Heart of Darkness

Chapter 10

He'd fallen. He hadn't been looking where he was running, just watching that long red hair as it danced out of sight ahead of him as he chased Lina through the ruins, and he'd fallen. He'd tried to cast a Ray Wing, but his magic hadn't responded and he'd landed hard on the stones below. By the feel of his impact, it had been a considerably long drop.

The only thing that had saved him had been the stone of his body... stone? What? Thoughts swirled drunkenly in his head as he lay there on the cold stone. He wasn't stone... he was flesh and blood. He'd found the wellspring of his abilities, found the aspects of himself and Become. Hadn't he?

Slowly, it worked into his awareness that it was dark. It was so dark that he couldn't make out the distance from which he'd fallen. All he knew is that he had... he thought. He'd hit his head, that had to be it. He'd hit his head and now he was delirious. How long had he lain here? He'd have to stay awake until his thoughts cleared, until he could get himself safely somewhere. Until someone found him. Would Lina realize that he wasn’t behind her and come looking for him? Pale lips parted, and the voice that issued forth was cracked, grated by pain and weak from exertion. "Help me..."

What was wrong with him? Wasn't he some sort of powerful something that they didn't understand? Why wasn't any of that coming to his call now? He moved, tried to lift an arm, but the pain lanced through him, bringing a brilliant white flare to burst behind his eyes. Broken... something was broken. His arm? His hand? He shifted his leg, the same sharp brilliance flaring again. His back… or his neck. He must have hit head-first and broken his neck. He supposed that he should consider himself lucky that he could still breathe. Double-edged thought, that. Call it one small sliver of hopeful thought.

He wasn't much of a healer to begin with, and with his magic so reluctant to answer his command... he spent a moment wondering if there was a high concentration of orihalcon in the area... would he be able to restore enough of his body to get out of here safely? His eyes closed, though he couldn't tell they did. Summoning every ounce of concentration he had, he reached out with his mind, casting the healing spell. A glimmer flickered, and he thought that he could vaguely feel it start to painstakingly knit away the damage, smooth with tender care over shattered bones, nerves and muscle. But it could all be in his imagination.

It was exhausting, holding his concentration so tightly within his mental grasp, just like holding that sword had been that day so many years ago when Rezo found him in the woods. He could feel is concentration faltering, and he wondered how long he'd been working on his injuries. Oh yes, plural, for the first thing that his weakened magic had done was take inventory. Legs, ankles, ribs, left arm, neck... he was disturbingly pleased that he couldn't feel the pain from his broken extremities. Time was slipping away from him, and he wsn’t sure if he was indoors, outdoors… it was making him dizzy to think.

For a while, he lay there, simply breathing, simply being. It helped, not concentrating, and he fell into a vague sort of sleep, lying there lost and broken.

At last, she thought, watching Zelgadis as he lay there. Oh, it was all in his mind. He was still lying there on the table where she'd placed him originally, but it amused her to see his legs move, his arm try to twitch as he went through the motions that she could see in his dream. She was, of course, what was dampening his magic, catching it with her own spell, drawing it away from him so that he couldn't catch on to her presence and the dreamscape. Soon, she'd enter his dreamworld herself and help him, taking on the role of random wandering traveler turned rescuer, and then she'd make him all hers. With his potential as high as she knew it to be, and the link to Shabranigdo... he'd be the perfect one to provide her with the one who would become the Dark Lord. Oh, no... she didn't want to make him become Shabranigdo. He wasn't good enough for that. And he remaining himself had far more use to her than not... she could use him against the Inverse girl, and then she'd have a bargaining chip against the Cephied Knight.

A twisted smile touched her lips as she waited and watched him try to call his magic to him to heal his perceived wounds. A little of his magic was allowed to trickle back, for there was a delicate balance that she had to play him with. And if she let him think that he was healing himself slightly, well, that would build him up even a little more to be ever so grateful to her when she came to rescue him. There was, after all, no sense in letting him break and lose all hope before she was ready to twist the knife with her own hand.

The door slid open and the silver-haired woman knelt. “My Lady… your request has been prepared. The garden has been converted, and the room is awaiting your… guest.”

Golden eyes flickered from prisoner to servant. “Excellent. Now, go, and join that little group with Mettallium and Greywords. Make certain that you do everything in your power to keep them off of the proper trail until the time is right.”

“Yes, my Lady. At once.”

The door closed, and in the dim light, she smiled.

Set the chessboard, Jedah Greywords. I’ll even give you the first move. Because you won’t win. Not when I hold the Black King.