Disclaimer: The main character in concern belongs to SquareEnix, whilst the other belongs to me.
Author's Note: This was written some ten odd years ago for a class, back in a time when fanfiction was considered taboo. It is based off a scene in a manga on FFIV in its entirety, that after years of neglect I am revamping and hopefully, finally, finishing. By itself, the story can function as a pure one shot. However, with respect to the manga and other stuff I write as a whole, it can be considered as part of a really big AU.
The Soul of a Demon
"Sleep well, for tomorrow will be another day," he cajoled, much like how a father would to a child. Yet he, Rubicant, Fiend of Fire, was by no means a father, and neither was the female warrior lying at his feet a child, at least not physically. Standing six feet tall, the warrior could easily match his gaze eye to eye. But before the words had finished leaving his mouth, she hadalready fallen into a deep slumber, exhausted from the day's work.
Slowly he relaxed, lowering himself onto a nearby rock, sending ripples through his fiery cloak patterned with a myriad of red-orange hues. His keen, glowing eyes, which burned with the intensity of the twelve hells, wandered freely, scanning the horizon. Nothing escaped his careful scrutiny. As a fiend, he could see all the wavelengths of the light spectrum, from infra- red to ultra-violet, and thus he attempted to occupy himself for the night, or at least what was considered night in that plane of existence below the surface of the earth that never knew complete darkness. However, it was to no avail. The seemingly never-ending barren landscape of rock and lava of the plateau provided little distraction from the thoughts and desires that plagued his mind—desires unfit for a fiend. Once again, his gaze returned to the warrior at his feet that his Master had left in his custody.
He remembered clearly the meeting with his Master as if it had occurred only yesterday: "This warrior is to be your new assistant," the Master said with sarcasm, gesturing towards the figure who kneeled patiently and obediently at his feet like an animal eagerly awaiting its next command. "I have placed a mind control spell on her so that she will follow orders. You are to go to the Underground and use her to retrieve the remaining Dark Crystal from the Fire Guardian. I shall be arriving in the Underground shortly to check on your progress. Do not fail me." His voice boomed as he said those last words, and deep within the shadows of his black lacquered and horned helmet, two sparks of cold, blue-white flame ignited where eyes should have been. Those menacing blazes, the same ones that had corrupted and mesmerized the once staunch and unyielding warrior at his feet, robbing her of all conscious thought, hinted that the price of failure would be worse than any hell he had known. They left no room for questioning. No 'if's, 'and's, or 'but's, and absolutely no suggestions about what to do in the meantime once he had finished the assignment.
For some strange reason, he felt oddly attracted to this human. Never had he felt this way before, not even towards the other fiends, like the hideously skinny Valvalis, Fiend of Air, with her locks of gold wrapped seductively around her body like a scarf.
There, the warrior lay flat on the ground before him, lost in a dreamless sleep, with her hands clasped over her stomach, her face, a shade of peach, in contrast with the dove white of her semi-heat-resistant plate armor. The Master had bestowed it upon her before they left the Upperground. It fit perfectly to the contours of her body. She looked completely at peace, totally unaware of the world awaiting at the other side of her eyelids and of the threat that the brooding fire elemental posed, not that she could do much of anything even if he did make some move.
"What the heck am I to do with you?" Rubicant asked himself aloud in frustration, as he softly brushed her face with his fingers, her delicate features neatly framed by the face-guard. All he got for a response was her measured, deep breathing. Ever so slowly, the coolness of her soft, silky-smooth skin diffused through his fingers, fusing with the core of his fiery being. So this is what it is like to be 98.6 degrees, he thought in wonderment. For several more minutes, he remained in contact with her, enjoying his taste of humanity while he could, savoring all it had to offer. He could have done it while she was awake, but then he would have to face her empty eyes, deep pools of dark amber, always seemingly unfocused, containing no brilliance, no emotion, no individuality, and no life. And what if all the while he was in that compromising position, she were to suddenly regain consciousness, becoming her past self again? How would she react to her memories of him and of the horrific things he made her do?
He shivered and turned away from her as if caught off guard by a freezing wind. Angry with himself, he stalked off to one of the plateau's many craters filled with bubbling lava and fully immersed himself, hoping that a bath in the boiling liquid rock would suave his imaginary chill and rid him of all thoughts concerning her.
Although the lava thoroughly seeped into every fiber of his fiery being, he did not feel at peace. His thoughts would not leave him alone. Still, they tormented him like a swarm of gnats constantly pricking at his conscience.
Go ahead, take her! The master will never know.
How could you, an elemental, even think of having such a relationship with a human! The other fiends would never approve.
You dare to meddle with the Master's property?!
Property. That one word echoed through his mind and his mouth slowly formed it silently. "Property. Is that all she is?" he asked aloud.
Deep down, a facet of his conscience that he never knew existed responded. Yes, property. Her mind is enslaved so that she follows orders like a zombie. That makes her property... But you can put an end to it, you know.
If you do that, the Master will be angry!
Yes, angry. He will forever banish you from this dimension.
For what seemed like an eternity, and perhaps it was, he pondered his options. Finally, determined, he said, "Yes, I must do something." With great energy, he got out from his natural Jacuzzi, spilling and splashing lava over the rim. The glowing viscous liquid fell easily from his skin like water, burning pock marks in the earth where it failed to fall back in the crater. Upon returning, she still lay exactly where he had left her, peacefully asleep, ignorant of everything about her. He reached for her, his hand easily spanning her fragile neck. Yet, he hesitated before releasing the fatal burst of incendiary energy, paralyzed by the image in his mind, an image of her suddenly waking, surprised, shocked, screaming and writhing, as her head is engulfed in red-hot, merciless flames, her gauntleted hands clawing futilely at his unrelinquishing grip, her once empty eyes now pleading for him to stop, piercing into the depths of his soul, asking the question he could not, dare not, answer, Why....?
Is this what you really want? Yet, another facet of his conscious demanded as the image of a possible future faded away and he gradually returned to reality.
"No," he murmured to himself, with his head hung in shame at what he had almost done. "It is wrong to enslave such a mind, but it is a greater crime to murder someone in such a state."
Post Remarks: There you have it, unedited save for formatting, complete with cliché transitions and descriptions, an indication of what the muses were driving me to write while pressured by deadlines.
Though it is unlikely I'll rewrite this, R and R is welcome.
Flames, on the other hand, will be ignored.