Split Ends
Introduction: Wow, it's been almost three months now hasn't it? Many apologies for not churning this out sooner, I got into a bout of writer's block (Which I fixed!!) and became extremely busy due to a school play. Anyhoo, things are about to get ugly. Ready?
Italics- thoughts, memories, etcBold- actions, important stuff
XIV-
In a soft cloud of dust, a blonde haired boy alighted on the ground. As the cloud settled around his feet, he strode quietly over to the table, where a huge, bloodstained sword lay. Malicient grin plastered on his face he put down two books on the table, and the stuffed bear. Still slung over his back was Mewt's unconscious body. Llednar released his grip on Mewt and allowed his alter ego to slide to the ground. He smiled at his success as Mewt landed with a sickening crack, rendering him unconscious for at least another hour more.
Thick blood coated his hands as he picked up one of the copies of Gran Grimoire and slid it onto the podium. He shed his cape and hat, allowing his pale hair to billow in the drafty dungeon around him. He was about to turn back to Mewt when something caught his eye, a flash of red.
He did a double take, as upon the book was a small red stain among the gold-carved cover. For a brief moment his eyes softened, and he allowed one gentle whisper to escape his lips. "Babus…"
Llednar's mind warped back to when he was first created by the tall, thin woman whom he soon came to know as Remedi, his supposed 'mother'. Wistfully his mind came upon the little mage's cold look when he had stepped into the room with the Queen, about to be introduced to his new charge: Prince Mewt. His first impression of the stubby mage had been an annoying one; the stupid mage was in his way all the time, 'protecting' Mewt as it were.
A smile played upon his lips, a very slight half smile as he remembered how much he had… what was the word? …Envied. He had envied Mewt for having Babus at his side constantly, someone who would gladly give his life just for Mewt's safety. Llednar's main purpose was to be a good soldier and destroy any threat to the monarchy; so he never learned to love.
A pang of emptiness echoed in the pit of his stomach, and Llednar sighed. It was always that annoying little pain in the back of his mind, the pain of everlasting loneliness. His eyes softened gently, his pink irises no longer cold and hard. For a moment, he looked and felt like a lost little child… always alone.
Something stirred behind him, and the mageknight regained his focus. Alert, he swiftly whirled around to see what had moved. To his slight surprise, Mewt had awoken, and was not in the greatest mood.
Seething, Mewt shifted to get a better look at his captor. His eyes were wild with anger, even though he was half blinded in pain. The blurry image of Llednar was not comforting in the least. "B-Bastard…" he hissed through gritted teeth
, his vision fading and sharpening in awkward shifts. His head felt like it was about to split in two.
It was very difficult for Llednar to contain his surprise despite Mewt's poor vision. Mewt was not supposed to have awakened until much, much later. He now knew that time was of the essence, and mentally slapped himself for dwelling in his own thoughts so long. He regained his poise however, not skipping a beat.
Not responding at all to Mewt he swept over to the podium, flipping the pages to the spell. As he flipped through the pages however, Babus's determined face came back to him. With every page turn, his face gained clarity, until Llednar could recall exactly how Babus looked and acted that day he had tried to stop him from getting into Ambervale. That day when he had gone ahead of Marche, trying to talk some sense into Mewt and Remedi before they would have to face the harsh reality… before Llednar would be defeated and have finally outlived his usefulness.
The pang of emptiness surged through his system again when he reached the page of the Illusion/Reality Spell. Disregarding it, he read through the ingredients, all of which could be found in the dungeon easily. Only one ingredient proved to be a slight problem: human flesh.
Mewt would have to be unconscious throughout the spell, considering Llednar was purely an illusion representing Mewt's anger. Unconsciousness insured little struggle and easy access to flesh; Llednar knew could do without the earsplitting screams when he cut into Mewt.
The unconscious state would also allow Llednar access to Mewt's subconscious, where he could draw a human form, and a personality. A bit of a grin, or the closet the mageknight could ever get to one flickered on his lips. With a true personality, with a true human body, he could feel and act on his own. The idea appealed greatly to him.
Behind him Mewt struggled desperately with himself to get up. He managed by gripping the table to hoist himself onto his knees, but apparently when Llednar had run through him he'd broken quite a few bones, disabling Mewt's ability to walk. Blinded with pain and heated rage, he forced himself to stand. "What are you planning…?"
"Sit down," Llednar uttered with a low growl without glancing at him. "Before I force you to."
"That has nothing to do with what I asked!" he spat. "Where are my friends?? You didn't…"
He stopped himself as Llednar turned around, cold eyes glittering. Perfect, he had an excuse to keep Mewt under control. A malicient smile slid across his face, bluffing all Mewt needed to know. In horror, Mewt sunk to his knees again, shaking. "Y-you didn't… y-y-you…"
"Ah but I did," Llednar grinned, showing Mewt his bloodstained hands and clothing. "It was such a lovely massacre, if I do say so myself."
For a moment everything was quiet as Mewt took in everything he had just said. As Mewt allowed the news to batter him into submission, Llednar felt the emptiness grow. He had just told Mewt that he had slain all of his friends mercilessly… that made him sound like a psychopathic murderer. Llednar's eyes softened again for just a brief moment, for he knew he could never slay any of those people. Deep down, he liked watching Mewt play with his friends… friends were something he never had. No one wanted to be with Llednar; everyone judged him so quickly. Even his own creation, Ujuidar, had desired to be with Ztir rather than him. The loneliness in his heart grew as he watched Mewt shake, his face still cocked in horror.
Tears surfaced in Mewt's eyes and slid down his face, meshing with the blood dribbling from his numerous scratches and slight head wounds. Suddenly he glanced up at Llednar towering above him and barked, "You're lying!"
Now it was Llednar's turn to be taken aback. "What? You're accusing me of lying?!" he snapped, baring his teeth. Mewt sat up, despite his pain and the fear that he'd broken a few pieces of his spine. He stared up at Llednar with a determined look on his face, one that Llednar had never seen before. "Yes! Yes you crazy bastard!! You liar! They're alive and you and I both know it!"
Llednar did not let on at all, staring right back down on Mewt with a menacing look on his face. His cold, unhuman eyes narrowed, "And how would you know, weakling?"
"Because you're a part of me!" Mewt cried. "And even if you had to kill them you wouldn't because they're my friends! You care for them too, so why are you hurting them so?!"
Llednar spat on him. "Insolent fool! I could care less for those slimy slugs you call friends!"
"You care! I know you do!" Mewt cried, wiping the spit away as Llednar turned back to the book. "Fool… I can't love anyone."
"Momma made you to protect me!" Mewt cried in despair. "In order to protect someone, you must have at least some love for them in your heart, otherwise the means of protecting that someone are worthless!"
"I only protected you for the sake of my own body you idiot," Llednar growled. "I couldn't do anything without your permission. I didn't have that type of freedom… but soon… very soon I will… and the world will be mine."
"Why…why are you doing this?" Mewt cried out. "What's the point?"
His illusion stood in silence for a moment. Mewt squinted a little to try to see Llednar's expression, but half his face was hidden under his blond bangs. A slight wind picked up in the airy dungeon, ruffling Llednar's hair. It gleamed as brilliantly as the blood dribbling down his fingertips.
He finally spoke, gazing at Mewt over her shoulder, "The point…"
Mewt's eyes widened slowly at the sight of Llednar's expression, and a gasp escaped his lips. Llednar's eyes had a crazed look to them; the pupils fully open… except his pupils weren't black but a dull, light pink. He no longer resembled the little human being he was. Even though he was naturally inhuman, now he possessed a wild, savage look. "The point… is to have freedom… to be able to walk, live, and feel as you do…"
A crooked grin spread wide over his face, stretching from ear to ear. He raised one hand to the wall beside him. "To be able to touch… even to touch just a cold surface… to stride and feel the cobblestone under my feet…"
Mewt's eyes widened in horror as Llednar fully turned toward him. "L-Llednar…?"
"My one wish…" Llednar smile glittered maliciently as he swept down upon Mewt. "Is for one thing… the ability to finally get rid of the emptiness in my heart… the ability… to love."
"Llednar!!" Mewt's bloodcurdling screams echoed throughout the castle.
-
"Mewt!!" Marche and Cid cried out at the same time, both turning in the direction the echoed scream supposedly came from. Shara's ears twitched as she hoisted the unconscious Ritz into a sitting position. Nono was tending to Montblanc, while Guiness and Lyle tried to consult Colin. Marche had been standing in a state of shock, watching the place where Llednar had disappeared with his best friend. However, the scream finally brought him back to the present.
"Mewt's in trouble!" Colin cried out, pushing the other two away in order to get up. "Come on! We have to find him!"
"Hey! Steady!" Lyle gripped Colin. "You shouldn't move. Your shoulder blade is shattered, and you can't even swing a sword if you wanted to. We have to find a bandage, that way your arm won't rot."
"What?! You idiots!" Colin growled, writhing to get out of Lyle and Guiness's grasp on him. "We have to find Mewt! That's what's important remember? We promised… to… protect… him…" Suddenly he slipped out of their grasp and flopped onto his shattered shoulder blade. Pain shot through him, numbing his sense. He cringed. "Argh…"
"You see?" Guiness said gently. "You shouldn't move. You need rest right now. Llednar can't kill Mewt, even if he wanted to. He has to become the reality to remember? So he needs Mewt to live so he can conduct the spell."
"And you're just going to let him??" snarled Colin. The two continued arguing while Nono looked on from his brother's side. Two big tears rolled down Nono's cheeks. "Montblanc…"
Miss. Radiuju sat not too far away, stroking Doned's unconscious form. She gazed around at the rest of the clan. Ritz, Doned, and Montblanc were unconscious, and Cid and Colin were wounded. She exhaled, smiling to herself. Thank god Shara escaped combat with only a scratch, and Marche, Lyle, Guiness, and Nono were perfectly fine. She sighed, rerouting her gaze to the ceiling of the spectacular castle. Mewt… I hope you're all right…
Gently she stood, taking Doned with her. She handed Doned to Marche, and turned to the rest of the clan, clapping her hands. "Guys! Don't panic, I have everything we need!"
"You do?" Marche eyed her warily. "What do you have?"
Miss. Radiuju smiled. "Well, I have X-potions, a few curealls, and a handful of bandages! I was once a white mage you know!" She beamed at the rest of the clan's dumbfounded expressions. She rolled her sleeves, pulled out some potions and bandages, and set to work on Colin. "We can't go find Llednar now, not in the state we're in. After we heal up, then we can go after him. Luckily for us, no one was killed."
"Yea…" Marche glanced at his brother. Doned slept peacefully in his arms, his breathing no longer coarse and raspy. He smiled. "Thank god."
Shara came to his side, cradling Ritz in her arms. "Marche…"
Nodding, Marche set Doned down and helped Shara with Ritz. "Llednar took quite a bit of energy out of her…" Marche pursed his lips and reached for one of the X-potions his mother was handling. Gently he uncorked the bottle and held it to her lips. Tipping her head back in the same motion as the bottle, he carefully tried to pour the silvery liquid down into her stomach. Success wasn't evident, considering most of the liquid refused to enter her mouth and instead dribbled down her soft chin, meshing with her snow-white hair.
His brow furrowed as he tried to grapple with the wasted potion, fumbling to bring it back into his hands. Setting her into his lap he cupped his hands around the thick drops, catching most and missing few. His hands managed to capture and hold the thick liquid, and with Shara's help he tilted his hand to her lips. The potion went down this time, and slowly Ritz swallowed.
Marche watched in contentment as the numerous scratches and wounds whittled down to healthy skin again, the color returning back to Ritz's cheeks. He ran his fingers lightly through her hair, admiring the beautiful white hair. It was smooth as silk and glittered against the sunshine filtering through the room. He smiled slowly, a red glow rising up toward his face. Not really realizing what he was doing he laced his fingers through hers, smiling down upon her face.
Shara watched him in silence, beaming slightly. Beside her Doned stirred a little, but his brother took little notice. Marche leaned closer, his mind wondering what the hell he planned to do so close to her. He contented himself in thinking about how her eyes would sparkle when she awoke, her eyes laughing at him. His eyes softened as he watched her stir beneath, and finally her eyes opened slowly.
"Marche?!" Ritz cried out in surprise, eyes widening. She shot forward, and the two collided heads. Marche jerked back in surprise and slight pain, not expecting such a reaction. He whirled around to find Nono behind him, laughing. "You're face is all red! Just like a tomato!"
Both kids flushed, which only caused Nono to laugh harder. Beside him Miss. Radiuju was tending to Montblanc, and after a few moments Montblanc stirred and awoke, "Come now… what's going on?"
"Marche and Ritz are tomatos!!" Nono bounced, and Montblanc stared at the two in confusion. Then he saw their fingers laced in each other's and smiled. "Ah…"
Marche followed Montblanc's gaze and gave a slight gasp, quickly withdrawing his fingers from Ritz's. The two went bright red, Ritz's face surpassing the old red color of her hair dye. Nono was rolling around laughing.
Shara's left ear twitched in annoyance. She cleared her throat, and Nono instantly stopped laughing. She drew herself up from the ground and helped Ritz up. "Now then, everyone seems to be well…"
"Damn you!! Get away from me!!" Colin's wild cry interrupted Shara. Lyle and Guiness were holding him down, trying to force a potion down his throat. "There's no time for healing dammit!! Let go!! We have to save Mewt!!"
"…Ok… maybe not everyone," Shara shook her head and sighed. "But I think it's about time we went down there now. We have to hurry though, who knows how much time we lost sitting here…"
Miss. Radiuju hobbled over, her knees buckling slightly under Cid's weight. Luckily however, Cid could pretty much walk on his own. He only leaned on her for slight support, still weakened from Omega. Cid smiled at Marche, "We're all set-
"ARGGGH!!!" Colin bellowed as the other two finally managed to bandage his wounds.
Cid raised an eyebrow. "Right, so let's get going!"
Marche gestured toward his brother. "What about Doned? He's still sleeping…"
"We can take him with us," Cid smiled. "I'm sure he'll wake up soon. Besides, he's less stubborn than those three," he jerked his thumb in the direction of Lyle, Colin, and Guiness.
Ritz smiled, erasing the awkward red color on her face. "Well then, what are we waiting for?" She stood slowly, and dusted herself off. Marche stood with her, smiling. He through his head back to glance at the others, "Come on guys, we're going back to the dungeon."
Colin stopped struggling, blinking in the surprise. "That wacko place? Why?"
"That's where Llednar's bound to have held him," Marche said. "He wants to conduct a spell remember? Now come on, if we hurry we'll make it in time."
They started towards the dungeon, all but Miss Radiuju. Gently she kneeled beside her youngest son in the midst of the now relatively ruined hall. Her fingers danced through his hair, ruffling and slightly mussing it. She giggled softly when Doned shifted away from her hands, obviously irked that someone was messing with his hair. Doned…
Suddenly her ears twitched in the quiet hallway. Marche and the rest were already out of human earshot, and although she could still hear them with her viera ears, what she sensed was quite different. She glanced up up instantly, scanning the hallway for something… anything.
Silence answered her. For a good while nothing moved except the slight wind blowing in from the windows. She exhaled a breath she hadn't known she was holding, and bent forward to pick up Doned.
She rearranged Doned in her arms so she was cradling him. Turning in the direction of where the rest had gone, she glanced back once or twice. Silence still replied to her questions, a silence that was a question unto itself. After a moment or two, she trotted off, Doned neatly in her arms and her ears twitching to find out exactly where the clan had gone off to.
Its noise deaf to viera ears, a figure stepped out from behind the shadows cast from the pillars. Soundlessly he stepped in the direction of where Miss Radiuju had gone, a sword clasped to his side. His stature was menacing, with jet-black hair concealing a twisted expression of rage. One word spilled across his lips: revenge.
-
"Llednar! Llednar don't!!" Mewt cried out desperately, his shoulder gouged in several places. Blood stained the cold cobblestone of the damp dungeon, and the stench of blood hung in the air like a thick, heated mist. Llednar licked his pointed blade, the wild rage in his eyes glowing.
"Don't what?!" he snarled, thrusting his sword once more. Mewt swiftly threw both arms in front of his chest, forming a cross to block the sword from his neck and chest. However, that proved to be difficult, considering both his shoulders were pouring with blood. Pain swam through his veins, sending his mind reeling and his stomach churning. The sword sliced through the skin of his wrists easily, blood slithering down the shiny sword in veins. The blood spurt speckled Llednar's twisted face so it looked as if he had scarlet freckles. Llednar cackled madly at the terror behind Mewt's eyes. Mewt feared him, and he knew it. He knew it a little too well.
Mewt choked on his own blood, vomit threatening to come up behind it. Llednar loosened his grip on the sword still stuck in Mewt's wrist, and threw his foot into Mewt's gut. Mewt cried out, the blood in his throat splattering onto the ground as he slammed into the wall. Sliding gently to the ground, his vision faltered more and more, until Llednar was only a yellowish pink and red blur.
"Yes…. Yesss…." Llednar's voice was low and rich, like he was singing Mewt a lullaby. Mewt's body screamed for sleep, for rest, anything, just to get out of the pain. "Silence the pain… silence it all…"
Mewt's eyes lulled, and darkness threatened the corner of his vision. He squinted furiously, trying to see Llednar, to keep him within his vision. I can't give in… I just… I… I can't… can't…
Yet even as he thought this, darkness swarmed his vision like a pack flies over fresh meat. The ringing sound in his ears ceased and it didn't hurt anymore. Llednar watched as Mewt's eyes closed, his head rolling till his chin rested on his chest. Another wicked grin tore through his face, twisted his features to that of a demon. Mewt had finally passed out. "Perfect…"
He turned to the large, slightly ruined cabinet and drew out a few ingredients. Gently he mixed the colored poweders in a large bowl, sifting them together with expertise. If the mageknight ever lost his job as a fighter, he could always become a white or black mage. A black mage was most evident.
The mist swirled in the bowl as assorted neon colors of greens, pinks, and blues. The mist settled into thick syrup, and Llednar licked his lips solemnly. Slowly he tipped the bowl to his lips, drawing the cool liquid down his throat. Gulping it down hungrily, he slammed the bowl back down on the table, the neon colored syrup dribbling down his lips and cheeks. His smile widened. "Now then…."
Slowly he walked over to Mewt, the magic syrup beginning to set to work. His DNA was quickly being reassembled so he was no longer a ghostly figure, but a true being. With each plod of his boots he began to feel more and more of the cooblestone beneath. His clothes began to hang down like they would cling to a normal being, and bones were slowly being formed inside his body. All that was left of the spell was to drink the blood of the real being.
The spell worked as a reverse technique of sorts. The real being would have to be alive, but definitely half dead in order to drink the blood needed to fully assemble the new DNA. The real being, sucked dry, would become inevitably become the illusion. There was no balance between the two, and the whole spell was extremely painful. Being half dead was painful alone, but growing new bones? Ouch.
Llednar cracked a high-pitched laugh, an almost maniacal sound. The pain from the spell was blinding him as he plopped down beside Mewt. There wasn't as much blood to drink because of the amount shed, which benefited the spell and Llednar. Llednar disliked the taste of blood.
He placed his lips on Mewt's slit wrists, breathing in the heavy stench of blood. He released for a moment, surprised at the wetness. He'd have to drain all the blood from Mewt in order to become a real being. It slightly discouraged him by having to drink blood, but the idea of being rid of the pain definitely appealed to him.
Blood formed a ring on his lips, almost like lipstick. Once again he leaned forward, and bit a little into the skin to get the blood to run. From there, he drank. Deep, slow sips of the scarlet liquid. It had a coppery taste to it, except it was a bit different from what he expected. In fact, it almost tasted… good.
He abhorred the idea. His body shook as he drank, and with each drink the shaking grew worse. He could feel life slowly breathing into him, a slow, painful life. Emotions he never knew he would own came into his mind, played through his heart, trying to catch up to the times. Real emotions… suddenly he could feel all the pain and heartache, everything his should have felt during his past, come swimming through him.
It overwhelmed him. Pain shot through all of his essence like a bullet, a bullet he could finally feel. All the heartache, the abandonment… it swam through his head and taunted him. Llednar released his hold on Mewt's arm, Mewt lying half drained beside him. He leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. A trickle of blood dribbled from his lips, slightly spraying a bit with each raspy breath.
Llednar shook terribly, his hands rattling the table leg he was gripping beside him. He gulped down air; the pain in his body and mind was unbearable. Years of total emotional pain swept over him, and suddenly he went from his usual deadpan emotion to pure sadness… to pure anger… to a deep loneliness. His emotions jumped back and forth, surging and slowing with odd speeds and tempo. For once in his life he could feel his heartbeat, and not all of himself felt lifeless. Too bad he was only halfway through the spell.
He tried to sigh, tried to breathe, and failed. Luckily he was still half of an illusion, so breathing wasn't completely important. Still… pain jolted through what he knew of his system being alive. Yet, as he sat there in the most pain he'd ever experienced in his life (in fact… probably the only real, true pain) he felt oddly at peace. The emptiness, that dreaded empty feeling that used to sit in the back of his mind had finally disappeared.
Llednar closed his eyes, and a true smile spread across his lips. It was gone, all gone. He could love, he could feel love, and he loved the idea of it. He would never feel so empty or alone again. He just had to complete the last part of the spell: drink the rest of Mewt's blood.
At that very moment, when he had finally found his own peaceful world, it shattered. Marche's clan thundered down the dungeon stairs weapons and shields ablaze. However, they were not prepared for the sight before them. Marche dropped his sword in horror, and Miss. Radiuju gasped.
Mewt's lifeless half illusion sat next to Llednar's semi-real being. Blood dribbled from Llednar's mouth in little trickles, and blood still poured from Mewt's numerous wounds. Cid rushed toward Mewt, cradling the unconscious boy in worry. "What have you done?!"
Llednar's expression wavered. Shakily he drew himself to his feet, knowing it would be a futile attempt to complete the illusion-reality spell in their presence. Unfortunately he had little strength left to blow them unconscious with Omega. The best he could do right now was to conduct the Ceremony of Seal, praying it would work with only half a real being.
Gently he stepped toward the table, reaching for the bear. Still shocked, the clan stood in a shaken state, unaware that Llednar had really moved. Marche and Cid rushed toward Mewt in horror, Cid checking the boy's pulse, "Oh god… Marche… he's lost so much blood."
"Is he…?" Ritz whispered, not daring to breathe. Cid nodded solemnly, "I believe… the illusion part of him is sustaining him. He's only half illusion."
Montblanc whirled to face the bloodied mageknight. "Which means that Llednar only completed half the spell…"
Llednar froze; they'd realized his presence. A new emotion swirled through him, causing a pit to grow in his stomach. What was that eerie feeling that made his hair stand on end? He tried to ignore the strange feeling, and reached toward the table. Someone else however, noticed his slight motion.
A cold, gruff hand shot out of the darkness, gripping Llednar's wrist tightly. "Don't you dare…"
Llednar's eyes widened as the gruff hand threatened to twist his arm in two. Two cold gray eyes stared down at Llednar with an intense gaze. The gaze had an air of murderous anger, but was otherwise unreadable. He recognized those eyes and exhaled a breath he never knew he had withheld. It came out a stifled gasp.
Llednar froze completely and realized exactly what the emotion was now screaming inside him. Fear.
"U-Ujuidar?"
To Be Continued