Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don't own Gundam Wing. . . or the song,
which is Malon's Bridge by Mustard's Retreat.
Note: I'm really sorry for taking so long to update, but I've had a really hard time writing lately. Anyway, I forgot most of what this story was going to be about (being an idiot and not writing any notes to myself), but I found a new direction that works, given what I wrote in the first chapter. . .after listening to the song about 20 times, of course. In any case, enjoy!
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"The village church is strong and tall beside the river White
And there, are buried decent folk who said their prayers at night
But just across the river, there's a ring of standing stones
And there are buried hatreds older far than human bones"
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Continue:
"You can't be serious." The irate one looked at the archeologist who grinned manically and handed back the stone.
"Quite serious, I'm afraid." The man rustled through his papers as he found his place in his work once more, "There's nothing I can tell you."
Wufei looked at their unhelpful leader who quickly went back to his research. He swelled with anger and his cheeks grew red with impatience. He didn't come all the way back to be told off again. The Chinese boy clenched his fists and put even more pressure on the stone. Flinging it into J's face, he began to rant.
"Oh, for the love of Nataku!" He rolled his eyes, "I didn't come all the way here to have you tell me there was nothing to this stone. Yuy said you could help, and if he was wrong about something for once, then the world has come to an end . . ." Wufei looked back at J who was completely ignoring him. "Are you listening to me?"
"No." The archeologist said plainly, snatching the stone from Wufei's hand and whipping out a magnifying glass to study it more carefully. The black- haired one could only stare at the action, giving a glimmer of hope. "Well, you know I don't know exactly what this means, but I recognize these symbols, I've seen them before . . . " J looked up for a minute into the surprised cobalt eyes before turning back to sound out the Greek, "anthanaton kakon. Yes, that's the one. I'm sure of it."
"Athanaton kakon? (1)" Wufei raised an eyebrow, "What is that supposed to tell us? Where have you seen it before?"
"Well, it's a phrase that I've seen once before, and I always thought it was referring to a devil of some sort, but now it seems to make sense," J paused, giving the young man a moment to slip from his frustration, "Being a slayer, you know more than the average about demons, correct?" The archaeologist looked from the stone once more, in almost sarcasm as he re- stated the obvious.
Wufei nodded solemnly, nonetheless, a little less bored as the tension for the subject rose.
"Well, then you're sure to know that -true- demons are rare and dangerous. You've probably never come across any in your entire life, I would guess, and if you have, it's a miracle you've survived. However, ghosts and 'fake' demons are very common, and are the main target of a slayer such as yourself," J gestured with his right hand before sighing, "Anyway, that's not really the point. The point is you have yourself a true demon, here."
"How do you know?" Wufei asked quickly.
"These inscriptions on your stone," J looked at it a moment, "Have been used in documented past to describe some sort of . . ." The archaeologist waved his hands in attempt to find the word, " . . . devil? I don't know . . . but the ignorance of people leads me to believe it was just a very troublesome demon. However, there is still one thing I don't understand."
The archaeologist paused; looking puzzled a moment before casually glancing over his desk in search of something. Wufei watched on with impatience as the elder one took his time searching out the right book for the right reference.
"Ahaa!" J announced, pointing his finger to the start of the paragraph, and clearing his throat to read, "This is a local text, written a little over a century ago, ' . . . The village beside the river White had suffered greatly in the years of the atanaton kakon. It is said that a human was creating a cover for the demon before they were betrayed by an accomplice. . . '" J drained off the last syllable, looking at the book once more as he skimmed the next sentence with his eyes. He shook his head as he shut the book.
"So that means that this atanaton kakon was murdered, so it can't possibly be the demon we've been searching for. . . but why would these stones appear with his name?" The young man brainstormed.
"Well, that's exactly what I don't understand." J wrinkled his forehead, "And why now after all those centuries gone by?"
"What do you mean, 'you don't know'?! That's all you can say?! You don't know anything." Wufei looked once more at the stone, angered with impatience. "I don't have time to number the things I don't know, old man."
"Sometimes knowing what you don't know is even more important than knowing what you do. Your impatience will cost you one day." J hissed.
"Hmph," The slayer retorted sharply as he tied the stone back into his robes, "This was a complete waste of my time . . ." He muttered in annoyance as he turned his back on the archaeologist, who snorted a goodbye at the young man's obnoxious behavior.
And with the farewell, the frustrated slayer made his way back down the road to meet Heero where he had said, 'The village across the river White', where, of course, Heero wasn't.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Heero?" There was a light tapping noise that penetrated the darkness of his eyelids. The slayer silently shifted his weight as he sat up before opening his eyes to the light that flooded in through the window. He squinted.
"Heero?" The blond said quietly, slipping curiously through the doorway after a few small taps on the door. Seeing Heero was sitting up and awake, Quatre relaxed a little. Heero put a hand to his dizzied forehead, trying to calm the headache that was growing with his awareness. Was it just a dream? Quatre stepped closer, "I know you were up late last night, but it's nearly two in the afternoon."
Heero widened his eyes in shock before jumping out of bed. He had fallen asleep in his clothes at about 5 in the morning after his little discussion with the demon, but he was supposed to be out on the road by now!
By this time, Wufei would be long past this village and waiting for him across the bridge over the river White. Heero rushed past a startled Quatre. Who knows what Wufei could have gotten into while he was gone, and the way his week was going, he feared that trouble was ahead. Hn. Imagine that. (- - sarcasm)
Running down the stairs and into the hallway leading to the front door, the disheveled young man was in mid-swing of the tavern door when . . .
"Heero?" A voice rang out, and he turned to see Quatre who ran after him. "Where are you going?" He asked, hand slammed against the hall wall to stop him from falling, and looked out to the stoic young man who froze in his tracks, and apologetically closed the half-opened door.
"I appreciate your hospitality, but I have to be leaving. There is some business I put aside in coming here." He raised cobalt blue eyes to the flaxen-haired one who looked a little puzzled as he walked down the stairs to the door. It was odd to find anyone passing by these days with 'business' to attend to. All the visitors they usually had were traveling because their village had been destroyed by those demons that had been appearing. Needless to say, no one was pressed to be anywhere.
"You won't even. . ." Quatre paused, thinking about the morning cakes he had saved in the cellar for the special occasion that they did receive a visitor, ". . . stay for breakfast?" he asked meekly.
"Quatre?" Heero turned to face the innkeeper with a dangerously serious face, and the smaller young man looked back at his tenant with surprise.
"Yes, what is it, Heero?" He answered quickly.
"That legend. . . it wouldn't have anything to do with a demon, would it?" He asked almost rhetorically, eager to understand just what that vision was . . . dream or not, it didn't matter. A demon could enter either one.
"I believe it did, yes." The blonde answered with eyes still wide in surprise, "Why?"
"I have to speak with Trowa." Heero walked forward with hesitation, "Please."
Heero waited a moment. That word had never been easy for him to say, but it was times like these that it just came out upon instinct. Trowa had never finished telling the story the day before, and Heero would have been willing to bet anything the legend would connect to the demon who looked like a human. Whether or not this was the demon he had been looking for all these years didn't matter much. If the braided one was a demon, it was Heero's job to kill him, and prevent any future killings. With as much power as he witnessed the black-clad demon had, he must have caused the deaths of too many to count. Heero would not let anything he might have felt stop him from bringing the demon to justice. And if, indeed, the braided one was the monster he had been searching for, then all-the-better. His mission may be over sooner than he had expected.
"Trowa is out cutting more wood for the fire," Quatre told him, "Is there anything in particular you wanted to discuss with me? I would be willing to listen." Heero smiled slightly at the curious offer, but he was sure that nothing the young man had to offer would help him in the least, but he was grateful for his kindness. Grateful. . .? Heero chuckled mentally at that. He must really be in a good mood to think such things.
"How about breakfast?" Heero remembered the blonde's first offer, and the blue-green eyes brightened immediately at the notion.
"I believe I could arrange that," He smiled, waltzing off to the cellar to dig for some of those breakfast cakes he'd been anxious to eat, but never really had a celebration to eat them for. A guest was celebration enough, he had already decided.
Heero turned around to face the door, shaking his head, but still smiling in amusement. It was pretty insensitive of him to use his last resort distraction, but he needed to do something. Now that that was out of the way, he had to go find Trowa. The door was a bit heavy, and stuck to the bottom a little as Heero attempted to open it, but easily pushed it ajar and made his way out onto the stone steps in front. Listening around for the sound of a knife against wood, he followed a faint sound to his right. Coming into a clearing, he saw the taller boy kneeling next to a tree stump, on which he repeatedly placed small logs to cut them in half. Quite a pile had been accumulated, and Heero was almost afraid to distract the young man who seemed so focused on his work that the slightest disturbance might send the knife astray to cut something other than the wood.
"What do you want?" Came the sudden phrase from the normally silent boy as he set another piece of wood upon the stump and cut it down the middle. Heero jumped slightly, as he didn't know his presence had been detected. "Well?" Trowa asked almost irritably, coming up off his knees, and making an attempt to wipe off the dirt that powdered his jeans.
"I was wondering if you could tell me the legend," Heero said, in his usual, straight-forward way, and Trowa chuckled slightly. "What's so funny?" he asked, narrowing his eyes further.
"I'm afraid, Mr. Heero Yuy, that this demon is one that even a slayer is powerless against." Trowa stopped, to look at Heero's face, which had become almost entirely pale in the process.
Heero lost his breath in surprise, looking at the entirely expressionless face before him. No. Trowa couldn't know! How could he know? This entire slayers operation is supposed to be entirely secret the public. They aren't even supposed to know about demons, but the slayers have been slipping in the past couple of years, and they all knew it. Numbers had decreased tremendously. Trowa might be a slayer, Heero thought, but then why would he stay in one place? If he knows about this all-powerful demon, that both of them must have witnessed, shouldn't the rest of the slayers have been notified already so that they could stop him, together? It was almost too much information to take in.
"How do you know I'm a slayer?" Heero commanded, "No one's supposed to know about us." Trowa turned away, throwing the knife into the stump with such force from above that it stuck there, halfway in. Seeming pleased, the silent one chose to ignore the question.
"That demon. . ." he reminisced, turning and pausing his speech briefly to face the peeved Heero again, "I'm assuming he showed himself to you if he let you live," all Heero did to that was narrow his eyes further, but Trowa seemed content with this response as well, "He wants you to stay here. If you attempt to leave, now, he'll have to kill you. And don't think for a moment that you can best him. No one can. It's a terrible power he wields."
Heero, at this point was able to control his patience, but he was still annoyed at the taller young man for making him seem like a fool.
"That doesn't tell me anything. Are you a slayer or aren't you?" Heero demanded.
"I used to be." He announced plainly, looking away. Everything changed when he came across this village. He knew there was something about it that no one, not even a slayer, could escape from, even by death, if the demon wished it so. That is what kept both him and Quatre from going outside this small village. It was a prison, though someone from the outside might not see it. Even Quatre hadn't realized it, yet. Now at least they would have some company. . . but what he could never understand is why the demon chose them, of all people who have passed through the town.
"You are, then." Heero said after a moment's silence, "So what makes you think no one can best this demon?"
"You don't get it, do you?" Trowa stated as a fact, "You're a prisoner, now that you've spent a night here. We all are. No one has made it past the bridge in years. You should just accept it. I could get Quatre to give you a job at the restaurant so you won't draw any suspicion. Just. . ." Trowa paused and bit his lip, ". . . don't say anything to Quatre. He doesn't know; it would only cause him pain, and he's happy here."
Heero just stared at the young man who, insane as it sounded, seemed dead serious, and suddenly he understood, and burst into a cloud of anger. This couldn't be true. He'd never heard of anything like this ever happening, but at that moment, he started to understand entirely what Trowa had been telling him. He'd heard of such force-fields that were created by demons of immense power. . . usually so that the demon would be able to drain their life energy after enough energies had been caught in the web. That Trowa and Quatre had been living here for years gave him some assurance that no harm was meant for them . . . but then why then why in the world were they there?
They . . . had something to remember . . . Heero narrowed his eyes, searching through the depths of his memory. There was absolutely nothing he could remember about anything to do with the demon, except that he had destroyed a hell of a lot of decoys to make it this far. That still didn't explain anything.
"A prisoner. . . of that demon?" he clenched his teeth, "Is there no other way? Can't we tell anyone about this? They could help us escape." Heero said out of desperation.
"That was something, and I've tried, but everyone just passed me off as a nutcase or a drunkard, and neither Quatre nor I have any relations that would or could help us." The long-banged one shrugged, "Besides, even if -you- do, the demon will know, and will most probably make sure they never make it here."
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"Damn, I'm late!" Wufei ran down the path, pushing the folds of his long, dark cape to one side as the wind blew it uncomfortably to one side. The sky was growing dark faster than usual, and he hadn't expected the wind to be so forceful. J had made him really late, and Wufei knew he would be the one to catch hell from Yuy later. What was even worse, though, was that the scientist hadn't told him a single thing about the stone, even though Wufei was fairly sure it was sent by the demon they had been searching for all this time, even if it wasn't the real anataton kakon, who had been dead for centuries.
It was then that Wufei heard a rustling in the woods beside him, and he quickly stopped to unsheathe his katana, not wanting to be caught off guard. Looking around himself nervously, he stopped to look at the sky on the far horizon. It was sundown. He swore silently. Demons lined the path to the river White after sundown, and it would only delay his meeting with Heero.
Sensing the demon presence behind him, the slayer turned his eyes to look over his shoulder sharply to find a rather gruesome decoy in the air, but within seconds his sword left it's attack stance to a swift, but lengthy jab through the mirage, at which point it disappeared upon impact. It only took Wufei a moment afterwards to realize that he was surrounded.
He narrowed his eyes slightly in fear watered by pure determination. Decoy demons, although not truly of the demonic race, aren't a joke either. Up against a normal person, there is no doubt which would triumph, which is why the slayers are so important. Wufei had never been up against this many before, and he hoped he'd never have to be, but there was no turning back, now. If measured, the power of all the monsters combined might have been equal to almost half the power of the one true demon that was sure to have created them.
As the demons closed in on Wufei, he felt his sword slipping from his fingers with the wetness that separated them, but he wiped his hand quickly on the dark cloth that surrounded him, and dove for the first demons that caught his eye, taking two out in one blow, while another two emerged from the forest to join the mob.
Issuing the first blow, a dark blue ghostly demon ran its claws down Wufei's arm. The slayer yelled in frustration and in pain as he destroyed the demon that had injured him. Clasping his right shoulder with his left arm, he kept swinging, unable to do anything else at the moment, but for every blow he wasted, another demon entered the crowd.
"Damn. . ." the young Chinese man hissed as the demons continued to strike his injured arm. He knew that he couldn't win this battle without this arm, but he continued to hold the sword, despite the pain it took to carry it. "Yuy . . ." he hissed in desperation as the sword was cut in two, both pieces flying from his hands as he was thrown to the ground. Picking up the nearest sword shard, he gripped it tighter, blind to the pain that came with it, "This is all . . .!" he screamed, attacking the closest demon, ". . . your fault!"
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Heero stepped swiftly onto the dirt road without glancing back and looked to the woods from which Wufei should have come from. The slayer thought briefly how it would be best to go about telling his companion about his situation with the demon that they were supposed to destroy. It gave him shivers up his spine just thinking about the way the empty hand had touched his cheek as a gust of wind picked-up off the side of the river White. It felt just like that, cold and airy, as if a numbing cold had all the sudden been cast and melted from his entire body from his cheek down. Heero clenched his fist in frustration. Why did he think of such things? Surely it was the demon that made this memory haunt him . . . and yet there was something that he was supposed to remember. He couldn't shake it from his mind no matter how hard he tried. He was a prisoner of both worlds, mind and body. Heero narrowed his eyes; the demon would pay for this.
"They won't come," Trowa descended the front steps with ease, as Heero jumped in surprise. When there was no response, Trowa continued, "Whoever you've been waiting for," he paused, getting a dangerous look from the other end, "They won't come."
Upon the silence of the receiving end, Trowa decided it was an opportune moment to continue, "I talked to Quatre, and he said that you could run the bar, because it's been a little much for him lately, and he doesn't like alcohol, anyway."
"What if I don't like alcohol?" Heero asked, almost rhetorically.
"You don't have to stay here," Trowa returned the coldness, turning his back on the slayer, "You can sleep in the woods for all I care."
"I'll go across the river White," Heero announced finally. Trowa stopped walking, but refused to turn around.
"You'd be an idiot," the emotion was void in his voice, "You'd never make it across alive."
"You never told me the rest of the legend." Heero told him, finally having caught his attention, and that caused Trowa to finally turn around. The tall boy had been inside with Quatre helping with the restaurant all day while Heero tried to find a way out of the demon's prison, against Trowa's advice. He'd found that he could not exit within approximately a mile radius from the inn, as Trowa had told him earlier. It was simply . . . impossible, as if a glass wall was built around the entire place, but according to Trowa, if he could pass over the bridge, the spell would be broken. However, he hadn't heard the entire story just yet.
"The legend is not for you to know. It wouldn't change the facts. It would only make you angrier about our present situation," Trowa's footwork threatened walking away.
"I thought we were going to get out of here!" Heero objected.
"I'm perfectly happy here," Trowa answered, unmoved by the young man's protest, "It's late, and it's cold. You should come inside. You haven't eaten."
Heero, standing firmly on the ground where he first was planted, made no notion to follow the other's advice. Trowa shrugged lightly as if to say 'suit yourself' and walked away without any regrets.
Looking across, the river wasn't as deep as it was wide. In fact, it wasn't a very impressive river at all, Heero decided, peering over the edge of the entrance to the stone bridge. It had an ancient feel to it, and the edges at the bottom were worn away by water enough that he'd have guessed it was finished near a century ago. He couldn't see very far across the river, to the cemetery Trowa had told him was there. It was too foggy to see anything, really, except the shadows of stones that almost seemed to walk across the fog on the other side. They were gravestones, arranged in a circle, Heero strained to see, but there was something different about them.
Besides from the eerie feeling that gathered into him from every side of the village and the wind that picked up off the water, swallowing him whole, there was still something else. Something that felt like a forced evil, a power wielded by hatred and fed on whispers of revenge inside that ring of standing stones.
"You want to try and escape?" The demon whispered, and Heero felt the cold breath on his ear, turning around in fear he took a step backwards, only to find that he had stepped onto the bridge. "Don't be afraid," The black-clad demon smiled seductively, "I can help."
"Who are you?" Heero asked as he had on their first meeting, regaining his composure as he stepped toward the demon, not that he needed to, really. The demon was making more advances then he could really handle at the moment.
"Yeah," The demon made his way behind Heero somehow and took a perch on the bridge railing, "I didn't really expect anybody to remember me, anyway . . ." He waved his hand nonchalantly before taking his braid from behind and fiddling with the loose ends.
Heero was a little angered that the demon refused to answer his questions directly, but he'd be getting that a lot lately so he decided he couldn't to let his anger cloud his judgment in the questions that he asked, so he turned his thoughts to something that should have been the first question he asked.
"Where's Wufei?" Heero asked angrily. The demon, who had been staring at him with amusement as well as pleasure for the past minutes, sighed in defeat.
"Well, he's not here, now, is he?" The demon noted tactfully, choosing to avoid the subject at hand. Upon seeing the anger this response instigated, he sighed in defeat, "I don't know, probably dead by now."
"Why. . ." Heero hissed before he raised his voice, "Why would you want him dead?!" Heero screamed at the demon, and the words cut like a knife. It wasn't the words themselves, though. The demon stepped backwards, still looking into Heero's angry eyes as his own softened until he looked ready to cry. The pain on his face shone clearly as he lifted his left hand into the air and made a ceasing gesture, though it meant nothing to Heero.
"That's. . ." The demon sat down, looking at his hands with guilt, ". . . all I can do, for now."
A look of pain crossed the demon's face at the look of hatred on Heero's face softened. The demon, it seemed, had cancelled all attacks that he assumed had been made on his partner. This didn't make any sense. Why would the demon send them out if he was only going to stop them? This was behavior that no slayer expected from any demon, but on the other hand, Heero had never met any demon quite as powerful, so he supposed that it was normal for this one to be different, and he was thankful for the demon's sudden kindness, but. . . he was just very confused.
"Why. . .?" Heero asked, almost as if upon instinct, and the demon looked up from his hands to Heero's eyes, and seeing that his actions had not gone unseen, he let out a little smile that was much purer than the smirk he had on before.
"I. . ." he stood, still smiling, "I'm sorry, it's just. . ." the demon trailed of as he descended to the ground, his braid hovering a second before he reached the ground and began to walk forward until he was right at Heero's side. "I can get a little carried away, when don't get what I want."
As the demon kept walking, Heero thought if he should ask him what he wanted, and turned around after a few seconds of thought, opening his mouth to speak, but the braided demon was nowhere to be found. Heero looked around in all directions that the demon could have gone, but it was no use. Demons of his power had the ability to disappear. He had seen it the night before, 'so why not now?' Heero asked himself sarcastically, as he gritted his teeth for about the fourth time that day.
Kicking a stone, frustrated by his helplessness, into the water of the river White, Heero promised himself. Tomorrow, he promised, tomorrow I'll cross this bridge, and then they'll see. Hands stuck in the pockets of his cloak, Heero headed down the path back to the inn. Looking up to the door, he winced. He really didn't want to face Trowa right, now. The woods would be a much better choice, he decided easily. So, with that thought in mind, he found the clearing where he'd found Trowa . . . or rather Trowa had found him in earlier, and sat down to lean on a tree near the edge of the clearing.
Watching the stump near the middle of the clearing, (making no noticeable movement, as could be predicted), Heero's eyes easily closed. Nodding off to sleep, one thing he didn't notice was the black figure that smiled at him from a distance and wished him goodnight.
*********** yay! Umm . . . there is one footnote! ^^;; **********
(1) 'athanaton kakon' is actually a real Greek phrase, not just a weird- sounding something that I might have made up off the top of my head. Not that I know Greek or anything, but I came across this phrase in something I was reading, and it means 'eternal evil'. I thought it sounded cool, and it kind of works, so I thought I'd use it. I hope no one minds.
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Thanks so much for reading!! ^_^
And special thanks to Emily Hato, Annie Maxwell, lora-helen, Hakumei, and Akasha-the-vampire for reviewing and encouraging me to write more! I really appreciate it, and I feel really bad that I couldn't get this out earlier. I'm really sorry, but thank you all, it means so much!! I'll try not to take so long with the next one!!
Note: I'm really sorry for taking so long to update, but I've had a really hard time writing lately. Anyway, I forgot most of what this story was going to be about (being an idiot and not writing any notes to myself), but I found a new direction that works, given what I wrote in the first chapter. . .after listening to the song about 20 times, of course. In any case, enjoy!
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"The village church is strong and tall beside the river White
And there, are buried decent folk who said their prayers at night
But just across the river, there's a ring of standing stones
And there are buried hatreds older far than human bones"
***********************************************
Continue:
"You can't be serious." The irate one looked at the archeologist who grinned manically and handed back the stone.
"Quite serious, I'm afraid." The man rustled through his papers as he found his place in his work once more, "There's nothing I can tell you."
Wufei looked at their unhelpful leader who quickly went back to his research. He swelled with anger and his cheeks grew red with impatience. He didn't come all the way back to be told off again. The Chinese boy clenched his fists and put even more pressure on the stone. Flinging it into J's face, he began to rant.
"Oh, for the love of Nataku!" He rolled his eyes, "I didn't come all the way here to have you tell me there was nothing to this stone. Yuy said you could help, and if he was wrong about something for once, then the world has come to an end . . ." Wufei looked back at J who was completely ignoring him. "Are you listening to me?"
"No." The archeologist said plainly, snatching the stone from Wufei's hand and whipping out a magnifying glass to study it more carefully. The black- haired one could only stare at the action, giving a glimmer of hope. "Well, you know I don't know exactly what this means, but I recognize these symbols, I've seen them before . . . " J looked up for a minute into the surprised cobalt eyes before turning back to sound out the Greek, "anthanaton kakon. Yes, that's the one. I'm sure of it."
"Athanaton kakon? (1)" Wufei raised an eyebrow, "What is that supposed to tell us? Where have you seen it before?"
"Well, it's a phrase that I've seen once before, and I always thought it was referring to a devil of some sort, but now it seems to make sense," J paused, giving the young man a moment to slip from his frustration, "Being a slayer, you know more than the average about demons, correct?" The archaeologist looked from the stone once more, in almost sarcasm as he re- stated the obvious.
Wufei nodded solemnly, nonetheless, a little less bored as the tension for the subject rose.
"Well, then you're sure to know that -true- demons are rare and dangerous. You've probably never come across any in your entire life, I would guess, and if you have, it's a miracle you've survived. However, ghosts and 'fake' demons are very common, and are the main target of a slayer such as yourself," J gestured with his right hand before sighing, "Anyway, that's not really the point. The point is you have yourself a true demon, here."
"How do you know?" Wufei asked quickly.
"These inscriptions on your stone," J looked at it a moment, "Have been used in documented past to describe some sort of . . ." The archaeologist waved his hands in attempt to find the word, " . . . devil? I don't know . . . but the ignorance of people leads me to believe it was just a very troublesome demon. However, there is still one thing I don't understand."
The archaeologist paused; looking puzzled a moment before casually glancing over his desk in search of something. Wufei watched on with impatience as the elder one took his time searching out the right book for the right reference.
"Ahaa!" J announced, pointing his finger to the start of the paragraph, and clearing his throat to read, "This is a local text, written a little over a century ago, ' . . . The village beside the river White had suffered greatly in the years of the atanaton kakon. It is said that a human was creating a cover for the demon before they were betrayed by an accomplice. . . '" J drained off the last syllable, looking at the book once more as he skimmed the next sentence with his eyes. He shook his head as he shut the book.
"So that means that this atanaton kakon was murdered, so it can't possibly be the demon we've been searching for. . . but why would these stones appear with his name?" The young man brainstormed.
"Well, that's exactly what I don't understand." J wrinkled his forehead, "And why now after all those centuries gone by?"
"What do you mean, 'you don't know'?! That's all you can say?! You don't know anything." Wufei looked once more at the stone, angered with impatience. "I don't have time to number the things I don't know, old man."
"Sometimes knowing what you don't know is even more important than knowing what you do. Your impatience will cost you one day." J hissed.
"Hmph," The slayer retorted sharply as he tied the stone back into his robes, "This was a complete waste of my time . . ." He muttered in annoyance as he turned his back on the archaeologist, who snorted a goodbye at the young man's obnoxious behavior.
And with the farewell, the frustrated slayer made his way back down the road to meet Heero where he had said, 'The village across the river White', where, of course, Heero wasn't.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Heero?" There was a light tapping noise that penetrated the darkness of his eyelids. The slayer silently shifted his weight as he sat up before opening his eyes to the light that flooded in through the window. He squinted.
"Heero?" The blond said quietly, slipping curiously through the doorway after a few small taps on the door. Seeing Heero was sitting up and awake, Quatre relaxed a little. Heero put a hand to his dizzied forehead, trying to calm the headache that was growing with his awareness. Was it just a dream? Quatre stepped closer, "I know you were up late last night, but it's nearly two in the afternoon."
Heero widened his eyes in shock before jumping out of bed. He had fallen asleep in his clothes at about 5 in the morning after his little discussion with the demon, but he was supposed to be out on the road by now!
By this time, Wufei would be long past this village and waiting for him across the bridge over the river White. Heero rushed past a startled Quatre. Who knows what Wufei could have gotten into while he was gone, and the way his week was going, he feared that trouble was ahead. Hn. Imagine that. (- - sarcasm)
Running down the stairs and into the hallway leading to the front door, the disheveled young man was in mid-swing of the tavern door when . . .
"Heero?" A voice rang out, and he turned to see Quatre who ran after him. "Where are you going?" He asked, hand slammed against the hall wall to stop him from falling, and looked out to the stoic young man who froze in his tracks, and apologetically closed the half-opened door.
"I appreciate your hospitality, but I have to be leaving. There is some business I put aside in coming here." He raised cobalt blue eyes to the flaxen-haired one who looked a little puzzled as he walked down the stairs to the door. It was odd to find anyone passing by these days with 'business' to attend to. All the visitors they usually had were traveling because their village had been destroyed by those demons that had been appearing. Needless to say, no one was pressed to be anywhere.
"You won't even. . ." Quatre paused, thinking about the morning cakes he had saved in the cellar for the special occasion that they did receive a visitor, ". . . stay for breakfast?" he asked meekly.
"Quatre?" Heero turned to face the innkeeper with a dangerously serious face, and the smaller young man looked back at his tenant with surprise.
"Yes, what is it, Heero?" He answered quickly.
"That legend. . . it wouldn't have anything to do with a demon, would it?" He asked almost rhetorically, eager to understand just what that vision was . . . dream or not, it didn't matter. A demon could enter either one.
"I believe it did, yes." The blonde answered with eyes still wide in surprise, "Why?"
"I have to speak with Trowa." Heero walked forward with hesitation, "Please."
Heero waited a moment. That word had never been easy for him to say, but it was times like these that it just came out upon instinct. Trowa had never finished telling the story the day before, and Heero would have been willing to bet anything the legend would connect to the demon who looked like a human. Whether or not this was the demon he had been looking for all these years didn't matter much. If the braided one was a demon, it was Heero's job to kill him, and prevent any future killings. With as much power as he witnessed the black-clad demon had, he must have caused the deaths of too many to count. Heero would not let anything he might have felt stop him from bringing the demon to justice. And if, indeed, the braided one was the monster he had been searching for, then all-the-better. His mission may be over sooner than he had expected.
"Trowa is out cutting more wood for the fire," Quatre told him, "Is there anything in particular you wanted to discuss with me? I would be willing to listen." Heero smiled slightly at the curious offer, but he was sure that nothing the young man had to offer would help him in the least, but he was grateful for his kindness. Grateful. . .? Heero chuckled mentally at that. He must really be in a good mood to think such things.
"How about breakfast?" Heero remembered the blonde's first offer, and the blue-green eyes brightened immediately at the notion.
"I believe I could arrange that," He smiled, waltzing off to the cellar to dig for some of those breakfast cakes he'd been anxious to eat, but never really had a celebration to eat them for. A guest was celebration enough, he had already decided.
Heero turned around to face the door, shaking his head, but still smiling in amusement. It was pretty insensitive of him to use his last resort distraction, but he needed to do something. Now that that was out of the way, he had to go find Trowa. The door was a bit heavy, and stuck to the bottom a little as Heero attempted to open it, but easily pushed it ajar and made his way out onto the stone steps in front. Listening around for the sound of a knife against wood, he followed a faint sound to his right. Coming into a clearing, he saw the taller boy kneeling next to a tree stump, on which he repeatedly placed small logs to cut them in half. Quite a pile had been accumulated, and Heero was almost afraid to distract the young man who seemed so focused on his work that the slightest disturbance might send the knife astray to cut something other than the wood.
"What do you want?" Came the sudden phrase from the normally silent boy as he set another piece of wood upon the stump and cut it down the middle. Heero jumped slightly, as he didn't know his presence had been detected. "Well?" Trowa asked almost irritably, coming up off his knees, and making an attempt to wipe off the dirt that powdered his jeans.
"I was wondering if you could tell me the legend," Heero said, in his usual, straight-forward way, and Trowa chuckled slightly. "What's so funny?" he asked, narrowing his eyes further.
"I'm afraid, Mr. Heero Yuy, that this demon is one that even a slayer is powerless against." Trowa stopped, to look at Heero's face, which had become almost entirely pale in the process.
Heero lost his breath in surprise, looking at the entirely expressionless face before him. No. Trowa couldn't know! How could he know? This entire slayers operation is supposed to be entirely secret the public. They aren't even supposed to know about demons, but the slayers have been slipping in the past couple of years, and they all knew it. Numbers had decreased tremendously. Trowa might be a slayer, Heero thought, but then why would he stay in one place? If he knows about this all-powerful demon, that both of them must have witnessed, shouldn't the rest of the slayers have been notified already so that they could stop him, together? It was almost too much information to take in.
"How do you know I'm a slayer?" Heero commanded, "No one's supposed to know about us." Trowa turned away, throwing the knife into the stump with such force from above that it stuck there, halfway in. Seeming pleased, the silent one chose to ignore the question.
"That demon. . ." he reminisced, turning and pausing his speech briefly to face the peeved Heero again, "I'm assuming he showed himself to you if he let you live," all Heero did to that was narrow his eyes further, but Trowa seemed content with this response as well, "He wants you to stay here. If you attempt to leave, now, he'll have to kill you. And don't think for a moment that you can best him. No one can. It's a terrible power he wields."
Heero, at this point was able to control his patience, but he was still annoyed at the taller young man for making him seem like a fool.
"That doesn't tell me anything. Are you a slayer or aren't you?" Heero demanded.
"I used to be." He announced plainly, looking away. Everything changed when he came across this village. He knew there was something about it that no one, not even a slayer, could escape from, even by death, if the demon wished it so. That is what kept both him and Quatre from going outside this small village. It was a prison, though someone from the outside might not see it. Even Quatre hadn't realized it, yet. Now at least they would have some company. . . but what he could never understand is why the demon chose them, of all people who have passed through the town.
"You are, then." Heero said after a moment's silence, "So what makes you think no one can best this demon?"
"You don't get it, do you?" Trowa stated as a fact, "You're a prisoner, now that you've spent a night here. We all are. No one has made it past the bridge in years. You should just accept it. I could get Quatre to give you a job at the restaurant so you won't draw any suspicion. Just. . ." Trowa paused and bit his lip, ". . . don't say anything to Quatre. He doesn't know; it would only cause him pain, and he's happy here."
Heero just stared at the young man who, insane as it sounded, seemed dead serious, and suddenly he understood, and burst into a cloud of anger. This couldn't be true. He'd never heard of anything like this ever happening, but at that moment, he started to understand entirely what Trowa had been telling him. He'd heard of such force-fields that were created by demons of immense power. . . usually so that the demon would be able to drain their life energy after enough energies had been caught in the web. That Trowa and Quatre had been living here for years gave him some assurance that no harm was meant for them . . . but then why then why in the world were they there?
They . . . had something to remember . . . Heero narrowed his eyes, searching through the depths of his memory. There was absolutely nothing he could remember about anything to do with the demon, except that he had destroyed a hell of a lot of decoys to make it this far. That still didn't explain anything.
"A prisoner. . . of that demon?" he clenched his teeth, "Is there no other way? Can't we tell anyone about this? They could help us escape." Heero said out of desperation.
"That was something, and I've tried, but everyone just passed me off as a nutcase or a drunkard, and neither Quatre nor I have any relations that would or could help us." The long-banged one shrugged, "Besides, even if -you- do, the demon will know, and will most probably make sure they never make it here."
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"Damn, I'm late!" Wufei ran down the path, pushing the folds of his long, dark cape to one side as the wind blew it uncomfortably to one side. The sky was growing dark faster than usual, and he hadn't expected the wind to be so forceful. J had made him really late, and Wufei knew he would be the one to catch hell from Yuy later. What was even worse, though, was that the scientist hadn't told him a single thing about the stone, even though Wufei was fairly sure it was sent by the demon they had been searching for all this time, even if it wasn't the real anataton kakon, who had been dead for centuries.
It was then that Wufei heard a rustling in the woods beside him, and he quickly stopped to unsheathe his katana, not wanting to be caught off guard. Looking around himself nervously, he stopped to look at the sky on the far horizon. It was sundown. He swore silently. Demons lined the path to the river White after sundown, and it would only delay his meeting with Heero.
Sensing the demon presence behind him, the slayer turned his eyes to look over his shoulder sharply to find a rather gruesome decoy in the air, but within seconds his sword left it's attack stance to a swift, but lengthy jab through the mirage, at which point it disappeared upon impact. It only took Wufei a moment afterwards to realize that he was surrounded.
He narrowed his eyes slightly in fear watered by pure determination. Decoy demons, although not truly of the demonic race, aren't a joke either. Up against a normal person, there is no doubt which would triumph, which is why the slayers are so important. Wufei had never been up against this many before, and he hoped he'd never have to be, but there was no turning back, now. If measured, the power of all the monsters combined might have been equal to almost half the power of the one true demon that was sure to have created them.
As the demons closed in on Wufei, he felt his sword slipping from his fingers with the wetness that separated them, but he wiped his hand quickly on the dark cloth that surrounded him, and dove for the first demons that caught his eye, taking two out in one blow, while another two emerged from the forest to join the mob.
Issuing the first blow, a dark blue ghostly demon ran its claws down Wufei's arm. The slayer yelled in frustration and in pain as he destroyed the demon that had injured him. Clasping his right shoulder with his left arm, he kept swinging, unable to do anything else at the moment, but for every blow he wasted, another demon entered the crowd.
"Damn. . ." the young Chinese man hissed as the demons continued to strike his injured arm. He knew that he couldn't win this battle without this arm, but he continued to hold the sword, despite the pain it took to carry it. "Yuy . . ." he hissed in desperation as the sword was cut in two, both pieces flying from his hands as he was thrown to the ground. Picking up the nearest sword shard, he gripped it tighter, blind to the pain that came with it, "This is all . . .!" he screamed, attacking the closest demon, ". . . your fault!"
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Heero stepped swiftly onto the dirt road without glancing back and looked to the woods from which Wufei should have come from. The slayer thought briefly how it would be best to go about telling his companion about his situation with the demon that they were supposed to destroy. It gave him shivers up his spine just thinking about the way the empty hand had touched his cheek as a gust of wind picked-up off the side of the river White. It felt just like that, cold and airy, as if a numbing cold had all the sudden been cast and melted from his entire body from his cheek down. Heero clenched his fist in frustration. Why did he think of such things? Surely it was the demon that made this memory haunt him . . . and yet there was something that he was supposed to remember. He couldn't shake it from his mind no matter how hard he tried. He was a prisoner of both worlds, mind and body. Heero narrowed his eyes; the demon would pay for this.
"They won't come," Trowa descended the front steps with ease, as Heero jumped in surprise. When there was no response, Trowa continued, "Whoever you've been waiting for," he paused, getting a dangerous look from the other end, "They won't come."
Upon the silence of the receiving end, Trowa decided it was an opportune moment to continue, "I talked to Quatre, and he said that you could run the bar, because it's been a little much for him lately, and he doesn't like alcohol, anyway."
"What if I don't like alcohol?" Heero asked, almost rhetorically.
"You don't have to stay here," Trowa returned the coldness, turning his back on the slayer, "You can sleep in the woods for all I care."
"I'll go across the river White," Heero announced finally. Trowa stopped walking, but refused to turn around.
"You'd be an idiot," the emotion was void in his voice, "You'd never make it across alive."
"You never told me the rest of the legend." Heero told him, finally having caught his attention, and that caused Trowa to finally turn around. The tall boy had been inside with Quatre helping with the restaurant all day while Heero tried to find a way out of the demon's prison, against Trowa's advice. He'd found that he could not exit within approximately a mile radius from the inn, as Trowa had told him earlier. It was simply . . . impossible, as if a glass wall was built around the entire place, but according to Trowa, if he could pass over the bridge, the spell would be broken. However, he hadn't heard the entire story just yet.
"The legend is not for you to know. It wouldn't change the facts. It would only make you angrier about our present situation," Trowa's footwork threatened walking away.
"I thought we were going to get out of here!" Heero objected.
"I'm perfectly happy here," Trowa answered, unmoved by the young man's protest, "It's late, and it's cold. You should come inside. You haven't eaten."
Heero, standing firmly on the ground where he first was planted, made no notion to follow the other's advice. Trowa shrugged lightly as if to say 'suit yourself' and walked away without any regrets.
Looking across, the river wasn't as deep as it was wide. In fact, it wasn't a very impressive river at all, Heero decided, peering over the edge of the entrance to the stone bridge. It had an ancient feel to it, and the edges at the bottom were worn away by water enough that he'd have guessed it was finished near a century ago. He couldn't see very far across the river, to the cemetery Trowa had told him was there. It was too foggy to see anything, really, except the shadows of stones that almost seemed to walk across the fog on the other side. They were gravestones, arranged in a circle, Heero strained to see, but there was something different about them.
Besides from the eerie feeling that gathered into him from every side of the village and the wind that picked up off the water, swallowing him whole, there was still something else. Something that felt like a forced evil, a power wielded by hatred and fed on whispers of revenge inside that ring of standing stones.
"You want to try and escape?" The demon whispered, and Heero felt the cold breath on his ear, turning around in fear he took a step backwards, only to find that he had stepped onto the bridge. "Don't be afraid," The black-clad demon smiled seductively, "I can help."
"Who are you?" Heero asked as he had on their first meeting, regaining his composure as he stepped toward the demon, not that he needed to, really. The demon was making more advances then he could really handle at the moment.
"Yeah," The demon made his way behind Heero somehow and took a perch on the bridge railing, "I didn't really expect anybody to remember me, anyway . . ." He waved his hand nonchalantly before taking his braid from behind and fiddling with the loose ends.
Heero was a little angered that the demon refused to answer his questions directly, but he'd be getting that a lot lately so he decided he couldn't to let his anger cloud his judgment in the questions that he asked, so he turned his thoughts to something that should have been the first question he asked.
"Where's Wufei?" Heero asked angrily. The demon, who had been staring at him with amusement as well as pleasure for the past minutes, sighed in defeat.
"Well, he's not here, now, is he?" The demon noted tactfully, choosing to avoid the subject at hand. Upon seeing the anger this response instigated, he sighed in defeat, "I don't know, probably dead by now."
"Why. . ." Heero hissed before he raised his voice, "Why would you want him dead?!" Heero screamed at the demon, and the words cut like a knife. It wasn't the words themselves, though. The demon stepped backwards, still looking into Heero's angry eyes as his own softened until he looked ready to cry. The pain on his face shone clearly as he lifted his left hand into the air and made a ceasing gesture, though it meant nothing to Heero.
"That's. . ." The demon sat down, looking at his hands with guilt, ". . . all I can do, for now."
A look of pain crossed the demon's face at the look of hatred on Heero's face softened. The demon, it seemed, had cancelled all attacks that he assumed had been made on his partner. This didn't make any sense. Why would the demon send them out if he was only going to stop them? This was behavior that no slayer expected from any demon, but on the other hand, Heero had never met any demon quite as powerful, so he supposed that it was normal for this one to be different, and he was thankful for the demon's sudden kindness, but. . . he was just very confused.
"Why. . .?" Heero asked, almost as if upon instinct, and the demon looked up from his hands to Heero's eyes, and seeing that his actions had not gone unseen, he let out a little smile that was much purer than the smirk he had on before.
"I. . ." he stood, still smiling, "I'm sorry, it's just. . ." the demon trailed of as he descended to the ground, his braid hovering a second before he reached the ground and began to walk forward until he was right at Heero's side. "I can get a little carried away, when don't get what I want."
As the demon kept walking, Heero thought if he should ask him what he wanted, and turned around after a few seconds of thought, opening his mouth to speak, but the braided demon was nowhere to be found. Heero looked around in all directions that the demon could have gone, but it was no use. Demons of his power had the ability to disappear. He had seen it the night before, 'so why not now?' Heero asked himself sarcastically, as he gritted his teeth for about the fourth time that day.
Kicking a stone, frustrated by his helplessness, into the water of the river White, Heero promised himself. Tomorrow, he promised, tomorrow I'll cross this bridge, and then they'll see. Hands stuck in the pockets of his cloak, Heero headed down the path back to the inn. Looking up to the door, he winced. He really didn't want to face Trowa right, now. The woods would be a much better choice, he decided easily. So, with that thought in mind, he found the clearing where he'd found Trowa . . . or rather Trowa had found him in earlier, and sat down to lean on a tree near the edge of the clearing.
Watching the stump near the middle of the clearing, (making no noticeable movement, as could be predicted), Heero's eyes easily closed. Nodding off to sleep, one thing he didn't notice was the black figure that smiled at him from a distance and wished him goodnight.
*********** yay! Umm . . . there is one footnote! ^^;; **********
(1) 'athanaton kakon' is actually a real Greek phrase, not just a weird- sounding something that I might have made up off the top of my head. Not that I know Greek or anything, but I came across this phrase in something I was reading, and it means 'eternal evil'. I thought it sounded cool, and it kind of works, so I thought I'd use it. I hope no one minds.
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Thanks so much for reading!! ^_^
And special thanks to Emily Hato, Annie Maxwell, lora-helen, Hakumei, and Akasha-the-vampire for reviewing and encouraging me to write more! I really appreciate it, and I feel really bad that I couldn't get this out earlier. I'm really sorry, but thank you all, it means so much!! I'll try not to take so long with the next one!!
