by Nightfall
Throb of escaping blood, none of the expected sting and swell of salt and water but corrosion in his wrists, blistering like acid. The scrape of cloth bands at his elbows and ankles, the solid, reassuring weight of rocks. Gulping it in like sweet poisen, inhaling it like fire, letting it sear his throat, each corner and branch of his lungs, in his stomach and all thoughout his insides and all the time despair, despair. Prison, or the water. Virtue, or the water. Death of the spirit, or death of the body. Dying. Despair. Surrender. Escape.
Caught.
Claws.
"Devoted, aren't we?"
Rising. Being turned to face strangers. Green-black innocence, demented. Orange-red power, bubbling with barely-masked fury. Green-blue charm, with a twist. Blue-white distinction, heavy and overpowering. Cream-yellow beauty, amused.
"They fought over me, you know," he said lightly. "I'd been so greedy with the water that I was very powerful, with the makings of an excellent minion."
"How did they decide?" Gourry asked, grey-blue eyes wide, although less vacant than usual.
"In the end, they left it up to me."
"Hear your options, creature. Spirit and air. Feeling and fire. Chaos and water. Discipline and void. Life and earth. Choose."
"I... I've always liked trees."
Stupid answer.
"Did you choose wrong?"
"She's fair and sane, and she has a sense of humor. She's better than the rest of them. That's not saying much."
"Did you ever try to escape before?"
"Once. I was punished. Badly. And then she was very kind and explained that no one had even bothered to try since Lei Magnus, and look what happened to him, and now I was weak and powerless for the next hundred years, and I might as well just concentrate on becoming as strong as I could next time. I didn't try again until today."
"I don't know what happened to him."
"He was furious when he left. They caught him, and he got consumed."
"What made you try?"
"I found a dagger I could hide and practiced maintaining a breathing spell on it in my sleep until I could do it anytime."
"But you were afraid, so wouldn't you have been eaten, too?"
"I wouldn't have been afraid if I'd woken up in the sea, like I expected to. Now tell me what shape my eyes are, and if you lie to me I will hurt you. I really will, you know. And not like Lina does, either."
Gourry got off of him and drew his sword, but it wasn't his, it was the chimera's. He knelt and held it up, like a mirror for Xellos to look into. "I won't say anything, then."
He freed his hands and sat up, pinning hope to the skin of his palms with his nails, and looked into the makeshift steel glass.
There were his eyes, charcoal, ice, and lilac. Ovoid skin, and inside... round. Round pupils, with no feline slits. Round irises, with no demonic diamonds. Catching light, not generating it.
He stared at his reflection for some time. Finally, gently, he loosed the sword's blade from Gourry's grasp and let it go. He brought the swordsman's hand to his lips and kissed it, first the knuckles, and then the palm. Then, ignoring the shock in enormous pale eyes, he brought his knees up, wrapped his arms around them, put his head down, and, silent, sobbed.
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