Hey y'all!

Heehee, it's finally here! Chapter 5! :P Sorry this has taken so long, and that it's so short...Hopefully it'll appease you guys until the next time I get the chance to write :P
For the Supernatural fans out there, I'm still working on my other things; I know I'm pretty far behind on the WOWs, but I'll work on catching up ASAP!

Thanks to everyone who's still reading this fic. All of your reviews have kept me working at it, whenever I can find the time!

...Timmies is my new best friend. Heehee. *slurps some of her Mocha Iced Capp -that's right, MOCHA!*

Anywho...Enjoy!

Chapter 5

The spell was very time consuming.

Majic sat and waited, anxious gaze flitting between his two superiors as they continued to hover over Cleao. Their voices were low, murmurings of some sort of spell. He wasn't familiar with the incantations; they were in a language he'd never heard of before.

It was strange, hearing their voices twist and curve to form words of something he couldn't understand. He focussed on listening to these strange sounds, watched their expressions for any sign of progress. Every now and then, a glint of annoyance would flash across Orphen's face, his eyes snapping open to glare at Hartia, his hands clencing into fists where they lay on Cleao's stomach. Majic took this as a sign that the spell wasn't working, and as they continued to repeat the same steady flow of actions, his heart grew tighter and tighter in his chest, his breathing becoming shallower and shallower.

Please let it work. Please...

What felt like minutes became hours, the darkness of night soon giving way to the sun's rising light. The sky slowly brightened, a red tinge spreading across its endless surface. They pressed on, their efforts seemingly to no avail.

How had this happened? Why had things changed so drastically since their arrival at this damned inn?

Majic thought back to the previous day; nothing seemed out of the ordinary to him. Aside from the seemingly friendly relationship Master and Cleao had formed. But, as odd as it was to see the two of them acting civil toward each other, Majic could accept it. He had known for a long time that both of them harboured deeper feelings for each other...But Master had always shut them out. He'd locked his heart away, in an armoured box, no doubt. As their journey brought them closer to saving Azalie, they grew closer themselves. There were chinks in his armour, and there were times when he shared part of his feelings with the others. Majic believed that Cleao was the one to draw such things out of him; Sure, she could be annoying as hell, and stubborn to boot. But she was also very compassionate. When Orphen was at his darkest, she comforted him the best she could. The first time he'd ever really opened up to them, it had been because of her.

So, yes, it was odd to see the two of them acting so...kind to one another on a daily basis, but not because they couldn't be civil. Because Orphen always broke away from their friendship, always returned to that dark, brooding mask he wore oh so well.

So what had happened to change that?

His gaze drifted between his two friends; Orphen, stone-faced, concentrated. Cleao, silent...so damn silent.

If he was ever going to get any answers, he would have to start asking for them.

"Do you want to know why you're here?"

The sudden voice startled her, snapping her out of her hopeless attempt at forming yet another escape plan.

"I don't care why I'm here," she snapped, arms folded across her chest, one foot tapping the sand impatiently. "All I care about is how to leave!"

Apparently Hartia had given up on her; She hadn't heard his voice in...well, a long time. It was hard to keep track of time here. The sun never moved from it's spot high on the horizon and she'd passed out too many times to really have any clue.

Who would've thought she'd miss Shrimp Man, of all people?

Truth be told, being stranded on an island for an extended period of time was getting her thinking. There were a lot of people she hadn't really thought about recently. A lot of people she missed.

Her mother and sister, obviously. It seemed like ages since the last time she'd even sent a letter to them. When had she seen them last? She couldn't remember.

Then there was Licorice; that girl had truly become a younger sister to her. And it had been nice to have a female companion, someone she could really open up to without feeling foolish. And, of course, there were some things that men just didn't understand.

Cleao even missed her hometown, her old school friends, her boarding school, fencing lessons…

She'd taken all of these things for granted, and now it was too late to fix it.

"There's something I want to know." She turned to face the monster, ignoring the momentary hope that always bubbled up when she saw his face.

It was looking at her curiously, Its mouth twitching slightly at the corners, as if fighting a smile.

"Oh?" It questioned, tilting Its head to the side. "And what might that be?"

"Why do you have to be so evil?" She demanded, completely serious. "Does trapping people in your makeshift dreams really make you feel better about yourself?"

At first, It just looked at her, that same expression of interest on Its face. And then It spoke.

"Evil? You would call my survival evil?" It asked. "Is a shark evil for eating another animal?" It stood quite still, eying her expectantly. "Well?"

"Sharks don't play with their food. At least they show mercy."

It snorted, shaking Its head in humorous disbelief. "And you believe that I show no mercy, is that it?"

"You've had me trapped on this island for -I don't even know how long!" She stormed, gesturing wildly around her. Long blonde tendrils of hair whipped across her face. "If you were capable of even the slightest mercy, you'd kill me and put me out of my frigging misery already!"

The Orphen-clone chuckled, ruby eyes flashing dangerously. "But you don't want do die."

"Of COURSE not!" She screamed, tears of anger pricking the corners of her eyelids. "No one in their right mind actually wants to die." She watched the clone for a moment, the rage slowly dying away, buried by the never-ended despair this place brought over her. "There's so much I haven't done yet," she sighed, "so many things I still have to say…"

The humour in Its eyes was gone now.

"Don't you see," It said, moving to stand right in front of her, "that I've saved you from a world of pain?" It reached out a hand, ignoring her violent flinch, and touched her temple. "There's so much violence, so much pain in your memories." It murmured, a faraway look in Its eyes. "Loneliness. You long for someone to understand you, love you. Someone to bring joy instead of suffering. But you have found no such person." It slowly pulled back Its hand, taking several steps back. "In this world, my world, this pain doesn't exist." It gestured widely around It, to the ocean, the sand, the endless blue sky. "Here, I can give you whatever you want. I can grant your every wish, fulfill your every desire."

"And in return, you suck out my soul." She stated, not quite as viciously as she'd intended. She was still recovering; the close contact had unnerved her. She'd thought for a moment that It might actually kill her after all.

"A bit of an extreme description, no?" It smiled, lowering Its arms. "I'm not going to suck out your soul."

"What, then? Turn my brain to jelly?"

"Really, your lack of imagination astounds me." It chuckled again, running a hand through Its hair almost lazily. "You think I'm some sort of crazed scientist, now? Quite the contrary."

It was odd, talking to a monster so calmly about her impending demise. But, somehow, it didn't seem to bother her. Unless the thing came close to her, that is.

But she did want answers. And, apparently, now was the time to ask for them.

"I don't know what you are." She stated bluntly, surprised at her own honesty.

I guess it's true what they say about kidnappers and their captives…

"Ah, you're a curious one, aren't you?" It moved closer to her, kicking up the sand with each slow step. "I have a proposition for you, then. Mutual gain."

Every sane part of her body was telling her to run, right now, and not look back. This thing had very nearly killed her several times over, not to mention the other form of assault…

But, somehow, she was drawn to It. There was something…. She couldn't quite wrap her mind around it, but she needed to know more. After all, it would probably be the last time she would ever hear Orphen's voice. Even if It wasn't really him, she couldn't pass the opportunity up. She was going to die here, either way. Why not have some form of happiness, however small or shallow, while she could?

"Alright…?" She said, though it sounded like a question. She took a small step forward before slowly lowering herself into a sitting position. She watched cautiously as the thing mirrored her movement.

It still amazed her how much like the real Orphen It was; every movement held that cocky edge Orphen had portrayed almost lazily.

"For every question of yours that I answer," It explained slowly, amber eyes sparkling in the sunlight, "you must answer one of mine. A fair trade, no?"

"...I suppose," she mumbled, distracted when a sudden gust of wind tousled Its hair, the dark tips fluttering lightly, his shirt flapping open once more.

It's shirt. It. Not him...

"Very well," It nodded, leaning back casually, giving her a nicer view of its torso. "You may go first, if you wish."

She nodded, snapping out of her momentary daze. Her head was feeling heavy, her thoughts slightly jumbled up. Clearly this place was beginning to have a more physical effect on her.

Great.

"My first question is…" she thought for a minute, trying to think of something that would reveal some important information. "What are you?"

The creature snorted, clearly unimpressed. "That's not a very original question."

She lifted her chin proudly, refusing to fall prey to more teasing. "That's my question. You can either answer it or forget about this stupid deal."

It raised an eyebrow, though the smirk still remained. "You're a fierce little thing, aren't you? Very well, if you wish for such a dull question as this to be answered. I am what is most commonly known as a Siren. Some refer to our kind as Desire Demons, which does put us in quite a better light. But, alas, beggars cannot be choosers."

She blinked.

The Siren did not move.

"...Shouldn't you have a giant fin instead of feet?" She demanded, eying It curiously.

"Ah, ah," the demon tutted, wagging its finger tauntingly. "It's my turn now."

"Damnit!" Hartia suddenly hissed, his hands flinching away from Cleao's face. He held them up and cursed, a grimace of pain shadowing his expression. "I'm getting further and further away from her," he muttered, quickly healing the burns from his fingertips. "The Siren must be deflecting the spell...That would explain the backfire."

Orphen hadn't moved; he knelt next to Cleao, his eyes frozen on her face. A darkening crease to his brow was the only evidence that he'd been listening at all.

"I'll do it," he said, moving to Hartia's original position. "We both know who the more powerful sorcerer here is."

"But Krylancelo-"

"-I can handle it just fine. Now get over here and help me."

Majic had been wondering why his master hadn't taken the lead position for the spell to begin with. Not wanting to interrupt or be a bother, he hadn't said anything. Apparently he was about to find out.

"It's too personal for you. If you go in too far…" Hartia shook his head, his hands clenching into fists. "No. I won't risk your life as well."

"Fine." He snapped, his voice cold and cruel. "Majic, take that position there." He jutted his chin toward where he'd been kneeling earlier, already beginning a spell. Majic stumbled over to his other side, numbly laying his hands on Cleao's stomach. She felt so cold, so…

No, he wouldn't say it. Couldn't.

"Are you insane?" Hartia shouted. "Do you realize the magnitude of this spell? He's just an apprentice, it could kill him-"

"-I'm not giving up." There was a raw, desperate edge to his voice. " Majic," he said, catching his eye, "if you can't handle it, step back. I'll do it alone."

For a moment, Majic wanted to give up. He wasn't strong enough, wasn't nearly as powerful as either sorcerers here. There was no way he could ever help his master now….

But instead, he shook his head. Steadied his shaking hands.

"Don't you remember?" His voice, amazingly, came out strong, without wavering. "I'm your apprentice."

The expression on Orphen's face then was hard to describe; pride and gratitude didn't quite seem to cover it. Nonetheless, Majic was sure it would be a memory he wouldn't soon forget.

"Damn straight," Orphen nodded, a small smile momentarily breaking through his serious expression.

"You're both goddamn fools," Hartia sighed. But he moved to kneel opposite Majic, clasping their hands together. "Goddamn, stupid, crazy fools. When we die, I'm gonna kill you both."

Orphen placed his hands gently on Cleao's cheeks, his eyes cast downward. Hartia took one of Majic's hands and placed it on Orphen's shoulder, doing the same himself.

"Try to channel your energy into him," he explained quietly, Orphen's murmuring already beginning. "Use as much power as you can, all right? Everything you've got."

Majic nodded, gritting his teeth together. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his task, summoning up all the power he could muster. He saw every lesson his master had taught him flash before his eyes; every spell, every incantation.

See it in your mind.

Beads of sweat trickled down his face, his hand clenched so tightly in Hartia's it went numb.

He felt it building up inside him, the power flowing through every vain, pooling from his very core into his fingertips.

There was an instant where he felt, knew, he held all the power he posessed in his own hands. He willed it with all his might in his master's direction.

And then everything went dark.

Gotta love cliffhangers...Right? *sheepish grin*