Author's Notes: Um, yeah…lavender hair or no, it's staying brown in my fic. Anyway, this will be another sluggish installment, but I'll be putting more action into this story starting next chapter. So stick around!
Also, this was a much harder chapter to write than I had originally thought. It took a helluva lot of effort to get into the heads of our main characters and detail every emotion and reaction. I really hope I accomplished this and did a good job. It took a lot out of me, so please, have mercy.
Summary: After living in seclusion for nearly three years, the only thing that Zelgadis wants is to continue his life in such solitude. But the nightmares that have been plaguing him for months became too painful to ignore, and he finds himself traveling the familiar path to Seyruun once again...
Chapter Six
'revelations'
The worst is over now, and we can breathe again
I want to hold you high, you steal my pain away.
Amy Lee & Seether
- -
It is so hard to think with this torrent of emotions rampaging through my heart, snatching away everything I am and submerging me in a grave of anxiety. I use those words because that is exactly how it feels – like a coffin, keeping me trapped and suffocated where no one can reach me. I won't let them.
- -
When Seyruun's magical defenses faltered, Sylphiel grew worried. She and the princess had worked diligently with a small crew of clerics to build those barriers not three years ago, upon Amelia and her father's sudden request. Sylphiel was a polite, well-mannered shrine maiden, knew better than to ask invasive questions of the royal family. So when Prince Philionel had solemnly asked for her help in strengthening Seyruun's defenses, she had graciously accepted and rolled up her sleeves to aid the princess in getting the job done.
But today she felt that magic weaken considerably, and it wasn't her own. She had heard the news circulating throughout the city that was now her home, the excited chatter of the townsfolk that spoke of the miracle that had happened amongst the streets. According to the buzzing news that traveled along the proverbial grapevine, the princess had done the impossible and cured an incurable disease. Sylphiel herself had been locked away in the temple all day, reading the reports of a plague outbreak in the Coastal Alliance States, when an apprentice relayed the day's happenings to her.
Sylphiel knew not of the man that had supposedly helped Amelia in healing this individual, but she did know that the princess must have had to expend herself quite drastically to cure his fatal illness. While she was proud of her fellow white mage for going to such great lengths to help one of her people, Sylphiel felt the consequences in the atmosphere around the castle as the magic faltered and dimmed.
They gave me a home. If only I could rebuild the shield alone so that Amelia-san wouldn't have to be bothered…
But she knew it wouldn't be that easy. The defenses were as strong as they were due to the combined power of the two priestesses. Sylphiel alone couldn't compensate for her partner's missing half of the spell, no matter how powerful she was in the art of white magic. And now with the castle susceptible to any attack from Mazoku, she felt more than a little anxious.
She sighed and laid down the report that she had been mindlessly reading over, stretched her arms over her head. She would just have to request an audience with the princess tomorrow to remedy the situation. It had been a couple of months since she had last spoken to Amelia, but she was sure that she would see the severity of the predicament and would help immediately. It was the only way.
If only I had been there today. Then I could have helped shoulder the burden and she wouldn't have had to weaken her life-force so much.
Her mind was just starting to turn to the question of who had helped her, when she heard the temple's front doors creak open.
She looked up in confusion. Outside, dusk painted the sky a dark gray, evidence of what hour it was and how long she had been sitting there at her writing desk. Her work had given her cause to stay late that evening, well after all of the other clerics had returned to their homes. She didn't have any appointments lined up either. But sure enough there was a figure there, a shadow that slipped through the doors and hovered in the entryway.
Sylphiel pushed away from her desk and stood. "Can I help you?" she smiled hesitantly.
The person wore a billowing velvety cloak, meant to conceal the body and shadow the face, but she could make out the delicately arched eyebrows and high cheekbones of a woman as she seemingly glided closer.
"I certainly hope so," the strange woman responded loftily. She tossed her head back and her hood fell away to reveal tresses of glossy black hair and a condescending expression. "You are the accomplished Sylphiel Nels Lahda, are you not?"
Sylphiel blinked in surprise at the woman's bluntness and fidgeted under her unwavering stare. "Well, I am Sylphiel, yes. And you are?"
She chuckled and shook her head, but a clear revulsion was evident in her deep blue eyes. "I am nobody to this place," she nearly whispered. Her features hardened then, and she stared coolly at the antsy shrine maiden before her. "But Seyruun's defenses have gone down, and you and I are going to work together to rebuild them."
"Um…" Sylphiel furtively glanced back over her shoulder to where the rear entryway lay. She slowly started to inch towards it. "Your concern is appreciated, but that really isn't something that we accept outside help for…"
The woman suddenly slammed a gloved hand down on the desk that separated them, and Sylphiel squeaked. "Maybe you're not getting my drift here," the stranger said calmly, though her gaze was powerful and steady. "But we have problems, lady. And I need your help, just as much as you need mine."
Sylphiel frowned at the woman's rudeness, didn't waste another moment before withdrawing her rod. She pointed it at the imposing figure, eyes narrowed in a way that she hoped seemed menacing. "I should let you know that I do not respond well to being threatened." Inwardly she cringed, disappointed with her meek and gentle voice that she could never seem to empower up to a louder capacity. But she raised her chin anyway and gripped her rod more tightly. "I may be a priestess, but I know the Dragon Slave."
The woman only raised her eyebrows at her claim, and that deflated Sylphiel's ego quite a bit. She had been hoping for a more terrified reaction, like whenever Lina's name was spoken in front of a crowd of innocent patrons on the streets. It was true that she lacked the infamous dragon spooker's intimidation and frank mannerisms, but the Dragon Slave was still a mark of power that Sylphiel had worked hard to attain.
"How did someone like you learn to cast the Dragon Slave?" the woman asked skeptically.
"Oh…well, I really just had to watch closely, but I suppose that indirectly I learned it from Lina--"
"Don't say that name," the woman interjected abruptly, thrust her palm in front of Sylphiel's wide eyes. With her mouth set in a thin line, she turned her back on the confused shrine maiden, cloak swaying regally with the motion. "Gawd, seven years and she's still the talk of the damn continent," she muttered.
"What was that, Miss?"
She waved the question away. "Nothing, we are wasting time. You must trust me, Sylphiel. Someone planned for this to happen."
With both her curiosity and deepest fears piqued, Sylphiel slowly walked out from behind her desk and took a few cautious steps forward. "How do you know that?" she softly probed.
The woman shrugged, let an ironic smirk tug at a corner of her mouth.
"Just think of me as a very observant ally."
- -
It hurts to breathe, it hurts to just lay here and feel my heart beat. The thousands of tears that I have shed have left me feeling so hollow and drained. What am I supposed to do? How can I get through this? Everything hurts so much, and all I want to do is lie in bed and cry.
- -
The sorrow that hung in the air was stifling, the sky beyond the single window black and ominous, as if it weren't the sky at all – but a hollow abyss, swirling and howling wildly against the rattling glass. A single torch was lit in the far corner of the room, flickering with a snarling fire that cast the room in monstrous shadows, forms that were warped and twisted and ravenously reaching toward the willowy figure that stood facing an intricate round mirror. She had one hand gracefully pressed against the wall in front of her as she gazed listlessly at her own reflection, locks of raven hair streaming to one side with the slightest tilt of her head.
The stone floor on which he stood was jagged and freezing, numbing the soles of his bare feet as he slowly stepped into the creaking room to approach the vision of beauty. A flowing white nightgown wrapped around her slender frame in rippling silk in a very pleasing manner, and yet it seemed almost too angelic, made her seem so much older than her innocent nineteen years. The weak lighting flashed shadows across the exposed skin of her shoulders and back, pockets of darkness that did not belong on the portrait of purity that she was exhibiting.
She raised her other hand, pressed that one against the wall too as she leaned in closer to her reflection. The pain and depression he felt emanating from this graceful young woman had his heart racing with worry and he stopped several feet away from her in uncertainty.
There was an annoyingly insistent pounding against the window that he tried to tune out as he spoke to her. "What is this place?" he tentatively asked her, furrowing his brow at the wretched shadows that crawled across the room.
She didn't look his way, didn't even jump when he had made his presence known to her. "I do not know," was her soft reply. Her voice was eerily flat, but not from indifference. It was hopelessness that he had sensed, and it scared him.
"What are you looking at?" he tried again, trying to keep his own tone calm and leveled.
She didn't answer him right away, only moved her chin this way and that while she continued her curious inspection. She finally rested her forehead against the glass with downcast eyes. "I want to know what he sees in me."
"What who sees in you, Amelia?" he gently probed.
She sighed then, let her eyes drift closed. "How am I supposed to know?" she whispered. The shadows around them grew thicker and larger, coloring to a deeper black that smothered her skin and stained her lovely nightgown. But she was oblivious to it, eyes closed to the effects of the room around her.
The pounding grew louder, and he had to strain his ears to hear her next words. "It's just too damn much, Zelgadis-san…"
His hands shook at the sense of defeat that laced her quiet voice. His vision darted from shadow to shadow as they slithered and slunk across the floor, all hungering for the angel before him. He took a step forward, wanting to get her out of this stone prison and away from the lurking evils that so greedily wished to consume her.
Her eyes flew open at his approach; a web of cracks suddenly cut through the mirror and shards of glass flew everywhere, splinters and chunks embedding into her smooth skin while other pieces fell to the floor around her, a littering of promised pain. She didn't even flinch, instead turning her gaze to finally rest on his shocked expression. He had to fight down the nausea that clogged his throat when he saw what was there, glaring at him.
"Stay back!" she screeched, blinking against the blood that pooled at the bottom of her eye sockets. Several drops spilled over in crimson rivulets, trailing down her soft pale cheeks in bloody paths. She slid down the stone wall, pressed herself against it as she looked at him fearfully.
"It's just too damn much, Zelgadis-san," she repeated, quieter this time. He reached his hand out to her, but the pounding was deafening, gripped his heart with such paralyzing force. She looked up at him through her tears of blood, sniffled quietly.
"It's here."
The window shattered, and the blackness devoured her.
- -
He jarred awake with a cry on the tip of his tongue, one that he was able to clamp down on at the very last moment when realization flooded back to him of his whereabouts. He was breathing hard, panting almost, flickering his gaze around the darkened room as his heart rate began the process of slowing to a normal beat. His sword was at his side, and he gripped its handle with tightly bottled emotion, the familiarity of the object helping to put his overworked mind at ease.
It was just another dream.
Moonlight trickled in through the open set of balcony doors, kissing every surface in the room with a sweet silver glow. He looked hard for demonic shapes in the darkness of the room's corners, but found only filmy shadows, gentle outlines in the night that held no significance whatsoever. The room itself had a cozy feel to it despite its lavishness, and when he couldn't sense any malice lurking about, he let himself exhale with relief.
Only a dream.
He stretched his legs out along the fluffy blue carpet. A lovely breeze was continuously drifting in, scented with grass and flowers and rain. It gave a small measure of comfort to his stiff body, sore from where he had been crouched for hours, his back against a wall while he watched over the slumbering woman in the plush bed before him. He had taken his residence there after briefly returning to his room to retrieve his trusty sword, and on an impulse, he had also grabbed a certain old keepsake.
He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but he was loath to admit that the events of the day had worn him down as well. The night visions were terrifying and heart-wrenching, but the sleep had been much needed, though he knew bed rest was necessary for a full recovery.
There were, however, more important things to tend to first.
Zelgadis drew himself to his feet. Amelia was sleeping deeply, her body still mending from the strenuousness of the day's occurrences, but still he walked over and peered closely into her face. It was smooth and relaxed, no lines of worry weaving their way through the soft skin there, evidence of a peaceful and carefree slumber. He was even tempted to crack open an eyelid, but knew that he couldn't risk waking her, couldn't jeopardize the refuge her mind had finally found after the exhaustion it had been subjected to.
He settled for tucking her blanket more securely around her, and made his way out to the balcony.
- -
The white-hot pain was still blindingly present, but the vision was not. He let Chaos devour him, spike through his mind and stab into his very essence, the blackness and wretchedness of the abyss grabbing and shredding any thought that he possessed. He kept his entire being devoted to Chaos' demands, showed his loyalty to it by letting it devour everything that he was. This was the deal that he had with Chaos. Chaos never refused him.
Until now. He still saw nothing.
He should have been angry. Furious. Enraged. But he wasn't. Instead he backed away from the radiant and colorful mists, fingers of black vapor reaching out to him greedily as his body reformed safely away from Chaos' grasp, and he laughed into the shimmering void. It responded by shrinking away, the colors molding themselves back into the blackness in which they had fled from.
Behind him, his loyal servant knelt patiently. "What did you see, my lord?"
He was still laughing, a throaty, evil rumble that carried across the dimension in horrifying vibrations. "I saw nothing, Kreoss," he admitted.
"I'm sorry?"
"I saw nothing," he repeated. "Chaos showed me nothing."
Kreoss sputtered. "What? But it always shows you what you wish to see."
"This was not Chaos' doing," the dark entity generously clarified. He slowly turned around to stare down at his kneeling servant, a lopsided smirk evident on his face. "Someone cast a protection spell around the castle."
"That's not possible," Kreoss immediately denied.
"Excuse me?"
He cleared his throat and lowered his head in respect, hoping to recover from his improper manner of speaking. "Apologies, Master. But your target was most certainly incapable of performing such a spell in the condition that I left her in. Her magic is what keeps my kind out, and I took the necessary actions to weaken that."
"You are right, Kreoss. Do not think that your accomplishment went unnoticed by me."
Kreoss bowed his head deeper. "Thank you, Master."
"Unfortunately, this means that someone else took up the responsibility of summoning a protective ward. Not only have you lost your window to access the consecrated grounds of the palace, but now I cannot even see into it."
That smirk was still on his master's face, pushing Kreoss into a state of mild confusion. What was there to smile about when their plan had just completely backfired? But he knew better than to ask such a blunt question, lest he lose his tongue for his insolence. "What do we do now?" he carefully asked instead, the natural question masking his true concerns.
The greater force turned back to the dancing colors of the abyss, felt Chaos tug at his mind once more, beckoning and seducing him to fall into its arms. But Chaos couldn't give him what he wanted this time, and so he had to refuse. "I may not be able to enter your world yet, Kreoss, but I can still reach out to the people in it; or rather, they reach out to me. Yes, those poor, wretched souls with such pained hearts and wounded prides, those beings with no hope left in their world that call out to me even across the dimensional walls. I can hear their desperate cries from here."
He lifted a hand, glided it across the brilliant kaleidoscope, reveled in the sparks that ignited beneath his fingertips. "Do not worry. I have eyes and ears on the inside."
- -
Her blood was everywhere. She died right in front of me. I saw her eyes, so wide in pain and shock, slowly glass over as she released her final breath. Yes, I saw it all. And I did nothing. I couldn't save her. I am worthless.
- -
It was well into the night when Amelia stirred awake. Her body felt heavy as lead, sore from the abuse that she had put it through, but still she cracked open both eyes to the darkness that surrounded her. A lazy smile spread across her face when she inhaled the faint scent of lavender and sandalwood, precious aromas that blanketed her senses and made her feel at peace.
His smell…
She rolled over onto her left side, facing her balcony doors. As promised, he had left them open, and she reveled in the glorious moonlight and lukewarm breezes that rushed in. The light wind caressed her face and toyed with her hair in total serenity, and she tenderly breathed in the night air. His fragrances became stronger as her mind drifted into a higher awareness, and with that came the noticing of the long shadow that split through the moonlight on the carpet, traveling all the way out to her balcony.
She slowly sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and tousled her hair to remedy any case of bed-head. She looked down at her apparel and frowned. Her short leggings still fit snug and comfortably, but her shirt, once a crisp white, was now wrinkled and bloodstained. She scrunched her nose, but crawled toward the edge of her bed and gingerly hopped down. Changing wasn't really an option; he would hear her rummaging about and she didn't want him to think it was for his benefit.
Her legs were stiff, muscles tight, but she had the strength to stand and walk with enough ease. She used the edge of her bed first for support, and when she met the corner, she was able to wean herself off of it to pace on her own. She crept over to her balcony doors and cautiously peered around the edge of the doorway.
As she had predicted – as she had known – he was standing there with his hands on the stone railing, staring off into the night. His silhouette was outlined by the brilliant silver that showered him, his dark hair blowing gently in the breeze that wafted past him and into her room, touching her face, too, as it drifted by. Her heart fluttered slightly at the thought that the same wind had just touched them both, even though that wasn't exactly a unique occurrence. But for some reason, it felt more intimate now.
She smiled faintly and stepped out on the balcony, bare feet coming into contact with cool marble. A shudder went through her when she saw his body tense upon noticing her presence.
I really hope this doesn't turn awkward or anything…
He turned around, let his gaze roam over her figure and appearance. The look in his eyes was unreadable, but she glanced away, feeling a blush creeping into her cheeks. "I know, I know. I look like hell," she said weakly, brow furrowed and lips pursed.
She heard the smirk in his voice when he responded. "No, you just look like you've been through hell, princess."
Her eyes snapped forward and she pouted ever so slightly. "Hey! I've seen you in worse conditions, Zelgadis-san."
"And how many times was it because of you?" was his light retort.
"Only, like, once or twice..."
She thought he would chuckle, but his expression turned to one of severity, and he seemed to be studying her, staring hard into her eyes. She raised her fingers to the bottom of her eyelids, smoothed them over the skin there self-consciously. "What is it? Is something wrong with my eyes?"
Maybe I didn't get all the sleep out. Oh dear, how embarrassing!
She rubbed them a bit, trying to do so as femininely as one could in such an unglamorous predicament. It seemed that he had realized what he was doing though, and he promptly shook his head, dropping his gaze to some object he was toying with in his right hand. "No, nothing. Just making sure you're alright."
"Oh." She let her hands fall away from her face and squinted, narrowing her eyes to see what he kept turning over in his hand. A blue stone caught the moonlight, glimmered beautifully beneath it while resting on top a pink ribbon that folded silkily into his palm.
Her eyes widened in awe. "Is that…?"
"Yes." He was smirking again, and he plucked the ribbon from his palm to dangle it between them. "I went to get it after you fell asleep. I don't know why…it just felt right."
"You really kept it." She stepped closer to him, held her hand out beneath the swinging bracelet to cup the familiar sapphire stone. The gem itself wasn't what mesmerized her, but the feeling that washed through her.
'I'm only loaning it to you, Zelgadis-san. I want it back, okay?' the memory flew back to her.
"I know we had a deal," he said, mimicking her very thought, "but I'd like to hang onto it for a while longer. Like a good luck charm."
She paused, hesitant and almost fearful. He never would have said something like that back in the day. Has he really changed so much?
Can I afford to believe it?
She smiled and dropped her hand. "Of course." Guess I'll find out.
Zelgadis slid the bracelet into his pocket and leaned his back against the stone railing, propping his elbows on it while he just stared at her. His demeanor was one of scrutiny and calculation; she felt like she was being picked apart by his piercing blue eyes as she averted her own. Nervously, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
He cleared his throat. "I never realized how nice summer is in Seyruun," he attempted for the sake of making small talk, and was about to ramble on about something equally unimportant when she cut him off.
"It happened out there, at my mother's grave."
He was slightly taken aback at her abruptness and shift of topic, but she had always been straight and to the point in the past. At least he wouldn't have to go through the arduous task of crafting mindless conversation, and that suited him just fine.
He slowly turned to see where she was pointing; a spot almost miniscule to where they stood on the seventh floor of the castle, but he could still see a clearing in the woods, framed by emerald green trees and thatches of abundant flowers. A tall, shining monument stood atop a raised stone platform, encased by a thick rail that circled around its edge.
Her mother's?
He had never noticed this tribute to the late Crown Princess – the view from his guest suite only showed him the castle's courtyard and front gate. A frown creased his brow when he thought of Amelia, forever mourning the passing of her mother, adding insult to injury by being greeted every day with the view of this gravesite.
"It was maybe six months after we had banished Dark Star," her soft voice drifted through his musings, and he pulled his gaze away from the elegant memorial to rest on her face. "It was the anniversary of the day that she died. I went there to light some incense and say a few prayers."
He noticed how her hand had lifted to rest against her belly as she swayed slightly, eyes glossed over in a fashion that spoke of her trip into the past. He stayed silent the whole time, let her speak from the memories that she took herself back to.
Amelia drew in a deep breath, slowly rubbing small circles against the scar that lay just beneath her stained shirt. "I was so caught up in my own thoughts of her, that I almost didn't notice him coming. I felt it though, just in time – that darkness, that utter malice that I feel whenever I come close to a Mazoku, it was lurking just behind me. I was alone, but I made the instant decision to fight him."
Already his mind was whirling. She fought a Mazoku by herself? At that age?
"I was shocked, and scared, but I felt the adrenaline rush through me at his nearness. I whipped around and fired an Elmekia Lance, and he stumbled away from me in pain."
She stopped suddenly, let a tiny smile grace her lips as she focused on his attentive features. "You taught me a lot about offensive fighting, Zelgadis-san," she complimented him, and his eyes widened. "You showed me how to be alert to what's around me, and not get so sidetracked by my own passions. It could have been a lot worse if it hadn't been for that wisdom."
"Er…glad I could help," he nodded slowly.
She bit her lip then and he saw hesitance flit through her azure eyes, a part of her unwilling to go on with her story. He was about to make a very impulsive gesture on his part that he would scold himself for later; he was a moment away from reaching for her hand to stroke it comfortingly when she smoothly turned away to walk over to the balcony's railing, staring up at the night sky that glittered with stars.
And then, very abruptly and before he had the chance to stop her, he watched as she hopped up onto the railing with the feline grace of a driven lioness.
"Are you insane!?" he yelped and sprang forward, put his arms out on either side of her balancing form as a sort of safety net.
She glared down at him. "Please, I've done stunts like this my whole life! They've almost all ended well."
"Uhh…"
"Hush!" she snapped, and put one foot in front of the other on the wide slab of stone. "It's easier to talk about it this way, when I have something to concentrate on in the present." She huffed and took another tentative step, pleased with the steadiness that she somehow miraculously maintained. "He had a piece of cloth that wrapped around his head and hid his face from me, but I didn't think anything of it. His sorcery, however, was a match for mine, but still I had faith that the gods were on my side and I would win in the name of justice."
She executed a perfectly neat back walkover, oblivious to the man on the verge of having a heart attack right below her. "Victory!" she flashed her trademark V-sign in his face.
"Amelia, will you please get down from there?" Zelgadis grunted, every muscle of his being painfully tense and on edge. Any other night he wouldn't have worried, but levitation wouldn't be able to save her if she was still too weak to cast it.
But she still whined, "I'm fine!" and pushed her long bangs away from her face in annoyance. "I started to get tired, but I could tell I was wearing him down too. And then I saw it – the perfect moment to cast a Ra Tilt. It was difficult, considering our surroundings and how I didn't wish to soil my mother's resting place, but the timing and his placement had been perfect. I hit him dead on, in perfect execution."
This was the part where she would normally declare her victory over her evil opponents, Zelgadis contemplated, but the look of anguish that crossed her face then tore that prediction of his apart. Her eyes glimmered with sadness as she stared out into the woods that stretched far below them.
"I let my guard down," she whispered. "I thought I had gotten him. But he suddenly shimmered back onto this plane, right in front of me…" once again, she pressed her palm into her abdomen, shook her head solemnly at the memory that her mind's eye so vividly replayed. "He ran his sword straight through me."
G-Gods…Stunned, Zelgadis soon found himself gritting his teeth, a familiar feeling of all-consuming fury beginning to crawl through his veins. She was stabbed; an alone, unarmed, and unsuspecting girl. What coward would do something like that?
She seemed to notice the angry feelings that were simmering within him, because she offered him a sad smile that did nothing to light up her eyes. "I wish that was all. I reached up to pull off his mask, I ripped that darn piece of cloth away, and what I saw behind it made me faint."
Zelgadis was all ears again as he waited for her elaboration, clenching and unclenching his fists to try to calm himself down.
She sighed, rubbed her hands over her face in a gesture that showed how weary she truly felt. "It was the same assassin, Zelgadis-san," she murmured into her palms. "The same man that killed my mother." The name that left her lips was said with venomous hatred, her fingers curled as if they were about to claw away the very skin on her face.
"Booley," she whispered murderously. The aura that radiated from the princess was one of rage and disgust, sorrow and hate – a mixture of several black emotions that rumbled below an expression she hid away from his view. He hated it. It wasn't her.
She lifted her head, stared at him with blank eyes that he wanted so desperately to spark with life again. But her retelling of the events just kept getting darker and darker. "I don't really remember what happened after that. I just remember waking up and feeling so disoriented. I had no idea where I was. It was dark, and I was so cold…"
He did not like where this was going.
"I lost track of time, but I must have been in there for hours. My body hurt so much, I couldn't move, I couldn't scream. It was so cramped, and I could barely breathe." He saw a faraway and slightly panicked look come into her eyes, noticed how her breath came a little quicker, how her hands began to tremble.
"I was sweating, I was crying, I didn't understand what was going on…I just didn't understand," she whimpered and snarled her fingers through her hair. "I was trapped and alone. I was in so much pain…"
"Stop," he interjected suddenly. He didn't want her to go on, didn't want to know and understand anymore. The curiosity was gnawing at him, but his worry was worse. She was breaking down right in front of him, and that pained him more than he would ever like to admit. He never wanted to see her like this. "It's okay. You don't need to say anymore."
"He buried me alive, right next to my mother."
Everything in him froze, including his heart.
No. No, no, no…
With everything finally out in the open, she seemed to snap back to reality. Her eyes slowly became more focused, her breath began to even out. Her arms dropped back down to her sides and she took a gulp of the fresh night air. Her hair blew freely in the breeze once more.
She was here in the castle, right outside of her bedroom, nowhere near any small space of confinement. She was safe. And now he knew everything. She was still shaking very slightly, but not frighteningly so. It was over. She had finally told the story to someone.
She took one more deep breath before staring apprehensively at the man below her. He wasn't moving, wasn't even looking at her. She bit her lip. Had she told him too much? Did he think she was weak now?
"Zelgadis-san?" she asked worriedly. "You're really pale. Are you okay?"
"No." It was the answer to both her question and the denial of her accident.
Stabbed…buried alive…
Kill.
He didn't realize when he started shaking his head, subconsciously rejecting the tale that she had just laid out before him, the truth that he thought he had wanted to know. Unwanted images crept into his mind, visions of the terrified princess screaming and clawing against the lid of a box, several feet into the earth where she wouldn't be heard. He thought of the tears that must have streamed down her cheeks, of how much she probably squirmed and struggled and kicked and pounded.
I had no idea.
"You…you broke out of it, right?" his voice wavered. It was an awful ordeal for anyone to go through, and he wanted to hunt down the thing that had done it to her, but it was not inescapable. There were a myriad of spells that she would have had in her arsenal to free herself from such an appalling confinement. Surely she had thought of something to break herself out of it once her fear had subsided…
"There was nothing I could do," she shattered his already weak hopes. "I couldn't even speak. My lips…" Her fingers traced the outline of her mouth. "He sewed them shut."
His blood ran cold. His heart was pounding, his own body tension making him nauseous. Trapped in a box six feet under, she couldn't even call out to anyone. She must have felt so scared and alone, must have doubted that anyone was coming to save her. And he knew she hated that more than anything. She hated to be the victim.
How long had she been down there, he wondered. Did she still cry? Did she slowly lose hope as the hours rolled by and the threat of suffocation came ever so closer? Did she give up and think that she was going to die down there, right next to her mother?
Did she pray for him to come find her?
We are connected, whether I like it or not. If I had been here, I would have known…I would have felt her panic. I would have heard her screaming, even with her mouth sewn shut. I would have found her.
And she knows it.
It all made sense now, why she hated him so much, why she was so reserved and secretive and bitter. Everything came crashing down around him in waves of shocked understanding. He wanted to scream, he wanted to punch the wall in frustration.
But more than that, he wanted to kill.
Zelgadis closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath. "How did you get out?"
Amelia suppressed a tiny squeak of fear. It was that same control again, that same low tone that made her feel so uneasy. She turned to face him with a sort of urgency in her eyes. "It all ended okay, Zelgadis-san. Trevor-san figured it out and found me soon enough."
That did nothing to calm him, and he scowled. Yes, good old Trevor-san.
"And what happened to Booley?" Kill.
She shrugged weakly. "Never saw him again. I asked Sylphiel-san to help me cast a protection spell around the castle grounds. We haven't had any disturbances since then."
"I see."
It should've been me. I should've been the one to pull her out of that grave. It should've been me.
"Zelgadis-san…?"
All my strength, all my training…was this the cost? Was it worth it?
"I'm sorry," he blurted, and he heard her sharp intake of breath. "It happened because I wasn't here. That's why you're so upset with me, because if I had followed through with my promise to return after finding my cure…I would have been here to help you. I understand now, Amelia, and I'm sorry."
She was expecting to feel anger, satisfaction, maybe even a hint of vengeance. He finally felt the magnitude of his decisions, the consequences of his actions. She had mourned his absence in her life for three years, was infuriated when he told her that he had found his cure long ago and yet still stayed away for some other selfish reason. She wanted to feel fulfilled at his apology because she thought he deserved to feel remorseful. She had wanted that all along.
But instead, she only felt guilt and compassion of her own, and it made her very anxious and uncertain.
Because this isn't right, she cried inside. I can't blame him for what happened. He didn't know what was going on. I just wanted him here…
"It's not your fault," she said to him softly, but firmly. "I wish you had been here with me, but it's not your fault. I never thought it was. I was just alone, and upset. You hurt me, Zelgadis-san, but enough is enough. I'm so tired…"
He sighed, moved over to the railing to rest his elbows just by her feet. "I can't change the past, Amelia. I wish I could, believe me, but I just want it to be over now. I want us to get past this. You're still my friend, and I don't want to fight you anymore. I just want to protect you." He glanced up at her hesitantly. "If you'll let me, now."
"Protect me?" she echoed. She turned away from him, closed her eyes and relished in the breeze that tickled her face. They were bouncing between dark topics, but she knew it all had to come out sooner or later. They were above and beyond sugarcoating things. "I guess we've got another player in town, then?"
She felt his surprise even with her eyes closed. "I'm not stupid, Zelgadis-san. I can feel it too. Is that why you're here?"
He didn't quite know what to say to that, too shocked by how quickly she had picked up on his motives. He was expecting a long conversation of explaining and convincing, and retellings of his awful nightmares that he sorely did not want to convey to her. But it seemed that the princess, sharp as she was, had already figured some of it out.
"Yes," he answered her. "But I don't know much about it."
"It's okay," she hung her head. "I've felt it for a while now. There's this darkness inside of me, every ounce of anguish that I've felt ever since my mother's death just snowballing into something dreadful. And something out there is pulling at it." She fisted a small hand against her chest, right over her heart. "I can feel it."
She slowly turned her gaze to stare down at him, and a few tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. "I'm scared," she quietly admitted to him, and his heart ached in response.
"We have defeated dark lord after dark lord," he said to her, his voice clear and strong, unwavering. "Whatever this thing is, we are going to kill it, Amelia."
She made a small noise in the back of her throat, attempted a tiny smile while she fully turned to face him. "Now that you're here?"
He smirked back up at her. "Exactly."
Not much was left to say after that. With a final roll of her shoulders, Amelia bent over and rested her hands on his shoulders, and he instinctively reached up to put his hands on her waist to help her hop down from the railing.
"Well, you have to admit that it's pretty good timing at least," she timidly offered as he gently placed her down on the marble balcony floor. "Lina-san's party is only two days away. Everyone will be here, together again."
Crap. He had forgotten all about the fiery sorceress. But Amelia had a point – the rest of their party was irreplaceable. Their help would most certainly be needed.
"We'll dive off that bridge when we come to it," he grumbled and gently pushed Amelia back into her room. "Until then, rest up. You're going to need it."
- -
I am nobody here. I am not fit to bear the title of Crown Princess, and I just know that deep down inside, Father agrees. I cannot handle the pressure anymore. I must leave.
Don't forget me.
Gracia
He crumpled the old letter into his fist, eyes darkening to the deepest black. He knew every word by heart, but still he insisted on torturing himself night after night, reliving the pain from that day so long ago.
He would get her back, no matter what.
Disclaimer: I do not own Slayers.