Author's Note: OH MY GOD IT UPDATED. O-O I'm so, so, so, so sorry this took so long. I've been on hiatus for a variety of reasons, among which "I lost interest" ranks rather highly. Also included are "I'm lazy," "Jonathan didn't get around to playing the Urssa Cave Temple battle like he said he would," and "WordPerfect fucking sucks."
FoxFury: Yes, zee FanCult. And you are a part of it. In fact, I'm electing you to be Vice-President. Congrats.
Pyroclastic Flow: I'm working on it... slowly... as soon as I start getting a full night's sleep again, I'll really get back to work on it...
IO: See, that's easier to type. -cough- Filler? What filler? That certainly wasn't filler. I never write filler. Not me! No filler for me, nope, not me... ... ... oh, alright, fine. It was filler... -sweatdrop- And yes... I do so love Romero's door... -coughfortherosescough-
Lucrecia LeVrai: ...I'm honestly not sure whether I should be insulted or flattered. I can understand about my FF9 fics, in retrospect, I'm incredibly unhappy with almost all of them. I did like the general story of Run to Me, however. If you were directly referring to that fic... please don't let me know. Thank you. And Anne Rice is one of my personal favorite authors, regardless of the fact that she's apparently "cheesy and boring."
Gemelli: Banners? Have at it! XD
Shadow: Yes. Yes, you do have to play this game sometime. GET IT. Now.
Misha: Of course I'm still interested in continuing it. I just... er... got sidetracked...?
EG: And here it is! Enjoy.
Warning: shounen-ai, "violence" (if that's whatcha wanna call it...)
Pairing: Romero and Albel
Afterlife
LeFox
Chapter Eight: Other Side
(I'm sorry to say that this chapter will not contain the battle scene I previously promised. I decided that you lovely people had waited long enough for this goddamn chapter. Thus, the fight scene will most likely accompany the next chapter, unless something else comes up.)
(Something will probably come up.)
---
The demon wore a muted sort of smirk as he stroked Albel's two-toned hair. Albel's face was set in a blankly serious glare, his eyes fixated on the gleaming sword in his hands. The Crimson Scourge, his father's legendary sword... in his hands once again. He ran his thumb lightly along the keen blade, drawing his hand back to observe the blood collecting on the surface of his skin. Romero, meanwhile, was wrapping the man's hair into its customary style, patiently and slowly winding each section of hair in the thin white bandaging. Albel glanced up at him over his shoulder, his red eyes fixing almost accusingly on the demon.
"...Where did you get this?" he asked slowly. "I'm sure it was sealed away again after I died. Don't tell me you robbed the castle." Romero arched an eyebrow.
"Not at all!" he replied. Sighing, Albel went back to the sword. "How could you possibly accuse me of that? I, in fact, robbed your grave." Albel's head whipped around, his eyes widened. He exclaimed, incredulously, "You did what!" The demon laughed. "Simple. The weapon was buried with you. I had to retrieve it if you were to be of any real use to me in battle. No other weapon would suffice."
So you robbed my grave, Albel thought morosely. Barely in the ground two days, and my grave is already desecrated.
"No. It was rightfully yours from the moment you took it up." Romero's voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "The sword has a mind of its own, as you know. As long as you can still wield it, it belongs to you, and no other. And dead though you may be, you are still the master of the Crimson Scourge."
Albel fell silent, holding the sword tightly. So he was the master of this blade, then? A majestic weapon of this caliber... was his for all eternity. Just like he belonged to Romero for all eternity. He had reconciled to this small fact. That he was Romero's servant, that he was bound to the King of the Dead forever, that he was a servant of a servant of the gods... he had come to terms with it. As of yet, he hadn't been treated like a slave - aside from a few particular nights recently, anyhow.
"...What are we doing?" he asked somberly. Romero drew back thoughtfully.
"We are going to the Urssa Cave Temple. It's a hidden temple inside the Urssa Lava Caves, lost to mortals for centuries. Have you heard the rumors about the place...?" Albel shook his head. Romero continued. "Ah, of course you haven't... it is merely a legend among the gods. It is a sacred place, created by Apris to test the strength of mortals. It is said that they meet reflections of their closest companions there - in combat. It can only be reached when there is a rift in time and space."
"...Like when we defeated Luther," Albel breathed. The demon nodded, turning a sharp gaze in the man's direction.
"Exactly. That is exactly what opened the Temple in the first place. And... might you be able to guess just who has found the entrance to the Temple...?"
The swordsman blinked, nonplused. Who did he know who would wander blindly into a temple carved by the hands of Apris himself? Who would accept a challenge presented by the gods? Who would... oh.
"The fool," he groaned miserably.
"Indeed," Romero replied, arching his eyebrows with amusement. "I doubt he is even aware of where he is, or what fate is to befall him. For no mortal was ever intended to escape from the Temple alive."
Albel sighed, resting his chin on his fist. "So we're going there to kill him and his companions."
"No." Albel looked up at Romero, surprised. "We're not going there to kill him. He is going to kill himself. You see... one of the Temple's secrets is its ability to mirror those who venture within. Fayt Leingod is going to kill himself... or, rather, his reflection is going to kill him. Do you understand?" Albel shook his head. Romero laughed softly, stroking his hair again. "Not to worry, Albel. You'll see soon enough. And if we stop him before he reaches that point in his journey, then so be it. But it is not our purpose. Our purpose is simply to weaken him."
—
The pool of still water seemed to glow from within, casting an eery glow across the demon's pale face. The hair on the back of Albel's neck rose, and a shiver ran down his back. There was a feeling that something was about to happen; a feeling that the entire world was waiting for something... a feeling which seemed to radiate from this small pool. Or perhaps it was the icy air of this tiny cavern? Albel looked around. Water dripped from the cavern walls, collecting in small dips created by time. Small, harsh breezes made their way into the cavern by way of a tiny opening in one of the walls. And Romero, standing perfectly motionless and expressionless, seemed once again to be a statue. Then, he spoke.
"I have to warn you," he began softly. "You will not appear on the other side as you are now. You will be a... an inverted version of yourself. You're going to appear as a similar, yet completely different, person."
"And you?"
"I am a servant of the gods, Albel. You will only notice a few small changes in my appearance... and then again... perhaps you won't." With that, he donned the mask. Albel felt a jolt at how quickly the demon's face wiped itself of any and all emotion, leaving behind the same cold visage he had seen on their first encounter. As if preparing and hardening for the upcoming conflict, the translucent light around his head solidified into two viciously sharpened horns. His eyes took on an evil, malicious glint.
"...Are you ready, then?" he asked. Albel shrugged. "Hm. Show a bit of enthusiasm, won't you?" Romero shoved him lightly, laughing humorlessly. "You finally get to trounce that boy to death. I know you're looking forward to it."
"I never said I wasn't," Albel protested. Romero arched an eyebrow.
"You could have fooled me. I'm beginning to wonder if all of this is boring you... it's not something you have to do, you realize..."
The swordsman shrugged again, drumming his fingers absently on the hilt of the Crimson Scourge. "When does it begin?" The instant he spoke, the pool of water began... vibrating. Ripples coursed out from the center of the pool, casting rings of light up and down the damp walls. The demon's eyes flashed behind the mask.
"Now."
—
It was dark now, and yet the world around him seemed unnaturally bright. He felt heavy and weightless all at once. He was sweating and shivering. He was calm and anxious. He was caught somewhere between two worlds - the world of the living, and the world of the dead. Albel shuddered as he looked at his new surroundings, trying desperately to recall just how he had arrived here.
He seemed to be suspended between two rings of light; one above and one below. He was very much alone now - Romero was nowhere to be seen. And at the same time, Albel could feel the demon's presence, as if he were somewhere nearby... perhaps even within himself.
And with that mildly disturbing thought, Albel found himself standing once again in a room not unlike the previous one. Just as Romero had warned, he noticed many physical changes in himself - as if he'd been sent through some sort of odd filter, and everything about his physical being had been reversed. He felt... paler? Perhaps "washed out" was the correct term.
He had reached the other side... the mortal world.
Author's Note: Bad way to end the chapter? Yes. But at least it is a chapter. Finally. And hopefully, I'll have a new one for you sometime within the next year or so. If not, feel free to hunt me down and brick me. ...I'm kidding. o-o Don't actually, y'know, hurt me. ...Please.
