Heart of Darkness

Chapter 41

Given that Zelgadis hadn’t immediately gone defensive, hadn’t yelled or cursed, Jedah thought things were off to an almost decent start. Granted, Zelgadis had that “caught out in the cold” expression, but as he watched, the aquamarine eyes settled into a grim contemplation of the cold reality before him.

“When did you make the Pact, Jedah?" It was spoken in an even tone. What Zelgadis wanted to say was, “When did I fail you?” but he knew he hadn’t been there, indeed should have expected Jedah to make similar choices to his own. Younger brother followed older brother entirely too closely at times.

Jedah blinked. Pact? He had to laugh, suddenly understanding why Zelgadis was handling things so... well. Zelgadis thought that Jedah had made the Mazoku Pact with someone. It was always amazing how people could be staring down the cold hard truth and still manage to overlook something about it. “I’m afraid I never made the Pact, Zelgadis.” Jedah admitted softly. “I have always been a Mazoku, though I much prefer to keep it private knowledge, reserving it for when it is needed.”

Zelgadis spent a moment wrapping his brain around that. Frowning, he walked to Jedah, his light eyes searching Jedah’s. “You’ve always been a Mazoku,” he repeated, as if for clarification. It was all there, glittering within those brilliant eyes that he had thought he’d known. How had he missed it? He’d never seen anger or malice in Jedah.

Jedah nodded slowly, his winter blue eyes not shifting from that searching gaze. “I was born of the shadows that were cast by Shabranigdo, Zelgadis. My… mother is Zelas Metallium. Xellos answers my command, when it suits me.” He was spelling it out for Zelgadis, drawing the picture with clear lines. A strange case of necessity dictated it. He didn’t want to do any further damage, didn’t want to risk pushing Zelgadis too hard. He knew all too well what could happen if he did.

“Ah,” Zelgadis said, turning to move to a chair by the window and sit slowly, his entire manner that of a man defeated. “And precisely when were you planning to tell me, Jedah? When was I to learn that you aren’t my little brother?”

Jedah was surprised to feel a slight tinge of discomfort. Damn his father for his heart. “Zelgadis... I’m not your brother, no. But we are related.” He sighed, shaking his head and walking to a chair opposite the one where Zelgadis sat. “Honestly and ideally, you were never to find out. You were supposed to live a happy little mortal life, never to know that once upon a time, your family learned to break the boundary that separated Man from Mazoku. But that all changed when Rezo intervened.”

“Rezo… intervened,” Zelgadis echoed. Things had gone from strange to bizarre and straight on into surreal. But now… now, he couldn’t begin to quantify how far out in ‘left field’ he was feeling. There weren’t words for it, for the ones he knew didn’t remotely scratch the surface. “What exactly does that mean, Jedah?”

“What do you recall of your youth, Zelgadis? Do you remember where you were born, where you grew up?” Jedah’s voice was quiet, far more adult than Zelgadis had ever heard before. It was as if the youth… man… sitting in the chair across from him was older, not younger, and older by an uncomfortable span of years.

“Of course I remember where I was…” Zelgadis’ voice trailed off. He didn’t remember where he was born. He frowned, casting an uncertain glance to Jedah, then looking to his hands. “I grew up in Rezo’s tower. Xolf and Rodimus were my protectors. When I was twelve, Rezo turned me into a monster.” The words were hollow now. Once, they would have been tainted with venom and followed by a curse.

Jedah shook his head. “You were born in a small town that was in the grip of a hideous plague. Your father died days before you were born, and your mother gave her life to bear the only healthy child the town had seen for months.” He chose his words carefully, knowing that he could easily hurt Zelgadis, and yet… strangely contrary to his supposed nature, he had no desire to do so.

“You had magic, Zelgadis. Strong healing magic, the kind that only comes along once in a generation. Rezo followed bloodlines to find you and rescue you. Back then, he was still Rezo the Red Priest. He hadn’t been tainted by the blood that ran deep within his veins. He hadn’t yet crossed that boundary.” Jedah sat back, watching, waiting to see what Zelgadis would say.

Zelgadis’ hand lifted to his temple, fingers shaking slightly as he touched cool fingers to a forehead that felt as if it were on fire. “He wanted to raise me so that I could grant him his sight. So he stole me. And when my powers weren’t strong enough, he had no further use for me.” He lifted his head, looking at Jedah with a piercing blue gaze. “I thought that my family had been left behind. I thought that you had been left behind. And all this time, I was living with a lie for a memory. Details carefully blurred, secrets held concealed.” Anger was at last beginning to ripple into him, to give him the metal foothold that he needed to rip the seal off of the memories.

Jedah felt the magic fueled by the anger, felt the seal crumble under Zelgadis’ mental touch. He watched those brilliant blue topaz eyes as the memories flooded through Zelgadis, as realization and understanding fueled that anger… and then shattered into pain.

“Ambervale. I was born in Ambervale,” Zelgadis whispered, all color drained from face and voice. Shock filled him, though he felt empty, as if there were nothing in his soul and he was once more a puppet dancing on the strings held by a madman. “I was born there and I destroyed it.”

The next words chilled them both.

“And I enjoyed it.”