(A/N)- So…the relationship between the two angels is apparently one of brocon…twincest, if you will. Huh. Anywho…Apollonius is still a bastard in my books. Bastards deserve one another, no? –chuckles- But I guarantee you I'll be taking the characterization of Crea in a new approach. And from what I know of "Gen Fudo." I'll clarify the divisions of angel Apollonius sometime soon. By the way, double-entendres galore. And if this chapter had a name, it'd be "So Gentle, it's Almost Cruel," pfft. It's been more than a couple months since I'd watched Aquarion EVOL so I might be taking this in an AU direction to make up for any misinformation but it's quite early to tell at this juncture. Hmm.
To sum up this chapter:
Apollonius: …Creepy as fuck but, ok, I can deal with the clinginess. (-mutters- This plan had better work. I feel like I'm locked in a room with a yandere…OMFG HE WANTS TO RAPE ME!)
Mykage: Too much information overload. And wangst. I need to be reminded of my masculinity. Time recharge my sadistic battery! Don't worry, it'll be fluffy again.
Crea: Oh god, I cannot believe I used to be this gay!
Ad Infinitum
To infinity…
Chapter 2
"You lied to me," Mykage said flatly, whorls of indigo blazing as he traveled sidelong to his companion. The three were making their way to the Chairman's Office through a secret corridor only a select few knew of. Writhing shadows were present in the cool gray hues that made up the space lit by miniature LED bulbs embedded in the concrete walls. In the dim lighting, the Shadow Angel's eyes were like twin suns burning the night sky. Crea's crimson stare shimmered between the two reincarnated souls, the unreadable expression on her face enduring despite the heated words exchanged between the two males.
"Well, to be honest, you were arrogant and made an erroneous assumption," Apollonius corrected once more, a halfhearted smile that didn't reach his eyes twitching up once he felt the resulting irritation pulse through their mental bond. It was easy enough to visualize how their link would look. His connection to Mykage was an iridescent stream of tightly-wound threads, pale and reticent, deep down in his core where his Elemental powers lay. He turned his gaze away. "But yes, I agree I owe you an explanation. And you will get it. Just in due time."
Frustration was the present forerunner in the angel's thoughts and Apollonius could already imagine the stream presently being dominated by shades of dark, angry red coiling down the torrent of other colors. The Wingless had not been able to discover the origin of their Elemental powers as of yet but Apollonius wouldn't put it past the humans to stumble upon that realization within the turn of a new century.
Humans had always been such inquisitive creatures.
It was one of their features that had forever attracted them to the reincarnated Angel of Massacre, the harbinger of the deaths of millions of Wingless. Sometimes when it was just them the more delicate vessel, Crea, would voice her concerns on the misinformation the Wingless population operated under, but Apollonius would always respond, "Let them come across it themselves. It is neither of our concerns, Crea. If they continue to live ignorant it is because Creation has ruled for them to be." At that Crea would fall into contemplative silence, for even she understood if it was meant to be nothing could prevent the Wingless from coming upon any fortuitous "breakthroughs." Even if it had meant a distortion of information the more that time passes.
He felt a headache coming as he recalled how much of what the Wingless of today remembered the events that had transpired 24,000 years ago was rare, and those that had transpired 12,000 years ago was only recognized through whispers of the mouth and that horrendous film riddled with historical inaccuracies. The Skies of Aquaria had become somewhat of a private joke between Zen and Crea. But for outward portrayal, they had to put on a show for the Wingless. No one was to know they housed the notorious soul of Apollonius and because they did that was why they were cognizant of the distortions that came with time.
Also that bond of theirs would be far, far away from the sliver tying Apollonius to Mykage's. Apollonius had made sure—were Mykage to decide one day to challenge him for control of his body—that the Shadow Angel wouldn't be able to find Crea's, for she was the other reborn flesh to contain the Angel of Massacre. If something happened to him, the main vessel, a part of the original soul needed to be tethered to the earthen plane in order to give the Wingless a fighting chance against his controlled body. With that, Crea would succeed him and stop the angel to Apollonius' satisfaction—for they were of the same soul, therefore of the same thoughts and desires—until the day he eventually gained his body back. This arrangement worked both ways but they both knew with the burden and the destructive tendencies the main vessel possessed, he would most likely be the first to go in every cycle they were in together.
Affection curled warmly within his chest at the thought and he sent a mental caress, with a touch of contrite guilt, down the bond he had with his other soul. Sometimes he didn't see Crea as the other half of his soul. Sometimes he'd just look at her and think he was interacting with a daughter he never knew he had.
The shining strands, vivid as the sun's rays, flickered and then gently licked at the edges of his mind's eye. He grinned lopsidedly to himself. She had finally settled down. He slowly withdrew from his mental presence. Words cannot be used to describe the transfer but, for the Wingless, it can be likened to an interactive radio. All one had to do is to reach out and silent dialogue would be exchanged between the involved parties.
"Silent dialogue" isn't even a phrase Apollonius believe could be used to properly illustrate its function. Their bond—the one he had with Mykage was a bit more unique—performed more like imparting impressions of the other's thoughts or feelings. Images sometimes accompanied the exchange but they were infrequent due to the concentration needed to send them. It operated much, to an extent, like the most rudimentary link forged between superiors and combatants for the duration of the archaic Harvests. It also acted like how a connection between two mated Shadow Angels would've worked after making the Vow of Wings, but these individuals were capable of higher-functioning telepathy and other abilities. Due to a mutation which passed as a transitory outbreak some 24,045 years ago, select Wingless beings were now capable of experiencing the same stimuli enjoyed by the Winged combatants. However much to Zen's and Crea's knowledge, it seems it was only them so far who could utilize the link outside the Merge. It would also explain why Mykage tended to shy away from utilizing the bond (aside from a limited astral projection and verbal communication, which was a little peculiar because, much to Apollonius' recollections, only Mated pairs were able to do so).
The High Commander smirked deprecatingly. He guessed it was probably because of the bad memories and a whole lot of inexperience on the Shadow Angel's end that Mykage hadn't bothered fiddling with the link as much as he'd expected him to have been doing when Apollonius accepted the foreign entity into himself.
Speaking of Mykage, Apollonius spared a glance at the petulant apparition floating close beside him. There was almost nothing of the Shadow Angel that resembled his former betrothed. This Shadow Angel was…effeminate (he could feel Crea shuddering in revulsion!), with softer features and leaner in frame that hid the same cruelty that had been hidden behind Toma's sculpted features.
There was no doubt in Apollonius mind that this little soul fragment had the capacity for malice as its main soul had—he had not forgotten the cold execution performed on his territory—perhaps even more so if he reviewed his memory banks. Even their speech patterns differed. Toma, at his quietest moments when there was no one around but him and Apollonius, was incapable of losing that holier-than-thou tinge lacing his silver tongue. That confident baritone was a far cry from Mykage's soft, poisonous murmurs. And, above all, their feathers were different. It was almost sacrilegious how off the coloring was. Shadow Angels were blessed with each distinct pair of wings that they had—whether by placement, amount, material, or complexion—and no matter what happened to their physical body, the wings must be preserved. Energy that ran like hot fluids through the wings would remain embedded in the feathers despite the carrier's death and this energy was a preservation of the angel's existence and power—almost acting like a historical artifact of that individual. (1)
Apollonius narrowed his eyes. Had he not known any better, he never would've connected him to the same self-righteous Shadow Angel that, more often than not, plagued his and Crea's slumbers.
A feathery touch breezed across his mindscape and then Crea transmitted an image of a delicate glass flower within a distorted, dark mindscape. Mykage. Transparent and smooth, but jagged with pointed edges. Ripples danced across the projected reflection and the glass abruptly blurred and stretched and morphed into a belladonna—a dull purple flower with delicate petals curving into itself from the heavy weight of water splashed on top of it. A droplet curved down to the tip of a single leaf. Deadly Nightshade poisoning, Apollonius realized. Toma.
I know he's dangerous, Apollonius projected to Crea, sending images of destruction to convey his words, but he can be saved. He sent her a picture of the martyred Christ. I can handle it.
From Apollonius' right, the little girl frowned and she took another long look at the transparent Shadow Angel (who was doing his best to ignore her and drill a hole into Zen's head). The sole reason why she preferred to stay behind and hand the reins over to Zen regarding their primeval brother-in-arms was to observe the irate apparition. Being the other container of Apollonius' soul, Crea was privy to the emotionally-tinged memories of the times spent together with Toma and it was getting harder and harder to separate this soul fragment from its predecessor. True, Mykage was more emotionally fragile and seemingly did not have the same physical capacity for the sword-to-sword play she and Toma had favored before creation of the Aquarion mechas. The lack of physical strength—which was compensated by the psychological torture Mykage seemed to prefer nowadays—was the first thing she and Zen picked up upon when they reviewed the data gathered on Ianthe's High Priest.
No, scratch that. His information banks contained useless information—Bianca had been tasked with gathering enemy data at that time…so it was unsurprising—which only stated that the "UNUSUALLY ATTRACTIVE MALE?FEMALE?BOTH?" seemed "abnormally fond of vines and flowers. FETISH OR DO HERMAPHRODITE!ANGELS HAVE GREEN-THUMBS?" She fought down a chuckle as the memory arose from when she and Zen had seen the records for the first time. Zen's comically bewildered expression was a memory she would always treasure.
Her jollity faltered when she noticed the apparition shimmer and, as a result, inched an increment closer to her other half. The hair at the back of her neck stood up. Something about Mykage rubbed her the wrong way and inwardly she was concerned that only she seemed to have noticed something wrong was going on.
Zen Fudo, the main bearer and therefore rightfully christened as 'Apollonius,' was keeping their ex-betrothed at an acceptable distance but she could see the metaphorical cracks forming in Zen's armor. Her lips twisted down. She didn't know if it was nostalgia or pity, but Zen—no, Apollonius—was slowly warming up to the weakened angel.
That wouldn't do. Forgiveness must be earned, not freely given.
Raising her indoor voice, Crea expounded, "Once we enter the premises of our joint office, we should be able to discuss much things in an environment suitable for privacy." Verdant and indigo irises swiveled down to peep over her head. A bitter smile touched her lips. "And we have a lot to discuss."
"I don't see why we cannot start now," Mykage said sullenly, looking at the little space between the two soul bearers. (Almost sensing his uncertainty, the girl fell back so that it was him and "Zen" at the front.) His mind was still blown away by the little revealer. But if that blonde harlot's soul could be split into two, it stands to reason why Apollonius' reincarnation process couldn't have been the same.
Then again, he studied the two Apolloniuses, it could've been an artificial split. Like what with Pollon's. It was odd knowing he was traveling side by side with two versions of the love of his life—where one was a petite little girl who looked like she could shatter into a million pieces just with a touch and the other an adult Wingless who, by the Wingless societies' perspective, made for quite the attractive picture.
Tucking some of his feathery bangs back behind his ear, Mykage argued, "This is a secret corridor. It amuses me that you…two see a necessity for a secret hideaway instead of pigeonholing in a secured Command Center. Nothing should be able to escape these walls…or the walls of whence we were."
"True but our office now has been spelled to disperse any unwanted attention." Apollonius grinned cockily. He loved this current incarnation of his, sad as it was. Successor in both name and blood to the infamous Gen Fudo, "Zen Fudo" was the chosen bag of flesh and bones to birth the new Angel of Death.
Of course he remembered the feeling of guilt slamming into him as he looked down at the innocent babe sleeping in the cradle, but he only had a short frame of time before Sophia Belin stirred from their bed to go check on him and their baby. For the few years they had been married, he pretended to be ailing—it helped when Rena would come over and secretly suck his Prana pint by pint. He remembered the morning with startling clarity, the day "Gen Fudo" died and "Zen Fudo" lived. He remembered kissing the baby's soft forehead and murmuring his parental regrets as he commenced a variant of an archaic Shadow Angel ritual, also a power supposedly only Toma was known to have naturally possessed. Instead of a dimensional transference where the Shadow Angel took control over a Cherubim Soldier across the world, he was performing a permanent soul transference.
He had pressed his bloodied, wrinkled fingers against Zen's rose-petal soft lips and started the chant, softly singing the words and waiting for the latent energy within him to rise up. The baby's eyes had snapped open near the end of the chant and Gen felt his heart stop when Zen started cooing affectionately to him, to his father. Apollonius had almost jerked his hand away when his blood slid into the baby's gumless maw but by then it was too late. That seemingly knowing green gaze stared him down as a light pooled underneath his fingertips and he remembered hot pain coursed furiously through his veins and then the world started tilting and turning black…
By the time he'd regained awareness, he remembered looking up at the bamboo ceiling, his right eye burning. He couldn't help the yawn that escaped his mouth, and it took some time before Zen's physical brain caught up with the remnants of his own mind's faster electrochemical signaling. He had to force his new corneas to focus on the prone figure lying belly flat, limp as a ragdoll on the floor. That was when he knew the ritual had been a success and however upsetting it was to see the empty vessel he had been occupying for 60-some years lying on the floor like its strings had been cut, he knew it had been necessary since the moment he and Rena sensed a sliver of Toma's screaming soul splitting and then ricocheting off to gallivant somewhere across the universe. He knew Sophia wouldn't take "his death" very well at all, but "Gen" needed to be dead. He'd be committing filicide if he waited for little Zen to grow up and he didn't know if he would have had the heart to murder his son if he saw Zen blossoming into an upstanding young man. If it was up to Rena, he would've committed the soul transfer ritual when Zen was but an embryo in Sophia's pregnant belly. Then he wouldn't be performing infanticide. But subsequently Sophia would have had the burden of carrying him to full term without a husband to support her throughout the process, and he cared too much for her to let that fate befall upon her.
Numbly, Apollonius looked down and flexed his gloved fingers. Aside from teleportation, his current Elemental powers seemed to be infinite. Granted his powers seemed to range wildly from the ineffectual to the overwhelmingly impressive.
"We didn't want the Combat or Researching Divisions poking their noses in any of our, ah, more private conversations," Crea broke in, smirking slightly in remembrance. Their bugs had been easy to find and ever-so-easy to discreetly destroy. They had numerous operatives' fingerprints all over the plastic casings. "Because this most definitely would constitute as one." A sudden thought occurred to her and she almost stumbled into Apollonius' back when it hit. Ignoring Apollonius' curious glance, she turned and looked dead into their ex-betrothed's eyes. With an almost grim tone, she inquired, "I apologize for not bringing this up earlier but…would you prefer to be acknowledged as 'Toma' or 'Mykage' henceforth?"
In other words, Apollonius whispered down their link, making Mykage shiver, do you want us to refer to you as the one we remember from our memories or to the personalized entity you are of now?
"Never mind the fundamental, familiar essence that I contain?" Mykage vocalized bitterly, his lips twisting in a thin line. He could sense the animosity directed toward him by the smaller-sized soul carrier. And while the High Commander's own feelings toward him felt subdued, Mykage could again sense the undercurrent of mistrust running rampant in their mental link. The intensity of their suspicions hurt him and it made him want to crawl into a ball and wish himself out of existence. It especially stung knowing it came from the ones he loved the most, whether by residual, involuntary sentiments or by falling for the entities that made up Apollonius, especially the one he desperately wanted to love him back.
Also frowning, Apollonius elucidated slowly, "Before, for convenience's sake, our operatives—"
"And cadets," Crea chipped in, her expression blithe as Mykage shot her an irritated glance over his shoulder.
"—our ranks were instructed to refer to you simply as 'Mykage' or 'High Priest.' But at that time neither I nor Crea saw the need to reveal your true identity." The Shadow Angel only looked more depressed and the brunette was at a loss for why.
Absentmindedly stroking the rough patch on his jaw, the High Commander elaborated, "Had you gone through a straightforward reincarnation cycle, we most likely would've kept to ourselves the information, were we indeed aware of the mystery, pertaining to your predecessor even if you had been created as a mirror image to a notoriously powerful Shadow Angel…"
Mykage preened, and Crea snorted inwardly in their bond.
Apollonius felt a soft smile unfurl at the corner of his mouth. "…but that evidently did not happen and the children were starting to become suspicious—Crea, don't look at me like that. You're the one who opened the book—so we had ourselves a little history lesson. And, I admit, the sudden reeducation of the entire legend was also conducted in the off chance that you actually managed to succeed in rewriting the chapters, creating a "false tale" in the Book of Genesis, with your wide scale coup d'état."
"Well I wouldn't have used your same roundabout terminology," Mykage retorted, an incredulous white brow escaping under his fringe, "to describe my chances at attaining victory, which we very well know were very high, before what could be called the impossible happened."
"Our wings fuel the so-called Legendary Aquarion's power." Crea tilted her head, studying the tensed muscles bunched underneath the thin garment draped on the Shadow Angel's broad back. Oh god, he was leaning closer to her counterpart. Voice strained, she commented, "And that extends to Aquarion EVOL-slash-Aquarion LOVE and the other cute vectors 'birthed' from it. Of course, there is no denying the original is best…"
Here it was Apollonius who scoffed.
"…but the afterimages weren't half-bad, as we have seen firsthand," she finished, raising a brow.
Our pride is hurt, Apollonius thought wryly and Mykage, having caught a snippet of the personal thought, chuckled humorlessly. Indigo eyes slid over to peer at the other's dusky complexion and he involuntarily smiled when a curious green eye met his gaze.
Mykage was somewhat disgruntled that the steely composure he'd worked himself into practically melted into a boneless goo by that casual look.
"Funny…," Mykage said, his voice softer than normal. Closing his eyes, he gave into the impulse to bury his face against the crook of Apollonius' neck. He leaned in closer and he nuzzled his nose against the silken cravat, craving the mesmerizing warmth of the fragrant flesh that lay underneath. Unavoidably Apollonius stiffened underneath him. Mykage repressed a morose chuckle, too intent on deciphering the fragrance to ruin the moment. The three entities halted, caught up in the surreal moment.
Mykage discreetly tugged the cravat down millimeters and he stared wondrously at the sun-kissed skin that filled his vision. This version of Apollonius smelled of something spicy and sweet, an aroma he for the life of him still cannot put a name to. Initially he'd thought of cinnamon stalks and sugarcanes, but perhaps it was instead a fruit from yore? Altair had a similar berry to the one he was thinking of, shaped like a tomato yet blue as a blueberry and acid green inside, one that he delighted in consuming whenever he lounged in his makeshift throne—which he had crafted from what remained of his shattered crystalline coffin when he had awakened from stasis.
In fact, he remembered his powers manifesting themselves to feed the little redheaded urchin said berries during his stasis. He could still hear the wet crunch of teeth sliding into tender flesh.
Whatever it was, this Apollonius smelled obsessively good and Mykage couldn't help but yearn for more. Sighing happily, Mykage closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He sighed once more in satisfaction, warmth coiling in his chest, in spite of the choked noise the High Commander emitted. He didn't understand why he felt more at comfort around the male adult instead of the younger female one. Countless theories bounced around in his head, some more credible than the others and others just plain ludicrous. Although, naturally, when it had just been Toma, not Mykage and Toma, he was used to the masculine figure of the Sun's Gift. It would stand to reason why he, Mykage, wouldn't be as well. It would explain why the young, womanly shell would perturb him.
"Funny," he repeated, "I'd thought the same." Mumbling the last part out, he pressed a brief kiss to the long column and rested his head against a sharp collarbone. He ignored the sharp intake of breath coming behind them. His words rewound in his head. It was for that reason, and a touch of wistfulness, that he decided to chase after the elusive Solar Aquarion trapped somewhere within the remnants of earth's bowels instead of sicing Kagura on the Wingless or waiting it out by having the Gnis Pilots attack and attack and attack until the Vegans' defense fell.
Apollonius shifted on his feet and Mykage could feel two large hands settle tentatively on his hips. He wasn't surprised when Apollonius gently pushed him back. The warmth of those hands seared his flesh and he felt a thrill shoot up his spine. He drank in Apollonius' unreadable expression.
"I think we need to establish some ground rules," a childish, feminine voice broke in coldly. Verdant and indigo irises swiveled down to peer over an iridescent mop that fell into the twin rubies that glimmered back ominously at them. "First of all, I would like to address boundaries."
She marched up to the two and shoved the two apart. Paying no attention to the scowl directed her way, Crea turned her back on Mykage and she glared up at Apollonius. "You two are already close enough, what with sharing a body. You don't need to be manifestly attached to the hip. Second of all, we need to address your propensity to disregarding the presence of other persons in the room. Zen, I know having Mykage around when he isn't trying to kill everyone is a novelty but," here she grounded out, "He. Was. Once. Our. Enemy." And a sadistic, jilted lover, she projected scathingly, or don't you remember that he tried to murder all that we considered close?
At Apollonius' crestfallen expression, Mykage stepped in and hissed, "I won't stand you slandering me, no matter if you are who you say you are, in front of Apollonius."
"I AM Apollonius!" she snapped, whirling around and jabbing her thumb at her chest. "Get it through your head! I am as much as Apollonius is as Zen is."
"He is the main carrier of 'his' soul and that makes him more Apollonius than you ever will be!" he roared, his indigo hues darkening into almost black as he glared heatedly at the little girl. Fire coursed through his veins and he was gritting his teeth to stop the stream of vulgarities he wanted to rain down upon her. Collecting himself, he took a few calming breaths to settle his blood and he mocked, "Perhaps I was operating under these 12,000 years under a misimpression but my eyes are telling me 'High Commander Zen Fudo' holds more abilities than your fleshy prison's, my dear. Or, if you'd prefer, previous reincarnation to 'Rena Rune.' From what I have seen, he can do so. Much. More."
His lips twisted with each emphasized pronunciation made. He looked down at the fuming girl. His teeth gritting with tension, he demanded, "Was this 'Rena Rune' also a part of your current situation? But with 'Gen Fudo?'"
"I don't need to answer that," Crea retorted, crossing her arms. She almost jumped into the air when 'Zen' spoke up behind her, murmuring a gravely, subdued "yes."
Paying no heed to the betrayed crimson eyes, Apollonius straightened his back and he locked gazes with an indigo pair instead. With his lips quirked deprecatingly, he mentioned rather offhandedly, "You know, you never answered her question."
Furrowing his brows at the detour, Mykage questioned, "The one regarding whether I considered myself as 'Toma' or a separate entity operating under the alias 'Mykage?'" He shrugged, and he couldn't help smiling affectionately at the other man. "I find myself torn between the two personas sometimes. I assume it is similar to your own dilemma?"
"We've dealt with it," Crea responded frostily, feeling somewhat hurt that the Shadow Angel refused to acknowledge her. Blinking back frustrated tears, she spun on her heels and sauntered the rest of the way to their office, not looking back at the two that followed as she murmured, "I go by 'Crea,' and he as 'Zen' or, in private, I guess he can be addressed as 'Apollonius' as I…agree with the point you made about him having more abilities than I do. He is, after all, the main soul carrier. We are both Apollonius and at the same time we are not." She brushed away the irritating tears and spat, "I can't believe I'm explaining my existence to you. You definitely don't deserve this concession after all you have done. Especially not when no one but us reincarnations of Apollonius know the truth. God, I feel like I'm rewarding you for all the people you have killed."
"Crea," Apollonius muttered, yet the underlying tone was sharp in her mind. Back off, he seemed to say. Take a breather and calm down. Tearing his gaze away from her, he crossed his arms and pierced the memory of his former lover with a composed stare. He continued, "What she meant to say was that 'Gen Fudo' and 'Rena Rune' were the first of our many reincarnations. But they were the first in that they were two separate shells to house an unequal division of our soul. When Rena and I met, that's when the fragmented memories made sense and we could feel something in us yearn for each other whenever we were close together. …It was a long time ago and I remembered being scared out of my wits such a young, impressionable girl was enthralled with me. I thought my juggling skills or magic tricks worked too well on her. Soon I found out that it wasn't the case."
"Thank god," she muttered under her breath.
Apollonius rolled his eyes. "It was merely our separated souls reacting on a subconscious level from our proximity, desiring to be as close as possible so as to have some semblance of conjoining back into one."
At Mykage's startled gaze, a genuine smile slid across Apollonius' features and he said gently, "To this day, we can still feel the pull. But nothing has ever happened."
Sniffling, Crea took a last calming breath and related, "Once we sorted our our memories, which made sense after we pieced them together in chronological order, we had gathered, however impossible it seemed at the time, that we housed the same soul. And that soul was none other than the legendary Angel of Massacre Apollonius." She stopped before a massive steel door and she waited patiently for the scanner's retina and facial recognition systems to finish analyzing her features. She could practically feel the angel's eyes roaming over her stiff-backed posture. "But back then we were simply reincarnations of him. As 'Zen' and 'Crea' however, we are not merely reincarnations of 'Gen' and 'Rena.' We are the same unmoved persons 12,000 years ago."
Mykage pursed his lips and watched silently as the scanner beeped and the door slid up into the wall with a whoosh. He peered inside, taking in the warmth of the office and comparing it to the contrasting gray hues that made up the secret corridor. His gaze fell on the octagonal hollow where the sofas lay. Then his eyes traveled up the hollow's golden steps and to the raised platform where an office desk was situated. It was remarkable how much the two Apolloniuses favored marble. And gold gildings and burgundy furnishings. Raising a brow at the disparity, he glanced down at the Chairwoman and asked, "Would you mind explaining what you mean by 'unmoved?' Would this have to do with what Apollonius…the one I'm stuck with anyway mentioned before? That your reincarnation cycle is different?"
"Zen can probably explain it better," Crea sniffed, crossing the threshold into the office. Her heels clicked against the stonework and she hummed underneath her breath. She was pleased that the fireplace was lit. Secretly she was glad to hear the crackle the flames made against the logs because she had felt damn cold in the corridor. "After all, you seem much more comfortable around him than with me."
She took a seat on the L-shaped sectional sofa, upholstered by violet corduroy, and rubbing her hands she watched calmly as Apollonius hunkered down and took the seat adjacent to her, so that his back was facing the windows. Mykage looked on in indecision, not knowing whether he should sit with Apollonius on the stairs (it looked so uncomfortable!) or on the sofa with Crea. He gave a start when Apollonius' boots made a loud thump against the carpeted steps and he stared at the gloved finger pointing nonchalantly at the unoccupied length of the sofa across from Crea.
"Please take a seat there," Apollonius grunted, throwing his head back and combing his hand through disheveled brown locks. "We'll form a little triangle. This way we can talk like civilized beings by being able to see everyone when they have the floor. It won't seem like a two-against-one discussion."
"I suppose I see the reason in that." Mykage nodded hesitantly, and he floated over and stared at the cushion with a dubious look on his face for a moment. Gingerly he sank down on the seat and ignored the little voice in his head whispering of how many filthy Wingless must have occupied the place he was sitting. He crossed his legs, leaning forward and entwining his fingers underneath his chin. "Now, explain."
Apollonius smirked. "I'll start. You knew me as 'Gen Fudo' and 'Apollonius.' However I am the same man 12,000 years ago. I only look different due to personal choice."
"Before when you said this, I did not think much about it…however…I still do not see how that can be." Mykage uncrossed his legs and he nibbled on his lower painted lip. He mentally reviewed all that he knew of the average Wingless' life span. "It would mean you are 12,000 years old and that accomplishment is unachievable for any Wingless! And while you say you look different due to 'personal choice,' one cannot simply change his or her features by pure whimsy. Based on my data, the weight and height of your mortal flesh, even your complexion, is different from who you were before 12,000 years ago. The shape of your cranium is also quite dissimilar. As Gen, your skull was stouter and your jaw line wider, less pointed than it is now. Also the color of your hair is different. Before, it was a much lighter brown. I refuse to believe you look different is due to a face transplant or by surgical treatment. It would also not be by one of your powers because if that was so, I would've heard about such an extraordinary Wingless back when I was simply Toma."
Wow, stalkerish much? Apollonius repressed the snide commentary itching to burst out of his mouth. He could just picture Crea's wide eyes at the divulged information. In fact—he took a sidelong peek—the Chairwoman's mouth was parted in a slight 'o.'
Both of them were taken aback at how much intimate details the Shadow Angel had known about the person 'Zen' used to be, especially when both of them knew before Toma hadn't been as interested in DEAVA's founder (self-christened supreme commander) because of his preoccupation with Apollo, Aquarion, and the de Alisia siblings.
Steepling his own fingers underneath his jaw, Neo-DEAVA's High Commander divulged, "To an extent, your rationalization is, in a word, accurate. I do appear different. In fact, I look like a new generation Fudo. There is too much dissimilarity for me to pass as the deceased 'Gen.'" He pierced Mykage with a shrewd look. "But you must remember, I am the true bona fide Solar Wing. Or, rather, I have his soul. And memories."
"Well, partially." Crea yawned, daintily covering her mouth. She blinked sleepily at them. The reoccurrence of their reminiscent title Solar Wing certainly threw her for a loop. It had been centuries since anyone had used that particular title. "I have a third of them. The more, um, humane ones more or less. They're rather few compared to the ones Zen has. His is a whole arsenal attached with historical and/or militant context. Sometimes we recall similar ones but more often than not we have to exchange memories in case of any gaps. I describe to him what I remember and offer my input, and he does the same."
"That brings me to my next point. As reincarnations of a Shadow Angel, we had inherited much of his abilities despite being Wingless." Apollonius added, flexing his fingers and studying them with newfound interest. Being born in mortal coil, their human containers couldn't house such a powerful soul as that of a former Shadow Angel's and with its potent powers in one Wingless being. Or perhaps there had been several reincarnations of said Shadow Angel, but not one has lived too long. It was why he and Crea speculated they had been created as Gen and Rena that many eons ago. To stabilize the Soul Merge between the Shadow Angel and the infant Wingless that was to house that reborn soul. "Mykage, Toma, whoever you are, you were right in assuming I was more 'Apollonius' than my counterpart. Both in this life and the life before. As you can see, I am more…ah, expressive than she is."
"She operates with approximately one-third of the Solar Wing's soul and memories," Mykage breathed, instantly catching on to the implied undertone. He tapped his fingers against his chin. "Meaning she is of lesser innate abilities and lesser attributes of striking resemblance to the ancient Apollonius. But that would mean…" he looked sharply upon the drowsy Chairwoman, "…she is two-thirds of another soul. Or, as you appear to insinuate, she is two-thirds vacant of one."
"You are as quick as I remember," Apollonius intoned approvingly, clapping his hands. Mykage felt something warm curl inside his chest again, but this time at the commander's visible pleasure. Face hot, he averted his eyes from the other's wide grin. Chuckling, Apollonius continued, "Yes, Rena Rune was indeed two-thirds vacant. And, accordingly, that vacancy has been passed on to 'Crea Dolosera.' I, on the other hand, having two-thirds of Apollonius' soul, resembled much of my former image barring physical appearance. Unlike Rena, Gen—mind you, this is odd referring to myself in third person—was more complete. Like all other reincarnations, his soul was properly mixed with the old and the new. That was why the memories were few and far between."
"Unsystematic," Crea added. "Very random. Seemingly not making any sense until we met."
"How much do you know of the reincarnation cycle? You are not a true reincarnation of Holy Angel Toma Epanort. You are a part of him, a shadow of his love so to speak. If we want to be technical, he gave birth to you, the first and quite possible the last Shadow Angel in the last 12,000 years. Therefore I must confess I am hesitant to reveal further information for fear of losing you as we carry on our conversation. I don't know how much you know."
"I am familiar with enough." He waved dismissively through the air. "Continue."
"Let's just say when a soul is reincarnated, it is only done so after it has been held in stasis. The more powerful souls are held for a longer period of time while the weaker, minor ones are constantly reborn on earth—Vega or Altair—and occasionally, by some fluke or miracle, new souls are generated amongst the old and powerful. That much I remember from when I was Apollonius."
Crea pouted. It's not fair only he gets to remember something as important as that, she thought sadly.
"I suppose, ah, my soul would be considered old and powerful simply because I—sorry, forgot I was going to refer to myself in third person to make the explanation easier…I'll stop now—Apollonius was a 'Shadow Angel.' Not only had he been a frontline commander for the Lord's army, he was Solar Wing, the Angel of Massacre and Death, and more notably his wings and body harnessed the great, blessed Sun's Gift. If Apollonius had to be reborn—and he eventually would have had to given his murdered soul was not an exception to the reincarnation cycle—only another Shadow Angel could've housed his soul without any prominent repercussions. But since, excluding your special circumstances, a Shadow Angel had not been born in the last 24,000 years, it was evident I was to be somehow reincarnated as a Wingless. But it would take time. A longer time since Apollonius' 'old and powerful soul' had to be compressed into one tiny container that was not meant to contain such memories and abilities."
"As interesting as it is, I'm afraid I must cut short that train of thought." Mykage held up a hand, his iridescent bangs falling into troubled eyes. He looked down on the floor. "Are you saying, had anyone of Lord Johannes' Court given birth to a Shadow Angel, that it…would have been…you?"
Apollonius' expression had been both gentle and empathetic. "I do not know for sure but—"
"Yes, we would've been reborn as another Shadow Angel instead of waiting 12,000 years to be reincarnated as the Wingless Gen and Rena," said Crea bluntly, scrutinizing the little flinch Mykage gave off at her frank words. Bastard probably thought this whole situation could've been avoided if one of the remaining Shadow Angels besides Toma had completed the Vow of Wings. She suddenly recalled when the Earth split into two and it had flashed into her mind alternate realities that had befallen their parallel selves. In one of them...Toma, poor Toma. He had made the most primitive, basic vow with the reincarnation of the Winged Hound—under the impression that Apollo was the Solar Wing—and had been distraught when the budding embryo had died in the protective armor of Cherubim Verizeva, a customized mechanical angel only Toma had piloted.
Crea shot a discreet look at her counterpart, narrowing her eyes at the brunette's chastened expression. His angular features temporarily morphed back into Gen's familiar features in her mind as she reviewed that night. She remembered Gen looking with the same guilty air at the holocom and she as Rena had been at a loss for why when before they had been both rooting for Apollo, Silvia, and Hong Lihua (who at that time was more famously known by her nickname Reika). They'd both agreed to keep it a secret that they were the true reincarnations of the legendary Apollonius and to not say a word when everyone had thought his pet's reincarnation was him. So she didn't understand why Gen felt so remorseful to the same being that had ended their life as Apollonius.
Of course, it had occurred to her later on that those events could not have happened this side of the universe. Hence that guilty expression of his could not have existed.
"If I had known," she was jerked out of her recollections by a heartbreakingly small voice, "I—"
"Mykage," Apollonius said kindly, "what's done is done. You are not at fault for the beings that we are today. You couldn't have known I might've been reborn back as one of you 24 millennia ago."
"I'm aware but I…please let me finish, Apollonius." When the High Commander closed his mouth, Mykage looked down and fiddled with the hem of his sleeve. Biting his lip, he mumbled, "If I had known, I would've endeavored to find an alternative instead of relying on the Tree of Life like the rest of the fools to breed a glorious new race. Perhaps, instead of waiting for the Solar Wing to become strong and pollinate it, I could've made a Vow of Wings with…Otoha. Or I could've pushed for experiments through artificial birthing. I could've—"
No longer able to stand it, Apollonius surged to his feet and stalked away, aggravated, raking his hands through his hair. He didn't want to hear more of the angel's ruminations. Breathing slowly, he leaned forward on the walnut office desk, his side bangs curving into his shadowed eyes. His back was toward the other two and they could see the tensed muscles bunched underneath the formfitting vest. Apollonius sighed, rubbing the back of his neck to ease the tension there.
He hitched a hip up a corner of the desk and, stifling his high-strung emotions, he turned back and aimed a fake smile at them. "So I take it you still identify yourself as Toma Epanort."
"I have said before that I…"
"But not a while ago you were considering what you, Mykage, would've done had you been aware of my circumstances. But it was Exalted Holy Angel Toma, not self-proclaimed Destroyer of Love and High Priest Mykage, who existed in that time. So that begs to question," he bent forward, his arms crossed and his grin increasing, "which Shadow Angel you identify with more."
Mykage's indigo eyes widened and his painted lavender lips parted in the same teasing grin. "Oh, well played."
"I have my moments," he replied glibly, tapping his cheekbone. He surveyed Crea's hesitant expression, like she didn't know how to react to the suddenly light-hearted banter. Taking pity on her, he nudged the conversation back into familiar waters. "But as you seemingly identify with your past self—since you are, after all, the same Shadow Angel—Crea and I don't exactly with ours. Apollonius has reincarnated time and time again, with each reincarnation cycle, in different mortal coils. I'm not exactly cognizant of all the forms he has taken, but we believe he has been through the entire animal kingdom—as repentance—before reincarnating as a human."
"We've done an extraordinary amount of research to formulate this theory," Crea said softly, twirling her iridescent lock. "In our findings, every other centuries or so, an animal or Wingless has been born with abilities similar to the Angel of Massacre's. With that amount of reoccurrences, there was no way it could've been a mere coincidence."
"But we also found out not one of them was able to sustain a long life. Well, the average life span of the species he had been reborn in, that is. Apollonius' soul overwhelmed them. That was why Gen and Rena eventually came into play 24,000 years ago. We were stable. And that's why we still exist to this day."
He glanced to his right at the burgundy wall panels and the gold gilding framing each one along the wall. He drummed his fingers against his thigh. "We met, whether fortuitously or by Fate's design, figured out who we were, and started DEAVA to ready the Wingless for war against the Shadow Angels in what came to be known among the generations as the 'Great Catastrophe.'"
The High Commander slid a glance back at the only remaining Shadow Angel who had on an intense look of concentration etched on his face. He smiled inwardly. So Mykage had been paying close attention to the dialogue. Deep down inside, Apollonius hoped what he was about to reveal wasn't going to come bite them should the soul sliver ever come to decide to backstab them. Bunching his hands into fists, Apollonius murmured in his low baritone, "The rest you should already know. Rena and Gen led from the shadows, Apollo saved the day, Toma discovered who the Solar Wing really was…but what you didn't know is how the true reincarnations remained immovable in the flow of time."
"I'll save you the bother of enlightening you on the happily ever afters of all the Wingless combatants involved back then," Crea interrupted once more, glowering at the uneven tips of her locks. She could tell her counterpart was about to ask for forgiveness for what the Shadow Angel had deemed their actions to be the Greatest Betrayal. "Suffice to say, we were aware you had split yourself into two and we couldn't pass up the slim chance that that temporarily weakened soul sliver could rear his head and target the Earth in a dirty act of retribution." She rolled her eyes when the astral projection practically bristled from her cutting words. "Obviously we weren't sure how long it'd take you to recuperate. It could be a month, years, centuries, and so on. We couldn't risk that chance of us leading normal lives as a somewhat extraordinary human and leave Vega to find for itself without our needed assistance."
She pierced Mykage with a merciless look. "Now what I'm about to reveal, you have to promise me you won't overreact."
"…Why?" Mykage queried cautiously, leaning forward in his seat, as if narrowing the gap between him and the female Apollonius would provide him all the answers to the universe. "You've already told me so much and I haven't done anything dreadful. I'm afraid I cannot promise you that if you're already imploring me to behave for details which I am already suspecting I'm not going to like." He scowled when Crea remained unbudged, pinning him with that steady look. He felt like a child again, being reprimanded for juvenile mischief by one of the elders. Except, ironically, he was the adult and Crea was the minor. He muttered mulishly, "I'll…behave. Promise."
"Look Zen in the eyes and swear it."
For the love of… Mykage's mouth thinned. His stomach churned unsteadily. It must be one heck of a reveal for the girl to insist on continuing this farce. Sighing theatrically, he threw a hand over his heart and drawled almost in a bored tone, "I swear on my and my previous life's honor that I won't…overreact to whatever you have to say to me next."
"So mote it be." She crossed her arms. "Say it."
"So mote it be," he repeated, raising a brow at that unfamiliar lingo. Brushing the velvety material of the cushion underneath him, he settled his gaze back on Crea and asked, "So what is it that you wanted to tell me that you were afraid I was going to make a big deal over?"
Her gaze was searching and he permitted her to study him all she wanted because whatever this is she needed reassurance from him in something other than his words. Mykage forced himself to assume a relaxed position and he sunk back into the sofa, an innocuous, genial expression filling his face. Finally she must've found what she had been looking for because she turned her head and grunted, "Gen and Rena married and had kids."
Ice chilled his veins and his lips parted in a surprised 'o'. He chuckled nervously, disbelieving his ears. The two vessels pledged a life together even though they shared the same soul? They were that close! His jaw tightened. "I beg pardon? I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that. I almost thought you mumbled that you two married and bore fruit. But it couldn't be because—"
"No, it's not like that! We married other people!"
Mykage's mouth closed when he caught sight of the red coloring on her face. Comprehension quickly dawned on him. He swallowed against the stone in his throat. Steeling his expression, he whispered, "I see. You two found someone to live the rest of your lives with after the war. Anyone but me." He bet whoever they married had short blond hair.
Apollonius tore his gaze away from the wall and he immediately straightened up at the hurt undercurrent in the Shadow Angel's words. His wild gaze landed on the astral projection and he let loose a relieved sigh when he saw that Mykage wasn't about to relapse into another fit of fury. But…despite the nonchalant air the angel adopted, there was a trace of pain lingering in those indigo pools. Oh shit. He can't handle it. "Crea, that's enough for today. We can finish this line of conversation another time."
Taking long strides to the hollowed platform, he clicked his boots down the stairs and he stopped before the astral projection who had his head bowed before him. Ignoring the searing look directed against his back, Apollonius bent at the waist and he took the Shadow Angel's soft hands into his own gloved ones. Making sure his voice was mellifluous and gentle, he coaxed, "Mykage, look at me."
When the Shadow Angel remained unresponsive, Apollonius curved a finger underneath the pointed chin and he lifted Mykage's face up so that misty indigo pools met an eye patch and a sympathetic green eye. The poor angel…Apollonius felt something akin to parental concern stirring within his chest.
Granted, the subject in question was more of a grown man that acted more like a child that acted more often than not with inappropriate overtures. Unconsciously he rubbed a thumb over one of Mykage's cheekbone and once he realized what he had been doing, he let himself marvel at how smooth the skin felt underneath the thin material of his neoprene gloves. He said seriously, "I think it's enough. We can continue this little saga another time. It's a long, complicated story and it will come up again when you're ready."
Mykage opened his mouth to protest but Apollonius shushed him. Gently brushing the stray feathers away from the Shadow Angel's eyes, Apollonius' stern expression gentled and as if addressing a small, frightened child, he whispered, "It must've come as such a shock to you, finding out that the man you had been chasing wasn't one but was made of two individuals. On top of that, you soon discovered already so much that no one else has ever known before. You must be exhausted by all the twists and turns that has happened today." He stroked Mykage's chest, fingertips ghosting over the area he'd seen the pink energy blast slam into. He pushed comfort and security across their link as subtly as he could.
The astral form looked down to the floor and then brought his heavy-lidded gaze back up as if magnets were forcing him to look upon Apollonius' visage. Mykage nodded shyly, reaching up to overlay his hand with the warm hand placed over his chest. Smiling charmingly, Apollonius pulled away and stood up, extending his arms out. He inclined his head. Needing no invitation, Mykage scooted closer and looped his arms around the thin waist. Brushing his face against the brunette's garments, he breathed in the natural cologne as a balm to calm his turbulent emotions down.
"Poor little Shadow Angel, my own beloved," Apollonius' warm, deep baritone crooned into his ear. Mykage felt Apollonius' hand rubbing against his back in a comforting gesture. Mykage consoled himself with the thought of how much pleasure he would take in having Apollonius care for him…just…this…once. Mykage allowed the gentle rumbling to wash him away from his poisonous thoughts. His long lashes drooped and he bowed his head and he nuzzled his nose against Apollonius' green shirt collar. He felt so tired and the lullaby of Apollonius' beating heart pressed against his ear was oh so alluring.
"You must want your rest so badly after ALL you'd been through," Apollonius' voice rumbled above, his voice an enticing purr. "My beautiful other soul, your body must be bruised from the cadets' callous assaults on your person. Rest. Relax. Come back into me and take your well deserved break. Rest until you are strong again. Rest inside me, Mykage."
Mykage nodded dazedly and just like that he was but a ghost in the High Commander's strong arms. Apollonius slid his hands into his pockets. Traces of iridescent whites and purples faded in a hazy fog in front of him and he held his breath until the last traces disappeared.
"That was rather mean of you."
Breathing out, Apollonius turned to face the calm and collected figure perched daintily on the sectional sofa. He matched her stare. "Everything happened so suddenly. He was being overwhelmed, I had to bring the conversation to a halt." Besides, I acted the way you wanted me to, he projected, cocking a brow. I seduced him with equanimity and kindness. You're just sour he won't be getting his comeuppance.
He reused the audio and images of how he treated the Shadow Angel and contrasted it with Crea's cold responses. He also shared images of Mykage pressing up against him (he pretended a large, affectionate cat was being pressed up against him each time that it had happened...otherwise he'd remember what terrifying situation he was in) and Mykage turning his nose up at her. He hoped she understood what he was trying to say through their two-way link.
Crea frowned and looked, really looked at him. Her lips thinned. "Still, you know he can't resist us."
"He can't resist me," Apollonius corrected, a frown furrowing his brows. Indeed the Destroyer of Love seemed powerless against his honeyed words. It was a potent weapon that could be used a couple of times, he realized, before the test subject started developing resistance. Apollonius chuckled scornfully, raking a hand through his hair. He treaded forward and offered his hand. "But he's inexplicably hostile toward you."
"We need a bit of discrepancy," she sighed, grabbing his hand and hoisting herself from her seat. She almost stumbled over his toes. "We already agreed, in his presence, to refer to you as 'Apollonius,' weird as it is when we've established we're both separate individuals that happened to have been reincarnated with his memories and his abilities. Yet, I cannot help the occasional slips but…you are no longer 'Zen.' And to solidify the dissimilarity, although he knows I am partly his lover, I will remain as 'Crea.' Other people won't see it that way were they to come across the truth but…it'll be like letting Mykage in on our little secret. It'll make him believe. We need to make it easier for him to differentiate between us two, especially since we're doing the bad-cop-good-cop routine because otherwise he could wake up one day and think it'd be mighty swell to own two Apolloniuses and take over your motor controls and my—"
Crea stopped suddenly and she narrowed her eyes at him. "What is he doing anyway? Slumbering? I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest when you started openly manipulating him. I hope you had taken this opportunity to shield this current conversation from him in case he riffles through your memories."
"He's asleep," Apollonius grinned unabashedly, patting her head. She scowled adorably at the treatment. Dropping his smile, he slowly withdrew his arm. He clasped his hands behind his back, assuming perfect military posture. "We should count our lucky blessings he's inexperienced when it comes to actual mind raping."
She visibly winced. "Must you call it that? I-it sounds so…so cruel."
"It'd be even crueler if we pushed him too much and consequently give him too much to think about." He paused, looking up at the ceiling. "You remember how he used to be. He is either an asset or a liability to us. Neo-DEAVA needs him as an asset.
"I admit I, like you, am almost in disbelief how exaggerated Mykage's cruelty is, enforced by an insane obsession for whatever has caught his eye. And, unfortunately, that means us. He is incapable of understanding true affection because he has not been…on the receiving end of such care. Aside from his inherited memories. So that's why he's targeting us, shades of his former lover. Creepy as it is, we have to get used to it."
"He used to be incapable of understanding the sheer concept of love until he got energy-blasted by Aquarion LOVE," she said, stressing certain words. "He's still a shadow of Toma's devotion to Apollonius, a brilliant, judicious Shadow Angel who thought the world of Solar Wing. Zen, I don't know about this. We're manipulating a living being with sentient feelings and intelligence." Her eyes were haunted. "You're lucky that you have the happier emotions of his time together with his fellow angels and also with the humans. I only have embittered, desperate memories and Apollonius' morality."
"Crea…"
"No, no, I digress." She shook her head, ignoring his concerned gaze. "Remember how you said it was creepy how he's so…fixated on us? That's why I just can't believe you took him in under your wing just like that! You have lingering sentiment toward him, Zen. It'll blind you once he deceives us. His obsessive advances toward you are bordering cardinal sin. He loves you too—"
"He doesn't love me," Apollonius protested. "He's in love with the idea of loving me. That is why he's so fixated on…wait, what did you mean 'toward me?' You're also a part of Apollonius! This includes you."
"Not in the way he's thinking!" Crea exclaimed, slapping his abdomen. Curse her height! She glowered up at him through her wavy bangs. She clung to her anger, afraid that if she treated her counterpart normally she was going to shatter. Dealing with Toma, not matter if Mykage was only his soul sliver, had always been taxing on her. Why couldn't he see that they were in a treacherous situation?
Throwing her arms up, she blathered, "Why haven't you noticed? He's so infatuated with the idea of you being his past lover that no one else comes close to the remastered ideal image of his precious Apollonius! Even after we revealed my identity, he still focuses on you. He knows, instinctively, that I represent Apollonius' morality, the morality that tore him away from Toma. The same morality that made Apollonius side with the humans!"
Stomping her foot, Crea pounded him once more on the stomach with her tiny fist. Frustrated tears threatened to slip out. "I saw him get all creepy-close with you, Zen, yet he treats me like an infuriating version of Otoha after she gets crazy jealous of you and whines to him about you monopolizing his time. Something's wrong. I know you had this grandiose plan on redeeming him but he is irre—"
Her sentence screeched to a halt and she stared at the gloved hand that had latched onto her wrist. Curiously Crea peered back up at him, falling silent once she caught sight of his expression.
"I will make him atone for his transgressions," Apollonius said quietly, his face clouded. "And I, the one who decided to sit back these 12,000 years, will take the full brunt of our and Apollonius' sins by…welcoming him into my body. I will bring closure to the unfiished story of Toma and Apollonius. Besides…"
He looked away, tightening his grip unconsciously. "…he is vulnerable. And accepting of present conditions. But who knows when he'll change his mind? If we are to take advantage of the situation this would be the optimal time to act on it."
Crea's gaze softened. Looking down at his large hand, she commented, "He is as starved for physical affection as I remembered him. But clingier. It's almost sad."
"I'm aware." Letting loose a sigh, he disentangled himself and stood back, resuming his previous posture. He still kept his eyes averted. "If we stick with the plan, in the long run it'll only benefit all of humankind. Even if we feel like the world's biggest assholes, we need this operation to succeed."
"Indeed," she murmured, mouth quirked. "A sadistic, vengeful Shadow Angel wouldn't exactly make for a pretty picture in anyone's head." Her expression sobered. "It still doesn't make it right."
"'Nor consider that it is expedient for us, that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation perish not,'" he softly quoted, basking in the resulting pensive air that shrouded her small form.
"Caiaphas, the High Priest mentioned in the Gospel of John, John 11:49-50?" She laughed quietly. "You couldn't just say, 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few?' I can't believe I'm saying this but…I agree with Mykage. You have a roundabout way of saying things."
"'Indeed,'" he parroted back, and with the familiarity of their usual banter the tenseness between them dissipated. With matching smiles, they watched each other calmly, not feeling at a rush to part ways yet. There is so much to discuss, he realized with a sudden pang. But there was the risk that the affected party might overhear sensitive information. Mykage's presence, which was like a low-key vibration in the back of his mind, overcomplicated things. Sharing bodies wasn't quite what he had in mind when he had been drafting the parameters of said plan of his. He'd been anticipating something more of an antagonistic exchange of words, then possible coaxing and making amends. And maybe a beating-over-the-head-with-a-stick if things didn't go according to plan.
Another pang hit him as he became conscious of the oversight he may have made in hastily accepting half of the original Angel of Massacre's betrothed inside him. If things went south, he didn't want to think of having a pissed-off ancient creature on a warpath after him.
Well, on second thought Mykage had dedicated a significant portion of his life seeking out his baby—Aquarion—and making his displeasure known for being deceived when he had existed as Toma. So technically, he had to admit to himself, the angel had been on a warpath after him from the get-go.
But then again, said angel was still "in love with him." The High Commander's lips twisted down in displeasure. That sentimentality was the one part he, the major vessel for Apollonius' soul and memories, didn't exactly care for at all. Faking intimacy with a nefarious mythical creature wasn't high up on his list of things-to-do. Judging by their previous interactions, he had no problem pretending he was dealing with an overly affectionate child stuck in a grown man's body. At most he could chalk up his acceptance of the situation to the shame he felt—guilt still ate away at him for the slipshod choices he made when he was Gen and for the memories of the treachery the original him put his betrothed through—and his pitiful attempt at penance.
"Remember when it just used to be 'Rena' and 'Gen,' two clueless humans with the memories of a Shadow Angel's?" Crea's soft, feminine voice broke through his musings. There was a look in her eyes that made something in him feel uncomfortable. "Remember when we first laid our eyes upon the memory of Apollonius meeting Toma? Remember your words—?"
"'Whoever you are, I know what I did to you in my previous life. I remember your love and I'm sorry.'" Apollonius recounted quietly, swallowing hard at the embarrassing memory. The tip of his ears felt hot at the recollection.
"Yes, well you did say that." There was an odd quirk to her mouth, half formed in-between a smile and a grimace. "But no, I wasn't referring to that. I had meant the time when you were out of it and whispered something that sounded like, 'I haven't met you yet. We will meet each other again.'" Another peculiar look crossed her face at the reappearance of that dialogue and she started again hesitantly, "Zen, back then…when you said those words, were you—"
"Crea, it is past 23:45," he interjected hastily, looking at the pocket watch that magically appeared from the front waistcoat pocket (because she knew for a fact that that silver watch threaded through a buttonhole by a thin chain wasn't part of his property before). The flush had extended to his cheeks. "Not only do we have to wake up early, we have to discuss diplomatic concerns 05:30 with four of the brightest, esteemed pilots Vega and Altair has to offer. We are already lacking the sufficient amount of sleep needed for lucid deliberation tomorrow."
Well if that wasn't the most subtle way of saying the conversation's closed, she thought snidely. But fine, she'll humor him. Glancing at the engraved back of the casing, she responded, "True, attaining the ideal eight-hours isn't something we could consider presently. What I wouldn't give to be back at my nice, large, warm bed where I have no one to encroach on my privacy."
And because she had no qualms being a bratty bitch, she smiled sweetly at him and chirped, "Salutations on acquiring a bed partner! Pleasant dreams!"
She teleported out.
Apollonius groaned, stretching his arms over his head until he could hear his spine cracking and then scrubbing his haggard face with his naked hands. He had snapped his gloves off and deposited them somewhere on top of his dresser when he'd entered his room, after programming the artificial intelligence system in the data mainframe to set an alarm for him at 04:30. He distantly remembered his vest had been the next to go, folded neatly over the chair he had left by the bed. With a yawn, he quickly toed off his shoes and he sank down on the soft bedding.
Oh god, his bed. He loved his bed.
Peeling his eyepatch off and placing it on his nightstand, he swung his legs over and he got underneath the covers. Clad in his white dress shirt and black slacks and cashmere-silk socks, he felt overdressed for the occasion but he didn't want to risk waking up to his original's betrothed eyeballing him in his undergarments. He even felt too ill at ease to take a shower, in case the presence at the back of his mind decided to wake up and project himself when Apollonius was wet and naked.
…He needed a serious talk with Mykage once they were both awake. The constant paranoia was detrimental to his sanity.
Staring at the blank white ceiling, he counted to seventeen mental sheep jumping over a wooden fence before his mind became engulfed in darkness and he fell into a peaceful sleep in his comfortable platform bed.
He didn't know what time it was but he found himself awoken early in the morning with a heavy weight on top of his chest. Something was drawing slow, invisible circles against the thin material of his shirt and it took awhile for his brain to catch up with the illogicalness of the situation. A slender finger was making the serene, almost languid pattern against his chest and—holy shit, MYKAGE! Disgruntled and disoriented, he cracked open an eye and the first thing he could see was a mantle of iridescent feathers that barely tickled his forehead and the sides of his face. He silently glowered up at the twinkling indigo orbs staring down at him.
"You're awake," the annoyance commented airily, his breath fanning across Apollonius' jaw. The Shadow Angel was situated above the High Commander, legs splayed to either side of Apollonius' torso, his weight on top of his body. Chuckling, Mykage brushed back the brown strands that had fallen onto Apollonius' face. Delicately resting his elbows on Apollonius' chest, he placed his jaw on top of his hand and he continued peering down bemusedly at the prone figure lying underneath him. He purred, "Had a nice nap?"
"I was," Apollonius mumbled, too tired to feel unnerved by the astral projection's close proximity. It should alarm him that he was becoming used to his personal space being infringed upon constantly but with the many times he remembered Toma doing the same when he had truly been 'Apollonius,' he couldn't help it. He bit back the yawn that was threatening to escape him and he suddenly noticed it was still dark outside. Great, it wasn't time to wake up. Muttering something about nighttime donuts and unmovable stones under his breath, he sighed, "Did you just come out or did you take your time observing your new environment before I woke up?" …Unfortunately.
"Well, as you know, ignorance is bliss," he replied readily with a broad smirk on his face. "With that line of thought, knowing you, the sort of person you are, you wouldn't like either answer."
But with the reminder of his surroundings, he peered around, taking in the neatly folded garment on the dark cherry wood side chair nearby and the sparse embellishments that would've made the room appear more inhabited. Oh, there were medals and honors scattered around and paperwork and pens out on the aluminum writing desk, but the room seemed…simple, in Mykage's humble opinion. Even bathed in darkness, he could tell the room was overwhelmingly white in color. It didn't add up. "It begs to question…is monochromatic your favorite color scheme?" He looked back down at Apollonius' face and didn't comment on the commander's evident fatigue. "With the flamboyant way you dressed this life, I was expecting something more…colorfully mismatched. Your room's rather spartan."
"With the amount of times Crea and I had to move around, it didn't make sense to waste the time and effort decorating our living arrangements," he revealed jadedly, hiding another yawn with another sigh. "This is only temporary. I'm not one to easily break habits."
"Yes, your impromptu history lesson did seem to imply 'moving around' a lot. Naturally this was meant to deter suspicions as to your…immortality?"
Apollonius felt himself go still at his words. Immortality? Who said anything about immortality? He hadn't mentioned he was…his brain kicked once more into gear and he felt himself relax. Okay, Mykage was just asking harmless questions. It was as expected for someone in the angel's situation to be inquisitive. At the back of his head, Apollonius knew he had to be open and candid lest the angel's trust in him drops. However much he didn't like delving into his private affairs, there was a necessity to keeping the angel at ease. He admitted, "It's not something we go around advertising. As I said, my reincarnation cycle is different. Unusual."
Mykage was silent. Then he posed almost hesitantly, "Different from…from your other half's?"
A beat. Apollonius closed his eyes. His jaw tensed, he gritted out, "Yes."
He could feel Mykage's eyes drilling a hole into his closed off expression. The angel demanded, "Elaborate. As a Wingless, I don't see how that's possible for someone in your situation."
It's because I'm awesome like that, the thought came popping into his head. Apollonius held back a snide snicker. Cadet Andy Hole's witty vernacular seemed to fit every situation Apollonius found himself in, no matter how inappropriate. Making sure that his link to Mykage's was slammed shut—he didn't want to leak sensitive information or his dirty thoughts by accident—he expanded, "We left off with Crea's parting words, with her trying to explain to you we…got hitched. I'm sure you remember Sophia Belin, my third-in-command when I was merely 'Gen Fudo.' She was the other blonde Wingless you'd encountered sometime in your stint as Toma."
"I do not remember the pleasure of having such an encounter."
Okay, yeah, apparently his "brides" was still a sore spot with the angel. The underlying hostility was unmistakable. Crap. He had to treat this situation like ripping a Band-Aid off. Steeling his nerves, he plowed forward, "She gave birth to our last child, Zen Fudo, and by that time I was in my sixties and I knew dying and going through another reincarnation wouldn't be of any constructive use in another Great Catastrophe were I to be reborn without any memories as my life as 'Gen' and 'Apollonius.' That's why I…" He suddenly couldn't force the words out of his mouth. He tried again. "That's why I-I—"
"That's why you…?" Mykage trailed, his brain riddled with theories and questions. There was one conjecture that stood out, when Apollonius mentioned the child was christened 'Zen,' but it couldn't be. There was no way Apollonius took his son's place. Could he? With a troubled expression, he questioned, "Without the proper information I can only speculate that you…did away with him and stepped in as 'Zen Fudo' after several years because…out of all your spawn, while I cannot see but the most basic likeness, your youngest…resembled you the most? Physically? I believe I'm starting to understand now. Your identity as Gen Fudo would've eventually had to disappear if you were to pass yourself as your long lost son. If you didn't, ah, I see. If you didn't, your identity as a normal, Wingless human commander would've been compromised. While I am uncertain if you had the ability to alter your physical appearance, you must've undergone extensive surgery and training in order to appear before your…family as an adult human Zen. The anecdote you must've come up with would've been quite compelling to explain your disappearance and sudden reentrance into your…family's life."
Apollonius' face spasmed involuntarily. He laughed derisively, "I get what you're saying. While you touched on some elements of the truth, you couldn't have been more wrong." Swallowing against the lump in his throat, he continued, "When I agreed I am…immortal, immovable in time if you'd will, I did not mean that I was immortal when I was Gen. I understand you must be confused. I apologize, it's hard to put into words. I…as Gen Fudo I was simply an ordinary human with memories of a Shadow Angel. If I hadn't…'done away with' my son I would've died an ordinary human's life. Gone through another ordinary reincarnation cycle."
"But that wasn't the case."
"'But that wasn't the case,'" he repeated softly, gripping the bed sheets tightly. "As long as I'm alive, I bear the sin of murdering my own flesh and blood by…by taking his place." As if to confirm his words, a tanned hand lifted to caress his collarbone. Underneath the warm pads of his callused fingers, Apollonius could feel the hard ridge of jutting bone and pulsating blood. Bone and blood that belonged to his baby boy.
This wasn't good. He was getting choked up. Taking a shaky breath, he cleared his features and waited calmly for his emotions to settle despite the heavy gaze pinned on his blank face. He didn't want to talk much more about this but it had to be said. Shuddering, Apollonius murmured in a dead voice, "A long time ago, Rena and I unearthed a memory when we came across the Book of Twin Stars in one of our travels. With each page turned the more we remembered the rituals and spells we learned when we were a Shadow Angel. You should be familiar with the one I decided to cast over my son. Dimensional soul transference or, in this case, an eternal soul transference."
There was a sharp intake of air and Apollonius knew Mykage was starting to connect the pieces.
"Impossible, you…," there was shock laden in his tone, "instead of a Cherubim Soldier, you transferred your soul into your son's? You…you exchanged bodies?"
"You of all people should know a soul transference does not constitute exchanging bodies," Apollonius rejoined tiredly. "Since the vessel I was occupying wasn't an empty machine, my soul mixed with his but I, being the stronger one, ended up with the most control. I became the 'aware soul.' When I 'woke up' as 'Zen,' I was relieved to find my memories as Gen and Apollonius were still attached and the abilities I had transferred over to the new body I occupied."
"It-it would explain your immortality but you are 'Zen Fudo.' In this life." Mykage glanced down at the warm physique underneath him. Exhilaration bubbled in his veins, making him lightheaded. Infinity was the power of gods. The power to appear at any place and bless at any time belonged only to his kind. He was captivated by the seemingly human body present in his audience. It was unprecedented that Apollonius, despite being Wingless, was capable of performing a ritual very few Shadow Angels had been able to accomplish aside from himself—and a few other of his comrades at the once-preexisting Atlandia (he had had his suspicions). "Did you make an everlasting vow with other harlots in order to continue this ritual these 12,000 years?"
"Don't flatter yourself," Apollonius snapped, slamming his eyes open to glare at him, "thinking that I went through the same ordeal each century just because Crea and I made a pact to stop you from destroying the rest of the Wingless population because of what we did long ago. Fortunately," here his voice was as frosty as the arctic winds, "it turns out amongst my son's abilities, he was compatible with the remnants of my wings. With his Element, I lived up to my namesake as an infinite being that remains immovable in time."
"You…" Mykage's eyes were wide and his lavender lips were now slightly parted with the information he had been dealt. "You have…"
"I have some my old feathers embedded in this body," he confirmed, feeling his gut squeeze at how that must have come across to the Shadow Angel. He recalled the angel's fervent pleas earlier today to procreate another generation of Shadow Angels and the horrorstruck face made at his deadpan reminder that he was technically Wingless. He hoped he wasn't giving Mykage new ideas. With that in mind, he hurried to explain, "I do not have enough in me to classify myself as a Shadow Angel or even a hybrid. With Zen's dormant Elemental powers, I simply unlocked them and amongst the hodgepodge he had the potential of absorbing the feathers as fuel to maintain his existence. Our wings were, after all, the force behind our continuous survival."
"In essence," Mykage said slowly, "you are consuming your own feathers to…to continue your immortality?"
"To an extent," Apollonius established just as cautiously. "At least, that is the theory. Beside the two I took into Zen's body, I found over the years I hadn't needed to replenish the stock. I haven't tested it with Crea because we found her bodies to be incompatible with the feathers despite the same soul occupying each one, albeit she was occupying her chosen children's bodies. She underwent the same ritual as I did and she continues to do so within her line of family."
"How did you gain access to your own feathers anyhow?" Mykage interrupted, busying his idle fingers by straightening out Apollonius' starched collar. For some incomprehensible reason he felt vicious satisfaction deep in the back of his mind at the insinuation that Apollonius' original wings rejected the other soul piece. He reasoned it might have to do with the fact that he was pleased he had chosen the right Apollonius to share bodies with, accidental as the selection had been.
He remembered when he first met 'Zen Fudo.' "You never answered my question that time. Until recently the original Wings of the Sun was buried deep inside Earth as a substitute for the Tree of Life so the only time you would've been able to pluck the feathers would've been when the machine was still at your disposal." His brows furrowed. "But even if you had access to Aquarion, you wouldn't have been able to do so when they were in their Vector form. Your wings—the other Sun—were installed in that fluid-filled jewels on Aquarion's head and chest piece, and both only manifested when there were three pilots in combat manning the controls. I'd never once seen you on the front line."
"I had the cadets, and more importantly Apollo, practice gettai-ing and flying the machine in several configurations in combat simulations." He laced his fingers across his stomach, ignoring the traditional Japanese fabric they had brushed against on their journey there. "It wasn't difficult acquiring said feathers when I told them to stand still where they were and not disengage because something was acting up and only I and the DEAVA staff could fix it. A lot of things were taken apart and upgraded, and in the whole hullabaloo it wasn't hard making off with several of my old feathers."
"I don't understand. We would've been able to sense any unusual presence of our brethren's feathers," Mykage protested, trying to recall if there was ever a time he or the other angels felt something was wrong when he had been just Toma and Apollonius as Gen. Aside from Futaba's death, the only child angel that survived Atlantis' destruction 24,000 years before, and Futaba's wings installed in each of the Wingless' Military Vectors and one Wingless scum, they hadn't sensed any disturbances. The reminder of the Child Angel's merciless demise by the hands of filthy, greedy human researchers made Mykage feel both despondent and angry. Disguising his agitation beneath a frighteningly composed voice, he whispered, "If you had acquired them and they were outside of the Machine Angel, we would've known."
Apollonius' heterochromic eyes settled, alarmed, on the angel's face. There was something amiss about the forced tranquility. "Yes, that was the danger. However, Aquarion remained in DEAVA's headquarters and the feathers in my possession. Because I spent so much time at HQ, their presence was masked by the overwhelming presence of those contained within the jewel."
"I see. Yet the times the Wings of the Sun left your military base…there was no indication that you had some in your hands."
"You and the others were preoccupied battling the cadets. Also, everyone else was under the impression Apollo was Solar Wing. There's also the fact several of my feathers were used to power up some of the old Military Vectors lying around Base. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if some of them are still around despite…" He fell silent, remembering the unnecessary death of an innocent Shadow Angel that didn't deserve to go the way he did. They were on opposing sides, yes, but the Shadow Angels treated Sirius de Alisia better than the human researching team had with the Child Angel.
"Despite…?" Mykage drawled warningly, his gaze piercing as daggers. There was an abrupt vindictive air writhing around the astral projection's form, suffocating in both intensity and weight. He dug his nails into Apollonius' arm in attempt to steady himself.
Apollonius gritted his teeth and he stared resolutely into those indigo pools. He said regretfully, "Casualties in war are unavoidable and in order to make it in combat there must be discretion. I understand we are talking about the one that perished under unauthorized experimentation carried out by my Second's orders. I'm sorry that he died the way he did and I'm sorry I wasn't made aware of his situation until he was dead." His gaze softened. "While I definitely cannot condone the cruelty he suffered till his dying breath, he was another casualty of war. Either way he had to go. And unfortunately he didn't die on the battlefield. But even I'm aware he didn't need to die the way he did."
"I hoped that at least opened your eyes to your beloved Wingless' true heartless nature," Mykage whispered back bitterly. "I hope now you realize they're not as pure as you romanticized them to be."
"I know that I did in my previous life," Apollonius mumbled, his eyes downcast, "and I am sorry for all the grief I've caused you and the others." Inhaling a deep breath, he met Mykage's averted ones and held them. "But I couldn't sit back and let you harvest all those humans. There must be a balance. We were not made to take lives. We were created by the Creator to guard His many creations and pass along His Will and Judgment. Just because some are some bad apples in the bunch doesn't mean we can generalize them to the entire crops. They are imperfect, not created as we were. That's what makes them human. Their actions, however irrational and unkind they sometimes are, don't reflect their monstrosity. They're not defects."
"I ceaselessly fail to comprehend your…affections for those lower-class scums." Mykage's mouth twisted down. "They are nothing more than a plague that destroys everything they touch."
"Nevertheless we fed off of those you call a plague," Apollonius reminded him, wrapping his mind around the petulant tone taken by the Shadow Angel. He didn't bother finishing that line of dialogue. The angel could hear the implication being made. That if they fed from scum, what were they?
Seeing how the angel wasn't about to go and change his mind, Apollonius decided to drag the topic back to somewhat safer waters. Sitting up and readjusting Mykage's position over his lap, he queried, "That aside, could you explain your fixation with me? I betrayed you. And backed off of fertilizing the Tree of Life. And broke my promise that I was going to make the Vow of Wings with you." He paused, rewinding his words internally. He hid a wince. "On second thought, never mind. I seemed to have answered my own question. Even I would've developed a complex toward me."
Indigo whorls stared into the heterochromic eyes silently, and Apollonius resisted the urge to squirm underneath that intent watch. Sliding his icy fingertips along the smooth tanned skin underneath, Mykage cupped Apollonius' face, his thumbs stoking the two jutting cheekbones. He seemed to be in a better mood, lifted from whatever spell had overcome him, as his expression gentled into something more…creepily tender. Eyelashes lowered, he murmured, "My twin, I am heartened that you are attempting to understand my motives. You must realize…I was born with these feelings, the feelings Toma held for his beloved Apollonius. That means I was born with his hate and his love. For you."
His mouth quirked up self-deprecatingly. "And even you have to admit it was a low blow repaying me with not one but two betrayals. I was willing to forgive your indiscretion with that blonde harlot. I put myself at stake by petitioning the Council to cancel your execution and instead give you a different punishment. I requested Moroha to release your prized harlot because I knew she meant a lot to you. That Wingless pilot—Scorpius, was it?—had been executed before us and I knew you wouldn't be able to handle hers. It broke my heart seeing you in pain. And so, I disregarded my own because you meant so much to me. And what did you do? You refused me.
"Then came the time when I was brought back from stasis, my heart torn asunder with joy and pain at your supposed reawakening. When I thought he was you, 'you' fought me and it hurt every time I looked at 'you' and 'you' looked back at me with those empty eyes, crying out for 'Baron this' and 'Silvia that.' I gave 'you' back your companion. I originally wanted to retrieve our 12,000-year old love letter to spare 'you' from embarrassment from 'your' peers. When we piloted your Machine Angel, I sacrificed myself so that your beloved Earth was saved and I was content to die with the knowledge I was reunited with you, even if you loved another. But then you refused me. Again.
"I died, forfeiting my life needlessly as the last Shadow Angel alive with your hound and half of the harlot's soul? While you remained alive, celebrating how convenient it was that I disappeared and your precious world was saved?" Mykage was a wreck, his face scrunched up into something horrible. His words were an angry hiss and it took all of Apollonius to remain silent. Apollonius bit back the dissent threatening to pour from his lips. He needed to hear this. No matter how much he disagreed with what's being said, he needed to hear this.
"You're a selfish, lying, cheating lowlife with commitment issues." He laughed humorlessly. "It begs to question why I still love you so much, you vain, egotistical, self-righteous knuckleheaded tool. A greater revenge and insult would be to forget all about you and love another. Otoha adored me—worshiped my very existence.
"I kissed her, you know?" he added snidely, hoping to get a rise or any reaction—even if it was an eyebrow raised—out of Apollonius. "Her lips were as soft as I'd imagined. Our kiss was so sweet, so amorous. I could feel her trembling against me. I could see her need to complete the Vow with me. I had CONSIDERED it."
Err, Apollonius really didn't know how to respond to any of that. Perhaps a 'congratulations' or 'good going' was in order? Or was that too forward of him? Okay, this is taking on an awkward bent, he thought resignedly to himself. Insults to his person were acceptable. Being reminded how he was a terrible, terrible being was tolerable. Being told too much personal information that he didn't need to know…not quite so much.
Thankfully the 12,000 year old spirit wasn't done ranting. "And when I endeavored to go through it, all I could think about was getting my revenge on you. And then Otoha said she loved me. SHE SAID SHE LOVED ME, APOLLONIUS!" Mykage looked at him as if it was Apollonius' fault that she did. "I couldn't subjugate her to that kind of false love. Not after how she had looked after me all those years, never straying by my side. Unlike you, she never once thought of betraying me. Her life was devoted to me and my every whim. If I told her I was starving, she wouldn't hesitate to bring me nourishment. If I was bored, she would always sing me a song or play a melody to entertain me. When I was sick, she nursed me back to health whenever you couldn't be bothered to take care of me. Where you left me brokenhearted and wretched, she was there to pick up the pieces. Where I was unable to fully hate you, she was there to hate you for me."
Err!
"And she was there when we first met," Mykage's voice died down to a whisper. All the fight seemed to leak out of him and he collapsed on top of Apollonius. His head knocked lightly against Apollonius' chin. "She was there when the Elders announced our engagement to the public. She was there reading our first 'real' letter exchanges and teasing me for being so nauseatingly affectionate. She was there when I asked her if she could believe I was the brother and betrothed to the Solar Wing, the Sun's Gift? She was there listening to me rant for hours what a sight you made on the battlefield, massacring all those Wingless creatures with such skill and finesse. She was there when I returned from our tryst in the human world where you showed me all the wonders the world had to offer. She was there beside me when I was recovering from my wounds and you were out avenging me. She was there when I told her like the lovesick fool that I was that we had truly become lovers. She was there when I told her the first time that we had kissed, and the first time you finally initiated one. And she…she was there all the times I said I loved you when you weren't. When you were gone. And when you were truly 'gone.'"
A soft noise escaped Apollonius' lips and he rubbed the small of Mykage's back, hoping to assuage his tension. Poor angel. Now he understood more behind the angel's infatuation for him. When he felt the body melt against him, he he slid a hand up to cup the nape of Mykage's neck. "Go on," he breathed against the exposed helix, the folded over outside edge of the ear. His thumb stroked languidly over the skin of the angel's neck. "If it'll make you feel better telling me everything you've wanted to say to me all those years but never got the chance to because I was a selfish bastard who only thought of himself, I'm listening now."
And herself, Apollonius added mentally to himself, adding to Crea's list of guilt that he knew that she would never feel for the affected parties. Smiling sadly, he asked, "What else?"
Mykage huffed, breathing hotly against Apollonius' cheek. He said in a subdued manner, "That's all I had. I just wanted to yell at you for a bit. And then I caved in to nostalgia. I don't feel like yelling at you anymore."
"Ah." Apollonius felt a smile curving up his lips. Mykage was cute. He was like the child that got drowsy after throwing a temper tantrum. Grinning broadly against the angel's ear, Apollonius offered, "Anytime you feel the need to yell at me, you're welcome to do so. Within the private confines of this room or when no one's around. I expect it'll be a bit distracting if you suddenly do so when I'm surrounded by other people."
Mykage was silent and then muttered a string of words that almost sounded unintelligible due to his quietness. "…Why are you being so nice to me?"
"Hmm?"
Drawing back, Mykage grasped Apollonius' shoulders. With a serious expression, he clarified, "I said why are you being so…so accommodating? I did things I'm not proud of. It is within your right, however much it pains me, to loathe me. You flinch back when I touch you and I could tell you're forcing yourself to relax your guard around me. I am under no illusions that you love me as much as I love you. You even said so yourself that you wouldn't be able to. So why…why the effort?"
The nicer you are, Mykage whispered across their link, the more I'll fall deeper in love with you. He wasn't aware that the mental connection had been closed off and with the meditative air around the High Commander, he assumed Apollonius was mulling over his words. His eyes roved up to gaze hungrily at Apollonius' face. He was waiting for the words that might be his salvation or dying grace.
Apollonius was startled by Mykage's observations. He'd been trying to suppress his automatic reactions to the angel's advances as best as he could, so that he wouldn't offend or startle him. His brows knitted. His entire plan could be jeopardized if Mykage found out his true intentions. Then he noticed the slightest fear hidden within those indigo depths as he surfaced from his inner musings and Apollonius felt himself wavering. It was so obvious that the supernatural entity was head-over-heels in love with the former Apollonius. He felt sorry that both Toma and Mykage fell for his past self, who admittedly had been a big jerk. He said slowly, "You understand although I have his memories and his soul, I am nonetheless the reincarnation of Apollonius? Kind of like how Silvia and Sirius were both Celiane, but split into two people each with their own wills and desires."
Mykage's head gave a small jerk back but then he nodded firmly. "Honestly? At times you seem so much like him it's like talking to the former Apollonius. You also refer to him as yourself so I find myself confused. He is a special person to me."
"He is a part of myself as much as I am a part of him," he replied sincerely. "I have his memories and he has mine. We share the same soul engraved with approximately two-thirds the same abilities and memories. That makes him me. But at the same time I am my own person, Gen Fudo, the man born with a Shadow Angel's soul and memories, the same man who essentially led a very different life from the original Apollonius. While I remember Celiane and you, I did not know you two personally yet he remembers so."
"Is it troubling?" He studied the commander's tranquil visage. "Having your memories interchangeable with the one you…Apollonius had?" He touched Apollonius' chest, feeling the warm heart beating against his skin. Mykage breathed, "He is there…inside of you. I can feel him, you."
"He is. But he is not a separate personality or anything of that sort. He's me. I do not hear his voice when I recall things. I hear mine. It's like in your situation but a bit more…detached." He blinked and rectified, "No, in fact, Crea and I resemble what you and Toma are. I know this is bewildering and I'm probably not making any sense regarding our newfound identity crisis but in Apollonius' case, we were once him so we are him and at the same time we are ourselves."
"And that is why you flinch away from me?" Mykage asked quietly, his hand sliding down the length of the commander's lean body to grasp the warm, naked hand beside his lap. He curled his fingers around tanned ones. "Because while you are Apollonius, you are yourself?"
Apollonius glanced down at their entwined fingers but didn't make a comment about it. He gave Mykage's hand a small squeeze. "Reviewing his memories, while I cannot sense the feelings he held for either Celiane or you, I can infer he still felt something for the both of you. Actions speak louder than words, after all. Again, both he and I regret what we did all this years. But while I get the gist of his mind-set, what I like and don't like aren't exactly mirror-image to the ones he has. I personally don't know you. You are a stranger to me." He tapped the side of his head. "But in here, I know who you are."
"But I don't know 'you,'" Mykage affirmed. "We should rectify that."
He would really prefer not to but…Apollonius nodded, squaring his jaw. "We are already in the makings of establishing a purely. Professional. Rapport. Truthfully I would favor putting the past behind us and stepping forward as Towano, Mykage and Fudo, Zen…but I understand reliving the past is important to you. That's why I need you to comprehend while our situations are unusual, we need to begin the pages of our new chapters together without our previous lives tying us down. We need to start anew, lest we fall back into the cycle of animosity and hate. You are half of Toma's soul. I am one of Apollonius' corporeal reincarnations. You must be tired of me repeating myself but…this is the distinction I want to emphasize clearly. We both are similar in that we have our past identities' memories and souls within us, but the intensity we identify with our past selves divulges here. Can we at least agree on that? If you desire so, both Crea and I can refer to you as 'Toma' or 'Mykage.' Whichever one suits you best. We'll leave that for you to decide."
Mykage smiled and he inclined his head coyly. "Your terms are acceptable. But I have a condition of my own, if you'd kindly hear me out."
"…Go on."
"Permit me to continue calling you 'Apollonius,'" Mykage delivered, his indigo gaze intently holding onto the steely heterochromic one. His voice was almost of a zealous slur as he beseeched, "As reprisal for all those years of torment, allow me this simple revenge. I will be whoever you want me to be. Toma, Mykage, another name perhaps. I will be at your every beck and call. If you want me to address your dear other half as the name of the descendant she possesses, I will. If you want to preserve our peaceful cohabitation, I promise you I will not do anything to threaten our new bond. But you—Gen Fudo, 'High Commander Zen Fudo,' the reincarnation of my beloved Apollonius, the murderer of his own son and thousands of Wingless and brethren—are guilty of multiple counts of anarchism."
The metaphysical projection was breathing rapidly now, a pleasured expression crossing those fair features. He was swaying on top of Apollonius' lap drunkenly, as if he couldn't help himself from experiencing the newfound high. He purred gleefully, "This will be your sentence. You will no longer have the luxury of siphoning off the security of all those aliases in my presence."
Apollonius fell silent, his expression closed off. The nausea building up in his gut had crawled up to the back of his throat with each insane statement spilling forth those lavender lips. He screwed his mouth shut, clamping down tightly till his lips were a thin white line.
Mykage giggled, bringing Apollonius' slack hands to his mouth and slowly kissing them like a husband would to his wife. "Will you? Will you really! I'm so glad you agree, Apollonius. Dearly departed, we are gathered on this day in the attendance of these witnesses to mourn the passing of the deceased commanders Gen and Zen Fudo in honor of the beautiful estate that is Holy Matrimony, uniting these two persons present. Indeed, this happy occasion is ideal for 'a good name is better than fine perfume, and the day of death better than the day of birth,' isn't that right Apollonius?" (2)
The hair on the back of Apollonius' neck rose at the singsong sentences professing their supposed concord. The angel was still chained to the past. 'What the eyes can see is but an enchantment, a delusion chaining one to the past,' he remembered saying that once long ago when the angel had questioned him where the mechanical vessel powered by the angel Apollonius' discarded wings was…and he also remembered feeling greatly insulted that he'd been told his son's body was ugly.
"With this rebirth, we remind them that they are performing an act of complete faith each in the other; that the heart of their union will be the relationship they create," Mykage continued, nipping at Apollonius' fingertip until skin broke and moaning at its delicious coppery taste filling his mouth. His lavender lips were coated with a smear of red and he lifted a slightly bloody smile. "In a world where faith often falls short of expectation and betrayals remain unbridled, we hold these two self-evident in their pledge to always remain together as one."
Eyes as wide as saucers, his survival instinct kicked in and Apollonius tore his appendages away. With much trepidation, he realized he could not scoot back so he watched warily, wildly as the angel continued smiling at him dazedly despite the swift separation. With fascinated horror, he found his eyes following the slick pink tongue slithering out of the confines of Mykage's mouth and leisurely drag itself across the coated rims before darting back into the orifice. Another pleasured purr escaped from Mykage and Apollonius was seriously, honestly starting to get freaked out. His spine bent back as far as it could from the other soul shard and it was a struggle to keep his lid closed in case the angel sensed his restlessness.
Mykage suddenly blinked and then noticed the space between him and Apollonius. "Oh dear," he tsked empathetically, knitting his brows. "That position cannot be that comfortable. You could pull your muscles. We cannot have that, can we, Apollonius?" Looping an arm around the commander's waist, he hauled himself closer until they were touching chest-to-chest. As if that little episode hadn't happened, he purred, "There, don't you feel better, Apollonius?"
No, Apollonius did NOT feel any better to be trapped in near proximity with an obsessive psychopath whose moods changed from an endearing tyke's to a crazy stalker trying to force his affections on him because he was the reincarnation of the Solar Wing! Knowing better than to air his true thoughts though, he replied in a strained voice, "Don't you feel uncomfortable yourself maintaining that position for so long? The blood flow must've been cut off in your legs for the duration of our…conversation."
Mykage hummed pensively. "They do feel numb."
Wonderful.
Clearing his throat, Apollonius implored, "Do you have any further questions or concerns you need to be addressed? It's…" he took a sidelong peek at the hovering digital counter on his nightstand, "…03:41. This leaves me an hour or so to get some sleep before we have to get up and prepare to brief the cadets. Unlike yours, a human body has needs." He glowered at him. "If I want to wake up with a clear enough mind to speak articulately, I need rest."
"Really?" he enthused. "What a pity."Apollonius stared at him and Mykage stared back. "Well?"
"Do you have any questions?" His exasperation was apparent.
"I believe it's enough for today. Humans tire so easily. Get some rest," he chided, pushing against Apollonius' shoulder gently. When the commander remained immovable, Mykage sighed and said, "After hearing you grumble about needing your beauty sleep, now you decide you don't want any? Fickle-minded hypocrites aren't attractive, beloved."
"How long are you staying out?" came the deadpanned reply.
"Oh?" Mykage raised a brow. "That's what has you so worried? It's not like I'll do anything despicable to you when you're unconscious." He smiled sweetly. "You can trust me."
The day I trust you is the day I trust a starving Crea not to make off with my favorite donuts lying out in the open, Apollonius internally muttered to himself. Shaking his head off that thought, he said, "No, it's not that. Well, it kind of belongs to it. We do need to establish boundaries." He shook his head once more, berating himself for forgetting to mention that when he first woke up. "You don't feel fatigued? For how long can you stay out as a metaphysical projection before you feel the strain?"
"I replenished my energy with the short nap I took inside you. You're very hospitable, you are aware? You feel quite warm."
Uh. Apollonius rolled his eyes. Adrenaline from that moment was still pulsing through him. His nerves still high-strung, he waited to the angel to say more and he grew more irritated when Mykage didn't carry on. Well then. If that's how he wanted to play it. The only response Mykage got to his own rhetorical inquiry was a small huff before Apollonius let himself fall back onto his bed, quickly rolling over to face the wall and pulling the covers over his lanky form.
The Shadow Angel restrained himself from laughing at the white bundle that still remained below him. How precious, he thought fondly. Sliding off, he dropped himself down beside the commander. He gazed up at the brown tuft of hair poking out from the thick bedding. Stroking the soft material of the cover—where Apollonius back would be if the blanket wasn't there—Mykage whispered, "And you? You have any questions or concerns?" He was returning the favor. After all, he'd been brought up to have manners.
When Apollonius remained unresponsive and still underneath the covers for an innumerable amount of time, Mykage resigned himself to thinking he had fallen asleep. His lashes were fluttering drowsily when suddenly a low, husky baritone rumbled disbelievingly, "Our 12,000-year old love letter?"
He couldn't hold back the laughter this time. When the loud peals eventually settled down, Mykage huffed out an amused sigh when he sensed the commander was practically pouting at him judging by the distance put between them again and how the commander's head was buried fully into the sheets. Adorable. Really, Apollonius was adorable. Still chuckling, he murmured, "Oh, don't be so petulant. I didn't mean to laugh at you, beloved. Your incredulity was so comical I couldn't help myself. Come back here. You're going to fall off the edge of your bed where you're at, Apollonius."
But Apollonius remained stubbornly where he was. With another fond smile, Mykage dragged the cocoon back against him until he was virtually spooned against Apollonius, throwing an arm and a leg over the sheets. There. "Are you still mad? I was surprised out of everything that could've been answered, that's the one thing you decided to ask me. It's not something you remember, is that correct?"
He could hear incoherent grumbling underneath the cover and he felt some shifting against him before, at last, Apollonius deigned to poke his head out so as to stare sulkily at him. He teased, "Even if 'you' insist 'you' are 'yourself,' you still act like an overgrown tot. You even now show uncanny resemblance. But that's not what you're so curious about." Mykage sighed dramatically, pressing his cheek against the exposed part of Apollonius' neck. Disregarding the resultant incessant grousing that they 'definitely needed to address personal boundaries' and how 'Crea was right, we need to talk about this, damn it,' closing his eyes Mykage asked, "Is that all you have? For your sake, I hope it is. You have less time to get your rest the more questions you have for me."
Making a tsking noise with his tongue, Mykage pondered how he'd go about explaining the existence behind the only remaining evidence of their once daily mail exchanges as he felt the reincarnation of his beloved acquiesce by nodding jerkily. "I believed you had referred to the feather as a 'holy relic,' an 'arcane artifact from a holy scripture' long before. Yes, I believe so that you did. Based on the few memories you allocated for my viewing pleasure, I remember your other half recognized its familiarity and that was why you described it as is.
"'We must take the wishes from 12,000 years ago very seriously.' That was your words long ago.
"A fitting name for a memory of our correspondence. Yes, yes I think I like it. Yes, let's call it our holy relic. It's certainly better than calling it our love letter, wouldn't you agree?"
Apollonius interjected dourly, "A boulder can withstand a torrent of environmental abuse but time itself will wear it down. With the way you're describing it, I wouldn't be surprised if this ends up as a drawn out bed time story."
"I want to draw this out as much as possible," Mykage confessed, nuzzling against him. "I want to remind you every single thing we did in our past lives. I want to make sure you forgot nothing."
"It's out of the question. While I'm certainly curious, getting as much sleep as I can is more important than satisfying this trivial curiosity of mine. Mykage, if you're not going to enlighten me of…how its purpose came to be promptly, I'm going to fall asleep on you."
"…Then I want to make a deal."
"We already made one. I didn't even agree to it but here we are."
"Apollonius, I want to tell you a bedtime story every night. Stories of everything we did and shared when we were together. Stories of the battlefield. Stories of our engagement. Stories of the lovely dreams I had both of my lives. For this night, I'll tell you how our holy relic came to be. I will summarize the main points in a short, condensed tale and if you are lulled to sleep by my voice, I will pick up where we left off tomorrow night. In return I ask you not to interrupt me while I'm reminiscing unless I tell you it is a night you can ask your questions." He shifted closer, letting himself be engulfed with the fragrance once more. Mykage yearned for Apollonius to embrace him back. He was so close. He was a temptation.
"It is after all what you want, no? Is it presumptuous of me to long to share my innermost feelings with someone else who would understand where I'm coming from? When it's my most precious person? I won't feel as forlorn when there's a warm body willingly listening to me and you…you will gain greater understanding of our history and why I love you so much when the you-of-now cannot comprehend its sheer devotion and magnitude to your memory. You will learn more about me and the kind you used to belong to, and all I request is that you listen to the pathetic ramblings of a pining soul."
Apollonius was soundless throughout his monologue and when Mykage stopped, he spoke up gruffly, "Is this one of those nights?"
Mykage smiled broadly against Apollonius' neck. "No, today is only a brief story. Now, shhhh.
"Many a long years ago, when the Machine Angel and Cherubim Soldiers hadn't existed yet and you were still faithful to me, the newly christened Exalted Holy Angel missed his brother and betrothed terribly, so much so that there were many sleepless nights like this one. So one day he decided to give in to his desires and inscribe a letter into one of the feathers he plucked from his wings. It was a slow, painful process but he poured his love and veneration into it. His hope was invested in it. It was a sacrilegious act for no known records were to be kept of this powerful but private message. In the dead of night he transferred the feather to an accomplice to deliver it out of Atlandia when most were slumbering and the few Shadow Angels that up were preoccupied assigned for their duties, and he prayed with all his heart that it'd reach his intended.
Several Harvests passed, and the angel was losing hope that it had reached his lover. By that time he was drowning in loneliness and he even missed the Solar Wing's harsh words. But came a day, to his astonishment, he found on his Scrying Desk the same feather, the same color and contour he recognized as his own. But it was sealed within amber. At first he assumed his post had been intercepted. But he wasn't aware of any punishment coming to him. He checked the Hall of Annuals but the feather remained unaware to others.
"There was only one conclusion. Behind closed doors there was much trepidation when he dissolved the seal." With the side of Apollonius' face exposed to him, Mykage traced the long scar overlaying the eye he'd mistaken to contain an iridescent iris. He tilted his head. Instead of iridescence, it was actually a medley of colors that reminded him of Vega, of what Earth used to look like before it split into two planets. Thankfully Apollonius was so far keeping quiet. "He heard his beloved's voice and he felt his beloved's warm aura around him, comforting like basking in the sun's rays. His love was thanking him for all the trouble the Holy Angel had gone through for him, and also for his feelings for him. His intended expressed his fondness for the angel and the angel felt his heart bursting with pride when 'he' admitted 'he' had missed him too."
Mykage nervously licked his lips. "That day when our holy relic fell back into your hands, you told everyone that anyone who dared touched my feather imbued with your bright energy was to be punished severely. Although you remained unconscious to its actual purpose, you must have sensed its familiarity. When you handled it, you felt residue of your past self and mine underneath your fingers. Your other soul half, Rena, was the one that remembered everything. But she didn't tell you." Sensing that Apollonius about to dissent, he reached over and covered Apollonius' mouth. "Shh, I understand your objection. She is a part of you after all and you've shared all your past memories together. But I know what I saw and your memory of that day was loud and clear to me.
"That's all I have for today, Apollonius," Mykage concluded, sighing in relief. "You're a marvelous listener when you make the effort to listen to me." Finally, after all the years anyhow, he thought bitterly.
Smelling Apollonius' natural cologne, he mumbled softly, "Apollonius, in this life, in this new body of yours, although you are theoretically Wingless I still think you are a wonderful creature. I can sense your dread every time I approach you yet you ALLOW me this luxury. Despite being a new person, you RESPOND to me like how 'my Apollonius' would…to make me feel welcomed, unthreatened.
"Your other half is as cautious as you are around me but still she makes an attempt—however poorly done—to play nice. But you, you my lovely, gave me so. Much. More. And that is why…"
He pressed his lips against the exposed shell of Apollonius' ear. "…you, willingly giving yourself as an offering to me, to this god, I will never let you go. We will never part. Ever. Again."
The digital counter glowed a dim blue 04:02 and Apollonius was perched up on his elbows studying Mykage's sleeping form. There was a content smile playing on the angel's lips and, probably for the first time of his miserable life, Mykage looked peaceful. Apollonius scrubbed his tired eyes. After Mykage's words, he couldn't fall asleep. So all this time he had pretended to doze off until finally, finally Mykage had given way to his dreams and had reflexively loosened his grip on Apollonius. What occurred afterward involved a very delicate procedure where he had to disentangle himself from those long limbs without waking the angel up. By the time he had succeeded in escaping, the sun still had not yet ascended so the room remained bathed in shadows.
On his bed, to his eyes the pale skin of metaphysical spirit appeared to shine with a soft brilliance against his old mattress. It was almost as if the creature was the one light in this world that remained untouched by the darkness around them. The High Commander observed the steady rise and fall of the angel's chest for a while, ruminating in his seemingly calm thoughts. He exhaled noisily.
"Never let me go, huh?" he muttered the words to himself, ghosting his fingers across the sensitive tips of the apparition's avian locks. The angel had said he was 'wonderful,' that he was special because he had 'offered' himself to the vengeful spirit. He scoffed at that. At the sound, Mykage's face knitted into a troubled expression. Apollonius stilled.
Even in his dreams the angel sought him out.
With an unintelligible murmur, Mykage unconsciously snuggled closer, burrowing against the only close source of heat available to him. A pleased sigh seeped from Mykage's mouth. Apollonius smirked acrimoniously. "You're arrogant to a fault, Shadow Angel."
Apollonius' eyes fell on top of the parted lavender lips puffing hot air against his collarbone. The angel's lips had always been a source of fascination for the previous 'Apollonius.' When Mykage had been Toma, whenever he deigned to impart his blessings or use his voice the human way, they would mysteriously become a darker shade of pink. It was a color one might expect after passionately kissing, swollen lips and all that aside. For some reason, the color reminded 'Apollonius' of the pinky cherry blossoms in the area where Japan would come to be called, when 'he' had been assigned patrol on Earth. It wasn't until 'he' met Celiane and watched her apply lip gloss once that 'he' realized that was why she occasionally reminded 'him' of his betrothed.
Frowning at the memory, Apollonius gave into his curiosity. He lightly prodded the angel's mouth—his lips felt surprisingly plush and soft—and then withdrew his finger for careful examination. Squinting in the dark, he gave an amused sigh when he didn't make out a lavender stain on his skin. So it wasn't lipstick, as he had assumed. Or juice. It was a natural shade of Mykage's mouth. Which, in Apollonius' personal opinion, was bizarre.
Discounting the hair, mouth coloring, and concealed wings, Mykage physically resembled a human being. If Apollonius hadn't known any better, he would've assumed he was lying beside another man. Or a woman. He blinked. Or a feminine-looking man. Yeah, that made much more sense. Tucking his jaw against a fist, Apollonius scrutinized every inch of the angel from head to toe.
(He didn't know if he'd be able to do this as blatantly as he was now once Mykage regained consciousness. Truth be told, he most likely wouldn't want to if Mykage was awake. It wouldn't be a surprise to him if Mykage took his innocuous interest as an invitation. He stifled a groan. He definitely didn't want that. Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts.)
Wearily his eyes lingered on the bulky Japanese ceremonial robes. Besides the coloring of his mouth, Mykage's attire was equally odd. Wherever the angel got his flashy fashion sense from, he had gotten it when 'Apollonius' no longer existed. The previous Toma wouldn't be caught dead wearing what he was now. To his knowledge, Apollonius was under the impression that Toma had preferred muted, neutral colors. Mykage's thighs were pressing uncomfortably against Apollonius' knees and this drew his concentration down to those dark knee-high boots. This was another thing he thought was weird about Mykage.
As Shadow Angels, they had always hovered above the ground. Because of that many of their kind remained shoeless. The ones that didn't would prefer something simple, like sandals. They were easier to make without taking much from God's creations. Even the 'Apollonius' in his memories had gone barefoot…most of the time.
He wondered why Mykage was of a different mindset.
Apollonius sighed once more and got rid of himself of that trivial deliberation. Gazing at Mykage's slender ankles, another questioning matter came to him and his thoughts stuttered to an awkward stop. He felt his cheeks redden. Um, well, he might as well. His attention was slowly was brought back up to where the apex of those legs led, to the area where Mykage's genitalia would be. His gaze grew calculating.
Cadet Sazanka Bianca had been right when she had referred to Mykage as a hermaphrodite. Or, at least, Apollonius assumed Mykage was. Shadow Angels, unlike humans, were born encased in a body predominately female or male, but they also contained both male and female parts within them. (3) Toma and 'Apollonius' had fallen in the latter category and so, following their customs, were referred to as their prevailing gender. The High Commander drummed his nails against his jaw in thought. In theory, Mykage should also be in the same position because of his species. But how he came into existence was an abnormal process—added to that, he was sheathed in Zen's body which was male all around—so Apollonius wasn't sure. But the spirit had said he owed him a Vow of Wings. That would suggest Mykage was capable of giving birth. And birth was sacred to the Shadow Angels' culture so making light of such capability was almost blasphemous.
Actually it now made a lot of sense why the Toma of the alternative universe had been so enraged when he had miscarried. Apollonius' heart had gone out to him (at that moment, he'd been almost moved to tears by the pity he'd felt for Toma whereas Rena had been analyzing the fight stonily). However unintentional it was, Apollo was largely at fault for killing their offspring. And it was also an oversight on Toma's part because the angel should have known better. The primordial Vow of Wings was a venerated, powerful pledge two angels made, vowing their eternal devotion and requiring the complete synchronization of thoughts and emotions for one another. If one's intensity of feelings didn't match the recipient's or wasn't intended for that person, the ritual was meant to fail. Apollo only had eyes for Silvia so Toma got too full of himself by thinking Apollo had consented to impregnate the angel, as if their friendly fight suddenly made Apollo "love" Toma. Which was far from what had happened.
Had Apollonius been in Apollo's place, even with his memories, were he to have loved his descendent like Apollo did, even he was certain the ritual would've failed.
Maybe Toma didn't know this. Maybe that was why Mykage had been under the impression the Vow could be made with the Apollonius-in-Zen's-body. The Vow of Wings wasn't that easy to commit to. Because they were essentially creating new life, a god's power and a gift that had been blessed to His creations, there must be conscious consent and love from both angelic parties willing to undergo the sacred rite for it to work.
If it were true, that explained everything. Apollonius groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Exhaustion crept into his bones. Of course the angel would be unaware of this condition. Because no one treated the ritual frivolously and no one—until 'Apollonius,' that is—had fell hard for another being—a Wingless, no less!—it was expected that Toma might've fallen under the popular misimpression. Unlike 'Apollonius' who had been told time and time again that since he was the Solar Wing, he had to fertilize the Tree of Life and to pass that special trait on through his son or daughter—and therefore it was expected of him to have read more into the specifics of the ritual—Toma, who only knew what he knew based on observance of bonded angels, most likely guessed that as long as you were Winged, you were able to participate. Besides needing to discuss the importance of personal space ASAP, a reeducation of Shadow Angel customs was in order (both needed to be brought up as diplomatically as possible).
Doubtfully eyeing Mykage, Apollonius settled back down on his side of the bed, once more situated as far as he could out of the angel's reach without falling off the bed. Heterochromic eyes glittering with resolution, he firmly promised to the sleeping angel, "I'll show you wonderful."
Notes:
(1)- This point made about wings is important for future chapters. I will touch upon this again and again because a central part of the plot revolves around this concept.
(2)- A mixture of matrimonial rites and funeral sermon and a whole lot of Mykage-bugfuckery. Feminine and delicate as he looks, he's still the same sadistic fragment we all know and hate. He's not insane (thus far), but he's a sinister metaphysical entity who's obsessed with all things Solar Wing. In case some of you were curious, the verse belongs to Ecclesiastes 7:1 NIV.
(3)- Angels actually have been said to be of neither sex…so I was puzzling initially over which pronouns to refer to Apollonius and Toma and Mykage as. Or, at least, some people also have said angels could be asexual and have no reproductive organs at all. And then there are others that say they are hermaphrodites. In the OVAs, Toma was impregnated once…so I would assume although he was referred to as a "he," he had, if not similar to, a womb. And then I generalized. So here I tried writing a rational description, mixing the animes' contingency and the many biblical interpretations of what angels are, here in the most unerotic way possible.
Review Responses:
Ayame. Tenou- Close, very close actually :) I agree, cliffhangers are the worst invention ever to be made! It's an evil, evil tool writers use to torment us innocent readers. Yet it's also quite fun when you're not on the receiving end, muahhahahaha. As you can see, there are many twists I will continue making. But thank you for your interest in Ad Infinitum. It is reviewers like you that make me want to continue writing this story!
xNINJABLADE45x- Be assured, wherever I plan to take this, this story will be quite titillating. And hopefully reasonable/ as canon as possible.
Guest (1)- Those are the best compliments anyone could give me, especially regarding this story! But regarding the plot, there are things I will eventually reveal that I realize may be sensitive to some people…but there is reason behind my madness. For example, I have two things further down the story that will be based on the angels,' uh, interpretive genders. I think. One will lead to a very heartbreaking scene so I'm still puzzling if I should do that one.
A fan (Guest 2)- Wow, um, whoever you are, you made me blush. Thank you so much for your well-thought out review! Lengthy ones are especially so rare…that's why it's so touching to me that you'd be willing to go through the effort of pouring all your thoughts and emotions. I couldn't stop smiling as I reread it to give myself motivation. (I honestly was really happy when I read yours and you were the one that inspired me to finish this chapter.) And yes, I did intend to make Zen as Neo-DEAVA's resident father figure. And the "crush" was not something I had thought of…but it is an interesting idea to consider. I could see Zessica having a little crush on him. –laughs- By the way, it's my intention to redeem every single character while keeping them as canon as possible. I don't intend for, let's say Mikono, to suddenly gain a personality switch.
Hichitsuki-hime- Aww, well the whole reason why I wrote this was because while I'm grateful for director Kawamori (and I guess Chinatsu Kurahana, the designer that worked on the male characters) for breathing life into these characters, the anime was too full of fanservice/ plotholes to properly tie up loose ends. So I feel the same way, darling! I hope you enjoy future chapters because this plotbunny hasn't been tranquilized just yet! (Psst, to make up for my hiatuses, I've decided to write longer chapters so you'd have something to savor while I torture you all with my slowness.)
ShiroHachikuji- Heehee, isn't it amusing? Thanks for your interest in this story btw.
Next chapter: real plot commencement. See you soon, lovelies!