I've been told that there's always a little bit of evil in anyone.

I know that, for certain, the world's not only white, not only black. I'm far too old to believe that, and I've lived many things already that have only proved that not only the humans, but the dragons and even the monsters and Mazoku are only small things sailing around in a big sea of gray. Some of us live in the light gray, inching close to the white. Some others like the shadows much better, and take joy in the black.

But they're never there. No one's ever there, in the white or in the black.

It used to bother me, not being totally in the white. It felt… dirty. Me - a priestess of all things!! Not totally pure… it sounded silly, impossible.

But then again, even without me knowing, my hands were always stained in the color of blood, for even before I was born, my kin committed one of the most terrifying murders I have heard of since the War of the Monsters fall. They killed an entire race of dragons… our brothers, the Ancient Dragons, killed by us.

Of course, that remained a secret. If there weren't any Ancient remaining, why even mention it? Let the guilt sleep and be forgotten.

But… I can still see him in my mind. Why did he always appear to me like a little child, if he was already grown when the Ancient's Holocaust happened?

Like a little black Angel, with his black feathered wings around him, crying in the middle of the battlefield, surrounded by the corpses of his race… his family, surely his mother and father as well - I wonder if he had any brothers or sisters? I guess it doesn't matter; they were all killed, leaving a young child… at least that's how I always saw him in my visions.

Val will not, of course, retain the name of Valgaav. He's gotten a chance to start over again, and it's up to me to make sure he'll use that chance to the best. I will not allow him to be named after a Mazoku Lord, and not the one that took advantage of him when his mind was in the weakest moment. He will be named Valteria - I know that's a name the Ancients would like.

I will raise him like my own son. I don't know how and when I'm going to explain him about his past, but I'll have to…

And that brings me to him. Him!!! Just thinking of him makes me… I don't know, and I hate him even more because of that.

Why has he come so often to 'visit'? Why does he 'drops by' for a cup of tea? A cup of the angry emotions he gets from me, I would say!!

What if he corrupts Val? That is what I fear the most… he could tell Val about his past sooner than I had planned or he could convince him while he was young to join the mazoku again or … he could even kill him…

And if I couldn't protect him?

And if I wasn't strong enough, fast enough to save him? He's my child… my duty as the last Golden Dragon from the Fire Clan… but above all, my son…

What if… what if I'm not strong enough to resist him What if the little black inside of me grows because of his influence?

Already I can feel it… when he 'comes to visit', appearing at my table with a cup of tea and sometimes pastries, and always that smug grin on his face…. I can't feel half the hatred I felt for him initially. Anger still surges through my veins when I see him, I can still feel his presence behind of me as if something wrong was about to happen, but something deep inside of me, inside of my mind, my soul, my heart, I don't know what, moves in a different direction, and… I don't know why.

Xelloss. The word rolls on my tongue, only getting stuck a little at the end. Thoughts of him pop into my head all the time now, and I'm not sure whether I like or dislike that. Can I even talk about him like a 'him'? He's a mazoku, after all. Do mazoku have gender? They reproduce by tearing apart parts of themselves, so different sexes may not be necessary.

But what about Deep Sea, or the Beastmaster? They're Mazoku Lords, and they are female - or at least they take a female form. Why? Why did Xelloss decided to look like a man and not a woman? Was it because of his Master, Zelas? Maybe she keeps him as some kind of slave - as in that kind of slave. Therefore, mazoku are able to have sex, if it's only for the fun…

And I was speaking about being a pure priestess? What kind of thoughts are those, Filia? Certainly not the thoughts a priestess should have. That's just what's been happening to me lately. Things like that appear in my mind - why should I care if mazoku can or cannot mate? Why should I be thinking about that namagomi, and what he's doing, and if he's just having a vacation or destroying some other place?

And if I shouldn't, why do I keep on? My mind has been wandering too much lately, and wandering towards the black, instead of the white.

Once I heard that people that claim to be all-white and nice are actually acting like that because they're much more attracted to the black, but are afraid to admit so. I'm not sure about that - for instance, I can't phantom Amelia one day simply admitting that all her Justice obsession was actually a façade to cover up her true, evil, destructive self. Yeah right - we'll have Amelia the mazoku next, and Lina-san will have to kill her because she'll love to do evil as much as she loves to do justice.

On second thought, a mazoku Amelia would be scary. But, thankfully, not going to happen in a few billions years.

But I have to admit, the black, the evil, the obscure, does hold a special something for me… you could say I'm just curious. But the attraction I feel whenever the mazoku and their ways and minds are mentioned goes far beyond simple curiosity. It's a desire - a need to know about that!! I want to know why are they the way they are, I want to know why they thrive on negative feelings, I… I want to feel that kind of energy in my body, that kind of satisfaction being 'bad' brings.

It's like when a small kid annoys a girl; pulling her hair, calling her fat, poking her, pushing her, or when he beats up another boy and kicks him while he's down. The feeling of power being evil brings is beyond anything I can imagine. Maybe that's why mazoku are mazoku and will remain being mazoku - it's not that bad - in a physical way of talking, I mean!!! Not that I would ever want to join them…

But really, think about it. Their bodies are not made of flesh and bones; so no normal weapon can hurt them. Even with one of the lost Light weapons, to hurt a high-level mazoku is close to impossible, and normal magic doesn't work against them either. You could say being a mazoku is safe: You kill, don't get killed and in the mean time get some breakfast from the poor soul you're torturing.

And here I go again: I shouldn't be thinking that. Those are only the kind of things that filth like Xelloss think - along with the many fruit-cake adolescents that exist nowadays.

Xelloss… I don't understand him, and I'm not sure I want to. What would be the use? Maybe some things are better left unexplained, and he's among those things.

…or perhaps it's not the feeling of power, but the feeling of being able to ruin something perfect? Perhaps they like to make the white gray, and make it doubt it's nature?

Like me… I was white, and now I'm doubting everything - even myself. I'm slowly turning into a darker shade of gray, all thanks to him… maybe that's just what he wanted; and he has already won this battle, this war, maybe he has already won… myself.




"My, Filia-san, that looks terrible!!"

Filia looked down at her hands. The vase she had been molding was indeed looking terrible - it didn't look like a vase, to begin with!! And her dress was stained with clay, and her hands - let's not start with her hands!! They looked like two badly baked clay sculptures. She stared in shock.

"You shouldn't allow your mind to wander, you know." He took a mouthful of a strawberry pastry he had brought and continued. "You loose focus and things like that happen."

"H…how long have you been there?¡?" She exclaimed, he hands twitching under the mud. He took a sip of tea before answering with a big grin.

"Why, for a while already!! You were so lost in thought, you didn't even notice me!! Perhaps you're losing your touch for both pottery and mazoku-sensing, ne?" She didn't know whether to be surprised, angry or afraid.

"Oi, Filia-san." Xelloss leaned towards her face. "You have clay in your nose." With another grin, he wiped the clay with a finger.

"N-n… Fi- you - how - " She stuttered, feeling heat rising to her face.

"Now, Filia-san, you should really thing your answer before trying to talk, mmmh?" He poked her nose again. And Filia's mind was set.

"YOU NAMAGOMI!!!! HOW DARE YOU!!!" Xelloss' head was soon smashed with a nearby pot. And a vase. And the vase she had been doing. That left Xelloss' hair looking like a big chocolate cake with colored candy. But he didn't have time to ask her if she wanted to eat him - Filia had already sent him flying off with her mace.

Standing in battle position, Filia panted.

Maybe Xelloss had already won a few battles - but he still had a war to win.






Author Notes: As you can see, this is the closest thing to a X/F fic I can write =P

This was written at 5:15 am - then how is it possible that it is not very deranged, more introspective than anything else I've written and most definitely different to basically anything else written at that hour?

Simple - I've just gotten back from Europe and for me, 5:15 would be 12:15 in the noon =P

At any rate, I hope you enjoyed this small introspective created basically by the number of "Please write some X/F!!" reviews in my other story, Roses (Thanks to all who reviewed, BTW!!!), so I simply decided to write this.

Maybe, and I say maybe, I'll write a counterpart for this - a Xelloss introspective, I mean. I'll have to think about it (Read: Review and tell me what you want, and then I'll write.)

Ja ne!!