Disclaimer: Anyone who thinks that any of this dialogue belongs to me
should beware of major spoilers for Slayers: NEXT. Anyone who thinks that
any of these characters belong to me is clearly new to the idea of
fanfiction. Anyone who reviews gets love. It might stretch as far as
homemade banana bread (dangle, dangle. Heeere, fishies...)
Author chat: If anyone's interested, my Xellos Pairing Flag should be up on the fanart page of my site by, oh, August 9th-ish. Review responses below, and bonus points to anyone who tags Milgazia's quote.
-------------------------------------
Kowai Kare Da
part two of three
by Nightfall
-------------------------------------
Things it's good to know:
1. Lina stood up -through- the Sword of Light once, and Gourry threw it to Phil at one point without a flicker of anxiety. He also never uses it on humans; he uses the steel blade, which is also what he used on the gang's pet black dragon in the first episode. I have formed a working hypothesis that it's a weapon against evil and doesn't work on other things, and I operate on that basis. I also assume that people who were around during the Kouma Sensou would probably recognize it.
2. Milgazia may have access to the knowledge and wisdom of the Flare Dragon, but he's out of the current events loop and doesn't know Rezo is dead.
3. The medical term of the white of the eye is 'vitreous humor.'
4: Translations! Courtesy of www. freedict. com/onldict /jap .html.
Kowai: 'frightening' or 'eerie'.
Kare: 'he' or 'boyfriend.'
-------------------------------------
It was a long walk in something impressively close to grim silence as they mused on the spectacle, as Xel had smirked once, of a twenty-meter mustard- colored reptile shrinking into a very minor six-foot sex-deity in robes not even a dumb animal would be caught dead in--oh, right, fine, Miru, prove me wrong, -only- a dumb animal then--ow!
Of course, there was that hushed conversation between the boy Gourry and Mini-Softballs (her name didn't suit her) about where his clothes went. Blue Thing (who looked hauntingly familiar in a short and pebbly kind of way, and whose name was much too long to bother with) glared them down quickly though, before turning his icy, jealous stare back between Mil's shoulderblades.
It was nice to have someone envy him. It had been so long since he'd had that feeling that he'd even stopped missing it. Knowing the reason would have made it better, though. He didn't think it had to do with Xellos, who strolled placidly behind them all as though he expected nothing more of their destination than a cup of hot cocoa.
The real question, the stomach-knotting, migraine-inducingly worrying question was, as always, what was going on over that bland little curve in the monster's head. He'd outright asked before, somewhat optimistically. Surprisingly, he'd gotten information, if not an actual answer, and it was enough information to know that although Xellos was finished giving freebies, Milgazia was cordially invited to find out whatever he could on his own.
He was going to have to start asking questions--and soon. He could access the Bible from any point on the mountain, but that didn't make his time unlimited. If he didn't have any answers by the time they reached the pinnacle, if they had to start going down again, his potential sources were going to get suspicious. He was going to have start the conversation himself, soon, but if he was the first one to talk, it was going to look terrible, so--
"Ne, Milgazia-san," Fashion Victim interrupted his increasingly frantic train of thought. "Is the place with the Claire Bible very far?"
Opening!
"Not far. We soon will be upon it. If I may, human maiden?" She made a noise--less than graceful, but inviting and gratifyingly prompt. At least -someone- was intimidated by him. "It has not escaped you that Xellos is mazoku, and of them all a most grievous schemer. For what reason do you cooperate with his purpose, which is like to be a fell one?"
Behind him, he could practically hear purple eyebrows clanging together in annoyance, the serene smile winching a notch tighter. Less than subtle maneuvering always drove Xel crazy, especially from someone he expected more of.
"Well," she said slowly. Instead of laughing the threat off as he'd expected, she spoke with a troubled gravity that was reassuring. This wasn't a girl who was out for adventure. She understood the magnitude of what she faced, which might even mean she knew what she was doing. "So far, I don't see any other choices for us. Of course, I know Hellmaster doesn't wish for peace on earth and goodwill towards men--and maybe the guys trying to kill me are even doing the right thing. But I don't know the reasons for it. I can't just roll over and die for somebody else's reasons. I wasn't brought up that way."
He didn't look at her. It was enough: he understood. Her value couldn't have been any clearer spelled out with illustrations. He wondered whether Xellos had, over the years, trapped in an orderly Order as he was now, sponsored other loose cannons with enough ties to darkness to let him get away with it, or whether he would fight for this girl like a stage mother. The latter, he hoped. She was likeable, in a headachy sort of way.
If he embarrassed Xellos by telling her any of that, he'd be wolf chow.
"In this you have nothing of which to be ashamed," he said instead, since her inability to blindly play martyr to demons was clearly weighing on her. "It is a natural thing. Breathing is a difficult habit to break.""
The intensity of his undead friend's closed eyes between his shoulders keyed up a suspicious notch. He was debating the relative evils of foredoomed battles, missed opportunities, and the inevitably forfeit rags of his dignity should he pursue that line of bedevilment when Brawny gasped, a sound like epiphany, and drew all their eyes.
"I just realized," he gushed. "I've been thinking--about the Kouma Sensou. It happened a long time ago, right?"
Xellos blew out a loud gust of air, just to get Mil back for that breathing jab. Mil kept his stern face on, and entertained himself by watching the little twitches under cool skin as Xellos counted historic landmarks in his head. "I believe it ended a thousand and twelve years ago, to be precise. Why do you ask?"
Needle, needle. Maybe it was just a nasty tease, or maybe Xellos wanted to know whether referring to the massacre would push his buttons. It didn't. By the time the Master Beast had eliminated the dragons' victorious Purification Legion, Milgazia had been sick to death of the whole business. Any end had been welcome. At least he had, by then, learned better than to say so. He could only hope that Xellos saw more indifference than self- control in his lack of significant expression, and could see how much he didn't care.
A long muscle bunched in the strapping young jaw. "Xellos, you..." Brawny began fiercely, and paused. Xellos warily shifted his grip on the abomination that was his staff.
Then Brawny's grim intensity shattered into a sunny, careless smile that spiked Mil's heart with bitter, acid nostalgia. He hadn't seen a smile like that on an adult in centuries. "You're a really, -really- old man," the boy laughed, "aren't you?"
Xellos missed a step out of sheer disbelief and crashed to one knee, and Mil could only stare. Blue Thing demanded to know where -that- had come from, Brawny burbled--quite rightly--about how good Xellos was looking for a man his age, and Milgazia was frozen.
He got it. The boy knew what Xellos was, knew what it meant, and he didn't care.
It wasn't just Fashion Victim--Lina--who Xellos had adopted. It was all of them, even Mini-Softballs with her enormous, bright, crackling aura of white magic. And this boy Gourry, with his clear eyes, who understood the truth of things so well he didn't bother naming them, who could see past the dark void of a monster's missing heart to his intentions. The little shrine maiden was an innocent and could be twisted, but the boy couldn't. The boy would never willingly serve an evil purpose, no matter what stories the master manipulator told, because the pretty, persuasive words wouldn't stick in his head. He would see beyond them.
The mysterious priest had returned to the service of chaos.
"Er, yes," the mysterious priest said weakly, as Brawny had himself a hearty chortle. "It's too kind of you. Really."
Mil had to laugh himself. It was too good, too good. A thousand years of bright cruelty and Xellos dogged Rezo's steps like the proverbial kicked puppy, mucking up his good deeds and tripping him with mischief. But let the world need saving, and it wasn't His Virtuous Benevolence he came to but the scale-faced, lizard-brained black sheep of the Golds. Rezo might be the beloved one, but when the sparks hit the wire, it was Milgazia who was trusted.
"You are no typical humans," he smiled, and it hurt his face. "I see now," he said and although he was talking to them, he looked straight through her to Xellos. "If you are involved, we need not fear the plans of monsters."
"Milgazia-san," Lina breathed, delighted without understanding, and that was all.
Behind her, Xellos had placid-calm face on over a massive seethe. The way people reacted to dragons--'delighted without understanding' described it fairly well--had always driven him up a wall, and seeing the girl who was clearly his star pupil doing it probably would have done dangerous things to his blood pressure if he'd still had any. It had taken Mil years to convince him that the instant charisma effect wasn't something that anyone did on purpose, the more so since it had taken Xel years to convince -him- that the instant adulation effect wasn't anyone's rightful due.
It was generally a good idea not to piss off high-level mazoku. Mil was going to have to do something spectacularly un-Ryu right now. Which was probably a good idea anyway; the pheromone-induced hero-worship in her lovely crimson eyes demanded an answer.
"Try to see the truth with only your own eyes to guide you, human maiden," he smiled down into them. "And when you find a belief, follow it through with all that you are. That is how to fulfill a dream."
There. Lofty and vague enough to make her glow up at him (and what a pity that she'd come while still clearly underage; she was a pretty little thing under the Lookit Me I'm Poisonous coloration of her clothing), but an independent-minded enough philosophy that Xellos stopped sulking. It felt good to be out of the doghouse with -somebody.- Blue Thing was still eyeing him suspiciously, but he was starting to get the feeling that a glare from Blue Thing was neither personal nor unusual.
He sighed in pure satisfaction. Perhaps his life was pathetic, if the mere lack of disapproval could feel this good. It did, though. "Shall we go?"
The children all gaped at him and started looking around at the rocks and sky. Fashion-Victim, rather like a burbling infant or an overexcited puppy, demanded, "You mean it's here? The Claire Bible is here? Where is it?"
"This way," he said simply, and strolled over to casually put his hand through the mountain. The children's astonishment was well worth the unimpressed lines of Xellos's back and shoulders. Since Xel's attitude towards him had always been a sort of affectionate despair anyway, he didn't worry about it. "The path to the Claire Bible is here. You may walk without difficulty through this semblance of a cliff. Follow, Lina. As for the rest of you, you must remain here to wait."
"Oi," Blue Thing said uneasily. "Why just Lina?"
It was good to see that the suspicious one had some loyalty, but he wasn't going to spend the journey there with ice eyes lodged in his spine. Besides, Xellos hadn't bargained to come, and he was neither bringing a demon into the mountain nor leaving him unsupervised if he had any kind of choice. "Oh, you may enter," he said sweetly, his lowered brows telling a different story. "It is merely that, should you encounter difficulty. I will not assist you. The mountain holds an endless labyrinth, and I alone hold the map and key."
The girl made a choked noise and stepped back, realizing what she was getting into. He couldn't help but smile a little, especially when Xellos settled back on his ethereal heels in annoyance, as though to say 'if you're going to rub it in, at least cut the gadzookery.'
The smirk pulled his lips wider in satisfaction, and he added a little salt. "Without knowing the way, either a mazoku or a dragon could spend their lives searching for a way back."
"Yes, yes," Xellos agreed earnestly, spreading a palm out. "Exactly so."
It was a familiar tone, the one that came at the end of the morning after a visit, when Mil would grudgingly become aware of the time and the length of the flight he had in front of him. It was a 'how nice it was to see you and surely you have things to do so please go away now' voice. Usually it had meant Xel wanted some alone time with Rezo before they, too, had to go back to their respective temples. It sounded more pressing this time.
Mil frowned. A moment ago, Xellos had been all patience.
The children weren't picking up on the urgency, though. Gourry sounded only ordinarily concerned when he agreed to wait, and so did Blue Thing when he told her to be careful. Mini-Softballs, although she spoke with intensity, grinned optimistically when she shook her fist and decreed, "Please bring us back a souvenir!"
"Like there's going to be any?!" Lina sputtered.
"So! Let us go then, you and I," he quoted brightly, and had the double pleasure of seeing Xellos wrinkle his nose cute little perky nose in disgust and the girl stagger towards him with wide eyes like iron filing to a magnet. Her face went determined, and she reached to take his outstretched hand--the one that wasn't shimmering through rock.
In the moment before she took it, something shivered.
Mil jerked, his Astral senses tingling, and looked up in time to see Xellos catch it, too. Oh, he knew that expression, that 'what have we here look,' sweet eyes mild with curiosity in a sharp, set face, the dizzy ripple of golden power as Xel reached, just to be prepared--but it was a black and filthy power now, and this wasn't Xel.
Only Xellos, and no time for either.
No time at all, just red lights behind the girl in a pattern like snowflakes, and then an explosion where the mazoku had been only a moment ago. Milgazia wasn't worried, though, not about him. He'd had plenty of time to duck out. And if the scarlet lights meant anything--and they ought to--then this was one of the Chaos-Dragon's minions. Xellos should be able to out-think it while standing on his head.
Mil shielded his eyes against the dust from the explosion to peer at where the lights had been--until the girl stood up. Strange that a girl so small could block his view. It was impressively wild hair. "Seigram," she gasped.
The thing took shape in front of them all, a faceless figure wrapped in a hooded black cloak, with a glowing red light where an eye might have been, and just the hint of something unsavory beside it. Its arms were mummified darkness, and strange designs suggesting digestive organs sprawled over its chest. "I won't let you go," it proclaimed triumphantly. "You will die here!" Between its hands a red eye grew, pupilless and glowing in luminous, phlegm-colored vitrium that brightened until it really was almost white.
Mil recoiled in surprise as a dozen fiery spheres flung themselves at the mountain. Not them, the mountain. Was even Maryu-ou so abysmally stupid as to try and destroy the Bible? Without doing -research- first? This was pointless!
But while he was gaping, Mini-Softballs had erected a barrier around them and Blue Thing had drawn his sword and activated a not-very-effective-for- this-kind-of-combat enchantment on it. They stood bravely, preparing to fend off the brainless intestinal thing.
I don't need this, he thought. I don't need this, I don't, I really, really don't need this today! Profoundly annoyed, he opened his mouth and roared, letting a sheet of laser breath rip out towards the flying mazoku. How dare it try to destroy any kind of a library? And the sheer incompetence of its method was worthy of death all by itself!
The damned thing ducked.
Not only enraged but annoyed, he sucked in another breath to try again, but there was a shiver behind him. Cold hands lighted on his hips, and a soft, low voice in his ear breathed, "Focus, Miru-kun."
In the next moment, Xellos had shimmered away again, and reappeared above them in a circle of black and moss-green. "Your opponent," he scolded the other mazoku in a loud, surprised, what-did-you-think voice, "is going to be me, of course." Without looking back, he said in a more normal tone, "Lina-san, why don't you leave this to me--and get moving!"
And then they started fighting much too fast to see. But Lina just sat there, trying to track them anyway.
Focused as instructed, vexed beyond endurance, and feeling so much better that he was seriously tempted to horrify them all by bursting into song, Mil leaned down and grabbed her arm, his other arm still encased in the illusion of stone. "Hurry!" he said, feeling his mouth stretch in strange ways around the war between a scowl and a grin, "Once we pass over the barrier, even a mazoku will find tracking us no easy task."
"But--" Lina began, casting a troubled gaze at the sky.
How sweet that she was concerned for her teacher.
He tugged at her insistently, and she sighed, obviously still worried. She got up, though, and let him pull her through. It was a real pity that crossing the barrier was so much like slogging through a waterfall of molasses; he wanted in -now.- There was something very, very dark and very large approaching. Xellos could deal with his own problems. Mil had a job to do, thank you very much, and he was cracking well scampering.
-------------------------------------
In the battle between the adorable little beta wolf and the mummified intestinal cyclops monster, who will win? Oh, the excitement is nerve- wracking! The tension is unbearable! Oh, wait--Fuzzy's got his picture in the eyecatches at commercial break? Never mind, then.
-------------------------------------
Review Responses!
Stara Maijika: I'm glad you're enjoying Milgazia--I enjoy him myself. There's somethiing really attractive about a character who's so clearly holding back, isn't there? It gives a writer so much –scope.-
Sapphirefly: If that's the only thing you can think of, then I'll take it as a compliment. ;-) In fact, I agree with you. Sadly, the one drawback of a POV piece is you have to stay in the character's head. Milgazia strikes me as many things, but lyrical isn't one of them. You should stay tuned for the rest or the arc, though (blatant plug? Me?); -Xellos- is lyrical as all get out (grins).
Fancy: well! Call me sleek and purring. :-) I'll outrage my Xelmuse and sell you secrets for your outrageous flattery. 1-This short thing is neither the Xellos origin story nor the Rezo piece. 2-There will be one.
Author chat: If anyone's interested, my Xellos Pairing Flag should be up on the fanart page of my site by, oh, August 9th-ish. Review responses below, and bonus points to anyone who tags Milgazia's quote.
-------------------------------------
Kowai Kare Da
part two of three
by Nightfall
-------------------------------------
Things it's good to know:
1. Lina stood up -through- the Sword of Light once, and Gourry threw it to Phil at one point without a flicker of anxiety. He also never uses it on humans; he uses the steel blade, which is also what he used on the gang's pet black dragon in the first episode. I have formed a working hypothesis that it's a weapon against evil and doesn't work on other things, and I operate on that basis. I also assume that people who were around during the Kouma Sensou would probably recognize it.
2. Milgazia may have access to the knowledge and wisdom of the Flare Dragon, but he's out of the current events loop and doesn't know Rezo is dead.
3. The medical term of the white of the eye is 'vitreous humor.'
4: Translations! Courtesy of www. freedict. com/onldict /jap .html.
Kowai: 'frightening' or 'eerie'.
Kare: 'he' or 'boyfriend.'
-------------------------------------
It was a long walk in something impressively close to grim silence as they mused on the spectacle, as Xel had smirked once, of a twenty-meter mustard- colored reptile shrinking into a very minor six-foot sex-deity in robes not even a dumb animal would be caught dead in--oh, right, fine, Miru, prove me wrong, -only- a dumb animal then--ow!
Of course, there was that hushed conversation between the boy Gourry and Mini-Softballs (her name didn't suit her) about where his clothes went. Blue Thing (who looked hauntingly familiar in a short and pebbly kind of way, and whose name was much too long to bother with) glared them down quickly though, before turning his icy, jealous stare back between Mil's shoulderblades.
It was nice to have someone envy him. It had been so long since he'd had that feeling that he'd even stopped missing it. Knowing the reason would have made it better, though. He didn't think it had to do with Xellos, who strolled placidly behind them all as though he expected nothing more of their destination than a cup of hot cocoa.
The real question, the stomach-knotting, migraine-inducingly worrying question was, as always, what was going on over that bland little curve in the monster's head. He'd outright asked before, somewhat optimistically. Surprisingly, he'd gotten information, if not an actual answer, and it was enough information to know that although Xellos was finished giving freebies, Milgazia was cordially invited to find out whatever he could on his own.
He was going to have to start asking questions--and soon. He could access the Bible from any point on the mountain, but that didn't make his time unlimited. If he didn't have any answers by the time they reached the pinnacle, if they had to start going down again, his potential sources were going to get suspicious. He was going to have start the conversation himself, soon, but if he was the first one to talk, it was going to look terrible, so--
"Ne, Milgazia-san," Fashion Victim interrupted his increasingly frantic train of thought. "Is the place with the Claire Bible very far?"
Opening!
"Not far. We soon will be upon it. If I may, human maiden?" She made a noise--less than graceful, but inviting and gratifyingly prompt. At least -someone- was intimidated by him. "It has not escaped you that Xellos is mazoku, and of them all a most grievous schemer. For what reason do you cooperate with his purpose, which is like to be a fell one?"
Behind him, he could practically hear purple eyebrows clanging together in annoyance, the serene smile winching a notch tighter. Less than subtle maneuvering always drove Xel crazy, especially from someone he expected more of.
"Well," she said slowly. Instead of laughing the threat off as he'd expected, she spoke with a troubled gravity that was reassuring. This wasn't a girl who was out for adventure. She understood the magnitude of what she faced, which might even mean she knew what she was doing. "So far, I don't see any other choices for us. Of course, I know Hellmaster doesn't wish for peace on earth and goodwill towards men--and maybe the guys trying to kill me are even doing the right thing. But I don't know the reasons for it. I can't just roll over and die for somebody else's reasons. I wasn't brought up that way."
He didn't look at her. It was enough: he understood. Her value couldn't have been any clearer spelled out with illustrations. He wondered whether Xellos had, over the years, trapped in an orderly Order as he was now, sponsored other loose cannons with enough ties to darkness to let him get away with it, or whether he would fight for this girl like a stage mother. The latter, he hoped. She was likeable, in a headachy sort of way.
If he embarrassed Xellos by telling her any of that, he'd be wolf chow.
"In this you have nothing of which to be ashamed," he said instead, since her inability to blindly play martyr to demons was clearly weighing on her. "It is a natural thing. Breathing is a difficult habit to break.""
The intensity of his undead friend's closed eyes between his shoulders keyed up a suspicious notch. He was debating the relative evils of foredoomed battles, missed opportunities, and the inevitably forfeit rags of his dignity should he pursue that line of bedevilment when Brawny gasped, a sound like epiphany, and drew all their eyes.
"I just realized," he gushed. "I've been thinking--about the Kouma Sensou. It happened a long time ago, right?"
Xellos blew out a loud gust of air, just to get Mil back for that breathing jab. Mil kept his stern face on, and entertained himself by watching the little twitches under cool skin as Xellos counted historic landmarks in his head. "I believe it ended a thousand and twelve years ago, to be precise. Why do you ask?"
Needle, needle. Maybe it was just a nasty tease, or maybe Xellos wanted to know whether referring to the massacre would push his buttons. It didn't. By the time the Master Beast had eliminated the dragons' victorious Purification Legion, Milgazia had been sick to death of the whole business. Any end had been welcome. At least he had, by then, learned better than to say so. He could only hope that Xellos saw more indifference than self- control in his lack of significant expression, and could see how much he didn't care.
A long muscle bunched in the strapping young jaw. "Xellos, you..." Brawny began fiercely, and paused. Xellos warily shifted his grip on the abomination that was his staff.
Then Brawny's grim intensity shattered into a sunny, careless smile that spiked Mil's heart with bitter, acid nostalgia. He hadn't seen a smile like that on an adult in centuries. "You're a really, -really- old man," the boy laughed, "aren't you?"
Xellos missed a step out of sheer disbelief and crashed to one knee, and Mil could only stare. Blue Thing demanded to know where -that- had come from, Brawny burbled--quite rightly--about how good Xellos was looking for a man his age, and Milgazia was frozen.
He got it. The boy knew what Xellos was, knew what it meant, and he didn't care.
It wasn't just Fashion Victim--Lina--who Xellos had adopted. It was all of them, even Mini-Softballs with her enormous, bright, crackling aura of white magic. And this boy Gourry, with his clear eyes, who understood the truth of things so well he didn't bother naming them, who could see past the dark void of a monster's missing heart to his intentions. The little shrine maiden was an innocent and could be twisted, but the boy couldn't. The boy would never willingly serve an evil purpose, no matter what stories the master manipulator told, because the pretty, persuasive words wouldn't stick in his head. He would see beyond them.
The mysterious priest had returned to the service of chaos.
"Er, yes," the mysterious priest said weakly, as Brawny had himself a hearty chortle. "It's too kind of you. Really."
Mil had to laugh himself. It was too good, too good. A thousand years of bright cruelty and Xellos dogged Rezo's steps like the proverbial kicked puppy, mucking up his good deeds and tripping him with mischief. But let the world need saving, and it wasn't His Virtuous Benevolence he came to but the scale-faced, lizard-brained black sheep of the Golds. Rezo might be the beloved one, but when the sparks hit the wire, it was Milgazia who was trusted.
"You are no typical humans," he smiled, and it hurt his face. "I see now," he said and although he was talking to them, he looked straight through her to Xellos. "If you are involved, we need not fear the plans of monsters."
"Milgazia-san," Lina breathed, delighted without understanding, and that was all.
Behind her, Xellos had placid-calm face on over a massive seethe. The way people reacted to dragons--'delighted without understanding' described it fairly well--had always driven him up a wall, and seeing the girl who was clearly his star pupil doing it probably would have done dangerous things to his blood pressure if he'd still had any. It had taken Mil years to convince him that the instant charisma effect wasn't something that anyone did on purpose, the more so since it had taken Xel years to convince -him- that the instant adulation effect wasn't anyone's rightful due.
It was generally a good idea not to piss off high-level mazoku. Mil was going to have to do something spectacularly un-Ryu right now. Which was probably a good idea anyway; the pheromone-induced hero-worship in her lovely crimson eyes demanded an answer.
"Try to see the truth with only your own eyes to guide you, human maiden," he smiled down into them. "And when you find a belief, follow it through with all that you are. That is how to fulfill a dream."
There. Lofty and vague enough to make her glow up at him (and what a pity that she'd come while still clearly underage; she was a pretty little thing under the Lookit Me I'm Poisonous coloration of her clothing), but an independent-minded enough philosophy that Xellos stopped sulking. It felt good to be out of the doghouse with -somebody.- Blue Thing was still eyeing him suspiciously, but he was starting to get the feeling that a glare from Blue Thing was neither personal nor unusual.
He sighed in pure satisfaction. Perhaps his life was pathetic, if the mere lack of disapproval could feel this good. It did, though. "Shall we go?"
The children all gaped at him and started looking around at the rocks and sky. Fashion-Victim, rather like a burbling infant or an overexcited puppy, demanded, "You mean it's here? The Claire Bible is here? Where is it?"
"This way," he said simply, and strolled over to casually put his hand through the mountain. The children's astonishment was well worth the unimpressed lines of Xellos's back and shoulders. Since Xel's attitude towards him had always been a sort of affectionate despair anyway, he didn't worry about it. "The path to the Claire Bible is here. You may walk without difficulty through this semblance of a cliff. Follow, Lina. As for the rest of you, you must remain here to wait."
"Oi," Blue Thing said uneasily. "Why just Lina?"
It was good to see that the suspicious one had some loyalty, but he wasn't going to spend the journey there with ice eyes lodged in his spine. Besides, Xellos hadn't bargained to come, and he was neither bringing a demon into the mountain nor leaving him unsupervised if he had any kind of choice. "Oh, you may enter," he said sweetly, his lowered brows telling a different story. "It is merely that, should you encounter difficulty. I will not assist you. The mountain holds an endless labyrinth, and I alone hold the map and key."
The girl made a choked noise and stepped back, realizing what she was getting into. He couldn't help but smile a little, especially when Xellos settled back on his ethereal heels in annoyance, as though to say 'if you're going to rub it in, at least cut the gadzookery.'
The smirk pulled his lips wider in satisfaction, and he added a little salt. "Without knowing the way, either a mazoku or a dragon could spend their lives searching for a way back."
"Yes, yes," Xellos agreed earnestly, spreading a palm out. "Exactly so."
It was a familiar tone, the one that came at the end of the morning after a visit, when Mil would grudgingly become aware of the time and the length of the flight he had in front of him. It was a 'how nice it was to see you and surely you have things to do so please go away now' voice. Usually it had meant Xel wanted some alone time with Rezo before they, too, had to go back to their respective temples. It sounded more pressing this time.
Mil frowned. A moment ago, Xellos had been all patience.
The children weren't picking up on the urgency, though. Gourry sounded only ordinarily concerned when he agreed to wait, and so did Blue Thing when he told her to be careful. Mini-Softballs, although she spoke with intensity, grinned optimistically when she shook her fist and decreed, "Please bring us back a souvenir!"
"Like there's going to be any?!" Lina sputtered.
"So! Let us go then, you and I," he quoted brightly, and had the double pleasure of seeing Xellos wrinkle his nose cute little perky nose in disgust and the girl stagger towards him with wide eyes like iron filing to a magnet. Her face went determined, and she reached to take his outstretched hand--the one that wasn't shimmering through rock.
In the moment before she took it, something shivered.
Mil jerked, his Astral senses tingling, and looked up in time to see Xellos catch it, too. Oh, he knew that expression, that 'what have we here look,' sweet eyes mild with curiosity in a sharp, set face, the dizzy ripple of golden power as Xel reached, just to be prepared--but it was a black and filthy power now, and this wasn't Xel.
Only Xellos, and no time for either.
No time at all, just red lights behind the girl in a pattern like snowflakes, and then an explosion where the mazoku had been only a moment ago. Milgazia wasn't worried, though, not about him. He'd had plenty of time to duck out. And if the scarlet lights meant anything--and they ought to--then this was one of the Chaos-Dragon's minions. Xellos should be able to out-think it while standing on his head.
Mil shielded his eyes against the dust from the explosion to peer at where the lights had been--until the girl stood up. Strange that a girl so small could block his view. It was impressively wild hair. "Seigram," she gasped.
The thing took shape in front of them all, a faceless figure wrapped in a hooded black cloak, with a glowing red light where an eye might have been, and just the hint of something unsavory beside it. Its arms were mummified darkness, and strange designs suggesting digestive organs sprawled over its chest. "I won't let you go," it proclaimed triumphantly. "You will die here!" Between its hands a red eye grew, pupilless and glowing in luminous, phlegm-colored vitrium that brightened until it really was almost white.
Mil recoiled in surprise as a dozen fiery spheres flung themselves at the mountain. Not them, the mountain. Was even Maryu-ou so abysmally stupid as to try and destroy the Bible? Without doing -research- first? This was pointless!
But while he was gaping, Mini-Softballs had erected a barrier around them and Blue Thing had drawn his sword and activated a not-very-effective-for- this-kind-of-combat enchantment on it. They stood bravely, preparing to fend off the brainless intestinal thing.
I don't need this, he thought. I don't need this, I don't, I really, really don't need this today! Profoundly annoyed, he opened his mouth and roared, letting a sheet of laser breath rip out towards the flying mazoku. How dare it try to destroy any kind of a library? And the sheer incompetence of its method was worthy of death all by itself!
The damned thing ducked.
Not only enraged but annoyed, he sucked in another breath to try again, but there was a shiver behind him. Cold hands lighted on his hips, and a soft, low voice in his ear breathed, "Focus, Miru-kun."
In the next moment, Xellos had shimmered away again, and reappeared above them in a circle of black and moss-green. "Your opponent," he scolded the other mazoku in a loud, surprised, what-did-you-think voice, "is going to be me, of course." Without looking back, he said in a more normal tone, "Lina-san, why don't you leave this to me--and get moving!"
And then they started fighting much too fast to see. But Lina just sat there, trying to track them anyway.
Focused as instructed, vexed beyond endurance, and feeling so much better that he was seriously tempted to horrify them all by bursting into song, Mil leaned down and grabbed her arm, his other arm still encased in the illusion of stone. "Hurry!" he said, feeling his mouth stretch in strange ways around the war between a scowl and a grin, "Once we pass over the barrier, even a mazoku will find tracking us no easy task."
"But--" Lina began, casting a troubled gaze at the sky.
How sweet that she was concerned for her teacher.
He tugged at her insistently, and she sighed, obviously still worried. She got up, though, and let him pull her through. It was a real pity that crossing the barrier was so much like slogging through a waterfall of molasses; he wanted in -now.- There was something very, very dark and very large approaching. Xellos could deal with his own problems. Mil had a job to do, thank you very much, and he was cracking well scampering.
-------------------------------------
In the battle between the adorable little beta wolf and the mummified intestinal cyclops monster, who will win? Oh, the excitement is nerve- wracking! The tension is unbearable! Oh, wait--Fuzzy's got his picture in the eyecatches at commercial break? Never mind, then.
-------------------------------------
Review Responses!
Stara Maijika: I'm glad you're enjoying Milgazia--I enjoy him myself. There's somethiing really attractive about a character who's so clearly holding back, isn't there? It gives a writer so much –scope.-
Sapphirefly: If that's the only thing you can think of, then I'll take it as a compliment. ;-) In fact, I agree with you. Sadly, the one drawback of a POV piece is you have to stay in the character's head. Milgazia strikes me as many things, but lyrical isn't one of them. You should stay tuned for the rest or the arc, though (blatant plug? Me?); -Xellos- is lyrical as all get out (grins).
Fancy: well! Call me sleek and purring. :-) I'll outrage my Xelmuse and sell you secrets for your outrageous flattery. 1-This short thing is neither the Xellos origin story nor the Rezo piece. 2-There will be one.