by Nightfall
The yellow came closer, wearing blue today, and he uncoiled from the ground in a savage leap, going for the eyes with one hand and the throat with the other. Maybe he could at least provoke her into killing him this time, during his brief vulnerability, no matter how unlikely that might be. But she only knocked him out, just like she had before, although more physically this time, since his attack had been physical, with a heavy fist on the top of his head rather than a burst of power.
Oh, well, he thought bitterly as he folded to the ground and everything went dark again, it had been worth a shot.
When the world blurred back into being again, a yellow, peach, and blue blur was holding him down by the arms and sitting on him. He struggled, growling and hissing venomously and trying to bite, taking full advantage of this oddly long interval before the ether took him over entirely. He was, as always, helpless against her.
"Oi, oi," a deep voice said, alarmed, "calm down! It's okay!"
Arrested, he froze. Her voice was low for a female's, yes, but nothing like this.
"Xellos?" the voice asked, cautious now. Yes. Definitely male.
He screwed up his eyes into their usual squint, and the blur took on slightly better definition. Straight nose, not too thin, with only a slight tilt. Average lips on the longish side with unremarkable color and width. Wide blue-grey eyes. Hair of a bolder, golder shade than hers, and neater, except for the overgown locks falling across high cheekbones. No perfect, symmetrical scars. No horn. No long, clawed fingernails digging into the meat of his arms. "Gourry?"
"Are you going to attack me again?"
What could he say to that? The best truth he could find was, "It's not on the top of my priority list just at the moment."
Gourry let go of his arms. "What were--"
"You should kill me now," he interrupted. "Quickly."
"No, I don't think so."
"Now!"
"No."
Frustrated and desperate, Xellos lunged for the sword at the mercenary's belt. A dizzying, fumbling moment later, his head cracked down against the fabric again with an audible thud, and Gourry had gotten off his thighs to sit heavily on his chest. "Get off of me," he said, disgusted and resigned. The sky was spinning. "You're heavy and wet and I don't need to see that."
"Xellos," Gourry said patiantly, not moving. "What were you doing?"
"Going for your sword," he snapped silkenly. "Since the Swordsman of Light is too soft to do what's necessary."
"I meant, why were you in the water? Didn't you see the signs?"
"I wrote the signs," he growled. "And I didn't have a choice."
Back to Salt in the Air | Go on to Rules of the Game