"I am the Messenger, listen to me.
The words I bring are your destiny.
I am the Messenger..."
Darkness had fallen by the time the lonely wanderer reached the Temple. His blind eyes couldn't see the setting sun, but its warm rays against his face had been replaced by the cool caress of twilight. Dusty robes swirled around his tall, slim body as he entered the complex of marble buildings.
He walked through familiar halls and colonnades, found his way without hesitating. The Temple had always been a second home, a haven from the too cruel world outside. Here was where he first had began his studies all those years ago. Decades. Centuries?
He sighed wearily. Such a long life. Always searching, never finding...
He shook his head. As always after a journey the familiar despair threatened to claim him. Every time he left on these quests there was the feeling of desperate, foolish hope - every time he returned empty-handed the bitter taste of defeat grew harder to accept. The quiet jingling of the rings on his staff echoed softly as he walked, a familiar, soothing sound.
He stopped, like so many times before, at the huge relief of the Battle, letting his astral vision travel over the two combating dragons. He had heard it described to him many times, his own magic providing only a blurred, sketchy framework. Covering an entire wall, disappearing into the shadows high above, this scene of the battle between Ceipheed and Shabranigdu was the grandest of its kind known to the world. He absently reached out and touched the smooth marble surface, fingers tracing the smooth lines and showing him yet another dimension of the Battle.
He didn't know how long he'd been standing like that when a whisper behind him made him jump, the rings on his staff jangling sharply.
"Echoes of an ancient time
live inside your mind.
Why don't you set them free?"
He swirled around, red cloak billowing, to face the intruder. A figure was standing by one of the large pillars supporting the roof. The aura was unfamiliar, with an odd tinge to it...
"Who are you?" he asked. The stranger ignored the question, just walked slowly towards him. In the same sing-song voice he continued:
"Let your visions breathe."
The Red Priest drew back, studying the other warily. Visions? A nagging feeling he should know what the man was talking about crept though him, like an itch.
"Who are you?" he demanded again, less civil this time, all but threatening. Caught unawares by the stranger's sudden appearance, he was not in control of the situation. He hated feeling helpless, playing someone else's game.
When the stranger spoke again he could hear a smile in the smooth voice.
"Ah, have no worries. I am not one to suspect. I'm only here to deliver a message."
The tall man scowled.
"That is not much of an introduction. You wouldn't happen to have a name..?"
The smile in the other's voice widened and he sketched a mock bow.
"But of course! I am Xellos - also known as the Mysterious Priest."
"I can see why." the red-clad man commented dryly.
He remained quiet, waiting for the other to deliver his message. Xellos, on the other hand, seemed perfectly content to stay silent. The uncomfortable silence stretched into minutes, both of them challenging the other to speak first. Finally the taller man shook his head in disgust and gave up.
"So, what is your message?"
The mysterious stranger shook a finger at him, ever smiling.
"You're not paying attention. You've already heard part of it."
"What? That rhyme about visions?"
"Yes. That. Here is the rest, so listen carefully. I think you'll find it interesting."
A slight change in the stranger's aura told him the man's happy smile had changed, become downright wicked.
"Windows to the mystery -
open your eyes and see."
The Red Priest started. He took a step forward, his staff slamming hard against the floor. The rings clattered loudly in a sudden crash of sound.
"What is that supposed to mean?!"
Xellos just shrugged, the happy smile back in his voice.
"That is a secret."
"What?!"
The tall man raised his eyebrows in surprise. This didn't make any sense whatsoever. His confused expression turned into one of unveiled anger and he took another step forward.
"What is the point of giving me a message like that if you won't explain what it means?"
The other just kept smiling, completely unfazed. He waved his hand distractedly.
"Oh, you'll find out, never fear. I'll be back. Tomorrow. Until then, why don't you sleep on it?"
Smiling, as always, he stepped away from the frustrated blind man, lifting his hand in an encouraging gesture.
"Take all of the dreams you need."
And then he disappeared into thin air.
Rezo the Red Priest entered his own chambers. Plain, bordering on austere, they were still comfortable, the sparse furniture smelling faintly of old incense. Without anything further to distract him, he suddenly realized how utterly exhausted he was. He slowly sank into his chair, leaning his staff against the desk in front of him. He leaned his face in his slim hands and took a deep breath.
"Ceipheed, I'm tired." he muttered into his hands. He allowed himself yet another moment of rest, then straightened.
He lit a candle, simply because he liked the feeling of light playing over his skin. The darkness he was doomed to live in couldn't be shattered by such mundane means.
Alone, undisturbed, he was able to contemplate the curious conversation with the strange messenger earlier from a more objective point of view. He scowled. It didn't seem to make much more sense because of that. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, irritably trying to concentrate. The stranger's name had sounded somewhat familiar. And there had been that odd feeling about his aura...
The Red Priest forced himself out of his chair and went to the bookshelves by the small window. As he picked up an armful of books, cool moonlight washed over his fingers, silky like water to the touch.
Shedding his heavy shoulder guards and cloak, he sat down once again, and opened the first of the books. Letting his fingers dance over the pages in a gentle caress, he let it speak to him, reading without seeing. Hours passed and he had all but given up when he suddenly stumbled across what he was looking for.
"Xellos Metalliam, priest and general of Beast Master..."
He absently put down the old book, a record of the ancient gods and demons of the world, his closed eyes staring emptily into space.
So. A Mazoku. And not just any Mazoku, but the most powerful of them all, save the five Dark Lords themselves. A strange mixture of discomfort and hope made him shift restlessly. This might prove to be a real breakthrough - if there was any power strong enough to grant him his heart's desire, it was the dark arts of the evil race. On the other hand, they would never give anything for free, and the price demanded might be too high to pay indeed. Which of course led to the inevitable question.
"Why me? What do they want with me?"
More hours went by as he read through book after book, searching for answers but finding only more questions. The candle burned out unnoticed, as the Red Priest finally fell into exhausted sleep, an open book still resting in his hand. A breeze entered unbidden through the open window, playing with the pages, brushing a few purple strands of hair out of the sleeping man's pale face. The moon moved on, leaving the room in darkness.
And behind the blind man's closed eyes, memories not his, visions of an ancient time, disturbed his dreams.
Another sunset. He had been told those were beautiful. Enchanting displays of light, glowing in breathtaking shades and nuances of red. He didn't know what red was.
Bitterness swept through him again. What wouldn't he do, what wouldn't he give to be able to see it? See all these wonders that seemed forever denied him?
And that was, of course, the reason he was here. Waiting.
The large relief behind him reflected the last rays of sunlight shining though the glass dome in the ceiling - he could feel the glow of warmth from it's surface.
He couldn't tell what it was, but something suddenly alerted him to another's presence. Turning around he recognized his visitor from last night. The man truly hid his identity well - no one would ever believe him to be anything but human. Unless, of course, that particular someone had used his astral vision all his life and grown extremely skilled at reading even the smallest differences in a person's aura.
The Red Priest faced the messenger, patiently waiting for him to speak. A few moments of silence passed, then Xellos smiled his eternal smile.
"Come to hear the rest of the message?"
"I have come to get answers, Xellos Metalliam."
The Mazoku's smile faltered for a moment and the Red Priest felt genuine surprise radiate from him. When the Mazoku spoke again his voice was more serious, obviously impressed.
"I see. You found out who I am, did you? I hadn't expected that. Good work."
Rezo shrugged haughtily.
"If you don't want people to know who you are you should be more careful throwing your real name around. It can be found in any decently detailed description of the Mazoku hierarchy. Besides, your aura gives you away."
Once again the Mazoku seemed taken by surprise. Then he nodded slowly to himself, studying the blind man.
"You're better than I thought. I admit it never occurred to me a mere human could read the currents of the Astral plane like that. Very well."
He remained silent for a moment, obviously contemplating his next move. Then his happy smile returned and he shrugged.
"Very well indeed. This doesn't really change things all that much. I still have the rest of my message to deliver."
Rezo frowned. He had hoped for answers rather than more riddles, but it was obvious the smiling fiend before him wouldn't let him ask any questions until he had delivered his message. He sighed.
"Go ahead."
Once again his magic told him the Mazoku's smile twisted into an evil grin. Using the same voice he had last night, he chanted yet another verse.
"Jewels in a turqoise sea
spark your memory.
You will awaken now.
Let your heart be strong."
A strange, dizzying sensation made the Red Priest take a step back. He put a hand to his head. Strange memories, not his own, fought to rise to the surface.
An island in a glittering sea. Two huge dragons fighting in the sky, flaming blood and flashing claws, smoke and sky-fire everywhere...
He gasped as a tremor stabbed through him, as if something deep inside tried to break free. His blind eyes ached.
He could hear the mysterious creature in front of him chuckle quietly at his discomfort, and a detached part of himself remembered: They feed on pain and fear. Negative feelings.
Anger shot through him. He certainly did not intend to spend his evening giving that accursed creature a feast on his expense. Taking a deep breath he regained control, straightened. The strange sensation died away, and he once again faced the smirking Mazoku. The creature nodded sagely to himself, as if he'd expected just such a reaction.
"Now wasn't that interesting?"
The Red Priest slammed his staff down hard, the loud and angry clang of the rings shattering the silence in the empty hall. He snarled furiously at the ever-smiling demon.
"What was that about? Tell me!"
Xellos made a great show of not being impressed in the least, shaking his head at Rezo's outburst.
"You will understand in time. Let's say it's a secret for now."
And he smiled.
The tall, red-robed man clenched his teeth in anger. He had to fight against an overpowering urge to use his staff to smash that self-satisfied smirk in. Only the knowledge such violence wouldn't affect a Mazoku like Xellos held him back. Instead he straightened and turned to leave.
"I don't have to listen to this," he declared, his voice cold and cutting like shattered ice.
The Mazoku shook his head again, this time feigning concern.
"Oya oya... does this mean you're not interested in finding a cure for your blindness after all..?"
Rezo, already on his way, froze. Quietly, without turning around, he asked;
"What do you mean?"
Xellos gave him a truly evil smile and all but purred.
"You will finally understand
he power you hold in your hands.
Your journey begins tonight..."
Very slowly, the Red Priest turned around.
"You're offering to cure my blindness?"
Desperate hope once again surged through him, and he hated himself for it. So far hope had only ever led to more bitter disappointment. The Mazoku only nodded.
"Why?"
"That is a secret."
The Red Priest bristled, opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind. A flowing stream of mixed emotions flashed across his features; anger, wariness, yearning, desperate hope. Indecision. Resignation.
"What journey..?"
The Mazoku smiled again, the grin of a hunter who has cornered his prey, and for the first time Rezo felt a flicker of fear for the inhuman creature.
Xellos came closer and put a gloved hand on his arm in a friendly manner. Possessive?
"Tell me," the demon said, and gestured slightly with his free hand, "have you ever heard of the Philosopher's Stone..?"
The Slayers characters are used without permission.
The lyrics are from the song Tallis the messenger, from the David Arkenstone CD Quest of the Dream Warrior.
The story and illustrations are © Silvestris 2000 and can't be used without my permission.
Thanks a bunch to Pairaka and Syrena for helping me edit this thing.