Chapter 15 – The Truth
Xelloss returned before sunrise one morning and entered her room, expecting to find her bed empty and indeed it was. He took his time going to the kitchen, where he would no doubt find her holding her head as though trying to keep it from splitting apart. Before her on the table would be a cup of strong coffee, which she had taken a liking to since the nightmares began. He would walk in unnoticed, but she would still be able to feel the shift in the air and without even realizing it she would cringe and wrinkle her nose.
She had slept peacefully two nights ago, when he had cast a simple sleep spell on her. The next morning she had looked refreshed and vibrant: a definite change. He had also been casting sleep spells on the boy to prevent the nightmares from returning and that night, Val had also slept peacefully. If Filia remembered, the result would be horrible enough without Val remembering his past, as well. He thought perhaps he should start casting sleep spells on them both each night. He didn't know why he hadn't thought of it in the first place.
When he entered the kitchen, there she sat with her head in one hand and a coffee cup in the other, a small candle flickering in the center of the table. He had come to know her habits quite well all over again, and once again he found himself delighting in being able to predict her in his dark and twisted way. And he thought again, if only…but he knew "if only" was an empty thought. If only she hadn't come back, and a thousand other if-only's crossed his mind, and he banished them immediately.
He leaned against the window and watched her, knowing she couldn't see him, but she knew he was there. Oh yes, she knew. Normally she ignored him, but this morning something had changed. Perhaps when she acknowledged his presence.
"I know you're there, Xelloss."
He smiled and was about to utter his usual witty reply, and froze. Had she just said his name? Yes, he was sure she had. If he had a heart, he was sure it would have stopped right then and there and he really would be dead. Blissful, peaceful death. Sweet, endless darkness. Somehow he felt as if he were staring into that void at that moment.
"Just whom are you talking to, Filia?" he asked innocently, adding just the right touch of confusion. He was severely tempted to acknowledge his name, but he wasn't ready to give in. Not yet. He tried to convince himself it was a fluke. She didn't realize what she'd just said. Or maybe he heard wrong.
She looked up, and he saw the look in her eyes and knew she had not said it by accident.
She remembered.
"Don't play stupid with me," she said, her voice dangerously calm. "You always did that and it never worked, remember?"
He paused. Sighed. Finally he took a seat at the table across from her, and would never admit to the sudden feeling of fear rising up in his chest. He said nothing, deeming it best to let her talk. He still did not want to acknowledge her memories; he wanted to make her feel as though she were losing her mind. At least then…
"It's almost funny," she stated, rubbing her finger along the rim of her cup thoughtfully, staring at it as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world. "Because when I awoke this morning from my latest nightmare, it was as though a switch were turned on in my brain and suddenly I understood everything. They had long been trying to surface you know…those memories. My last moments. They wanted terribly to break free, and it can only be for one reason."
He was silent, watching her with guarded wariness. She smiled, almost peacefully, and uttered a small laugh. It wasn't an amused laugh.
"All this time, you knew," she said, her voice sharp as a knife. "All this time and you did nothing. Did you enjoy it, Xelloss? Did you enjoy watching me suffer? Did you enjoy watching me as I slept, drowning in my nightmares? I can only imagine the feast you acquired each night."
He did not answer her, but felt uneasy. This was completely unlike Filia to talk rather than act on her anger, and he wondered if remembering had really broken her. She looked mad, her eyes narrowed and dark in the dim candlelight. She looked completely mad.
"Did you enjoy the taste of my fear and confusion?" she continued, her eyes growing darker and darker. When he still said nothing, she surprised him by slamming her fist onto the table. The coffee cup spilled to the floor, glass shattered and scattering everywhere. She ignored it and stood to her feet and stood over him, screaming, "DID YOU? DID YOU, YOU HEARTLESS, WORTHLESS MONSTER! ANSWER ME!"
Finally he spoke, but the only words that could come out of his mouth were, "Mindful of the little one, Filia."
That apparently was the wrong thing to say, as he once again found himself the brunt of one furious, nearly homicidal former dragon priestess. Her hand balled up into a fist and before he could count to one second, she punched him with all of her strength. The chair he was sitting in was pushed backward and fell, and he reeled, catching himself with the heel of his foot before toppling over with it. He dodged the next throw easily, and the next, repressing an insane laughter that threatened to bubble up and out of him.
"HOLD STILL!" she roared. "I'm going to kill you, you bastard!"
"Such language, Filia," he taunted. He was sure that that quip would cause her to become more enraged, but she suddenly stopped and stared at him, her entire body shaking violently, her fists clenched tight, her face pinched into a glare. He watched and waited.
"Why?" she finally asked.
He cocked his head to one side quizzically. "Why? Why what? Why did I kill you?"
"Why did you kill Val?"
He stared at her in shock. She still believed he had killed Val? Hadn't she told him, just before she died in his arms, that she knew he had not killed the ancient dragon? Apparently, she had not yet remembered that part.
"Is that all you want to know, Filia?" he asked. "Or do you want to know why I was gone so long? Do you want to know how many golden dragons I killed? Or do you want to know if you really had fallen in love with a monster?"
"I never loved you. I would – could – never love a monster."
A tense silence followed, full of things both of them wanted to say. He felt the pressure in his chest tighten at her statement, yet his reply came easy. A confession he knew she would not believe.
"I didn't kill Val."
"YOU LIE!" she screamed, holding her head again as though it were going to explode. "I saw…I saw the blood…he was gone…you were there…"
He could see that she was starting to doubt herself, and thought that perhaps he might be able to convince her of his innocence (at least in that particular incident), but instead, the old Xelloss surfaced and he smiled an evil little smile.
"I was there," he said. "And Val was gone, as you said. And wouldn't you like to know just what happened to him?"
"Get out," she whispered.
"It was a beautiful, spring day," he continued, ignoring her, his eyes distant and voice dreamy. "Remember the orchard near your house? It was full of ripe apples. Sweet, delicious apples. Little Val had wanted one so badly. Remember how he loved apples?"
"Get out!" she said, louder. She had begun to shake her head again, holding her hands over her ears, not wanting to hear what she knew would be a macabre tale.
"Gravos, who is now your quiet, lumbering servant, George, took Val down to the orchard to gather some apples. I imagine he was going to ask you to make applesauce later. Your applesauce was heavenly, Filia, even if I am a dark servant of evil who shouldn't delight in mortal delicacies such as that. I imagine they gathered their apples and went back to the house, where-"
"GET OUT!" she screamed, and ran at him again. This time he phased out, disappearing, and she tripped over the fallen chair, landing hard on the wooden floor. For a moment he had a painful flashback to a time when she had fallen to the floor, bloody and broken. But she wasn't broken, nor was she dead, but she was getting back up and there was a small trickle of blood on her forehead.
She stood to her feet and stared at him defiantly. Any trace of forgiveness that might have been in her heart before, any willingness to hear his side of the story, was gone. He knew that, and for a split second felt both gratitude and self-hatred. It passed, and he told himself that this was for the best.
"I don't want to ever see you again," she said quietly. "Ever."
So that was that, was it? Again he reminded himself that this was for the best. He opened his mouth to utter one final jab, but decided against it. Without another word, he disappeared, and was gone. Filia was left alone in her kitchen, and this time, she knew he would not return.
She lifted her hand to wipe the blood from her forehead and felt something wet on her cheeks. Tears. She wiped them away, too, and discovered more cascading down her face in torrents. She collapsed to the floor and wept bitterly until she passed out, exhausted.
Jacob and George found her as such later on that morning. They exchanged a worried glance before George quietly picked her up and carried her to her room. She stirred a little as he pulled the blankets around her shoulders, but did not awaken until later that afternoon.
When her eyes flew open, she didn't know where she was. The room was dark, and a glance at the balcony window told her that a particularly nasty storm was drifting in from the ocean. The sight of those threatening clouds in the distance made her shudder, and she realized she'd been shaking uncontrollably in the first place. Disoriented, she slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, holding her head.
"Where…am I?" she said aloud, the sound of her own voice startling her a little. Her mind was hazy and confused. She was home…yet she wasn't home. Memories from a life long gone floated back and she couldn't distinguish the past from the present. She cried out in frustration and held her head, shaking it back and forth.
Underneath that confusion was a feeling that something terrible had happened. "Val…" she said, her voice breaking. "I've got to find Val."
Not even bothering with a housecoat, she stumbled downstairs, calling Val's name over and over. The house was completely silent and dark, lit briefly by lightning. Hadn't it been a night like this not too long ago that she'd met that loathsome monster again? Only she wasn't thinking about that…she was thinking about a day long, long ago when she'd come home one day to find the house empty and her kitchen counter covered with blood…her son's blood…
"VAL!" she screamed, frantic now, tears streaming down her face. Not again…no, Xelloss, not again. "Don't take him away from me again," she pleaded, not even sure if he was there. She was sobbing and near hysterics.
When she reached the kitchen door, she paused, not wanting to look inside and knowing she had to. Memories crowded around her, so thick she could have brushed them away from her face like flies. In her mind's eye she was seeing herself open the door. She took a few steps toward the counter and saw it, stopping, her body frozen. Saw the bloody knife on the counter. Saw apples…some cut, some whole. Saw herself reaching for the knife, her hand shaking.
"No…" she whispered. "Not again…"
But it was real and this was the present, not the past, and her nightmares were coming true.
At that moment, the door opened and she turned, expecting to see a hateful figure with dark, malevolent eyes and a cruel grin. Expecting to fling herself at him in pure rage and have him cut her down like he did before.
"Mama, look what I did!" Val exclaimed, the boy running to her, his tear-stained cheeks rosy red and so alive. As if she were dreaming, she watched with cloudy eyes as he held out his arm for her to show her where he'd cut himself.
"It hurt real bad and George said if we didn't wash it, it would get infested –"
"Infected," Jacob corrected, he and George entering the room behind the boy. "I'm awfully sorry, Miss Filia…" he continued, his hat in his hands. "The lad wanted some apples and we thought yer apple pie sounded right tasty. The poor chap cut 'imself on thet knife there and we took 'im outside afore he could bleed all over yer nice floor. We washed it out alright and thankfully t'won't be needin' stitches."
She stared at him dumbly, saying nothing. Her mind barely comprehended his words. A hateful voice inside of her asked if she was still dreaming. Somehow her mind registered that she was awake, and this wasn't a nightmare at all. The end to the nightmare. Val was alive.
She had absolutely convinced herself that Val was dead. In her heart of hearts she had somehow known…but she had been wrong. Her face crumpled and she collapsed to the floor, suddenly unable to stand.
Val watched his sobbing mother with no idea what was wrong with her. "Mama? Mama, what's wrong?" Concerned, the child touched her shoulder and she looked up at him, her eyes puffy and red. She smiled at him, at her beautiful little boy whom she loved dearly, and enveloped him in her arms. She held him and did not want to let go.
When the storm finally passed, she stood on her balcony, her shoulders shivering from the cold. She had finally calmed herself enough to help Jacob and George clean the blood from the floor and the counter and bandage Val's cut. Afterwards she had retreated back to her room, where she was drawn to the balcony and the clearing sky. Her thoughts were jumbled, broken, memories meshed together, but she was becoming more aware of just who she was.
The year was 1902. She was still Filia. Strange that her name had not changed from one life to the next…but she had changed. Or had she? Now that she remembered a life she once led, how could she ever be the same either way? Some things finally made sense, especially where Xelloss was concerned, and yet caused her more confusion in the end. In addition, what had occurred earlier that day had caused her to question her initial belief that Xelloss had, indeed, murdered her son ages ago.
Val was alive. That thought kept repeating in her head like a mantra, and she smiled. She only hoped he would not remember his past, as well. The results could be devastating. But then, Val hadn't had any interaction with Xelloss, that she knew of. She hoped.
Before Xelloss had left, he had been trying to explain himself and she hadn't let him. She'd been too consumed with anger to listen to anything; she'd only wanted him gone. And he had complied, a little too easily. Why?
She remembered her fatal encounter with him vividly, thanks to her nightmares. She remembered attacking him out of blind rage, uttering that spell. A spell that would have killed him, or at least injured him significantly. She had wanted to kill him at the time, so sure that her son was dead and he was to blame. But she couldn't exactly remember why she had believed it so strongly.
The war. He was your enemy.
She shuddered, allowing those memories to flood over her. She remembered the war and how she had turned down the offer to join the battle. That decision had been the right one, she was sure of that, but at what price? She had made herself an enemy of both sides, and had spent each night and day in constant fear of not only her life but also the lives of those she loved.
But had he truly been her enemy? She remembered initially thinking that they could make it through the war and she could forget the carnage he caused. She could forget about how many he killed and all that he was capable of. But she couldn't, and in the end had not been able to truly trust him.
Hadn't he warned you of that?
Yes. He had never really expected her to trust him.
She felt more tears coming on and wiped them away furiously. She wasn't going to shed any tears in his absence. Even if he truly had not killed Val back then, he had been capable of it. She could never forget that.
But don't you remember…just before the war…things had been different. He had been different.
She did remember, albeit reluctantly. Before the second war, she had been seeing a lot of him. And she remembered feeling less and less inclined to smash his face in. Sometimes things had been, dare she say, pleasant.
Do you want to know if you really had fallen in love with a monster?
She sighed and wondered what was wrong with her. Perhaps God or Fate or whoever controlled things had put her together with him for a reason. Hadn't she felt drawn to the house in the first place? Perhaps it had something to do with him. Even if she hated him, she supposed that if he returned, she would listen.
She thought he would return. How could he exist without torturing her? He'd been completely miserable when she'd first arrived. It hadn't taken long for him to come around and get back into the same routine of driving her to sheer madness.
Which made her wonder why had he helped her at all. She'd discovered her love for pottery again, and a steady income, with his help. He'd pushed her to continue. He'd had faith in her. He had no reason to do that…no opportunity for personal gain…except, of course, to torment her forever. She smiled slightly.
She'd even met the reincarnations of her friends with his help, which made her remember Gourry's sword of light and she wondered how it had managed to return to this world. That thought made her cringe a little, not wanting to see any more beings from another world. She'd rather forget that whole mess with Dark Star again. She prayed Val would also not remember it. Please, no…
It was interesting and a little scary. She'd been reunited with everyone she had known, even the Supreme Elder, who haunted her a little too closely. Why God or Fate had chosen to put her in the same bloodline as the Supreme Elder was something she would never figure out. Either way, she was glad to be out of his shadow once more. Also due to Xelloss' help, no less.
But to be reunited with her beloved adopted son, and Jillas and Gravos, was a fortune she couldn't have imagined would happen. Those short years with them in her previous life had been the happiest she'd ever known. This time, now, was even better. Perhaps now she would be able to watch Val grow into a promising young man. To live the life he had always deserved.
She felt her heart begin to lighten a little. As the setting sun warmed her face, she closed her eyes and smiled, spreading her arms out wide to catch the air, as though she were flying.
Later that night, she slept without dreaming. He only assumed so, judging by her silent form. No moans, no screams, nothing to indicate that her nightmares had returned. Her chest rose and fell calmly with each breath. Her lips were parted. His eyes were drawn to them as he wondered if this was the right thing to do.
He stood a few feet away from her bed, watching her, as he had been for hours, now. He found that he couldn't stop, couldn't look away, because he knew this would be the last time he would see her. He wasn't quite ready to leave yet.
How pathetic he was. He was thankful his master was not around to see this hideous display he had become. Not evil anymore, but he could never be good. It wasn't who he was. To do good would be to deny who he was. So why was he doing this? Could he honestly convince himself that he was leaving for his own benefit?
He had to leave. Not because she had ordered him to but because he had to. He had killed her once…if he stayed it would inevitably kill her again, one way or another. He couldn't bring himself to tell her to leave. He felt he was better off leaving the house to her, and she was better off without him.
"I guess this is good-bye, Filia," he said softly, knowing she wouldn't awaken. She was in a deep, deep sleep, but he knew she could hear him on some level. He knelt beside her bed and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face.
"It was pretty surprising, you know, seeing you walk up my sidewalk and barge in my house like you owned it. At first I couldn't believe it was you, but there's no mistaking you for anyone else. Even as a human. And then I saw Val and that confirmed it." He laughed a little. "I figured, just my luck. I'd been haunting this place for a long time, feeding on the fear of those unfortunate enough to move in. It wasn't a constant supply of negative energy, but occasionally I'd get the curious, the fearless, and the more common skeptic."
She slept on, and he continued. "I truly did want you to leave, at first. I somehow knew that it would end like this, and for some reason I didn't want that. I had hoped that your memories wouldn't return, but I suppose when you're surrounded by remnants of the past, there's no possibility of avoiding it. I should have left. I should have left that first night, without even revealing myself to you. You could have proven that muddleheaded Calloway wrong, after all." He laughed again. "He probably wouldn't have been convinced."
He sighed, suddenly finding it hard to continue. "Filia, I…can't take back what happened, what I did to you, back then. There will always be a part of me that enjoys pain and fear and suffering, and you know I can't change that. But I never meant to hurt you. If you only knew how far I went to keep them away from you and Val. Jillas had been an accident, and believe me, the ones who did it paid for it. But now, the war is over, Filia. There will be more wars; you can count on that. But for now…"
He paused, the words heavy on his tongue. "Be at peace."
He stood then, and laid a hand on her forehead. He murmured a few unintelligible words and then leaned down to brush his lips against hers softly. He withdrew, his face inches from hers. She still slept, her breathing even, but her lips moved, pressed together, tasting his kiss.
"When you awake tomorrow morning, you will remember nothing of me. You will remember nothing of your past life, which ended rather tragically. You never had a past life. As far as you're concerned, past lives are a direct contradiction of the gospel and you'll have nothing to do with such rubbish. Any feeling of déjà vu can be brushed aside as a coincidence. In addition, the rumors that this house is haunted are the ramblings of your deranged landlord."
He stopped. Sighed again. "Live well, Filia, and be at peace. You deserve it."
And then he was gone. The room was silent as she slept on.