Cloaks

by sarehptar

After the fact, an alchemist drinks Darjeeling and does a great deal of talking. It's not like things ever went according to plan anyway.

15. Black Education

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Author's Notes: Okay, okay. Admittedly, I thought this was going to be up so much sooner, but then I got super busy and yeah… Anyway, it's still up before the deadline, so I'm proud of myself. This chapter is so long. It's more than 15,000 words (25 pages). It is the chapter I knew I was going to have to write all along, the infamous Snowy Mountains chapter, and I really worry that I don't do it justice. Wah, don't read volume 12 and this at the same time… Or maybe you should? I don't know. I'm sorry if this sucks. And has some really crazy parts in there. I'm really sick right now, ouchie. Please review and tell me what you think?

Disclaimer: I'll be serious this time. I don't own any of the characters, events, plot, or even much of the dialogue in this chapter. It is all the glorious work of one Mineko Ohkami, and I'm not writing for any profit other than fun.

Background Music: Dark Chest of Wonders (Nightwish)

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Cloaks
By Sarehptar
Chapter 15-
Black Education

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When I stumbled thoughtlessly up the castle walk, it was with the strange feeling that comes to me all too often, the feeling that is both pleasant and saddening, relieving and maddening. It seems terrible to me that hearts are capable of experiencing such extreme opposites at the same time; it seems very cruel. Looking up at the snow-covered castle where warmth and a concerned interrogation surely waited for me, I could not help but feel comforted, could not help but think about how wonderful a fire might be at this moment, how easily enjoying the warmth and the silence might clean my mind of the grief and horrible thoughts—yet at the same time, this relief was tainted by my memories, which echoed constantly. Mocking me with all that I had seen, my mind seemed intent on showing me endlessly that barren battlefield, on showing me that crumbling castle, on showing me the purposeless destruction of the Faerie Forest. I knew, even in the most pleasant of moments, I would never be able to forget—and looking over my shoulder toward Dusis, where the Dragon Clan had my son prisoner, I knew I would never be able to forgive.

When I finally brought myself to push open the castle doors, it was exactly as I had expected. You were waiting for me there, in one of the comfortable high-backed chairs. The sunlight was filtering through the windows above you, illuminating the dust raining in the room. For a moment, you seemed not even to notice my presence, because you continued to stare across the hall, lost in your thoughts, glazed emerald eyes doing nothing but taking in the patterns on the marble walls. Then finally you turned to look at me at last, and a kind and benevolent smile swept across your lips. In the one moment of quiet you and the golden shards of light seemed to welcome me, welcome me wholly without any regard for what had happened, for what mistakes I had made and failures I had forged. I was home.

I wanted, at that moment to fall down before you and weep. In my head for that one breath you were the older of the two of us, and I was the child, weak-minded, dependent and lost. I wanted nothing more than to sit in the tepid dusty sunlight and hear you –hear anyone– tell me everything would be fine. I was missing what I had never had, what Ruin might now ever have, and what I really wanted for that second was a father to gather me in his arms and assure me that my world was not ending, that hearts can heal, that what is lost might yet be found... There was no one as there always had been no one.

As much as I wanted to beg you to comfort me, I did not do it. I was too aware of myself for this, too strong for my own good. Instead I let you call to me in that loud and familiar way, let you berate me for being gone so long, let you scold me like a disobedient child for having gotten my clothing positively filthy. It was not what I wanted, but it was something, a little bit of familiarity and fuss that made the bad things seem, for the moment, just a bit farther away. You could not banish all my fear, but it was kind of you, unknowingly, to try. I sat myself wearily in one of the comfortable chairs, running my hand without intention over the emerald crush velvet and finely polished mahogany. I wondered briefly if you were responsible for its impossibly deep shine.

"Come and sit beside me." I offered and ordered. Confused, you scrambled to obey, plopping unceremoniously onto the finely carved ottoman. With a few quiet words I brought a fire blazing to life in the grand fireplace, liking the way the normally cold room began to heat up quickly. For a few minutes the warm silence enveloped me, soothing the open wounds I felt my very soul must be marred with. And then, to my own immense surprise, I was the first to speak. "I've made a terrible mistake Garfakcy… I am afraid I will never be able to undo it."

"Wha—" You began hastily, but I silenced you with a dismissive hand. Maybe I believed that if I was interrupted, I would never start again. Indeed, I did not know what had compelled me to begin. I think now that it was some intrinsic knowledge, some subconscious sense of self-preservation: because I know if I had said nothing, if I held every single hateful, fearful, damning word inside me, I would have fallen so far into self-pity that I would surely have ceased to function. I needed you –as I have always needed you– to take the burden for me, to save me from myself. As if it was your very purpose, you listened to me silently, emerald eyes wide and sure. Humans, I will always marvel at them. What you lack in physical power, the strength of your heart makes up for ten times over. Every poisonous word, the very words I could not stand, you took into yourself without flinching. Of course, I did not tell you everything—I could not bring myself to admit anything close to the truth…

"I've made a terrible mistake," I repeated, as if this could sooth away all the trouble behind the words, "With a spell. And now everything has gone quite wrong." You made an unsettled noise as if to break in again, but quieted yourself. "I've lost something more precious to me than I could ever explain." My throat tightened, I could not even force another word across my lips.

"You should get it back." You could not hold yourself in any longer, seeing me so, and your words stung me in their irony. Get it back? My chances of succeeding against the pure light barrier of the Dragon Castle were less than none—I could not even begin to think about how long it would take me to obtain the Dragon Lord's blood. I didn't know them or understand them then; I thought the Dragons to be nothing but haters of youkai, a force of "good" against my "evil"… But if I had not been so prejudiced, could I not have simply asked for entrance to the castle? I did not know that they are the type of loving fools who would have admitted me! If I had gone in the very first day and politely demanded they return my son to me, might I not have prevented so many horrible things?

How could I have known? I was afraid of them, though I would never have told this to anyone. My demon mind and soul could never have comprehended pleasant conversation with the enemy.

"But if I try to retrieve it and I fail, I may be killed." The look on your face shocked me—I expected confusion, at the most sadness, but you sent me the sharpest glare I'd ever received.

"No one can kill you." You hissed, young voice brimming with rage at the notion and faith in the words. The utter acceptance of this, as if it was a law, a Gospel truth, stunned me. You honestly believed (no, desperately wanted to believe) that I would never die. How badly I wanted to believe it too, how hard I pretended it was true! Now I'm disappointing us both.

"I won't give it up to them, I can't." As strong as your conviction, I determined the Dragon Tribe would not hold my child prisoner. If it took all my power, I would bring him home.

"I'll help!" You promised, and the childish sounding vow sent a tiny stab of guilt through me. Would you have volunteered so readily knowing what my "precious loss" was? Would you have risked your life to return another child to my side? At that time, I thought you would have been too jealous, too afraid of losing your place to ever protect Rath, Ruin. I was wrong.

I said the only thing I could. "Thank you." It was for more than your offer of aid.

The silence waxed again, broken by the snapping of the logs in the fireplace, and after a long minute you stood, pointing out the laundry was still not finished, and would I please change out of my dirty robes? "Not now." I murmured in answer. The chair was simply too welcoming; I could not bear the thought of moving. You must have understood—on a normal day you would never have let me lie in sullied clothing. Long after you left me, I laid still, my head far back against the gently angled top of the chair, my bloody gloves buried in the velvet. I do not know when I fell asleep, but it must have been quickly, because I remember little but the sound of the crumbling logs.

The morning light woke me, and I shifted wearily in the chair. My back and neck were stiff, complaining about the long hours in a strange position, but that was not what I noticed first—some time during the cold night you had come and thrown a blanket over my prone form. Watching my breath mist in the room that had grown as cold as the snow piled on the sill, I was quite grateful for your consideration. Pulling the thick ivory wool after myself, I wandered to the window. It was strange and disconcerting to see my normally green forest decked in such absolute white, and I wondered if you'd even be able to spot me and my pale clothing if I wandered outside now.

Would nature stabilize after what Ruin and I had done? I was not sure, and I caught myself hoping it would and would not. Already the wavering shadow and broken sunlight was irritating me, however I could not help but love the way the icy flakes glistened, utterly pristine across the wide front walk. Once upon a time, I loved the snow—despite the destruction that it told, somehow its quiet glittering fall reminded me of innocence, all things bright and pure. But that was many years ago, and now when I look at snowflakes, all I can see is blood.

"Good morning Master Kharl." You bustled through the front door, shaking your boots free of the powder. Your arms were full of strawberries, and I knew we were going to have my favorite kind of pancakes for breakfast. That you were only now preparing to cook told me it was still very early. I offered to help you and was rejected thoroughly; however this did not surprise me. I'd offered just to be polite—the kitchen, we've both agreed, was a place I should simply avoid.

The delicious smells of the browning batter pulled me from the window where I had gone back to staring. When the warm strawberry smell came wafting to me as well, I could resist no longer, and left the main hall for a place at the dining table. We ate the flawless breakfast over typical pleasant chatter, and I was more that grateful for how astute you really were—you have always known just what to say and when to keep silent with me. You knew not to ask whose blood was on the cloak I still had not removed, not to ask what I had lost, who supposedly possessed the ability to kill me… You talked about how the cold was making the irises bloom twice as large as last year, but was freezing the pansies' roots and destroying them. I listened with a rapt ear and nodded, though I could not even tell you which of the multitude of flowers in the garden were irises and which were pansies.

After we had eaten, I dressed myself in fresher robes, a dark sapphire blue that clashed miserably with my hair as much as every other color does. I carefully pinned the thick cloak together with the heavy silver cross clasp, wondering only briefly where I'd gotten the pin and its accompanying braided tassels. Somewhere downstairs, you clattered about, washing something or other with that fervor for cleanliness that has never left you. I watched the snow fall for a few moments, beckoning me silently, and then I knew –no, it was not like knowing, but like being told– that I needed to go outside. I wanted to feel the chill of the air and remind myself that in striving to bring warmth into my own life, I had brought a reign of cold over the whole world. If you heard my call, you did not answer, and I crossed the castle steps feeling faintly ignored.

The frozen air hit me like a wave as I stepped free of the lingering heat of the main hall, and the gentle dancing snowflakes hardly stood out against my pales palms as I reached to catch them. Far away, a watery ray of sunlight split the clouds, shimmering and hazy as snowflakes drifted across it. There was a stillness all around me, a stillness that was unsettling and peaceful simultaneously, and I felt, even though this weather was a symbol of horrible destruction, there was still a purity in it, still a happiness that bubbled inside me, unsure and weak from disuse. Looking across the fields of drifts, it felt as if I had not been happy for years. It felt like years ago that I held Ruin in my arms.

The forest floor was slick and wet with snow that had fallen through the branches and remained frozen in the trees' shadows. The wide, uneven path was treacherous with mud and ice, and I picked my way carefully through the uneven ground. For a long time I simply wandered, through the trees, along the snowy sands of the shore, over fields buried so deeply in the drifts not a blade of grass could be seen. I spiraled outward from the castle, aimlessly, only skirting the humans' village in hopes of avoiding confrontation. I failed miserably at this—but it was not a demon I met in my wandering.

I should not say I met her, but that she met me. As I stepped stately through the snowy shadows of the oak boughs, I felt a presence, immensely powerful, pure, and approaching. It was enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand further up, and I was immediately jarred. But, I settled and forced myself to continue walking as if I felt no power stalking closer and closer behind. There was no malice in the aura, far from it—there was an imploring, delicate nature to the spirit that made some of my unease flee quickly. Who was this foreign power, intruding so boldly and innocently on my territory? I hoped that whoever it was would overtake me soon, for curiosity was pouring into me relentlessly.

When at last my wish my granted, I was left speechless. She came alongside effortlessly, each pointed step matching my own in width and speed. Her long decorated cloak made no sound as it dragged across the ground, and unlike the dirty hem of my own clothing, the mud and mire seemed never to touch her. For a long time, we simply walked together, snowflakes catching in the folds of both of our clothing. Her impossibly rose-colored hair fell in tender waves far down her back, catching the half-light as it reflected of the snow. She was small, too much so, and I caught myself thinking that such a fragile creature should not be outside in air so cold.

At last, as I stepped closer to her to escape a smear of mud, she caught my sleeve. Her roseate eyes –such a strange color– met mine just as her slight hand fisted in my sleeve.

"Lord Alchemist," her voice was as soft and tremulous as I expected, "You must listen to me." For a moment I could nothing but stare at her, gauging the power I could feel roiling in her spirit. Such immense strength did not seem to match her weak frame, and I knew it was not physical in nature. Who was she, what did she want? I worried for a moment that she might be an enemy, this might be only some deceit, but looking at her concerned gaze, I did not think her capable of harming anyone. She seemed, beyond anything else, utterly too perfect. I knew even then she was not of this world, but every thing about her, from the feather light pressure of her fingers to her finely creased brow, reassured me of a kindness around her I could almost tangibly feel.

I halted my steady pace, turned to look her fully in the pale face. A part of me, the slightest part, was angered (frightened) by the fact that this wisp of a woman knew not only where to find me, but my title, my abilities… More than this however, I was only curious, intrigued immediately that a creature I had never met in my long life had an important message for me. I could see her breath in the chill air, fine as mist. There was such a desperation and concern in her eyes that I was almost stunned. Who was this delicate girl whose gaze begged me, forced me, not to turn away?

"Tell me." It was not a demand, simply an acknowledgement, and my own voice was lighter than I'd intended, more open and beguiling than I had expected to sound. She breathed deeper, nearly a sigh, and I could see relief wash across her finely made features. Had she believed I would ignore her? The fingers buried deeply in the fabric at my arm released slightly, falling to rest more comfortably at my elbow. She did not let me go—it seemed she was afraid I'd slip away from her at any moment. I watched her, uncertainty and wariness fading quickly as the seconds passed and her altruistic aura soothed even the air between us. Then she took a step again, starting over our interrupted walk, and I walked rigidly in her grasp.

To an outside observer, would we have looked like two companions, enjoying an untimely winter? I wondered, had I never left the castle that morning, if she would have come right up to my doorstep. As gentle as she seemed, I did not feel any fear in her at all, none of the reluctance one should feel when facing demons. For someone so fragile, the boldness that allowed her to approach me, a murderer, seemed very dangerous. I almost told her so, almost warned her against simply walking up on youkai—but the absurdity of that held my tongue.

"In this world, I am known as the Heaven's Star Princess." The way she carried herself seemed to me suddenly very elegant, not a step out of place, and I puzzled over why I had not thought her royalty before. "I am going to tell you all I have seen, and I beg you to believe me. The fate of this world is in danger. Lord Ruin is in danger." If she was trying to catch my full attention, she had exactly the right words. I flinched, and the concern lit again in her gaze as if she too could feel the sore wounds that simple name could open.

"How do you—" I tried to begin, but she shook her head to silence me. Stray pink locks slid down her shoulder, stopping where her arm met mine, and I was careful not to catch them between us and hurt her.

"Please let me tell you everything I can," she began, "There is so much to tell." I nodded, and the delicate woman began to lay out for me the story of a future I had never dreamed would come to pass. "Ruin has been taken into the Dragon Tribe. He was cornered in Hyuray by the officers and the Lord. They came to make restitution for the lives of the Dragon Fighters that had been taken. But Lord Lykouleon could not bring himself destroy the demon wearing the form of his beloved hound—it would be like you striking down one of your own birds." The thought alone was unpleasant, and for a brief moment, I shuddered to imagine facing one of my faithful companions as an enemy. Her knowledge of me was unsettling, but I felt, more than knew, she was in possession of a wisdom I was not privy to. She was, and most assuredly always will be, the most powerful fortuneteller our world has ever known.

"What have they done?" I questioned, thinking up every violent manner that beasts may be subdued, and worried that even more damage had been done to the remnants of my innocent son.

"The Lord has given his Light and his flesh to bring Lord Ruin under control. He has been given a Dragon's body—a Dragon Lord's Light." Whatever cruel abuse I had imagined, the truth was a thousand times more horrible. Dragon's blood? A Dragon's form? Of all the things that could have happened… It was like losing the soul all over again. Stolen! I felt as if he had been brutally ripped from me, placed just out of my reach. How could my precious demon have been so polluted?

Hatred, swift and intense, coursed through me—how dare they? I would level their castle and raze their kingdom to the dust! I wanted justice, revenge, anything! The beautiful princess frowned softly, a look that did not suit her. At my side, her delicate fingers tightened. If it was to reassure me, I was not comforted, only unsettled again at how well she read the depth of the emotions my face could not possibly show.

"There was no other way," her eyes shone with rending sadness, "To end the destruction." I knew she was right, that what had been done may have saved hundreds of lives, including Ruin's own. There was no other way for them—but that did not make me any less murderous, any more forgiving. "They will keep him safe," she murmured, looking at me with such believing eyes, "He has become their infant prince." Hadn't he? Taking in royal blood, the soul I had drained my heart creating had become the brother –the son! – of a man whose sword was black with the blood of our kin!

It seemed like divine cruelty—it seemed as if God had turned his back on me entirely. The irony twisted in my stomach, and I had to bit my lip to keep in a moan of abject despair. In my sleeve her fingers tightened again, the only thing she could do to try and ease my pain.

"He is going to become an incredible warrior. His enemies will tremble at his name." She was working so hard to lighten the unbearable news for me, but failed worse with every word.

"Demons will tremble at his name." It was spiteful, and I wished I had not said it. "I did not make Ruin to be a force of destruction! I did not mean for him to ever be…"

"I know," she whispered, voice full of consolation and a warmth that made me think of mothers, though I had never personally known one. "I know." And she did—it was as if this delicate woman knew not only the ever-changing future but the murkier depths of my own heart. "Lord Ruin will wield powers unlike any before. He will have the strength to bathe the world in Light or—"

"Plunge it into Darkness." I remembered the helplessness in Silk's eyes, and bloody mist clinging to her golden hair.

"I have seen the future of this world and it is unsure. There is still too much that may change. If even o-one event…" It was becoming harder for her to speak, and I could see crystalline tears welling up in her eyes. It occurred to me that knowing every imminent death and failure of an entire world must be a terrible burden. She seemed too kind to shoulder it.

"Lord Alchemist," she stopped suddenly, and her grip congealed to a pressure I had not imagined her capable of. A single pearly teardrop spilled off her cheek. "I have seen your soul, and I know you are not a cruel man! I have seen that you truly love Ruin—and that is why you must not try and take him from the Dragon Tribe!" Another teardrop hit the snowy earth and shattered, just as my mind seemed to cease its functions. Leave him among enemies? Allow him to become something he was never meant to be? Watch them force him onto a throne he was never meant to have? I could not imagine it, could not imagine letting my son live his life as the child of a Dragon Lord. Without even thinking about the motion, my hands moved to wipe the lingering tears from her cheeks.

"You cannot expect me to honor that request." It was a little unkind of me, but I my heart was not in rebuking her. I could feel the purity of her convictions—but to ask such a thing of me… She opened her mouth as if to say something but could not find the words. "Could you simply watch and do nothing, in my place?" I wiped another tear with the embroidered cuff of my cloak and her grip on my sleeve lightened to nothing. The frowns on our faces looked, to me, identical. "Thank you Hime-sama(1)," it was too brief, too sharp of me, "But I cannot forsake him. Ruin is worth more to me any uncertain future of this world." I stepped away from her, a physical gesture to match the distance her request had pushed between us.

"I beg of you…" She began, failed. "I only want… I only want to spare you both the suffering!"

"For me, you are already too late." I felt merciless saying it. She was trembling, and the impossible power within her seemed only a rouse for a creature too delicate for this world. I could stand it no longer, her silent tears, her desperate, angelic gaze—frustrated and more hopeless than when we had begun, I left her. I simply left her there in the snow! I pretended not hear her call, her sobbing for what Ruin and I had become. I hardened my heart to the feeling of her roseate eyes on my back, begging me with every step I took. How could I have known the seriousness of the advice she was urgently trying to give me?

If I had honored her request, would the world be any different? I cannot believe it—it seems to me that, like so much else in my life, there was simply no other way. If I had not gone to the mountains, would I truly have spared Ruin any pain? The lies would have come crashing down around him one day, all the more agonizing for their dormancy. And if I had not gone there, inadvertently, there would be no Wind Staff—no way at all to save my child from himself… Yet with this thought, I am jumping ahead in my own story.

It was six and half years before I saw the Heaven's Star Princess again. As if she was a herald of more than just the future, the years after our first meeting were the most testing of my life. I can't even begin to think about them again, for fear that frustration might cause my heart to beat faster and end my life all the more swiftly. Those years I spent desperately watching, listening, spying… I can at least think about the many times I bribed members of Nadil's army for information about the Dragon my child was shaping up to be. Can you imagine the stories I was told? By the tender age of seven years and three months, my son had become an enemy to youkai, more feared than any of the infamous Dragon Fighters. He was the Dusis' King's "secret weapon", a tiny but flawless warrior with not only a Dragon at his side, but also the remaining Dragon Dog "Crewger". Did the snow guardian protect Ruin because he could feel his ice brother inside that false Dragon form?

Every time I heard his story from another demon's mouth, he was blown more and more out of proportion. By the time he had officially been instated as the Dragon Knight of Fire (which chagrined me to no end—as now it was not only his job to protect Dusis, but to actively attack demons) many of the youkai who had never been part of an attack against Draqueen believed him to be a monstrously large creature, capable of hacking demons to bits without even drawing his sword. I even was told once by a raving young youkai that the new Knight could breathe fire! The hysteria that innocent little Ruin seemed to bring simply by existing was almost entertaining to me, and if he had been by my side, and not by that stuffy Lord Lykouleon's, I'm sure I would have positively enjoyed the panic his power produced, the rumor that had gotten so out of hand.

Once, five years or so after I'd lost Ruin, I met a Dragon in a bar. It was an accident, but not much of one, for I had been searching for one of their kind for months. As active as the Fighters were, I never seemed able to get any of them alone to talk with, and half the time I found them so busy there was never a moment to try. Yet this man, an albino by appearance, was sitting all by himself in a tiny tavern in Chantel. He was surprised to find Avis Rara buying him a drink, and more surprised still to find I had spotted him for the Dragon he was.

"It's the ears," I told him. "Youkai, Faeries, and Dragons all have those same pointed ears. Since I don't think youkai often come mull over drinks here, and presumably Faeries don't drink, I assumed you were the only option left." This wasn't how I'd known, but it was a good enough excuse for the slightly intoxicated man. "What's your name?"

"'t's Kai-stern." He was slurring his words just the barest amount, but I did not think he was as drunk as he was pretending to be. At least he had the sense to be suspicious of anyone who knew youkai well enough to know they had pointed ears. I did not offer my name in return, but pushed his glass genially closer as I took a seat beside him. "You are not going to sta-start in with some sob story are you?" He gave me a half-hearted glare out of the corner of his impossibly pale eye.

"No, I don't think so. Actually," I grinned and he took a long draught of his glass, "I was hoping you might tell me some things." The sounds of the other bar-goers holding lilting conversations amongst each other was almost a calming background hum, and for a moment, I found the dim light and the dark wooden walls attractive. He sighed into the white hand holding his chin aloft. "I've heard that you've inducted a new Fire Knight. Is he is helpful to you Dragons?" I wondered if he heard the twinge of sarcasm buried deeply in my words, but I think he didn't—the Lefuryhelio he was downing like a dying man must have been severely affecting his system.

"He's-" he hiccupped softly, "He's so muchtrouble! Chasin' him all over. And the kid doesn't follow anybodyelseas much as me. 'eegi scares him, 'uwalk's always too busy and I think, jus' my opinion," he whispered conspiratorially to me, "I think 'uwalk's a littlekinda afraid of him." The names meant nothing to me, but the fact that Ruin and this man personally knew each other was encouraging, and I knew exactly what he was saying when he hinted that one of the mysterious men he'd mentioned was afraid of Ruin. Surely he'd seen the destruction my tiny child could make. "'uwalk's the one that took theblowback when… back…" He frowned deeply, narrowing light eyes for a moment. "I don't think I'msupposed to talk abou' that."

"Probably not," I ordered him another glass.

"But ya'know, he's a good kid." His frown was replaced by a warm and wobbly grin that betrayed exactly how many drinks he'd already had. Turning to toast me (I had no glass to return the gesture) he continued, "Weird obsisson-obsusseen-obsession! with hunting demons. Waves his sword around-" he hiccupped again, "-like he was bornwithit in his hand." He practically was. "Still, he's a real… a real good kid. Lord Lykou-leon-" he stumbled on the long name, "-loves him a lot, Icantell. An' the Queen adores him." He smiled, a happy genuine smile that surprised me. He seemed actually to like Ruin. They loved him? I couldn't imagine it, and it spoiled my appetite to hear more from the strange man. "Oi," he mumbled, looking at me with a sudden seriousness, "Why'd you want to know?" The suspicious edge was back in his eyes, and I felt now was the time for me to leave, before he could cause a stir. "And," he looked at my hands crossed over my empty part of the bar, "You didn't get anything to drink…"

"Liquor doesn't sit well with me." I smiled, that infamous enigmatic smile that has caused so many to believe I delight in playing games with people. With agrip I forced to remain loose and friendly, I clasped my hand on his shoulder. He never expected the ash that came with it, and I watched, pleased, as he collapsed onto the bar, utterly unconscious. Undoubtedly, he would wake the next day with a ringing headache and no recollection of anything but getting drunk.

I left the bar, feeling tired and uncomfortable. I could not believe that the Dragon Tribe would openly welcome a demon into their midst, especially the demon that had ripped their kingdom to shreds. It did not make sense! I refused to believe it. He was drunk, he was crazy, he was lying. They did not love him. They did not love him, deserve him, like I did! For a moment, I wondered why I had not simply killed the albino there in the bar. It might have spared me a bit of a trouble. But I did not know then that he and I were going to meet again, so soon. That night, it was simply too much work to kill someone and get away unnoticed. And, as much as I wanted to send their entire castle crumbling to dust, killing this one man (I thought) would not have changed anything—I would be no closer to retrieving Ruin. He was lucky, lucky he'd spoken of my child so kindly, lucky I was in such a benevolent mood.

The next time we met, I count as the worst memory of my life. Even simply remembering it sets my teeth on edge, and the pain it brings my heart can drown out all the pain of my dying. It happened in the Snowy Mountains, and it was the greatest mistake I have ever made. Greater than losing the soul—what I did there damaged not only Ruin, but any future that could have been.

I waited seven years and three months, and then I could not wait any longer. Why I had even held myself back so long, I do not know. I assured myself that I had simply never had the opportunity before, but that was a lie. Two years before, when I'd met that man, Kai-stern, in the bar, he had told me exactly how I could bring Ruin back. The boy loved killing demons—I could easily draw him out of the castle with a few well-placed rumors. I had learned how quickly they could spread. Yet, I did not act. Secretly, I would never have admitted to myself, it was because of the Star Princess. As much as I had hated her request, the selfless and desperate way she begged me was moving. Maybe, some part of me was afraid to betray her kindness. Then again, maybe I was only afraid of being harmed, of losing Ruin once more.

It was delightfully easy work to filter the rumors of a demon on the mountain into the Dragon Castle. Avis Rara told a pair of Fighters, with a terrified, trembling voice, and then sat back and watched it rage like wildfire through the ranks. Of course, they tried to keep it a secret from Ruin—but in trying, ended up revealing it to him sooner than if they had not tried to hide it at all. It wasn't long before he was looking for every opportunity he could to escape the watchful eyes of the castle staff. And it was not long after he began to search for an escaperoute that a way presented itself—and he slipped within my reach for first time since his birth.

When that day began, bright but nowhere near warm, I felt the weather could not be any more perfect for the reunion I had so desperately waited for. It was cold, clear, and the sun shone on the snow in a way that dazzled me. I actually found the Snowy Mountains beautiful once. My breath rose in a light mist that even my strong eyes could barely see in the glistening light, and only a few distant clouds marred the near perfection of the sky above me. When I had first settled myself on the mountain, hardly off the trail I was sure he would use, it had been dawn, an unusually red dawn, and though it had irked me, I had forgotten it. Nothing was going to go wrong. This scarlet sunrise was only a weather phenomenon, nothing more. I had become so clever at deception that fooling myself was simple.

I am not a patient person; my very nature is as restless and flighty as a bird's, and sitting on an uneven rock in the cold, waiting for a child who may or may not actually take the most direct path up the mountain (depending on how many interesting distractions managed to snare his attention), irked me. My mind wandered where my feet did not, playing the scene over and over in my mind. He would come to me, undoubtedly with his four-legged companions in tow. These would be a concern—the Dragon would naturally be able to sense my baser youkai nature, and the Dragon Dog, keen nosed, was even more likely to pin-point me for the enemy I was. I would have to eliminate the threat they posed without causing Ruin worry, a feat I was not sure I would be able to accomplish. And even if I managed to keep them from causing a scene, I could not imagine what I would say to my child. There were a hundred things, a thousand that I wanted to say to him. I love you…

I dreamed that I would take him easily into my hold and fly from the country of my enemies without any struggle. Before that day, I could not imagine Ruin caring about the creatures who had imprisoned him—maybe I was only lying further to myself, maybe I was only wildly hoping, but I dreamed that Ruin might remember me, might find my soul familiar, might have (maybe, in just the slightest) missed me as I had missed him. Can you see how easily I imagined taking him in my arms as I had once done, feeling his heartbeat languidly in time with my own, the part of my heart that was a part of his... I watched the snow sparkle and dreamed of happiness. It was like begging to have my hopes shattered! I might as well have thrown my imaginings off the side of the mountain for all they were worth.

"Look at us! The cold can't stop us, nothing can stop us!" It was his voice, for the first time, ringing in my ears. The trees still separated us, far too many of them, but the high cold air let me hear him. The sound was young, so much younger than I ever expected him to sound, but warm. I could not help but smile—his voice, if nothing else, was the voice I had always wanted Ruin to have, alight with an inner fire and infinitely happy. He was still the innocent I longed to teach, the pure enthusiasm in his words told me this easily, and I longed to see the face he had taken on more than ever. With a delicate wave of my hand, I sent the birds away. If he was anything like me, the novelty of such creatures would snare his attention.

"We have a Dragon Dog and a Fire Dragon! And of course, I'm the Dragon Knight of Fire. Plus, I know how to use ice magic. We're gonna kick butt!" He giggled, a sound that carried over the clear air to me and warmed some of the fear I had—a laugh this kind was not a polluted soul. Dragon's Blood or not, Ruin's soul was still that of an unboundchild. "A bird?" As I expected, the creatures enthralled him; I could hear the curiosity light like a flame in his voice. "Sugoi!(2) They're huuuge! And there's two! Let's follow them, come on guys!" Something happened that I could not see—there was a moment of still silence and then he laughed, melodiously. The sound carried over the snow as a tangible innocence, an utter disregard for darkness and worry, an unadulterated warmth. "Oh, we can handle that! We're a mighty army remember? Now come on, they went that way!"

He was achingly close: I could hear the crunch of his boots in the thick white drifts, the brush of his cloth against the trunks of trees as he raced, unwittingly, toward me. I could feel my own heart beating almost painfully against my ribs and anticipation drove all sense of the chill from my fingers and feet. I stood, gathering my cloak, and waited the long few seconds for him to reach me.

"Uh?" He froze, I froze, the clouds in the red sky ceased to move for a moment as I met the crimson eyes of my son for the first time. How could I ever hope to explain the feeling? Bliss and bitterness, euphoria and despair, everything my heart could feel I felt, looking at him, and the feeling itself was so powerful a pressure I was sure I might succumb to it and weep.

"Why hello there, little one." I said what I could, and no words could convey in the slightest the depth to which his beating heart shook me. You do not know, you cannot comprehend the natural, unconditional love a creator, no a father, a mother, has for his child—he was mine! I, I had brought this creature, so perfect to life! His laughter, purity, impossibly warm and open eyes… All this was mine, a part of me, and I became wholly fascinated with him. He was a tiny demon of his own right—and though I had always known that was what he would be, I could almost not believe it now. He had a heart, a conscience, knowledge, thoughts, dreams, and I was responsible for something this intrinsically beautiful? I loved him instantly and completely.

I had adored Ruin, the empty heart and mind, I had even adored the broken soul I had almost lost mine to create, but for this tiny new being before me, I had a feeling a million times greater: he was alive, he could run, breathe, listen and speak, could say he loved me… I knew, without having to deliberate on it for a moment, that even if he were eternally my enemy, I would protect him, try always to make him happy.

But do you see? In my selfishness, I mistook his happiness for my own. I convinced myself that the Dragons were chaining him, cutting his wings. I convinced myself he would be happy with me—but he never was! I wanted, in that moment, nothing more than to reach out and touch him, to prove that this was not some desperate imagining on my part, that even if it was a Dragon that had gotten a hold of him, he was still real… But, at first, I could not. I could not make myself move from where I stood—because as much as I wanted to believe I was looking at the being I had worked so hard to bring to life, I was not.

"Who are you? Do I know you?" This boy, this soul that should have been so much, was not Ruin. The body he was using was coursing with pure power; the dog beside him surveyed me with wary eye, knowing instantly what I was. Silently, I simply watched him, taking in every tiny detail of my child as if I was a mother reaching out for heryoung the first time. This body was not what I had intended. His hair was too dark, a sharp black that made his skin seem far paler than it actually was. There was a single white plume in it however, that pleased me—it was as light white as the roots of my own hair, and I wondered briefly if the streak had been my fault or Illuser's. For the years he had lived, he seemed unduly fragile, and I was reminded of another powerful being who I had worried for, whose life somehow had become tangled in happiness of demons... Still, his eyes were utterly and completely mine, unchanged by whatever the Dragon Tribe had poured into his blood. They were crimson, as vibrant, wide and alive as I always wanted them to be. Eyes, it seems to me, are statements about the type of people behind them—and the fiery irises I had given Ruin betrayed the torridity of his nature.

I could not simply let the silence lie, for fear of more than his departing, and at least, I was moved to answer his question. Do I know you? "You don't recognize me?" I tried to smile, but it came across unsure and cold. It hurt me, almost physically, that he had absolutely no memory of me… He had reached out for me so desperately the night he had been born, and now he could not place my face even in the vaguest of memories? "You should. All little boys should remember their mothers. Aa, perhaps I should say that another way…" But I could not bring myself to correct the slip of my tongue. As strange it was to think about, I was the one who had given Ruin life. I had given my flesh and blood and heart to bring him into this world, and I had intended all along to raise him with all the care I had never known myself: unconditional love can teach even a demon kindness and gentility.

Ruin had never been a project, an experiment. He had never been a game or a mild curiosity to me. Since the moment I had dreamed his existance, Ruin had been a equal, a successor, a family—for him, the word "creation" would never have sufficed. My role in his life was never meant to be that of "creator". What was I then? Father, mother, the terms held little meaning to me and neither seemed to truly describe how tightly I held onto the bond between us—I certainly loved him more than any true youkai parent ever would have.

If I thought my manner of saying things would confuse him, or shake him, it did not. Only his companions seemed to grow unsettled, and the Dragon Dog growled deeply at me, as if warning menot toremain so close to his friend. The tiny boy in front of me only blinked his impossibly wide eyes and begged again,

"Who are you?" There was no fear in the tone, and he seemed oblivious to any danger he might be heading right into. There was also no indication on his childish face that he knew how much harm his words were causing me. How could he not remember? How could he remember nothing? Was I simply that unimportant to him, that easy to leave? How could he not love me when I cared so much for him? I had to know, as much as I knew it would pain me. I had to hear for myself what Ruin had become… The urge to examine the body he had been given, the need to hold my child became almost too much to bear. I approached him slowly, gently, fearing any sudden movement might startle him and his obviously suspicious companions.

"No, the question is… Who are you?" And as I reached, unsure and wary to feel this living being that was my scion, he said the only words that could have broken my heart further.

"Rath Illuser." It was like being stabbed. Rath? Of course I knew they must have given him another name, but hearing it, knowing that he went by it… It cut me deeply, and I felt bitterness bite again. This name did not belong to the soul, to the child I had given life. This awful name was farce, a lie, something that belonged solely to the body those Dragons had chained him in.

"Who gave you that name? That's a Dragon name."

"Yes, I'm a member of the Dragon Tribe!" It was then that I truly realized, felt as if I had been utterly destroyed, that things were not right. This was not Ruin. My son had not survived when his soul had fled me. Ruin was dead—and from his ashes had risen a being that was the impossible amalgam of Light and Darkness. A merging of opposites that should never have been possible. This was Rath Illuser, the Dragon Lord who was the son of a demon. My love for him was not lessened, but suddenly I pitied him, and I pitied myself.

I reached out to touch him, hoping to alleviate some of the agony of knowing things truly were un-repairable, but I found no solace in the motion—the moment my hand made contact with his shoulder I was rebuked, burnt by a force I did not understand. It was Dragon magic, I sensed it immediately, and hatred and horror struck me simultaneously. I could not even touch him? I could not even reach out my arms to the child who should have been clinging to my side! The Dragon Lord would not even allow me that little thing? I did not know if I wanted to plead with the omnipotent man or strike him dead. How heartless could this Dragon Lord be, to deny me the one tiny thing that might have given my mind some peace? At that time, I did not understand. I knew what was causing my pain, but not its purpose. It seemed to me only an instrument to keep Rath farther from me.

I should have realized it, but I was simply too far gone in my own emotions to think analytically about the situation. The Light Dragon Amulet was not really to keep Rath from other demons, but to keep him from himself—the undiluted Dragon blood and flesh did not work in conjunction with his youkai soul. Without the amulet, his body and soul simply could not function together. He was pulling himself apart from the inside out, and that pendant was sealing away his youki enough to keep him conscious. Just another of the no other way situations associated with Rath. Of course, with my head so clouded with righteous indignation, I could not possibly have been expected to perceive this—I only became hurt and furious.

"What do you mean 'Who gave you that name'? Did I have a different name before?" Rath stared up at me, oblivious to the pain his charm had caused, innocent of all that was going on behind my stony eyes. It was hard to find my thoughts, I found myself simply turning the same things over and over. How had this happened? Why?

"Yes, as a matter of fact, you did. It was a long time ago…" For Rath, it was a time so long ago he could not remember it, before his birth in the form he wore… But for me, it seemed like only days since I had christened the tiny child in my arms. "Such a shame." I did not know what else to say, and no words sufficed to explain to Rath just how much pain seeing him this way, knowing that he did not know me, caused. I felt that I had to do something, anything to take a step forward in this stand still, frozen situation.

"I am Kharl, the alchemist." It changed nothing, but I wanted Rath to know me, more than anything else, I wanted to have back the soul that had looked to me for help.

"Alchemist?" Even his naïve curiosity caused a twinge in my heart, and in the hand that was not extended to him, my fingers clenched uncomfortably. What more could I think but how fallacious this entire affair was? I hated it all, hated seeing him this way and still loving him, hated not being ableto close the barest inch between us, hated the fact that I remembered everything… But more than anything else, I felt my heart pounding in my ears, felt my fangs breaking the delicate skin on my bottom lip, felt the jarring pain lingering in my hand, and I knew a hatred entirely too intense.

I hated the Dragon Lord. I hated their entire clan, and everything their glorious castle stood for—to me it was all a pack of lies. The Dragon Clan was thieving, cruel and deceiving. They put up the shining façade of perfection, but I could easily see through it. They were nothing but fools with swords and ambition. What did it matter if a few demons like Rath and I suffered? Nothing, if they accomplished their long term goal: peace. At the time it was almost laughable. Their peace turned a blind eye to lives lost on both sides. If humans died they were martyrs; if youkai died they were just more of the enemy, whether or not they had ever harmed the Dragon Tribe.

I kept my youki purposely low, weakly hoping not to frighten Rath, but I knew that now that was out of the question. I could not let my son be held from me this way. I could not just sit by, content to watch and hear the vaguest of rumors. I would save him. I would burn out the pollution they'd poured into his veins. I would return Ruin –Rath– to the state he was meant to have. No amulet, no Dragon blood could keep him from me.

"It means I create souls." I answered his question carefully, a response planned and prepared to trigger exactly the reaction I needed. My youki spiked, and the Dragon Dog felt it where Rath seemed oblivious. Crewger openly snarled at me, I smelt the lancing fear in the air. "Like the soul of a demon." There was no time to go further with introductions, no time to explain—I reached out and snatched Rath. I did not mean to be so rough, but had no choice, as the Amulet tried to repel me the instant I made contact.

The pain was intense and instant. He twisted in my grip, frightened and uncomfortable, and I concealed just how much panic was slipping into my own system. I never imagined direct contact with him would hurt this much—it felt as if my flesh was burning in my gloves.

"Demon!" he cried, "Are you a demon?" The Dragon Dog howled his frustration, but the excessive youki I was exerting and the sparking and snapping Blood Barrier crushed his power. I had to lift my other hand to keep my hold onRath's coat.

"Of course. Thank you for not noticing. It demonstrates how much you and I have in common." His naiveté was charming, but that was not what I was commenting on. What I had said was really a spiteful insult to the tribe he now happily claimed to be member of—perhaps he had failed to notice I was a youkai because demons and Dragons look the same. Pointed ears, fangs, unnatural auras… Thank you for not noticing. If I hadn't known you were a demon, I wouldn't have pegged you for one either. The irony of his appearance rubbed salt into my open wounds. I felt the power shattering the air between us, and though I schooled my face into a false smile, I could do nothing to hide the beads of sweat sliding down my temple.

If anything, the defensive barrier only grew stronger, thickening the air and burning acridly. I struggled to maintain my hold, youki rising another notch. Nausea, from the sudden exertion and clash of powers, turned my stomach. He screamed as if he felt it too, a raw and horrible sound to my ears, and the powers spiraled to a snap. The cord broke, and fearing prolonged contact, I flicked it to Left Bird, who cast it aside into the snow. Rath fell limp in my arms, and the pain that still lingered from the amulet faded in the feeling of holding my child. It made me warm and benevolent, and for a few moments, I forgot that he was a Dragon and reveled in being able to hear his faint breath and feel his heart beat.

"It doesn't matter what you are called now. I know who you really are. I know what you really are." My beautiful son, my most precious endeavor, the child I would give my heart to keep alive, to save. "We've been apart for so long." What had they taught him? What poisonous lies had they filled his head with? How many had he killed, watched them kill, because they given him a sword and let him play warrior? "Much too long for precious demon like you." I made a silent promise that I would return him not only to the form he should have had, but grant him a peace the Dragon Tribe had never managed to. For a moment, holding him was almost enough to bring back the true happiness I had felt holding Ruin. But nothing could make me forget the scent of Dragon's blood in his veins.

"I could kill you right now, you a king of Dusis… Just like the king of Arinas, trying to steal everything from me." It was to Rath and not, as I listened to the slow rise and fall of his breath and darkened at the thought that he could ever be a Dragon Lord, could ever play the beloved prince to the man who had strived to strip away from me the one thing I truly loved. "Do you understand how much that irritates me?"

I had to drive this Dragon Blood out of him, had to restore singularity to his nature. I had to free the youkai and destroy the Dragon in him. I released the Demon Seed carefully—not into him directly, where the contrasting power would have caused him damage, but beneath us, using my youki to spark its growth. I was beginning to tire, unsteady after having to cope with the amulet, but my power was no less stable and perfectly allotted than it normally was. Still, I was not willing to make even the slightest mistake, so I called on the birds to aide me. Demonic energy flooded the forest, almost palpable in the air. The Demon Seed grew wildly without needing my interference at all. I remember smiling, a pure happy smile—every single thing was perfect. Soon I would have the angel in my reach again.

"Raaaath!" A concerned shout and the heavy rustle of brush struck me, and I knew immediately, in a feeling that stilled my heart for a beat, that things were about to become much less perfect. If I was surprised at who came stumbling into the clearing, I don't recall it. Of course it would be that strange man –I had almost forgotten his name– who had spoken so conspiratorially of my son. Kai-stern, Blue Dragon Officer. Of course he would be the one to find Rath, Fate seems to love playing tricks on me. I should have killed him the night I met him; I cursed myself mentally for being so generous. If I had only… But, in the end, I am glad I did not kill him in the bar or in the mountains—because he saved Rath, protected Rath were I failed. I should say that I owe him a great deal of thanks. At that time however, I remember hating him instantly, for things he had never done, hating him for being what he could not help being. Dragon! All my senses screamed to me, and for a moment even Rath was forgotten. I wanted nothing more than to see this Dragon Officer hurt, destroyed—I wish I had not felt so violent, had thought more clearly. If I had not been so blinded by my cruelty perhaps I could have understood Rath's feelings. Perhaps I could have prevented the worst mistake of them all.

"What the hell?" The white-haired man stared at Rath, encased in the swiftly spreading Demon Seed. In his light eyes, I saw a grain of fear that only incensed me. Coward, I couldn't help but think, Don't face with me with such a stupid look. His eyes only widened, confused, at the birds, and finally, his impossibly pale gaze lit on me.

"Sorry, but Rath can't come out to play." The sarcasm and antipathy in my voice could not have been more evident. He twitched visibly, turning to look more fully at me. His hands, clad in black leather gloves, clenched into fists. A cruel smile snuck its way across my lips. "I'm taking back that which was mine. By name, Rath." A bead of sweat slipped down his forehead, and he wrapped his arms around himself in the attempt to physically block out the oppressive youki.

"Taking back? Yours?" He queried in a voice that projected a nonchalance I knew he was not in possession of. I could have laughed.

"Don't miss a beat, do you? Rath has great power inside of him. It will be brought to the surface, once I've infused this body with demon powers." He did not understand me obviously, and his wide-eyed stare, far too expressive stare, was hard to meet. The sheer audacity of his simply being there suddenly irked me, and I raised my hand and sent a single shot of undiluted demonic energy at him. It struck his arm and sent him skittering backward. Not as far as I had hoped –he slammed into a tree and braced himself there, pouring filthy Dragon's blood across the pure white snow. As if the Dragon's very presence had lightened my power over the area, Crewger shook off his stupor and stood defensively beside the light-haired man, growling his displeasure. The cold air misted both of their breaths, and I walked him draw his sword. Where his body had not shown it, the sword blade clearly betrayed his trembling. Like any youkai, instinct raged in me, and the weakness in my prey invigorated me.

"I've only given Rath a couple Demon Seeds. Just enough to get him to sprout a few more arms and start breathing fire. What's wrong with that?" It was an utter lie (I would never have disfigured Rath in any way), a clever little comment, but he must not have known the rumors the Demon Army had spread about Rath. I was delighted when it struck home with him, making his eyes darken with indignant rage. Oh, so he thought he was going to save Rath from me? It was too ironic, and it made my fingers tighten into fists reflexively. I could feel my claws threatening to rip the delicate cloth. Despite his open wound he was so enraged he forced himself at me again, raising that flimsy sword as if it were his lifeline. I let myself fall back, feet instinctively finding all the right places to keep me just out of his reach. He pushed forward with the steel, and not willing to move any further, I opened an separate dimension in my palm, setting the exit in line behind him.

The phenomenon is called "temporal displacement", shifting something on an alternate plane that is simultaneously shifting on an original plane. I don't think he would have cared in the slightest for this information, but it might have diffused his shock at being stabbed by his own weapon. Having the same arm struck twice could not have felt at all pleasant, and as the blade slid through his flesh he jerked backward. The opening he created was filled by the Snow dog, who leapt at me, fangs bared. Instantly I lifted a guarding arm, using youki to throw him off. With a howl and a whimper he rolled through the snow. Foolishly, he clambered to his four feet again, swaying on the spot.

"Sorry, I should have mentioned this: your attacks are useless against me." He was panting, heavy breaths that clouded misty in the frigid air. His face was decorated with icy sweat that looked sickly over pale skin so flushed from the cold. But he was looking more over my shoulder than at me, eyeing the Demon Seed vines with a deep seated concern that unsettled me. He was not supposed to worry for Rath. He was not supposed to love him… "Rath is reverting to his demon state." The original state, the state before you bound and chained him! That jerked his attention away from the vines fast enough. "It's the birds, you see. Left Bird clouds your mind and Right Bird weakens you physically. As long as I have them, your attacks will be rather pointless." He stood still, blood dripping down the sleeve of his coat and pooling around his glove. "Of course, there's Honou(3)… Except without Rath you can't even get him to fetch, can you?"

The fire dragon lay prone in the snow, helpless against the oppressive power of birds and I. Without his master, destined or not, he was useless. Perhaps it was the knowledge that their best weapons were powerless before me, perhaps it was simply the astounded and defenseless look on the Dragon Officer's face, perhaps it was even the feeling of Rath's own youki flaring up, testing its boundaries, behind me, but suddenly I could not help but feel as if I had won, had succeeded. I began to laugh, a sound colored dark by my hatred of the Dragon Tribe and the irony that had caught Rath and I up.

The entire clearing lit with the power of the Birds' and Rath's youki, and I felt it course through the surrounding arealike raging fire. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I shivered in delight at the feeling. The Dragon and I watched on as the Demon Seed dissolved, revealing Rath to me. Only the word beautiful can suffice. He had grown, an unexpected but unimportant side effect of the intense power flowing into him, and his skin was pale and unmarred. But what I found most entrancing were his wings, immense and blacker than I could ever have imagined. Not a feather rose out of place; ebony spilled around his shoulders and beyond. The very fibers of each feather, more delicate than I had pictured them, astounded me, ensnared me, and I wondered if anything in this world could be more perfect, more simply exquisite. Nothing, I knew, I know, Nothing can come close to being worthy of him. Maybe every parent thinks this of their child… But as Rath fell slowly into my arms, I truly believed it. I still believe it.

His eyes were closed, shadowed by his wispy black hair, and I admired for a moment the way his long obsidian eyelashes stood out so boldly on his white skin. With hands I forced to stay steady, I reached, and with the barest of touches, caressed his cheeks. To be this close, to feel his warm breath against my hands was rapture. I thought then if I could only keep him by me forever, I would never be able to feel pain, I would never know suffering… Then as if mocking even further, that too was stripped from me—I was thrown back from him by a light, too bright, a burning force that I felt before I saw it.

"What? What is this?" My voice was meek, strange sounding to my ears, and I felt the snow melting into my clothing where I kneeled on the ground, too stunned to pick myself up. Some force was keeping me from being near him; though I had brought his Demon blood far to the fore, someone was protecting him from my power… The light burnt brighter, solidified, spiraled around Rath and illuminated the area with a golden glow that glittered against the snow and lengthened all the shadows. From the brilliance the angular face of a dragon emerged, golden eyes bearing down in a manner that made me feel insignificant and furious. "The Light dragon?" Why had I not thought of it earlier? Of course, Fire was only an added ability—with the Dragon Lord's blood inside him, Rath would naturally be considered a master of Shin(3)... My thoughts were broken roughly by a voice that chilled me far more than the snow could.

"Stop…it…" The sound was rough, hissed, inhuman. It was almost as if it did not belong to Rath at all but someone else, inconstant and trembling; it sounded very much like the unfiltered voice of a soul. Ruin! "Don't… awaken me… Leave… me… alone!" But it couldn't be! How could he rebuke me? How could he not remember! Why? Don't you remember that I love you? "I want to forget. Let me forget." He could not have chosen crueler words—five syllables were enough to scar me, break me down. He didn't mean it, couldn't possibly… Ruin would never hate me, why would he? It was the Dragons, had to be them! They had polluted him, had confused his mind, affected him in ways I could not have foreseen! For a moment Rath's crimson eyes, pupils dilated, met mine, and I could not read them. Fear? But for what reason? Then, as if he could not bear to look at me, he turned away, hiding again behind the tangible light that separated us.

"It's one of your bloody guardian dragons!" I was sure in my belief at that time: Rath was acting the way he was because the Dragons had changed him, chained him, corrupted him. I would save him, I would bring him home and fix him, heal him… The only thing in my way was the golden light, an unbreaking barrier between my son and I. I let the youki bloom, violent and strong, in my palm. I would kill the dragon and unshackle Rath. I would burn all the Dragon's blood from him, harmonize him, restore the wings those idiots in their falsely peaceful castle had cut away.

"I'm sorry but I can't let you do that!" The officer whose presence I had almost forgotten threw himself at me, using his sword to cut and deflect my power. Undoubtedly it was causing him some harm—being in contact with unadulterated demonic energy is as smart as drinking poison.

"Fool." I hissed, disliking the feel of his sword so close to my flesh. "Left Bird, Right Bird!" I called furiously, using youki to push his weapon back, "Distract Rath, then kill the dragon."

"I told you I won't allow it!" The white-haired man struck viciously, forcing me to step back. A crooked sneer lit on my face, and I remember thinking that Rath was mine, soul and mind. His existence was due to me—I was not about to hand him over to some fool and his breed of demon slayers. Things were shifting, the youki around us rose and fell, rippling like the fluid surface of a pond being jostled by an earthquake. When the Light dragon was pulled back into Rath, I thought for a second I had won, overcome their strange magic, but the truth was far from that. He began to cry.

Sobbing, tears, these things were not unknown to me, but to see; it was horrible in a way you could not possibly understand. Rath was suffering and there was nothing I could do to stop it! I felt helpless, foolish… I could only watch in blank awe as tears (can I call them that?) stained his pale cheeks. And then amid the unsure tempest-like energies, he screamed, a feral agonizing sound—too much like the howl of the broken soul that night! I shut my eyes for the barest of moments, tried desperately to drown out the noise—I should not have been so weak, I should have watched. Maybe I could have… It was in that barest moment when I stopped looking that I felt a familiar youki flare, and die. Frightened, I ripped my eyes open again, frantic to prove my senses wrong. What I saw froze me completely, snatching away my breath and heartbeat: in his claws, Rath held the shreds of my beloved Left Bird. Black feathers that seemed suddenly to cruelly mimic each other fell around us, wet with blood. They marred the snow where they drifted, looking innocent and terrible. My companion, my aide, my masterful sculptor, torn to pieces in a second of needless violence.

My stomach turned, it took nearly all my strength to remain standing. Dead. He killed Left Bird. I thought I might be simultaneously numb and nauseous. I could not even lift my feet to move, I was so lost in the surge of emotion that clouded everything. Sadness, rage, fear, confusion… Rath fell into the Dragon's hold, and I did nothing to stop it. The demonic power faded, and his feathers fell one by one to join Left Bird's in the pristine white carpeting. He murdered my— I could not even gather my thoughts. My most cherished gift, the last artifacts of my Master, the man who had saved me… The very embodiment of my power, and he had struck Left Bird down as if it were nothing. As if the things I loved meant nothing. As if I meant nothing. Was he so far gone? Did he have absolutely no care for me? You hate me that much? Enough to destroy part of the power that brought you life, enough to take from me something precious?

The Dragons were all the same—thieves, murderers! And now Rath had truly become one of them. He had stolen from me another part of my heart—it meant nothing to him. The Dragon Officer watched me, clinging to my child as if Rath was his own, and I could see the fear in his gaze. It was if he was begging me to leave them in peace, to leave Rath in peace, to stop trying to kidnap him from their grip. It wasn't right, it made no sense, he loved him, and I couldn't stand to be looked at in that manner: as if I was some evil creature who had meant to harm Rath. Thoughts ran back and forth in my mind so fast I could grasp none of them. Left Bird was gone, Rath hated me, I had done something wrong? I could not bear to look at the pair of them in the snow, mangled and stained.

"Let's go." I murmured it, to Right Bird, my only remaining comfort, and I turned. I could not bear to think… Rath had chosen the Dragon Tribe over me. Over me. I was in shock, I could feel it, and I knew that later everything would hurt a hundred times worse. I wanted to go home, I wanted to sleep. If I forced myself into dreamless sleep, I could so easily pretend none of this had happened, none of this… His tears are blood.

I should have sensed her ahead of time, I should have been able to note her presence, but my mind was so lost to the world that I would not have sensed the Dragon Lord had he been a foot from me. She was standing with her back to a gnarled pine tree, and one of her pink locks had haphazardly become tangled in the jagged bark. Her hands were folded neatly in front of her, and I wondered at the delicate air she managed even in such as terrible moment. At last, when I knew it could not be helped, I met her eyes. The roseate gaze hurt, hurt in a way I could never hope to explain. Sorrow, condemnation, anguish… She knew, knew that I had done the very thing she had warned me not to. Worse, she had known all along that I would suffer this event, that Rath would hate me, that I would lose everything. She had foreseen it andtried so hopelessly to stop me… And now her eyes told me that she was not angry—but that she pitied me! I saw in herglance not sympathy but some lesser emotion; to her was I some foolish little animal, incapable of looking beyond the end of my nose?

She did not speak to me, and she did not cry. Under her gaze I begged with my eyes for either, begged that she scold me, begged that she show me something besides pity and agony… I wanted to be given a chance to justify my actions, but the chance was not granted. Instead she only watched me, gaze too steady and sad for such a pretty face. I dropped my eyes as I passed her. I was not strong enough to stand condemnation, not strong enough to admit… I felt guilty. Please, I didn't mean to, I only wanted, it wasn't my— Had I done something wrong? Had I caused pain? I never meant to… Was losing Ruin –Rath– my fault, was losing Left Bird on my conscience too? Had I misunderstood everything? I could not bring myself to stop, to tell her what I had intended, to ask her to forgive me, to ask her if I had just shaken the future of the world… Regret tightened my throat, stung my eyes, and I shivered from a cold that was internal. It would hurt my dignity to say I ran from her and from Rath, broken and bloody, but I did. I ran because I had been foolish, because I was terrified, hurt, alone, because more than anything, I was afraid of being hated…

When I reached the castle again, I stood on the front steps for a long while before I brought my hand to the door. It had been cold in Dusis, but here the weather was perfect, the sun as bright and golden as the Light dragon's hide. It made me even sicker. How could the sun shine so steadily, as if my life had not just been shattered into a million tiny pieces? I did not enter. I did not want to find you smiling and happy. I did not want to explain anything. I did not want to remember… But standing there, I could do nothing but think about the blood in his eyes and the anguish in hers. My heart began to pound, and I knew that soon I would have to face the true pain of all that happened. This guilt now, this sense of loss would be nothing. Like a hammer, the true weight of things was going to fall and crush me.

I avoided you when I finally entered the castle, silencing my footsteps and moving faster than I needed to. I had expended so much power, my body was teetering between consciousness and sleep—but even so, I think it was my soul that was the weariest. None of it made sense to me, everything seemed painted in a despair blacker than nightfall, blacker than the feathers of his wings... My heart hurt, a pain awful enough to be physical. It was as if, with his immaculate hands, the Dragon Lord had torn me limb from limb—emptied me of everything, taken my heart in his fingers and ripped it apart vein by vein. I collapsed on my bed, counting the knots in the wooden rafters with half-lidded eyes that saw but didn't. Strands of my hair ghosted across my pillow and cheeks, like spiders' legs. For a moment I tried to listen to my uneven breath, but the quavering sound only reminded me of Rath, of ruin.

I knew that I was sobbing before I felt it, and I was powerless to stop myself. Whimpers shook me and worked their way between the fangs I obstinately dug into my bottom lip. It was all I could do to keep my body from curling into the smallest ball possible and pulling the blankets over my head. I don't know when I started to howl, my ears did not seem to function, but it must have been a truly ear-splitting sound. What was I screaming at? The injustice, the irony, the idiocy? It was everything, Rath, the Dragons, the Star Princess—I raged and sobbed about every cruelty, every unkind turn God had permitted…

My voice strained, broke, I could not stand laying so still. I struck out wildly and tore my fine pillows and blankets to ribbons. Whatever youki left in me seemed enough to cause destruction: the wall torches leapt and roared with blue flame that ate through the wood in seconds. The high and fine glass window shattered, filling the room with glass and scraps of the thick drapes. Goose feathers from my pillows fluttered unsure through the air, their soft white color mocking my own feathers. I wrapped my hands protectively around myself, intent of blocking out the world, but I only succeeded in shredding the sleeves of my shirt, ruining something else…

I didn't even hear your footsteps until you pushed open the door I had failed to lock. I felt you cross the room, gingerly stepping around the mess I'd made. You stood beside my bed, silently, and I tried desperately to still my sobs, if only to preserve some of the respect you might have held for me.

"Left Bird did not return." Your voice sounded suddenly much older, kinder than it normally did, and I was reminded that as childish as you looked, your mind was that of a man who had lived many lifetimes. The reserve and tact with which you handled me, I have always been envious of. You did not ask where I had gone, who I had faced, what had caused this sudden panic. You did not tell me things were going to be fine—because instinctively you knew they would not. You knew what we had lost. For your silent acceptance I was infinitely grateful. I dropped my head into my hands and marveled at the dryness of my cheeks. Not a single tear, as if I could not shed them. Tears of blood… I forced the memory away, forced away all the black despairthat meeting had taught me...

"I hate them, I hate them all." My voice was muffled and cold in my ripped gloves.

"So you come back here and take out your anger on the furniture?" The indignation in your voice felt strange and out of place for the moment, but not in a way that bothered me. With a deft hand, you lifted up the tattered remains of a pillowcase for me to see. "Do you know how hard it is to patch satin?" I could not help it, I laughed. Not a merry sound, but a wry, unpleasant chuckle. Your effort was at least worthy of that. All the pouting anger drained from your eyes, and you shook your head, long black strands dancing back and forth languidly.

You looked at me seriously, and I returned the look as levelly as I could. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself—someone your age ought to have better control!" You crossed your arms over your tiny form and huffed. "Crying looks really stupid on a grown-up." I sniffed childishly, feeling foolish and immature for letting my anguish take me over so completely. You turned and walked away, undoubtedly tofind the things you would need to clean up the mess I'd made. I blinked once as you hovered in the doorway, then turned to give me a crooked, violent smile. "Besides, it's not like we're going to let them get away with taking Master Kharl's precious things."

With that you vanished, leaving me alone to brush the white feathers around, to think about how awful I must have looked… We're not going to let them get away with it. We're not. You were right, I could not simply lie in agony and let them win. I had failed twice now, and paid for my mistakes. I would not fail again. I would not approach this the same way, would not let my emotions become clouded. I would not let myself be swayed by guardian dragons or Dragon Officers with false acceptance and love in their eyes. If it meant he would have come back to me, I would have killed them all. That was what I believed then—yet when the opportunity came, I healed them instead. I didn't understand then like I do now. I hope they all survive. I hope Rath…

It took me months to return to my normal self. No, I can't say that—because after what happened in the Snowy Mountains, I was never the same. I had become bitter, had come to feel hatred so much stronger, had come to dislike making the tiniest of errors. I became methodical, determined to be utterly precise in all my actions. I became wary and so much colder. Still, when the horror I'd felt that day had receded, and the simple things like watching Right Bird fly ceased to make me long for Left Bird, I was able to go back to laughing, to enjoying your cooking, to watching the sea and not bitterly dreaming about my son on the far shore. I thought maybe I could have a tiny bit of peace, a few moments of happiness before I gave my heart back to rescuing Rath. In the months after what happened in Dusis, I thought I ought to get to enjoy things. But even this was denied me. Without even meaning to, Rath had thoroughly taken over my life, as a single morning showed me...

"Oi lady, I don't know who you think you—" From downstairs, I heard your voice, loud and angry, rise up. What was going on? I abandoned the book I had been reading, ran my fingers through my hair in the attempt to make it look as if I'd brushed it, and left my room. It was early, just after breakfast, and I had not bothered to change out of my night clothes. Who was here, causing such an uproar?

"You don't understand, I have to speak with him immediately!" I knew that voice! The soft, feminine tone was breathless and rushed, but it was no less familiar. I hurried down the hallway, picking up my steps. You have always had a quick temper, and I didn't think a strange woman in the house was going to make you happy…

"You can't just waltz in here and—" I turned the corner, and saw one of the strangest sights ever to grace the main hall.

"Lord Alchemist!" The Star Princess, held at bay by a menacing ash sword, had frozen with her arms spread wide, placating you, my Hellcat apprentice. In turn you spun your head to glare up at me, clearly interrogating. I giggled at the ridiculous scene, pleased not only by the strangeness of it, but by the fact that she had come to see me—I had thought that moment in the mountains would be our last meeting. The betrayal in her eyes seven months ago seemed to say I would never meet with her again. I leaned over the landing's stone rail, smile apparent on my face. Obviously reluctant, you let the sword dissolve, and the Star Princess composed herself. I could see through it: something was bothering her, something large enough to drive her uninvited into my castle. Her body was stiff, her fingers toyed nervously with the cuff of her sleeves. Her eyes, which I was almost afraid to meet (for fear I might see that sorrow again) were wide and wavering and wet with what I hoped were not tears.

"You haven't brought me pleasant news, have you Hime-sama?" My grin was fast becoming wane. She shook her head rapidly, pink locks cascading around her thin form. I could see that those eyes had indeed clouded with crystalline tears, and I prayed silently for Rath's safety.

"L-Lord Alchemist… I've made a grave error!"

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Translation Notes:
1- Hime-sama: I put this in Japanese because English doesn't have a good equal for it. "Hime" is the designation given to princesses, and "sama" is a suffix that denotes a great deal of respect. Saying "Your Highness" just doesn't have the same sound. When Kharl says this, he is being both familiar (oh, how bold!) and respectful. He is showing her a kindness that "Your Majesty" can't hope to grab. A literal translation would be something like "Lady Princess" or (if you consider the term respectful) "Miss Princess". On the reverse side, I had the Star Princess refer to Kharl as "Renkinjutsushi-sama" (Lord Alchemist). By calling him by his title and not his name, the Star Princess is reassuring some distance in their tentative and strange relationship, while simultaneously expressing a healthy dose of humility.
2 - Sugoi! I left this in Japanese solely for the cuteness factor. Sugoi (S'-go-ee)!is Japanese for "Cool", "amazing", "wow"! It just sounds so much cuter than the translation, doesn't it?
3 - Honou/Shin: If you're a super DK otaku, like me, you probably already know what these words mean. I really can't stand Tokyopop's hideous translations, so I make it a firm business to refer to the Dragons by their (REAL!) Japanese names: Fire is Honou, which means "Flame". Water is Kahaku, which means "River Chief". Earth is Riku, which means "Shore". Wind is Hayate, which means "Hurricane". I think I mentioned that name in an eariler chapter... Light/Deus, is Shin, which has many applicable meanings including "Heart", "Truth" and "Divinity".

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Author's Notes: Was it totally awful? Please, tell me it wasn't completely worthless! With this chapter, Cloaks has become the longest story I have ever written, and it's really not that close to being finished. Right now, I'm looking at about ending the story at around chapter 25, plus I have a bunch of Omake shorts I've been writing along the way. So yeah, I hope you'll stick around that long… Also, this is important! I'm leaving for Europe for six weeks! The next expected post should be roughly August 7th. But I'll try to make up for the long wait by setting Chapter 17's deadline at August 30th. I'm sorry for not being able to update for you all, but I'll be busy chatting up the Germans again.

Review Responses:
Leeayre: Did you get my review response this time? I hope so, considering how hard I worked to get it to you! Fanfiction is evil to me. I'm sorry if I totally failed to answer your questions, but I promise the next chapter will answer at least one of them. Did I totally kill Ohkami-sama's beautiful Black Education? I think so…
Yami-chan and the Unrealistic: So, what do you think of this chapter? More randomness that never happened in the manga right? (And some stuff that did happen in the manga…) Thank you for reviewing!
xxDKGurlxx: Well, this chapter was pretty much all about Rath… What did you think of it? Bad, good? Anyway, thank you for reviewing, and I hope you'll stick around through my long absence…
Random Irony: I like the name change. :D I'm sorry I failed to update in 13 days, but I did meet my deadline! What do you think of this chapter? It's so hard to live up her super awesome work… I feel bad for Kharl too. I want to cuddle him.

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