Strung Part 1

Author: Irk
Title: Strung Part 1

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Strung___
Snared in the Lacings___
Part One___

Xelloss sat atop a broken archway jutting out of the newly formed lake. Out of the clear night the moonlight carved a landscape of pale pillars wading across the sparkling silver water. The view was gorgeous, a pristine and delicate work of art capturing the beauty of destruction on a deific level. Xelloss gazed below him and watched with amusement as a fish swam through his reflection.
Such serenity was only appropriate for what was essentially a natural tomb. 'Here lies Sairagg,' mused Xelloss. 'Here lies the Holy Tree Flagoon. Here lies Fibrizo.'
It had taken hours for that to sink in at all. For half a day all that could occupy Xelloss' mind were visions of the Lord of Nightmares aspected through Lina. The memories of the goddess still tugged at Xelloss, blurring his concentration and scattering his thoughts into a half-trance. The Mother of All Things had stood - Xelloss focused his gaze on the center of the lake - right there. He had seen her move, heard her speak. She had actually looked at him.
Xelloss paused, the memory gripping him tightly. His thoughts could not leave that moment easily. He let it stay with him as long as it desired to, feeling grateful for even having the oppurtunity to witness it.
The loss finally gripped him, and Xelloss realized with a start that yes, Fibrizo was dead. Those visions that had drugged him into staring at nothing for hours on end were visions of his former master's death. Perhaps the abscence of any feeling of loss was due to the nature of the passing. He couldn't imagine questioning the Lord of Nightmares' decision. He couldn't even imagine Fibrizo doing so. The mazoku had protested, but it wasn't disagreement as much as a child's vain pleas to a parent. Fibrizo had known deep inside that when the Lord of Nightmares came Herself to claim a life, it was time to die.
Fibrizo really was gone now.
Xelloss thought that his lack of regret felt strange. He did miss Hellmaster. He had been very happy in that Lord's service. He had been very happy just to be in Fibrizo's presence.
The priest whispered a prayer to the water as a tribute to the departed, and then let go of his troubles. There was no use holding on to what was no longer there. He hated dwelling on death.
What was here for him now? Xelloss stared at his reflection, unmarred by any life below. There was really nothing for him to do now. No...that was wrong. There was nothing that he HAD to do now. He was free to follow any path he chose.
Xelloss tipped his staff to the direction of the moon, smiling. He would take his cue from the Golden Lord and follow her daughter. Surely she would set an enlightening course, marked by fine dining establishments and occasional explosions. He would certainly enjoy tailing Lina and her troupe, popping in whenever he wished. Considering Lina's average exploit, it would be an exciting vacation. And he really DID have to see more of Lina. His previous assignment had given him too many ulterior motives and side-errands to have as much fun as he had wished he could. A mix of work and play was fine, but the brew's flavor increased as the drudgery ran out. And now, with a straight shot of play on the menu, Xelloss was looking forward to his dining experience.
What was it about Lina? It certainly couldn't be her tie to the Lord of Nightmares, though Xelloss couldn't deny that such a thing resonated strongly with him. He had witnessed Lina's union with the Goddess long after he'd begun to like her, though. It was the girl herself that fascinated him.
Xelloss contemplated this for a while, watching the moon slowly glide across the perfect black sky. It was Lina's exhuberance, he decided, that drew him to her. She went forth with no inhibitions, living as hard as she could. Careening about on grand adventures, not caring where her steps took her, chaos was Lina's compass and laughter was her weapon. He had sometimes found himself wanting to follow her wherever she decided to run next, caught up in her enthusiasm.
It had been a long time since Xelloss had felt such a strong attachment to anyone. His gaze flicked to the water. The last person who had caught him up in such a passion for anything was now dead - Xelloss smiled at the irony of it - by Lina's own hand.
Could it be...
...no, Xelloss didn't feel any need for vengeance. Strangely enough, he appreciated the cosmic joke.
"My Golden Matron always replaces in more than full that which she takes away. May I fully appreciate the value of all that I recieve." Xelloss dropped a coin into the water, seeing it for that moment as the Sea of Chaos. Well, it was a sea of sorts, and created by the source of all chaos. Xelloss giggled. Perhaps it was a tributary, then.
A life on the road, then? Following a pack of humans, maybe even living with them? He'd have to behave himself a little more, of course. It was a small sacrifice for the experience. Xelloss had only truly interacted with humans in the last fifty years. He'd always been on the fringe, however, doing only what was necessary. It was this way with fellow mazoku too, and dragons as well. He wasn't ignorant, but as well-learned as he was, the knowledge came from books. Personal contact...
Xelloss realized he was cringing. He relaxed his muscles and untensed his nerves, exhaling slowly.
...he didn't want anything physical. He just wanted to get out, to see new things and be with people. Maybe the need was unusual, but he had always known himself to be strange. Living with humans and not having to care about what he was or where he came from...any mazoku would think he was a perverse little boy....
'Such a naughty boy...need to punish you...perverted little priest...'
His skin crawled as he tried not to think about the others. There were so many...and he'd only personally met a fraction...and then there were the Lords.
Xelloss froze, his body a silver statue on a pale pillar. He tried to run from the realization, but it had cornered him in his head, cutting off any possible escape. There were Lords, there were Lords, they knew Fibrizo had died, they knew who had owned Xelloss for so long, they knew where Xelloss had been so long, they knew he had no one to go to now, no one to command him now, up for grabs, the perfect servant, just take him and use him, pass him around, come and get him-
The pillar stood without decoration now. Xelloss bolted, running as fast as he could on the water's surface, ducking shafts of marble and tripping over crumbled bricks. There were no thoughts now, just memories of Gaav, of Zelas, of DYNAST...he couldn't go back. He had to run. They would catch him if he faltered, and whoever caught him would keep him this time.
A fractured keystone snagged Xelloss' ankle, sending him to plunge towards the water. As the priest twisted mid-air in an attempt to regain balance, a scarlet noose of silken thread fell over his head. Before he had any chance of escaping, the snare drew tight around his neck and dragged him into the water. Waves thundered over him, the water bleeding where he touched it until all he could see was an endless abyss of scarlet. He screamed as the tether pulled him further into the depths. As the water coarsed down his throat Xelloss felt his limbs go slack. Like red madness, the water seeped into him until his mind went numb. The last thing Xelloss saw was a faint glimmer from far above him as the moon itself faded into crimson.
* * *
The faint sensation of fingernails brushing the skin of his throat brought Xelloss back into full awareness. Cloth rustled under him, cloth wrapped around soft flesh and hard muscle. The hand straddling his neck stroked the delicate skin as it gripped him in a firm hold, fingers pressing but not bruising. Another hand played across his chest, smoothing the dark fabric of his cloak and occasionally tapping its nails on the silver brooch. Xelloss kept his eyes shut, fear creeping over him on tingling legs. He could begin to imagine the body under him, remembering how it felt to be held by its owner years before. Long slim legs lay under his, full breasts pressed against his back, hot breath washed over his neck. She was holding him against her, playing with him in her lap. Awn Fawlning. He was in Awn Fawlning, in her very own private chambers, lying back on top of her as she sat on her 'throne' from which she ruled her own private court.
'Please let me die soon.'
"I can hear you praying, Xelloss." The voice purred from its owner's chest, smug and feral. The hand around his throat wandered upwards, stroking his lips with a single finger. "You're awake, aren't you?"
Xelloss nodded slowly, his eyes still closed.
Lips pressed against his neck, parting so that the woman could taste him. "You've grown." Her fingers rustled across his cloak, tracing the brooch. "This is new, isn't it?"
"Fibrizo gave it to me." Xelloss' voice was weak, his words swallowed by the cavernous room.
A long nail drew spirals over a ruby embedded in the silver. "Such a deep red. It's a pretty thing, Xelloss. But it makes me wonder..." The hand drew away from the brooch and wandered down to clamp around his wrist, "...what happened to the jewelry I gave you? It was very hard to obtain." Fingers wrapped around his neck tightly enough to leave a mark. "I'm sure you recall how much trouble I went through when I made it."
Xelloss felt his fear rise, choking him. A wave of dizziness consumed his senses as the terror drained into the woman holding him. She purred with pleasure.
"You're like wine, Xelloss. Your flavor gets even better with age."
"I tried to keep them!" Xelloss' voice squeaked with panic. "It wasn't my fault!"
Teeth dug into his neck, drawing blood as the tongue encouraged pain to flow freely. "It's okay. I can use them from where they are now. If that little girl managed to destroy Fibrizo, imagine what she could do with my guidance?"
"Fibrizo was destroyed by the Golden Matron." Xelloss' voice sounded distant to him, too relaxed and steady for his current state. "Lina was an innocent vessel."
A nail scratched against his wrist, drawing the tiniest sliver of blood. "Don't you dare pawn off heretical make-believe as truth in my presence, Xelloss. This has nothing to do with your little pretend priesthood."
Xelloss couldn't bite back his words. "You don't understand. Mistress Zelas, I saw-"
Nails bit into Xelloss' wrists, his hands held down at his sides. "I don't UNDERSTAND?" The teeth dug deeper into his neck, blood trickling from Zelas' lips and spattering against Xelloss' collar. "Tell me what I don't understand, Xelloss."
Xelloss cried out with pain. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!!"
"Tell me!" Zelas curled her nails deep into the priest's flesh. "TELL ME!"
"I saw our goddess enter the body of a human and kill my master with a wave of her hand!"
Zelas threw her servant to the floor and stood over him. She wiped blood from her chin, licking a nail clean in the next movement. "The body of a human? You little shit." She prodded Xelloss' cheek with the toe of her shoe. The mazoku opened his eyes and looked up. Zelas was a vision of red-trimmed wrath. She reached down and plucked the brooch from Xelloss' chest. "I'd hate to soil a gift." She fingered the dark cloak around Xelloss' shoulders. "And this was a gift as well, wasn't it?" Zelas pulled the cloak off and wrapped the brooch in it. She tossed the bundle onto her throne and then dropped to her knees, straddling Xelloss' waist. Leaning far over, Zelas stroked her servant's cheek. She smiled. "I understand what madness runs through your head, Xelloss. As mentally weak as you are, I'm sure you're extremely vulnerable to innocent delusions." She rubbed against Xelloss, her lips brushing aginst his cheek. "I'll give you a chance to apologize."
Shaking, Xelloss slid his hands up Zelas' arms. She smiled, flicking her tongue over his lips.
"Good boy. Does it still hurt?" She rubbed his earlobe between her fingers.
Xelloss sucked a breath between his teeth, a deep ache piercing his chest. "Yes!"
"Good." Zelas led Xelloss' hands to her breasts. "I miss that." She began to derobe the priest in preparation for his rite of apology, purring with each new pulse of warm pain that emanated from him.
* * *
"You've been remarkably well-behaved." Zelas languished in the sheets, stretching her long legs out. Her bangs fell into her eyes, a scarlet curtain shot through with a streak of pale blush. Cast behind her, a long tail of hair ran across the bed in a spiraling red maze. She pulled Xelloss closer to her, the priest almost limp in her arms. "Such a helpful boy today. No complaints or pleas, no struggles. I was very pleased, especially when you asked if we could let things progress to the bed." She ran her hands up and down Xelloss' back, tracing the scratchmarks she had made in her climactic moments. "I never expected you to show initiative. I think you deserve a reward."
Xelloss tried to word a reply, but couldn't find the energy to speak. His request to move to the bed had been an act of foresight in his own benefit. He had realized very early on that if he even made it through the rite, he wouldn't last long afterwards. Sleeping on the floor was such a bad way to see the day's end.
Zelas nuzzled Xelloss' neck, her lips kissing the wound there. She closed her mouth over the gash. Slowly she licked it, melding the flesh together with the heat of her mouth. Her lips guided his skin, pressing it into an invisible seam. The wound was gone, the neck beneath her lips scarless and perfect.
Her fingers wrapped around Xelloss' wrists and pressed against the shredded fabric of his skin. Zelas pulled the cloth together, fingers weaving the stray edges and tying off the loose ends. His wrists were now smooth. There was no sign left of either their initial damage or Zelas' expert tailoring. She reached around to Xelloss' back and blinked in surprise as the boy curled against her, his head resting against her chest.
Xelloss shut his eyes and pulled his mind away from his surroundings. His skin betrayed his wishes, telling him that the body he clung to was nothing like Fibrizo's, that the hands stroking his back were too thin, the fingers too long. Zelas was being very careful but he could still feel the occasional nail brush against him. But he wanted to be with Fibrizo more than anything, wanted to be held close and kept safe by someone soft and warm. As Zelas patched Xelloss' wounded back, his wrists and neck throbbed with the fresh memory of pain. His mind clung to his own memories. Finding them too tattered and worn to support him, Xelloss turned his mind upwards. Above Zelas, above Awn Fawlning, above the sky and the stars that filled it, there was a Golden Lady who watched all those below. As his flesh was rendered flawless, save for a small region on his back that would always be scarred, Xelloss felt the Lord of Nightmares pull him closer, telling him how quiet and calm he was being, what a good boy he was being.
Zelas felt Xelloss slump against her as sleep caught him completely unawares. She trailed a finger up and down his spine, toying with the notion of playing with him while he was guaranteed to be noiseless. It was certainly tempting. She had missed her little doll while he was away. Her hand played around his neck, the pale flesh invitingly soft. Her fingers froze as a realization came to mind.
"I've neglected to attend to something, haven't I?"
Zelas plucked a crude ring of black flattened iron from a table beside the bed. She twirled it around her fingers, licking her lips. A flash of red twinkled from the metal as three tiny slashes, blood made crystal, welled up from its surface. She grasped the ring and pressed it against Xelloss' neck. It passed through skin and bone as if neither were there. Circling the priest's neck completely now was a collar that he hadn't worn for many, many years.
"That brooch was a pretty thing, but this is the only jewelry that you'll wear now." Zelas rose from the sheets, calling for a more active servant to amuse her.

You can find more of Irk's works at http://www.mazoku.com/~snapple/ficarc/

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