Note: Thank you very, very much, Dark_One Shadowphyre and "Marina Herald" for helping me with this part. Without your help, this part would not have been written. Sorry, Marina- your *white-hot* knives idea was modified, but it was a good thought.
Silence
Part 12
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Seidou Rosuto
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Shira knelt in a darkened chamber, painstakingly carving a pentagram on the floor. There, alone in the room in which he performed his most powerful magical rites, he felt at peace. Power, dark and pleasing, emanated from every particle of the room. It revealed itself in the form of the silver pentagram in the middle of the black cloth covering his alter, the blood-red candles surrounding his alter, the weak, eerie light the candles cast upon the room, and the dark crystalline object in the center of the alter, inside the pentagram. It was delicious, this dark power he possessed. And there, in his workroom, he could concentrate on his prized magic...and take care of The Problem.
The Problem. Shira grimaced and stood, taking care not to touch his finished pentagram on the floor. He walked over to his working-table, his brow burrowed in consternation.
The Problem was truly wearing on his patience. Meiyuu should have been easy to handle, by all rights. Yet, the boy had proved himself a nuisance time and time again. Shira remembered the day Meiyuu's father had been sacrificed. Meiyuu had followed, and the meddlesome child had nearly broken Shira's concentration. That would have been a catastrophe indeed. Spells, once they were begun, had to be finished. If there were any failure to complete the spell, the spell would backlash upon the caster. And with such a powerful spell as the spell he used to steal the souls of elves and kill them...Shira shivered to think what might have happened to him had he actually lost hold of the spell that day. For a few moments, he had been so close to death——and all for the suspicions of a part-Elven child. In a way, Shira was happy the Elf he had killed that day had been Meiyuu's father. It served the brat right to witness the death of his own father. He almost wished Meiyuu could have been forced to watch his mother's death as well. The bitch had screamed before she died.
For spying on his elders, Meiyuu had been punished severely. He had been warned not to say a word to anyone. Naturally, he had disobeyed. Fortunately, the man he had told was not the most careful or intelligent of people. Shira smiled. A little push from a convenient balcony soon took care of that problem. Meiyuu himself, however was not so easily taken care of. The boy, after all, was only a boy. And it would have been extremely suspicious for two deaths to follow so close to one another. And so the potion was given to him a second time.
For a time, it seemed things were finally going right. Meiyuu's memories had been seemingly erased, and the pest had ceased his troublemaking. But then, catastrophe had struck in handling of...Mira.
Mira had been the only child of Meiyuu's sister. She had also been the youngest ever to be chosen for sacrifice. But instead of dying on the alter as she should have, she had wound up being killed escaping! It was apparent someone had warned her of the predicament she had been in. Apparently that someone had managed to resist the potion he had been given and had retained enough of his memories to warn his niece of her danger. And it did not take a genius to figure out who that someone was. Meiyuu.
The name was like a black taste in Shira's mouth. What right did that upstart have to ruin the sacrifice? What right did he have to resist the potion that had been given to him and actually retain enough of his memories to ruin the sacrifice? How dared he be clever enough to feign a total loss of memory, and thus fool Shira? How dared he openly defy them after his niece's death, asking such uncomfortable questions about the death of all the Elves?
And how dared he help Legolas escape? The blond Elf was the first person Meiyuu had befriended, Shira remembered. And, against all reason and belief, the Elf had managed to ease some of the youth's anger and pain. Things had finally seemed to take a turn for the better. Meiyuu, happier with the Elf around, had quieted down a bit. Legolas had even been the perfect candidate for the sacrifice. His soul was so strong...So why did Meiyuu have to ruin their sacrifice again? Couldn't he simply accept the comfort Legolas had offered him while it lasted? Did he have to mess with Shira's plans?
Shira's hands clenched. Of all the people in the village, it would be Meiyuu who would have an Old Power. It would be the one pest who caused so much trouble to have the power to cause them even more trouble.
Shira suddenly relaxed his clenched fist. So be it then. Meiyuu may be the one to have the Old Power, but it would be Shira who would make use of that power. The boy would just waste his gift, and that would not do at all. Not when he could so easily put the child under mind-control and implement his own abilities with Meiyuu's powers. With an Old Power to use, Shira would never need to worry about the barrier ever being lowered again. And it would be a simple matter to combine the boy's abilities with his own to force Legolas to return. Of course, Meiyuu would have to be put under mind-control first for that to happen.
Shira smiled humorlessly. That was a simple matter, thanks to the blood the youth had left in the snow. Blood is a wonderful thing, the evil spell-caster thought. It could be used to do such great, evil things...But first things first.
Shira walked over and stood inside the pentagram. The warding spell came to him easily. Warding spells were always easy and very useful. They prevented him from having to kill any intruders and cause himself unnecessary trouble. As soon as he felt the ward fall into place, Shira carefully stepped out of the pentagram and returned to the table.
He picked up a vial of blood.
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Somewhere Near Middle Earth
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Legolas and Aragorn walked side by side, speaking softly of the old friends and acquaintances Legolas was beginning to remember.
Gimli followed closely. He swung his axe as he trudged through the snow, annoyed. The air was sharp and crisp, and Gimli found he could not breathe as deeply as he would have liked.
Frodo walked some distance behind Gimli. He looked back and saw that Meiyuu was walking very slowly. "What's keeping you?" the Hobbit asked.
Meiyuu only continued walking slowly behind the others, looking to be too lost in thought to have heard. He constantly rubbed at his bandaged hands...as if they itched or burned.
"Who lives in Rivendall?" Legolas questioned.
Aragorn smiled at his pronunciation of Rivendell. Legolas was actually much better at speaking the common Western dialect now that Aragorn had given him lessons. His three years living as 'Miataru' had not changed his learning abilities, and he had proved himself as proficient at learning as he ever was.
"Not many, Legolas. Lord Elrond remains, as do Elladan and Elrohir. But they are leaving soon for the West."
Legolas nodded slowly. "I know them- or did, did I not?" He remembered something of them...a few fuzzy images flickering in and out of his mind. Mostly he remembered the moments he shared with Aragorn, laughing, talking, or simply sitting in companionable silence.
"Yes. Lord Elrond was the Elven lord who summoned us to the Council. There, the Fellowship was formed to destroy the Ring." Aragorn grinned. "You and Boromir didn't quite tolerate each other at first, but you eventually became friends." The grin faded. "At least, until he died."
Legolas cleared his throat. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered. "I did not mean to intrude on your grief, Aragorn. I just want-"
"-to remember," Aragorn finished. "It's all right."
A voice interrupted them.
"Shit," Meiyuu muttered, wincing. He had been biting his lower lip, using the pain to distract him from the steadily worsening pain in his hands. Breaking the skin of his lip, however, had not been a part of the plan. He grimaced, tasting coppery blood in his mouth.
Aragorn glanced back at the boy, frowning. "What did you just say?" A dark eyebrow was raised pointedly.
"Nothing," Meiyuu said innocently. He reached up to feel his head, making sure the hood was over his face. He did not expect his hands to suddenly explode in an inferno of pain.
He cried out then, unable to stifle himself. His hands hurt. Hurt? Hurt didn't begin to describe the pulsating waves of agony tearing through them. Even as he watched, fresh blood seeped through the bandages.
Oh gods, he thought. Not again! Not...he suddenly remembered he was not alone. Somehow, he managed to meet the gazes of his companions squarely.
"What's wrong?" Legolas asked, concern in his eyes.
"Nothing. I just cut my lip," Meiyuu answered. He began walking faster, hoping Legolas, Aragorn, and the others would leave him alone. It would do them no good, do him no good for them to stop and try to help him. The pain would only get worse, and they could not spare the days it would take for it to get better. They had to keep moving. Their enemies would soon chase after them again, if they were not doing so already. The sooner they got to Middle Earth, wherever that was, the better.
Legolas and Aragorn exchanged a frown when they saw the boy pass them, muttering something. It was strange Meiyuu would cry out for only a cut lip... Oh well, Aragorn thought, the boy was probably tired. They *had* been walking the entire day. They should stop for a moment or two and rest. It was near time for a break, anyways. In about five hours, they would be back in Middle Earth.
Sometime later, Meiyuu silently left the chosen rest area and made his way to a small stream. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was not frozen. After making sure no one followed him, Meiyuu quickly removed his hood, flinching as the pain intensified. Damn Shira, he thought bitterly. He unwrapped his hands and stuck them in the water, ignoring the sudden throb of pain from the newly opened scars as they hit the icy water, ignoring the blood that swirled in the slow-moving stream from the whip-lashes, the raw and bleeding wounds, on his hands.
However, as blood started seeping down from the tearing scars on his face, the pain was more than he could bear. A cry tore itself from his throat. The agony was as fresh and new as the first time he had been whipped. He felt his skin, both that of his face and his hands, cracking, ripping itself apart to let yet more red fluid slip down his face, redden the water. He wanted to curse, to rail at Shira for putting him through such torment. Instead he lay flat on the ground and, holding his breath, dipped his blood-streaked face in the water, staying there as long as he could.
Preoccupied by the freezing water about his face, Meiyuu was unprepared for the two hands that suddenly pulled him out of the water. Twisting around, he caught sight of Legolas and Aragorn. Undoubtedly, they had heard his cry of pain and found him thus. What had they thought, Meiyuu wondered, to see him stretched out with his face in a stream?
"What are you doing?" Legolas questioned carefully, trying to get the pronunciation right.
"Nothing." Meiyuu licked his lips and tasted a salty, coppery residue. Blood, he noted, making a face.
Aragorn frowned. "Then why did you have your hands and face in the stream? It's too cold for even an Elf to bathe in."
Meiyuu shrugged. It would do no good to tell them and…his thought was suddenly interrupted by searing pain. The rest of his scars had broken and dripped salty redness. He choked back a scream. He couldn't… He couldn't let Legolas or Aragorn see his
pain. He couldn't... He reached up a hand to pull his hood down.
A larger, gentler hand stopped him.
"What happened to your bandages?" Legolas frowned, seeing the fresh blood on his friend's hand.
"Took 'em off." Meiyuu hid his face from view.
Aragorn took the boy's other hand. "What happened to your scars? Why are they like this?" Aragorn pressed sternly. The boy's scars had disappeared, replaced with what looked to be whiplashes, but not from a whip familiar to the older man.
Meiyuu scowled and flinched. "Isn't anything to worry about." He kept his face averted. "Happens sometimes…"
Legolas' frown deepened. "Tell us the truth, Meiyuu."
"I don't know," Meiyuu finally said, looking at Legolas. "Just happens."
"Meiyuu!" Legolas gasped, seeing the raw, red, torn, and bleeding lashes on his friend's face. He knelt down and carefully looked at his friend's injuries. "Can you do anything, Aragorn?" Legolas turned to the concerned man next to him.
Aragorn nodded. "That's why you were doing that, to try to numb the pain." It was a statement.
"Yeah," Meiyuu admitted. "Didn't work, though."
Legolas said gently, "Let's get those treated."
They returned to the temporary resting spot for Aragorn's bandages and herbs. Meiyuu hid his face behind Legolas. He wouldn't let anyone else see his wounds, if he could help it. He didn't want to be seen as weak or helpless.
Thus, he was visibly relieved to see Aragorn take them to another clearing, one out of earshot from the main camp. It was then, while Aragorn cleaned his face-wounds, that he asked the question that had been nagging at him ever since they had left the cave they had last slept in.
"You two are together, aren't you?" Judging from Legolas and Aragorn's expressions, they had *not* expected him to ask that.
Legolas choked. What a time to ask about *that*. It wasn't that it wasn't true, it was just that...well...The Elf glanced askance at Aragorn, a silent question in his eyes. The latter shrugged, and Legolas sighed. Though he had hoped that Meiyuu would not ask... Meiyuu had caught them once already and had seen it for himself. Denying it would not do any good.
Legolas nodded. "Yes, Meiyuu."
Triumph flashed across the youth's face. "I thought so," Meiyuu smirked. "Especially after... Do the others know?"
"No, they don't," Aragorn answered, as he finished cleaning the marks. Some kind of liquid had been in them, and it had been difficult to remove. He now applied the aloe, and, judging from Meiyuu's flinching, it stung slightly.
"I won't say anything if you don't want me too." Meiyuu shrugged. "I was just curious." A sly, curious look entered his eyes. "Were you two together before Legolas came to the town?"
Legolas shook his head. "From the faint memories I do remember, Aragorn and I were only close friends."
Aragorn took Meiyuu's right hand and began cleaning it, grinning as the hand jerked slightly. "Though I did care for him more than I told him," he added.
"That itches," Meiyuu protested. "I remember when you first came, Legolas. Your hair was much shorter then."
Aragorn laughed and said, "I told you, Legolas. Your hair is a bit long."
"I happen to like it long," Legolas retorted. He looked at Meiyuu. "You like my hair long, don't you?"
"Uh-uh," Meiyuu backed out. "You're not dragging me into this." He grinned and winced slightly. "But your hair is pretty, Legolas."
Aragorn laughed again. "Smart answer, Meiyuu." He placed herbs on the twitching hand and re-bandaged it.
Meiyuu held out his other hand. "That argument would take all day," he pointed out. Aragorn's ministrations eased his pain, somewhat. The burning sensation started to fade.
Legolas' blue eyes sparkled with challenge. "I bet I would win the argument."
"Says you," Aragorn grinned, in the process of re-bandaging Meiyuu's other hand.
"Thank you, Aragorn," Meiyuu murmured. He fought the urge to rub his hands. He knew that they would heal better if he did not scratch them.
"You're welcome." Aragorn caught the boy's wrist when Meiyuu tried to pull his hood down. "If you don't stop doing that, I'm going to cut your hood off, Meiyuu."
Legolas froze, not liking the direction the conversation was heading.
"If you do, I'll throw you in the stream," the boy replied, challenging the other man's words.
"I don't think you could, my friend," Legolas said. "Aragorn is much older than you."
Meiyuu's eyes held mischief in them. "Older does not always mean wiser," he taunted.
Aragorn raised an eyebrow at the bold words. "I could throw you in the stream first," he said.
"No, you couldn't," Meiyuu muttered, beginning to feel the slightest tinge of worry. He didn't know how to swim.
"Watch me." Aragorn caught the boy and slung him over a shoulder.
"Put me down!" Meiyuu shouted, aware of Legolas' laughter. The youth had never felt so embarrassed before, twisting and struggling for all he was worth in the man's fierce grip.
Legolas finally managed to stop laughing. "Don't throw him in, Aragorn. It's too cold."
Aragorn sighed. "Ruin all my fun," he teased. He wouldn't have thrown the boy in really. It had merely been a joke.
Meiyuu tensed, ignoring the pain that flared up in his face from his sudden movement. This was...this was too similar. Slung over someone's shoulder...restricted from moving...watching as his father was...was...
"Let me go!" he screamed, the anguish evident in his voice.
Aragorn immediately set him down on the ground. Legolas jumped up from his place on a boulder and gasped. Meiyuu was ashen. The boy trembled in terror.
"Meiyuu?" Legolas questioned gently, stepping towards his friend.
Aragorn said, "I wouldn't have thrown you in. Why are you so upset?" Concern was in his voice.
The boy licked his lips, struggling to keep his composure. He looked first at Legolas, and then at Aragorn, before he took a shuddering, deep breath. The two standing in front of him were stunned to see tears trickling down his face.
Meiyuu whispered sadly, "There are some things you want to remember… and others you cannot forget, even if you would." After he finished speaking, Meiyuu turned and ran, wanting nothing more than to be alone in his grief.
To be continued
