The Dark Lemon Trilogy: Zozobra: Chapter One Yes, Minna-san, it's what you've been waiting for! The second installment of The Dark Lemon Trilogy! __________________________________________________________________ I can't say when part two will be complete, considering I'm packing a lot into it, but I will work as quickly as possible. Any-who, on to the fic! She was awake now. There was something warm next to her, breathing. She did not want to open her eyes, wherever she was, it reeked of something she could not identify. She tried to move. She stopped. She hurt, everywhere. She whimpered and the warm something moved against her. It was Him! He tightened his arms around her and moved his head to nuzzle her forehead with his cheek. She stiffened her body as she felt some of his hair fall against her face. After a moment of stillness, she cracked open an eye and looked up into his face. He was still asleep, or at least he appeared to be. She opened both eyes and moved her face away from his. She looked down at them and was shocked to discover that one of her legs was thrown over his hips, that one of her hands rested on his shoulder and her other on his chest. She carefully lifted her leg and placed it by its mate, grimacing as she did for her leg stuck slightly to his skin. A deep, calming breath filled her lungs as she slipped from underneath his arms. She realized that they were both slightly sticky from... She rolled away from him and huddled in a ball for a moment. Though it hurt, she placed her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Tears threatened as she squeezed her eyes shut and barred her teeth. Breath hissed through her teeth as she began to tremble slightly. After a moment she calmed herself, willing the thought of it, the memory of it, away. She carefully pushed herself up on her knees. She looked down at the hands on her thighs. There were bloody hands on her bloody thighs. Disbelieving, she looked at her own hands. From fingertips to palm His blood covered her hands. Once again, the blood of an Ancient Ryuzoku was on a Golden Ryuzoku's hands. Tears splashed on her thighs making her focus on them. They were smeared with more than her blood. Sweat, scent, her dew, his seed... His seed. Her eyes grew wide as she vividly remembered what he had done with his seed. Her hands clawed as she began hyperventilation. Slowly, though she urged herself not to, she turned her head back to look at him. Really look at him. His face was so peaceful in his sleep. She damned him for that. It revealed nothing of his unpredictable nature. She had left welted marks and bloody gouges on his chest. A few more scars to add to his collection of those made by Golden Ryuzoku. His thighs and hips were smattered with her blood and their secretions. Bruises were scattered and dark from his knee to his ribcage on one side of his body. No doubt caused by her tail. His skin glowed slightly in the candle light from the sweat that had covered him. His large wings were gathered close to his back and his arms that stretched out before him, from when he had held her, tensed occasionally. Tears were running down her cheeks and neck as her eyes reached the bed-like object itself. The sheets were shredded, bloodied, and stained from their encounter leaving them utterly ruined. She knew what the smell was now. This place reeked of sex and the tangy odor of blood. She felt like vomiting. She had to get out of this place before he woke up. She had to get away. Scrambling off the bed she fell as her legs could not support her weight. She heard a groan come from the bed-like object and froze. Her heartbeat raced faster than she had realized it before. She looked down at the floor that was not a floor and began to wonder why she was not falling, although she felt like she was falling. After moment of gut wrenching silence, her heart slowed and she tested her feet. Like a newborn fawn, she carefully rose on her legs. Filia stumbled a little as she took a step behind her. She realized that he was waking up and her heart slammed in her chest once more. She backed away from him and tripped into a candelabra. She caught herself on it before they both fell. Droplets of hot wax burned her arms and she gasped audibly at the sensation. A stirring came from the bed-like object and she panicked, letting go of the candelabra stepping backwards rapidly. Her eyes wide with fright, she put her hands to her mouth to keep from utter a sound. She was suddenly surrounded by darkness as she was pitched back into the gateway that led to the Terrestrial Plane. She could not help but screech. In another instant the darkness dissipated and she found herself back in the throne room. She stumbled back into the throne, over the armrest. As she picked herself up, her hand felt something unusual in the throne's seat. Picking it up carefully she was surprised to find that it was a child's toy. Her quandary was broken by a voice calling out, "Lord Valgaav? Lord Valgaav?" She started. It was the ogre, Gravos. She dropped the toy and stumbled off the dais for her clothing. She slung her cloak over her shoulders and slipped into her boots. Crouching down, she reached for and bundled up the rest of her clothing. She wrenched her mace out of the floor where it had been dropped and cradled it in the crook of one arm with her clothing. With her other hand she reached for her headdress and paused. She had no right to reclaim her headdress. She was no longer a Shrine Maiden. She bit her lip and fisted her trembling hand as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Of course, she could always pretend that this hand never happened. She could forget this; she would have to. It would mean more lies, but what were a few more lies to the Golden Ryuzoku? "Lord Valgaav!" He was closer now, startling her. She grabbed the headdress and fled through what looked like a good exit. * * * He awoke slowly. He was warm, relaxed, and his mind was foggy. He reached out with his fingers and they moved sluggishly against the sheets. He wanted to drift back to sleep, but something kept nagging in that back of his mind that something was not right. There was movement and sound just beyond his perception; they were muted to his senses. He groaned in protest to them. He began to drift again in the ensuing silence and then was dragged back as a clatter reached his ears. It was almost like there a voice that accompanied it as well. He was awake now and struggled to find a better position to fall back asleep. He slept so rarely now that it was a boon when he did. A scream, a woman's scream, brutally snatched him from his dozing. His eyes popped open and for a moment he blinked. The scream had been odd, cut off at the end. He rose up and looked around the room that was not a room. He looked down at the bed that was not a bed and found it in a sorry state, but no Shrine Maiden. He reached out to feel the sheets next to him. They were still warm. She had not gone far. He wanted to hold her again as he did last night. He had to feel her skin against his and touch her beautiful hair again. He fisted the sheet in his hand as his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. He would not give her up so easily for she was his now. She had given herself to him, had she not? If he could not have his Kind or Gaav, then he would have her. The hunt was on. He took the sheet in his fist and ripped it. He moved off the bed-like object and tied the torn sheet about his hips. Walking through the portal he stepped out to find the throne room with his cloths littered on the ground were they had been last night. Her clothes were missing. "Lord Valgaav!" Gravos called as he turned a corner to enter the throne room. Gravos started when he saw his lord. What with his clothing littered haphazardly on the floor, his face twisted in determination, and what looked like a bloody and torn cloth around his waist. "Lord Valgaav?" The ogre uttered tentatively. At last, his lord turned his face towards his, "Yes, Gravos?" Unable to meet his lord's fierce stare, he averted hi eye and tapped his claws against the floor. "Is everything well, My Lord?" Valgaav sighed and moved towards the throne. Seating himself he reached for the memento of his youth and stared at it long and hard before giving his minion and answer. "Presently, no," Valgaav said cryptically, "however, I shall soon remedy that." Gravos looked up at his lord and realized that from the look in his eyes that he was in a place very far away in his own mind. "My Lord Valgaav, what would you have me do?" For a moment his lord remained in that far away place before answering, without looking up from his token of youth, "You may pick up my clothing, Gravos, and have them repaired and laundered." The ogre bowed to Valgaav. "As you wish it, My Lord," he said solemnly. As he began to collect his lord's things he noticed something of a pinkish color on the dais beside the large throne. "My Lord, what is that beside the throne?" Valgaav looked up and searched the area around the throne with his piercing gaze. To the left of him he found Her ribbon. The poor mangled thing was laying twisted on the dais. He remembered that it was his fault and felt guilt well up inside him. Valgaav put the child's toy he held down on the wide armrest to his right and reached down to retrieve her ribbon. Although it was battered and frayed the delicate ribbon was still soft and beautiful in his eyes. As Valgaav twisted it around his fingers he closed his eyes and thought of Her. Valgaav realized that he did not even know her name. He squeezed the ribbon in his fist and frowned. How dare she try and run from him. He would have her for his own again before the day was out. This he vowed to himself as he gently took the ribbon and tied it to the staff of his keepsake. He looked at the now combined objects fondly for a moment. Without warning, Valgaav rose from the throne and paced out of the room. Gravos was left to wonder as that determined look was once again on the face of his lord and master. Questions about the pink ribbon burned in his mind and he asked the now empty room softly, "Lord Valgaav?" __________________________________________________________________ End of Chapter One The Dark Lemon Trilogy: Zozobra: Chapter Two __________________________________________________________________ Part Two: Zozobra Something was awry with the world. Somehow, during the night, Filia had left the inn and gone off on her own somewhere. The questions were where and why? Though another question rode him more savagely. How could he have missed her leaving? He who did not sleep, who could sense her presence... This event threw a monkey wrench into his machinations. And that was a very bad thing. How could he have missed such a singularly important event? How! Perhaps it had been when he was - oya, sore wa himitsu desu! It did not matter now; the only course of action left to take was to go in search of her. In truth, he was the only one who had a real chance of finding her. Besides, the others would not care if he disappeared for a few hours or days. It was his nature to do so after all. However, they would notice Filia's absence. He knew it would not take him days to find her. With all his power gathering around him, he reached out with his senses. Searching for, at the very least, a tendril of her Astral Signature. There. His eyes slid open into familiar slits. He had found a trail of her signature. The corners of his lips turned up. It would lead him to the wayward Golden Ryuzoku. He slowly bared his teeth in the semblance of a smile. He would bring her back from wherever she had gotten herself so that - oya, sore wa...himitsu desu! * * * She teleported as far as she could in her condition, then she ran as fast as possible without toppling over into the sand. The sun was bright and reaching its zenith in the pale blue sky. It was getting hotter and a harsh wind began to sweep across the sand. It lifted the sand up and swirled it, washing the horizon sepia. She finally gave up and collapsed in the sand, her clothing spilled from her hands around her and her headdress slipped off of her head. She lay on her back looking off into the distance. Unconsciously, she slid on her garter and replaced her mace as a matter of course. Maybe if she were lucky she would die out here. She could will herself to die, if she really wanted too. It would only take a few days in this human form. These were the thoughts that plagued her as she ran her fingers lightly through the sand and watched it dance on the wind. Dust devils leapt and twirled as if for her amusement alone. It had been a long while since she last blinked and the sand stung her eyes. Blinking, she felt the gritty sand against them. The discomfort was forgotten as a dark dust devil wove its way through the lighter ones. Her heart and her throat clenched as she felt His presence. Slowly, he stepped into view as he walked towards her. His eyes were hidden by his bangs, and his cloak was whipping in the wind. He came through the flying beige sand like an apparition. "Xellos!" She gasped as a look of utter horror overtook her pallid face. * * * The pain, the suffering...there were delicious. He did not even need to track her by her Astral Signature now. He was very close now, close enough so that she could feel him. As he shifted from his Mazoku form to his human one, he unleashed those senses. He could smell the strong scent of blood, bodily liquids, and, the most overpowering of all, hormones. He could see her broken body lying in the dunes. He also heard the faint sound as she said his name. Looking more closely, Xellos could see her terrified face with her eyes wide and luminous. He cracked a cruel smile as he stood over her, still concealing his eyes from her. She panted as she looked up at him, fear rolling off her in waves. "Look at you, Filia," he said savagely yet quietly, "all bloody and reeking like a whore." Filia blanched at "bloody" and "whore." Xellos continued, "Your hair is dirty and tangled. You are practically covered in blood. Whose blood, I wonder? Yours or His? Both I think. So, you like it rough Filia?" "Stop it," Filia whispered raggedly, but he did not stop. Her suffering was sharper now and even more palatable. Xellos snarled, "I know what you have been doing and I know who you were doing it with. I am far from stupid Filia. I can smell Him on you." Filia was panting now as she struggled up to her knees and choked out, "Shut up! Shut up!" He grabbed her fisted hands at her wrists and held her up. Her position uncomfortable because she was no longer able to kneel and he would not let her stand. Finally, she was able to see his eyes as he thrust his face right in front of hers. This caused him only a slight pause in his diatribe. "Did He tell you the truth, Filia? Did He tell you how your people slaughtered all the Ancient Ryuzoku?" "Namagomi!" She screeched in his face with tears streaming down her own. He merely tightened his hold on her wrists in a painful manner. "How does it feel, Filia, to know that you are worse than I am?" He paused and smiled slowly, "Yes, you see Filia; I killed many Golden and Ancient Ryuzoku during the War of the Monster's Fall, but I have never committed genocide." By now, Filia was shaking her head from side to side, silently denying his words as she sobbed. "All this time, you have hated me, a Mazoku, because of my past deeds. Hated me for simply being a Mazoku! You never missed a chance to taunt ridicule me and each time I silently laughed at you because I knew the truth!" She tore away from Xellos and his malignant face and fell to the ground facing away from him. Filia stumbled upright and tried to take a step, but she tripped over the hem of her cloak and fell forward on her knees. This time she did not have the energy to rise and simply covered her face with her hands. Her sobs racked her hunched shoulders and she choked each time she tried to breathe. Xellos' eyes gleamed triumphantly and he licked his lips. That was quite enough for one day. He closed the distance between them and knelt down behind her. He turned her around to face him and enclosed her in his embrace. Filia tried to shrink away from him, but Xellos would have none of it. He even placed her face under his chin as his hand roamed her back. Soon enough, Filia exhausted herself and passed out in his arms. With staff in hand and Filia in his arms, Xellos stood up in the dancing sand and disappeared. __________________________________________________________________ End of Chapter Two The Dark Lemon Trilogy: Zozobra: Chapter Three __________________________________________________________________ Part Two: Zozobra Xellos returned to the inn when the sun was setting. Lina and the others were still out looking for Filia. They would not return until tomorrow at first light. He placed Filia, wrapped in his cloak, on her bed. He looked at her for a moment and noticed how the black of his cloak faded the color from her flesh. He turned on his heel and left her room, his feet unusually loud as he stepped with determination down the hall and stairs. He located the innkeeper behind his desk and flipped him a large gold coin from the bottom of his purse. The man caught the coin with wide eyes as Xellos ordered, "Fetch a hot bath with all the fixings upstairs to room seventeen." "Yes, Sir!" The innkeeper replied, but Xellos was already walking away. The innkeeper looked at the coin and his jaw dropped. It was an ancient coin, over a thousand years old and extremely valuable. Where had that mysterious priest gotten it? Furtively, so no one saw he pocketed the coin close to his heart and went off to find his housekeeper. Xellos headed back the way he came and entered her room. He did not close the door all the way; he left it just a crack open allowing some light into the windowless room. He paused and looked at the gas lamp that hung on wall next to the small table and chair to the left of the door. It sprung to life and its glow illuminated the face of his sleeping enemy. She must have moved slightly since he had been gone. He had laid her on her back and now she was on her side, facing him. She really did look pitiful. Xellos grabbed hold of the chair and dragged it to the darkest corner of the room. He placed his staff and purse against the wall. His eyes caught the small fireplace opposite the bed. In the blink of an eye it was roaring, casting the room in an eerie crimson darkness. "Hm, rather homey," Xellos said aloud to no one in particular. He went to Filia on the bed and picked her up gently. He sat in the chair, facing the rest of the room, with Filia cradled in his lap and swaddled in his cloak. He waited until the housekeeper's maids began to bring all that he had requested. The housekeeper opened the cracked door and peered into the darkness. She was to supervise the maids in the preparation of this bath. At first she saw nothing in the room. Then her eyes caught what was in the darkest corner of the room and she nearly started. There sat a man whose eyes flashed in the dim light of the fire. In his arms he held a pale, sleeping young woman. He looked for all the world a demon holding a fallen angel captive. The woman jerked herself away from his silent gaze and moved from the doorway to admit the maids carrying the oval tub. More maids followed carrying towels, soaps, washcloths, and all other sundry toiletries. "The hot water will be but a moment more, Sir," the housekeeper told the man who sat in half shadow. Unexpectedly, he asked, "Bring another tub. A wide and round one that is low to the ground." His tone brooked no argument. The housekeeper gave a slight bow when she nodded, "As you wish." As the maids left to retrieve the last requested item, the housekeeper went with them. Anything to get away from that man's presence. Xellos smiled slightly at the woman's discomfort. He turned his attention back to Filia and adjusted his hold on her. He slid his gloved fingers through one of her bangs as he brushed it off of her face. She did not look so good, she was far too pale, her skin almost grey. He watched as her lips parted to breathe more easily. The housekeeper returned with three maids, who were carrying the second tub, and five others, who were carrying buckets of hot and cold water. As the maids set down the remaining bath items and were about to leave, the housekeeper asked, "Will that be all, Sir?" Xellos did not look up as he replied with quiet menace, "That will be all. Now go." The housekeeper hastily nodded and swiftly closed the door behind her. The door locked behind her from the inside. Xellos rose from the chair, still holding Filia, and strode to the bed. He lay Filia on it again and went to the round tub that was brought up. He pulled it next to the fire and began to mix the hot and cold water. Xellos grabbed a wash cloth, soap, shampoo, and a large fluffy yellow towel and placed them by the low tub before he returned to Filia. He set her headdress on the night table and unwrapped her from his cloak. He let it drop to the floor by the foot of the bed and then he slipped off her white boots. He unhooked her cloak and picked her up to get it off. He threw it on top of his. Xellos laid her back on the bed. He noticed the mace strapped to her thigh with a quirked brow and unfastened it. He propped it up against the night stand and slid the garter from her thigh with an impersonal hand. Xellos put that on the night stand as well. He picked her up again and carried her to the tub. Kneeling, Xellos held her with an arm and used his teeth to remove the glove of his free hand. He tested the water with his fingertips. Nodding to himself, Xellos lifted Filia and placed her in the warm water. He let go of her for a moment with the back of her head resting against the rim of the tub. His sleeves had gotten wet and he lifted them dripping from her. He watched the ripples in the settling water as he held out his arms. He watched as Filia slid lower and lower into the tub. Any lower and she would be completely submerged. Then she would drown. Xellos watched as small bubbles began to rise to the surface of the water. His breathing took on a raggedness. Just a little longer and... He had to pull her up now. Grasping Filia under her arms, he hoisted her slight frame out of the water and placed her arms over the sides of the tub. She was still out cold, not knowing how close she had just come to death. If he was going to properly bathe her and succeed in not killing her, Xellos would have to get into the tub as well. He untied the sash at his waist and untucked his shirt. He shrugged it off and threw it by the fire. The sash followed and then he began to slide off his boots. After the ankle ties came off, Xellos shed his pants and socks all at once. He stood before the tub in the buff. Had anyone burst into the room at that moment they would have seen Xellos, with the fireplace behind him, cast in a scarlet silhouette as he loomed ominously over the pallid form of Filia, naked in the tub. Reaching down, he picked up Filia under her arms again, allowing himself enough room to kneel in the warm water. He pulled her onto his lap and grabbed all her hair to tie it into a messy, half-wet knot at her crown. Xellos leaned Filia against his chest, her cheek on his shoulder and her face under his jaw. He reached behind himself with his free hand and grabbed the wash rag. He reached back for the soap as the washcloth slowly sank into the red tinted water before picking it up again. Then he passed the soap through the surface of the water, wetting it thoroughly and lathering the soap between his palms and the washcloth. He could feel her breathing against him. Xellos dropped the soap into the water and let it float as he passed the soapy rag over Filia's face and neck. For the first time he noticed the bite mark on between her shoulder and neck. He cleaned that area very carefully. Sliding the cloth lower, he washed her shoulders, breasts, and stomach. He moved then to soap up each arm. Tilting her forward to rest against his one arm, Xellos passed the rag from over her shoulder blades to the small of her back. Xellos let the washcloth drop back into the water and lowered Filia off his lap. He dipped her back into the water to rinse the soap off her body. With most of the suds on the water and not the rag, he smoothed the soap away from Filia's face with the rag. Repositioning Filia against the rim of the low tub with her arms over the sides, Xellos picked up her lower body by her hips. Scooting forward, he placed her buttocks against his thighs with her legs spread out on both sides of him. He carefully washed between her thighs using the wash rag gently. After a small examination he determined that there was only a slight amount of tearing and that she would be physically fine. Xellos lathered the washcloth once again and began to wash her thighs and hips. Reaching under and lifting her by the small of her back, Xellos washed Filia's buttocks. Settling her back down he washed her feet. Splashing most of the soap off of her, Xellos sat her upright in the low tub. Due to the heat of the water, her skin had taken on a healthy looking flush. Most would have found it to be an improvement from the corpse-like greyness her skin was toned from before. He pulled her onto his lap with one arm secured beneath her shoulders and Xellos took Filia's hair out of the messy bun. He tilted her head back and splashed her hair with a cupped hand until the whole of it was wet. He swished her hair softly in the water to loosen the small patches of matted blood. Dipping her head even further down, he ran his nails lightly over her scalp to wash out the stale scent of fear sweat. Filia moaned slightly and turned her head toward his slowly moving hand. "I wonder, did your mama use to wash your hair like this Filia?" Xellos asked, knowing he would receive no answer. He scratched Filia behind an ear and lifted her up again. Xellos reached behind himself with his free hand and grabbed the shampoo. He leaned Filia against his chest again, her cheek on his shoulder and her face under his jaw. He could feel each breath she took as her breasts moved against his chest. Xellos dropped the shampoo bottle behind him on the floor and began to scrub his fingers through Filia's golden mass of hair. After it was sufficiently sudsy, he dipped her head back again and rinsed her hair. When he was done with that task he stood up in the tub and brought Filia up with him. Bending over he reached for one of the buckets that had had hot water in it. Its bottom scraped against the wood floor as Xellos brought it near. He tested the water and, seeing that it had cooled only slightly to pleasant warmth, dumped it over Filia and himself. It was sufficient in rinsing all the soapy water from them. Setting the bucket back down, Xellos also spread out the yellow towel on the floor before the low tub. With Filia's knees now over his other arm, Xellos stepped from the water and onto the towel. Walking over to the high-backed oval tub, he deposited Filia there and reached for another towel. Wrapping it around his waist, he moved behind Filia to gather up her hair. Reaching for a yellow towel, he wrapped her dripping hair up in it. Moving to the remaining buckets of hot water, Xellos tested their warmth and found them to be satisfactory. He brought two at a time to the oval tub and slowly poured the water in by Filia's feet. When the water was up to her armpits, Xellos started to rummage through all the scented bath products. Finding and intricately detailed pink glass vile, he uncorked it and sniffed. It was a very strong musk that reminded him of Juu-ou-sama. Perhaps he would give it to her at a later date. He pocketed the vile and searched through others. Finding a yellow and gold one he uncorked it and smelled vanilla. He shook his head as he replaced the vile. Not for Filia; not anymore. Finally, he spied a purple vile a bit larger than the others. This one had silver and gold flowers on it and a glass top that screwed into the bottle. After carefully unscrewing the top, Xellos sniffed the scent. It was a pleasant combination of peach, mango, sunflower, and morning glory. It was perfect. He poured a small amount into Filia's bath water and decided to just let her soak for a while. He went to sit directly in front of the fire, to watch the flames dance. He could watch those flames for hours, imagining anything within their fiery depths. He could see her there, dancing in the fire. Xellos could see Filia in the inferno. Her hair floated around her as he made out the curves of her body as she moved. She turned a certain way as if to face him and her hand moved before her. It looked as if she was pointing at him and her face swung towards his. Then she opened her eyes and looked at him. Jerking himself from the trance, Xellos blinked and she was gone. Xellos reached out his hand toward the flames, putting his hand inside the fire. The blaze licked against him like the wind; a teasing touch and nothing else. It was just an ordinary fire, but for a moment, he had thought it was something more. He pulled his hand out, unharmed. Sliding his gaze over to Filia in the tub, he could tell that the water was beginning to chill. Grabbing the largest towel he could, Xellos lifted her from the tub. He wrapped her up in the towel and sat once more before the hearth while he cradled Filia in his lap. Xellos rubbed his hands over the towel to dry Filia. He took off the yellow towel he had wrapped around her head. Her damp hair tumbled from its confines and ticked his arm. It was a shame that he did not know where she kept her comb. Xellos would have to hand-comb her hair for the time being. He ran his fingers through her hair, loosening the tangles as best he could as her hair dried from the warmth of the fire. Finally, Filia was dried, groomed, and ready for bed. Setting Filia on the floor, Xellos went and dressed himself. He had no clue if Filia had any clothes with her or not so he just left her in the towel for the time being. When he called the maids back to remove the bathing items he would ask for a nightgown for Filia. For the time being he just unwrapped her from the towel and placed her under the bed sheets. Once again Xellos left the room and descended the staircase in search of the innkeeper. His request to have the tubs and whatnot removed was soon taken care of and the innkeeper's daughter loaned him a nightgown for Filia. Back in Filia's room, after all the maids had left, Xellos pulled the sheets down from Filia and dressed her in the long-sleeved, high necked, white nightgown. He was glad for the high neck of the nightgown, even if its virginal color no longer suited Filia, for it would conceal the nasty and bruised bite mark on her neck. After settling her in bed once more, Xellos dragged the chair that he had left in the corner of the room to Filia's bedside. Xellos would sit by her bed all night with his staff cradled in his lap until the others returned. He had to keep a close eye on her. He wondered how all hell would break loose tomorrow at first light. There was still time though, for him to come up with a convincing story for Filia to tell them. Naturally, he would back up her story with a bit of his creative truth telling, but still they were all walking a very fine and dangerous knife-edge at the moment. There was no way of knowing what might happen next. End of Chapter Three The Dark Lemon Trilogy: Zozobra: Chapter Four __________________________________________________________________ Part Two: Zozobra He sat alone in the friskilating darkness among the dancing motes. The constant clacking, like a clock ticking time away, was the only sound save his breathing. He was once more in his late lord's throne; his unfocused eyes did not register the room around him. His brooding presence was a tangible thing in the room, far more powerful than the darkness. Valgaav was having one of his more lucid moments. His thoughts dwelt on his little female. She had run from him and he had followed her through their newly formed bond as best he could. He had followed her faint trail out into the desert where it had suddenly gone cold. All he had found were some of her clothes half buried in the blowing sand. Oh, he knew why. It was that bastard Xellos' doing. He was not worried, however, he knew in time he would find her. Then he would dispose of that detestable Xellos forever, in one bloody swipe. One bloody swipe… The thought held implications far beyond measure. That is how it had happened, had it not? The screams of the wounded indiscernible from the shrieking of weapons. The fire and the ice. Huddled against Mother's warm belly for safety. She had held her wing over his head, hiding him from view and trying to hide the view from him. Nothing bad would happen to him. Mother would protect him and keep him safe. His small clumsy fingers clutching and grabbing fistfuls of puffy dove gray. Everything trembling as he pressed his face into her soft and downy feathers. The noise and the terror stronger than the scent of blood in the air, and then the quite. Not a silence…a quiet. It was different. Something was very wrong. He pressed his face further into her feathers and breathed in her scent. This was Mother. Nothing bad would happen; she would keep him safe. It had started to grow cold. Maybe the sun was setting and it was time for sleeping and dreaming. He wanted to go home. He was hungry and tired and wanted to be hugged. Why was it so cold? He tried to get up but he had to crawl out from under Mother's stiff wing. Why was she just lying there? Why was there blood everywhere? Why did no one move? Why was it so quiet? He pushed Mother's shoulder and called her. Nothing happened. He did it again and again. Each time the movement was more frantic. And he was screaming now, "Mother, Mother!" He crawled over another dragon, someone he did not know, to see Mother's face. He cried out to her and picked up her face in his hands. He nuzzled her beak with his cheek, but she was not passing breath. He looked more closely into her face and glassy eyes stared at nothing. Screaming, he dropped her face and fell away. That thing was not Mother. Mother was never cold or stiff. Mother had never looked like that. Never. Where was Mother? What had happened? Where was everybody? What where all these things looking like people only not lying on the ground? It was starting to snow and it was cold and he was hungry and tired and he wanted to go home and he wanted Mother. Nothing bad would happen if only Mother would come for him. He was crying now, sobbing hysterically. Why would no one come? Where was Mother? Why was he all alone? It was getting darker and colder and the snow was falling heavier. It was so quiet out there. Hysterical sobbing subsided to tired, defeated sobbing. No one was coming for him, not even Mother. Why? What had happened? What was wrong? He could not understand. Why? Why? Why? And now he sobbed "Mother, Mother, Mother" over and over, brokenly. Was still sobbing "Mother, Mother, Mother" brokenly as tears rained down his scared cheeks. His clackers had never ceased or faltered during the memory even though he was still quaking from the after shocks. His chest heaved softly from the sobs and he was sweating profusely. His body temperature had risen sufficiently to make his entire body steam in the cool throne room. It would not be until later and not all at once that he would understand the lessons taught to him that day. Death. Grief. Suffering. Isolation. Murder. Destruction. Coldness. Hunger. Pain. Insecurity. Insomnia. Loss. Panic. Paranoia. Hate. Madness. It was not right, it was not fair. It just was. Why? And the rest, as they say, was silent. It had been a long while since he had remembered that. Valgaav calmed himself by breathing deeply. Such thoughts were not conductive to regaining his Ojou-san. He must lock those memories away again. He thought deliberately about Her. His little female smelled of something sweet and gentle. It was a fragrance he had never encountered before. It was so light that it teased his senses. He wished he knew what it was. Valgaav could not help but wonder why she had fled. By rights, she belonged to him. She had given herself up to him of her own free will. She was bound by her own honor to stay by his side. It could not have been because of their first night. He had been gentle with her, unlike his own first night with Gaav-sama. While Gaav-sama had been a considerate lover, he had not been a gentle one. Her relationship with him was not unlike the one he had with Gaav-sama. He had willingly put himself in Gaav-sama's hands that first night. He had offered up his own free will to his lord. There had been no love at first, but that did not stop him from putting his complete trust in his lord. The weak must have protectors. This was a fact of life. The world was a violent place where might made right; where you would either take or be taken. Gaav-sama himself had once said something to the effect of, "No matter how right you think you are, you are helpless in the face of insurmountable odds." This he acknowledged, but there were thoughts that he would not acknowledge even to himself. Yes, other thoughts. His dark thoughts; sick thoughts that hid in his mind and seemingly forever lurked like a white tiger. Thoughts of destruction and oblivion that he even hid from the Overworld God Almace. Although, he could not hide such thoughts from Almace forever, even now, Valgaav knew that he was becoming suspicious. It did not matter anymore. Valgaav allowed himself a lop-sided grin. Soon, very soon, the situation would change drastically. Valgaav could feel it prodding incessantly at his senses. All he had to do was wait and the moment of triumph would arrive. Yes, all he need do was wait and she would come to him. Clack…clack…clack… * * * It was just before dawn and the pale light was already creeping outside. She was slowly waking up from her slumber with the feeling that it was better to just stay in bed. A small nagging feeling that made the bed seem far too soft and warm to move from. The incessant pressing of wakefulness had other ideas, however. As she became more aware of her surroundings, she could hear the chorus of birds, just outside her windowless room. The sound was most likely coming down through the chimney. Finally, she fluttered her eyes open drearily and looked at the opposite wall. That is when it hit her, hard. All the thoughts and memories from the previous night crushed in on her mind and made her stomach a hollow pit. She fiercely closed her eyes and gathered herself close together. She choked on her sharp intake of breath and gasped on the exhale. She stayed like that a moment without breathing. It suddenly seemed too difficult a task to simply breathe. Xellos was watching Filia as she awoke from her slumber. Her arms went stiff, her breathing much too quick and then suddenly stopping all together, and her face puckered in near anguish. He spoke, "Filia." A jolt went through her at the sound of her name on Xellos' lips. She started breathing again, even if it was in a gasping rush and slightly erratic. Filia took a deep breath, held it, and finally let it out slowly as she relaxed her entire body. Mere moments later she fluttered her lashes open and stared at the ceiling. It suddenly seemed easier to breathe, but that empty feeling in her belly would not go away. It seemed she had to suck every breath deep inside her to satisfy that hollow. "What are you going to tell them, Filia?" Xellos spoke again. She slid her gaze from the ceiling to his face. His somber face with, for once, unsmiling lips and serious eyes. Those terrible eyes meeting her gaze. Valavazard, what was she going to tell Lina and the others? Saijuro-san and everyone else? Suddenly, a crazed thought took hold of her mind. "You are not going to tell them, are you? Are you?" Filia managed to choke out. Xellos could feel the cloying touch of fear and panic from her. Xellos smirked at this and lowered his head, chin to chest, to shadow his eyes momentarily. The single lamp glowing did not give much light. Looking up at her again he stated simply, "Why should I tell them anything?" Filia was not listening. "You cannot tell them, nobody has to know. Nobody, nobody can know. Do you understand? No one-" Xellos cut her off, "No one would believe me. Besides, I have no reason to tell Lina-san. Yet. So what are you going to tell the others?" Filia calmed down slightly, her face regaining some softness. She sat up and moistened her lips. "I do not know what to say to them. I, we, have to think of something. Maybe, maybe I went out for a walk and I, I got lost. I had to sleep outside on the ground and I got sick from being outside at night in the cool air for so long. How is that? Is that well enough?" Filia rushed through her explanations as fast as she thought of them. Xellos sat there a moment thinking. He formed his hands into a steeple and brought them to his lips as he ducked his face from the limited light once again. He sat, just like that, for a moment that, to Filia, seemed to last an eternity. Startling her slightly, he looked up unexpectedly with his genki as usual expression and said, "I think that will work!" At first, Filia did not believe him. How he could be so serious one moment and so…usual the next. Xellos cocked his head to one side, still smiling, at her look of confusion. "And…and, you will not tell anyone?" Filia asked timidly, whispering. Xellos cocked his head to the other side after giving his head a quick negative shake. Filia was not quick to believe him. To trust Xellos was foolish. "What assurance can I possibly have from you?" Xellos did not expect such a question from Filia. Or rather, he did not expect the directness of it. Time to bring out the big spells, so to speak. Xellos said softly, still holding his expression in place, "It could be our little secret." Filia pursed her lips, thinking a second as she stared off into space. A secret of Xellos' was as good as a promise. As good as, if not better, than gold. She looked back up at Xellos again. He opened one of his eyes and pointed to it saying, "Though I am mazoku, Filia, I always honor my secrets." Xellos finished with a smile and Filia could not help but believe him. A moment of silence passed and then it was broken by a commotion downstairs. No doubt Lina and company were back from their midnight investigation. Xellos, of course, knew this beforehand. After regaining his genki mask, he stood and began to phase out. "Wait! Xellos! Where are you going?" Filia cried out. Xellos reappeared floating above the chair he had sat in by her bed. He shrugged saying, "It would not be good for either of us for me to hang around for Lina-san and the others. Ja!" He flashed out of sight once more, leaving Filia alone. Alone to face them all in her greatest moment of crisis. __________________________________________________________________ End of Chapter Four

to be continued...