"There are two kinds of light: The glow that illumines and the glare that obscures." - James Thurber
Lina opened her eyes and stared into the darkness. She wondered how long she'd slept this time; there was no way to tell time in this benighted place. She closed them again and fought back the overwhelming desire to scream. It wouldn't help and somehow she felt that it would just please Xellos. Something she didn't want to do.
She sighed and pushed herself up out of the little nest she'd made in the velvet draperies. Her hair fell around her face and she lifted her hand to push it away. She must look a sight, she thought to herself. Her dress was holding up well, but her hair was probably in ruins by now.
As she pressed her hand to her face, she froze and sensed that something was not right. Was it with her face? She pressed her hand against it. It didn't seem to be - Then she realized she was feeling her skin under her hand.
Jerking her hand away, she held them up and looked at them both. Her right one was still the same, but the left one - The left one was gloveless. And, more importantly, the ring on her finger was gone!
Panic gripped her and she flung herself back and up, ripping at the draperies in her search for the glove. How had this happened? she cried to herself, gathering up the yards and yards of material and shaking them out. Nothing.
"No," she said. "Nononono..." Over and over she repeated that litany as she shredded the draperies in her desperation. When that proved unprofitable, she picked up her skirts and shook them until she could hear the seams rip.
"Where did it go?" she sobbed, still refusing to believe it was gone. But searching for it proved useless. It was gone.
"Lose something?" a voice asked from the darkness.
She whirled around, tripping in the process and collapsing in a heap. Looking up, she found Xellos standing behind her, his face set and angry looking.
"I - No," she gulped out in defiance.
"But I heard you distinctly say, 'Where did it go.' That implies that you've lost something. Tell me, Lina-san, what did you lose?" He moved towards her.
She scuttled backwards, losing one of her shoes as she fought to get her feet under her. The long skirts of her dress conspired against her and all she could do was continue to retreat crab-like before him.
"Why are you resisting me so much, Lina-san?" Xellos asked, his hand reaching out with the quickness of a snake and grabbing her wrist. He hauled her to her feet and caught her around the waist with his other arm. "There's so much I can give you, so much more than you can ever dream of, and I'm tired of waiting for you to accept it." Without waiting for an answer, he pressed his lips against hers in a brutal kiss.
Lina fought him, using her fingernails to claw at his skin and kicking him with her small feet. Nothing fazed him and he bore her to the floor, reaching downwards and gathering up her skirts. She panicked when she felt his gloved hand on her leg. Reaching out blindly, her questing fingers found the slipper that she'd lost. Gripping it tightly, she brought it around and hit Xellos hard on the temple with the low heel. He started and drew back, giving her an opening.
Words, unknown words that had a familiar feel to them, forced their way out of her mouth without her knowing where they came from. "Dil Brando!" she shouted, pointing her hands at him and firing the spell point blank. She had a moment's satisfaction to see shock and confusion on his face, but it didn't last long. As the spell flared, she scrambled up, picked up her skirts and ran as fast as her legs could carry her.
Of course, however, there wasn't very far to run in this place. She eventually found the room with the table and darted inside. Collapsing against the doors, she sank to the floor amid the wreckage of her skirts. "Gourry," she gulped brokenly. "Where are you?" She put her face in her hands and sobbed.
Zelgadis and Amelia put their packs down in the little room that Jarix had shown them to. It was just as spartan as the rest of the place: A low bed that was really only a pallet, a bench, and a table. The single candle they had did little to relieve the gloom. Amelia set it on the table and sank down on to the pallet, took off her boots and sighed.
"Amelia?" Zelgadis turned her name into a question as he sat down next to her. "What is it?"
"I'm just exhausted, that's all," she said. "It's been a long month. A long, emotionally exhausting month."
The Chimera nodded and put his arm around her and pulled her close. "I agree. I'll be glad when we're back in Seyruun." He smiled, an ironic half-smile. "I never expected to hear myself say that," he said.
The Princess relaxed against him. "It's nice to hear. But, Zelgadis-san..." she said softly.
"What is it, Amelia?"
She was silent a moment before she answered. "I'm worried about Gourry-san. He's...He's so changed from what he normally is; harder, angrier, more frightening. He gets worse every day. I've never seen him threaten someone like he threatened Jarix-san. Even if we get Lina-san back, will he be the same as he was?"
It was Zelgadis' turn to sigh. He turned his face into her hair and shut his eyes. "I don't know, Amelia," he said. "All we can do is hope."
"He was so cold and distant when he and Jarix-san came back. I wonder what they were talking about."
"Probably what Gourry's going to have to do to get this sword. It can't be very easy to get or someone would have already claimed the sword by now." He hugged her then kicked off his boots. "Come on," he said, sliding back onto the pallet and pulling her down beside him. "Let's get some sleep. I'm beat."
Amelia let him pull her into his arms and hold him close. As she rested her cheek against his chest, she turned her thoughts to her friends. She said a silent prayer to Ceiphied, hoping he would hear her and somehow be able to help.
In the next little room, Gourry leaned against the wall as he sat upon his pallet with his sword was laid out across his knees. He'd spent over an hour honing it to the sharpest edge he could manage with his whetstone; now it lay sheathed and silent and ready for battle. He'd untied the maroon scarf from the hilt and held it bunched between his hands while he stared at the flame that danced on the wick of the candle nearby. He didn't often feel the need to meditate, but what Jarix had told him had shaken him badly. He needed this sword, but would he be able to win it, and would the price be too high? Jarix hadn't been able to explain what he'd meant by the price being everything that made him the person he was, so how was he supposed to decide if it was too high a price or not?
Closing his eyes, Gourry leaned his head back against the wall. What else was he supposed to do? If he didn't go after and win the sword, the month they'd waited would be wasted. Lina would still be in Xellos' possession, and he would be no closer to getting his wife back. During their journey, he wondered what it was that Xellos had done to Lina to keep her from freeing herself and had decided that anything that kept Lina Inverse from her goal was not something he wanted to think about.
So here he was, the night before the full moon, his confidence shaken badly when he needed it most. He drew a deep, shuddering breath as he fought with the demons in his mind that threatened to overwhelm him and push him over the brink into madness. To combat them, he pulled up the happy memories he kept close to his heart, turning them over and reliving them, most of them involving Lina.
Unconsciously, he reached out along the link he and Lina had shared for longer than either of them had realized. He felt it open and then gasped as terror, panic and despair so acute it wrenched at his heart poured through it. His eyes flew open and he jerked backwards against the wall, sword sliding down and onto the floor as he fought against that onslaught. "Oh, gods...no," he mouthed, unable to find his voice. The harsh, knife-sharp emotions clutched at his throat, wrenching gulping sobs from him. He gripped the wooden frame of the pallet until the wood creaked.
By the time the attack had passed, he was left covered in sweat and gasping for breath. How...What was that? He slumped down on the pallet, gripping the maroon scarf tightly. Unfortunately, he knew what it was; he'd been feeling what Lina had been feeling at the moment he tried to contact her. He closed his eyes and turned his face to the mattress as sobs, this time his own, overtook him.
"It's close to moonrise," Jarix said, coming through the double doors and approaching the table where the three companions were sitting. Amelia and Zelgadis looked up then back at Gourry, whose face looked haggard and drawn. He hadn't told them what happened last night, it had been too painful and too much like a failure on his part.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Zelgadis asked.
Looking at his friend, Gourry nodded. "I've no other choice. If I don't, we've wasted a month. Who knows what Xellos has been doing to Lina during this time." He stood up and picked his sword up off the table where he'd laid it. Strapping it to his sword belt, he turned to face Jarix while his friends stood as well. "I'm ready." The priest nodded and led the way through the double doors and up to the Temple, Gourry then Zelgadis and Amelia following close behind him.
In the Temple, Jarix led them across to the glassed-in archway directly across from the stairs. The three of them looked around in amazement: The previous night's storm had passed and now the sky was a deep, dark blue. The stars shone like scattered diamonds across that deep blue velvet of the sky.
Jarix stopped just in front of the archway and touched his staff to it. There was a crystalline sound, then the glass parted into two panels and opened outwards. The three of them stepped back, expecting the chill mountain air to come rushing in, but there was no change in the temperature. Looking back at them, Jarix smiled. "This door doesn't let out onto the physical dimension; it's another one altogether. On the night of the full moon, the two planes are so close they touch in this one spot. That's where the Temple of Light is." He gestured towards the sheer expanse of stone that rose sharply into the sky across the valley. "Remember, time does not function the same in that dimension as it does here. If you're caught inside the Temple when the moon sets, you'll be trapped."
Gourry nodded and gripped the hilt of his sword. He looked up at the mountain behind which the moon was now hidden, when he felt a small hand on his arm. Looking down, he saw Amelia looking up at him with her eyes large and full of concern for him.
"Good luck, Gourry-san. I know you'll be able to do it." She hugged him quickly then stepped back. Zelgadis took her place.
"As Amelia said, good luck." The Chimera held out his sword arm to the other man. Gourry extended his own and they gripped each other's forearms.
"Thank you, both of you." He turned back to Jarix, who stood waiting patiently by the archway.
It didn't take long for the moon to appear, though to Gourry it seemed an eternity. The round disc of the moon slid over the edge of the mountain just to the right of the summit and the Temple was awash with light. The three companions gasped in wonder as there, between the Temple and the mountain, high in the cold mountain air, a building appeared. A snaking ribbon of stairs joined it to the rock step outside the archway.
"It's time," Jarix said, pointing with his staff. The blonde swordsman nodded and went through the glass archway. He put his foot on the faintly glowing bottom step, half expecting it to slip through. But the step held and he made his way up the stairs. Swallowing hard, he steeled himself; he hadn't realized this was how he was going to have to get to the Temple.
As he climbed, he kept his eyes firmly fixed on the Temple above, certain that he would not enjoy the view through the transparent stairs. As he got closer, he could see it was formed of shimmering light. Colors and patterns played across the surfaces, like ice crystals forming on glass during the winter, he thought. They were constantly changing as the moon moved overhead.
Glancing up, he noticed the moon had cleared the mountain. Cursing, he took the steps two at a time, still not looking downward at the sheer drop below him. He wondered if he could slip off the edge - No, don't think of that, Gabriev, he admonished himself quickly.
Then he was on the landing in front of the archway. Gourry put his hand on the glass and the two panels swung outward to admit him. He stepped inside and found himself in a duplicate of the Temple below only the floor was tiled in all white and yet, he could see the mountain below through it. He pushed down the acrophobia that threatened. There didn't seem to be any shadows here at all, in fact. He noticed the moon-symbol on the floor was a perfect circle, and the stone that hung above it did not have a black side. The side facing him was blank, in fact. He walked around to the other side and sighed in relief: In the cross-shaped gouge in the stone rested a sword. The hilt was plain and unadorned, wrapped with white leather, with a silvery crosspiece that formed a simple cross. The pommel was set with a milky gem. There were white ribbons tied to the hilt just below the pommel. The scabbard was covered in white leather and like the hilt unadorned. A very plain looking sword all around. But then again, he knew swords and knew that a plain one could be just as deadly as a fancy one. And this one he hoped would be plenty deadly to a certain purple-haired Mazoku.
So here it was, Graeswandyr the White Sword. He looked around wondering where the Guardian was. No sign of it, whatever it was. Maybe there was no Guardian; Jarix had said he had never been here. None of the Priests of the Temple had; they were not allowed. And yet, what if there was a Guardian...?
His brows drew together and he shook himself. There was no time for debating such things. "There's the sword, Gabriev," he said aloud. "Take it." He stepped forward, placing his foot onto the moon-symbol on the floor, arm outstretched to take the sword from it's resting place. Just as he touched it, however, a familiar voice behind him froze him in his tracks.
"Yes, Gabriev, take it. It's yours. If you can defeat me."