Left in a Demon's Care – Part 2
Chapter Four: Adjusting a Demon's Nature
Winter
Zelgadiss, Gourry, and Valgaav were a few weeks out of Seyruun and making good progress toward the destination of Xelloss' choosing. The festivals that Lina had enjoyed had passed with the fine weather. The unlikely trio was accosted by rain and as they climbed higher and further north, hail, sleet and, finally, snow.
"How much further?" Valgaav whined.
"We have to make at least ten miles a day or more," Zelgadiss said.
"We've gone twenty, for sure," Val insisted.
"No, we haven't," Zel said in his clipped fashion as his irritation mounted.
"Well, I ain't going no further." Valgaav halted where he stood in the middle of nowhere.
"You'll freeze."
"What do you care? I'm freezing anyway."
"No you're not. You're just tired, hungry, and unused to it."
"Fuck you," Val grumbled.
Zelgadiss spun on a heel and stalked off, leaving Val to stew.
(o)
The small villages and towns spread apart with forests and wild lands in-between. Gone were the cheerful festivals and land of plenty. Gone also were any lingering vestiges of Lina's upbeat attitude. Xelloss was hard-pressed to recall why it was that he considered her special at times—ever! She was grouchy, quick to find fault, and full of grievances. Her back, her hips, her cramps, her inability to move as she had and do what she once did with ease, each topped the rotating list of complaints.
Next she would start blaming him for her situation! Had he even kissed her? He couldn't recall. One thing he wasn't—a sexual predator. It wasn't in his nature to pursue women, or men for that matter. Oh, perhaps an idle seduction now and then, when it forwarded his cause, but even then it wasn't his forte. Deception, intrigue, now those traits were where his interests lay. A touch of mystery... whimsy... Blink!
"Xelloss!" she cried out after he disappeared.
He reappeared a minute later with an announcement. "There is a town and it's not far, but it's off our path. You can see a healer there. I'll wait on the road just out of town."
"You're leaving me?"
Xelloss folded him arms over his chest, looking angrier than he knew, steeling himself from the onslaught of her shock and fury, but mostly her wounded feelings. He had disappointed her. "I'll take you to the edge of town. See the healer and I'll be waiting for you on the way out." He grabbed the reins and pulled the horse in line with his new direction. He closed off his mind to her jabbering and marched on with the deliberation of a demon with a mission.
(o)
"That boy's got a lotta 'quit' in him," Gourry said, keeping up with Zel's accelerated pace with his longer strides.
"No kidding. He needs to grow a tougher hide."
"Don't dragons have scales?"
Zel sighed. Gourry missed his point. "I meant that he needs to shut up and bear the obstacles in life with a better attitude."
"Reminds me of you, when you were his age," Gourry said.
Zel's shot him a hard look. "I was never that bad."
Gourry grinned. "I don't know, maybe so. You had Xelloss to snap at and then...yeah, you wouldn't have stopped dead in your tracks, you'dav just taken off on your own and saved us the whining part."
Zelgadiss groaned. "I was terrible, wasn't I?" Noticing Valgaav running to catch up, he slowed his pace.
Gourry shrugged. "We all were in our time, but we changed." He stopped and leaned over to adjust a boot strap, or, as Zelgadiss believed, to give Valgaav the opportunity to catch up. "We've made a few mistakes along the way. I'd hate to think mine haven't been forgiven."
Zelgadiss' eyes widened with understanding; although, this time, it was he who had missed Gourry's point. As far as Zel was concerned, he was absolved of wrong doing, and that was the important part. Amelia hadn't held his fling with Lina against him, although she didn't know its total extent; he hadn't told her that he and Lina had slept together. And, he'd left Lina on good terms. No harm done. Right. No harm done. Clear conscience. "Val is young. I forget he's had to start all over, and even with that accelerated dragon growth, he's just a kid who's never suffered any hardships. Yeah, he might be only fourteen."
"He is?" Gourry turned as Valgaav huffed beside him. "Say, when's your birthday?
"I'll be sixteen in February. I was born in the year of the bear. When's yours?"
"April first!"
"No, the year!"
Gourry looked puzzled and scratched his head. "Why, every year, I suppose."
The glazed-over expression on Valgaav's face was rich and Zelgadiss hid his smile. A conversation with Gourry could often stultify his mind, too. "Gourry's going to be thirty and I'm a couple years younger."
Valgaav squinted from beneath his shock of mint-green hair. "You don't look that old."
"I guess that's a complement," Zelgadiss said with a half-smile. "According to the map Xelloss' gave us, the next village is less than a mile up the road. I think it's time to eat and winterize our wardrobe."
Gourry looked baffled.
"Shop for clothes," Valgaav translated with a hint of a smile. "That's cool."
The wind picked up, ruffling the mint hair, blowing wisps of his own dark hair into his eyes, and sending a warning chill past Zel's insubstantial cloak. "I forgot how much my body has changed. I feel the cold now," Zel clarified. Looking over Val's trim, human form, he added, "You can use a heavy coat and lined boots. And don't worry; it's on me, er...Amelia."
He was rewarded with a broad smile and a cooperative attitude.
(o)
"I have definitely spent too much time in the company of humans. Definitely!" Xelloss drifted a while longer on the astral plane. Restoring his spirit and re-centering his mind was paramount. "Imagine forming an attachment to one! It's unnatural and dangerous. I was losing my grip. What if I were to take total leave of my senses and start thinking like one!"
If only he could enter the ancient dragon shrine and collect the evidence himself, then he wouldn't need Lina Inverse, then he wouldn't need to keep up this charade of camaraderie with a needy human girl. But he did. He couldn't get past the wards, not even a demon as strong as him, maybe even especially him, but a human with the right skills could. Lina could. Lina. Her name rested softly on his tongue and his spirit swelled.
"There's no time!" he wailed in his mind into the void that tracked endlessly in all directions.
He remained a few minutes longer, mulling over his significance and place in the world, before he guessed it was time to check on Lina. He transported back to the physical plane, took up a place by the fence post where Salez was hitched, composed his mind and features, and waited.
His aura shimmered slightly when he saw her. There she was with tendrils of flaming red hair, which had escaped her hood, streaming out at the sides like blood. Xelloss felt Lina's mood change from fear and anger to relief and joy when she sighted him waiting for her. It was a jab to his conscience, such as it was—she was so dependent on him. It was in fact a very strange feeling, being valued by a human, appreciated. Lina had really been afraid that he might have skipped out on her and now she was indescribably happy to see him. He felt that, too. And it made him tingle inside knowing how important he had become to her.
Before this, he was important only to his master and then just as a tool, providing service at her command. Deep in his core of self identity, an inviting sensation stirred, kindling that spark of warmth he had had before, which grew, spreading outwards and upwards.
"Damn you for scaring me that way!" Lina shouted. "Why didn't you just tell me that the village was a powerful White Magic center and made you feel queasy or however it is you feel around the stuff? What's the matter? Didn't you think I'd understand? That I care that you aren't flawlessly powerful, able to resist anything? Gods, Xelloss, you are such a typical man sometimes."
Even Lina's sharp cry couldn't shatter his new feeling; instead, the radiance splintered and expanded to the tips of his fingers, his toes, and his staff glowed faintly. His mind was giddy for an instant. The atmosphere surrounding them crackled with the intensity of their shared emotions.
"I am?" He raised his eyebrows unsure whether to thank her for the compliment or laugh at her insult. "And the place, for your information, didn't make me queasy, as you put it—not exactly. I just needed some time alone."
Lina didn't buy his excuse. "Uh, huh. Well, you got it, now it's time to move on."
"Okay. By the way, did you get some relief from your afflictions?"
"Some. You'll be happy to know they'll all be gone in a matter of weeks, er, week."
"Really? That's comforting news." He couldn't help smiling.
"Oh? Then you don't get it. The baby's due in a week, probably less, not two."
Xelloss froze, the warmth cut by the chilling turn of events. As he absorbed the information, his fist tightened on his staff. "I see. Well, we'd better travel as far as possible, as fast as possible, if we are to reach a town we can both tolerate—in time."
He pulled back into himself again, putting up a barrier to her emotional turmoil. He had a mission, a duty to perform, and he had wasted too much time. He had jeopardized it because he let Lina enjoy her travels. He had been soft and now failure was imminent if he couldn't get to the final destination in time. Now, he would have to push both Lina and the horse at a time they were both at their weakest. Damn the human frailties impeding his progress!
As if to test the demon's resolve and temper, the clouds lowered and the snow fell in earnest.
(o)
Zelgadiss was about to pass by the man, but Gourry refused to ignore the raggedy farmer standing by his horse with its bad leg. Valgaav stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched as Gourry approached the despondent looking pair.
"Need help?" Gourry asked.
"Don't think so. I don't know."
"Your horse okay?"
"No, I think it's got a sore leg," the man said. "This other chap said it was a broken leg and told me to shoot it."
Gourry straightened his shoulders and patted the horse's nose. "Why? Then you'd have a horse with broken leg and a gun shot wound."
The man's solemn face broke into a grin. He'd found someone who understood his dilemma. "That's what I said!"
"So, did he tell you what to do after that?"
"Yeah, he said: 'If it's not better in a week, shoot it again.' What do you make of that?"
Valgaav pounded his forehead with the palm of his hand and Zelgadiss drew a deep breath. "Maybe it's me," Valgaav groaned, "But are all humans this dense?"
"I'm human. No," Zelgadiss snapped, nailing the boy in place, a few pegs lower than the human race, with his azure glare.
"You are now," Valgaav muttered bravely, but ruined that effect when he backed swiftly out of Zel's reach.
Zelgadiss approached the animal, mumbling a few soothing words. The horse bowed his head to watch as the shaman bent over and lightly touched the afflicted leg. A golden glow pulsed from his fingertips and disappeared beneath the fur. "Don't snort at me! I'm healing you, you stupid beast."
"What's yer friend doing?"
Gourry smiled, beaming confidence. "Fixing your horse. He can heal with magic."
"I won't have to shoot him?"
Zelgadiss stood, turning to address the animal's dull-witted owner. "No, I'd advise against it unless you mean to kill it and thereby put it out of its misery."
The man blinked. "Well, I thank you most kindly, sir."
"Sir Greywords," Gourry supplied. "Rezo's heir!"
"Gourry..." Zel growled. Why now of all times would Gourry recall that?!
The man's eyes widened significantly, "Well, Cepheid save us, it is the Red Priest, the Great Healer!"
No amount of reasoning could convince him otherwise, so the three men left him aghast and humbled in the road. "What made you say that?" Zelgadiss asked Gourry.
"You'll see!" Gourry said brightly, and strode onwards.
Rumors traveled fast and valued information even faster. By the time the threesome reached the next town it was midnight. A lone inn stood out with its lights aglow, but the child dashing out the door, greeting them with a lantern, was the biggest surprise of the day. "Come on this way. Dinner's holding for you." The child skipped back through the doors in a flutter of scarves and flapping oversized jacket sleeves. "They're here! The Great Healer's here!"
(o)
They had been traveling for hours without stopping, through the night and into the following day. The horse plowed through the deepening snow until it could move no further. "Follow me," the demon ordered the animal.
With a sweep of his staff, Xelloss cast a spell melting the snow from the path. As he continued ahead, the horse lurched forward, following, a step at a time. They met no other people on the road. The snow fell faster, so heavily that day turned into night. Xelloss drew them under the cover of trees, hoping the worst would pass and allowing the horse to rest. If the horse was lost, he'd have to carry Lina the rest of the way. He dismissed that thought. He couldn't dwell on the feel of Lina in his arms again, held close enough that he could feel her heart beating, reminding him of the vast gulf separating their two races. Or was it that the similarities out weighed the differences that bothered him so?
"We're not moving?" Lina said. Her voice was faint and not optimistic about the reason.
"You need to refuel your body or it stops generating heat," Xelloss said, bluntly. "There's no place to rest any better." He dug through one of the bags, hunting for a reasonable assortment of food items.
"How about something hot?" she asked. A smile flickered across her face, but with one look at Xelloss' humorless expression it faded.
A frown seemed engraved between his eyebrows. He was not benefiting from her suffering and had been expelling copious amount of energy to cut through the blizzard. He took a step, stabbed his staff into the ground and with a blinding flash the tip burst into flames. Like a torch, it blazed giving off a little heat. Melting snow sizzled as it fell past, some evaporating in the magical fire. The horse moved closer and drank at the water pooling at the base of the staff.
"Help me down," she said.
Xelloss wanted to avoid contact so he levitated her up and over to the ground, where she landed awkwardly. "Gee thanks." She would have started grousing, but he shoved a handful of jerky and a bag of mixed nuts and dried fruit in her face.
"Eat. We'll be going again in ten minutes."
"Lovely mood. What's your gripe? You'da thought you were the one carrying me all this time." She chewed thoughtfully a few minutes, waiting for a reply which never came. "Why don't you try teleporting me to wherever we're going to?"
His expression was nearly one of contempt. "You think I hadn't thought of that before?" He turned away, adding, "Human's don't travel well through the astral plane. You'd never survive. The baby wouldn't either."
"Oh. Well, that's that then."
He knew that if he lowered his barrier he would feel her hurt and scorn. He hated the way things were turning out. Lina would never trust him like a friend again if he continued to treat her with rudeness and insensitivity, but what choice had he? He couldn't fall under her spell again. He could devote himself to following his master's orders and should without fear of tawdry emotions getting the better of him and driving his decisions off the track and onto more elusive side roads.
Xelloss straightened his shoulders and blasted through a wall of snow, which had slid across the road. Yes! He would complete his mission satisfactorily, as always, because of his superior demon resolve. How did humans ever manage to balance their free-wheeling desires against their solemn duties and accomplish anything? The human race was hell-bent on destruction and, well, wasn't that a good thing for him?
(o)
"Okay," Zelgadiss said. "You are forgiven. Not that I like abusing the family name, but this time, and this time only, you understand, things worked out."
Gourry shrugged. They had a room with three beds waiting for them after they finished off the very hearty meal which had just been set before them—all out of respect for the grandson of their much beloved Red Priest Rezo. "News travels fast."
Most of the overnight clientele were in their respective rooms, they guessed, since the most of the dining tables were cleared. The bar was busy, probably the locales and a few travelers in heavy winter boots. Most of the outerwear had been cast off, hanging on hooks by the door. Zel, Gourry, and Valgaav kept theirs draped over empty chairs close at hand. People were drifting in, getting their drinks at the bar, and settling themselves in for a recap of the twenty-four or so hours since they'd last seen one another. The barkeep watched and listened to the ongoing conversations while polishing a glass.
They continued to eat in silence, Valgaav ravenously when they heard a racket over at the bar. Three fair-haired, young men and an older chap, whose thinning white hair stuck out at odd angles from under his hat, were causing a disturbance.
"Looks like the old man's had too much to drink," Zelgadiss noted as he sipped his tea.
The man stood on stocky legs, wavering slightly. His diction was a little slurred, but they could hear him distinctly as he leaned into the nearest young man with sandy hair.
"Your mother is a vicious, greedy woman!"
"Shut up and go sit down," the younger man said. He turned his attention back to his beer.
"Think they'll start a fight?" Valgaav asked.
Gourry shrugged. "Might. The barkeep isn't doing nothing to stop them, though."
"Don't hope for one. Brawls can turn ugly and I just want a peaceful evening," Zelgadiss said.
The old man pushed his gray-streaked hair over his ears and poked one of the other men with a gnarled finger. "I sleep with you mother whenever I want!"
Disgusted, the younger man turned his back away with a toss of his blonde curls. "Go bugger off!"
"Ooh, harsh," Valgaav growled. His attention was glued on what he hoped would turn into bloody fight.
Zelgadiss caught the glimmer in his eye. "I thought dragons were supposed to be pacifists."
Gourry jabbed in the air with his fork. "Look, he's going for the third guy."
"The bar man is smiling. What is it? Think he wants them to fight?" Zel wondered if a little 'demon' wasn't in every man.
The old man wobbled towards the third blonde fellow, but before he could open his mouth, all three young men turned around and yelled, "Dad, go home!"
Zelgadiss buried his smile in his mug while Gourry and Valgaav laughed aloud, but soon he too cracked a grin and chuckled. "Guess we were wrong about those guys."
"A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking, mom always said." Valgaav's eyes lowered to meet Zel's. "So, you can smile. I thought you were depressed or angry at me all the time."
"Is that right?" Zelgadiss reached across the table and pulled Valgaav's black headband down covering his eyes. He was lightening fast, the act completed before the boy's arm flew up to stop him. "Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm. Your mother told me that."
"Hey!"
"The only substitute for good manners is fast reflexes," Gourry said.
"Your mom taught you that?" Valgaav asked as he yanked off the scarf entirely.
"No, Lina," Gourry said with a smile. "She was full of sayings like that."
Zelgadiss nodded. "She sure was."
"Think she's really okay? It's gotta be a tough time for her," Gourry said.
Zel shrugged. "She's tough. If she found a way to get..."
"Inseminated?" Val offered a clinical word choice.
"Yes, by that damned demon, when she has all the magic to stop it from happening, then it must be what she wants. Lina gets what she wants or resolves it on her own; don't forget that. You remember her telling Amelia: 'If at first you don't succeed, destroy all evidence that you tried'?"
"Yeah, she lived that one pretty much," Gourry said. He took a long draft of his beer. "Still, I dunno about this."
"I am. It's not like my life," Zelgadiss said. "When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane and going the wrong way."
"Lina again?" Valgaav guessed.
"No, me. It's just a fact of life. Mine." He looked down at his hands, flesh-colored and smooth-skinned. "Until recently, that is."
Valgaav nodded. "Yeah. Sounds familiar. I mean, for me for every action there is an equal and opposite criticism. I feel like I'm diagonally parked in a parallel universe."
Zelgadiss laughed aloud while Gourry just smiled. Feeling that he was on a roll, and feeling the unusual effects of two pints of beer, Valgaav continued his rant. "I mean take romance crap. Why do people give each other flowers? To celebrate various important occasions, they're killing living creatures? Why restrict it to plants? 'Sweetheart,'" he said in a raised falsetto voice, "'let's make up. Have this deceased squirrel.'"
Gourry chuckled and sipped at his beer, and hailed the waiter for a refill. Zelgadiss was laughing so hard and trying to control himself at the same time that tears ran from his eyes. Valgaav relaxed more. These were old jokes, but he knew he was telling them well and spirits needed lightening after the grueling pace they'd set all day.
"Yeah, okay, so... Why do they call this a building? It looks like it's finished. Why isn't it a built?"
"A built!" Zel sputtered, covering his face and wiping his eyes.
"Yeah, and that stupid story mom would read to me at night when I was little, really made me believe humans were morons. In mean, all the king's HORSES and all the king's men? Are you kidding me? No wonder they couldn't put Dumpty Dragon Egg together again. Just what did those idiots expect horses to do, anyway?"
Gourry let out a guffaw, seized his fresh mug from the waiter, downed it in four gulps, and handed it back, "'Nuther, please."
Zel signaled for refills for both himself and Valgaav. They'd sleep it off.
Valgaav twirled his empty mug and stared at the rings on the table. "Isn't it weird that we drink milk, stuff designed to nourish baby cows? How did that happen? Did some cattleman once say, 'Oh, man, I can't wait till them calves are done so I can get me a hit of that stuff'?"
"Hey, Zel," Gourry said, speaking slowly and carefully. "He's pretty good company on a long trip like this. Why didn't we invite him before? You know when we were messing with all those tough demon dudes?"
Zel's head feel to the table, face down as his body shook with laughter. It had been a very long few weeks.
End, Chapter Four: Adjusting a Demon's Nature