As I Descend

Chapter Two: A Picture

"Contrary to Chrollo's belief, I was not cast out from heaven—thrown from paradise. I like to think I fell much like a star: bright, burning, furious…and with no regrets. I can't see why I would have any when all I've ever wanted was to join him in his darkness."

Azyel's brow furrowed as she stared down at the child's curly violet hair, honey brown skin and golden eyes. The molten orbs seemed to be sprinkled with a touch of obsidian throughout the iris and her dimpled cheeks, even if they mirrored Azyel's, they seemed to make her cheeks into plump fruit. She grabbled with the air as Azyel said not a word. She tried, unsuccessfully, to get Azyel to reach for her. But that was out of the question.

Azyel, at her mature six years, had no tolerance for messy things and this little girl, wiggling around in her own waste, was the very definition of messy.

Wet bubbles fizzed out of the girl's mouth and she laughed, sputtering as even her spittle amused her.

Awful. Azyel turned her nose up and away, "Father? Can I leave now?"

He stepped away from the cradle to give her a sheepish smile, "Bored of your little sister already?"

It's hard to avoid. She thought but said, "It's only that I'd like to draw now...if that's okay?" And escape the nursey.

Raising an eyebrow, he chuckled, wiping his fingers against his dark goatee. His eyes were bright honey like hers, not quite the gold of the fat babe in the crib. Although Azyel had her mother's softness, she knew she held within herself her father's sharpness, his grace. The babe as she spat like an invalid, had none of this. She was nothing but squishy gifted with deep violet and gold. It was a waste really.

"Be kind to your sister, Zy. You looked like that too when you were her age." He reasoned, gazing fondly back over his shoulder to the gilded crib. "We all do."

"I've seen the pictures, Father." Azyel said examining her perfectly filed nails,. "I did not and you know it."

He chuckled again, Azyel could swear he only did that when she told him the truth but he refused to see it. "Pictures only capture the very best of us, Azyel. And you know that."

"Well, If I took a picture of her right now, what would you say then?"

Azyel was sure to keep as far away from the clown as she could when the real exam began. However, she could feel his heated eyes leering at her through the mist. She continued on, though, pretending to not be the least bit perturbed. And she wasn't, not really. She was more annoyed than uneasy. Chrollo had always wanted to keep her as far away from the jester as possible, would go so far as to have her stand behind him during gatherings. Of course, this only teased the jester, made him want to draw ever closer.

Really Chrollo should have known better. He was the same was he not? What's the point of wanting something you could have whenever you wanted it? Was that not his mode for living? Was that not the lesson he hammered home to her almost every day?

He could be so tirelessly frustrating, so endlessly intoxi-

Still, now he enlists the clown's help to keep tabs. From his actions alone, someone would assume he was growing desperate. But...Chrollo was never desperate. You'd have to have emotions for that sort of thing.

He was an enigma just for the sake of it, she swore.

But...perhaps she was just being unkind because he wounded her pride, denied her vanity? No. It wasn't that simple. She wished it was, but it was not.

He'd also been a liar. That he probably couldn't help, and besides, he never claimed to not be a liar. He was very good at it and he was oh so beautiful. What did he call himself? Oh, yes, a damaged diamond. One—as the phrase goes—found in the rough—

"Stop it," She hissed to no one in particular, her steps becoming slow in the thick mist. "Stop it." she said it again, and her mind cleared once more. But it didn't really clear so much as wander, attached to something—perhaps not as pretty—but something in reach.

I wonder how Gon and his friends are doing?

Once she escaped the mist, she found her answer. Leorio was carried to the next stage by the jester himself.

Azyel crossed her arms beneath her chest as the jester winked at her. Her carted the man easily enough and dispensed him beneath a tree. He took a moment to squat above him, just watching him breathe, like watching a wild, rare creature—she rolled her eyes. He could be so incredibly strange.

Then, he caught her gaze, his wicked eyes sparking, inviting.

She wanted to ignore him, to ignore them all, but...with Hisoka so close, well, her mind wanted to wander away to him.

She smiled to herself, odd how that worked. It must be fate then that Hisoka and Chrollo's fate to be so closely tied, so much so that she cannot simply see Hisoka without being reminded of...that one.

Without a final glance behind herself, she moved toward him, trying to stay out of reach, knowing it did not matter.

Azyel knelt beside the boy pressing her fingers against Leorio's pulse to make sure her eyes did not deceive her. Since she'd begun preparing and then traveling to the exam site, she'd been very alone. Azyel felt as she walked with a veil of cold, partially hiding her from the world. For the first time, in a long, time she could stand beneath the sun again.

She pulled back, listened to the whistle of trees and felt the gentle caress of a warm breeze. Her eyes peered through the canopy of leaves above her head. Leorio's pulse, even though she had long since removed her hand, she could still feel the steady thump against her finger tips. The rush of blood banged like gong in her ears.

I should go.

"You wound me, Azyel." Hisoka hovered just over her right side, his lips at his ear. She forced herself not to jump."Did you really think I killed him?"

"What other reason would you have to carry him around?" Azyel could think of many, but insult was a lot like flattery to the jester. He operated on a separate plane than the normal world, but that she could relate to. Azyel often danced between reality and fiction whenever the mood struck. Chrollo would agree, she thought bitterly. "Either you've killed him or you were planning to."

"And would that upset you?" Hisoka's low voice was intentional, so was his teasing closeness.

"He's innocent, Hisoka."

Dramatically, he sighed, his chest pressing into her back. "You never like to answer my questions. It's makes me just so, so...distraught."

She removed Leorio's spectacles, wiped the glass against her cloak before replacing them. "No it doesn't."

"You know..." he began, pulling a bouncing lightness into his voice as he puzzled along, "I must say how surprised I was to find you here."

She cut her eyes at him.

With a grandiose flick of his wrist he continued, "The Princess, the jewel of the Phantom Troupe, let out of her tower." Hisoka's smile stretched across his face, "Imagine that."

So that meant he didn't believe she could escape, didn't it? "Don't lie. Chrollo sent you here to spy on me."She shrugged, "That's fine. It's expected."

Hisoka pushed his hand against his chest at the accusation and giggled girlishly.

"I'm trying to decide whether I should be flattered or insulted."

Leaning into her space again, he asked. "Explain that."

"Flattered that he would send you after me knowing how much you want to kill me..."

Another uproarious laugh from the jester.

Azyel examined the large bruise on Leorio's face, his cheeks rosey, his lips lightly parted. "Or insulted that he would think I needed a protector."

"I'm afraid you know him far better than I do...you tell me, Azyel."

She chose not to answer, doing her best to ignore the slithery breathing, huffing into her ear.

"Oh! I wish you wouldn't be so cold to me. You know I don't want to kill you. You're much too fascinating for that." Hisoka chuckled, swept himself into a bow, blew a kiss and sauntered away, smirking over his shoulder.

Insane as he was, there was an undeniable beauty to his chaos. It was made even more beautiful by the knives and edges on display in his aura. Like nectar and thorns. Sweet and deadly. Something too impossible to pass. There seemed to be no waste to his movements and measures. There was never a point in her time knowing him that she believed even a single picture could capture him unaware of who and what he was. A trait to be envied...studied in great detail.

Regardless, she wasn't here for that. She was here to...She was here to...

Azyel shook her head, the specifics didn't matter. She needed only to live in this day and in this time, spurred on by whatever magic held her. She expected it to catch hold of her soon, to tingle before it came like successive waves upon her. Consumed her. But when? How?

The only question she didn't need answered is why. Afterall her circle of friends, they hardly considered the-

No, she thought again, shaking her head in shame. Damn it all. This is going to be harder than I thought.

At the very least, Azyel would have some help. She did manage six months without them, without any of them. She could do it again. That was the trick wasn't it? One day at a time? Isn't that what people always said? Take things slowly?

God was she impatient.

Still, Azyel. Your real test begins now. Survive. Be without them. Afterall, they could so easily be without me. She pursed her lips, slipping her fingers through Leorio's hair until, he blinked slowly and awoke. "Where am I?"

"Don't worry," she told him, before leaning forward to kiss his forehead, "you're okay. You're with me."

Leorio turned red, his eyes closing goofily in his bliss.

She had half a mind to laugh herself until she felt a sudden chill run along her spine.

Azyel turned her head. To her left she found a tall sallow cheeked man with gold pins decorating his face. His stare wasn't quite blank. He almost seemed to be smiling, but she couldn't be sure if that was just his default expression. He wasn't much older than her, even if he did look odd and old. Twenty-four.

"There he is!"

Azyel found Kurapika and Gon charging toward them. She gave them a smile, turning her head to lock eyes with that stranger. And, as she suspected, once she turned back, he'd be gone. Disappeared as if into thin air.

She went through the motions anyway. Azyel lifted her head and ...he was still there. Still staring, unmoving.

Azyel returned his stare and waved her hand. He only looked, his head slightly cocked.

So be it. She turned back to her guests, trying in vain to wake herself up from the dream she'd stumbled into. Try as she might, she couldn't make herself feel their light just now.

She could only feel an abyss, an endless emptiness that was standing just to her left. And, like black water, she could feel it lap at her heels before it raised: consuming her whole.

That made her chest squeeze, her heart stutter in her chest. Consumption. It wasn't like she wasn't used to it by now. A small taste of it, surely, wouldn't hurt? In fact, she almost looked forward to it.

A/N: I appreciate the follows, favorites and the review! It's really nice knowing someone wants to see this train wreck happen:)