Heart of Darkness
Chapter 54
It had been silent for hours, darkness filling the small cabin with an almost oppressing hand. He’d staggered into the cabin, closed the door behind him and leaned against the door for a long time, looking out across the room into nothingness. He’d stood there like that for what had seemed a small lifetime, stunned into the heavy silence that had smothered all thoughts.
Finally, Xellos walked across the room, a stilted step that brought him to the edge of the bed where he now perched, the very image of shell-shocked. In all of his existence, he hadn’t seen anything quite as… he lacked the language to describe it, even to himself. Countless years, hundreds of languages at his disposal… and he couldn’t express, couldn’t define what he had seen, what he had felt.
He felt… alone.
For the first time in his life, be it as the mortal that he once was, and then the Mazoku he became, he felt disconnected, cut off from the World that he walked, disassociated from that which he was. He was still a Mazoku, still the General-Priest of Beastmaster Zelas Metallium. He was still the high-ranking purple pain in the posterior that he’d always been.
But he wasn’t, was he?
How could he have staggered backwards into a shadow, how could he have found the wherewithal to leave as he’d been instructed by Jedah? Jedah. Hellmaster. Hellmaster Jedah Metallium Greywords. Creator, Companion. Lost to him now, link broken and Shabranigdo only knew what the Sword of Light had left behind. If anything.
What did he do now?
What in all the Hells he knew did he do now?
He sat in the darkness, gaze cast across the emptiness. He knew what he wanted. He wanted time off. The fragment of Mortal Soul within him wanted to rest, to grieve, to recover and take stock of what was left. What little there was. He needed to spend some time the way that he used to.
He stood, hands reaching up to unfasten the cloak clasp. He could have undressed with a simple thought, but right now, he was finding an odd measure of comfort in the physical motions. Pants, shirt, belt… it all fell unceremoniously to the floor as he walked across the cabin to the door that led to the bath.
He was tired. Oh, by Shabranigdo, he was so tired.
The water was warm when he slipped into it, settling onto the seat and closing his eyes as he had once upon a time when he was Mortal and careless. It had been the summer before he’d gone to the monastery. Two summers before he’d met… he forced his thoughts away from that day. Remembering Jedah right now was just a little too painful, even for a Mazoku.
He’d take
the night off; pretend that he was nothing more than another traveler in the
beautiful city of
He could almost feel the fingers touching his hair just below his ear, the soft way that he’d been approached with a whisper to his ear, a whisper that held promises of things beyond the mind’s imagining. The fingers almost touched his neck, almost brushed at the base of his skull.
The hair on the back of his neck rose. There were fingers at the base of his skull, fingers that were real and warm and- violet eyes snapped open.
If he’d been Mortal, his heart would have stopped.
It tried anyway.
Jedah was right there, there in the water, breathing warm breath on his ear, his fingers curling into his hair. Jedah. Hellmaster, impish boy, very much alive, Jedah.
The violet gaze widened, Xellos almost unable to comprehend it. Jedah wasn’t dead. Gourry hadn’t destroyed him with the Sword of Light. “How…?” Xellos managed, unable to string much beyond that together.
“To tell the honest truth,” Jedah sat back, his hair spilling into the water, swirling in the warmth and creating a soft cloud around his upper arms. “I don’t know.” He closed his eyes, momentarily reliving the event.
He’d knelt there, waiting, knowing that the Sword was falling, knowing the final blow was coming. He’d felt the blistering purity falling down like Holy Terror. He’d fought every instinct to flee, to leave and let them thing that he’d been destroyed. But if Jedah was one thing beyond being Mazoku, he was honorable. So he remained in place, feeling the Sword, gritting his teeth against the pain.
Which suddenly vanished as the Sword of Light was extinguished and lowered to the side, harmless.
Light blue eyes opened, looking to the violet ones. “He just lowered the Sword of Light and that was it. He turned, saying absolutely nothing, and he left me there.” Jedah shook his head, setting his hair dancing in the water. “Sylphiel went with him, and Amelia left too. Only Naga stayed behind, and she put her hand on my shoulder and said she’d talk to Amelia.” He sighed a heavy sigh that seemed to help release some of the nervous tension that he’d felt. Sometimes he longed to be a lower Mazoku, one that didn’t have the complication of emotions; one totally dedicated to destruction, that mindless burning desire to bring the world to ruin that could never be sated.
“And they left me there, Xellos. No harsh words, no threats, no… requests for reasons or explanations.”
Xellos could hear the bewilderment in Jedah’s voice, could relate to the lack of understanding, for he himself didn’t understand it either. But if he had ever wanted to see the blonde swordsman, he wanted to now. He wanted to thank Gourry for giving Jedah back, for not choosing to destroy the one thing in this pathetic world that he’d ever cared about. Not that it would have mattered to Gourry in the least.
And then, Jedah spoke words that chilled Xellos. “We have to go back and help save Lina.”