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Author's Notes: I am so sorry… That is all I can say. I got so busy I pretty much died when it came to writing this story. You guys probably know by now that I started another Dragon Knights fanfiction (a one-shot collection) and that took a lot of time, along with loads of assignments, work, and art. And in all reality… I didn't want to write this chapter. It was a little boring, and really difficult to string all the right events together at the right time. I made a million mistakes and had to keep going back and correcting my timeline. But it's finished. Shorter than the last chapters, but I'm not in the mood to write another epic, and this stuff is really just filler… Setting the stage for the disasters to come. One of the high points of this chapter is the HEAVY amount of foreshadowing. This chapter pretty much lines everything up for the ending. (OMG, Cloaks is actually going to end…) Anyway, I don't know if you guys will like or hate this chapter (it's a bit out there), but there are some parts I like a lot. There are finally some humorous bits again! Next up is Emphaza and Gil! (BTW, Cloaks just broke 100,000 words.)
Note: At this time, it may be helpful to have books 5 through 8 at your disposal.
Disclaimer: Please. I get slapped with lawsuits in my dreams for pretending I own them…
Background Music: Abracadabra (Steve Miller Band) …Okay yeah, this song doesn't match the content of this chapter at all. But without this song, I could NEVER have finished...
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Cloaks
By Sarehptar
Chapter 17-
Lengthening Shadows
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How could I ask anyone to understand the way I felt that night? How could I ask anyone to understand me, the furious pain I felt that was guilt and something stronger? For a moment, I hated myself. Truly, deeply, enough to wish I had never dreamed of Rath, had never learned Alchemy at all. If I could have torn the knowledge from my mind, I might have done it that night. I am glad now that I did not—it was my power alone that enabled me to save him, to stop him from inviting in the death he so was so ready to welcome.
For as many minutes as it took me to accept that nothing now could be changed, I sat in half silence, broken by my own breath that was ragged and tremulous. I could feel the tips of my claws digging into my temples, and ignored the pain. It was not enough to draw blood and, I laughed wryly, blood seemed to be the only thing of importance anymore.
There was no way for me to undo anything. There was no way for me to mend the fabric of my own reality—like irreplaceable silk, it had been torn by my unfragile claws. Rath… Maybe I said the word aloud, maybe I did not. In those moments, the thoughts were heavy enough to be tangible things, spilling from my lips into my ivory gloves. Was I a fool? Was I a failure? Was I truly to blame for everything? I wasn't, I wasn't, I wanted so badly not to be.
When I stood I wavered, and for a moment I was sure and did not care that my feet could not hold me up. What would one more fall matter? I thought I wanted to pray to someone, to anyone, but the words would not come. There was nothing for me to say to God—He had failed me. I did not stumble: a hand that I had no control over made sure I remained upright. That was it, wasn't it? I had to catch myself. Every error, every slip, the only hands waiting to break my fall were my own, skinned and bloody. Like a weight that pushed outward, I felt lead fill my lungs. My breath stilled, I curled into myself without ever willing a muscle to move. I was alone, utterly and totally.
Who did I have to follow, to lead me? Who did I have to protect me and spill kindness and warmth into my ears? Who did I have to kiss my wounds, or to calm my fears with a touch and whisper? The darkness of the room was not impenetrable, but my eyes burned cruelly because I could not even force myself to blink. It wasn't fair, I wanted to scream. But who would listen? Who would accept my burdens as their own? I was only a child! I was not capable of caring for myself, of caring for my own soul. I was not capable of living in the world without harming others—and no one was behind me, patiently explaining my faults and forcing me to grow.
"Master…" This I know I said, because the betrayal in the word boiled and blackened in my throat—yet it was so quiet in the cold air of the room. I could not blame him, but I could not bear to blame myself. If he had not… If I had… More than anything I wanted someone to lie to me, to tell me that the lives that had been damaged, the faeries I was slaughtering were nothing. I wanted someone to tell me I was right, that I was innocent, and I wanted to believe it.
Maybe it was then I decided, maybe it was even before then. I was going to resurrect my Master. I was going to bring back the one person who would treat me still as the child I felt like—the one whose voice, so dark with bloodlust, would heal me. They are meaningless. And you mean everything… What I would not have given in that moment to feel his hands close around my wrists, to feel him guiding my hands again. This the symbol for Cinnabar. This is the symbol for Aqua Regia. This is the symbol for… I would have given anything to sit beside him again, small and foolish and full of illusions.
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"Master Kharl?" I heard you call from downstairs, and I drug myself from bed with only a little hesitance. It had been days since that terrible night, but still I could hardly accept all that had happened.
"You know," you muttered as you set our table for a late breakfast, "I was thinking about when I was in the Dragon Castle… The Earth Dragon Knight and the Faerie weren't there." I ran the thought several times over in my head, realizing it was true a little late. If they had been there, you would most certainly have seen them sleeping somewhere in the hallways—there was no way that at least one of those two would not have been on guard, not after Bierrez had escaped Rath the first time.
"Lykouleon will have sent the Faerie back to his home, to look into the destruction of the forests." Even if he had not sent the boy, I had no doubt that the Faerie would have petitioned until he was permitted to leave. "But the Earth Knight… Where could he have been?" What chore would a human have to attend for the Dragon Lord? They had Nadil's head, the Faerie was out to find out about his disappearing comrades… There were only so many things Lykouleon would want and feel the need to send a Dragon Knight to get.
"How long ago was it that you last checked on Lykouleon's hired thief?"
"That girl?" A sheepish, guilty look swept over your face. "I forgot about her."
"Hmm…" I murmured, but there was nothing scolding in the tone. That human girl had been working for Lykouleon for several months, and though I had not realized exactly what her errand was when she'd first begun, it had not taken me long to figure it out—she was collecting map pieces. And not just any regular map, but a map I myself had broken and scattered. Briefly I wondered if I should have just sealed it away within the castle, where the Dragons could never have gotten a hold of it, but then the thought was gone. This was bound to be interesting, and more than anything, I needed something to take my mind off Rath.
"It would appear that the Dragon Lord and his mercenary have gotten further along than either of us expected."
"You mean she actually managed to find all the pieces?"
"Enough of them at least, that Lykouleon would feel the need to send his Earth Knight with her." There was nothing else he could possibly want—and the Three Treasures would be an incredible asset to their cause if he did ever manage to get his hands on them.
That is why I had sealed them away to begin with, building the intricate alternate dimension to confine their power where no one would be able to get it, from Nadil's or Lykouleon's side. Salbacion, Lakiayta, Diolasis: they were created centuries ago, when I was young, by the Eastern King, the very man that… They were meant to be tools for destroying demons. Diolasis, a Holy Dragon's Eye, whose power is unrivaled. Salbacion, the spirit-like potions capable of bringing one back from the edge of death.(1) Lakiayta, the weapon that can be wielded only by a Dragon Lord… They were meant to be gifts, but I could not allow such unadulterated power to slip into the hands of my enemies. I stole them away; hide them where they could not be reached. And I shattered the clues to their whereabouts and let them fall where they would.
I knew that Lykouleon would not give up on finding them just because their locations were no longer readily known. I knew that Nadil, once he had learned of them, would not waste any time trying to find them. I knew this and I wanted it to happen—in the end, I think I am simply a lover of mischief. I made it possible for both of them to find the treasures, I made it possible for myself to watch them scramble like rats for something that, even if they managed to find them, they would never be able to retrieve. There was a perverse pleasure to be gained from being the one in control of such a serious situation.
And now the Dragon Lord had sent one of his knights to gather the Treasures—I almost laughed right then and there over the breakfast table. If the human keeper of the Earth Dragon managed to locate all the things required to read the map, and managed to find the cavern and entered it—he would never return from the darkness. I suppose it was quite cruel of me to find joy in the thought that a Dragon Knight might die because of what I had done, but any chance to damage Lykouleon set my blood beating faster in my veins. He was my enemy, the man that had destroyed my life for the second time.
That night, though thinking about the Three Treasures had driven Rath and Illuser momentarily from my mind, I dreamt of fire and ice. I dreamt of destruction, of death, of ash. I slept fitfully at best, and threw the covers off so many times I finally stopped getting up to get them. Over and over in my mind, I watched Illuser's cold eyes burn into my own, watched the monster my son had become lap at his own bloody fangs. I drifted that night halfway and out of the world of dreams, memorizing the wood grain of the rafters of my room. By the time the dawn sun peeked through the window I had slept an hour at most, and I knew I must have looked worse for the wear—but I rose when you did, crushing the lingering nightmare sickness with a breakfast I could barely swallow.
I watched you leave, off to hunt faeries, without saying a word, and I think my mind would have been clouded all day if I hadn't happened to glance at the calendar in passing. Why we even kept one, I can't say—it was something you liked, a basic human reassurance that days really were flowing one after the other, a relentless march of time. Normally I wouldn't have spared it a glance, but today you'd left the box labeled '10th' half marked. It was really unlike you to not do things thoroughly, and I wondered briefly why the calendar had lost your interest after one side of your standard X had already been drawn on. Deftly, I finished it off, and that is when it struck me: today was the tenth of March, the day we had met more than two centuries ago.
Being so sharply reminded of your age also reminded me that it had been almost a hundred years since I had given you a Longetivity pill. Where had I even put them? Somewhere in the storeroom off the library, right? I threw myself eagerly into finding them, because it filled a place that otherwise would have been full of dark thoughts. Unfortunately, throwing myself too eagerly into things always causes some sort of destruction—and I find that my poking about is generally dangerous behavior to begin with. Within moments, the decently clean storeroom was becoming a disaster. Books I shifted off the shelves to look behind made clumsy stacks, cluttering the tables and floors. There were boxes I had never even bothered to look into laying everywhere, one on top of the either, full of moth holes and crawling with those tiny silver insects that live in book pages. A layer of dust thick enough to choke a small child covered everything, dying a white drape over some forgotten pieces of furniture a horrible dusty grey. I brushed aside cartons and vases and jars and still could not find the music box.
Of course, as if the dust itself had summoning magic, you chose then to return. It had felt like only a few minutes since you'd departed, but the slowly ticking clock perched precariously on an unsteady pile of molding notebooks said it had been two hours.
"My, that was fast Garfakcy!" You took one look at the room and almost burst into tears. "What's wrong?"
"It's getting dusty everywhere! Wha-What are you doing?.!" I took a breath to answer you and inhaled a veritable cloud of dirt motes. With a hacking cough and choke, I managed to clear my throat again.
"I'm simply searching for something… But the harder I look, the harder it is to find anything!" I watched a single dust bunny drift through the air and strike a wobbling pile of books—sending the entire stack crumbling to the floor. "Oops." Indignation rolled off you in waves, and I wondered briefly if I ought to hastily retreat. I'd been on the receiving end of your 'cleanly rage' more than once, and was not quite willing to incur it again… Thankfully enough, you took out your anger on the mire and not on my face. "I was sure it was around here somewhere…"
"Duster!" It was almost a wail, "Vacuum!" You sounded as if you embracing old friends, or greeting a long lost lover. A sudden change in your appearance caught my eye, and I had to severely re-think my belief that humans could not perform magic: because I knew for a fact there hadn't been any aprons laying around the room, and you hadn't come in wearing one…
"I'm going to seize this opportunity and clean up around here! Go find something else to do Master Kharl."
"Hai…" I accepted your orders without question. When it came to the well-being of the castle, you were the lord and I was the (rather useless) tag-along. "Are you sure there's not something I can do to help?" You stiffened like a cornered cat.
"Here, use this Master Kharl." You gruffly shoved a watering can in my direction, and I had only enough time to wonder where you'd gotten the water before you turned me roughly around and sent me toddling off to several potted plants, all of whom were looking quite shabby. I know you must have been watering them from outside, but they looked decidedly neglected.
"Look at all this dust," your displeased voice was muffled by the rag you kept over your nose, "there must be a hundred years' worth!" Probably not quite that long, I pondered, but it must have been decades. The thought of age made me remember again why I had begun my search, which in turn reminded me of our discussion from yesterday.
"The Earth Dragon Knight is heading toward the island to search for the Three Treasures right now, isn't he?"
"Looks like it. He should be on the sea about now."
"Nadil's officers are completely in the dark," I couldn't help but chuckle slightly, amazed at how discreet Lykouleon had managed to be on this operation… Getting a human thief from outside the castle to handle the map, sending a Dragon Knight only when he absolutely had to. It was clever, and that irked me. "They have no idea what is going on." Those two were almost incompotent—running around unproductively without Nadil to fill their heads with all the right plans.
"Let's keep it that way," you growled, evident dislike of the pair slipping into your voice, "there's no need for us to tell them anything."
"But that's no fun," I pointed out with a giggle that was not all friendly, "it's much more entertaining to see them run around panicked just a little, right?" You blinked at me in somber recognition. "Besides, I'd love to see their faces when they realize we know something they don't." I could picture Shyrendora's huffy rage and Shydeman's quiet seething, and both images tickled me completely.
"I see…" you murmured, and it dawned on you that teasing Nadil's minions would be almost as fun as causing havoc. "Oh, and what's this pile of a junk?" Another precarious stack of boxes and bags teetered and then fell, filling the room anew with dust.
"It's research I was doing for some old experiments," I realized, noticing several notebooks that might have been familiar at one time. "It's been so long, I'd completely forgotten about all this work."
"So," you sighed in exasperation, "you would consider it trash." I could tell you desperately wanted to scold me for not cleaning up after myself, but the words died in your mouth, leaving me feeling no less guilty about being so messy. "Trash it is." Swiftly you began to collect it all and stuff it away, picking delicately through for anything that might be salvageable. A dark-patterned egg slipped from the pile and I caught it out of interest.
"A demon's egg? When did I make this?" I didn't recall having kept any eggs, so finding one in a back storeroom seemed strange.
"You could give it to Shydeman, he'd probably be very touched." The vapid sarcasm in your voice made the idea delicious. Of course, why not? It might even give you a bartering tool and time to escape, should the twins not take your other message well.
"Good idea. Take it with you when you go to the see the officers."
An hour and a half later, which was a long stretch of time compared to your impressive cleaning skills, the storeroom had been restored to gleaming conditions. Notebooks of information that might one day become pertinent to me lined the shelves, you had sent all the boxes and their contents to proper places inside the cabinets, and we'd both discovered that this storeroom had actually been brimming with wines neither of us had known existed.
"Oh, so this is where it was." The music box sat gleaming on the very bottom shelf of the furthest cabinet in. I could never have found it on my own, not without pulling the castle down too… "Open your mouth," I cut off your questions and threw the Longetivity pill in your direction. With an audible gulp and general look of distrust, you murmured your confusion. Had you really forgotten? With quick words, I reminded you gently of the fact that you were different—it had been a whole century since you'd last taken one, and a hundred years is a long time to remember something trivial like medicine.
Strangest of all, the white drape I'd mistaken earlier for a furniture dropcloth actually turned out to be a cloak I'd been missing for years, and once you'd thoroughly beat the dust from it, I put it on with deft hands.
Gingerly, without even needing to be asked, you followed me down into the laboratory, dragging the cage of squealing Water Lights behind you.
"Disappointing," I couldn't help but mutter, though my sentiments were not directed at you. There were so few of the faerie tribe left alive after Ruin and I had ripped through their population, it was actually quite remarkable that you had managed to find as many as you had.
"Is that not enough?" you questioned, a little bit of fear at my displeasure coming through in your voice. When I answered in the negative, I could see a curious light begin to glint in your green eyes.
"Can you only use Faeries? What exactly are you making anyway, and why do you need the Spirit Tribe?"
"Faeries possess incredible healing power—that ability is related to containing and reviving souls. Though alone a single Faerie could never hope to resurrect anything larger than a tree, together, their power is magnified exponentially. And that power is a vital ingredient for forging Left Bird's replacement."
"Left Bird? You're really making a replacement?" Your eyes where wide with concern and intrigue, and I wondered for a moment if you took offense to my replacing our lost companion. "But you told me you were capable of creating demons without Left Bird."
"I can, but in order to create the particular youkai I want, I need Left Bird's power."
"What is it? What are you going to make?"
"My murdered master's body." I laughed, but it was false and pale and only for your benefit. I wanted to hide from you just how seriously I was taking the entire affair, wanted to hide my distress behind a smile—it did not fail then, it has never failed.
"I don't believe it." The words were stunned, but there was a luster in your jade eyes that did not seem to match. For a moment, sheer delight simmered just under the surface of your face, and I could not help but question why. Did you really want to meet that man? What interest could a demon whom you had never met hold for you? But then I realized it—simple. I was brutally strong, wickedly clever. How could any person who desired more power not want to meet the source of my strength?
"I'll need something powerful to govern that spirit, so I need to kill many Faeries." You still had not found the entrance to the Water Realm, but that was understandable: it had been inaccessible since Nadil's rather neanderthalic attacks, and many of the entrances had been destroyed by Ruin, by you, and human encroachment into the forest territories. "And then there's Varawoo to deal with…" The fish demon was more trouble than he had right to be. Trying to drown the world, pointless really. "But the lack of Faeries is the most pressing issue at the moment."
"Can I start killing humans?" The words were as sharp as your blade, and heated and hungry as hellfire. It was almost saddening, but in the end, I deemed it trivial. I knew what they had done to you, and I knew the desperate desire for revenge. "Go ahead." It was an afterthought when I laughed, "my master loved doing that—he would be very pleased." But I could see what effect the passing comment had had on you. A bright smile overtook your face, your eyes shone with something like anticipation, and something like pride. I had always known that the strangest of things could make you happy.
"Still, we will need more Faeries." If Ruin had not… If I had not… It was almost a shame, and deadly ironic, that the Faerie race I needed so much then were almost extinct by accidents of my causing so many years before. I told you that, in a roundabout manner that was more lie than truth. I could not tell you that I deemed my turning the Faeries into demons 'saving'—because that would mean telling you who and what horrible death I had saved them from.
For a while longer, we worked together (or I worked, and you walked behind, picking up the messes I could not help but make), making corrections to acidic levels, to the influx of Spiritual power, to just about everything I could think of. It was midday before I was content enough to take a break, and though you looked positively exasperated, you served tea and cakes with no less flourish than ever.
"I think I'll go to see Nadil's flunkies now…" you mused, setting your emptied cup back on the tea tray, "I'm sure they'd love to hear about Lykouleon's latest success." The wicked little glint in your eye could not have been more amusing, and you took the demon's egg you intended to give them off the shelf. Deft hands reached for the ash to start a transportation spell.
"Ah, Garfakcy, take your apron off." Somehow, I didn't think Nadil's right-hand man would take you very seriously if you barged into his rooms wearing that confection of pink and blue. You blinked flatly at me once, and once at the offending cloth, before undoing your neat bows, folding the apron in a perfect square and setting it aside with a heavy sigh. Yes, I agreed mentally, leading the double-life of housekeeper and havoc-wreaker must have been quite trying sometimes. In almost affronted sparkle of ash magic, you were gone, off to stir up panic in Nadil's stronghold. I chuckled to myself, eating the last of the yummy little lemon cakes. The day seemed only to be getting better and better—and for the first time in a long while, thoughts of Rath did not cloud my mind.
It was not long after that you returned to the castle, giggling merrily and brimming with a malicious delight that lit the main hall like a flame.
"Shydeman just loved your gift. I think he's already found a use for it."
"And how did he take the other news?" Identical devilish smiles danced across our faces.
"He was livid. And Shyrendora almost had a heart attack. They really seem to think the Dragons are going to get the Three Treasures."
"A little fear on their part is probably not misplaced. The Treasures would spell their defeat utterly…" I sighed in mock sadness, "I almost wish I had come along now. Their faces must have been priceless."
It was late afternoon already, and the sky was a tawny gold outside the dusty glass castle windows. While you went to prepare dinner, I inspected the demon I was forging carefully in the depths of the castle. The intense spiritual power billowed in the glass tubes, glowing faintly and filling the cervices of the room with cobalt shadow. Warmth filled the normally cold stone chamber, filled me.
That night, I had a dream that felt more like reality than any I had ever had before. For a long time I languished in an impenetrable fog, where I could catch nothing but glimpses of shadowy figures and voices that might have been familiar to me and might not have been.
What's the situation at the Dragon Castle? A cold voice, a flash of silver hair…
A long time ago, Arinas was also ruled by a single king... Stars and a map unfurling…
And the holder of that power will cast a massive shadow... Red and black lights, shards of crystal…
He is a demonic creature who wears the skin of a Dragon... Playing cards and poison and blue, blue eyes…
It's as if two demons as powerful as Nadil himself are engaged in battle! Pale skin and a far away fear…
So this is where… Rath's precious grave. Stone and a smile thick with sorrow…
And then, as if some shining heat had burned it all away, the mist cleared, filling my mind with a shock of color that might have been midnight or noon sky. The Star Princess stood before me, and though we were close, she seemed as distant and untouchable as the stars that glittered around her flowing roseate locks and immaculate white robe. Her delicate wan hands pressed into the dark wood of a staff—the Wind Staff so much of this world's fate was resting on. At last, she spoke, voice tremulous and redolent with hope and horror.
The Three Treasures… I wish… I wish… But the rest of her words were lost in the sound of a high, cruel howl that might have been Illuser and might just as easily have been anyone else.
I woke with a start and watched the sun rise over the dark forest tree tops.
You left early that morning to hunt faeries, leaving me alone in the castle. I languished around, strolling the grounds (taking the time to poke at a clog in one of the fountains, which turned out to be a cranky moss demon, not the benevolent fungus I'd expected), and whipping up a few mischievous batches of Sickness Enhancer. It was altogether a boring day, and not even the weather seemed to be making an effort. The breeze was pitiful, the sun hardly warm, the clouds were wispy and formless. Afternoon came slowly, but finally.
A few hours later, I began to get anxious. Surely you would not have lingered so long in Dusis. What could be hindering your return? There was no one in the kingdom, save the Dragon Lord, who could have caused you trouble, and I was certain he was tucked safely in his castle, far from where you would be hunting faeries. Perhaps you had run into the Water Knight? But I cast that thought aside also. You were far too stealthy to simply cross paths with him, and he surely would never suspect a child to be the bringer of mass genocide… So what could be halting your return? In the back of my mind, unease bated, but I chose to shove it aside. Nothing was wrong, I assured myself, and when that failed, I left the bright, empty halls of the upper castle and sank into the darkness of the laboratory.
The soft trickles of faerie spirits lit the gloom with a tremulous blue light—but I immediately noticed something wrong. The light was too bright, the flicker too rapid. The water, which had been bubbling gently for days, was frothing. Unwilled, my own demon energy flared to life, and as if brutally ripped apart, was siphoned away into the shade of the room, in a swirl of wind that touched nothing but myself. The translucent pillar to my left cracked sharply, dripping steaming water. Inside the mass of boiling liquid, something made repeated knocks against the glass. A flash of white among the blue caught my eye, and then I drew sharply back.
Skeletons. Nothing but bones, dancing in the waters' currents.
The faeries' bodies had been eaten completely away—as I watched the fleshless bones corroded into swirling traces of grey, almost like ash, and then they too vanished into the infrequent blue shine. The Left Beast had gone beyond assimilating souls! I felt the power that had been stolen from me wax and wane with the pulses of light—and then that glow suddenly and utterly vanished, dousing the room in darkness. A high, cold howl rent the air, shaking my heart against my ribs, splintering the glass tubes. Shrapnel exploded outward, cutting books and bottles and shattering against the stone walls. Boiling water spilled over the floor and filled the room with an effervescent steam. To have this much control over its' environment without even being complete…
The sound of claws on shards of glass echoed suddenly, stilling my hesitant movements. Deep within the darkness, a pair of amethyst eyes opened for the first time and peered into the depths of my soul.
I assure you Creator, I am most complete. The voice was curt, vaguely feminine and redolent with a wisdom that seemed endless. It was unsettling, and then the creature slunk toward me. Her movement was fluid, effortless, and at last she wound free of the shadows to stand before me. There was no way to tell her midnight fur from the pressing gloom—she could have been every black pocket of the room, staring back into my heart.
You… are interesting, her white fangs glinted starkly.
"And you are more beautiful than I imagined you would be."
No, she offered a thin-lipped, toothy smile, I am exactly as you imagined I would be: the shadow of a power that was lost—"
"And of a dream that has yet to come true."
My role is clear. I will not fail.
"I know," I smiled indulgently and brightly into the darkness, "and that is why I will put my trust in you." She crossed the last meter between us and placed her muzzle in my gloved hand.
I will serve well in Left Bird's place. I cannot be a wing for you, but my steps will never falter, and my mind will never cease. I didn't have the words at that moment to express the depth of my gratitude—it was like having Left Bird suddenly returned to my side. No, perhaps the heavy feeling of relief and warmth was deeper than the feeling I'd shared with the previous Soul Crafter: this beast showed a depth of compassion and elegance Left Bird had never had. In some small way, the faeries that composed her form lived on.
Come now. Her amethyst eyes glittered with amusement as she wound her way toward the stone staircase. This black air does not suit you.
I was amazed to find it so still so light in the upper corridors of the castle. The sun was perched just over the forest canopy, dying the sky a warm afternoon gold with streaks of pink cloud throughout. You had not returned, and unease pressed again in the back of my mind. At my side, the spirit demon lifted her head into my hand, warm fur brushing gently against the thin material of my glove.
I wandered aimlessly up and down the silent halls, counting my breaths and each click of her dark nails. I was going to kill you, I remember thinking that. If I was worried for nothing, if you had taken a detour to go shopping or stopped to look at some new flower, I was honestly going to kill you. And then revive you of course, because Heaven knows I'm not capable of taking care of myself.
If you are unsettled Master, you should read a book to calm your mind. Her voice came across far more like a command than a suggestion, and I got the distinct impression that she could not only feel my distress but also found it unnerving. There was really nothing to do but listen to her, and I suddenly had a sinking suspicious that if this moment was any example, the compassion she exhibited was going to see me on the end of quite a few more command-suggestions.
The rays of sunlight filtered weakly through high windows, painting the library a welcoming dusty orange. Deftly, I lit the tall taper candles, shedding flickering light in my wake. The Left Beast wound around shelves and around me, nose to the floor, taking in every new smell she came across. For a moment, it was easy to pretend she was only a large mortal dog—but then she fixed abyss-like eyes on me and huffed.
For a library, I find this room intolerably dust-free. It does not even smell of moldy pages.
"And I suppose you have smelled many libraries?" I did not think it was possible for a canine face to contort in that manner, but she sent me a flat glare, and then a smirk.
I have smelt everything you have smelt, and know everything you know. Her eyes narrowed in distaste for a moment, brow creasing just barely. I cannot comprehend all of it, and much of it does not interest me, but I will not lie and say I have not taken this time to wind my way through your mind. Shock briefly coursed through me. I felt suddenly vulnerable and invaded, but I could not sustain the feeling. Had I expected any less? It had been impossible to keep a secret from Left Bird, and his predecessor seemed to be no different. A stifled sigh of surrender slipped between my lips.
"I trust that every secret you so brutishly stole will remain secret."
Who would I tell? She grinned again, that heavy predatory look. And who in the world would believe me? I gave a dry chuckle in return, knowing the truth of that statement. How strange and convoluted my story was! Mindlessly I riffled through the shelves, searching for anything distracting. I barely noticed the massive and teetering stacks of books I left in my wake. Finally, I settled for a few leather-bound tomes. They were newer volumes, ones you had bought but I had never taken the time to read. Just as I opened the first volume, a pained whimper pulled my eyes from the page.
The spirit demon wavered on her paws, angled eyes shut tightly against some internal pain. She panted harshly, and then fell weakly against a low shelf.
"What's the matter?" I could not keep the concern out of my voice, and I stood at the table, ready to cross the short distance between us and assist her.
I, there was a hint of shame in her voice, I stole a large amount of power from you to speed the completion of my corporeal form. But I did not take into consideration that, while this body is a demonic creation, the largest part of my power is comprised of pure Spiritual energy. The faerie power and your demonic ki are not mixing well. She slunk, slowly and low to the floor, around the table, winding around my legs and leaning heavily against my knees. It will not be long before I can assimilate the two, but at the moment, my body is refusing to function properly. All this she said with a clinical voice that made light of a situation that seemed to me quite severe. Then another more pressing thought caught my attention.
"You were capable of taking my power without my willing it at all."
Yes, she sighed heavily, the sound rumbling against my knee where her head rested, I am a creature whose only purpose is to govern and manipulate the mind, the soul. It is an easy matter for me to take parts of others' beings and use them to my advantage. You may be considerably gifted in Soul Alchemy, but I have a dominion over Spirit that you will never possess. She gave me a weak canine smile, but her amethyst eyes were clear and dancing with mischief. With your guard down, your mind is as open to me as any wide-flung door. I could have your whole heart, right now, if I wanted it.
I smiled softly again, stroking the space between her two pointed black ears. "I highly doubt that. You can barely stand on your own four feet at the moment, let alone steal souls." She huffed, clearly put out, and then lowered her head from my knee to lay at my feet.
The silence weighed sharply, and I was suddenly reminded of why I had come to the library in the first place—to take my mind off the fact that you still had not come home from your trip to Dusis. Having forgotten for a minute and just then remembering seemed to make the reality somehow sharper, and I tapped the cover of the book I had yet to reopen nervously.
"He's off somewhere enjoying himself," I insisted, feeling the brush of a furred head across my boots, "and he'll be back any minute now with some new plant or recipe." With that, I tugged the book open furiously and devoured the tiny and scrawled text.
It was surprising to say the least. The book was a collection of reports profiling demons considered to be highly prominent and powerful. You had probably bought it simply for kicks—I was given a thorough covering on pages 13 through 27. (The second largest section, shorter only than Nadil's. No, I wasn't bitter about that at all.) Most of the information sounded second-hand and was mainly fluff related to my original destruction of the faeries and the Demon's Bible. But there was also a sizable bit on my feud with the Arinain king. My captures of Arinas' Life Spirit and the Three Treasures were heralded in the book as heroic blows for demon-kind. There was even a dashing portrait on the first page. The cut of my bangs was wrong, but the longer pieces did not look at all bad, and I wondered if I shouldn't let my hair grow out a little…
By the time I reached the middle of the book, my attention was focused solely on the pages. They had that poor boy Gil listed… At my feet, the Left Beast stirred and stretched.
What are you reading?
"Something of a field guide to demons. I'm included, as is one of my creations."
Oh? Read it to me, she yawned and laid her head back on my boots, one tapered ear cocked upward toward me.
"'The demon of Mount Emphaza is a fierce one-eyed guardian… With his sharp claws and fangs, he kills all who venture near, in order to protect an item hidden deep within Emphaza.' Well, he seems to faring well enough, I thought he might have been killed for his disobedience by now…"
Is he the one you sold to Shydeman? I saw that in your memories.
"Yes. He was one of my favorite creations…" My favorite really, because I could never count Ruin or Rath as a creation. Ruin was meant to have been a precious comrade, not an experiment. "I should have asked Shydeman to pay more for him." I tried to keep my voice light and carefree, but it kept a melancholic note I could not fully stifle. Gil was nothing but regrets and bitter memories. The Left Beast breathed heavily at my feet, already back to sleep.
"I wonder what Nadil is hiding in Emphaza, to justify such a spectacle… No, it's a farce. Those fools don't have anything worth hiding." I was about to return to my reading when a heavy footstep sounded behind me, followed shortly by a muffled curse. "Garfakcy?" I leapt from my seat, only to watch you stumbling around the colonnades. The scent of blood preceded you, and drops of red marked your sluggish trail from behind. "What happened? How did you get those injuries?" You stared at me almost sheepishly, as if afraid to admit you were in pain.
"It was the Earth Dragon Knight," you hissed at last, weakly crossing the room to my side. I immediately began a frantic search for the nearest first aide box. I destroyed the room in the process, but that was the last thing on my mind.
"Here, give me your hand." I doused antiseptic on the wounds, binding them each carefully and tightly, wincing only slightly at each of your noises of discomfort. "The Earth Dragon Knight was supposed to be on an island off our coast. Why was he in Dusis at all?"
"He obviously went back."
"He must not have entered the cave of the Three Treasures after all… If he had, there's no way he could have escaped it." You made a questioning noise, but I cut you off by winding the bandages too tightly. "These injuries are severe." It pained me simply to look at them, and I swore at that moment that I would not ignore my feelings of unease ever again. "You didn't use the ash armor." You flinched, not from sudden pain but from the weight of accusation.
"Garfakcy, the human body is weak. It injures easily and recovers slowly. It even makes a disgusting cracking noise when it gets broken. Trust me, it's not a pleasant sound. Please use the armor."
"Why don't you just make me a demon?" There was earnest desire and desperation in the demand, but you could not meet my eyes when you asked it. Reservation stilled my voice, and I regretted that you would ask me something like that again, at a time when denying you strength to protect yourself seemed almost cruel. I couldn't form a response, so a withdrawn 'what?' filled the air, giving me time to force a fake reply.
"Having claws would be useful."
"You really want that?" There was a note of barely veiled disappointment and concern in my voice.
"Well…"
"It's so over-rated!" I resorted to making light of the situation to stop your thoughts from progressing any further. "I could never make you a demon. I'd be giving up my most interesting specimen! Your human traits are just so fun to observe!" You scowled lividly in my direction. "Oh come now, don't pout."
"I'm not pouting," you muttered, "I'm just bitter I lost, that's all." The frankness with which you admitted that and the clarity that you were able to give your emotions was always intriguing and I could not help but giggle. If you had the strength to be defensive, I did not need to worry too much about your health.
"What exactly is so funny?" I could see your eye twitching angrily.
"You never fail to keep me entertained."
"My pain, nice of you to find it funny." You held yourself a little straighter, the ointments already starting to work on your open wounds. "Oh, by the way, I missed a chance to catch a faerie."
"Oh… I should have told you right away… I've already finished the replacement for Left Bird. I don't need faeries anymore." Your face flashed with pure, unadulterated rage and frustration, and you leapt off your stool and slammed your head repeatedly against the wall. "Ummm, Garfakcy, you really shouldn't do that…"
"All that work!" you huffed, fist clenching hard enough to open the wound again and causing it to bleed through the bandages.
"Yes…" I mumbled pathetically, and you growled under your breath in a disappointment—we had not needed to kill humans after all.
"Don't worry, your chance will come. There will be carnage galore." I smiled devilishly down at you, and was answered by a sharp glare.
"Fine. But right now… We have got to clean up this room! How did one first aide box get so messy?! And you never put the books back!" You pulled another summoning act, whipping your apron and a ribbon out of thin air. I was pushed to the back as you flew into a cleanly rage, injuries all but forgotten. When another stack of books were being shelved, you turned to me again and repeated your earlier question—only to have the answer rudely cut short by another one of my silly mistakes. I'd picked up a cup on the table, thinking it to be some of your tea.
"You know, that's Sickness Enhancer." I jerked the cup back from my lips as quickly as possible, juggling it to keep the liquid from spilling.
"Who put this cup here anyway?"
"That would be you Master Kharl." You turned on the stool to fix me with a serious stare. "So, that cave… Did you…"
"You're persistent today Garfakcy," I smiled gently, "I placed spells on the entrance and exit of the cave, and then I let some demons loose inside, just for fun. No one will be carrying the treasures out of that cave." I shifted to a more comfortable position on the desktop. "I won't let the Dragon Lord have his way."
"You could have sealed the Treasures away completely… Why didn't you just do that?"
"Nadil would be most upset if the Three Treasures were to fall into the hands of the Dragon Lord, and we wouldn't want the Treasures released into the world either, but…"
"You want to see Nadil's minions squirm a bit, don't you?" Guilty as charged. You griped briefly about the lack of bloodshed, a common complaint of yours, and I was forced to satiate your interest with a more formal explaination of the Treasures.
"They were tools made by the King of Arinas, the very man who killed my Master. The King of Arinas…" Just the thought of him brought back images of the bloodshed I had found that day, so long ago. Rage leapt and burnt inside me, causing me to lose control over my normally tame form and ki. "I should have killed him back then… Now I will kill him a thousand times over." The oppressive atmosphere must have frightened you—I could almost feel you stiffen and shrink back from me. I immediately dragged myself out of the macabre thoughts, if only for your sake.
"So that's the story…"
"Now you understand why I can't allow anyone to run off with them. Once inside the cave, the only way to escape is to exit through a special gate I prepared… It's a shame the Earth Knight did not go in. We would have been able to reduce the Dragon Lord's manpower."
"I'll kill him," you snarled, animosity dripping off the words, "he's due for an ass-kicking!"
"Not yet Garfakcy, there are more important things to take care of…"
"Really? Like cleaning up the messes you make?" He waved a crumbling book threateningly in my direction and received only a sheepish grin in answer.
"I have a condition! It makes it hard for me to find things!"
"Oh, and all this time I thought you were just a pig." I shuffled the insult aside in favor of more serious business.
"That's unimportant." Right Bird answered my call and bated down from the rafters. "Now, using the power of the Left Bird, we will resurrect my master."
"Shall we name it, the Left Beast?" You blinked slowly once, and I could tell you were wondering just where the creature was.
"She has already chosen a name," I chuckled. "We are to call her Sinistra."(2) As if the name itself could rouse her from sleep where all our talking had not, a black form shot suddenly out of the shadows, crossing the room as a dark blur and knocking you forcefully off the stool.
"What the—!" She stood over you, four clawed paws pinning your small form to the floor. Amethyst met jade in a deep and soul-penetrating stare. For a long moment, none of us moved, and then she bent suddenly forward and licked your face. "Ew, germs! Get off me!"
This one smells of you… She allowed you to push her away and turned to stare in my direction, I like him. He is also interesting. Yes, I silently agreed with her.
Despite your reservations about germs, you seemed to have no problem petting her, and from the pleased pair of smiles (one quite a bit more fanged than the other) beaming at me, I had a feeling I was witnessing the beginning of a fast friendship. It was fated I suppose… I'd always heard that dogs were man's best friends—given, she was a demon dog and you were not quite the standard human boy… Eh, technicalities.
"You are feeling better then, Shinisu?"(3) I asked, taking in her much more alert appearance.
Yes, the powers are fusing well enough. You left off rubbing her fur for a moment to shelve the last pair of books, and then we all swept off to the parlour for late afternoon tea. We were almost our own confused parade, winding down the corridor: a bird, a boy, a dog and demon lord… Well all right, 'lord' might have been stretching things. A dead continent's not much of a kingdom to rule over…
Later, I watched the waning moon in silence from my bed, taking in each of its' broken forms in the multi-faceted window. I wanted to sleep but I was also afraid. It had been nice to see the Star Princess, but something about the dream from the night before felt ominous—like a normal shadow cast at the wrong angle for the light that was shining. There was simply something off. I don't know when I finally drifted into sleep, but it must have been quite late.
I did not dream of shapes in the fog or of the Star Princess—instead there was only a boundless darkness. I felt that I could run forever and never reach its edges. And in the darkness, Rath's voice whispered softly, endlessly.
Tapping into others' minds… resurrecting the dead… controlling souls…
'Who are you talking about Rath?' I tried to call, but the blackness stifled the words before they could ever leave my lips.
Who are you talking about Rath?
Me?
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Translation Notes:
(1) – I don't know which of the Three Treasures belongs to whom (except that Diolasis belongs to Cesia…), and I don't even know if one them can actually save you from dying… It seemed to work well for Kitchel when she got stabbed… So yeah, that and the fact that "Salbacion" is written as "Saabeishon" in Japanese (which can be transliterated as "Salvation"…) made me decide on that order for the Treasures.
(2) – Shinisutora is the correct Japanese romanization for the Left Beast's name. Accounting for the devoiced Japanese vowels, the correct pronunciation of her name should be "Sinistra". Coincidentally (or not, obviously), Sinistra is Italian for "left". Many other Dragon Knights characters take their names from Italian, including Fedelta ("loyalty") and Tintoretto ("pastel colors").
(3) – Both Garfakcy and Kharl call Sinistra by the pet name "Shinisu" in the original Japanese version. It's pronounced "Sinis", but I like the way Shinisu looks, so I left it that way.
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Author's Notes: Well, there yah go. Some parts of this chapter I was so happy with, and some parts I just hate utterly. Particularly the timing of it. All the events in the book were so disjointed I had to try and stick them all together in a coherent manner without too much extra boring stuff or cutting out anything important. What did you all think of Sinistra? Too crazy/out there/stupid? I really hope not! (I like her talking…) All in all, I think I could have done better, but this will have to suffice. It's pretty much just filler for the next chapter. Gil comes back! I think I'll throw in a bunch of flashbacks and build on the Kharl and Gil conflict. And then there's Garfakcy's animosity to deal with too… And the meeting between Kharl and Rath. Joy, so much work ahead of me! I'm so glad I managed to finish this before the new year… XD And if there are a lot of grammatical mistakes in this chapter, well point them out... But I blame lack of sleep. It's 3 AM right now, and I woke up at 4:30 AM this (yesterday) morning.
Review Responses:
Random Irony: Yes, I also wondered what the heck the Star Princess was doing… But she's clearly got some connection to Rath. I really need to sit down and translate book 25… It looks like the answers are finally being given! v.v I LOVE Bierrez too. I was so sad when he died, and then so happy when he came back. I'm glad you liked Rath's transformation. I was worried that maybe it was a little too out there! T.T Thanks so much for reviewing!
Leeayre: Sorry that I didn't get to book nine yet. That's next chapter, and it'll be pretty much Gil-centric. With a little bit of Rath. And Star Princess drama. I was frustrated when Rath ate Bierrez too… I was like… THAT'S IT!? No reaction shots, no dramatic bloodshed? But I think the only time I really shook/attacked a book was book 11, when Alfeegi died. I was in the bookstore and I was so angry I threw the book and hit someone! Thankfully the person wasn't angry… And I had intended to buy the book anyway. When it comes to Japanese, the way to tell things apart is to look for particles, which separate parts of the sentences and also for the "ru" and "ta" and "te" that end verbs. Anyway, I hope this chapter wasn't too pitiful… And after such a long wait too. v.v' Thanks for reviewing!
Yami-Chan and the Unrealistic: Hee hee, I'm glad you liked it. Tokyopop is too slow! And then their translations are so bad it's not even worth waiting for! Learn Japanese and read it straight, lol (I'm slowly translating 25 now…) I'm sorry for this pathetic chapter… T.T But thanks so much for reviewing!
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