A storm of scattered sensations rampaged around Firia while she drowned in an ocean of red. Flashes of broken visions flitted past and lost touches caressed her cheek as faint words echoed in her ear. The barrage constantly assaulted Firia as she felt herself being pulled further downward. Here was a girl lying, bleeding, begging for her life....there the pierce of an arrow that was shot five hundred years ago...the solemn tones of an oath of loyalty shifted into mad, happy laughter.
Firia whipped her head left and right, arms fending off monsters...children...lovers...
"Xelloss, your mind...your memories?!"
Firia grasped above her head for a rope knotted into a hangman's noose...but it gave way under her fingers, made of nothing but thought.
"Placed our piece, have we?" The question passed through Firia's head and faded into a spray of shattered ice. She had never heard its speaker's voice. Around her the sea turned to earth, burying her for one paralysing moment. This gale of memory was only getting fiercer. Firia's sight blurred in a wave of dizziness, her arms going slack.
"My life with Firia has no bearing on Zelas' decisions!" The familiar voice of Xelloss woke Firia from her stupor. Suddenly, the mazoku himself was face to face with her.
"What are you doing in here? It's all I can do to move this frozen soul...did Dynast find you?" It was Xelloss, here with her on the astral plane! "Don't let Lafitte...no, I can't-"
Xelloss vanished. The red crashed around Firia, throwing her into darkness.
* * *
"Placed our piece, have we?" Surveying the board, Dynast raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's optimistic."
Xelloss smiled humbly, his arms huddled in front of his chest. "Really? I didn't think so."
Dynast sat down across the board from Xelloss, silver eyes wandering over the priest's body. A smile slowly spread his lips as a tiny shiver overtook Xelloss. "If I recall correctly, the last time you tried this gambit it took me five hundred years to finally block you without heavy casualties."
"As always, your memory is not at a loss." Xelloss held his grin, eyes opening shyly. "It's not optimistic at all. You'll come out much farther ahead than I in the end." He winked. "With patience."
"What if I don't feel like waiting?" Dynast's gaze flicked up at Xelloss' face, freezing his opponent's smile. "It's such a long battle for such a small turnout. It would be better..." -Xelloss seized up- "...if you acted a bit more considerately towards me."
Xelloss hunched over, arms wrapped around his stomach. The cold! It was crawling into him! "It's...against the rules...to take back my turn."
Nodding his head accomodatingly, Dynast moved his hand forward, sliding a piece across the board with his fingertip. "There. Now it's your turn. Go ahead, Xelloss."
Xelloss winced. His hands were shaking uncontrollably as the knife in his back drained him of heat. It took so much strength to still his fingers, but finally he nudged his soldier down the same path it had started on.
Dynast snarled with anger and balled his hand into a fist. As the fingers curled, Xelloss cried out in pain. The fist tightened, Xelloss convulsing as the cold burned through him with a merciless intensity. He started to scream as Dynast's nails bit into his palm. Finally Dynast relented and let his hand go slack. He shook it out as he stepped around the table to Xelloss' side. The priest was shivering, his gaze very still as the shock slowly melted away. Dynast nudged the priest's face upward, wanting his full attention. "That wasn't very considerate, my servant."
"N-n-n...not..."
"Don't interrupt me." Xelloss felt his stomach turn cold as his vision swam. Dynast shook him, forcing him to focus. "Do not persist to waste my time with these pointless attempts at a struggle. I don't care about what your former mistress thought manners were. I don't want to see what ignorant depths you'll plunge to just to prove your loyalty to her. Don't show me. When I want to laugh I'll let you tell me all about your fidelity. I brought you here to serve me, and you will lose this game if I want you to."
"You'll kill me before I let you win my service." Xelloss' voice was low and even.
Dynast chuckled, fingers ruffling Xelloss' hair behind the neck. He sank to Xelloss' eye level, his lips right next to the priest's ear. "I won't torture you like this anymore, Xelloss. I'll just leave you to play the game as that knife bleeds out your will to disobey." He rubbed his fingers in circles on the back of Xelloss' neck. "I'll be more patient than you planned for. I wonder...what will be the first to go? Your sanity? Your vengeance? Or maybe it'll be your penchant for secrets." As Dynast's breath whispered against Xelloss' ear, the mazoku stopped shivering. "That would be entertaining. And after all of your soul freezes, I'll just thaw the parts I want. Doesn't that sound like fun? Unless, of course, you want to keep your soul, your personality, yourself." Dynast moved to face Xelloss. "But that would require forfeiting."
"Are you going to make your move, Dynast? I want to go soon." Xelloss smiled cheerfully. "The Slow Bastard Gambit is so much fun to play."
Dynast smirked. "Take your time. That knife may just freeze your tongue right off. I didn't want a servant with your smartass mouth anyways."
* * *
The darkness around Firia bled away in wisps of smoke until she could see clearly again. She was sprawled on a hardwood floor, where she must have landed after that maddening drop. The surroundings were much different than any she'd seen in Xelloss' astral quarters before. He always preferred something classic with a warped sense of geometry 'to keep you on your toes'. But this was quaint and homey, with nothing opulent at all...
Firia rose to her feet, stunned. This was her kitchen! Except it wasn't her kitchen...the old stove was against the wall, and she'd replaced that thing two years ago after the bottom cracked from faulty lining. And the high chair was still in the corner, even though Firia had sold it to an expecting merchant's wife when Valteria had outgrown it.
"It's just like I remember it." Firia whirled around to face the speaker behind her.
"Hello again." The man - or was it a boy? - smiled in a way that chilled Firia for some reason. He looked young - old? - and carried himself more arrogantly than royalty. As he stepped forward, Firia became aware of how alien he looked, as if some subtlety about his person just screamed out to her astral senses. His astral body even looked strange. His wavy white hair was stained with dull brown shadows and tied into a short ponytail, save for a rogue bundle of bangs on the side of his face that ran straight, long and black. His nose had a hump in it, and his smile was just...crooked.
"Hmm. So this is what fear tastes like close up." The stranger closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and slowly inhaled the air, savoring it. Firia edged to the side, never losing sight of this man/boy. Anything that could actually breathe on this plane should not be trusted.
"Oh no, honey. Not so fast." Arms wrapped around Firia from behind, grabbing her wrists. "I'm not about to let you slip away. Pretty you may be, but you still came in uninvited," the stranger whispered into her ear. "Besides, it's rude to traipse around here like you own the place, without even a nod to poor old Lafitte."
Firia managed to kill the reflex to struggle, trying to remain calm. Whatever he was, this...Lafitte...hadn't hurt her yet. He was strange, and threatening, but she couldn't just run away from him if he could appear anywhere. Maybe he could see reason.
"We're going to have fun, Firia." Lafitte nuzzled her hair, chuckling. "How much fear can you make? I want to smell more of it."
Maybe Firia could get away from him long enough to hit him with something very hard.
Firia whipped her head left and right, arms fending off monsters...children...lovers...
"Xelloss, your mind...your memories?!"
Firia grasped above her head for a rope knotted into a hangman's noose...but it gave way under her fingers, made of nothing but thought.
"Placed our piece, have we?" The question passed through Firia's head and faded into a spray of shattered ice. She had never heard its speaker's voice. Around her the sea turned to earth, burying her for one paralysing moment. This gale of memory was only getting fiercer. Firia's sight blurred in a wave of dizziness, her arms going slack.
"My life with Firia has no bearing on Zelas' decisions!" The familiar voice of Xelloss woke Firia from her stupor. Suddenly, the mazoku himself was face to face with her.
"What are you doing in here? It's all I can do to move this frozen soul...did Dynast find you?" It was Xelloss, here with her on the astral plane! "Don't let Lafitte...no, I can't-"
Xelloss vanished. The red crashed around Firia, throwing her into darkness.
* * *
"Placed our piece, have we?" Surveying the board, Dynast raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's optimistic."
Xelloss smiled humbly, his arms huddled in front of his chest. "Really? I didn't think so."
Dynast sat down across the board from Xelloss, silver eyes wandering over the priest's body. A smile slowly spread his lips as a tiny shiver overtook Xelloss. "If I recall correctly, the last time you tried this gambit it took me five hundred years to finally block you without heavy casualties."
"As always, your memory is not at a loss." Xelloss held his grin, eyes opening shyly. "It's not optimistic at all. You'll come out much farther ahead than I in the end." He winked. "With patience."
"What if I don't feel like waiting?" Dynast's gaze flicked up at Xelloss' face, freezing his opponent's smile. "It's such a long battle for such a small turnout. It would be better..." -Xelloss seized up- "...if you acted a bit more considerately towards me."
Xelloss hunched over, arms wrapped around his stomach. The cold! It was crawling into him! "It's...against the rules...to take back my turn."
Nodding his head accomodatingly, Dynast moved his hand forward, sliding a piece across the board with his fingertip. "There. Now it's your turn. Go ahead, Xelloss."
Xelloss winced. His hands were shaking uncontrollably as the knife in his back drained him of heat. It took so much strength to still his fingers, but finally he nudged his soldier down the same path it had started on.
Dynast snarled with anger and balled his hand into a fist. As the fingers curled, Xelloss cried out in pain. The fist tightened, Xelloss convulsing as the cold burned through him with a merciless intensity. He started to scream as Dynast's nails bit into his palm. Finally Dynast relented and let his hand go slack. He shook it out as he stepped around the table to Xelloss' side. The priest was shivering, his gaze very still as the shock slowly melted away. Dynast nudged the priest's face upward, wanting his full attention. "That wasn't very considerate, my servant."
"N-n-n...not..."
"Don't interrupt me." Xelloss felt his stomach turn cold as his vision swam. Dynast shook him, forcing him to focus. "Do not persist to waste my time with these pointless attempts at a struggle. I don't care about what your former mistress thought manners were. I don't want to see what ignorant depths you'll plunge to just to prove your loyalty to her. Don't show me. When I want to laugh I'll let you tell me all about your fidelity. I brought you here to serve me, and you will lose this game if I want you to."
"You'll kill me before I let you win my service." Xelloss' voice was low and even.
Dynast chuckled, fingers ruffling Xelloss' hair behind the neck. He sank to Xelloss' eye level, his lips right next to the priest's ear. "I won't torture you like this anymore, Xelloss. I'll just leave you to play the game as that knife bleeds out your will to disobey." He rubbed his fingers in circles on the back of Xelloss' neck. "I'll be more patient than you planned for. I wonder...what will be the first to go? Your sanity? Your vengeance? Or maybe it'll be your penchant for secrets." As Dynast's breath whispered against Xelloss' ear, the mazoku stopped shivering. "That would be entertaining. And after all of your soul freezes, I'll just thaw the parts I want. Doesn't that sound like fun? Unless, of course, you want to keep your soul, your personality, yourself." Dynast moved to face Xelloss. "But that would require forfeiting."
"Are you going to make your move, Dynast? I want to go soon." Xelloss smiled cheerfully. "The Slow Bastard Gambit is so much fun to play."
Dynast smirked. "Take your time. That knife may just freeze your tongue right off. I didn't want a servant with your smartass mouth anyways."
* * *
The darkness around Firia bled away in wisps of smoke until she could see clearly again. She was sprawled on a hardwood floor, where she must have landed after that maddening drop. The surroundings were much different than any she'd seen in Xelloss' astral quarters before. He always preferred something classic with a warped sense of geometry 'to keep you on your toes'. But this was quaint and homey, with nothing opulent at all...
Firia rose to her feet, stunned. This was her kitchen! Except it wasn't her kitchen...the old stove was against the wall, and she'd replaced that thing two years ago after the bottom cracked from faulty lining. And the high chair was still in the corner, even though Firia had sold it to an expecting merchant's wife when Valteria had outgrown it.
"It's just like I remember it." Firia whirled around to face the speaker behind her.
"Hello again." The man - or was it a boy? - smiled in a way that chilled Firia for some reason. He looked young - old? - and carried himself more arrogantly than royalty. As he stepped forward, Firia became aware of how alien he looked, as if some subtlety about his person just screamed out to her astral senses. His astral body even looked strange. His wavy white hair was stained with dull brown shadows and tied into a short ponytail, save for a rogue bundle of bangs on the side of his face that ran straight, long and black. His nose had a hump in it, and his smile was just...crooked.
"Hmm. So this is what fear tastes like close up." The stranger closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and slowly inhaled the air, savoring it. Firia edged to the side, never losing sight of this man/boy. Anything that could actually breathe on this plane should not be trusted.
"Oh no, honey. Not so fast." Arms wrapped around Firia from behind, grabbing her wrists. "I'm not about to let you slip away. Pretty you may be, but you still came in uninvited," the stranger whispered into her ear. "Besides, it's rude to traipse around here like you own the place, without even a nod to poor old Lafitte."
Firia managed to kill the reflex to struggle, trying to remain calm. Whatever he was, this...Lafitte...hadn't hurt her yet. He was strange, and threatening, but she couldn't just run away from him if he could appear anywhere. Maybe he could see reason.
"We're going to have fun, Firia." Lafitte nuzzled her hair, chuckling. "How much fear can you make? I want to smell more of it."
Maybe Firia could get away from him long enough to hit him with something very hard.