Chapter Four
The Tale...of Sir Xellos
(Or a mix-up of Mazoku)

Xellos frowned quietly to himself.

Normally this could be considered something to fear; the only times he lost that smile were when he was planning to do something hideously painful...oh wait, never mind, that's when he opens his eyes. He frowns a bit more often, but usually in genuine thought.

Anyway, at the moment he was trying to resolve an age old question.

Just how much weight can a swallow carry? Specifically, could a five-ounce bird carry a one-pound coconut?

(Confidentially, he didn't really care. However, he'd heard rumors about Lina being driven crazy by the question (he liked to keep tabs on his favorite meals). He just wanted to see that adorable little vein in her forehead start twitching when she found him).

Still, it was more a distraction as he waited for a delicious little bit of trickery to reach fruition.

"WE'VE FOUND A MAZOKU, MAY WE BURN IT!"

Forcing himself not to start grinning wasn't easy. Still, he managed a vaguely solemn air as he turned to face the superstitious and relatively stupid villagers. "How do you know it's one of the monster race?"

"He looks like one!"

If only you knew. Shrugging he gestured with his staff. "Bring him forward." The trickster priest turned to a scaffolding to lounge as they dragged a cage into the village square.

Zelgadis glared tiredly at him from within. "You know, I didn't expect to find you here, Metallium." He sighed. "I just wish I could say I'm all that surprised."

Fighting the grin was simply too hard; a delighted smile crossed his face. "YOU'RE the alleged mazoku?"

"You know damn well I'm not a monster."

"Certainly look like one."

"Oh shut up; you know that I don't have horns. Or fur. Or a dragon's tail. Or flapping cardboard wings. Or...well, most of this junk on me."

Xellos nodded thoughtfully. "I wasn't going to ask; I just thought that you'd lost what little was left of your fashion sense."

Zelgadis winced. Coming from Xellos, that hurt. "Oh, and just for the record, this isn't my nose; it's a false one."

"I was wondering what that was supposed to be; I thought maybe some urchin child was trying to feed the monster." He turned to the villagers. "Well?"

They shifted nervously. "Well we did do the nose."

"The nose?"

"...and the hat. But he's still a monster!"

(SCREAMS of assent).

Xellos raised his staff for quiet. It took a while. "Did you dress him in all that?"

"No!" "no! no!" "Yes." "Yes, a bit. He has got a wart!"

Zelgadis considered just blasting his way out, but thought against it; he shuddered to imagine the spin that Xellos could put on something like that. "They're not warts you idiots, they're gravel!" He paused. "...you know, I don't really think that helped my case."

Xellos privately agreed. Still, there was more lunacy to milk from this. "What makes you think that he is a monster?"

"What, he turned me into a newt!"

"Oh? Finally making some progress in the field of transfiguration?"

"He means recently; I've only been in the village for a few hours."

Xellos sighed. That could have gone so well. "A newt?"

The villager in question shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "...I got better."

"...BURN HIM ANYWAY!"

Xellos again raised his staff. "Quiet, quiet! There are WAYS of telling whether or not he's a monster."

(cheers and requests for edification.)

"Tell me. What do you do with Mazoku?"

"BURN THEM!"

Xellos nodded sagely. The fact that they lacked flammable material bodies seemed a moot point, really. "And what do you burn apart from mazoku?"

"MORE MAZOKU!" screamed one.

The rest of the villagers just thumped him.

"Wood!" called out one of the more intelligent (his IQ was around 80).

Xellos nodded. "So, why do Mazoku burn?"

This brought them up short. You could almost HEAR the synapses misfiring as they pondered it. Why precisely some of them were chewing on their scythes and pruning bills and such was something to consider later.

Finally, the one who'd claimed to be a newt asked, "Because they're made of wood?"

"Goooood!" Xellos's pleased smile brought quite a few blushes. As for the trickster priest? There were a thousand times he'd pigeonholed humans as brainless insects. Then there were the times he'd been along with Lina and such, and realized that he might be wrong. And then he came back to backwaters like this, and became convinced once more he'd been right. "So, how do we tell, if he is made of wood?"

"Build a bridge out of him!"

"Ah! But can you not also build bridges from stone?"

"...oh yeah..."

"Does, wood, sink in water?"

"No, it floats...it floats!"

(Calls to toss him into the pond).

Xellos raised his hands. They'd used Zelgadis on several occasions as an anchor; that would ruin his fun. "What else floats in water?"

"Apples!" "Bread!" "Uh, very small rocks?" "Cider!" "Great gravy!" "Cherries!" "Mud!" "Churches! Churches!" "Lead!"

"A DUCK!"

Gasps came over the crowd as they turned to face this genius.

Lina groaned as Gourry beamed back at them.

Xellos seized the floor; Zelgadis might not arbitrarily incinerate a village, but restraint from Lina? She'd need gene therapy just to consider the concept. "So, logically?"

The villagers frowned in thought. "If...he...weighs the same...as a duck...then he's made of wood."

"And therefore?"

"...a mazoku! A MAZOKU!"

Xellos grinned. "Bring the cage; we'll use my large scales."

Lina strolled over. "Hi Zel. How'd you get into this mess?"

He shrugged as he started removing all the fake non-human bits. "Wrong place, wrong time, and in the vicinity of the wrong person."

Lina turned to follow his pointed finger, and groaned as she got her first good look at Xellos. "No kidding. Want me to bust you out?"

Zelgadis just quirked an eyebrow at her. "Do you really want to deal with the aftermath of spoiling his fun?"

For no immediate reason, Lina shivered. "Good point."

The villagers desperately hustled Zelgadis out of his cage, flinging him onto the scales.

Xellos raised his arms dramatically. Damned Amelia was rubbing off on him. "Remove the supports!"

A great cheer rose from the crowd as the scales swayed, then balanced perfectly. Zelgadis turned idly to look up at the supports. "That's a fair cop." He finally found what he was looking for, a series of well-hidden springs that kept the contraption balanced, regardless of the fact that he weighed maybe fifteen to twenty times as much as the biggest duck. "Diem Claw," he whispered, severing the springs.

Cheers faded as the springs fell with an audible ping. Well, audible if the resounding WHUMP from Zelgadis's end of the scale mashing into the ground hadn't drowned them out.