(no subject)
Disclaimer: characters property of Software Sculpters etc.
Series: Blind Glory
Worksafe
Pairings: Under negotiation. (but if Zel/Xel squicks you out, this is probably not the fic for you.)
Warnings: eventual slashiness, and also, this is set after the series.
Feedback: is enshrined.
Notes: I’ve been neglecting my One True Fandom shamefully lately.
For the record: We weren’t actually told (and remember, this is an animeverse-based AU) what state L-Sama left Sairaag or Flagoon in.
Oh, and also? The bit where a certain Dark Lord Lady may think she recognizes someone’s else’s voice? That’s pure Xel, and was written way first. ;p (hides)
Previous chapters can be found here.
Fill the Gutters With Gold
by Nightfall
Chapter 13: Himitsu janai desu ka?
In the High and Far-Off Times the Elephant, O Best Beloved, had no trunk.
Ever the proponent of efficiency over effect, Lina wanted Xellos to tell his story over dinner. Xellos, who Zelgadis suspected of being offended under the smile, waved a finger at her and said, “Serious conversation was invented to distract the minds of suffering students from bad sandwiches and worse coffee.”
Memory prodded by this, Gourry asked, “Hey, Xellos! If you’re such a good cook, how come you failed that cooking contest with the puppet thing when I was a jellyfish?”
Xellos, arranging things on plates, responded with an automatic, “That is a secret,” at the same time that Lina clonked Gourry on the head and growled, “You’re still a jellyfish.”
While Gourry made complaining noises and Sylphiel alternated between fussing over him and explaining her disappointment with Lina, Zelgadis asked, “Really?”
Xellos glanced up at him distractedly. “Hmm?”
“Is it really a secret?”
“Is what really a secret?”
Zelgadis’s eyes widened with exasperation. “Why you lost the cooking contest in the puppet tower.”
“What? No, why would it be? I thought my reasoning was clear.”
“Well?”
“I wanted to be underestimated until I was needed. I wanted to hide out and watch, too, and I needed some time to think. Besides, monsters and humans don’t like the same things. That mandragora soup was quality toxin, I'll have you know. It's not easy to make, and you have to do it fast and one handed. See, the interior of the mellis root dissolves into a poisonous gas when exposed to oxygen, so you have to keep it coated with something gloopier than water, but it explodes if you let the liquid sink in and it gets soggy--what?"
Zelgadis was looking at him, annoyed. “Do you ever do anything for just one reason?”
“I suppose I could,” he said dubiously. “It would have to be one pressing reason, though.” He whisked the plates onto the table. As they all sat down, he asked Sylphiel how the reconstruction was going. Although this was probably not Sylphiel’s idea of light conversation, it kept them all pleasantly occupied until she suddenly stood up and snatched everyone’s plates away before Xellos could rise. He blinked, and started laughing.
Zelgadis turned to Lina. “Did you find anything interesting?”
“Not really,” she said, stretching. “A lot of rubble and charcoal and melted glass and metal. You can go tomorrow, if you want. Xellos! Story. Now.”
“Hadn’t we better wait for Sylphiel-san, Lina-san?”
“You’re stalling,” Zelgadis commented.
“He’s right, though,” admitted Lina. “All right. But when she gets back, I expect you to be ready to talk.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Xellos agreed with a white smile. He went into the kitchen and came out again with a large jug of water and four teacups. He winked at Zelgadis, who, seeing that he was going to be stuck with his cracked mug, glared. Xellos met his eyes long enough to smile sweetly, then put on his cloak and went outside. Zelgadis, going to the window and opening the curtains, saw him swing up a tree in two branches, and disappear.
Lina, coming up beside him, made a face. “Weird.”
“Extremely,” he agreed. “Not bad, though.”
“Maybe he’ll survive tomorrow, then,” she said grimly. “What happened this morning?”
He told her all of it, obscuring the details of Birth Bless and going over the conversation with Zelas in careful but tactful detail.
“Are you sure he didn’t know you were there?”
“Fairly sure. And not just because he looked surprised to see me; he could fake that easily. I got the impression that when Zelas said I was in the shadows, he thought she meant something else. You know what this means, though.”
“Zelas Metallium wants me dead,” she said thoughtfully. “I wonder why we haven’t heard about it before now.”
“You won’t like the answer,” he warned. That was one of the details he’d been careful about.
“Tell me anyway.”
He sent her a warning expression, and shrugged. “Someone who Xellos called Zelas’s ‘little waitress’ and Zelas called ‘Luna-chan’ followed him out of the room after he’d received his orders and warned him off.”
She went demon-white and wavery, stammering, “My big sister?”
“No fainting. And no wrecking Sylphiel’s house.”
“I wasn’t going to,” she snapped, some of her color returning.
“Why are you so scared of her, anyway?” Her face went mulish. “Most people would think you’re lucky, having the Ceiphied Knight in your family.”
“Most people would think you’re lucky,” she retorted, “having one of the Great Sages in yours.”
“Fine, fine.”
“But what was Onee-chan doing with Zelas Metallium? …Nevermind forgetIasked it’snoneofmybusiness Idon’twanttoknow.”
“All right,” said Zelgadis, who had his theories and suspected he’d do better to keep them to himself. “How long do you think he can keep that up?”
“Huh?”
He pointed. Xellos was hanging upside-down with his feet hooked over a branch, rolling up slowly to touch his forehead to it.
They watched him for a while, and then Lina suddenly snarled, “You little rat-squirrel!”
Zelgadis blinked. “I assume you mean Xellos.”
“Weasel-speck!”
Amused, Zelgadis reminded her, “He’s at least four inches taller than you.”
“Only because he wears really thick boots!”
“All right. What’s he done now?”
“Look!”
Aside from being suspended from the branch by his booted toes (couldn’t lift Lina’s sword his bumpy blue eye), Xellos wasn’t doing anything objectionable.
“Look at his hair!”
It was hanging below his head, a rich, dark fall. Except for his bangs. They were just as usual, only upside down, not a hair out of place.
Oh.
“He must be using some kind of spell. Ceiphied, how vain!”
“Uh,” Zelgadis ventured. “There’s a thing. Rezo used it. I think it’s called hairspray. You could ask Amelia.”
Lina touched her wild mane, her eyes distant, but pride won out. “I’d rather wear plaits again,” she declared flatly.
Zelgadis shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“I don’t know what he thinks he’s doing,” she changed the subject, “but if he has half the sense L-Sama gave Gourry, he’ll save all that energy for tomorrow.”
Energetic wasn’t exactly the word Zelgadis would have chosen to describe Xellos’s activity. It looked, not easy, but meditative. He went along with her anyway. “Why, what do you have planned?”
“Nothing Amelia couldn’t handle,” she said defensively.
Since he hadn’t accused her of anything yet, that was as good as a warning bell. “Details.”
“Well, I started Amelia off with a hundred push-ups every morning-“
“Lina!” he interrupted. “I know mercenaries who would think that’s a serious punishment!”
“That’s what Gourry said.”
He paused. “Really?”
“Well, he said I was being really mean.”
“Ah.”
“But she didn’t complain. And Xellos does know what he’s getting himself into. He said so.”
“All right, assuming he wasn’t not-quite-lying like he always does and survives the morning warm-up, what then?”
“Then we put heavy things in a wagon and he pulls it to the nearest hill.”
“And then he pulls the wagon up the hill, right?”
“Not until we’ve sat down in it.”
“Do you do anything while you’re up there, or just come straight down again?”
“Oh, something. Don’t want to get bored, right? It depends on the terrain, and on how many times the wagon gets away from him going up. And on what kind of a mood I’m in. You know, keep things interesting. Then, when we get down, he has to go around the hill very fast, and then he gets to be unhitched while Gourry chases him on foot and I sit on Gourry’s shoulders and throw fireballs and things like that for him to dodge.”
“I’m sensing a pattern here. Let me guess. Then he has to climb Flagoon wearing oven-mitts, with one hand behind his back and his ankles tied together. Am I close?”
“That’s a good idea,” Lina said thoughtfully. “I may use it later. No, at that point Gourry usually took the wagon back to camp while Amelia took a bath, and then we all had lunch.”
“This wasn’t about the time when Amelia developed her current set of table manners, was it?”
Lina thought about it. “Maybe. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Right. No stealing Xellos’s food, Lina. I like the way he eats now. It isn’t messy.”
“Okay, okay. You’d better tell Gourry.”
“Gourry?”
“I never had to eat fast until he came along and started grabbing everything on my plate,” she complained.
“I see,” he said, trying very hard not to laugh at her and actually keeping a straight face. “Well, while you’re enjoying yourself tomorrow, I’m going to find a small slab of rock with a flat bottom and a round top. Make sure you ask him what he wants carved on it.”
He paused. Lina caught his eye. Grinning, they chorused, “That is… a secret!”
When Lina had stopped laughing (Zelgadis was still trying to draw his face back into its usual somber mien), she said, “He’ll be all right, Zel. Look.”
Xellos’s torso was parallel to the ground, and he was barely moving.
“I could do that,” she said. “Very quickly.”
She was right, of course. Even he couldn’t do that, not slowly. He was strong, but not in proportion to his weight or mass. Even if Xellos was, though, his weight was negligible, and strength wasn’t everything anyway. “He wasn’t doing ‘all right’ against those bandits.”
“He screwed up,” she said brutally. “Forgot what species he was. Couldn’t astral travel, probably went for his staff, wasn’t carrying any other weapons, and by then it would have been too late anyway. If he hadn’t had the sense to scream for help-which reminds me, I still need to toast him for insulting me like that. Anyway, he’s right. He needs to develop human fighting instincts again, whether he travels with us or not. This’ll do it.”
She turned around before he could even begin to form a reply, and yelled, “Sylphiel, you finished in there?”
“Nearly,” Sylphiel called back. There was a clatter of cutlery and she came out, taking the green apron off. Zelgadis tried to catch Lina’s eye, but she was watching Sylphiel.
Suddenly Gourry was moving between them. The big blond leaned out the window and yelled, “Hey! Xellos!”
Xellos did not, as Zelgadis had been half-hoping, fall on his face. Or anywhere else. He opened one eye and then the other, three inches from the branch, and asked, “Time to come in?” Gourry nodded with a smile, and moved away.
The leather cape flashed yellow in the dusky gloom, and Xellos pushed off the tree like a small sandy cyclone, diving through the window and rolling to his feet right in front of Zelgadis, who only just managed to keep from slamming him through a wall in pure reaction. “Just practicing for tomorrow,” he smiled in what would have been a leer if his lips and eyes had opened for it, as close to Zelgadis as Zelas had been to him, and was away in a swirl of gold.
At least, Zelgadis tried to console himself, I know where he gets it from, now.
“You shoulda hit him,” Lina frowned. “He has to learn he can’t do things like that.”
Not from me, though, Zelgadis thought. I don’t want him to learn that from me. Why don’t I?
He was still puzzling over that at the table, when Xellos was filling his mug with water. Xellos himself had produced a cream-colored mug with a big letter Z on it. A very suspicious mug: the Z was greenish blue instead of the expected crimson, black, or purple, and the shape looked unsurprisingly familiar under the new paint job. He wished himself good luck getting it back, though. “So, Lina-san,” Xellos said cheerfully, and Zelgadis stopped pondering and listened up. “I’m told you want to hear a story. Where would you like me to begin?”
“At the beginning, please,” said Sylphiel.
“And when you come to the end,” Gourry suggested brightly, “stop!”
There was a long pause while everyone looked at him. Eventually Xellos bowed courteously and, with his own personal equivalent of a poker face, said, “Thank you for your helpful advice, Sylphiel-san, Gourry-san. I had never thought of that approach. I shall keep your words in mind whenever I tell a story from now until the world’s end.”
Zelgadis rolled his eyes.
“Wow!” Gourry was impressed. “That’s a really long time!”
“One hopes,” Xellos agreed cordially. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they were glowing-with intensity, not light, and his pupils remained round, but it was still riveting.
In the before-time, Xellos said, there was a golden girl. She came from her own before-time in a willful mystery, and she was radiant and wild. She lived alone on the edge of nothing and everything, diverting herself from her solitude and listening to the wind between the stars. She asked the wind, “Why can I see the water and the stars, yet you hide from me?”
“Because,” said the wind, “I love you too well to deprive you of my mystery.”
She asked, “Why can I touch the water and you, yet the stars pull away from me?”
“Because,” said the wind, “their love is too great to hurt you with their touch.”
She asked, “Why do the stars vanish when I close my eyes, and I can hide from you in the water, yet if I return to you the water does not leave me?”
“Because,” said the wind, “Its love for you is too heavy for it to lightly depart.”
She said, “I will not have it so.”
Then the wind grew stern, and said to her, “That is the order of things. So all must be.”
The girl grew angry then, and cried, “You tell me must? Who but I can create? Not the stars, and not the water, and not you. Would you speak so to the stars? Who is like me?”
“No one,” said the wind. “And that, too, is the order of things.”
“Then,” said the girl, “I will make a thing without order. I will not be dictated to without explanation or reason. I will make a thing with no stars, or water, or wind, and live there.”
But the wind warned her, “You cannot live without the warmth of the stars. You cannot live without the breath and movement I bring. You cannot live without water.”
“Then,” said the girl, “what I shall make will be a thing of breath, and water, and warmth, and movement, and there will I live.”
But the wind warned her, “With only your own creations about you, you will die of loneliness.”
“Then,” she said, “I will make creations who are like me, and can create. Their creations will be mine and not mine, and I will not be alone.”
But the wind said, “They will not be like you.”
The girl smiled into the wind, and her smile was bright and sorrowful. “But, wind,” she said, “already no one is like me.”
And the wind was silent.
So the girl made a place of fire, wind, and water. Blackness beyond midnight, it was, and movement beyond foretelling, and she was all its light. For a time she was happy, but as the wind had predicted, she grew lonely.
So she cupped in her shining hands the dark matter of her home, and bade it, “With the power of my hands and the wisdom of the wind, become.”
And there came into being a thing of air, all blue and silver and white. He looked at her with wise eyes and knew her for his mother. And for the first time knowing love, the mother knew she was no longer a girl. And together they were happy.
But the child grew restless, and his white light waned. He said, “Mother, you are all my heart, but I can no longer live here with you. I cannot as you do float in this place. It rocks me every moment, and tears at my wings, and its touch burns. I must find a cool place to fly.”
“Go, then” said the mother, “to the place of wind and order, and make your own children to love. And fly sometimes above my sea, that I may see you, and tell me of your doings.”
“Mother, I will,” said the child, and flew away on cool wings. And soon there came into the world dragons, and in them leaped green ichor, and they listened to the wind and were its playmates.
Then the woman became lonely again. She cupped in her golden hands the dark waters of her home and told it, “With the power of my hands and the heat of the stars, become.”
And there came into being a thing of fire, darker than dusk and glowing a sullen red. He looked at her with wise eyes, and knew her for his master. And she held him, though he burned, and again knew love.
But the child could not live in her home, for it became steam and air at his touch, and he fell, and he fell, and he fell. He said, “Master, make me a place to stand.”
His mother said, “Love you though I do, I will not have stillness in my home. Go to the place that touches the water, and make your own children to love. And come sometimes to the shore of my sea, that I may see you, and tell me of your doings.
But the child heard only that he must leave. He grew angry, and said, “I will go, and I will make my own children, but I will make them for my own purposes and treat them as I will, as you have me.” And he scuttled away on blackened legs. And soon there came into the world demons, and in them roiled black ether, and they took lessons from the fire and were its lovers.
Then the woman wept, and golden light ran down her face. Her heart became resolute, and she tried again to create a companion. She cupped in her bright hands the lightless fire of her home, and bade it, “With the life from my hands and the weight of the water, become!”
And then spilled forth from her hands all manner of creatures, winged and furred and legged and finned, all manner of colors, and all different to the touch. They huddled together and looked at her with dull, liquid eyes, the red blood torpid inside them, and knew her not at all.
In despair, she cried, “To wind and water and the land that touches them both, go!” And as they left her, she wept until a pool of golden light surrounded her. She saw how it leaked away into the everything and nothing of her home, and her heart grew calm and wise.
She cupped in her glowing hands the shifting energies of her Sea, and bade it, “First of my children, home of my heart, in the place where the wind is that touches the water, warmed by the sun, become. With the power of my hands and all in you mixed, make your own children, and Let Them Be Mine.”
And there came into the world people of all sizes and colors, and all different to the touch. Some had fur, some hair, some hides like leather or earth, and they looked about them with wondering eyes, and knew that they understood nothing. And some were content that it should be so, and some burned to know all that there was with the red blood pounding through their veins. And the Mother, looking down upon them, laughed in joy, for although She loved all Her bright children, these were Her own, despite the warning of the wind.
And Her grandchildren fought, and loved, and multiplied, and ate each other, as children will, and each found a truth to live by. Some turned to Her bright child, and some to Her dark, and some raised their eyes to Her golden light, and laughed.
And then I was born, and I’ve been alive ever since.
“Except for the long period of time I spent undead, that is.” With this, Xellos sat back in his chair, sipped his water, and bestowed an avuncular smile on them all. “Of course, it’s from before we knew about the Overworlds and the Underworld, but ask me and there’s more truth in it than not.”
“How beautiful,” breathed Sylphiel. Amelia, dreamy-eyed, nodded. Gourry snored quietly.
Xellos said, “Ow!” He rubbed his head and shot a wounded look at Lina. Zelgadis buried his face in his mug to keep from laughing, but ended up breathing water out his nose.
Lina put her Slipper of Beratement away, and accused, “You’re stalling. And if you think you can get out of this just by reminding me you know my sister by telling one of her stupid bedtime stories, you’d better think again, squirrel boy.”
Xellos rested an elbow on the table, let his eyes fall into his hand and his hair over his face, and muttered, very quietly, “You’re going to be the worst student I’ve ever had, I can tell. This is going to be my punishment, isn’t it.” He paused, and groaned, just as quietly, “Lady Bright, I’ll be lucky if this is my punishment, won’t I?”
Lina’s ears weren’t as keen as Zelgadis’s. Sharply, she demanded, “What was that?”
“I was just thinking,” he said in a louder voice, without raising his head, “that I can see why my dear Lord Mother likes you so much.”
“That’s not what you said.”
He looked at her over his fingers and drawled, “No, but it’s all you get to hear. And, incidentally, that ‘stupid bedtime story’ is a sacred text, and substantially older than I am.”
“Anyway, I thought your ‘Lord Mother’ wanted to kill me.”
His face dropped back into his hand. “That’s my dread Lord Mama-chan,” he mumbled. “My great Lord Mother is someone else.”
“Who?”
One eye appeared, and in a voice more muffled yet he said, “Please try not to be dense, Lina-san.”
She grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up. Dangling him in front of her, she growled into his face, “Who?” Xellos smiled hugely, eyes closed, and leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
A moment later, he was being driven to the floor under a rain of blows and insults, not struggling at all. He wore an air of relief, as though the world had started making sense again and it was about damn time. Zelgadis winced, but held back from interfering. After all, Lina had been remarkably patient so far, and Xellos had been asking for it loud and clear.
When he judged that the pounding had gone on long enough, though, he inquired, “That was a secret?”
“No,” Lina snarled, pausing to look up at him from a beet red face, “'blindingly obvious.’”
While she was speaking, Xellos had gotten away from her and climbed back into his chair. He was battered and bleeding, with several beautiful bruises coming, and his hair and clothing were all awry. His smooth bangs had been particularly abused. He was smiling peacefully.
Zelgadis didn’t much care for this Guildhouse of his. He wasn’t pleased with Lina, either. As for Xellos's 'dread lord mama-chan,' he could cheerfully have wrung her lovely neck off.
Gourry passed Xellos a comb, which was accepted with a nod of thanks and used with contented humming. Amelia generously offered to heal him. He turned her down, pleased but confused, as though he appreciated her thoughtfulness but couldn’t understand the offer.
“Are you sure?’ she asked doubtfully.
“No, he’s not,” Zelgadis said, and Amelia began readying her spell.
“Of course I am,” Xellos said quickly, his tone tinted with indignation.
“But, Xellos-san,” Sylphiel started.
“Put it away, Amelia,” Lina said. Which should have been the end of that, but Sylphiel seemed to assume that meant the honor was hers, much to Xellos's alarm. “Start talking, Xellos.”
He sighed, smiling, and stopped batting Sylphiel off. “I’m not getting out of this, am I?”
“Not if you want Dragon Slave training.”
“Which I do.”
“You really don’t, Xellos-san,” Amelia said anxiously.
“I think,” he said, eyes closed and voice even, “that I would know. Don’t you, Amelia-san? Good. All right.” He took a sip of water from his doubtlessly purloined mug, and leaned back in his chair.
[end ch. 13]
Series: Blind Glory
Worksafe
Pairings: Under negotiation. (but if Zel/Xel squicks you out, this is probably not the fic for you.)
Warnings: eventual slashiness, and also, this is set after the series.
Feedback: is enshrined.
Notes: I’ve been neglecting my One True Fandom shamefully lately.
For the record: We weren’t actually told (and remember, this is an animeverse-based AU) what state L-Sama left Sairaag or Flagoon in.
Oh, and also? The bit where a certain Dark Lord Lady may think she recognizes someone’s else’s voice? That’s pure Xel, and was written way first. ;p (hides)
Previous chapters can be found here.
Fill the Gutters With Gold
by Nightfall
Chapter 13: Himitsu janai desu ka?
In the High and Far-Off Times the Elephant, O Best Beloved, had no trunk.
Ever the proponent of efficiency over effect, Lina wanted Xellos to tell his story over dinner. Xellos, who Zelgadis suspected of being offended under the smile, waved a finger at her and said, “Serious conversation was invented to distract the minds of suffering students from bad sandwiches and worse coffee.”
Memory prodded by this, Gourry asked, “Hey, Xellos! If you’re such a good cook, how come you failed that cooking contest with the puppet thing when I was a jellyfish?”
Xellos, arranging things on plates, responded with an automatic, “That is a secret,” at the same time that Lina clonked Gourry on the head and growled, “You’re still a jellyfish.”
While Gourry made complaining noises and Sylphiel alternated between fussing over him and explaining her disappointment with Lina, Zelgadis asked, “Really?”
Xellos glanced up at him distractedly. “Hmm?”
“Is it really a secret?”
“Is what really a secret?”
Zelgadis’s eyes widened with exasperation. “Why you lost the cooking contest in the puppet tower.”
“What? No, why would it be? I thought my reasoning was clear.”
“Well?”
“I wanted to be underestimated until I was needed. I wanted to hide out and watch, too, and I needed some time to think. Besides, monsters and humans don’t like the same things. That mandragora soup was quality toxin, I'll have you know. It's not easy to make, and you have to do it fast and one handed. See, the interior of the mellis root dissolves into a poisonous gas when exposed to oxygen, so you have to keep it coated with something gloopier than water, but it explodes if you let the liquid sink in and it gets soggy--what?"
Zelgadis was looking at him, annoyed. “Do you ever do anything for just one reason?”
“I suppose I could,” he said dubiously. “It would have to be one pressing reason, though.” He whisked the plates onto the table. As they all sat down, he asked Sylphiel how the reconstruction was going. Although this was probably not Sylphiel’s idea of light conversation, it kept them all pleasantly occupied until she suddenly stood up and snatched everyone’s plates away before Xellos could rise. He blinked, and started laughing.
Zelgadis turned to Lina. “Did you find anything interesting?”
“Not really,” she said, stretching. “A lot of rubble and charcoal and melted glass and metal. You can go tomorrow, if you want. Xellos! Story. Now.”
“Hadn’t we better wait for Sylphiel-san, Lina-san?”
“You’re stalling,” Zelgadis commented.
“He’s right, though,” admitted Lina. “All right. But when she gets back, I expect you to be ready to talk.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Xellos agreed with a white smile. He went into the kitchen and came out again with a large jug of water and four teacups. He winked at Zelgadis, who, seeing that he was going to be stuck with his cracked mug, glared. Xellos met his eyes long enough to smile sweetly, then put on his cloak and went outside. Zelgadis, going to the window and opening the curtains, saw him swing up a tree in two branches, and disappear.
Lina, coming up beside him, made a face. “Weird.”
“Extremely,” he agreed. “Not bad, though.”
“Maybe he’ll survive tomorrow, then,” she said grimly. “What happened this morning?”
He told her all of it, obscuring the details of Birth Bless and going over the conversation with Zelas in careful but tactful detail.
“Are you sure he didn’t know you were there?”
“Fairly sure. And not just because he looked surprised to see me; he could fake that easily. I got the impression that when Zelas said I was in the shadows, he thought she meant something else. You know what this means, though.”
“Zelas Metallium wants me dead,” she said thoughtfully. “I wonder why we haven’t heard about it before now.”
“You won’t like the answer,” he warned. That was one of the details he’d been careful about.
“Tell me anyway.”
He sent her a warning expression, and shrugged. “Someone who Xellos called Zelas’s ‘little waitress’ and Zelas called ‘Luna-chan’ followed him out of the room after he’d received his orders and warned him off.”
She went demon-white and wavery, stammering, “My big sister?”
“No fainting. And no wrecking Sylphiel’s house.”
“I wasn’t going to,” she snapped, some of her color returning.
“Why are you so scared of her, anyway?” Her face went mulish. “Most people would think you’re lucky, having the Ceiphied Knight in your family.”
“Most people would think you’re lucky,” she retorted, “having one of the Great Sages in yours.”
“Fine, fine.”
“But what was Onee-chan doing with Zelas Metallium? …Nevermind forgetIasked it’snoneofmybusiness Idon’twanttoknow.”
“All right,” said Zelgadis, who had his theories and suspected he’d do better to keep them to himself. “How long do you think he can keep that up?”
“Huh?”
He pointed. Xellos was hanging upside-down with his feet hooked over a branch, rolling up slowly to touch his forehead to it.
They watched him for a while, and then Lina suddenly snarled, “You little rat-squirrel!”
Zelgadis blinked. “I assume you mean Xellos.”
“Weasel-speck!”
Amused, Zelgadis reminded her, “He’s at least four inches taller than you.”
“Only because he wears really thick boots!”
“All right. What’s he done now?”
“Look!”
Aside from being suspended from the branch by his booted toes (couldn’t lift Lina’s sword his bumpy blue eye), Xellos wasn’t doing anything objectionable.
“Look at his hair!”
It was hanging below his head, a rich, dark fall. Except for his bangs. They were just as usual, only upside down, not a hair out of place.
Oh.
“He must be using some kind of spell. Ceiphied, how vain!”
“Uh,” Zelgadis ventured. “There’s a thing. Rezo used it. I think it’s called hairspray. You could ask Amelia.”
Lina touched her wild mane, her eyes distant, but pride won out. “I’d rather wear plaits again,” she declared flatly.
Zelgadis shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“I don’t know what he thinks he’s doing,” she changed the subject, “but if he has half the sense L-Sama gave Gourry, he’ll save all that energy for tomorrow.”
Energetic wasn’t exactly the word Zelgadis would have chosen to describe Xellos’s activity. It looked, not easy, but meditative. He went along with her anyway. “Why, what do you have planned?”
“Nothing Amelia couldn’t handle,” she said defensively.
Since he hadn’t accused her of anything yet, that was as good as a warning bell. “Details.”
“Well, I started Amelia off with a hundred push-ups every morning-“
“Lina!” he interrupted. “I know mercenaries who would think that’s a serious punishment!”
“That’s what Gourry said.”
He paused. “Really?”
“Well, he said I was being really mean.”
“Ah.”
“But she didn’t complain. And Xellos does know what he’s getting himself into. He said so.”
“All right, assuming he wasn’t not-quite-lying like he always does and survives the morning warm-up, what then?”
“Then we put heavy things in a wagon and he pulls it to the nearest hill.”
“And then he pulls the wagon up the hill, right?”
“Not until we’ve sat down in it.”
“Do you do anything while you’re up there, or just come straight down again?”
“Oh, something. Don’t want to get bored, right? It depends on the terrain, and on how many times the wagon gets away from him going up. And on what kind of a mood I’m in. You know, keep things interesting. Then, when we get down, he has to go around the hill very fast, and then he gets to be unhitched while Gourry chases him on foot and I sit on Gourry’s shoulders and throw fireballs and things like that for him to dodge.”
“I’m sensing a pattern here. Let me guess. Then he has to climb Flagoon wearing oven-mitts, with one hand behind his back and his ankles tied together. Am I close?”
“That’s a good idea,” Lina said thoughtfully. “I may use it later. No, at that point Gourry usually took the wagon back to camp while Amelia took a bath, and then we all had lunch.”
“This wasn’t about the time when Amelia developed her current set of table manners, was it?”
Lina thought about it. “Maybe. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Right. No stealing Xellos’s food, Lina. I like the way he eats now. It isn’t messy.”
“Okay, okay. You’d better tell Gourry.”
“Gourry?”
“I never had to eat fast until he came along and started grabbing everything on my plate,” she complained.
“I see,” he said, trying very hard not to laugh at her and actually keeping a straight face. “Well, while you’re enjoying yourself tomorrow, I’m going to find a small slab of rock with a flat bottom and a round top. Make sure you ask him what he wants carved on it.”
He paused. Lina caught his eye. Grinning, they chorused, “That is… a secret!”
When Lina had stopped laughing (Zelgadis was still trying to draw his face back into its usual somber mien), she said, “He’ll be all right, Zel. Look.”
Xellos’s torso was parallel to the ground, and he was barely moving.
“I could do that,” she said. “Very quickly.”
She was right, of course. Even he couldn’t do that, not slowly. He was strong, but not in proportion to his weight or mass. Even if Xellos was, though, his weight was negligible, and strength wasn’t everything anyway. “He wasn’t doing ‘all right’ against those bandits.”
“He screwed up,” she said brutally. “Forgot what species he was. Couldn’t astral travel, probably went for his staff, wasn’t carrying any other weapons, and by then it would have been too late anyway. If he hadn’t had the sense to scream for help-which reminds me, I still need to toast him for insulting me like that. Anyway, he’s right. He needs to develop human fighting instincts again, whether he travels with us or not. This’ll do it.”
She turned around before he could even begin to form a reply, and yelled, “Sylphiel, you finished in there?”
“Nearly,” Sylphiel called back. There was a clatter of cutlery and she came out, taking the green apron off. Zelgadis tried to catch Lina’s eye, but she was watching Sylphiel.
Suddenly Gourry was moving between them. The big blond leaned out the window and yelled, “Hey! Xellos!”
Xellos did not, as Zelgadis had been half-hoping, fall on his face. Or anywhere else. He opened one eye and then the other, three inches from the branch, and asked, “Time to come in?” Gourry nodded with a smile, and moved away.
The leather cape flashed yellow in the dusky gloom, and Xellos pushed off the tree like a small sandy cyclone, diving through the window and rolling to his feet right in front of Zelgadis, who only just managed to keep from slamming him through a wall in pure reaction. “Just practicing for tomorrow,” he smiled in what would have been a leer if his lips and eyes had opened for it, as close to Zelgadis as Zelas had been to him, and was away in a swirl of gold.
At least, Zelgadis tried to console himself, I know where he gets it from, now.
“You shoulda hit him,” Lina frowned. “He has to learn he can’t do things like that.”
Not from me, though, Zelgadis thought. I don’t want him to learn that from me. Why don’t I?
He was still puzzling over that at the table, when Xellos was filling his mug with water. Xellos himself had produced a cream-colored mug with a big letter Z on it. A very suspicious mug: the Z was greenish blue instead of the expected crimson, black, or purple, and the shape looked unsurprisingly familiar under the new paint job. He wished himself good luck getting it back, though. “So, Lina-san,” Xellos said cheerfully, and Zelgadis stopped pondering and listened up. “I’m told you want to hear a story. Where would you like me to begin?”
“At the beginning, please,” said Sylphiel.
“And when you come to the end,” Gourry suggested brightly, “stop!”
There was a long pause while everyone looked at him. Eventually Xellos bowed courteously and, with his own personal equivalent of a poker face, said, “Thank you for your helpful advice, Sylphiel-san, Gourry-san. I had never thought of that approach. I shall keep your words in mind whenever I tell a story from now until the world’s end.”
Zelgadis rolled his eyes.
“Wow!” Gourry was impressed. “That’s a really long time!”
“One hopes,” Xellos agreed cordially. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they were glowing-with intensity, not light, and his pupils remained round, but it was still riveting.
In the before-time, Xellos said, there was a golden girl. She came from her own before-time in a willful mystery, and she was radiant and wild. She lived alone on the edge of nothing and everything, diverting herself from her solitude and listening to the wind between the stars. She asked the wind, “Why can I see the water and the stars, yet you hide from me?”
“Because,” said the wind, “I love you too well to deprive you of my mystery.”
She asked, “Why can I touch the water and you, yet the stars pull away from me?”
“Because,” said the wind, “their love is too great to hurt you with their touch.”
She asked, “Why do the stars vanish when I close my eyes, and I can hide from you in the water, yet if I return to you the water does not leave me?”
“Because,” said the wind, “Its love for you is too heavy for it to lightly depart.”
She said, “I will not have it so.”
Then the wind grew stern, and said to her, “That is the order of things. So all must be.”
The girl grew angry then, and cried, “You tell me must? Who but I can create? Not the stars, and not the water, and not you. Would you speak so to the stars? Who is like me?”
“No one,” said the wind. “And that, too, is the order of things.”
“Then,” said the girl, “I will make a thing without order. I will not be dictated to without explanation or reason. I will make a thing with no stars, or water, or wind, and live there.”
But the wind warned her, “You cannot live without the warmth of the stars. You cannot live without the breath and movement I bring. You cannot live without water.”
“Then,” said the girl, “what I shall make will be a thing of breath, and water, and warmth, and movement, and there will I live.”
But the wind warned her, “With only your own creations about you, you will die of loneliness.”
“Then,” she said, “I will make creations who are like me, and can create. Their creations will be mine and not mine, and I will not be alone.”
But the wind said, “They will not be like you.”
The girl smiled into the wind, and her smile was bright and sorrowful. “But, wind,” she said, “already no one is like me.”
And the wind was silent.
So the girl made a place of fire, wind, and water. Blackness beyond midnight, it was, and movement beyond foretelling, and she was all its light. For a time she was happy, but as the wind had predicted, she grew lonely.
So she cupped in her shining hands the dark matter of her home, and bade it, “With the power of my hands and the wisdom of the wind, become.”
And there came into being a thing of air, all blue and silver and white. He looked at her with wise eyes and knew her for his mother. And for the first time knowing love, the mother knew she was no longer a girl. And together they were happy.
But the child grew restless, and his white light waned. He said, “Mother, you are all my heart, but I can no longer live here with you. I cannot as you do float in this place. It rocks me every moment, and tears at my wings, and its touch burns. I must find a cool place to fly.”
“Go, then” said the mother, “to the place of wind and order, and make your own children to love. And fly sometimes above my sea, that I may see you, and tell me of your doings.”
“Mother, I will,” said the child, and flew away on cool wings. And soon there came into the world dragons, and in them leaped green ichor, and they listened to the wind and were its playmates.
Then the woman became lonely again. She cupped in her golden hands the dark waters of her home and told it, “With the power of my hands and the heat of the stars, become.”
And there came into being a thing of fire, darker than dusk and glowing a sullen red. He looked at her with wise eyes, and knew her for his master. And she held him, though he burned, and again knew love.
But the child could not live in her home, for it became steam and air at his touch, and he fell, and he fell, and he fell. He said, “Master, make me a place to stand.”
His mother said, “Love you though I do, I will not have stillness in my home. Go to the place that touches the water, and make your own children to love. And come sometimes to the shore of my sea, that I may see you, and tell me of your doings.
But the child heard only that he must leave. He grew angry, and said, “I will go, and I will make my own children, but I will make them for my own purposes and treat them as I will, as you have me.” And he scuttled away on blackened legs. And soon there came into the world demons, and in them roiled black ether, and they took lessons from the fire and were its lovers.
Then the woman wept, and golden light ran down her face. Her heart became resolute, and she tried again to create a companion. She cupped in her bright hands the lightless fire of her home, and bade it, “With the life from my hands and the weight of the water, become!”
And then spilled forth from her hands all manner of creatures, winged and furred and legged and finned, all manner of colors, and all different to the touch. They huddled together and looked at her with dull, liquid eyes, the red blood torpid inside them, and knew her not at all.
In despair, she cried, “To wind and water and the land that touches them both, go!” And as they left her, she wept until a pool of golden light surrounded her. She saw how it leaked away into the everything and nothing of her home, and her heart grew calm and wise.
She cupped in her glowing hands the shifting energies of her Sea, and bade it, “First of my children, home of my heart, in the place where the wind is that touches the water, warmed by the sun, become. With the power of my hands and all in you mixed, make your own children, and Let Them Be Mine.”
And there came into the world people of all sizes and colors, and all different to the touch. Some had fur, some hair, some hides like leather or earth, and they looked about them with wondering eyes, and knew that they understood nothing. And some were content that it should be so, and some burned to know all that there was with the red blood pounding through their veins. And the Mother, looking down upon them, laughed in joy, for although She loved all Her bright children, these were Her own, despite the warning of the wind.
And Her grandchildren fought, and loved, and multiplied, and ate each other, as children will, and each found a truth to live by. Some turned to Her bright child, and some to Her dark, and some raised their eyes to Her golden light, and laughed.
And then I was born, and I’ve been alive ever since.
“Except for the long period of time I spent undead, that is.” With this, Xellos sat back in his chair, sipped his water, and bestowed an avuncular smile on them all. “Of course, it’s from before we knew about the Overworlds and the Underworld, but ask me and there’s more truth in it than not.”
“How beautiful,” breathed Sylphiel. Amelia, dreamy-eyed, nodded. Gourry snored quietly.
Xellos said, “Ow!” He rubbed his head and shot a wounded look at Lina. Zelgadis buried his face in his mug to keep from laughing, but ended up breathing water out his nose.
Lina put her Slipper of Beratement away, and accused, “You’re stalling. And if you think you can get out of this just by reminding me you know my sister by telling one of her stupid bedtime stories, you’d better think again, squirrel boy.”
Xellos rested an elbow on the table, let his eyes fall into his hand and his hair over his face, and muttered, very quietly, “You’re going to be the worst student I’ve ever had, I can tell. This is going to be my punishment, isn’t it.” He paused, and groaned, just as quietly, “Lady Bright, I’ll be lucky if this is my punishment, won’t I?”
Lina’s ears weren’t as keen as Zelgadis’s. Sharply, she demanded, “What was that?”
“I was just thinking,” he said in a louder voice, without raising his head, “that I can see why my dear Lord Mother likes you so much.”
“That’s not what you said.”
He looked at her over his fingers and drawled, “No, but it’s all you get to hear. And, incidentally, that ‘stupid bedtime story’ is a sacred text, and substantially older than I am.”
“Anyway, I thought your ‘Lord Mother’ wanted to kill me.”
His face dropped back into his hand. “That’s my dread Lord Mama-chan,” he mumbled. “My great Lord Mother is someone else.”
“Who?”
One eye appeared, and in a voice more muffled yet he said, “Please try not to be dense, Lina-san.”
She grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up. Dangling him in front of her, she growled into his face, “Who?” Xellos smiled hugely, eyes closed, and leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
A moment later, he was being driven to the floor under a rain of blows and insults, not struggling at all. He wore an air of relief, as though the world had started making sense again and it was about damn time. Zelgadis winced, but held back from interfering. After all, Lina had been remarkably patient so far, and Xellos had been asking for it loud and clear.
When he judged that the pounding had gone on long enough, though, he inquired, “That was a secret?”
“No,” Lina snarled, pausing to look up at him from a beet red face, “'blindingly obvious.’”
While she was speaking, Xellos had gotten away from her and climbed back into his chair. He was battered and bleeding, with several beautiful bruises coming, and his hair and clothing were all awry. His smooth bangs had been particularly abused. He was smiling peacefully.
Zelgadis didn’t much care for this Guildhouse of his. He wasn’t pleased with Lina, either. As for Xellos's 'dread lord mama-chan,' he could cheerfully have wrung her lovely neck off.
Gourry passed Xellos a comb, which was accepted with a nod of thanks and used with contented humming. Amelia generously offered to heal him. He turned her down, pleased but confused, as though he appreciated her thoughtfulness but couldn’t understand the offer.
“Are you sure?’ she asked doubtfully.
“No, he’s not,” Zelgadis said, and Amelia began readying her spell.
“Of course I am,” Xellos said quickly, his tone tinted with indignation.
“But, Xellos-san,” Sylphiel started.
“Put it away, Amelia,” Lina said. Which should have been the end of that, but Sylphiel seemed to assume that meant the honor was hers, much to Xellos's alarm. “Start talking, Xellos.”
He sighed, smiling, and stopped batting Sylphiel off. “I’m not getting out of this, am I?”
“Not if you want Dragon Slave training.”
“Which I do.”
“You really don’t, Xellos-san,” Amelia said anxiously.
“I think,” he said, eyes closed and voice even, “that I would know. Don’t you, Amelia-san? Good. All right.” He took a sip of water from his doubtlessly purloined mug, and leaned back in his chair.
[end ch. 13]