Capriones 8/13/2006

Disclaimer: We shall make use of several of the characters from The Slayers, none of whom belongs to us.

Chapter Twenty-Four -- An Old Debt

It was almost dark when Xelloss arrived. He walked heavily up the path with a sense of anticipation and concern, shifting the heavy load in his arms to free a hand. He pounded on the door, arousing the household from their beds with his insistent banging. Milgasia, wrapped in a heavy, floor-length robe was first to the door, opening it, candle in hand.

"Who is it, Daddy?"

"Go back to bed!" he ordered his daughter, voice taut in his throat. Recognizing how he had frightened her, he added more gently, "It's all right, just go."

Milgasia opened the door and gasped audibly, his eyes haunted by who he found. "It must be grave business for you to come here like this," he said, stepping aside, leaving space for the visitor to enter, "demanding entry to my home in the middle of the night."

"It is." Xelloss pushed past the taller man, stumbling under the weight of the bundle in his arms. His eyes sought out the glow of the dying embers in the room beyond. "This man needs your help. It's a desperate situation."

Milgasia tilted his head in the direction of the main room. "Put him on the couch. I'll get the fire going."

Milgasia received Xelloss with ill-disguised reluctance. The two men greeted each other with an instant and well-founded dislike, concealing it in icy good wishes and the most meticulous courtesy.

"I hope I've found you in good health," Xelloss said, laying Zelgadiss out, unfolding the blanket, revealing the features of a sleeping young man with soft, dark hair framing his flawless face.

"You have, thank you. Your health is excellent, I hope?"

"Mine, yes, but this man..." Xelloss looked up from his friend's still face to Milgasia's flustered one. "He is in a stasis; not dead not alive. He was intentionally placed in that state by white magic spells in order to avoid the shock of removing...a very dark curse."

Milgasia shook the cobwebs from his brain. The stories his guests had told him earlier in the evening came to mind. None of it helped make sense of the situation, but he thought he could guess the injured man's identity.

"This man is Zelgadiss."

"You know him?" Xelloss asked, surprised.

"No, but I surmised from..."

"Xelloss!" Filia's voice rose to a shriek. She had taken the time to dress, which wasn't surprising since it was a strange house. "What in the gods' names are you doing here? Oh!" She shrank back in horror at the sight of the familiar, yet different young man on the couch. "Is that...Zel? What's wrong? He's cured, but he's... He's not dead is he?"

"Dead? Who's dead?" Valgaav grumbled, groggily, dressed in his pants with his tunic grasped in his hand.

"Zelgadiss, and he's not dead, at least, not yet." Xelloss looked to Milgasia urgently. "You can help him. You've done this kind of thing before- I know."

Filia and Valgaav stared at Zelgadiss' transformed face and hair, his ears invisible in the folds of cloth around him. Milgasia glanced down at Xelloss, reading his face for signs of cunning or deceit. Milgasia had long ago learned that people who are facing a test of courage frequently wore their fear in ways that might lie outside their usual character. The young Valgaav, whom he had just met, covered his fear of rejection with bravado and brashness. With careful study he knew he could make out a truth about someone, believing that the person's reaction to fear was always a facet of something that was there, perhaps hidden in less stressful times. The conclusion he drew about young Valgaav was that he was an untried, arrogant man, somewhat justified, whose character had never been tested until now, but that he was not a liar.

On the other hand, he distrusted Xelloss unconditionally, and felt uneasy about Xelloss suddenly appearing on his doorstep. Why was he here? Milgasia could think of no reason that didn't fill him with dreaded consequences. But Xelloss was nearly trembling with fear for the life of the man he had delivered. If, as Milgasia believed, fear was the most universal stripper of disguise, then he should see past Xelloss affable mask to his motives. He also knew that his own eyes were probably mirroring his own feelings, so there no use pretending he was comfortable with the situation. Xelloss must fear for this other young man's life like he had never feared before, because he had left his emotions exposed and raw for Milgasia to see. For that, Xelloss won over any remaining doubts Milgasia's had of his story, but left Milgasia wondering why Xelloss cared so passionately.

"Let me see him," Milgasia said, kneeling by Zel's side.

He was thinking of Zelgadiss, the young boy, and of the tragic compulsions that had driven the Red Priest to use him, and then nearly destroy him, as he ran a hand over his brow. He could sense the powerful spells used on him, the damage to his sense of self incurred by the curse itself even after its removal. He could help this young man only if he had the will left to survive.

"You can break the stasis spell? You can use Resurrection. The white magic healers treating him were unable to summon the power to guarantee his life, should the stasis be dropped," Xelloss said rapidly, further revealing the depth of his emotion. "Please try. I promised him, and his...bride."

"Bride? What are you talking about now?" Filia said in a gasp. "Oh, and you mean for him to cast the Recovery spell, surely."

"I was speaking of Princess Amelia," Xelloss told her dismissively. "Now be quiet,"

The Cepheid leader ignored Filia's rising fury as he ran his hands over Zel's closed eyes, his face clouding with growing concern. There it was, the curse had one final thread leading into his brain, like a fuse, triggered to destroy the boy's mind the minute he should awaken. It was an abominable curse! Milgasia drew back his hands as if burned. He fought back fear which would affect his judgment, composed himself, and sat back with a sigh.

The fire roared in the grate and the coals collapsed inward with a shower of sparks. It seemed the only brightness in the room. He felt everyone's eyes on him and Xelloss' boring into him, waiting for his answer, but Milgasia was puzzled, unable to come up with the benevolent motives Xelloss had to cure Rezo's grandson. When he looked up, his hazel eyes met Xelloss' dark purple-flecked eyes in a tense moment. There was a history of bad-blood between them, and they were both caught up in its memory.

"What are you doing?" Filia screeched at both men. "Can you help him or not? Because, if you won't I will!"

She strode to the couch, reciting the strong healing spell under her breath, the telltale glow appearing on her fingertips as the casting engaged. "Recovery!"

Her action broke the inactivity of the two other men.

"Please," Xelloss croaked.

Milgasia turned again to his charge. "Your power is not sufficient to hold the casting, but welcome," he told Filia as he began his own incantation.

Light flooded the room for an instant, before concentrating around his hands, and then flowing over Zel's still body.

"Resurrection!" Milgasia commanded.

A violent force knocked Filia to the floor, face down, nearly flattened by the impact. Valgaav, standing further away, gripped the back of a chair to keep his footing when powerful energy waves washed over his body. Xelloss had thrown up a magical barrier, shielding Milgasia and himself. When it was over, he threw himself forward, staring into Zel's face.

"Zel! Wake up! It's over! You are..." his voice softened and lowered as Xelloss saw the lids tremble, then the eyes of his friend open, "cured, my friend. Hey..."

Zelgadiss' eyes stared past his friend's face as if he didn't exist, then he blinked, improving his focus in the dim light afforded by the fire. His eyes widened in surprise.

"What–?"

"It worked!" Xelloss said with his voice cracking.

Filia scrambled off the floor before Valgaav could offer her a hand. She was joined at the couch by the other two men. As shocked as she was by Milgasia's invocation of the forbidden spell, Zelgadiss' transformation was far more significant, at the moment.

"Zelgadiss, you look...so different. Wonderful, in fact!"

"You looked dead a few minutes ago," Valgaav told him. "Xelloss must have carried you from the settlement all the way here to the Kathart Mountains."

Zelgadiss looked to Xelloss. "What went wrong?"

Milgasia answered for him. "Nothing the white magic users could have done, although, putting you in stasis, young man, saved your life. I imagine someone suspected the curse on you had a catch, which it did. It would have killed you instantly, had it been removed without correctly disabling the last of the spell."

"But I'm alive," Zelgadiss said, now staring at Milgasia. "You could find the problem and ... and you saved me. Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome," Milgasia muttered as he moved away.

"Did someone say we are in the Kathart Mountains?" Zelgadiss asked, his head clearing. "This is Cepheid territory, then, if I'm not mistaken."

"Right," Xelloss said. "And it was the Cepheid tribal leader, Milgasia, who ...returned you to us."

Xelloss beamed brightly after a struggle explaining what had just occurred. Without another word, he yanked off one of Zel's gloves. "You must be curious how you look, right? Look at them! True gentleman's hands."

Zelgadiss did, sitting up and using the light from the fire to examine them. "Yes, I remember seeing my hands and face clear just before, well, I demanded you continue. I can't believe it."

Guilda stepped from the shadows, her shyness coming from going against her father's orders. "I've brought you a hand mirror, ah, sir."

"Thank you, Miss." Zelgadiss was at a loss for her name, but forgot to ask as his attention was caught suddenly, mesmerized by his own image in the mirror.

"I'm Guilda. You met my father-" she gestured toward Milgasia, standing and glowering over them.

"Thanks, Guilda," he said.

Zelgadiss' hand touched his chin, his nose, hair, and found an ear; everything appeared normal again. With a twist of his wrist he cast a lighting spell over his head.

"Well, that works," he said wryly, although it was a relief to know he could still summon a spell.

His eyes remained glued to his reflection.

"It's me, I guess. Older than last I recall. My hair," he blew the messy bangs out of his eyes, "needs cutting."

At last he tore his attention from his image and met Xelloss' expectant look.

"Thanks for bringing me here, in time." He turned slightly toward Milgasia. "And thank you, sir, again, for saving my life. I am in your debt, which I hope I will be able to repay."

"Don't mention it," Milgasia said, clearing his throat. "Ever."

"I recommend that none of us ever speak of this again," Xelloss said.

The Cepheid leader's eyes darted sharply to catch Xelloss' gaze and found that the desperation was gone. In its place was a twinkle of humor. His stomach clenched as he wondered what Xelloss would ask of him next; how he would subtly demonstrate the power he exerted over him and his people.

"What else do you require?" Milgasia asked.

"Me?" Xelloss asked, letting the barest flicker of laughter enter his voice. "I could use a bed to sleep on or this rug in front of the fire– first off."

"I'd like to let Amelia know I'm okay," Zelgadiss said. His unusual eyes capturing first Guilda's then Milgasia's as the blood rose up his neck to his cheeks, "She's my...wife."

"You wish! I watched Xelloss marry Amelia," Filia said.

"We must have missed the divorce and the next wedding," Valgaav said with a hoarse chuckle.

Xelloss returned a twisted smile. "We Capriones do race through relationships."

Valgaav laughed. "Yeah, but I'll bet Zel consummated it, and not you."

Zelgadiss choked and coughed as he exchanged confused looks with them both and blushed deeper, but Xelloss merely smiled amiably and said, "I'm satisfied."

"You fooled Zelas, didn't ya?" Valgaav asked.

"What?" Filia asked. "Xelloss bamboozled Zelas and didn't marry her after all– Zel did?"

"Something like that," Xelloss said as he turned back to his recovering, but deeply embarrassed friend. "Zel, someone will return to camp with the first light, but not now in the dark. The pass is treacherous, even casting lighting spells. I know, I brought you here like a crazy man."

"There are few enough hours until daybreak," Milgasia said, stepping to the hall. "I'll bring blankets for our guests, then I suggest we all get as much rest as possible. I'd rather hear the rest of my obligations to you," he said directly to Xelloss, "With a few hours sleep under my belt."

Xelloss had other ideas. "I'll help you with those blankets," he said, rising to his feet with his natural elegance.

Milgasia continued, knowing Xelloss was at his heels, until they were out of hear shot. "What Xelloss? I have no desire to play games tonight."

"I wished to thank you personally. Zelgadiss' return to health is very important to me and to our cause."

"What cause is that? Stopping Cardinal Rezo? I've heard from Filia and that young man, Valgaav. All about it. I told them I'd think about what I'd do."

"I'm glad you understand. I wish to assure you that Valgaav can be the leader your fighting men need to rally around, and that he is who he says he is, but," he said with an impish smile, "don't tell Val I said so. It might give him a big head."

Milgasia's eyebrows shot up. "You want me to stand aside for an unseasoned lad to lead my people into a battle which could cost them everything they have?"

Xelloss smile turned bemused. "Yes, I do believe that is what I want! Don't worry, I'll be there and so will Zelas and the armies of Seyruun."

"There?"

"The Caprione settlement below."

"Why there? Why not here or Seyruun?"

Xelloss smiled and shook his head. "That's a secret!"

Milgasia blood boiled, his face grew red, he gritted his teeth. "When? Or is that a secret too?"

"Tomorrow."

"Dear gods! So soon!"

"There is no time like the present," Xelloss laughed, "Well, actually, the morning's far better. I'd like some shut-eye. And breakfast. A big one. I fight better well-rested and well-fed, don't you?"

"May Cepheid preserve us!" Milgasia groaned.

End Capriones, Chapter Twenty-Four.