Well, as you guys have probably noticed, I've not been updating quite as often as I used to.

Originally, I tried to have a ten chapter buffer. Yes, that's right, I was writing ten chapters ahead of what I was posting. However, lately I'm down to four more chapters besides this one left. That gives me about two months before I'm completely out. Lately I've been averaging possibly one chapter a month but they've sucked really bad. You'll see how bad once those last four get posted; I hate them! The writing style just isn't up to par, the vocabulary isn't inventive enough, and as you can tell I'm a perfectionist with a low self esteem. :-D

Anyhow, because of this problem I've decided to do two things.

One: I will now post ONE CHAPTER A MONTH (yes, I know, it sucks)

Two: I will (in the meantime) work on a Gundam Wing fanfic I and my fiancée have started that I actually feel like writing.

The Slayers fic Modern Day just hasn't given me much pleasure to write lately, but I don't intend on letting Xellos and Filia lie dormant forever. They WILL get together eventually, I just need a break from Slayers fanfiction. So, here's another chapter and I'm afraid you won't see a new one for about another four weeks.

Lots of love, and if you want to read something that's also a good fanfic, go read Slayers: Duality by Crazy Elf Paladin.

That's a really funny fic (even though the jerk needs to update already)

Love ya!

Ukchana


Chapter 29

Hong Kong, China
June 8th, 2002

They came upon a small velvety black tent sitting in the center of the second story aisle, and Filia squeezed his waist as she happily read the sign. "A fortune teller!"

Wincing, Xellos shook his head. "Fortune teller?!" —Filia, why don't we just go back to the hotel room and try to predict something if you REALLY want to know your fortune,— he scoffed.

But this will be fun!— Pouting up at him, she begged, "Please?"

"Veria, it's a kiosk." He narrowed his violet eyes and glared down at the woman he held against him. "It's not even professional."

"How do you know?" his 'wife' glared back, and the demon had to sigh.

"Oh, alright." I just KNOW I'm going to regret this, Xellos told himself, but allowed her to drag him to the ominous ebony tent and through the flaps.

Once they stepped into the dark confines, the priest looked around the candle-lit shadows, eyes falling finally onto the tiny form before them, sparkling eyes gazing out from above a deep blue veil.

"Welcome, both of you," an ancient female voice came from the slight figure. A withered hand reaching out to place a jade broach upon the low lace-covered table before them. "Please, have a seat on the pillows."

Excitedly, Filia dropped onto her knees on the left cushion, folding her hands on her lap. "Come on!" she whispered back at him, azure eyes twinkling in her giddiness.

With another put-upon sigh, the Mazoku sat down to her right in the softly-lit tent. "Thank you," he said to the old woman. His eyes had adjusted rather quickly and now that he was at eye-level, he could see the long white hair flowing from under the shawl over the fortune-teller's head. Intricately designed jewelry hung from her neck, and a plethora of glass bottles and ceramic pots surrounded her, some filled with rather interesting, if unsavory, items.

"Now," the swathed figure began in her gravely voice, "I can tell you many things. About yourselves, your distant future, or what will soon happen to you."

Xellos risked a quick glance to his companion and found her looking over at him. "Well?" he asked.

"Can . . ." the dragoness blushed and dropped her gaze, "can we have all of them?"

Groaning, his gaze returned to the fortune teller's amused sable eyes. "Fine . . ."

The old woman nodded, veil brushing hazily with her movement, and raised a small hand in the candle-lit darkness. "Very well . . ."

She withdrew a small handle-less cup from the dark shadows behind her, then sprinkled some dust into it from an oyster-shell box to her left. "In the traditional Chinese method, I will read the tea-leaves to tell your fortune."

Beside him, Filia watched her intently as she poured steaming water from a kettle into the tiny cup. Swirls of heat floated up from the pretty thing, verdant flecks spinning across the water's surface.

"First I will pour a cup of tea for each of you," the fortune teller rasped, letting the tea settle, then peering deeply into it. "Hmm . . ." She quickly turned the cup three times, then looked again. "Ah . . ." Her eyes pinned Xellos, and he blinked.

"Yes?"

Narrowing her gaze, the crone laughed behind her silken veil. "It is as I sensed . . . when you stepped into this room," her voice slid roughly along the words, "the light seemed to leach into you, absorbed by the darkness of your aura as it searches for illumination."

Stunned, Xellos let his hands lay limply along his thighs, staring at the aged woman.

"The tea," continued the wizened woman, "brings up the symbol of the demon, the creature of the night."

A lick of fear trailed up him, echoed in Filia's emotions as she reached out to grasp his hand. How . . . how does she . . .

Handing Xellos' reading to him, the fortune teller said, "It is good luck to drink the tea of your fortune."

"As for you, child," she went on, facing the blonde in the darkened tent, "let us see . . ." She took another empty cup, repeating the ritual and allowing the scalding water to soak the leaves. "Now that they have settled, we shall see . . ."

She gazed into it, beady onyx eyes narrowing. "Your aura is that of a child of nature . . . instantly recognizable as you entered this place. The leaves . . . the first symbol shows change. You will begin a transformation into something." Gently, she waved the cup in the air, leaves stirring upon the water. "What will you become?"

Filia gave him a frightened glance, and he squeezed her hand firmly. —Don't worry,— he told her as he hesitantly began to sip his tea. —Calm yourself.—

With a grumbled word, the ancient lady announced, "New hope. You will become more for many, bringing hope and joy."

Finally opening her mouth, the dragoness tried, "But . . . how can you get so much from just the tea leaves?"

"I see a symbol within them in the Chinese language, and I interpret what they mean through my sensations of you." Nodding, the slight form returned to her cups of tea. "Here you go, child, drink the tea." Settling herself down, she snapped, "Alright, time for the next cup. Your present state together."

Once more, the water was poured into a glazed ceramic cup, moist heat filling the air, and she gazed within. "Ah, the symbol of duality, two opposite yet joined parts. Hmm . . ." She let the tea mix again, then closed her eyes as it settled. "Once more, we see," she looked down, "ah, and what a thing. The symbol for harmony. Very advantageous for the both of you."

Where on earth is she getting this, how can she know about us? Xellos kept himself from frowning the way he wished to and peered down at the shrouded woman. Her epiphanies are disturbingly reminiscent of Valgaav's clairvoyance.

"Now," continued the crone, "for your future . . ." A new cup rose in her hands, tea powder spinning as scalding water poured forth. Her eyes narrowed as she turned the cup, holding it up to her face. "Ah . . . two symbols, that of the dragon . . . and danger."

Filia gasped, tea sloshing over the edge of the cup raised to her lips. "You . . . you can't . . . . be serious."

Himself stunned, the General-Priest watched as the ancient human raised a gnarled hand. "I am serious. Quite serious. And thus," her voice grated harshly through the smoky air, "is your future. I'm afraid it is not the most fortuitous reading I have given. But, know this."

Uncertainly they waited, unable to even sip their tea as the fortune teller spread her hands across the table in a measured, careful pattern.

"Your auras," she began faintly, gaze on the lace cloth beneath her fingers, "are very strange. When you are apart, they are jagged, incomplete. Together," her fingers rose from the table as she moved her hands through the air, "your auras compliment each other and become smooth and calm."

Unable to restrain any further, the demon felt his hands begin to clench at his sides. I . . . I have to know who she is. The fear and shock radiating from the blonde to his left sent shivers down his spine. Oh Filia, why today? Will you believe me if I tell you I'll protect you? And . . . can I believe it myself?

How could he protect her . . . when Telgaln had three of the fragments?

Before Xellos could move, Filia was beginning to stand. "Oh . . . um, thank you for the tea. I . . . I think I need some air . . ."

She moved to leave, and he almost caught her before she pushed through the tent flaps. "Fi—Veria!" Scowling, Xellos turned back to the crone. "Where did you get that from, old woman?"

Ignoring him as he towered above her, the soothsayer began organizing her little bottles and pots. "Why don't you sit yourself back down, sonny. If you really want to know the answer to that, it may take some time."

The Mazoku clenched his teeth and returned to the pillow on the ground. "What are you going on about?"

Straightening the table cloth, she drawled, "I see you don't remember me."

His eyes slitted dangerously. ". . . should I?"

With a shake of her head, the swathed crone tisked. "I suppose it is a bit much to ask, you rarely spoke to me . . ." Lifting her hand to her face, she gently drew back the indigo shawl. "Perhaps you will recognize my face."

Xellos stared, mouth slack, at the familiar wrinkled features. "Lon? You're ALIVE?! I thought you had died!"

Smirking, the hag nodded and wiped her hands off on a little towel she pulled into her lap. "A lot of people think that . . . I have few visitors who know where to find me."

No . . . It can't be . . . "So, uh," the demon scratched his head, stalling for time, " . . . what's up?"

She laughed as she pulled a long cigarette holder from nowhere and inserted a slender cigarette into the end. "You haven't changed much . . . But do not presume to distract me." As she lit it in one of the nearby candles, she sucked at the other end, eyes never leaving his. "I know you, Yêxìng."

"Don't call me that," Xellos blurted out, staring in shock at the ancient woman. HOW? But . . . she couldn't have KNOWN.

The darkness of the room seemed to swell and deepen as her tiny sable eyes twinkled up at him. "It's been a long while since anyone has . . . hasn't it."

His nails began to cut into his palms, teeth grinding as he whispered. "How do you know this?"

She took a long drag from the cigarette holder. "Generations of women in my family have passed down the ancient stories and teachings. I have felt your kind before. And your wife's kind as well."

Xellos' eyes flickered as he rushed to figure out when she had discovered him. It's not possible, yet she knows what we are. Ridiculous, yet . . .

"As soon as Xian first brought the boy home to meet me, I could sense his power," she explained, and he shook his head sharply, as if tossing away the truth. "His inhuman soul in human flesh."

No . . . But he couldn't dismiss it, and swiftly the Mazoku absorbed the information and tried to move passed it. All this time, Xian's great-grandmother was familiar with Mazoku and Ryuuzoku . . .

"But," she continued, pouring herself a cup of tea, "You I recognized the moment I saw you."

Flinching, Xellos peered at her. "What?"

Her voice seemed to echo in the shadowed tent. "There were many legends of a creature . . . Tales of one of the most fearsome demons, hair and eyes colored as the Emperor's robes." Dark eyes glinted as they gazed into his own. "I knew when I looked upon your face . . . . felt your essence. I could sense the turmoil and chaos twisting within your soul."

The blackness absorbed all sound, and faintly he could hear the bustling crowds outside.

"I am not Yêxìng any longer," Xellos told her softly.

"But you are . . . Yet," she tapped a finger on her withered lips, "the dark deeds of your past do not blacken your soul the way they once did. I can feel within you the great capacity for benevolence."

How does my life get so complicated? he grumbled to himself, straightening. "Okay, so why have you kept me here, Lon?"

Glaring at him nonchalantly, she began rummaging in her pockets. Finally, she pulled out a sparkling trinket and held it up to him; a dull sheen glinted off the deep gold of the miniature Chinese dragon.

"This," her ancient voice rasped, "is the dragon. Wise; temperate; terrifying. Keep this close to you . . . it will protect you from a darkness beyond that which you dwell within."

Xellos grimaced uncertainly at the small necklace as she held it out to him. "Um . . . are you sure?" He took the bauble and studied it. "I mean . . . it's not magical, I can't feel a thing from it."

Cackling, she shook her head, long white hair trailing behind her. "Just keep it on you wherever you may go. Some magic cannot be seen by even the most powerful of creatures." Dropping her head, she began humming and turned her back on him, organizing her bottles of powders once more.

"Um, okay," Xellos said, standing up. "I . . . guess I'll be going then."

"Wait," she said as he turned away.

"Ohhh," he rolled his eyes and snapped, "what?!"

With a deep laugh, the old woman added, "You forgot to pay."

The demon blinked, then flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh. Right."

(-(-(-)-)-)

"Hello, Iyzeka."

Iyzeka blinked and opened her eyes, and found herself at a round table covered with white linen. All around was darkness, littered with freckles of stars glittering in the distance. "Hello?" Why am I here? The stars are pretty! I wonder how they got the tablecloth so clean?

"You're very logical, and yet so emotional," the soft voice spoke again, and suddenly there was a burning fire sitting across from her, flickering and glowing hot with golden flames.

The tiny demoness blinked, in awe but unafraid. For some reason, the burning voice gave her a tranquility and calm she hardly ever felt. "Yes. I suppose so. Does it hurt, burning? Why are you yellow and not blue? What are you, anyway?"

The fire chuckled, then a fiery arm complete with a slender hand emerged from the flames to pick up a teacup, which remained unaffected by the heatless conflagration. "And so curious, as well. No, it does not hurt, and I am yellow because I choose to be. What I am . . . cannot be explained."

"Oh." Frowning slightly, the redhead watched a cup appear before herself, then picked it up. "Why am I here?"

"I wanted to see you," the voice became faint and sad, and a fountain of wistfulness poured over the demoness. "The only untainted electro-magnetic entity."

"Untainted?" The tea slid down her throat warmly, the spicy liquid filling her form with a sleepy satisfaction.

"Yes. Of course, you cannot remain so for very long." For a moment, the voice seemed female, then flickered back into androgyny. "Do not worry yourself. Just remain however feels most comfortable and natural."

"What do you mean?" Iyzeka questioned, confusion warring with a frustration that caused her fingers to tighten around the teacup. "Why would I change? What would change? What do you mean, untainted?"

"I have to go, now," spoke the flame sadly. "Do not worry."

"No!" Iyzeka demanded, then opened her eyes to find she was clutching Valgaav still.

"Wha?" The young man opened his eyes and blinked, then yawned loudly, covering his mouth. "Are you okay?"

Blushing, she nodded. "Yeah, I guess." Funny dream . . . oh well!

(-(-(-)-)-)

The buzz and flow of the crowds seemed to wrap around his mind, enveloping him in a haze of peace.

Kendar had not moved from his spot, clutched against himself along the wall and unseen by human eyes. A strange numbness had settled across him, and the brown-haired Mazoku could only stare at his shoes and breathe.

How could I have not sensed him before? They must be wearing power-shields, as I am. He shivered again, thanking the Lord of Nightmares almost convulsively that he had been given such a strong amulet.

I . . . I can't tell Telgaln about what I've found, a part of him tried, and the rest of him tiredly agreed. No . . . no matter what . . .

Yet, what would Telgaln do? If he discovered him . . .

The slight man shivered and pulled himself tighter. I . . . I mustn't help him . . . I know that Telgaln is . . . His mind tried to wrap itself around the concept, but it was so alien . . .

Mazoku are evil . . . but . . . Telgaln seems . . .

. . . MORE evil . . .

"Val . . ."

He gazed out of the window from where he sat on the floor, eyes on the gradually slowing rainstorm. His shoulders slumped forward as he followed the path of the droplets, a shower becoming a drizzle as he watched. "Yes?"

A light, tentative weight settled upon his arm, slender fingers pressing through his t-shirt. "Val . . . what . . . what made you so upset before?"

Shaking his head, Valgaav glanced up at her and held her green gaze for a moment before turning away. "I . . . I can't tell you."

There was a pause, then he felt the hand slowly drop. "Oh . . . okay."

With a grimace, he turned to peer up at her. "It's not like that."

Iyzeka sat down on the bed again, wringing her hands as she glared at her bare feet swinging below her. "Then what is it?"

He shook his aqua head, chin falling once more. Pulling one knee up to wrap his lanky arms around it, he muttered, "It's . . . just something from my past . . . that jumped up and bit me."

I can't tell her the truth . . . not like this, Val sighed, eyes narrowing painfully.

The girl rose and leisurely stepped towards him, feet padding on the pale gray carpet. "Val . . . I wish you could talk to me." Giving him a weak smile, the short-haired Mazoku hesitantly placed her arms around him. "Don't be sad."

She ran her fingers through his hair and pressed his nose against her ample chest, and somehow it felt more comforting than threatening, though the velveteen tickled his nose. Hands clenching, Val swallowed and tried to speak, but found his voice trapped within his grief . . .

"I won't tell anyone," her melodic words flowed over him. "I just . . ." The redhead shook with a quiet sob, grip around him tightening. "I just don't want you to be sad."

Valgaav breathed in the aroma of lilacs as he fought to not cry against her bosom. His arms raised involuntarily to grasp at her waist, tears suddenly pouring down his face. Squeezing his eyes shut, he wept in her arms, thoughts jagged with pain.

—Tell me . . .— the demoness asked tenderly. —I know it will make you feel better. —

Val shook his head, but he couldn't help the words from bubbling up within him. —I, I don't know how to say it . . . she was there, and it was only a few years ago and she's already old and gray and- —

—The woman,— Iyzeka guessed, rubbing his back gently as he sobbed. —You knew her.—

—I . . .—

The young dragon's cries rose in anguish. —I loved her.—

(-(-(-)-)-)

"Veria?"

The blonde jumped as she spun to stare at him, then sighed and sagged on the bench. "Oh. Sorry."

"I know . . ." Xellos sighed as well, leaning a hand on the back of the seat and dropping his head thoughtfully. Peering through his violet bangs he continued, "It was pretty disconcerting."

With a nod, Filia frowned at the milling people passing them along the mall corridor. "What took so long, why were you in there?"

"She . . . she wanted to talk to me," the demon admitted, feeling the unsettling weakness beginning again in his limbs. "Let me sit down too, will you?" he asked, walking around to face her.

The dragoness pulled some of the shopping bags onto the floor to clear him a spot, her large azure eyes following him as he sat down next to her. "What did she talk to you about?"

Xellos closed his eyes and draped himself against the bench, resting his head along the back. "Some mystic crap. And she gave me a necklace, said it would ward against evil." He looked over to find her glaring at him with an unamused quirk to her lips, and he chuckled slightly. "Yeah, I know. Me, need protection from evil?"

Brows rising, Filia shook her head and shrugged with a grandiose air. "Whatever. So, now what should we do?"

He closed his eyes again; it felt as if gravity had doubled. "I donno'. Wanna' go to an opera?"

The sound of her melodic voice played over his frayed nerves. "I thought you needed reservations at least a month in advance?"

With a loose shrug, Xellos yawned and pulled out his cell' phone from his pocket. Flipping it open, he pressed a few buttons without opening his eyes and held it to his ear.

"Operator," the British-accented voice of a woman returned.

"Yes," he replied into the phone, smiling at Filia's growing curiosity. "I believe the Lín Lí Jin Opera is still there, correct?"
"Yes Sir. Do you need their number?"

"Yes, thank you, if you could connect me as well."

Shifting, the saffron-haired woman to his right murmured, "Um . . . what are you doing?"

Xellos raised a finger, beaming with closed eyes as he waited. "I'm getting us tickets for the opera, darling." A sigh escaped him as he drooped further on the bench.

"But . . . it's only a few hours until sunset, the only thing we could get tickets for is a movie."

The violet-haired man tossed his head back and forth, then perked up as the call was answered.

"Good afternoon, Lín Lí Jin Opera House. How can I help you?"

"When is the opera tonight?"

"Six o'clock, Sir."

"Wonderful. I want two tickets for tonight with a private booth, how much will that be?"

The man hesitated, then replied, "I'm afraid we're always sold out two months before said performances. For a private booth, that will come to three thousand dollars. Our earliest performance available is for August tenth, would you like to make a reservation for that night?"

Frowning, the General-Priest tapped his free hand along the wood of the seat. "Are you the manager of the house?"

"Yes, sir. I am."

"Alright . . . how much would I have to give you for two seats in a private booth for tonight's opera?"

With a laugh, the manager said, "Sir, I cannot force previously paying customers from their reserved seats—"

Xellos' pale mouth tightened. "How much."

He could sense the waves of amused frustration over the phone-line. "Nothing short of a million dollars could make me do that, Sir."

Beaming suddenly, the Mazoku put his free hand behind his neck and leaned his head back against the bench. "Then we have a deal."

"WHAT?"

"One million dollars. Would you like my credit card number? Let's see, it's a Platinum Gold card . . ." The manager was silent, so he asked, "Sir?"

No answer returned, and he opened his eyes to stare at the phone, then chuckled as he heard many worried conversations on the other end of the phone line. "Hello?"

"S-Sir . . . yes, I apologize," the man gasped. "I . . . give me a moment to speak to the owner of the Opera House."

The demon winked an amethyst eye at his stunned companion and giggled. "No problem. Just make sure you come to a decision before six o'clock tonight."

(-(-(-)-)-)

"Whaaaaaahhhhhh!!" Iyzeka's wails of anguish rose high in the bedroom as Val winced before her.

"No, don't cry, it's okay! It's just an old girlfriend, I'm fine! Really!"

"B-but, you loved her and now she's—" the demoness broke down into keening sobs again, clutching her cheeks as tears poured from her eyes.

Squeezing his golden eyes shut, Valgaav knelt on the bed and waved his hands in front of him. "Don't cry, don't cry! Please? Come on, it's okay now. I feel better!" —Telling you how I felt made me feel a lot better, please don't cry any more!—

"I just feel so BAD for you, I don't want you to be sad!" she sobbed, suddenly grabbing his t-shirt and rubbing her eyes on the fabric.

"Well," he stressed, rolling his eyes, "I'm NOT anymore!" Sighing as her weeping intensified, the dragon added softly, "It's okay, it's not you. I'm happier now, because you helped me."

She lifted her magenta head and blinked. "Really?"

"Really."

Sniffing, Iyzeka wiped her nose on her sleeve. "That's good. I'm glad you're better."

"Great," he sighed in relief and fell back onto the bed heavily. "Glad that we got that taken care of."

Following his example, the slight demoness lay down next to him and plopped herself across his chest. "Now what do we do? Um . . . Val?"

Stuttering from his place on the bed, the boy swallowed and looked up at the girl on top of him. "Uh . . . I donno'."

"Hmmm!!" With a joyful smile, the redhead slung her arms around him and held him tight, one foot dangling off the bed edge. "This is fun, let's just do this!"

His tawny eyes widened and he squeaked, "Okay!"

(-(-(-)-)-)

Kendar found the couple outside the mall, hailing a horse-drawn carriage in the rainless, clearing skies of mid-afternoon.

Gaze hungrily falling across the blonde woman, he followed them like a shade, pacing the carriage with conflicting emotions of both fear and desire. What fate could have given him this torment? For the woman who pierced the emptiness inside of him seemed inexorably entwined with the most dangerous Mazoku alive, barring the Hellmaster herself . . .

I can't seem to find my way anymore, he mused as his steel eyes ran along her slender jaw-line and slid down her nubile form. This new era is too modern for the Monster Race . . .

He rested upon the back of the carriage in between planes and watched the fair dragoness intently. And here I am, lusting after a child of the gods, a dragon. This is why, his glance flickered over to the man beside her for a moment, everyone believed Xellos had gone soft. Well, he obviously wants her as well . . . but I would not want to be the one to tell him that he has become weak.

No, he shivered, a cold chill of terror sliding down his back, that would be the worst thing I could do.

(-(-(-)-)-)

Giggling, Iyzeka leaned onto Valgaav further, rubbing her bobbed head against his chest. "You smell nice," she purred, closing her eyes and sighing heavily. His nervousness and growing desire flowed rapidly over her, smooth and tumbling, tasting of intricate subtleties no human would ever experience. But making him nervous is mean . . . hmm.

She frowned slightly, and looked up at him, only to have him wince. "Val . . ." the demoness whispered faintly, "why are you so nervous?"—You've been around girls before, if you dated that woman, right?—

—I have,— he nodded slightly, saffron eyes wincing, —but . . . none of them were as forward as you, and . . . well, I'm not that forward, either.—

His increased agitation made it difficult for her to relax, since his emotions flowed through her mind easily. —Calm down,— she grinned, moving against him as his fear slowly began to spark a predatory lust within her. —I'm not that dangerous.—

Looking up into his nervous eyes, she ran her fingers down his cheek, reveling in the feel of him. He's so beautiful, inside and out. Smiling, she began kissing his jaw-line. "I've never known anyone like you, Val," she admitted, and his fluctuating emotions rolled over her in waves. "You're so peaceful and caring of others, and yet, so sad all the time."

"I'm not that sad," he quaked as she ran a hand through his spiky hair.

"I want to see you smile and laugh," she whispered, and bent to kiss his mouth. "Maybe I can make you happy."