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Part Two: Zozobra
Chapter [1] [2]
[3] [4] [5]
The Dark Lemon Trilogy: Zozobra: Chapter Four
By: Sat-Isis/Suten Net
He sat alone in the friskcolating darkness among the dancing motes. The constant clacking, like a clock ticking time away, was the only sound save his breathing. He was once more in his late lord's throne; his unfocused eyes did not register the room around him. His brooding presence was a tangible thing in the room, far more powerful than the darkness.
Valgaav was having one of his more lucid moments. His thoughts dwelt on his little female. She had run from him and he had followed her through their newly formed bond as best he could. He had followed her faint trail out into the desert where it had suddenly gone cold. All he had found were some of her clothes half buried in the blowing sand. Oh, he knew why. It was that bastard Xellos' doing.
He was not worried, however, he knew in time he would find her. Then he would dispose of that detestable Xellos forever, in one bloody swipe.
One bloody swipe…
The thought held implications far beyond measure. That is how it had happened, had it not? The screams of the wounded indiscernible from the shrieking of weapons. The fire and the ice. Huddled against Mother's warm belly for safety. She had held her wing over his head, hiding him from view and trying to hide the view from him. Nothing bad would happen to him. Mother would protect him and keep him safe. His small clumsy fingers clutching and grabbing fistfuls of puffy dove gray. Everything trembling as he pressed his face into her soft and downy feathers. The noise and the terror stronger than the scent of blood in the air, and then the quite. Not a silence…a quiet. It was different. Something was very wrong. He pressed his face further into her feathers and breathed in her scent. This was Mother. Nothing bad would happen; she would keep him safe. It had started to grow cold. Maybe the sun was setting and it was time for sleeping and dreaming. He wanted to go home. He was hungry and tired and wanted to be hugged. Why was it so cold? He
tried to get up but he had to crawl out from under Mother's stiff wing. Why was she just lying there? Why was there blood everywhere? Why did no one move? Why was it so quiet? He pushed Mother's shoulder and called her. Nothing happened. He did it again and again. Each time the movement was more frantic. And he was screaming now, "Mother, Mother!" He crawled over another dragon, someone he did not know, to see Mother's face. He cried out to her and picked up her face in his hands. He nuzzled her beak with his cheek, but she was not passing breath. He looked more closely into her face and glassy eyes stared at nothing. Screaming, he dropped her face and fell away. That thing was not Mother. Mother was never cold or stiff. Mother had never looked like that. Never. Where was Mother? What had happened? Where was everybody? What where all these things looking like people only not lying on the ground? It was starting to snow and it was cold and he was hungry and tired and he wanted to go home and he wanted Mother. Nothing bad would happen if only Mother would come for him. He was crying now, sobbing hysterically. Why would no one come? Where was Mother? Why was he all alone? It was getting darker and colder and the snow was falling heavier. It was so quiet out there. Hysterical sobbing subsided to tired, defeated sobbing. No one was coming for him, not even Mother. Why? What had happened? What was? He could not understand. Why? Why? Why? And now he sobbed "Mother, Mother, Mother" over and over, brokenly.
Was still sobbing "Mother, Mother, Mother" brokenly as tears rained down his scared cheeks. His clackers had never ceased or eredered during the memory even though he was still quaking from the after shocks. His chest heaved softly from the sobs and he was sweating profusely. His body temperature had risen sufficiently to make his entire body steam in the cool throne room.
It would not be until later and not all at once that he would understand the lessons taught to him that day.
Death. Grief. Suffering. Isolation. Murder. Destruction. Coldness. Hunger. Pain. Insecurity. Insomnia. Loss. Panic. Paranoia. Hate. Madness. It was not right, it was not fair. It just was. Why? And the rest, as they say, was silent. It had been a long while since he had remembered that.
Val cal calmed himself by breathing deeply. Such thoughts were not conductive to regaining his Ojou-san. He must lock those memories away again.
He thought deliberately about Her. His little female smelled of something sweet and gentle. It was a fragrance he had never encountered before. It was so light that it teased his senses. He wished he knew what it was.
Valgaav could not help but wonder why she had fled. By rights, she belonged to him. She had given herself up to him of her own free will. She was bound by her own honor to stay by his side. It could not have been because of their first night. He had been gentle with her, unlike his own first night with Gaav-sama. While Gaav-sama had been a considerate lover, he had not been a gentle one.
Her relationship with him was not unlike the one he had with Gaav-sama. He had willingly put himself in Gaav-sama's hands that first night. He had offered up his own free will to his lord. There had been no love at first, but that did not stop him from putting his complete trust in his lord.
The weak must have protectors. This was a fact of life. The world was a violent place where might made right; where you would either take or be taken. Gaav-sama himself had once said something to the effect of,
"No matter how right you think you are, you are helpless in the face of insurmountable odds."
This he acknowledged, but there were thoughts that he would not acknowledge even to himself.
Yes, other thoughts. His dark thoughts; sick thoughts that hid in his mind and seemingly forever lurked like a white tiger. Thoughts of destruction and oblivion that he even hid from the Overworld God Almace. Although, he could not hide such thoughts from Almace forever, even now, Valgaav knew that he was becoming suspicious. It did not matter anymore.
Valgaav allowed himself a lop-sided grin. Soon, very soon, the situation would change drastically. Valgaav could feel it prodding incessantly at his senses. All he had to do was wait and the moment of triumph would arrive. Yes, all he need do was wait and she would come to him.
Clack…clack…clack…
* * *
It was just before dawn and the pale light was already creeping outside. She was slowly waking up from her slumber with the feeling that it was better to just stay in bed. A small nagging feeling that made the bed seem far too soft and warm to move from. The incessant pressing of wakefulness had other ideas, however.
As she became more aware of her surroundings, she could hear the chorus of birds, just outside her windowless room. The sound was most likely coming down through the chimney.
Finally, she fluttered her eyes open drearily and looked at the opposite wall. That is when it hit her, hard. All the thoughts and memories from the previous night crushed in on her mind and made her stomach a hollow pit. She fiercely closed her eyes and gathered herself close together. She choked on her sharp intake of breath and gasped on the exhale. She stayed like that a moment without breathing. It suddenly seemed too difficult a task to simply breathe.
Xellos was watching Filia as she awoke from her slumber. Her arms went stiff, her breathing much too quick and then suddenly stopping all together, and her face puckered in near anguish. He spoke,
"Filia."
A jolt went through her at the sound of her name on Xellos' lips. She started breathing again, even if it was in a gasping rush and slightly erratic. Filia took a deep breath, held it, and finally let it out slowly as she relaxed her entire body. Mere moments later she fluttered her lashes open and stared at the ceiling.
It suddenly seemed easier to breathe, but that empty feeling in her belly would not go away. It seemed she had to suck every breath deep inside her to satisfy that hollow.
"What are you going to tell them, Filia?" Xellos spoke again.
She slid her gaze from the ceiling to his face. His somber face with, for once, unsmiling lips and serious eyes. Those terrible eyes meeting her gaze. Valavazard, what was she going to tell Lina and the others? Saijuro-san and everyone else? Suddenly, a crazed thought took hold of her mind.
"You are not going to tell them, are you? Are you?" Filia managed to choke out. Xellos could feel the cloying touch of fear and panic from her. Xellos smirked at this and lowered his head, chin to chest, to shadow his eyes momentarily. The single lamp glowing did not give much light. Looking up at her again he stated simply,
"Why should I tell them anything?" Filia was not listening.
"You cannot tell them, nobody has to know. Nobody, nobody can know. Do you understand? No one-" Xellos cut her off,
"No one would believe me. Besides, I have no reason to tell Lina-san. Yet. So what are you going to tell the others?" Filia calmed down slightly, her face regaining some softness. She sat up and moistened her lips.
"I do not know what to say to them. I, we, have to think of something. Maybe, maybe I went out for a walk and I, I got lost. I had to sleep outside on the ground and I got sick from being outside at night in the cool air for so long. How is that? Is that well enough?" Filia rushed through her explanations as fast as she thought of them.
Xellos sat there a moment thinking. He formed his hands into a steeple and brought them to his lips as he ducked his face from the limited light once again. He sat, just like that, for a moment that, to Filia, seemed to last an eternity.
Startling her slightly, he looked up unexpectedly with his genki as usual expression and said,
"I think that will work!" At first, Filia did not believe
him, how he could be so serious one moment and so…usual the next. Xellos cocked his head to one side, still smiling, at her look of confusion.
"And…and, you will not tell anyone?" Filia asked timidly, whispering. Xellos cocked his head to the other side after giving his head a quick negative shake. Filia not not quick to believe him. To trust Xellos was foolish.
"What assurance can I possibly have from you?" Xellos did not expect such a question from Filia. Or rather, he did not expect the directness of it. Time to bring out the big spells, so to speak. Xellos said softly, still holding his expression in place,
"It could be our little secret." Filia pursed her lips, thinking a second as she stared off into space. A secret of Xellos' was as good as a promise. As good as, if not better, than gold. She looked back up at Xellos again. He opened one of his eyes and pointed to it saying,
"Though I am mazoku, Filia, I always honor my secrets." Xellos finished with a smile and Filia could not help but believe him. A moment of silence passed and then it was broken by a commotion downstairs. No doubt Lina and company were back from their midnight investigation. Xellos, of course, knew this beforehand. After regaining his genki mask, he stood and began to phase out.
"Wait! Xellos! Where are you going?" Filia cried out. Xellos reappeared floating above the chair he had sat in by her bed. He shrugged saying,
"It would not be good for either of us for me to hang around for Lina-san and the others. Ja!" He flashed out of sight once more, leaving Filia alone.
Alone to face them all in her greatest moment of crisis.
End of Chapter Four Previous
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