As I Descend

Chapter Eight: To Keep

"Contrary to Chrollo's belief, I was not cast out from heaven—thrown form 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 heart beat, now just shy of ten years, thundered in her chest. Light from the balcony spilled across her face. From the doors a breeze shuffled through, throwing her gold curtains into a dance. Orange tinted the room once ivory and gold. Her black ensemble stood strangely against the pale room. Chrollo didn't suggest the color. Azyel assumed black would make it harder to see her than her trade mark colors, it would make it harder to track her down in the falling light.

She'd packed what was necessary. However, she'd immediately been notified that her bag was unnecessary.

"All that you need will be provided." Chrollo had said, dictating the words as if he were whisking her off to some utopia.

Pfft! Chrollo knew nothing of utopia. He only could see it without touching. Her father had said one day, after speaking with Chrollo, "That boy is chasing the moon, thinking it holds his true self. Defined by those around him, he is unknowable." Enova shuddered at the thought as if frightened him. But that didn't make any sense to Azyel. Why invite in something that scares you? Why attempt to know it? Why not crush it like a spider dangling before your eyes?

Azyel scoffed. No. that didn't make any sense. Chrollo was mysterious sure, but unknowable? That made him sound a lot more impressive than he was. It made him sound more impressive than herself….

So naturally, she ignored these words in their entirety.

She and Chrollo were not equals. She was his superior and he her guide to Neverland or the like. He was simply ferryman, her lantern to her true place. Soon she would sit at the head of everything. She would find her King and she would be beloved beyond reason…as she should be. She felt no need to lead in earnest only to command. That's all. She was not an ambitious girl. After all, what did she need with ambition when she sat so high as it was?

Against Chrollo's suggestion, she'd taken a bag anyway, one that could fit easily onto her back. Money and keepsakes were stored within. The fact of the matter was she was making a huge sacrifice to find her freedom. Chrollo, for all she knew, had no money. She could not depend on him to provide her needs. If she saw a darling pair of earrings, who would purchase them?

No. She best do that herself.

Still, her heart thudded. Beneath her arms, a chill had settled, causing a plague of gooseflesh to spring up around her shoulders.

Next to her bed, her owl clock read 7:30. Having left at seven, her parents were arriving at the Wintermutes for dinner, Iris among them. Claiming a disagreement with Helia, Azyel was excused. Chrollo had orchestrated this. While they were 'friends', her family did not spend time at their estate. So this whole, 'meeting' was irregular. Mr. Wintermute had needed her father's help. From the look Enova had given Azyel, it was major trouble. Chrollo had been the one to suggest the invitation to dinner.

"Why else would I spend so much time there?" Chrollo mused, eyes glinting as he savored her scowl. "What did you think?"

"I didn't think about it at all." She said through her teeth, "Don't flatter yourself. I don't spend ample amounts of my precious time worrying about you."

Slowly, his smile spread, catching his eyes, "But you do spend at least a little, don't you?"

Rewinding her words in her head, she stepped back from him, torn between flying at his neck and chucking her clock at his smug smirk. "I—oh, shut up."

The memory of his laugh mocked her from the depths of her mind.

The memory of the fire followed soon after.

Ayzel forced herself not to immediately kick Gittarackur in the back and down into the water for getting them into this mess. The fact that the urge had not stayed below the surface startled her.

Not since she was twelve had she been so moved by violence. Not since she'd learn to conquer those urges that she had to disarm them, removing their teeth. If she wanted violence, she asked for it. It didn't spring into her sight, like a troll guarding a bridge. At least it hadn't, not in while.

Her next urge was to run. Not from the mangled bodies that wobbled and lunged, grasping for her neck, but from Gittarackur. Whatever he was, was slowly and surely undoing her. It was both thrilling and disturbing—

"You're distracted."

She ducked as a zombie swiped at her face. Azyel could have tripped it and sent it flying back into the water. Instead, she danced around its arm, falling back into Gittarackur. Three of them followed her, she spun around Gittarackur, disappearing from their view, and hiding against his back. Glitter had no issue quickly dispatching them. With sickeningly crunching sounds, they collapsed.

"You might want to try fighting them." He said, arms striking fast and furiously, taking them apart as if they were dolls. The pieces falling harmlessly to his feet. They probably are to him.

"I don't make it a habit to solve problems others create," she said, eyes scattering across the bodies. Several of them wore torn clothes dripping with water. The more that sprang toward them, the more the arena was filling with liquid. It was almost genius. The water would check any fancy footwork of theirs…if they were only novices. "I'm looking for the key."

Minutes past with Gittarackur, quickly and easily dispatching all advancers. Despite his urging her to fight, he didn't allow her past his reach, stopping all that approached her.

Azyel stole a glance at his profile, expressionless, facing forward and yet somehow….somehow, it felt as if he were looking right at her.

"Why do you keep watching me?" she asked, eyes still searching while her mind, thumbed through her memories, cataloging his stance, his mannerisms—comparing.

In that same, deep impassive tone of his, he asked, "Does it bother you?"

His eyes caught hers as he thwarted another zombie without looking.

She looked away, "I found it." She said, pointing straight ahead. Now the area was littered with pieces and bodies without heads. Using his arm as leverage, she leapt over his shoulder leaping from one head to the next, sending one zombie tumbling into the next.

When she reached her target—the largest zombie who stood nine feet tall—had the key ticking into its neck. It had no head. It was an old key, brass with a small loop reaching toward the sky. Azyel landed on the shoulders of a zombie and it fumbled with her weight. As she rode him to the ground, his knees buckled, and she threw the pin she'd taken from Gittarackur at the key. It rung around in a circle impaled to the wall.

The water ceased its rumbling and the zombies all fell where they stood, toppling like dominoes. Azyel stepped off her zombie as Gittarackur walked past her, leapt the distance to snatch the key, landing lightly beside her. The movement was fluid, seeming to take little effort at all.

"When did you take it?" He asked as the two of them walked back to the burly man from before, neither looking around them even once.

"When do you think I had the chance?" Azyel asked, and then she took a step back from the burly man gently, still dead as Gittarackur pressed the key into the device. something clicked in the distance. Behind them, across the arena surrounded by water, a door slid open, revealing a lit hallway.

They stood to their feet, walking in step. "Just now?"

Fight as she might, she couldn't help the smile that innocently curled her lips, "Actually…I took it the first time I touched you. Did you really not notice?"

For a while he said nothing, and then, "I was distracted."

They were alone when she took it. So, of course, that meant, "No one else was around."

"You were."

Azyel's fingers played with her right earring, her eyes found his profile. Even when he wasn't watching her, he watched her. Still, his eyes could be deceived, his mind disarmed. She knew that. She just wanted to hear him say it.

"Are you annoyed?" She asked, teasingly. "I ask because sometimes its difficult to tell with you. Your face isn't exactly a billboard of emotion."

"No," He said, coolly, calmly, "It's what I expect from you. If I had noticed, I would be disappointed."

Her right hand trembled as her smile erased itself out of existence. There you are again, she thought bitterly, another hint. "The least you could do is give it back to me." She said, angling—always angling. "I did earn it."

"You took it from me by underhanded means and you didn't retrieve it yourself." He said plainly, "Moreover, just because you steal something it doesn't make it yours. It's still mine." That she disagreed with. If you're able to take something, didn't that normally mean it was never someone else's to begin with?

Azyel blinked, her mind ignored most of his words, focusing on the ones she could better refute. "Underhanded? How was that even remotely underhanded? You saw me touch you."

"You used your feminine wiles against me." Gittarackur said. "Some would argue that's an unfair advantage."

My what? Azyel couldn't believe her ears. "You are the most impossible—!" she held her tongue, glaring at him instead. He bobbed along like it was his idea, like her anger was a pleasant thing to behold. How she detested that.

The two of them walked through low light. Azyel's shoes could be heard against the ground. Gittarackur's footsteps weren't audible.

"So, you're an assassin, Gittarackur?" Azyel observed, turning back to their dark tunnel. "What does an assassin need with a hunter's license?"

"What does an heiress need with one?" His low voice asked. He seemed unperturbed by her observation; felt no need to hide his occupation.

She frowned, disliking the fact that he had not glanced over to her at all. To grab his view, she tugged at his sleeve, slightly pinching his skin through the fabric. "So, you aren't going to tell me?"

At the contact, his eyes found her. She had to resist the urge to smile. All beady-eyed, he said. "I will, if you answer my question."

"I asked the first question."

"And that means you get your answer first?"

Azyel blinked. "Yes, actually. That's how a conversation works."

"I disagree."

She rolled her eyes, "You would."

For a moment, Azyel heard only her shoes, only her breaths. Again, his were barely audible, even to her trained ears.

"You're dropping hints about your identity," she told him, "but if we've met before eight years ago, I may not remember you."

His entire head turned to her, she turned away from him. "Most things before the age of ten are a little fuzzy to me. A friend of mine believes it to be connected to trauma, but I disagree with her. The trauma she's referring to is quite vivid…and is multiplied by my hatred. I wouldn't forget that."

"And what sort of trauma is that?"

Smiling mischievously, Azyel returned. "That's the second question you've asked. If you would be so kind as to answer my first, I may be inclined to answer your second."

Gittarackur sighed, "You're a lot trickier than I thought you'd be."

"Years of practice." She said.

"You never used to be so subtle."

Azyel threw her hands to the ceiling, "Again with the hints!"

He continued to speak as if he had not heard her outburst, reminiscing with a hint of fondness, "If you hated something, you were visibly disturbed. You became almost dangerous."

Not one to be ignored, she grabbed his arm, pulling him to face her. She lowered her voice, ice wrapped around her words while her eyes burned into his. "Well…if you keep up the hints, you may find I'm not so changed."

Without altering expression, he yanked her toward him. Her eyes widened but she did not gasp at his sudden proximity. She was used to such situations. His chest was warm against her own, she had to place a hand up to keep herself from being pressed too close. Ducking his head down to speak into her right ear, Gittarackur said. "I look forward to it."

He pulled away, leaving her with a slight tugging in her chest.

She laughed, surprised by his flirtation. Unable to help it, she decided to give him a round of applause. At first, she thought he was utterly hopeless! Perhaps not, perhaps there was something else beneath his darkness, something that could want just as easily as it kills. "You're a quick learner."

He didn't come back at her immediately, the wheels seem to turn behind his eyes, computing and programming, "What was it you said? Oh, right: 'Years of practice.'"

Oh, I like this.

Save for Hisoka who gave them a devilish wink as they entered, no one else had arrived.

"Isn't this a nice surprise," Hisoka cooed, shuffling a deck of cards. His pants didn't appear to have any pockets. Azyel wondered where he kept them. "The two of you look quite cozy. Three's company, you know?"

Azyel bristled, again, her fingers found Gittarackur's shirt sleeve, giving it a slight tug. "Do you know him?"

"An acquaintance." He answered.

Her eyes narrowed, "I have to be suspicious of anyone who's an acquaintance of Hisoka."

Hisoka gasped, feigning hurt, "Hey, I resent that."

Both of them, promptly ignored him. Gittarackur said, "So, you're suspicious of yourself as well?"

"I keep me on my toes." She said, as she slipped down against the cold wall. Gittarackur followed, taking her left. She was relieved he hadn't left her side. With him there, that dark pair of eyes would find someone else to watch. Not that Hisoka's presence wouldn't dissuade it as well. His would, but she'd rather not give Hisoka any excuses. "Most aren't up to task."

His eyes wheedled, burrowing into her cheek. Hisoka stretched as he stood to his feet. Grinning ear to ear, he made a show of licking his lips, limbs shaking slightly in anticipation.

Azyel wished she didn't know what for. "Must you always be so animated, Hisoka?" she asked him as he came to squat in front of her. Her knees pulled to her chest served as the barrier between them.

"Your hoods down. Did you notice?" He asked, balancing his elbows against his knees as his head forced into her space. "Or are you done hiding?"

"Done, I think." She answered with a sigh. "But…I assume you want something?"

As he spoke he drew two fingers between them, "I just want to know what happened."

"You don't know?"

"You know, I don't." he said dramatically, and as if asking for sympathy, he whined, "they don't like to tell me things."

"How terrible for you," she said sarcastically.

He continued, ignoring her tone. "I just know that you left and…" he gestured toward her, "now you're here."

"I'm here."

"So…can you tell me why?"

"Why do you care, Hisoka? It seems unlike you."

He gave her a ridiculously puzzled look, it was so ingenuine she almost believed it. "Does it? Honestly, I'm just curious. You and the Boss, well…you're inseparable. When I first saw the two of you, I assumed you were partial to one another." Hisoka had a habit of purring when he spoke, she'd always wondered if it was affected or if it just came naturally to him. Undoubtedly a combination of both.

"Never assume." Azyel said, "Besides, appearing partial to anyone is one of my talents."

"Indeed." He continued on, not dissuaded in the least. "So, a lover's quarrel then?"

"We were never lovers." Her tone was neutral, even if she were growing weary on the inside. Her fire would not be stoked by him, he'd only enjoy it.

"No?"

"No."

"Hmm…" Hisoka pressed a hand to his forehead, "How disappointing."

"Is it?"

"Why, yes. Don't you see? The two of you—standing side by side, hand in hand—you were quite the picture." We didn't hold hands…not really. It was more of a guiding thing, a helping hand up stairs and such.

"Pictures are so easily destroyed."

Hisoka's eyes seemed to glitter as they brightened, "Aren't they?"

"Hisoka." Gittarackur had a slight warning in his voice. Azyel had to admit, she wasn't expecting it.

Azyel looked to Gittarackur, astonished.

"Oh, sorry, am I overstepping?" Hisoka pressed a hand to his chest, all innocence.

"You should try to rest." Azyel urged instead, not sure if she liked the sudden feral energy between the two of them. A fire that only needed the slightest prodding to light. "And bask in the knowledge that you arrived first."

He flashed a smile at them both, eyes darting over to Gittarackur. "Oh, I'll take the hint. We'll talk later."

Hisoka swayed to the other end of the room, amusement in his golden gaze.

When he settled down, Gittarackur spoke, "Is he always that way with you?"

She laughed, moving closer to him without knowing. "Only because he thinks it bothers our mutual friends."

"And does it?"

Smiling, she turned fully to him, "Yes. Every time." She switched tactics, her honey gaze looking onto those beady little eyes, hoping something beautiful lay beneath. "Why do you ask? Are you in the market to bother me?"

"You're flirting."

She groaned, making her displeasure clear by nudging his arm. "You know the key to flirting, isn't pointing it out. You just make it weird that way."

"Why do you do it?" His questions seemed to come at her like a child, a child who didn't know they shouldn't ask just anything, not if they didn't want the answers.

"It's instinctive. Sometimes, even I can't control it. I just…do things." She gestured flippantly, and then raised her brows, "It's a habit. Do you want me to stop?"

"You don't flirt with Hisoka."

"Hisoka doesn't need me to flirt with him. He's an entire island by himself. Any pleasure I could give him would be to die by his hands to incense others. Ignoring that would be stupid."

"Others would be the person he's referring to. The person you ran away from."

"I didn't run away." She said, holding up her pointer finger to his cheek to make the amendment. "I left quickly."

After a moment he asked, "I need you to flirt with me?"

"You want me to," she said, closing her eyes to rest. "It's nearly the same thing."

Thirty hours into their wait, Azyel found a dark pair of eyes on her. They made to circle the room distractedly, but Azyel knew when she was being watched.

Gittarackur noticed, "Do you know him?"

Her eyes slid open, dreamily, "No. He probably just wants to kill me."

"Why would he want to kill you?"

"I have enemies." She shrugged, "You can't tell me you've never experienced the same."

"Because you're an heiress?" He was obviously stuck on the why, to Azyel that hardly mattered.

"No." her eyes opened wider, "He doesn't feel…malicious. He takes no glee or greed from this. It's very matter of fact. It's a payday. He probably doesn't even know I'm an heiress."

Gittarackur loved his questions, "How do you know that?"

"I know people."

He seemed to accept that answer, falling quiet and pulling them into silence. Strangely enough, it was comfortable. It felt natural. Azyel was so comfortable, in fact, she could see herself falling asleep on his shoulder. Maybe if he didn't annoy her any, she may do that.

Hours past, food was brought out on carts. As they dined, Azyel kept glancing up as examinee after examinee entered the room. Each one brought on new disappointment.

"Waiting for someone?"

Azyel glanced down at her red apple, holding it before her lips, "You know those four boys? They're taking their time, aren't they?"

"Are you worried?"

Smiling, she took a bite, savoring the sweet taste before she spoke. "I like them. I don't always get to like people. I want them to be around for a while." After a moment, she looked at him, "Like you."

His brows rose, indicating for the first time, his surprise. "You want me around for a while?"

"At the risk of sounding…well, not nice," she giggled, "that all depends on how you look."

He glanced at her waiting, and so she continued, "If you look the same…" she weighed the apple against the air, "I'll be disappointed. If you look the way I prefer—"

"And how is that?"

She pursed her lips, thinking, "A friend of mine would say dark hair…dark eyes, but as long as the hair is dark the eye color is…unimportant." Azyel held her apple up staring at the smooth red surface, before she cut her eyes at him, "If you look like that, I might keep you forever…like a vendetta."

He blinked once, "Did you mean to rhyme?"

Azyel's shoulders slumped as she glared at him. "Why are you ruining everything? I swear its like I'm throwing balls at your head and no matter how hard I throw them they keep bouncing back to me! Ergh!"

How can you be distracted by my "feminine wiles" when my basic tricks fly right over your head? Her eyes burned into his face, after a while she closed her eyes, biting down on her apple. Azyel intended to ignore him. It sounded stupid now, but that line usually worked so well!

He asked, "What? Did I say something?"

If the room wasn't steadily filling with people, she'd pick up her tray and sit somewhere else.

Just as she'd given up hope, a door across from her opened and four bright eyes quickly found her. A smile split her face, and she was able to relax against the wall. As they fumbled in, all four followed by a chunky man, Azyel shot to her feet.

Glancing over her shoulder, she gave Gittarackur a wave good-bye, "Don't go saving anyone else, okay?" those beady eyes affixed to her back as she rushed the sheepish quartet. Those dark eyes of her would be murderer followed her, taking note of her smiles.

He wanted something. Whatever it was, she'd know soon.

Author's Note: Always appreciate the reviews! I would have updated sooner but life has other plans. I just really, really appreciate the love and support from you guys, it definitely makes writing this that much easier. See you next time