Authoress's Note: Okay! Here's the long-awaited chapter! I was in a weird mood when I was writing this about two months ago, so it has a slightly humorous edge if you see it in just the right light. I actually thought this chapter was funny. : - )
The normal disclaimers apply: I don't own "Yu-Gi-Oh" or "Behind Blue Eyes." Also, if someone would care to tell me what happened in the, oh, last three episodes on TV, I was at an evil band parade (marching in the rain; ugh…) that caused me to miss it. I can't believe it is already October!
I had writer's block for a while after writing the end of Part II, but now I'm up and running again thanks to finally mapping out Part III in my head. Part III is going to be very nasty for those of us who like Pegasus.
I now present the long-awaited chapter.
"I have hours, only
lonely,
My love is vengeance
That's never free…"
- the Who
The next morning, somewhere around ten, I felt well aside from an enormous headache. I rubbed my temples and closed the drapes. Sunlight only deserved to intensify it.
Yes, I had discovered what the world "hangover" meant.
To my surprise, there was a bottle of red liquid on the table beside my bed. I held it up to the light and saw something scribbled onto paper; the paper was glued to the bottle, and the letters were slightly smeared.
"Drink this if you want to be spared tremendous pain and agony," I read aloud.
I was willing to try anything to make the headache go away. I vowed to myself that I would never, ever get drunk again – as long as I was still sane.
The bottle opened easily, and I smelled something inside it that reminded me of Midnight Blue's appearance the previous night. It tasted a lot like the rich ambrosia of his blood, but it was more subdued.
My hypothesis is that blood loses its energy gradually when it is away from a body. I know it sounds strange, but it is something I just know.
A phantom pain at my neck distracted me from the headache, and even when the pain at my neck faded, I felt nothing. It was blissful, a sort of peace, and I felt grateful to Midnight Blue even though I knew he killed Urania and I thought he might be planning to kill my beloved Cynthia.
"Don't touch her," I begged the darkness of my room. "Let her live, if only for a while. It would please me."
Did I detect a phantom tendril in my mind, a slight pressure at my temples? I thought I felt a presence in the darkened room; Cynthia was not here, as she was on the opposite side of the inn to prevent bad luck. I was not to see her before we were wed.
Of course, if you are from the civilized world you already know all of the customs that exist around weddings.
I was struck by the beauty of the place we were to be wed in. There were ribbons hanging everywhere, and beautiful organ music was playing. I recognized Lynn in the audience, my friend and confidant, and he gave me a small smile.
She floated through the back doors, dressed in white splendor, the veil over her head. I had not seen her in a day, and the sight of her made me go weak at the knees. I felt like I would faint; the light from the windows was suddenly too bright and her beauty too angelic. I locked eyes with Lynn for support, and it was as if he understood what I was going through.
I remember naught of what was said during the ceremony; her lips were on mine and it was the best feeling in the world. I can still feel the phantom kiss now, after all these years we have been apart. Yes, I am haunted by many ghosts, many shadows. Everywhere there is death, and I can't help but wonder if I am the cause of it. It goes where I go.
Perhaps Midnight Blue is doing the world a great service.
No – I can't afford to think like that now, not after all that has happened.
We slept together that night, and we had decided not to go anywhere. I was frightened, yes, but I knew that I wanted to be with her where I felt some comfort. The last thing I wanted to do was desert the friends I had.
And, in our wedding-night passion, a child was conceived.
I cannot say when she discovered this, but I think we both knew deep in our hearts that something had come into being inside her. It seems fitting that my sped-up life would see a child before we had several years of blissful loneliness. Each day I spent with her was a week, though we did not age in the accelerated way, or at least I thought that way until she was sick. But never mind that now.
I was writing about our child, the child I have unwillingly brought such horrid evil upon. No doubt is in my mind; he is somewhere nearby, and I can sometimes hear frightened yelps in my sleep. He cries out.
When she told me she was pregnant, we celebrated. I immediately called Lynn and we celebrated. Her belly swelled.
Now, the joy I felt could not sway the absolute horror I felt at the thought of a child being born. I remembered something vaguely, and it terrified me more than anything in the world. There was a faint memory in my mind of when we found a cat in the woods, and I remembered the aura I had felt when I touched her. It was a crawling feeling over my thin, slick as oil. It was the same one I felt around Cynthia now, and it scared me more than I would have liked.
With relief and fear, I prayed for the day to come when she would bring the child into the world. I sometimes saw Midnight Blue outside the window, a dreadful sneer on his face; sometimes he would whisper words inside my mind and I cried out.
As I look back on the nine strenuous months, I think it went faster than I would have liked it to go. By day I worked, and by night I would wait and sometimes fall into a troubled sleep; other times I would find it impossible and go down the road after dark and seek the company of Lynn.
On one particularly clear night, the baby came. It had recently rained, and the cool beauty of it thrilled me. Not a storm, as I had been born into, but unexplainable beauty that touched my soul and brought me a strange comfort.
Her screams and cries were the first things I heard as I returned home with Lynn; we had been at the local tavern, but we had not had enough to become drunk. Lynn was to be leaving for France in a week; the ship to England would not arrive for a few more days. It would take several more for it to be prepared for another voyage.
"I'll take a ferry across the channel from there," he told me as he drank the rose wine. "I've had enough of the colonies; besides, my Father's country will end up ruling the world!"
As we became close friends, I noticed that he can always put in a positive thing about his family. From what he has told me, I have gathered that his grandfather was Romanian. He ran to England for some reason, as I could never get the proud Lynn to tell me exactly why. He married a British woman named Catherine. Their daughter, Jen, met a depressed Frenchman and they had Lynn.
I think he ran away from home and caught a ship to the Americas.
I paced outside of our room, for the midwife would not let anyone in. Lynn was trying to force me to drink laudanum; I was actually afraid of the drug. The idea of something else controlling you, preventing you from waking…
Another scream came from the room.
"I don't want any laudanum!" I screamed.
"Brandy?"
"No."
"Wine?"
The thought was very tempting… "No."
"A chocolate drink?"
Chocolate was even more tempting than wine. "No."
"Come on, Maxam."
"No."
"Just a small glass of chocolate!"
"No."
"Then what do you want?"
"I want to pace back and forth until the child comes."
"Maxam, it's almost midnight."
"I don't care."
"You're going to pace back and forth all night?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Do you want something to keep you awake?"
"No. I can do that myself."
He sat down on the floor, resting his head against the wall. His eyes were closed. I wondered why he wasn't going home, but then again, we were really close.
Though it breaks my heart to write it, I wanted to kiss his pouting crimson lips. At first I thought it was the drinks we had shared at the tavern, but I didn't feel the influence of the alcohol. I gripped the sides of my head and shut my eyes. My back hit the wall and I felt myself sliding down. My head hurt a lot.
I felt his hand against my forehead. I didn't trust myself enough to move or open my eyes; I wondered if something was wrong with me.
"Maxam?"
"Do you remember the bachelor's party?" I slowly opened my eyes and looked into his. "Were you too drunk to remember it?"
His passionate green eyes bored into me. I felt like I would explode if I couldn't unleash my feelings. His voice broke through the silence. "I remember, Maxam."
"You're the closest I have… besides Cynthia…" and Midnight Blue, I wanted to add, but I didn't want Lynn to know.
"You're all I have…"
I feel very guilty; I cannot say the kiss was the result of anything but my emotions. It shatters me that what emotions I hold can go so far away from my teachings; I have never thought about it until now.
I awoke to the sound of a door closing. I was leaning against the wall; I felt like my blood had been drained, and it probably had. When I opened my eyes, I saw Lynn exit the room with a burlap bag. There was blood on it; it must have been the sheets. We met eyes, but I looked down, still ashamed of myself.
Brown eyes from my dream, I remembered, the color of dark chocolate. And white hair that hung in clumps. One half dark, one half light; a boy.
The pain of being bitten while the dream played before my eyes. The white-haired angel's eyes flashed Midnight's sky blue; I heard his toxic voice in my mind.
Soon…
We kissed on the cheek as I prepared to enter the room and face my son.
Cynthia was lying against the pillows, her face ashen. There was a small bundle in her arms. I was not thinking about the baby as I gazed on her; she looked very sick and exhausted; there was pain inside her eyes. I thought I smelled decay in the room.
"Your son," she said weakly.
The midwife was putting instruments in her bag.
I took the bundle in my hands and carefully lifted it. Reddish-amber eyes, tufts of black hair on his head; he didn't resemble Cynthia at all. I could see his features modeled after mine and… Midnight's. No hint of Cynthia was in the child. He looked up at me and wiggled a little.
A wild intelligence shone in his eyes. I shuddered.
Midnight laughing in my head…
Cerberus, the three-headed guard dog…
"Cerberus Maximum Pegasus."