Hey there! Time for a new chapter. And time for more reviews to be acknowledged.
Mystical-Maiden: Lol, after all of this, you doubt that they'll get together? I'm glad you found this fanfic too, lol. Hope you keep reading!
Mwafwa: I'm glad you still find Iyzeka cute. You're not nuts! She does forget, but there's a good reason, lol.
BeasMaster Zelas: Well, it's not really a song fic. It just happens to have some music in it. Kinda like driving in your car when you turn the radio on, lol. And yes, Iyzeka is acting unique! Such a sheltered little demon, now to find herself out in the real world . .. so sad.
Hey, Grace! It's okay, I admit to thinking that you thought he was ooc. Sorry! I don't like the way he's acting either. He's a jerk, right? LOL Well, he's worse in this chapter.
There is more with Iyzeka in this chapter. As to the wretched conditions of the workers, I wish I could have described it more, but I felt that a separate scene with them might be confusing (because how would the readers know it was the same warehouse?) and if I took too much time describing it for Val and Iyzeka, then the timing would be off.
Actually, "normal" humans with magical powers can sense auras, they just have to be strong. And Mu Tsu and Ku Lon are both from Ranma 1/2. It's okay if you miss details, too, you actually find more than most people!
Inverse-chan: yep, not much else to do. LOL, you see through my plots so easily! But, no, everything will not be resolved quite yet. As Dicken might say, "The game's not all played out yet".
MDF: Xellos is sure as hell gonna get mad! Glad you weren't offended that Xellos is under the impression that Jesus was a girl.
YueMichiruNaragisawaMiko: you guys have a long name. That's good that you're learning how to write better! (Claps) I'm very proud of you, keep up the good work! Yes, I like the crazy-hyper-yet-evil-and- kind-at-the-same-time Iyzeka. I'm not sure why . . .
San: there is definitely not only lust. After all, Xellos and Filia are now best friends. So they really like each other. (and I am thinking of you . . . I'm also thinking of how there are a million other fanfics getting them together right away! LOL! So I think that many fans might welcome a different kind of romance between Xellos and Filia. Anyhow, it would be very psychologically unhealthy if they got together now.)
SithKnight-Galen: Wow, Mister Sith, you're making my novel out to be of "King Arthur" magnitude. Ironic, seeing what Wolfpack Island really is. LOL! Your review was one of my favorites, and I really enjoyed reading it.
Aundy . . . well, he's not quite as you might think, but you'll see more in this chapter. They are rather nice guys, aren't they? For being in the "Circus", lol.
Offhand, Galen my dear, you wouldn't believe (or maybe you would) how much fun it is to play Xellos as a force-wielding character in an RPG. He doesn't become a sith because while he lives with rage rolling through him at every moment of his life, he's completely in control. (And from what I've learned, Sith are supposed to lose that control often enough to slaughter random people just out of pure frustration.)
But as to him in my story, I LOVE YOU, Galen! You have totally seen why, when Xellos gets drunk, the ONLY thing that could possibly change is his control of his emotions. After all, since he's not really human, he wouldn't have any bodily control TO fall apart, once he gets his magic back. And mental and physical are both corporeal things. Neither his brain nor his body would have troubles, so his emotions must.
Xellos has other problems too, however, than just being drunk. He is, basically, losing it. I had hoped that all of the emotional displays by him and how he's losing control of the mission objective might be a hint to my readers of this, but I'm not sure (as few people have mentioned it). In this chapter, we see a bit more of this – well, quite a bit. You are probably the first person to truly, firmly bring up the point that Xellos is "holding it together". The perfect way to describe it, actually. LOL! Being someone dealing with brainwashing, being a social outcast from his people, discovering his own abilities to have emotion, and now saving the world, we're lucky he's not locked in a rubber room on Wolfpack Island…
As to those annoying fanfics, I have to say that yes, while at her youthful age of probably about 700, Filia was (at the end of the series) still pretty immature, those writers ignore the characterization of Xellos and don't see how twisted he is. He, literally, is not FIT for a relationship at that time. BTW, Galen, if you are curious as to what my take on a true relationship between X/F would have been like if it started a mere year or two after the series Try, go read "Slayers:Duality" by Crazy Elf Paladin. It's a very good fanfic, but it shows how screwed up both of them are. They wouldn't be likely to have a normal relationship anytime soon.
It is age that helps Filia become more grown up. For example, she dresses differently. Not so much pink and frills. She is more likely to listen and is more compassionate even than how compassionate she was in Try.
I wish I could make this into a novel, I really do. But unfortunately, they haven't started making novels published in the US based on Slayers yet. Maybe they will soon, but Gundam Wing is more popular and they don't have novels.
Kendar? Get to talk to Luna? Hmmm . . . Maybe, but wouldn't that be cheating? God doesn't cheat . . . or does she? BWA HA HA HA . . . . ahem.
NatsuRuby: Wow, 2 days? I can't even do that! Yeah, damn Xellos ticks me off. When he's drunk he's like . . .well, you'll see. I'm sure everyone will come to the same conclusion. As to grave danger: I'm always out to please the readers! (smile)
Cooking Spray: Hey! What's up! wow, I never got any of your emails! I'm so sorry, that sucks! It was great to get your review! Glad you liked Iyzeka's souvenir, few people if any noticed that. LOL. Did you notice what it caused? I'm interested in the fact that you don't seem to be making any assumptions about who Jessica is. Good for you. As to voices, yeah, the other guy sucks at Xellos, and I personally think that his voice should be annoying. After all that's his job, right? And who thinks some guy with a nasal voice and little visible muscle mass would be a demon? LOL. Not many. I never watched Yugiou, to be quite honest. So I have no idea.
Blueramza: Thanks for the review, hope you keep coming back!
All done, onto the fic!
PLEASE REVIEW! Even if you've reviewed before, PLEASE REVIEW AGAIN!
Chapter 40
Hong Kong,
China
June 9th, 2002
The bottle, almost empty, sat between them on the table, the violet-haired man
working on his fourth glass of Absolute.
Rykker raised a brow at him as he sipped from his third martini, and commented,
"Well, everything you've been telling me has been quite interesting . . .
though I find it hard to believe, since you hardly look a day over thirty, my
friend."
Xellos shrugged, tossing back the last of the vodka in his glass. "Well,
you want proof, I suppose," he smiled, and once again the unnerving sight
of his gleaming teeth sent a chill down Rykker's spine.
"That would be nice," replied the aged mercenary,
straightening in his chair. He has to be insane to think that he's
been alive for over one-thousand years . . . though, if he IS crazy, then he's
certainly not our target.
The violet-locked man began to lean back in his chair, when suddenly his smile
fell, and he sat up to glare into the shadowed glass doors of the suite.
"What's wrong?" Rykker asked, wondering wearily if he would have to fight the unstable man before him.
Hissing, Xellos set down the martini glass with barely contained violence and turned his passion-charged gaze back to the mercenary. "Filia . . . is being hit-on." Rykker jerked back at the animalistic fury that burned coldly within those purple orbs. "By some . . . suave bastard." The younger man's fists clenched, and he rose to stare across the porch at the people behind the glass doors.
"But," Rykker blinked, standing as well, "how do you know?"
"I can feel it," his nasal voice retorted, and he began to slowly stalk towards the doors. "Her embarrassment, her pleasure at his attentions," he spat, reaching the door and grabbing the handle with his bloodied hand.
Sighing, the older gentleman followed him, wincing as Xellos entered the maelstrom of music and sound. "It's just like being around Caine," he muttered to himself with more than a bit of restless frustration. "I'm going back into the party," the mercenary spoke into the tiny microphone on his lapel as he caught the door before it closed again, his eyes falling to the crimson smear along the handle. "My new friend could be starting quite the commotion very soon."
"Alright, old friend. Be careful . . . he sounds like quite the
character, from how you've been answering him."
Narrowing his ice-blue eyes, Rykker peered over the stormy room full of people,
searching for his new associate. "As far as I can tell, he's a completely
insane sociopath," he saw a flash of violet and pushed through, "with
megalomania and a superiority complex who believes himself to be immortal and
empathic."
He slipped past one couple after another, and smirked as Stedman muttered with
amusement into his ear, "But besides that, not such a bad chap?"
"No, not so bad, I suppose." With a sigh, Rykker stepped up
behind Xellos, where the crazed individual stood a few yards from his blonde
companion, glaring at the man chatting with her and seething in rage.
—
Filia blushed as Aundy placed his hands on her hips from behind her. "Just relax," he told her, "and roll them like this." His fingers moved her hips in a provocative way, rotating with the music. "See, you are a natural."
The music surrounding them echoed through her head, the pulse beating in her veins. The human's hands on her body, his sweet, low voice in her ears, all sent a trill of heat along her. Flushed, she did as he said, and he pulled away to watch her move.
"Good," the Chilean beamed, eyes studying her. "Let the music move your body. You have danced before, yes?"
Closing her eyes, the dragoness nodded, her lips parting as her shoulders began twining with the music, hips curving.
"Now," Aundy spoke, and she blinked and stopped, suddenly embarrassed, "Oh, no, do not be ashamed," he smiled at her and stepped closer. "Now," his rich chocolate eyes gazed down at her, "to sway them from side to side. Dancing to this music is all in the hips, the support of your body. A woman's body is bonded together by these bones," he said, dropping his hands to grab onto the side of her hips again. "They have so many meanings throughout history, throughout the world," his richly accented voice undulated over her, giving her shivers. "They portray power, virility, and motherhood."
Filia glanced behind and up at him, cheeks a bright rose. "Really?" she breathed, enraptured by his deep gaze.
"Now that's," a cold, familiar voice interrupted sharply, "quite enough."
Turning, the blonde's mouth fell open as she watched Xellos approach from the crowd, steps languid and vaguely threatening. "Xellos."
His head bowed, he ignored her, eyes hidden behind the thick curtain of his violet hair. Slowly, he walked past her, until he stood directly before Aundy. The Latino man's brown eyes widened as the slightly shorter demon smirked up at him, and the tall human spoke quickly, "Excuse me, but the lady and I were in the middle of something. It's really none of your business."
One corner of the Mazoku's mouth rose in a cruel sneer, and his hands rose from the fists at his side to open in a undulating shrug. "Oh, really? This . . . lady . . . happens to be . . ." the faux smile fell as he bared fangs, ". . . MY WIFE!"
At his roar, the dancers nearby backed away and fell silent, the music even louder over the suddenness of the quiet.
"Now," Xellos continued, pointed teeth clenched and words tight and slightly hissing, "don't you think you should leave?"
In shock, Filia tried to speak, then grabbed the black-clad priest's arm. "Xellos, stop it!" she demanded, gasping as he spun his murderous gaze to her. "Please."
He raised his uninjured left hand to gently brush along her jaw, murmuring tenderly with a voice that shook in rage, "Filia." Then the dragoness found her chin held firmly between his fingers, just on the edge of pain. "You gallivant around behind my back with this . . . this libertine," he laughed sharply, icy amethyst eyes cutting into her own, "and you expect me to just sit and allow this betrayal?"
Aundy's form suddenly broke them apart as he grabbed Xellos' arm and yanked him back. "How dare you touch a woman in such a way!" he growled at the Mazoku.
A glitter of his purple eyes, and in an instant, Xellos' bloodied hand was wrapped around the tall human's throat, holding him inches off the ground. "Don't . . . test me, Human," he spat, then began to chuckle manically as the Chilean man grabbed at the slick fingers tightening around his esophagus, features turning from salmon to a sickly mauve.
Stunned, Filia tossed her head back quickly and leapt onto the demon's arm, tears instantly flooding her eyes. "NO!" she begged, and the sound of the laughter and Aundy struggling to breathe seemed to drown out the uproarious music, "Let him go, Xellos!" She shook his forearm with all her might, but he remained immovable.
"I refuse to let him take you from me," the General Priest spoke in a low, deceptively calm-sounding tone. "No one will take you from me, Filia."
The dragoness watched, helplessly weeping, as the Mazoku's grip tightened around Aundy's throat, the crowd around them hushed in abject horror.
However, to Filia's surprise, just then the older man Xellos had been sitting with approached, head bowed. "Xellos," he spoke serenely, a slight Southern twang to his deep voice, "why not let him go and spend some time with your wife, instead of scaring her. Hmm?" A pause, and he seemed to be studying Xellos as the demon considered his words. "You don't want to murder someone in front of this lovely young woman whom you love so much. Do you?"
For a second, no answer returned, then, unhurriedly, Xellos lowered his arm, fingers leisurely unclenching from around Aundy's throat. As the Latino dropped to the carpet, gasping for air, they could see the bloody fingerprints along his neck.
As Filia started forward to help him, the Mazoku grabbed her shoulders, halting her abruptly. "No," the General-Priest hissed into her ear. "You won't be giving him ANY aid, my dear."
Sobbing with relief that no one had died, the fair-haired woman gazed up at the elderly gentleman and whispered, "Thank you."
Xellos' cold gaze turned onto the older man then, and one arm wrapped domineeringly around the Golden Dragon's shoulders. "Very brave of you. Rykker . . . this is my . . . wife . . ." for a moment, the demon blinked, then his head twitched oddly and he smiled, "Filia. Filia, this is Rykker."
Beaming, the Mazoku waved a hand towards the other man. "Go on, dear, shake his hand. Be polite."
Blackness enveloped the land, twinkling city lights breaking the darkness with warm, glittering brilliance.
As he sprinted over the rooftops, Valgaav frowned with regret. He wished that he could take the time to enjoy the beauty of the city before him, uncertain that he would have the chance to see it ever again.
"Val," Iyzeka's sweet and dulcet voice interrupted his musings, "how far away are we?"
Still jogging slowly across the buildings, the dragon shook his head, then said, "Hold on," and began to sprint for the edge of one rooftop. Reaching the lip, he launched them upwards and across a wide street towards the opposing building, the wind rushing around them as they soared into the air. With a soft clatter, Valgaav landed lightly on the other side, having vaulted fifty feet through the air.
"That was fun," the girl snuggled into his chest, rubbing against him happily.
With a flush, the aqua-haired teen continued to sprint across the shadowed roofs, nodding. "Um, anyway," he blinked shyly, "I think we're about five more blocks away. Maybe more. We should get there soon. Oh, and where did you put the stone fragment?"
Holding out her hand, she beamed a cheery smile in the stygian night, and suddenly the rock appeared in her palm. "A secret place. No one can steal it there."
Suddenly, with a liquid shimmering sound from all around them, they were surrounded by blackness; dark, rayless shrouds that drifted, specter-like, in the night air, forcing the children to halt. With these phantasms, a hissing, shifting sonance began to crackle and stir around them.
"Shit," the Ancient Dragon laughed sharply, saffron eyes wide and frightened. "Get down, Iyzeka," he told her, and dropped her quickly.
Landing on her feet, the maroon-haired child stared in awe at the beasts all around them. "What . . . what do we do?"
"Fight them," Val flashed his fangs and raised his hands into the air. "The jig is up, I guess. Wish Xel had taught me more spells . . ."
With a flick of her wrist, the stone disappeared from Iyzeka's hand once more, and she snarled at the wraiths. "Okay. Whatever kind of excuses for Mazoku you guys think you are, you're gonna regret attacking us!" she cried in her child-like voice.
As if on cue, the creatures began to spin around them, blending into the light-less night almost completely. A moaning whirr began to sound everywhere, and Val's teeth clenched. "Nothing for it, then. Iyzeka," he paused dramatically, "I don't think we can beat them."
"WHAT?" she stumbled, then turned to glare at him. "We can at least try. I'm not even sure what they are, but I KNOW I can beat them!"
Grabbing her up like a rag-doll, the tall dragon said, "Not all two dozen of them!" and just as the revenants converged upon them, the teens vanished—
Appearing a few buildings closer to the hotel – and the wraiths phased in right on top of them. "DAMMIT!" Val dropped the demoness once more, then stomped his foot. "Why can't they-" Forced to leap out of the way as one black shade swept towards him, Valgaav rolled to his feet, pulling energy into his hands. "IYZEKA," he warned, but glancing around himself, his vision seemed totally obscured by flashing, flickering specters, and he could not find the girl.
Dark energy spun everywhere, and the teal-tressed dragon grunted as it sliced into him, rivulets of blood appearing at some of the harder blows. "Well, I'm not that easy," his low baritone voice informed them, and he felt his restraint slipping as anger welled beneath the surface. "I've learned a few spells . . . I know exactly how to deal with demon-spawn! Iyzeka, I hope you KNOW HOW TO DUCK!"
Raising his hands towards the chaotic mass of midnight, he roared, "CHAOTIC DISINTEGRATE!"
—
Head bowed, Kendar reinforced the invisible shield around the battle, raising
his hand to it and grimacing. Please, let them somehow beat the
Wraiths and inform Xellos in time.
He watched in sorrow as the holy magic met the darkness of his shield, and each
cancelled the other out. They'll never be able to sense the battle, the dung-colored demon sighed and formed another magic-absorbing shield around
them, straining to once more create such a complicated matrix. At this
rate, Telgaln's plan will not fail. There must be a way that Xellos can
win, he told himself firmly, but his gray eyes winced in doubt. But
how?
Before he could consider it further, the painful sensation of his master's
voice in his mind began. —Kendar, I can tell that they have been phasing.—
— Yes, My Lord, they have.— The dull-colored demon winced, knowing what he was to do next.
— Create the field, then, Kendar. Do I have to monitor every step of your mission for you!— the voice practically screamed.
--No, Your Highness. I will do it at once.--
"It's . . . nice to meet you," Filia spoke nervously as she held out her hand to Rykker. "You seem to be getting along well with Xellos." Being that he's a lunatic and all, the dragoness continued silently.
The gentleman took her hand and carefully squeezed it once, then let go. "He's quite the interesting individual," he seemed to agree with her thoughts. Gracing the demon with a glance, the elderly man added, "Perhaps you two should spend a bit of time together. I'll be just around the corner, should either of you feel like chatting."
Xellos' dark violet eyes burned into the Southerner as he leisurely walked away, the stunned party-goers around them hesitantly returning to their festivities. "A charmer, isn't he?" he nasal voice purred as he spun to glare down at Filia intensely.
"You," her words shook as she ran a tremulous hand through her cornhusk hair, "you can't believe that I would be interested in him as well."
"I guess," the demon moved closer to stand over her, and in one sudden movement grabbed her around the waist, "I'm something of a jealous 'man'." One pallid hand rose to lightly brush against her cheek and jaw, slipping down to inevitably draw away, then fell to join his other hand on her back.
Finding herself pressed tightly against her "husband", the Golden Dragon gaped, mouth opening and closing like a carp. "I . . . but . . ." Glaring down at where he held her, she blinked to find that the soiled cloth was gone from his hands, skin clean and pale and smooth again. "Your hand . . . you . . ."
"Reformed it, darling," he murmured, flashing her a smile. "I didn't want to get blood all over you, after all. Quite messy."
The next song sprang into being around them as she stared into his sultry eyes,
a swiftly darting waltz with the glint and thrum of guitars.
Jarred by the sudden sound of harsh electric strings, Filia blinked as a wicked
smile broke out across the Mazoku's ashen features. He snapped up her right
hand with his and pulled her into a spin as she gasped in dismay.
"Ah, one of the few modern waltzes," he informed her as she
tentatively placed her left hand onto his shoulder. "More of a
six-four time than three-four, really."
They began to waltz furiously, Filia breathing hard as they spun and twined
around the room at an exhausting pace. Xellos' purple eyes, fiery as they
gazed down into her own, seemed to peer deeply within her, paring away any
defenses. "Xellos," she gasped as they twirled through the
shimmering colored lights of the makeshift dance floor, the mass of humans
watching them dance in surprise and awe.
"Do you remember," he beamed, not one hair out of place as his
eyes closed and he whirled the blonde in place, then pulled her close and
continued their revolutions, "when we danced at Lina's wedding like
this?"
"Yes," she spoke, keeping up with him but disturbingly distracted by
the unearthly glint within his voluminous amethyst pupils. "You did the
same thing then; took me into your arms against my will," she growled low
as he pulled her into another spin, once again ignoring the box-steps,
"and began wiping the floor with me."
"Oh, no," the demon smirked, arm clenching more firmly around her
waist, "that would suggest that it was a competition between the two of
us, my dear. It would be more accurate to say," he twirled her into
then out of a corner, "that we completely outdid all the other dancers,
including the royalty from Zoana. Not that doing so would have been a difficulty."
"Xellos . . ." Holding his hand tightly, Filia sighed, a timid smile
making its way onto her face. "I guess you're right. But you
were the real dancer . . ." her cheeks reddened and she chuckled up at
him. "You always have been."
They spun and twirled in the thick beat, silence between them and their hungry gazes devouring one another as they stared into each other's eyes. "Filia," Xellos finally spoke, and his chin dropped, pale lips parting. "Dancing holds no passion without you."
The dragoness lifted her head, reaching up to him as they spiraled through the
full, luscious sound . . .
. . . and their mouths joined, all awareness of their surroundings falling away
as each moved in harmony with the other.
Wolfpack
Island
June 9th, 2002
Gazing up at the velvet, ebony sky, Zelas sipped her mauve-drenched wine and studied the stars that beckoned so invitingly. "Oh, Xellos, are you taking care of Iyzeka?" Sighing, she curled a lock of rose-hued hair around her finger and leaned on the railing of the balcony, the ebony wrought-iron blending into the darkness beyond. "My children . . ."
The dream flickered within her mind, and she smiled, blinking as her eyes began
to water. Luna . . . The sweet stars above her glistened
within the blackness, like a great curtain draped across her island. Watch
out for them, please. Bring my darlings back to me.
Pouring herself another glass of wine, she sighed and shook her bubble-gum
colored head, materializing her long cigarette-holder within her hand.
"If only the shield could be lowered . . . but even a moment of scrying
isn't worth the risk." No way to find out . . . they could all be
dead, and the shield's power is blocking our link . . .
Overwhelmed with worry, the Mazoku downed the plum-tinted liquor and hurriedly
poured another. "Please, Lady Mother . . . Mistress Lina . . .
Master Yeshua . . . Luna, my love . . . guide my children back to
me." The cigarette instantly lit in her hand and she took a quick,
nervous drag, blowing out the smoke only to gulp down her wine.
Oh, Lady, Mother of All . . . could this be the end? The Apocalypse?
For surely this Telgaln could be none other than the False Prophet . . . If
Shabranigdo is resurrected within him, then . . .
Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself and sank down deeply into her
drunkenness, her cigarette quivering between her fingers.
The End of Days . . . And if so, what will become of us?
Overwhelmingly terrified for the first time in her ancient life, Zelas
attempted to drown her fears within the heady warmth and bitterness of her
favorite poisons.
Do you listen to one such as I, Mother? I don't understand, anymore .
. . if you are God, do you love me? But if you are, then . . . how COULD
you love me?
I am the Regent of the Deceiver, the Ruby-Eyed Destroyer. Created by
him . . . But how can that be, if he was once Lucifer the Archangel? How could a mere angel,
even one gifted so much power, create a new race of creatures? And yet,
we are of him . . . Satan's children . . .
It remained too incomprehensible . . . what she knew could not fit with the
words given to the human prophets . . .
. . . So Zelas ensconced herself within her vices . . . a demon praying to a god.
Hong Kong, China
June 9th, 2002
Lon lighted upon a towering skyscraper and gazed down at the city blanketed with glittering lights. "There," she pointed her staff, and the four behind her peered beyond her arm to the expansive hotel below and across the main street. "It is worse than I had anticipated. Can you not sense the power?"
Xian's amber eyes tightened and she winced as she stared down the sharp drop-off to gaze at the demon far below. "He is displaying his aura strongly, Great-Grandmother. Why on earth would he be doing that if he's trying to hide?"
"Look closer," the ancient monarch cackled slightly. "His form is inebriated. He's lost control. And that makes him a very dangerous opponent."
The twin girls standing off to the side said nothing, but Mu Tsu glowered at the distant balcony below them. "And we are to help this mëngqín."
"Tisk, tisk," Lon shook her long main of silver and glared up at him. "A dangerous bird of prey he may be; yet his cunning is not animalistic by any means. He will welcome our help at this late hour of this debacle."
Touching her lips with a finger, Xian peered sadly down at the three figures seated at such a distance beneath them. "It sounds like this is the end, Great-Grandmother."
Nodding sorrowfully, Lon's wrinkled features descended into a firm detachment. "Perhaps it is. Do not worry, my child."
Tears pricked the middle-aged woman's scarlet eyes as she smiled weakly. "I'm fine."
With a sigh, Lon shook her head slowly. My poor girl. I know what
you're truly worried about. Seeing Val again after so much time, and
knowing that it is he . . . you are a strong woman for confronting your
weaknesses. I applaud you, Xian Pu.
"Wait," Mu Tsu blinked, adjusting his new glasses as he gazed in
confusion into the streets below them, "I sense something else."
Lon raised her head, then narrowed her ebony eyes. "You're right. But it is not a demon, or one of the Dracons."
"But it is a Ryuzoku," Mu Tsu stressed, using the widely accepted Nihonga term. "However, it's one of our clan."
"A Lóngmòlu," the wizened elder snapped, "I should have sensed it before. I am becoming lax in my old age."
All concentrated on the aura, the azure and pink-haired twins stepping closer and peering down the sheer face also. "It is not good," Lon finally announced. "I recognize that energy. It's Lo Pang. The smug little bastard is right below us, at this moment."
"Betrayer," Mu Tsu spat, but Xian took his arm and sent him a sad look of warning. "Sorry," he ducked his dark head. "But I still don't forgive him. And he dares to name himself Lóngkui, as if mocking his heritage."
"True," Lon spoke, her voice harsh. "Few have forgiven him. And he is as lethal as his self-given name. It seems that this party is certainly going to get lively, eh?" she cackled, then, with a flourish, brought out her long cigarette holder and lit it.
Taking a puff, she smiled darkly out upon the city. "Perhaps he will join the fight as well. I wonder," laughed the witch, oblivious to the confusion of the youths around her, "if he knows that he is being stalked by the Britain sitting with our Wolf? He must know that the Yêxìng is there by now, surely. No Lóngmòlu could miss that signature now that he is displaying it so forcefully."
Xian moved languidly forward to stand beside her. "What should we do? If he's still here . . ."
"Insanity presses many an individual into their demise," Lon's wrinkled mouth twisted into a cruel smile. "The Nightshade will meet his end tonight, if he goes after Yêxìng. We will let him fall as he may."
Nodding, the periwinkle-haired woman looked on fretfully as her husband took her hand. "Yes, Great-Grandmother."
The deadly Dragon Flower, Lóngkui. It must be fate that you have joined this battle. May the Gods grant us freedom from your reign of terror.
The attacks had become practically overwhelming, and though Iyzeka did her best to defend herself and fight back, she could feel her aura weakening. Finally, she realized that Val's holy attacks had ceased, and with a surge of horror flashing through her, she tried to phase to him-
And found that she could not. Furious, the girl flew swiftly down, darting through the hordes of mutated Mazoku, and towards that spot of goodness and light that was Valgaav.
Just as Iyzeka broke through, she could see him, straining to hold up a protection barrier against the remaining creatures; he had killed far too few. His slender, tall form, badly beaten and bloodied, seemed hardly able to remain upright as he knelt upon the rooftop, wiping scarlet from his face and wincing in a quite palatable agony that churned her stomach.
"Val!" she cried, "It's a Halcyon Field! We can't break it!"
The maroon-haired girl dropped down outside of his weakening shield and raised her own, a glittering sanguine that splintered into being over the Ancient Dragon. "Valgaav," she whispered his name gently, and the wraiths paused in their strafe-runs to study the miserable young man as his turquoise head drooped, form wobbling and finally collapsing; the pale protection barrier snapped into non-existence.
Iyzeka's glare turned to the darklings, eyes flaring. "I will kill you," she told them softly, and her voice began to fall in pitch, resonating. "For hurting my friend . . . I will destroy you!"
Power . . . she could feel it becoming uncontrolled, her features contorting as she reached for the power to obliterate her foes . . .
As rippling blackness surrounded her, she knew.
This is my purpose, her hazy thoughts overwhelmed her, the energy she
still summoned threatening to overwhelm her. Shabranigdo . . . I will
take your power and give you NOTHING in return! YOU ARE NOT MY GOD!
I WILL NEVER FOLLOW YOU!
"AAAAAAGGH!" Iyzeka released a shriek, and a bloom of utter
chaos flowed up around her as she screamed at the specters, "I will not
let you kill my friend and I will not let you kill my brother! You
will never kill again!"
The tiny demoness raised her hands and flung them forward -
Release.
With a deep bass BOOOSH, the explosion of power shredded the
twisted masses surrounding, their wretched cries echoing as they disintegrated
within the swirling destruction that rushed outward – outward –
Striking the Halcyon Field, the power undulated, and Iyzeka's form collapsed as space and time shuddered around them, her shield around Val plinking out. Raising her scarlet head, she moaned as the field flickered, then raised again. "Dammit!" she squeaked, voice soprano once more. Blinking, she looked down at her hands, then turned pale at the curved claws extending from her nails. "I . . . fought . . ."
Dazed, the young girl sat down on her bottom and looked up at the dark shield glittering above them like a dome. "I . . . I killed . . ." Sadly, she looked down at the tattered form of her friend. "Val . . ." Sensing his life-force flowing jaggedly, she crawled over, barely noticing that the talons on her hands were disappearing.
Once she reached him, Iyzeka pulled him into her lap and ran her hands over his features gently. "Poor thing . . . You did such a good job."
Suddenly, emotion overcame her, and she began to sob as she clutched his
unconscious form to her chest. I killed . . . I killed things.
Even if they were mutated and unnatural; I caused their deaths.
Green eyes wide and hollow, the Mazoku rocked the slender young man in her
arms. Necessary . . . her mind fought to remain aware,
to hold some semblance of sanity and control.
Then the agony struck - a delayed reaction that hit her like a solid wall - and
she screamed at the wounds her summoning had inflicted upon herself.
"AHHHHHHHH!" she clutched at her human form, then bit down hard on
her lip as the sensation of the astral pain reflected through the corporeal
body. Oh LADY! begged the redhead, whimpering and sobbing as every
slice from Shabranigdo's power, every rip, asserted itself within her.
Mother always said calling on a higher demon would hurt, she thought,
before slipping into the oblivion of the physical form and hiding from the
torment in the only manner she could find.
Sanguine head rolling back, the girl collapsed onto the roof, the unconscious Valgaav laying across her . . . while above them the Halcyon field flickered in the thick blackness of the night.
