls are linked by love, not by hate." Zechs made a noise in the back of his throat, and Duo would have sworn that he was raising an eyebrow. "That is a direct quote from one of the journals of your predecessor, by the way. Apparently he had similar questions to you."
"Journals?" Quatre asked, looking interested. "Could I read one? I'd love to see how our... um, predecessors thought."
"I can do better than that. Now that I've told you this, I can discharge with the main part of my duty," Zechs said, rising.
"You mean that was it? That's all you're going to tell us?"
"That is all I am allowed to tell you right now. However, there are more things that you have to know before I can start teaching you how to fully use your powers. Come on."
Duo's curiosity was roused to the point that he didn't make any smart comments as they rose to follow Zechs. That and the fact that despite them getting up to move, Heero hadn't let go of his braid. "Hey, Heero, think you could let go yet?" Duo asked as he stumbled slightly, trying to keep his head close enough to Heero so he wouldn't get his head yanked.
"No," Heero said succinctly, but Duo stared at him. Was it just him, or was Heero actually smiling slightly? Nah, it had to be his imagination, he decided as he walked right next to Heero, hands on his own head, holding it protectively. There was no way he'd seen even a hint of a smile on Heero's face. Was there?
"Adams, your majesty," the man said, placing the document on the table.
"Thank you, Adams. That will be all, now." Treize carefully made note of the boy's name. He'd ask Adams' superiors what they thought of the boy, and if it checked out with what he'd observed, then he'd recommend him for a promotion. Unexpected moves like that were a good idea - it kept his underlings on their toes, and his men loved him for it.
He dismissed the matter from his mind for later consideration and went back to the report. Lady Une was nothing if not thorough. Somehow she'd managed to get an entire transcript of the dialogue between Quatre, Queen Relena, and his own ambassador. If he wasn't so angry with his ambassador's performance, he would have thought the entire situation laughable. It would have been quite entertaining to watch a fifteen-year-old boy make a fool of the pompous ambassador in front of the entire court. Treize recalled that he'd sent the odious man there simply to get him out of the way in the first place.
But losing a verbal sparring match to a child, even one as talented as Quatre was at court games, was unacceptable. It had been an audacious move on Quatre's part to appear before the Queen as mages, and then to use Treize's own propaganda against him, but an ambassador as experienced as Alex should have known how to turn the situation around. It didn't really matter. Lady Une said she had 'disciplined' him, and had asked for a replacement to be sent out immediately. Incompetence on that level was not permissible.
At least now he knew where they were, even if they were temporarily out of reach. Lady Une had already stationed men around every possible exit of the castle with crystals that detected magic, so there wouldn't be any danger of the boys sneaking out under an illusion. They had to come out sometime, and there were dozens of ununiformed Oz agents waiting for them. The Lady was still trying to figure out how they'd gotten into the city and where they'd been for the past month and a half.
That was all well and good - so why was he so unhappy with the report? Soon they would be back in his hands and things would be back under control. Why did the situation fill him with a sense of foreboding?
Maybe it was that damned Queen who'd protected them, and used them to insult him in the process. A bit naïve, but a popular ruler, who'd taken over the country when her brother was deposed because he was a mage. Even the king of another country hadn't been out of his reach, he thought smugly. Milliardo Peacecraft had reluctantly surrendered his throne when Treize declared that he would have no dealings with a faery. The small Sank kingdom couldn't survive without interaction with the much larger Oz kingdom, and their king knew that. Rather than watch his country slowly suffocate under Treize's influence, he gave up the throne and disappeared before any of Treize's (disguised) Hunters could pick him up.
Apparently the young queen was still holding a grudge over the incident. A bad policy in politics, especially given the size of his standing army outnumbered her entire population 2:1, but possibly useful for him. So what was it...
He thought about it for a while longer, but was unable to come up with a reason for his unease. Finally he was forced to abandon the search - he had official state business to attend to. The search continued, but he did have a country to keep running.
-------------------------------------------
"Relena its good to see you again," Zechs Marquise said with a formal bow. "You said that you had something of interest to me here?" He was very proud of the way that he allowed none of the impatience he felt to show in his voice. He loved his sister dearly, and she was a wise ruler, but she didn't understand him at all.
Former sister, he tried to remind himself, already knowing the effort was doomed. Strange how easily he left all aspects of his former life behind, save this one - he couldn't stop thinking of the Queen as his sister, although he'd forsaken all ties to protect her.
"Yes. You know those documents and old scrolls that you removed from the library?"
"Yes."
"In the last few weeks, two separate groups have shown definite interest in those very scrolls."
Zechs raised his eyebrows before he remembered that Relena wouldn't be able to see the expression under the damned mask that he always wore now to disguise his identity. It was a pretty fiction - half of the court knew who he was anyway, but it kept the Oz ambassador from noticing him. It seemed like this time she really did have something of interest to tell him. "Who?"
"The first was Lady Une of Oz. It's a good thing you removed those scrolls - I ran out of excuses to keep her out of the library after the first three weeks.," Relena frowned slightly at what she obviously saw as a failure on her part. "She's mostly given up now, but last week, an old friend of ours arrived."
Zechs couldn't imagine who she was talking about. They'd had a fine enough childhood, he supposed, considering both of their parents were killed when they were quite young and they'd been raised by tutors, but they'd had virtually no friends. The guards were afraid of assassination attempts by anyone, so the only time they saw other kids their own age was when visiting nobles and dignitaries brought their children along. He could probably count those occurrences on one hand.
Relena was getting awfully good at reading his expressions based on what she could see of his face - basically his mouth. "Quatre Winner."
"Oh." That explained it. He'd been... what? Eight or nine when the Winner family came to visit, with every one of their uncountable daughters, ranging from ten years older than him to several younger. And the youngest child, the only boy, the heir... cute little thing with blond hair, but quiet. He must have been shy, because he hid all the time in his rooms. Zechs couldn't have spoken to him more than once or twice the entire visit, which lasted for several weeks.
Zechs frowned as a hint of a memory, something he'd heard about the heir to the Winner estates drifted at the back of his mind, just out of reach. What had he heard?
"I remember hearing something about the boy..."
"He's a mage. Treize caught him and imprisoned him almost a year ago."
Zechs' eyebrows shot up at that, too. So he'd been right to run after he turned the throne over to Relena. He'd half-thought that his position would keep him safe, but Quatre had been very close to the throne - if Treize was willing to imprison a member of the high Oz nobility, he wouldn't hesitate to lock up the deposed ruler of another land, if he could get his hands on him. "You gave him sanctuary," he stated. It wasn't a question. He couldn't think of anything else she would have done. "I'd heard that you'd publicly come out against Treize's policy. I'm assuming little Quatre was the reason?"
"Not so little anymore, brother," she responded. "He's my age."
"I'm not your brother," he reminded her, and she sighed.
"Of course. In any case, he and several companions marched up to the gate and demanded sanctuary on restday, while I was holding judgment. There were a few dozen Oz soldiers on their heels, apparently."
"A few dozen? Treize doesn't like them."
"Not at all. Apparently they broke themselves out of the prison, and freed everyone else as well. When he appeared in front of me, he practically forced me to provide sanctuary for him, although I would have done it anyway. And the opportunity was too good to pass up."
"I can imagine. I wish I could have seen Alex's face when you did that," Zechs smiled appreciatively. "But none of this explains why you thought I'd be interested."
"Quatre... there's something very different about him and the ones he's traveling with. He hinted when he first arrived that if I hadn't sided with them, they would have fought their way out. Using magic. And... there are other strange things about them... I just thought that you might be interested in them. I know that no normal mage can do the things he hinted at."
"What sort of things?" he asked suspiciously.
"I don't know," she said with a helpless shrug. "But each one of them... all five of them... has a crystal with a spell set in it to make them look completely human. From what you've shown me and I've seen, those are incredibly expensive and difficult to set - I can't imagine where they got them."
Zechs frowned slightly, finally admitting to himself that his sister had finally brought something important to his attention. If there are more out there with more than normal mage-power, it means that the shield is failing, and the Chosen will appear soon. They damn well better hurry. Thinking about the Chosen led him to another thought - one absolutely unbearable and entirely probable. "How... how many of them are there? The boys, I mean." Please, let me be wrong about this...
"Five, including Quatre," she replied.
Damn it! It looked like he might be right. "I need to see them," he said coldly, ignoring the startled look on his sister's face. "I need to see them now."
"Um, they're all around the palace. I... Heero is exercising, and I... I think Quatre is in the gardens... I don't know where Wufei or Duo or Trowa are right now. I can find out if..."
"No, that's all right. I will return soon," he said, and walked out of the room before she could stop him. The garden is closer than the exercise room, he thought, heading there. He had to find out if these were the ones he'd been waiting his entire life for.
He stopped on the balcony that overlooked the garden and cautiously glanced down, careful to keep himself out of view of the people in the garden. Two of them - a boy with reddish hair that fell over half of his face, and a smaller boy with golden hair. He frowned slightly - there was only supposed to be one of them here, but there they sat, the taller one with his back against a tree, the blond leaning back against his chest. It was obvious that they were something more than friends. It didn't really matter. He could feel them, powerful both of them, but he'd felt strange stirrings before without it being the Chosen. No, he had to test them.
The blond would be Quatre. He was assuming that the second was also one of the five, but he couldn't be sure. No, it would be safer to test the blond. He concentrated, drawing in energy until it crackled in the air around him and danced at the edges of his fingertips. The blond suddenly stiffened, and his friend looked around. Zechs stepped forward and, holding out his hand, cast lightening down at Quatre. It arched towards him at incredible speeds - he saw Quatre turn his head, saw fear in his eyes...
Then the lightening impacted, not on one, but on two glowing shields of light, made entirely from magical energy. One was golden, sparkling all over with extra energy, and the other was a muted green, slightly inside the first, but no less powerful. Zechs' eyes widened and he involuntarily backed up a step. He'd been waiting for them all his life, but he'd never really realized how powerful they'd be! He'd never met anyone who was nearly as strong a mage as he was, and these... these children... the power rolled off them in waves and he got the impression that the shields both of them had raised had been entirely instinctive and mostly effortless.
Suddenly Quatre's head snapped around as the shields disappeared, and he was staring directly at Zechs, and within that innocent-angel face, two eyes stared at him, dark and threatening. He was already on his feet, and behind him, the taller boy held out his arms and... he changed form. A hawk suddenly flew through the air at him, silently, but there was nothing reserved about the way it dove at his face, aiming for his eyes. He ducked, very glad for once of the stupid mask, and the hawk swooped over his head, then landed on the ground at the edge of the balcony, then became the taller boy again. Emotionless eyes stared at Zechs, but he had the feeling that the boy was anything but emotionless right now.
He heard a footstep behind him, and saw two boys standing there, one a foreigner with black hair and slanted eyes, the other a boy with cold blue eyes and messy brown hair. The foreigner held a sword, looking like he was very, very familiar with the weapon, and the brown-haired boy held a strange triangular-shaped blade in each hand. Zechs froze as he recognized where he'd seen blades like that before - they were an assassin's tool, good either to be thrown or used in hand-to-hand combat. An assassin? A child assassin is one of the Chosen? his panicked mind asked.
"I say we kill him," said a voice above his head, and he looked up to see another boy with a three-foot long braid standing on the roof above the balcony. There was a small blade in his hand, but somehow that didn't reassure Zechs very much. Unless the person was very skilled, it would take a lot of work to kill someone with a blade that size. If he was skilled, it would take even longer.
There was a tingle along the back of his neck, and he turned back as Quatre rose through the air, glowing brightly, and landed on the banister at the edge of the balcony. He was the only one with no visible weapons - even his friend had a small knife in a sheath at his belt, but that didn't make him any less dangerous - maybe even moreso.
I may have made a mistake testing him, Zechs thought as Quatre raised a glowing hand.
Then, faced with five boys, each of whom could probably strip every inch of skin off his body and still leave him alive to talk about it, and aware of the fact that he had launched an unprovoked attack against one of them, he did the only thing he could think of - he bowed to Quatre.
He saw the blond boy's mouth open slightly, then he pressed his lips together in a thin line and gestured with his hand. Zechs wasn't particularly reassured when his helmet/mask disappeared without an indication of where or how it had gone. Now Quatre's mouth really did drop open. "Milliardo?" he exclaimed.
"You know this jerk?" asked the one with the long hair, leaping down from the roof with the grace and ease of a cat.
"He is... was... Milliardo Peacecraft, Queen Relena's brother. He's a mage."
Zechs felt a breeze on his face that pushed his long platinum blond hair out of the way, revealing his pointed ears.
"We knew that when he used magic to attack Quatre," the long-haired boy pointed out. He turned to Zechs, still smiling evilly. "So, why'd you do it?"
"I had to make sure it was you," Zechs said, burning in shame at the fear he was feeling, and also angry that he'd waited his whole life for the Chosen, and now they were here, and they were a bunch of children!
"What?" The braided boy asked.
"You are the Chosen ones, who will defend our world from the evil which is coming," he grated out, regretting every word. Children! Might as well slit their throats now and save himself the effort of teaching them! But he couldn't do that - his one purpose in life had been explained to him when he was forced to give up the throne, and that purpose was to try to prepare these adolescents for the battle that was coming, if that was possible. "I have been charged to teach you and show you your path."
"What do you know about what is coming?" Quatre asked, eyeing him intently.
"Quite a bit. What do you know?"
"We know that we are... special. The first Masters in a thousand years," he said softly, putting a special emphasis on the word 'Masters' that Zechs couldn't place. "We're supposed to defend the world against... demons from another world. There has been a shield up around this world for a thousand years, which is why there's been so little magic, but it's coming down, and soon. We're supposed to draw our powers from special sources, but we weren't told what or how."
"How... how do you know that much?" Zechs demanded, and found a blade pressed up against his throat by the still-smiling boy.
"No, no, no, that's not the way it works," he said. "You have to tell us stuff now. Like why the hell you attacked Quatre."
"I told you, I had to make sure it was you. There are more powerful mages in the world now then there used to be - I had to make sure you were the five."
"And if I hadn't been? Then what would have happened?" Quatre asked calmly, although there was anger in his eyes.
Zechs shrugged. "Nothing."
Quatre frowned. "The Milliardo I knew would not have lied."
"I'm not Milliardo. My name is Zechs Marquise. Milliardo Peacecraft is dead, as everyone knows."
"Zechs Marquise?" the braided boy asked. "I've heard of you. They call you the Lightening Count. I thought it was a figure of speech."
"Quatre Winner would have taken you at your word," Quatre said when his companion fell silent. "Unfortunately, he is also dead, and only Quatre remains, and he will do what is necessary to remain free. Now, answer the question truthfully - what would have happened if I hadn't been who and what I am?"
"You would have been hit. The strike was not at full power - you probably would have survived."
"Have you done this before?"
"Once or twice. They survived."
"Should I kill him?" asked the tall one, raising a hand negligently. Lightning ran around it in an endless loop and energy crackled in the air around that hand.
"No, we need him alive," said the blue-eyed one in a dead voice. "At least for now."
----------------------------------------------
Zechs led them to his quarters, where he put on another mask, replacing the one that Quatre had destroyed. Then, polite even in the face of Duo's not-so-subtle questions about beheadings and torture, he asked them to sit while he rummaged around in his closet, presumably for the scrolls that Relena had said he'd removed from the library. Trowa wasn't sure how he felt about the former king, because he was certainly feeling something.
Intellectually he could understand why Zechs had attacked Quatre - it had proven, instantly and conclusively, that they were the people he was looking for. He could understand that sort of ruthlessness, even respect it.
But this was Quatre that they were talking about, Quatre he'd attacked to prove his theory. Trowa felt his hands clenching into fists at the very memory, and strove for control.
Quatre, sensing what he was feeling, touched his hand gently and smiled at him, but Trowa wasn't comforted. He wasn't used to... to feeling this much. It was exhausting, and wearing away at his self-discipline.
:What do you guys think?: Quatre asked uneasily.
:It is dishonorable to attack an enemy without warning,: Wufei muttered.
:Geeze, that was helpful Wufei. Why not tell us something we don't know. We know he shouldn't have done it! But what are we going to do now? He's got power, but we can take him, easy,: Duo put in.
:He's very much like me,: Quatre said, not sounding happy with the idea.
:What?!: Duo exclaimed as Trowa turned to look at his love in horror. :Where'd you come up with a stupid idea like that?!:
:Look at it, Duo,: Quatre said gently, avoiding Trowa's gaze. :We were both the sons of rich, powerful men - we both lost everything because of what we are - we've both rejected our honor...:
So that what was getting to him. Trowa reached out towards Quatre, who drew back from him and cried into his mind alone, :Don't touch me! I'm... I have nothing left, not even my honor! I don't deserve someone like you!:
:Quatre, what do you think I am?: Trowa asked, shocked by the outburst from the normally calm, collected, and positive boy. :I never had any honor. I never have. I've killed many people, most of them for nothing more than money. If anything, I don't deserve you. You're an angel.:
:No, I'm not,: Quatre corrected him. :I... I can't help it, but I hate Treize. Not for me, but what he did to everyone else. I'd kill him if I could. And... and when Milliardo... Zechs attacked us, I would have killed him too, if you hadn't been there, I would have! I was pulling my power together to strike him...:
Trowa stared at Quatre in astonishment. It had to be impossible for anyone to be that innocent, that forgiving, didn't it? Quatre couldn't possibly be blaming himself that he was mad at Treize, who'd tortured him, or Zechs, who had tried to kill him. It was absolutely absurd. But yet, there it was - that was definitely what he was feeling. It was then that Trowa did something he hadn't done for as long as he could remember.
He laughed.
It started out as a low chuckle, but soon he was laughing very loudly, tears running down his cheeks as the others stared at him in horror.
It took him several minutes to get control of himself. When he finally did, Quatre was staring at him with wide, scared eyes. "Trowa? Are you all right?" he asked in a whisper.
"I'm fine," Trowa told him. "You... you're amazing."
"He's exactly the way he has to be," Zechs said in a grumpy voice.
They all stared at him. "What?" Duo asked sharply.
"If you don't want me to hear your conversations, you shouldn't shout," Zechs said, setting several books down on his bed. "I heard you," he tapped his helmet. "And I said that he is that... that forgiving because he has to be."
"What do you mean?" Trowa asked sharply, his arms tightening protectively around Quatre.
"Whoever it was that told you everything left out a few critical details," Zechs said, a smug smile on his face. "It's obvious he's the Desert Prince. He gets his power from people. He can't get mad... well, he can't stay mad at other humans - if he did, he'd probably lose his power. Safeguards against that sort of thing are built into your personalities so that you won't lose your powers - that would be a disaster. He's psychologically incapable of those sorts of emotions." Zechs looked vaguely disgusted.
"What?!" Quatre asked, an expression of outrage on his face. "That's impossible!"
"Why? The rest of us are the same," Zechs said, looking even more disgusted. "We've all been planned very carefully so that we could use our powers to the biggest advantage. These things have been coming for a thousand years now."
"What do you mean, planned?" Duo asked. "I'm an orphan." He glanced around. "Half of these guys are."
"So? We're talking about fate here, not family lines," Zechs growled. "I'll prove it. Have any of you ever used your powers for your own personal benefit, previous to your escape from Treize?"
Trowa looked at Quatre, who swallowed, and then glanced around the circle. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the answer would be. "I didn't," Quatre said unnecessarily. "Not even when I was captured."
"I didn't, but just because Treize was watching me," Duo said defensively. "And..." he hung his head. "I've never used them for myself. The only person I ever used my power on consciously was Solo, and look what happened then."
"Using my power would have been too obvious," Heero stated bluntly.
"I'm sure that you all have perfectly good reasons for not using your powers for personal gain, when the fact is that any of you had enough power to steal, or even earn enough money to settle down in another country where our kind aren't hunted like animals, and be wealthy enough to live like kings. For that matter, you could probably create the wealth. But you didn't, for much the same reason that I did not leave the Sank kingdom when I was forced off the throne. We all have jobs to do - me to instruct you, and you to fight."
Trowa could feel the growing anger in those around him, not at Zechs but at whoever or whatever it was that had forced them to the Sank kingdom and presumably to this meeting had been playing with them long before they escaped. The thought angered him as well, not for himself, but for Quatre, but he pushed those emotions aside. "You said you're supposed to instruct us," he observed, not because he thought anyone had missed it, but because he wanted them to calm down. "What are you supposed to teach us?"
Zechs turned his mask towards him. "Some things about your power that you might not know - some more about combining your power. Most of this you could probably figure out on your own, but more importantly I know about your enemy, and about the last Chosen, the ones who lived a thousand years ago and gave their lives to put up the shield around our world."
"Gave their lives?" Duo repeated. "I thought they just cast a spell."
Zechs looked at him, and even the mask couldn't hide the disgust on his face. "You think a simple casting could make a spell like that? They sealed the spell with their own blood, that was the only way it would last long enough for you to be born! Have you ever seen one of these?" he asked, reaching into another drawer and withdrawing a black stone.
He tossed it to Quatre, who caught it, then cried out in pain and tossed it back in the air. It landed on the bad, and Quatre stared down at his own hands, which were burned and red. They glowed briefly, then returned to normal as he healed himself. "What is that?!" he demanded. "It's evil!"
Zechs stared at him, pulled on a pair of gloves, and then picked up the stone. "That's the strongest reaction I've ever seen," he muttered. "It actually burned you?"
"Yes! It hurts! I mean, it hurt me, but there's something inside that hurts, too..."
Zechs nodded. "This is an example of the blood magic that the demons used against your predecessors. One of my duties was to find and destroy as many of these as I could, but I had to keep one to show you."
Trowa stared at the stone as he spoke, noticing now that it was actually a crystal, but instead of the normal pink/white color, this one was black. As he stared, he blinked, because for an instant he'd seen a black/red glow around it, and the face of an old man staring out at him from within the depths of the crystal with an expression of sadness. He jerked slightly and shook his head, trying to dispel the disturbing image. Where had that come from?
"What is it?" Quatre repeated, staring at the stone with a sort of horrified fascination.
"It is a crystal, made by the demon masters a thousand years ago. They made these from the lives of mages - they'd hunt them down and kill them in spell. As the mages' blood spilled on the stone, their life energy and magical power was trapped in the crystal, which turns black from the blood. Then the demons could use the mages' power as if it was their own. In the old times, your predecessors had the aid of all the mages who were alive and not being controlled by the demons, because if the demons got this world, they would all be killed that way. You will not have any help, because it would take a thousand of today's mages to equal the power of one of the normal old mages, not to mention the powerful ones. But that also means that the demons will not have any extra mage energy on their side, so it comes out even again. The real fight will be between yourselves and the demon-controlled humans. They don't even have to be mages, although most of them were last time." He rolled the stone from one gloved hand to another, then casually tossed it onto the bed. "Now that you've seen it and you know what dark blood magic looks like, I can destroy this one as well. I'll destroy it after I finish training you. It takes quite a bit of energy on my part, and I'll be flat on my back for a few weeks afterwards."
"Gently," Trowa said quietly, finally figuring out what he'd seen in the stone. "There's a man's soul in there."
"What?!" Zechs actually sounded surprised as he froze in the action of picking up the stone again.
The others stared at him, and Trowa looked at the ground, not liking having all this attention focused on him. "I saw an old man staring out of the center of the crystal," he said. "He's trapped in there, and has been for a thousand years."
Zechs picked up the stone, holding it more carefully than he had before. "What else do you see?" he asked, walking over and holding the stone out for Trowa to touch. Trowa felt Quatre pulling in slightly, trying to get as far away from the stone as he could. Trowa nerved himself and then reached out a hand to touch the stone.
To his surprise, it didn't hurt him at all. He was instantly confronted with the desire to wash his hand in the cleanest, most pure stream he could find, just to get the reek of the filth of the stone off of him, but it didn't hurt him. Trying not to grimace in disgust, he ran his fingertips lightly over the surface, and once again saw the old man looking out at him, this time his expression vaguely hopeful. "He wants to be free. He died a thousand years ago, he wants to move on already," Trowa said. "He has family waiting for him there." He finally shuddered and withdrew his hand, wiping it several times on the thick rug on the floor, trying to get rid of the contamination. He felt Quatre's comforting presence in the back of his mind.
"He died in agony," Quatre said softly, tears shining in his eyes. "They tortured him to death to get his power." He bit his lip. "That's all I can see. His life is in there, as well - his memories - but I can't see past the pain." He closed his eyes and turned his head away from the stone.
"And you?" Zechs asked, looking at the others. Heero held out his hand, and Zechs handed him the stone.
Heero's reaction was almost as bad as Quatre's. The stone seemed to leap out of his hand, and Zechs barely managed to catch it. Heero stared at his burned hands until they started glowing bright white light, and when that light faded, his hands were fine. "Energy," he grunted. "A life."
Zechs held the stone out to Wufei, who refused to touch it. "I see..." he broke off and shuddered. "I should not touch it. It might take over my mind." He declined to explain his words, but Trowa noticed that he was avoiding looking at the stone directly.
"Guess it's my turn," Duo said, and took the stone from Zechs. His violet eyes immediately went vague, and his mouth dropped open slightly. After a few seconds he blinked and swallowed. "Power..." he said softly. "I sense so much power... the mages were more powerful than we ever imagined. But it's tainted." He frowned. "The guy's soul has been tied here far too long," he said with a determined look in his eyes. Trowa felt Duo do something that made his energy increase exponentially, and then that energy was directed into the stone. The stone started to glow black, and then it started to shake in his hands, but the stone refused to let go of it's victim.
Trowa continued to stare at the man in the stone, unable to tear his mind away from the man who now stood up, fighting the circumstances of his death with all his might. He was... what? He was trying to say something...
"Blood!" Quatre suddenly shouted. "It's not just his blood that's there! The demons tied the stone to themselves with a drop of their own blood!"
Duo suddenly grinned in that bone-chilling way. "Blood, huh?" he asked, and then pulled out one of his knives, and quickly pricked his own index finger with the point. A few drops of red blood welled up and then dropped onto the stone, where they were instantly absorbed by the crystal. Duo's grin broadened slightly, and Trowa felt the slightest surge of energy from the violet-eyed boy, and the crystal dissolved in his hands, turning into dust and falling to the ground. For a second there was a little pile of dust there, then that, too, dissolved away to nothing.
There was an explosion of power from somewhere incredibly distant, but also right there in the room. There was a flash of light in front of Duo, with resolved itself into the glowing figure of the old man Trowa had seen in the crystal, mostly transparent, like a ghost.
The ghost reached out a hand towards Duo's head. :Thank you, my son,: he whispered, and then the light disappeared.
They all stared in shock, first at Duo, then at the spot where the ghost had been standing.
Duo recovered first, and decided to break up the tension in his usual tasteless fashion. He turned to Zechs, a superior smile on his face, and asked, "Have you ever seen that before, Mr. Smartypants?"
--------------------------------------------
"Where did you learn blood magic?" Zechs demanded in a hoarse voice when he recovered.
"The faeries," Duo said with a shrug. "Are you going to teach us or not?" Duo was trying to cover up the fact that he was very, very frightened by what had just happened. He'd just touched that man's soul - just for a fraction of a second, but that didn't change the fact that he'd done it. He knew that he'd done good with his power, possibly for the first time in his life, but at such a price! He felt so dirty... Is this the way his power worked? Either he killed, or he felt so disgusted with himself that he wished he could turn his power on himself?
Zechs shook his head slightly, gathering his composure, and Duo noticed how the older man unconsciously drew back away from him. He senses it too. He knows what I am, he observed dryly.
"I can tell you who you are, for starters, and I believe I know why you had the reactions you just had," Zechs said, still looking at all of them as if they'd just grown a second head. At least, that's what Duo was assuming that look was for - it was kinda tough to tell with the stupid helmet.
"So spill it," Duo said in his coldest voice, and saw the others turn to stare at him.
"You get your power from Death," Zechs said, and Duo snorted.
"Tell me something I don't know."
"In the prophecies, you're usually referred to as the Laughing Killer. Because of your power you should have an affinity and better understanding for the next world than most people, which was probably why you were able to free the man so easily, and how he could manifest himself in your presence." There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice, as if he were just guessing, and hoping that he guessed right. Duo hadn't missed the slight bitterness in his voice when he talked about how easily Duo had freed the man, when earlier Zechs had mentioned that it took him weeks to recover from doing the same thing. "Your power comes from Death in general, not violent or premature death, which is unique. There are others who can get power from death - that stone was a prime example of that type of magic - but you don't need to do that. An old man dying in his sleep will provide as much energy for you as any type."
But what if I don't want power from anyone, even some old guy who's had a good long life? Duo protested mentally, but kept his objections to himself. He'd seen enough of this Zechs/Milliardo person to realize that this guy wasn't in control of his situation any more than they were, and was considerably more bitter because of it. It wasn't his fault that Duo was what he was.
Zechs turned to Heero. "Your power comes from Life. You're usually called the Solemn Soldier in the prophecies - I wonder where that one came from," he said facetiously, but Heero didn't show any signs of being amused. Not that he ever did. "You get energy from living things - again, no spells required, their lives just fuel your energy by their existence. Your power is essentially incompatible with the blood-magic that they used to make the stone, which is probably why it burned you. You could feel the life energy trapped in there, but you couldn't touch it. Am I right?" Heero glared at him, but nodded slightly.
Duo felt a knot of unreasoning resentment at this announcement. How come I get stuck with Death while an assassin gets life? he wondered, and for a second the resentment was aimed directly at Heero. That emotion lasted only a second, though. It wasn't Heero's fault that his power was life any more than it was Duo's fault his power was Death. Unless I did something to deserve this. But that was impossible... wasn't it? In any case, there was no reason for him to hate Heero about this. He hadn't quite figured out whose fault it was, and when he did, he intended to hunt them down and carve out their heart with a spoon, but for now, there was nothing he could do about it, so he let the thought slide out of his mind. Not thinking was always easier than the alternative.
"Your power comes from Magic itself," Zechs said to Wufei, who looked unimpressed. "And in the prophecies you're called the Foreign Dragon, because most of the prophecies were written by people from our own land. In others, you're simply called the Dragon." Wufei grunted softly. "Your power comes from the presence of magic in the world. I would imagine that your power will suddenly increase greatly when the barrier comes down." Wufei nodded slightly, a calculating look in his eyes. "And you refused to touch the stone. Why?"
Wufei glared at him, doing a fair imitation of Heero's 'I'm going to kill you' look, but answered. "My symbol was on it, carved on it in power."
"Your what?" Duo asked without thinking.
"My symbol. My clan sign, along with my personal one. It had no business being on that... that twisted thing." Now Wufei was glaring at him.
"Oh." Duo thought how he would feel if his secret name had been on that thing, and shivered. "Sorry. So... you think it was a trap, or something?"
Wufei evidently was surprised at the apology, and thought for a few seconds before he answered. "The stone is ancient. I do not know how they knew what my symbol would be so many years ago, and I distrust that. The magic itself was tainted, evil, and I mistrust that even more. It is possible that I could have somehow filtered the magic so it was useable again, but it is also possible that touching that with my own power could have somehow contaminated me. It could have been a trap that way, or it could simply be a warning, telling me how powerful they were, that they knew such things. But I would not touch it unless I knew."
It was the longest single statement Duo had ever heard from him, excepting his rants on 'onna's' (he'd finally figured out that word meant women) and justice in general. He had a lot to say on those two topics, and almost nothing to say about anything else, besides occasionally calling Duo a baka. (He'd been very insulted when he finally got Quatre to tell him that it meant something like 'idiot'.) So this was very impressive, in Duo's eyes.
"That's a good idea. If you don't know what something is, trust your instincts. They'll keep you alive more often then not. Your power," he said, turning to Trowa, "Comes from nature, as you've probably guessed already. I'm not sure why, but the prophecies call you the Masked Clown."
Duo burst out laughing at that. "How do you like that?" he exclaimed. "How do you think they knew that long ago that you'd be a circus clown? Hey, do you... OW!" he shouted at Heero grabbed the end of his braid and pulled hard.
"Do you think they knew you'd be such a baka?" Heero muttered, but there was a strange light in his eyes. For once they didn't look entirely dead. It was the first time he'd called Duo 'baka', either.
Duo grinned. This was too much fun. "I'm not a baka!" he exclaimed. "And I'd thank you if you... OW!" he shouted as Heero tugged again. All right, this will be less fun if he scalps me. Note to self: don't try this when he's got a hold of my braid. Duo grabbed his own braid above where Heero was holding it in an attempt to protect his head. "Come on, Heero... OW!" Well, that hadn't worked. Duo finally fell silent. He could try again later, when Heero wasn't within arm's reach.
Zechs turned back to Trowa, who was watching him with the same calm-eyed gaze that he turned on everything. Boy, had it been creepy when he suddenly started laughing before...
"Your power comes from the Earth itself. That's about all I can tell you. Apparently the last Earth-Chosen was quite close-mouthed about himself. I'd stay away from the wastelands, though, if I were you. That is the most unnatural place I've ever seen."
Trowa nodded, but Duo couldn't resist asking, "You've been to the wastelands?"
"I visited it, briefly." Zechs' tone discouraged questioning, but not as much as Heero's slight warning tug on Duo's braid.
Finally Zechs turned to Quatre, who swallowed but raised his chin as he faced Zechs. "Your power comes from people, as I mentioned before. The prophecies call you the Desert Prince." A flash of pain crossed over Quatre's face before he got control of himself. "You get your power from the people in general, and the mages, such as they are, in specific. I'm assuming you're something of a leader, because you may have to lead the mages that you people freed against the enemy. Because of the nature of your power, if you ever really hated a person, it would cut you off from your power."
"Why is it that way?" Quatre asked. "Duo never killed anyone until his power emerged, but he didn't lose it, and Heero has killed, but he hasn't lost his power. Why am I... why can't I..." he trailed off helplessly, an irritated expression on his face.
"Because your power is strongly tied into love. It's the only power that really has emotions tied to it. The rest can exist independent of emotions, because they have little to do with humans themselves, just with their existence. Because just being there isn't what makes a human - it's the soul. And souls are linked by love, not by hate." Zechs made a noise in the back of his throat, and Duo would have sworn that he was raising an eyebrow. "That is a direct quote from one of the journals of your predecessor, by the way. Apparently he had similar questions to you."
"Journals?" Quatre asked, looking interested. "Could I read one? I'd love to see how our... um, predecessors thought."
"I can do better than that. Now that I've told you this, I can discharge with the main part of my duty," Zechs said, rising.
"You mean that was it? That's all you're going to tell us?"
"That is all I am allowed to tell you right now. However, there are more things that you have to know before I can start teaching you how to fully use your powers. Come on."
Duo's curiosity was roused to the point that he didn't make any smart comments as they rose to follow Zechs. That and the fact that despite them getting up to move, Heero hadn't let go of his braid. "Hey, Heero, think you could let go yet?" Duo asked as he stumbled slightly, trying to keep his head close enough to Heero so he wouldn't get his head yanked.
"No," Heero said succinctly, but Duo stared at him. Was it just him, or was Heero actually smiling slightly? Nah, it had to be his imagination, he decided as he walked right next to Heero, hands on his own head, holding it protectively. There was no way he'd seen even a hint of a smile on Heero's face. Was there?