navy = flashback
The distant sound of quiet sobbing, interspersed with equally quiet curses, continued to guide Zelgadis long after Gourry's footsteps had faded into silence, each expletive, choke, and sniffle piercing his tough hide with an ease unrivaled by any spell or edged weapon. As quietly as he could, he moved down the narrow game trail he had found until he finally spied a thatch of gold, shining with a brilliance that no coin could ever hope to match, in a small clearing where the canopy thinned enough for the sunshine to reach the forest floor.
Gourry.
Oh, lord, what was he considering?
Zelgadis stumbled over an exposed root which had crept onto the path, but managed to recover his balance before he landed on his rear. Cautiously, he fixed his attention back on the man in the clearing, but Gourry did not seem to have noticed his mishap. He continued to sit cross-legged in the center of the glade, his head in his hands, his face obscured by his heavy mane of hair.
Slowly, Zelgadis stepped off the path and placed his back against the trunk of the tree which had nearly tripped him. He was so afraid. There had to be some other way to help Gourry.
As close as Zelgadis felt to Gourry, Lina, and Amelia, he was certain that the feeling was not mutual, which was as it should be. He purposefully held himself apart from them, revealing as little about himself as he could get away with, so that they would never learn what kind of creature they had taken in and befriended.
How could he tell them; how could he tell him!
If they learned all that lay beneath the surface of his skin of stone, he would lose them, and Zelgadis was so deathly afraid of losing any of them, more afraid of that than he had ever been of his grandfather.
He couldn't, just could not.
Zelgadis' admiration for Gourry had, since the time of their meeting, deepened first to affection, and finally to love. The fact that someone so strong could also be so caring and kind had captivated him. The reality that someone so beautiful and possessing such a rich existence had not hesitated to invite him to share a small part of his life, had won the swordsman the fierce reverence and adoration that his grandfather had never been able to elicit.
How could he risk Gourry?
"Damn, damn, damn!"
Zelgadis flinched, each angry curse striking him like a barb, then peeked around the trunk of the tree. Gourry's clenched hands rested on the forest floor at his sides, but even as he watched, they rose and fisted in the hair at his temples.
He had lost track of what was important again, led astray by the demons within him. He knew of no other way to help Gourry and needed to stop wasting time once and for all!
Offering up a prayer, both for deliverance and for forgiveness, to whatever deity happened to be listening, Zelgadis squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and pushed through the last of the brush between himself and the glade. He froze as Gourry lurched to his feet and stood there quivering, staring back at him over his shoulder, poised like some wild thing on the edge of flight. He lost himself in the other man's feral eyes, unsure of how he should proceed, until the swordsman whirled and sprang for the far side of the clearing.
"Wait, Gourry!" Zelgadis cried, crashing forward a few steps before stopping again. "Please, don't run!" It was not as if he could not catch the swordsman, but he would not utilize his speed, his spells, or his strength to do so unless forced. "Please," he quietly repeated, raising one hand in supplication when the swordsman paused at the edge of the glade.
"What do you want, Zelgadis?"
"Just for you to stay," Zelgadis answered, ignoring the animosity in the swordsman's voice. "I want to talk to you."
"Talk."
"Yes," Zelgadis confirmed, wincing at the harsh bark of laughter his answer ripped from Gourry's chest.
"There's nothing to talk about!"
"Gou -- "
"Go away, Zelgadis. I don't want you to see me like this."
"Like what?" Zelgadis asked softly, risking two more small steps in the swordsman's direction. "Crying?"
"Pretty stupid, huh? Full grown man and a merc to boot bawling his eyes out like a babe."
"No," Zelgadis whispered. He cleared his throat uneasily, then swallowed hard, raised his voice and more firmly repeated, "No, not at all. I -- I'd cry myself if I had any more tears left to shed."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Jus -- just that I've been where you are now, and -- "
"Oh, sure! You've been where I am now? The 'heartless, mystical swordsman'? Don't lie to me, Zelgadis!"
"But, I'm not," Zelgadis protested, pulling his cloak all the way closed. Fearing he would falter if he could see Gourry's eyes, he dropped his own to the ground as the swordsman began to turn towards him, then continued, "Wha -- what Fibrizzo did to you was once d -- done to me. Re -- " Zelgadis choked on the name, unable to speak it, then sucked in a huge breath and forced himself to finish. "I know what you're feeling. I spent all my tears on myself long ago, b -- but if I had any left, I'd not hesitate to shed more for you."
The silence of a crypt descended on the tiny glade, absolute and complete, as if even the forest denizens were afraid to break it. Zelgadis held himself rigid, barely breathing, controlling his own flight instinct, the drumming of his heart measuring each second as it ticked by.
"I don't believe you."
"Wha -- ?"
"I don't believe you!!"
"B -- but, you have to!" Zelgadis cried, floundering as he tried to absorb the impact of the swordsman's harsh, tear-roughened assertion. Of all the reactions he had expected Gourry to have, outright skepticism was not one of them.
"I thought you were my friend, Zelgadis. How dare you lie to me?"
"I -- I'm not! Gourry, I -- I know how you feel right n -- "
"Fuck that! You're so sure of yourself and your abilities. You're so fucking powerful, almost as powerful as Lina. Nobody touches you! Nobody uses you! How could you possibly know how I feel?"
"I -- "
"You don't even know what it's like to be controlled by one of those crystal things that Eris used!"
"But, Gourry! I do -- "
"I don't even remember attacking Lina then. This time was so different. F -- Fibrizzo didn't just control me, he took -- "
You wish to be strong, Zelgadis? Help me. Help me search for the Philosopher's Stone.
The soft, seductive whisper tempted Zelgadis' eyes shut as it crawled through the crack he had made in the barricade behind which he trapped his memories and twined itself around Gourry's anger distorted voice.
"God, he took -- "
"Everything," Zelgadis interrupted, "He took all that you are. He took your very soul and warped it to his will." His shoulders drew together as the whisper gained volume, strengthening until its melodic inflection was unquestionably his grandfather's.
I will grant you power beyond imagination. I will give you all you desire. You will be completely transformed.
Now. You. Are. Mine.
"An -- and he used me -- he made me -- "
"Do things which sickened you. He used you against those th -- that you cared most about."
Ah! Zelgadis drew in his breath with a sharp gasp as a kaleidoscopic mix of color and sound burst through the crack, widening it to a gaping breach, assaulting his senses and wrenching him out of the present.
"You will do anything I wish, Zelgadis."
The soft voice of the man sprawled in a nearby chair, his red robes fanned out wide, was
barely audible to Zelgadis over the sound of his own sharp panting breaths.
No, please, get up, Rodimus!
Silently, Zelgadis pleaded with his guardian, the man who had raised him after his
parents had died when he was a toddler. But, though his muscles trembled and stood out in
sharp relief, the older gentleman could not defeat the compulsion which held him motionless.
No. Don't want to -- Nooooo!!
Zelgadis' scream echoed only in his mind as he saw a slim, green-blue hand lower and use
the ornate dagger it held to carve intricate patterns in the flesh of the naked, kneeling man.
Please.
A pleading whisper, eliciting a chuckle from Rezo when he sensed it.
So, s -- so -- sorry!
A hysterical, inconsolable cry. One which the bloody man tried to soothe and quiet as he
rocked the sobbing chimera child after the Red Priest had released them both.
"And, I -- I knew what -- "
"You were doing," Zelgadis finished.
Where did the voice come from? Who did it belong to? It was not Rezo's, not any part of his grandfather's lesson.
It did not matter.
The voice, impregnated with anguish, demanded a response from Zelgadis. "You were fully aware of everything you did and everyone you did it to. Everyone! Man, woman, and ch -- child."
You will punish them, Zelgadis.
The voice was soft and implacable, belonging to the parasite lodged in his brain.
No! Let me try again! Zelgadis silently, frantically pleaded, his grandfather's
intention inducing a moment of lucidity. Please, he continued, heedless of his master's
surprise that he dared to protest an order for the first time in years.
A long pause, during which the trembling man and his wife stared up at him and the object
he cradled in his arms, during which Zelgadis inwardly cowered, the pressure of Rezo's
displeasure building until it saturated his senses.
Very well, the voice intoned, relieving the pressure and freeing his vocal chords.
"Where is it?"
Deep within the prison of his mind and body, Zelgadis recoiled from the menace distorting
the voice, hardly recognizing it as his own.
"You will tell me!"
Please, Zelgadis silently begged the man, Tell me! Give me something! Make it up! Don't
make me --
They are wasting our time. Punish them, Zelgadis.
No! Please! Horrified and helpless, Zelgadis heard the faint creak of leather as his
hand tightened around the neck of the small child he held, a neck that felt as frail as that
of a bird to golem skin and mazoku strength. Please, grandfather! He's just a --
"You disappoint. His life is forfeit," Zelgadis heard himself growl.
Crack!
He's just a baby, Zelgadis soundlessly wailed as his fingers flexed, snapping the child's
neck as easily as if it were a twig. No! He's just a babe!
You disappoint as well, Zelgadis. Return.
The threat in that voice, and the terror response it invoked, drowned out the shrill,
hysterical screams of the mother as he dropped the rag doll limp body of her child to the
floor, then turned and walked away.
"It was -- it was like not being able to wake -- "
"From a nightmare."
Again, the voice. Echoing around Zelgadis. Seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. Still requiring a response from him.
"And I c -- couldn't resist him. Every time I tried, he -- "
"Hurt you," Zelgadis managed, his breath catching as the fingers of agony which were never far from him teasingly caressed his torso and limbs. "It was so easy for him to hurt you. He controlled everything. He could send pain to each nerve."
"It hurt so bad, Zel, and I couldn't -- it -- I stop -- "
"Stopped trying to resist him," Zelgadis whispered, stiffening as his senses were seized by dread.
"You will submit, Zelgadis."
Somehow, the perfectly matter-of-fact tone of the mellifluous voice penetrated the sea of
red which had enveloped Zelgadis.
"You will submit, or you will be punished."
No! I will not!
Pain.
Pain which skittered like spiders across Zelgadis' bare skin.
"Submit, Zelgadis. Assume the position I desire."
No! Won't! Not that!
More pain.
Pain gaining intensity, lancing through Zelgadis' chest and out to each extremity as he
fought with everything in him to prevent his body from moving.
"You're trying my patience, Zelgadis. One last time. Accommodate me."
No! You can't want! Please. You. Are. My. Grandfather.
Pain.
"No. I am your master."
Pain crossing the final boundary and mutating into excruciating agony. Zelgadis' body
convulsed as every nerve was set afire.
"Don't fight me, Zelgadis. You are mine. Your purpose is to serve me. If you please me,
this will stop."
Screams, raw and blood-soaked, assaulted Zelgadis' sensitive ears, then slowly
degenerated into hoarse whimpers.
"Enough! As pleasurable as this is, Zelgadis, it is not the pleasure I seek and you know
that. Are you ready now?"
His muscles twitching and trembling, Zelgadis struggled to pull his knees beneath
himself, then spread them wide. Though wetness soaked the carpeting beneath his cheek, he
held himself stiff and still until Rezo achieved satiation.
"Good boy, Zelgadis."
"An -- and I just -- wanted to -- "
"Die," Zelgadis finished, though the voice was fading. "Because death is preferable to facing what you have become."
"Bu -- but he won't -- he wouldn't -- "
"Let you die," Zelgadis whispered, straining to hear the voice, "In the little scraps of freedom he allows you, you try to kill yourself, but you don't succeed. You pray for death to find you, but it does not. He protects you too well. He takes great care to see that none of his other minions deal you damage so severe he cannot heal you after you are given to them. He has taught you too well for any adversary to get the better of you."
"God, Zelgadis."
Where was the voice? Why did it not sound in its turn?
sh'ting
Zelgadis cringed, hearing instead the tinkle of rings on the end of a staff.
Please, answer me! He's coming!
Sh'Ting!
Please, where are you? Don't leave me alone with --
SH'TING!!!
Red robes.
Enshrouding.
Shadows descending.
The mind retreats.
No! Don't want to!
"Zel?"
The ravening monster.
Don't let the beast loose!
Please, don't hurt me!
"Zelgadis?"
Do anything.
Be eyes, arm; be thrall, bond slave, whore.
Just, please don't...
"Zel! God, Zel, wake up!"
Shaking. Tiny thing. All that's left.
Please...
"Zelgadis, come back to me!"