Author's Notes: This was, by far, the hardest piece of written material that I have ever...well, written (sorry, my brain is a bit fried and I can't come up with anything wittier). I am not good with action scenes. Like, at all. But I tried very hard to balance the actions of the 6-8 individuals that will be involved, and I hope you all will be pleased with it.
And if you are pleased, or even have a complaint that you wish to voice, then please do. I hate begging for reviews – I think it's a bit pathetic, honestly – but receiving only two for my last chapter (out of fifty-seven visitors) was quite discouraging, and made me feel even more pathetic. I write with my readers in mind, and I cater to what I think you want to see happen. So please just take a minute to let me know what your thoughts are on the story and how I'm doing. It means the world to me, I kid you not. :)
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 Eight
'overthrow'
Good morning day, sorry I'm not there
All my favorite friends vanished in the air
Three Days Grace
- -
"But it's heavy!" Her lower lip trembled with panic as she let the tip of the sword clang noisily against the stone floor.
Trevor smiled warmly at the eleven-year-old, kneeling down to adjust her grip on the weapon's hilt. "Princess, you can't expect to fend off villains with your old wooden sword, now can you?" he chided, though his eyes were kind and playful.
Amelia blushed and looked away. "A true heroine can fight villains with her own magical powers!"
Such innocence and naivety were refreshing for a seasoned soldier of his experience to look upon, and for a moment he felt guilty. He had fought to protect her generation from the gruesome aspects of war, slain hundreds of men for his dream of peace, and yet he had been tasked with passing down the art of the sword to a child. He was marking a blemish upon her purity.
And he had already tarnished one sister.
He placed a callused hand on her shoulder, his goal now to alleviate her worry. "Well of course she can! But this type of training is also important. What would you do if you were trapped in an anti-magic barrier?"
She grinned impishly, eyes wide in excitement. "I'd use my powers to break out of the barrier!"
He bit back his laughter. "It doesn't quite work that way, highness." He ignored the sorrow that pricked at his mind as he pointed toward the tall, slender teenager on the other side of the training room. "See how well Gracia is doing? You'll be just like her one day."
His beautiful, tarnished creation. Her movements contained a high level of elegance and refinery as she carried out her exercises, her inner grace pouring into every step and swing of her sword. She struck a final pose of the particular exercise she was performing, and when her soulful eyes met his, he hurriedly looked away.
"I still don't know how she does it," the nine-year-old admitted, oblivious to the exchange. "I would never have pictured her with a weapon." She looked down at the sword she held in her own tiny hands and sighed.
"Or myself, for that matter."
- -
In a throne made of black, crackling energy, he sat stoically still, his long fingers thrumming rhythmically against one armrest. His obsidian gaze drilled thoughtfully into his soldier kneeling before him, one head cocked in quiet speculation. At the moment, he was very disturbed; the powerful barriers that now protected Seyruun were stronger than ever, throwing a wrench into his carefully thought out plans. And after waiting thousands of years to finally put his scheme into action, disrupting hic-ups to stall him further were absolutely unacceptable.
He let loose a deep, rumbling sigh; it was time for drastic measures to be taken. He could feel the darkness that haunted her slowly begin to pull away from him, evolving into something disgustingly purer. And it was all because of that man's return, that Zelgadis.
But there was still time, her heart had yet to heal completely. Unfortunately, he had to use this pathetic lower being in front of him to do his work. But it would not last forever, he reasoned. Soon, he would have her, and she would be the one to bring him his salvation.
"A gathering, you say?" he finally spoke with a narrowing of his eyes.
Kreoss nodded solemnly. "Yes. In honor of the acclaimed Lina Inverse's birthday." He smiled darkly. "The slayer of Dark Star."
"Dugradigdu was an imbecile. He deserved to perish if a mere human girl and her lackeys were enough to suppress him."
"Still," Kreoss carefully interjected, keeping his head bowed in both fear and respect, "I would like to take the proper precautions. With that newly formed shield in the way, I'm afraid I won't be able to use your power within its confines."
A sigh. "You are right." His master lifted his hand from the armrest, held it out in front of him as his onyx eyes stared shrewdly at his faced-up palm. Snarling mist snaked in from the vortex around them, snowballing and bonding until it coalesced into a jagged shard of gleaming black metal.
Kreoss, who had lifted his gaze upon sensing his ruler's power, felt his jaw drop in wondrous awe. "That's..."
"Yes. It is a fragment of the sword I used in my battle against Tearfied, before the blade shattered and sank into the abyss." With a quick underhanded toss, he carelessly threw it to his waiting soldier. "Make sure it gets to our contact on the inside. He will know what to do with it to make the city's defenses falter."
Kreoss curled his fingers around the smooth object, felt a jolt of ecstasy race through his body at the seductive sensation of corrupted power. He grinned maniacally.
"I won't disappoint you, my lord."
- -
The sound of strangled guitar notes screeched through the emptying ballroom, the last of the guests clamping their hands over their ears in disgusted grimaces.
"My ears! Oh Gods, make it stop! Please make it stop!" Lina wailed and promptly buried her face in Gourry's chest. He enfolded her in his arms and rubbed her back soothingly, but his muscles convulsed in great effort to bottle his laughter.
Amelia gave a firm shove against Zelgadis's shoulder, and the horrible, grating noise finally ceased and took mercy on all of their aching eardrums. "Zelgadis-san!" she shrieked with laughter. "Can you please stop goofing around and play it right this time?"
Zelgadis smirked back at her, clutched his prized guitar against his chest defensively. "Just what are you implying, princess? Are my skills not up to par with those of Seyruun's illustrious orchestra?"
"Those skills aren't even up to par with a fingerless blind man's," Lina snapped hotly. But he saw a playful merriment twinkling in her ruby-like eyes, noticed a twitching smile trying to crack the pout that she so stubbornly insisted on maintaining.
The truth is, Lina, you're still the open book that you always were. Part of him – the rarely seen amused and teasing side – wished to express the passing observation aloud, see how the infamous Bandit Killer would handle such a raw truth about herself.
But his sensible side was far more prominent, so instead he let his fingers glide over the guitar strings once more, this time strumming the tune of an enrapturing melody he had composed himself during his journey in the Desert of Destruction.
"Only because you're the birthday girl, Lina," he relented with a smirk as his guitar crooned the mystifying ballad of the badlands.
Treading upon that vast expanse of hot, golden sand and barren wastelands, his disheartened soul had turned to music to bring some semblance of beauty into his desolate world of cold solitude. His nostalgic compositions were the manifestations of what little hope he had stubbornly clung to during those angst ridden times, and in the end he was left with a series of hauntingly beautiful melodies that told his story of the sand.
Eyes clouded over in far-away remembrance, Zelgadis lazily swept his gaze across the nearly vacant ballroom. All of the nobles had left, and Philionel was off distributing payment to the cooks and waitstaff. He played his musical memoirs for just his friends now at the endless persuasion of the princess; the night had transpired exceptionally well, rightfully leading into a cozy after-party between their tightly knit group of adventurers. But the prim quartet that was hired for the night couldn't stay past their designated time slot, and with everyone still so wired and jovial, Amelia had presumptuously volunteered Zelgadis to fetch his guitar and play for them instead.
He was reluctant at first; Zelgadis had an affinity for music, but was only used to playing for himself. But she'd soon resorted to begging, her ultramarine irises churning with hope and innocent expectations, and he knew he was a goner. How could he deny her anything after knowing what his stubbornness had done to her in the past? Hells, he would've crawled to the highest point of the Kataart Mountains and strummed on his guitar there if she'd asked, that was how deep his guilt still ran.
Well, maybe that's exaggerating things a little. She's still just a girl.
He chanced a glance at her now, couldn't stop himself from smiling as Gourry spun her sloppily across the dance floor in lighthearted jest, her uninhibited laughter howling through the echoing room as she haphazardly twirled her way back to him on the balls of her bare feet. The wine they had all been drinking throughout the night might have been a bit too prevalent in their blood streams, but it was a care that did not concern any one of them at the moment. Zelgadis couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed himself so much.
In an effort to keep up with the other dancing couple, Zangalus swung Lina a little too low in a flourished dip, and the redhead slipped out of his grasp and collapsed onto the floor for the second time that day. She glared up at the swordsman with anger crackling in her crimson eyes. "Damn it, Zangalus! Do you completely lack coordination? Gawd, no wonder Gourry beat you so effortlessly all those times!"
Still sore over that particular subject, Zangalus didn't offer her a helping hand, only held one over his heart in mock offense. "I'll have you know, Lina Inverse, that I have been training quite hard since those days. As a matter of fact, I bet I could beat him in a match right here and now!"
His pompous claim was quick to catch Gourry's attention. "You're on!" he exclaimed with a toothy grin as he dipped Amelia with the grace that Zangalus had apparently been lacking. The two men reached for the swords belted at their hips after their dancing partners were safely out of harms way.
"Oh no, I don't think so." Martina marched to stand between them with arms spread wide on either side of her, one palm facing each swordsman. "We've all had a bit too much to drink tonight, and I'm not risking having my wonderful husband's gorgeous face go to pieces by a drunken slash of a sword. Uh-uh, no way."
"Aww..." the two men chorused in groans of disappointment, but the queen was firm, shooting a warning glance at her husband beyond the reach of her fingertips. Her eyes dared him to object further, but all Zangalus did was swallow fearfully and nod in obedience.
"Yes ma'am."
Amelia's laughter was uncontrollable, bursting through her lips in a frenzy of broken giggles as she desperately clutched her sides, her body hunched over and wobbly from the force of her spasms. She had long since lost her tiara for the night, placing it in the care of one of her handmaidens and then eagerly tying her hair up in a messy bun. Her high heels lay discarded underneath a table nearby, carelessly tossed next to Lina's in a contempt that they mutually shared for the wretched things. Despite having switched her beverage of choice to water more than hour ago, her skin still glowed with a rosy sheen, her eyes glittered with mirth and excitement. She was sober, but hyper. And she was having the time of her life.
Once she'd finally righted herself, she fanned herself hopelessly with her hand. "It's a shame that Sylphiel-san had to leave early," she noted to the crowd with a hint of sadness and a guilty shrug.
"Yeah," Lina chimed in with a grimaced expression, one hand unceremoniously rubbing her backside as she continued to glower in Zangalus's direction. "I mean, why would anyone be so quick to hurry back to a boring temple, of all places?"
"She's very committed to her job, Lina-san," the princess soundly defended. "What she does really matters. She develops cures to the country's most devastating diseases every day!"
"Fascinating," Lina droned and plopped down next to Zelgadis. "Come find me when she's killed a dark lord. Then we'll compare life achievements."
As soon as those condescending words were spoken aloud, she visibly flinched. The alcohol had loosened up her roguish tongue too much, dissolving her already thin verbal filter and further emboldening her. "Sorry, shouldn't have brought that up," she mumbled grumpily in an effort to backtrack. Lina never denied her self-confidence, never pretended to be a humble and frilly young woman with years of etiquette training. But while saving the world several times was definitely something to be smug about, each situation had been far too dire and frightening for her to speak of so lightly. So what if she had the title of Planet Protector under her belt; it would have meant nothing if she'd lost her friends in the process.
Zelgadis smirked good-naturedly, nimble fingers still picking methodically at the guitar strings. "Never fret, Lina." He shared a somewhat sheepish, knowing glance with Amelia. "You just might be able to prove yourself yet again."
Lina stared at him in confusion. "What are you going on about?"
"I need some air," Amelia intervened, aimed a silencing glare at the ex-chimera in warning. Not tonight. Please? He hesitated, then shrugged and looked back down at his humming instrument. A sunny smile made its way across her face again. "I'm still feeling a bit breathless from laughing so hard. Would you like to join me on the veranda, Lina-san?"
"I would, but I've gotta teach," she swung her head in Zangalus's direction, "Sir Two-Left-Feet here how to dance, since Martina has apparently been doing a crummy job."
"Oh Lina, now that's just not fair!"
"Yeah, well neither is giving your husband the perfect instruction on how to be a bumbling idiot!"
"Why are you so mean to me!?"
Amelia slowly tip-toed away from the dramatic duo and the ensuing catfight, hiking her skirt up to her knees as she made her careful escape to the accordion-like doors that opened to the veranda. Even though it was built directly on the ground and faced only the dense thicket of trees ahead, it was still a convenient little area for guests to retreat to if they needed a breath of fresh air, or if they cared to listen to the calming drizzle of the stone-rimmed fish pond just meters away. Amelia had used the quaint patio many times to escape the frustrations that came along with most of the galas thrown at the palace.
Her bare feet stepped onto the flat granite flooring, and with eyes half-lidded in contentment, she strolled over to the railing in front of her. The smooth, velvety tune of Zelgadis's melody trickled into the black night, filled the air with mystery and grace. Amelia shut her eyes completely and lost herself in the stir of sweet, magical notes.
He's so talented. I wonder if he wrote all of these himself?
She was jerked out of her blissful, dreamlike state when she heard the click of the doors shutting behind her. Her eyes snapped open and she whirled around, her heart in her throat and throbbing painfully.
"Who's there?"
- -
Lina slapped her palm against her forehead, shaking her head in awed disbelief. "I give up. You're hopeless." Zangalus threw his hands up in the air and turned his back on her.
"Fine! I'm hopeless! But just to remind you, you're not exactly the prime example of a darling damsel."
"What's that supposed to mean!?"
Gourry chuckled as he walked up behind her, quieted her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him in surprise, his eyes twinkling warmly. "Come on Lina, let's show them how it's done," he winked down at her.
Her heart skipped a beat as a light blush bloomed in the apples of her cheeks. "Gourry..."
A sweet moment, lost on them again as sharp, heavy footsteps alerted the group to the presence of someone new.
Five pairs of eyes widened in shock, but it was Martina who voiced their thoughts with a shrill yell that ricocheted off the walls.
"Oh my gods!"
- -
"Forgive me," she lightly gasped when she noticed the figure standing before her. "I thought all of the guests had left." Amelia pressed her hand to her chest as she allowed her gaze to rake over the unfamiliar man's appearance, a nagging sense of apprehension tickling the back of her mind, demanding she cater to it and run away.
His confident posture and calm expression made it quite clear that the feeling wasn't mutual. "I was a late arrival," he said very simply. "I wanted my time spent here to be well worth it."
She pressed her back against the stone railing behind her, tried to shrink away from him as much as she could. Something about his aura felt scarily familiar, putting her in a state of great unease. He didn't look like a villain, though; he wasn't even wearing black. He wore white, in fact, a white suit with a royal blue vest and tie, and he had a crown of well-kept light brown hair.
"I am sorry to disappoint you, but the party ended over an hour ago," she attempted to reason in a steady voice. "I can have you escorted out, if you'd like."
He chuckled, a deep throaty noise that rose eerily into the inky heavens. It made her tremble. "That is where you are mistaken, Highness." He extended his hand out to her in invitation. "The party is just beginning."
- -
Trevor calmly strode across the marble floor with the still figure nestled in his arms, his eyes cold and blank while hers seemed to a hold a world of pain bonded with those sage green depths. His were narrowed; hers were wide open in suffering. Neither made a sound as they stopped several feet away from the group.
"Sylphiel!"
Gourry's shout resonated throughout the colossal room as he sprang forward, but it was Zelgadis who held him back with an eerily solemn look stilling his features. "Gourry, don't," he ordered softly, his troubled gaze roaming over the obsidian object that stood erect from the center of her belly.
"But it's Sylphiel!" Gourry pleaded with him, then snapped his ferocious glare onto Seyruun's general. "What did you do to her!?" he bellowed, withdrew his sword in a smooth flourish. Zangalus followed suit, mouth set in a grim line as he protectively shoved his wife behind him.
"You will answer us, heathen!"
With a quiet snort, Trevor released his hold on the paralyzed young woman, tossed her none-too-gently onto the floor at his booted feet. "Only what I had to."
"Gourry...dear..." Sylphiel whispered, and then her eyes shut as her world faded to black.
- -
Fireworks of panic and nausea exploded inside of her, and Amelia falteringly fell to her knees. "Who are you," she rasped as her hands flew to her stomach. I've felt this before.
"You don't have to be afraid," the man cooed in a falsely soothing voice. "We're meant to do great things together. It is His will."
"Monster," she whispered. "How did you get past our defenses..." She felt so powerless with the sickness clawing at her stomach, her eyes stinging with hot, blinding tears. Anxiety smothered her and she clawed at the fabric of her skirt. I've felt this before...
- -
Zelgadis was the last to draw his weapon, a feral growl rumbling in his throat as he gracefully slid the sleek blade from its sheath. "I knew I didn't like you," he grunted with murder in his eyes. "But why her? Why Sylphiel?"
Trevor shook his head a few times, a wry smile twisting his mouth into something cruel and hideous. "There's only one woman I'm after, you twit."
He swallowed, tried to force down the waver in his voice. "Amelia?"
- -
He approached her slowly, and she curled further into herself. "It's time for you to accept your destiny, Amelia."
My destiny...
"You're suffering right now because you can't handle His power yet. He can change you though. He can save you, like he saved me."
I've felt this before.
"Just come with me, and it will all be over soon. You don't have to be helpless anymore."
Monster.
Booley.
NO.
Self-conjured defiance burst in her chest as her gaze snapped up to meet his condescending stare. She narrowed her eyes, irises darkening into the color of tossing, turbulent ocean waves. "I am NOT helpless!" she screamed through the drilling pain, the dizzying panic, the suffocating evil. With raw hatred burning in her eyes, she channeled her fading strength into a single blow.
"Diem Wing!"
Kreoss hadn't been expecting that. With a surprised yelp, he felt his body lift from the ground and go crashing through the folding doors behind him, chunks of wood flying through the air and biting painfully into his skin. He skid across the ballroom floor, shouting obscenities as the rest of the group jumped in surprise at the sudden interruption.
Trevor walked over to him in curt, clipped steps, looked down at his crumpled form in annoyance. "Is this how it goes? I stab a priestess to grant you access, while you are bested by one?"
"Shut up," Kreoss murmured when he finally regained his wits about him and stood hastily. "She just caught me off guard. She shouldn't have been able to cast a spell in that state."
Zelgadis froze when he saw the monster's face.
"I really couldn't care less. I got the girl like you instructed and forced her to put my guards to sleep. I held up my end of the bargain."
"Yes, yes. And I held up mine, don't you worry."
Her swarming afflictions suddenly evaporated in a breathtaking whoosh, and Amelia shakily got to her feet, legs quaking with the physical exertion. She staggered into the room, eyes cast down in exhaustion. "What's...going on..." she wheezed, swiped the back of her hand across her lightly sweating forehead. Her worried eyes took in the sight of Sylphiel's body on the floor and she gasped. "What happened to Sylphiel-san?" she shrieked.
"Well, for starters, you've got a traitor for a general!" Lina screamed, circling widely around their opponents to make way to the princess's side. "What about you? What happened out there?" she rushed through her questions anxiously as she approached her best friend's swaggering form.
"I don't know..." Amelia's gaze snapped up, rested on the callous expression of her kingdom's top soldier. Her eyes shone with hurt and confusion. "Trevor-san?"
He smoothly looked away from her with calm indifference. "As I was saying, we had a deal."
"It's taken care of."
"And who the hell are you?" Lina spat. "You sure as hell picked the wrong party to crash!"
"Actually, I picked just the right one." Kreoss cocked his head curiously at the ex-chimera, who had yet to move or speak after the monster had made his impromptu entrance onto the scene. "Wouldn't you agree, Zelgadis?"
All eyes switched to him, and Zelgadis fought the lump of guilt that painfully clogged his throat. "Is that really you, Karson?"
"Surprised?" The Mazoku's lip curled in ferocity and he forced out a harsh laugh. "Finally, we cross paths again. Though Karson, I am no longer. He died long ago. I, my old friend, am Kreoss. That is the name that my master has given me."
"I should have known what you would turn into."
"Thanks to you," Kreoss countered, "thanks to the coward that you were two years ago."
Amelia wearily stared at Zelgadis over the monster's shoulder, expected to see his facial muscles contort with anger or denial at the unjust accusation. But instead she saw a flash of extreme sorrow flicker through his eyes, noticed the slight slump of his shoulders. "Is that why you're here?" he bit out. "To punish me for a mistake I made that long ago? And in the forest last week – that was you, wasn't it?"
"I tried to warn you. You were not meant to be a part of this. Now that lovely priestess might die, and you'll have another dead body on your hands."
Zelgadis's shoulders tensed as the same heart-twisting anguish tore through his insides. Be he maintained a cool, even stare, his steel grip tightening around the hilt of his sword. "I did not kill Kira," he forced between his clenched teeth, just barely above a whisper.
Kreoss scoffed. "Please. We both know it was your fault. Coward."
Fed up with waiting, Trevor growled. "Kreoss, our deal. I need to see it."
"Oh, fine." He smiled bitterly at the ex-chimera. "Looks like we'll just have to catch up on the good ol' days some other time." He feigned a sigh of exaggerated regret and snapped his fingers.
Ropes of black mist started to swirl before them all, a tornado of gaseous binds that snapped and crackled with golden sparks of energy. Lina immediately shielded her eyes from the blast of wind that exploded outward from the obsidian cyclone, her other arm flailing around to shove Amelia behind her.
"Flare Arrow!" she uttered into the flurrying tempest, but the spell crashed against a vine of onyx fog that had snapped out and subsequently diffused into sizzling embers. "Well, there goes that!"
Blond hair whipping wildly about his face, Gourry managed to shout over the howling winds. "Zangalus! You and Martina need to get Sylphiel out of here, now!"
"Forget it!" the other swordsman snapped back. "You're going to need my help!"
"She'll die if she doesn't get healed soon!"
"Come on," Martina pulled at her husband's hand eagerly. "Let's just do what he says, sweetheart!" she begged, tears streaming down her ashen face. "Please!"
With a grunt that no one could hear above the crackling air, Zangalus sheathed his sword in a hasty snap and let his wife pull him over to Sylphiel's prone body. He knelt down swiftly and picked her up in his arms.
Martina bit her lip in concern. "We'll take her to her temple. Someone should be able to help her there."
"I suppose that would be best." Her husband nodded his head in a salute to the rest of the group, and the couple scurried from the room in the midst of the surging chaos.
The gales began to die down as the ropes shrank together, coiling tightly to outline the form of a massive human being. They soon gave way altogether like a mummy being unwrapped, and the figure was uncovered in all his bloodied glory. His giant body hung from crackling vines that cuffed his beefy wrists, knuckles raw and blistered, face already splotched with puddles of purple bruises. His eyes were closed in his unconscious state, raven hair mussed in every direction.
"See?" Kreoss droned. "I keep my word."
Trevor nodded his approval. "Very well."
"That's..."
Lina gulped.
Amelia screamed.
"DADDY!"
As if that were the signal to start the fight, two swords were raised and clashed together in an instant. "What did you do?" Zelgadis demanded through clenched teeth as he struggled to push back the general's weapon. "If it's me you want, Karson, then let everyone else go! Leave Amelia alone!" he shouted to the Mazoku that stood away from them.
"Where was that attitude eight years ago?" he taunted. "Don't give me that fake pompous bullshit." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blond swordsman lunge for him, and quickly encased himself within a filmy shield of slithering shadows. Gourry slammed into it and was promptly sent sprawling across the floor.
"Gourry!" Lina's frightened voice carried over to him, but he quickly sprang back up.
"I'm okay, Lina. Be careful, he has a shield!"
Trevor grit his teeth. "Take the prince away already, will you?" He ordered as he tried to overpower the ex-chimera. He pitched his right leg forward and hooked it around Zelgadis's foot, swinging it up and knocking him onto his back. His scimitar arced downward, but Zelgadis quickly blocked the strike with his own sword.
"It's not fake," he roared in response to Kreoss's previous statement. He groaned beneath the crushing strength of the general. "And I'll die before I let you touch her." With a wild look growing in his eyes, he quickly pulled his knee to his chest and then snapped his leg out completely, delivering a swift kick into Trevor's groin.
"Argh!" Trevor staggered back, his face purpling in agony as Zelgadis calmly flipped back onto his feet, and they engaged each other again.
The wild clashing of metal-on-metal resonated throughout the room as they locked themselves in a savage battle, Trevor moving with an army-trained preciseness evident in every sharp step, Zelgadis battling with the fixation, grace and awareness that Luo had helped him to condition under his instruction. Animalistic fury gushed through his veins, threatened to overcome every fiber of his sanity, but still he quelched it, siphoned it into the smooth sways of his sword. Anger, while an incredible stimulant, could also be a a warrior's greatest distraction. Don't fall for it, Luo always warned. Be the one in control. Take action.
And so he did in a flurry of concentrated strikes, swinging with honed accuracy. Calm. Focused. Deadly. In his mind, there was no other option besides winning.
Eyes wide in terror and blurred with tears, Amelia roughly pushed past her best friend to come to Philionel's rescue, but her still-weak knees buckled and her trembling body pitched downward in a painfully jerking motion. Her knees cracked against the floor as her palms slapped down on marble, but it barely registered in her overworked brain as she cried brokenly over her hung and suffering father. Tears trailed down her cheeks in tiny rivulets as she curled her fingers into shaking fists.
"Daddy," she sobbed, pounded her fist against the ground in frustration. But the suffocating gales were sweeping in again, and before she knew it, her father had been carried away along the current of raven mists.
"NO!" she screeched, face torn in grief and agony. "Why?" she demanded of Kreoss as the tears cascaded with increasing urgency. But he sad nothing, only stared at her with those cruel slitted eyes as though he were disgusted by her display of weakness. She didn't care.
"Answer me!" she yelled in desperation, crawled toward the motionless monster. "WHY?"
He gave her a twisted smirk as he stood within his dome of crawling shadows. "It's time to go, Princess," Kreoss shook his head in mock sadness.
"No!" she resisted, temper flaring. "Source of all souls that dwell within the eternal and the infinite, everlasting flame of blue..."
Zelgadis heard her recite the very familiar spell and felt his heart leap in worry, terrified that her feeble condition wouldn't be able to withstand the power. He fought to shove his way past his opponent, tried in vain to get in range of her to at least chime in for the latter half of the incantation and shoulder the strain with her, but Trevor kept him at bay with quick and lethal offensive attacks that would kill him instantly if he were to take his eyes away from the battle for even a moment.
"Amelia, be careful!" was all he was able to yell between strikes. Gods, please be careful...
"...all power hidden deep within, be called forth here and now." Amelia hardened her gaze in defiance and conjured her last vestiges of strength. "Ra Tilt!"
The ring of blue flame rose from the ground and gushed around Kreoss and his shield, encased him in a waterfall of brilliance. She funneled everything she had left into the most powerful shamanistic spell known to man, prayed to the gods that it would be enough to destroy the evil and bring back her father. She felt her breath being sucked straight out of her body, tried to steady herself when her muscles spasmed and tore in their overtaxed state, swallowed the uprising blood that lined her throat. Her eyes teared and burned, but she hung onto every thread of the Ra Tilt, forcing every last ounce of her will into it. Like with the little boy and the father she healed, it didn't matter what happened to her.
I want my daddy back.
The spell wavered and thinned among an audience of shocked faces, having completed its course, and she fell forward with a quiet moan. The left side of her face collided with the floor as she collapsed stomach-down, her arms twitching on either side of her. Her eyes, blank and half-lidded, stared ahead at the blond swordsman that was racing toward her.
She heard a low, strangled chuckle out of her field of vision, and her heart plummeted.
"Amelia!" Gourry shouted as he ran, but a tendril of black smoke whipped in front of him and tossed him back into the wall. He grimaced as his partner fled over to him.
"It didn't work," Gourry said to her, and Lina nodded grimly. He rubbed the back of his head in pain. "Lina...you should cast that spell."
The sorceress looked back toward the monster, who was now panting heavily within a much thinner shield, his hands braced against his knees as he glared at the prone form of the princess. He wiped a thin river of blood that trickled down his chin, heaved a sigh of exhaustion as he righted himself.
"You can't beat it, Amelia," Kreoss struggled to say, but his face took on a smug expression. "You can't beat Death."
"Stop! Leave her alone!" Zelgadis commanded in near hysteria, but Trevor pushed him away again with honed expertise.
Lina only hesitated for a second before the incantation to bring forth the Ragna Blade was on her lips.
"What do you want from me..."
Kreoss raised an eyebrow at the mumbling princess. "You can still talk?" From his peripheral vision, he saw the redhead begin to cast and smirked. His body was mending quickly, his power regenerating at high speed, and he began gathering more dark, smoky energy into the palm of his hand. He would launch his master's Death Arrow long before her Ragna Blade would come to be.
A final tear escaped from Amelia's right eye and bridged over her nose as she saw him prepare a terrifyingly dark attack against Lina, so soon after she had injured him with everything she had left in her. And Amelia just let herself go, the acceptance of defeat weighing heavily down on her. I can't do this anymore. Gods, someone, please...just get us of here.
The feeling only barely registered at first in her exhausted mind; a pinprick of warmth on her ring finger that gradually bloomed through her palm and flowed up her arm's length. Her hand laid motionless in front of her face and she focused her dull eyes on Cepheid's ring, stared at it in open wonderment as a milky glow ballooned outward from her hand. Dull and muted at first but growing with intensity, it soon shed the entire room in a celestial white blaze.
Finally getting his chance to escape, Zelgadis staggered away from his stunned opponent, throwing an arm over his face from the dazzling light. He blindly made his way to the supine princess, saw out of the corner of his eye that Gourry had Lina wrapped in his arms and was holding her tightly off to the side.
"What's happening?" Lina cried with eyes clamped shut, her spell disrupted as she dug her fingers into her bodyguard's forearm.
"I don't know! Is it Amelia?" Gourry held onto her more firmly.
He was almost to her now. He could hear her calling out to him, her sweet voice weak and trembling.
"...Zelgadis-san?"
The figures around him began to fade and disappear; his stomach felt like a boulder had been dropped through it, his eyes watered mercilessly, his throat was dry and constricted. He saw Amelia squinting at him through the pearly blaze, one hand reaching out to him in frail desperation, and he pushed himself forward until he could latch onto her shaking arm.
A call has been answered. Away with ye now, lower beings.
The ethereal voice, feminine and mesmerizing, fluxed within their heads in celestial ambiance as all sounds and images dissolved into silence and nothingness.
And then they were gone.
- -
Panting, Kreoss unsnarled his fingers from his hair. Never before had he felt such searing pain rip through his entire body; power and will that could only belong to a god, battling his demonic soul with the most purest of energy. His insides still burned, the coppery taste of blood thick in his throat and mouth. Nostrils flared and chest heaving, he looked around the empty ballroom with wild eyes.
Only the general was with him, standing with hunched shoulders as he scrubbed his face with his hands. "Where did they go?"
Trevor blearily looked back at him. "How should I know?" he growled. "And why would I care? We're done. I got what I wanted."
"Yes," Kreoss mumbled as his attention was drawn to the veranda's splintered doorway and the tall figure that had just appeared there. "I suppose you did."
Trevor followed his gaze, and his heart stopped. With hope and awe swirling in his obsidian eyes, he took very cautious footsteps toward the woman, careful and painstakingly slow as if he feared she would scamper away like a frightened deer if he acted too rashly.
Kreoss rolled his eyes. "We'll be in touch," he said sarcastically and shimmered out.
She simply stood there, hands clasped in front of her chest, watching him with those indiscernible deep blue eyes that had been haunting his dreams nightly for over seven years. He dropped to his knees before her, arms spread wide in worship.
"Gracia," he choked out. "You came back. I knew you would. I prayed you would."
She calmly walked forward then, intensity brewing in her sapphire eyes as her brave gaze never once wavered from his face. "Yes...my love." She stopped in front of him, brows drawn together and facial muscles tense as if she fought to hold back a barrage of teeming emotions. "I have returned."
"Gracia...Oh, Gracie." Trevor wrapped his arms around her slender waist. "I took care of your father and sister. The kingdom is rightfully yours again. Ours. You don't have to run anymore."
"Good," she whispered and tenderly ran her fingers through his thick brown hair. He rested his forehead against her flat stomach, and in turn missed the troubled glimmer in her eyes and her expression of deep anguish.
Naga leaned her head back and stared listlessly at the domed ceiling. She nodded slowly to herself, forced down her tears that begged for release. "Good..."
Disclaimer: I do not own Slayers.
There you have it, folks. My dreaded action-packed chapter. Please review and let me know your thoughts.