Heart of Darkness

Chapter 53

“Sylphiel.”

The voice was a whisper in her dreams, a sound that barely made itself known.

“Sylphiel.”

It was out of her dreams, a sound born of flesh and blood, a whisper in her ear as she lay asleep.

“Sylphiel.”

The Cleric opened her eyes, blue gaze settling on the man cloaked in black that knelt beside the bed. As he came into focus, Sylphiel’s eyes widened. It was Zelgadis looking quietly back to her, those deep blue topaz eyes of his so searching, so desperate. She knew right away that something was horribly wrong.

Sylphiel sat up slowly, the blonde swordsman next to her still snoring in his sleep. “What is it, Zelgadis?” Her own voice was barely a whisper, a scant touch above the sound of her breath. She didn’t believe that Zelgadis was a bad as some (namely her husband) put him out to be, and she couldn’t risk Gourry waking up and finding him in the shadows of the bedroom.

In silent answer, Zelgadis’ left hand lifted, a small golden glitter resting in his palm, catching the faintest of light from the window. Lina’s wedding ring. Sylphiel couldn’t imagine Lina willingly taking it off, and when her gaze lifted to Zelgadis’ she could see why he hadn’t spoken beyond whispering her name to wake her. The pain and unshed tears in his eyes were enough to make her own heart ache in sympathy.

In that moment, she made her decision. She slipped out of bed, dressed only in her chemise, uncaring of the impropriety. She fell to her knees, looking at the man before her. He was powerful, yes. He was Mazoku, true. But he was still Zelgadis, and she’d known Zelgadis for many years. She had faith in his heart. He looked wearily back at her, and she offered him a gentle smile. “Take me to Lina. Let me help.”

When her light fingers rested on his wrist, Zelgadis nodded once, closing his eyes and drawing his power around them both like a blanket. They faded from the room, and Gourry simply rolled over and kept snoring, none the wiser.

Reality shifted. It was as if she’d blinked away blurry vision and she could see clearly again. The figure beside her rose to his feet, shadows collapsing about him. Belatedly, Sylphiel realized that he’d been wearing a cloak, and he wasn’t just a thing of shadows as he’d seemed in her room. He stopped and turned, offering her a hand so she could get to her feet.

She took the aid gratefully, and was surprised when he released her hand to reach up and transfer his cloak to her shoulders. “You’ll get cold,” he remarked, leading her through a darkened hallway and into a small room.

Lina was lying on a bed that looked as if it had been hastily fluffed into something vaguely worthy for her to lie upon. She was so pale, so still… the only other time Sylphiel had seen her like this was under Sairaag, when Copy Rezo had… the Cleric forced her thoughts away from that, moving to the bed and looking carefully at Lina. She took Lina’s hand into her own, reaching out with her magic, turning her attentions to the rise and fall of Lina’s chest, listening for breath. Her magic confirmed it; Lina was alive… but barely.

“I destroyed the spell that had trapped her. I did what I could… but I can’t heal her. My magic has shifted… I can’t save her, Sylphiel. She needs your help. I need your help. I’m Mazoku… the White magics are lost to me…” His voice was a fractured whisper. He was so powerful… and yet, he was completely helpless. He needed Sylphiel’s magic, needed her to understand. He couldn’t do it.

She nodded, placing Lina’s hand gently on the bed and turning to look for a chair she could sit in while she worked. Three steps brought her to a suitable one, and she pushed it towards the bed. Zelgadis moved a finger, and the chair swept itself out of her hands and came to a perfect stop where she’d wanted to put it.

“Sylphiel. Before you do this, promise me one thing.” It wasn’t a query, it was a command. Before she could ask, he continued, watching her settle into the chair as he spoke. “If something happens… if Lina,” his voice broke and he swallowed, took a deep breath, and tried again. “If Lina dies, you have to destroy me.”

It was a good thing that Sylphiel was sitting, for the world fell out from under the Cleric. “Zelgadis, I…” she began, all too painfully aware of what he was asking her. She knew this wasn’t an easy or frivolous request.

“Promise, Sylphiel. I’m dangerous. Without Lina, I’m a monster. Promise me.” He sounded so desperate, so utterly and irrevocably resolute. She’d seen him I the cave, she knew what he was capable of.

“I promise that I will defend myself, Zelgadis.” It was as close as Sylphiel could come to telling him that she would do as he asked, and before he could press her further, she turned to Lina, drawing her hands together to cast the first healing spell.

Zelgadis backed up instinctively, watching as the spell began to grow. Hers was pure magic, the antithesis of his, and even a touch of it would hurt. But he’d deserve it for hurting Lina. He forced himself to step forwards again, telling himself that he had to stay close to Lina.

He only hoped that Sylphiel could work a miracle. If Lina died, he knew that he’d lose all self-control. She was what returned him to himself before; she was the uniting force before he understood what little he understood now, way back in the beginning of all of this. He couldn’t understand how, but he loved her. Every aspect of himself loved her, though it defied all rationale.

She had to live.

For he couldn’t without her.