PRE FIC RANTINGS AND A SPRINKLE OF DISCLAIMER: This was inspired by a piece of artwork of Zelas and Xellos by Eugene Chang at the website Sea of Chaos (really goreous art. Check it out).Who knows Xellos's past? (rethorical question, people) La la la, this is all just for fun. ^ ^ And obsession feeding of course (David Moo's not so bad). Anyways, I'm taking Xellos's age to be approx. 1013, as per what NEXT tells us. I always thought Xellos was a human first. Hmm...
As if it weren't obvious, I do not own Slayers. I do, however, currently own all your attention. Mwahahahaha. And I tend to use a lot dub term/spellings. They flow better with the English text, neh? ============================================================== Something Like a Mother
Izzy Girl Loyalty was a tricky thing, especially if you happened to be a Mazoku general. Zelas Metallium's last Priest had been a wolf and her General, a grotesque, goblin like creatrure with a long, graceful neck and large nostrils. Powerful arms and a strong minset. He wasn't stupid, but he obviously wasn't smart enough (went and got himself killed by a human sorceror. Pathetic.) Zelas had always liked wolves (being physically smiliar to one herself). Unfortunately for the aforementioned Priest, this affinity did not much help his position once the Beastmaster discovered him plotting against her. Thus, in a rather unfortunate chain of events, Zelas found herself without General, without Priest and without excuse to Lord Ruby Eyes why this had all happened at the dawn of a war. Think, think, think. There had to be some sort of easy answer just floating within arms length. There always was, she just had to muster up the patience to look for it. General Malboros was just a low level Mazoku living along the edge of the penninsula when she raised him up. Minister Jelreas, however, had been reborn when he wandered outside of his pack's territory after being heckled by the alpha male. Zelas liked to make her minions like that- give them something to be thankful for, but not enough of a gift to make them entirely depenant on her. She found that the more leash you let loose, the closer they roamed to home. Sometimes. Of course, many of the others thought this was foolish, but each to their own. Dragon King Gaav always programmed his to worship him as an idol- or occasionally a lover, or a God. Hellmaster Phibreezo often didn't bother to cross his fragile, human wards over to the Mazoku world, just possesed them and toyed with them like a puppetmaster pulling the strings (or a child with dolls) until they were spent and broken. Zelas enjoyed the company, however, at the very least she enjoyed the illusion of having intellectual and tactical equals. It did not do to be completely surrounded by drones. It was lonely- not to mention boring. So here she was, pacing across the country side, phasing in and out of towns and forests and monster dens appearing a bit more desperate than she actually was. She was formed like a human now, watching the field for the wolf pack. She did still love the wolves despite what Jelreas had attempted and they made such excellent scholars. Then he caught her eyes. Which was strange, since he was a human and being the Beastmaster, Zelas did not often harbour any interest in humans- that was solely Phibreezo's territory (they made good toys. Even after seven odd millenia of existence and the hellmaster was still a child). The boy was about fifteen or sixteen. Maybe younger, but he was tall for his age (though not extrodinairily tall at all) an gangly, like he hadn't completely grown into himself. He was obvious supposed to be watching the sheep in the field, and Zelas had no doubt that's exactly what he was doing, but his mind seemed otherwise occupied. He was humming and whitling a piece of wood distractedly as if all three activities he was currently engaged in were absolutely and unquestionably beneath him. And they were. His dark eyes glimmered with a sort of contained intelligence and cunning that spoke of a great destiny yet unfilled. However, the eyes were not the first thing Zelas noticed about the boy. Humans were so easy to read with all the silly things they did on the surface. The boy did not have a mother. It was obvious from the way his hair hung a bit too long, just brushing his shoulders, the bangs falling to rest above thick eyebrows. It showed in the way he sat and moved and in the way he simply was someone who had not been hugged enough in his lifetime and probably never would be. Zelas watched him carefully, and considered the type of life this boy might lead: sharply intelligent, but from humble roots; raised without a female influence but lacking in some particularily masculine qualities; ambitious. That was the most important part. He'd probably become a sorceror or a politician. Or both, High Advisor to one of the few great human Kings left in the land. There was movement on the horizon, along the rise where the hills met the woods. The wolves had finally arrived, hunched dark shadows against the sunset. Zelas sighed heavily because the wolves no longer held any interest to her, which was a bit unnerving since they were what she had come to observe in the first place. She returned her gaze to the boy, an errant thought slowly forming an idea in her mind. It wouldn't be so bad to have a human as a priest, would it? She would make him into a Mazoku, of course, so he wouldn't really be a human. Given a millenia or two, he might even forget that he ever was. The boy rose when he spotted the wolves, discarding his wood and jack knife, whistling sharply. The flock moved like a wave, the wolf pack cutting through it like a stray current. He took off and ran with the main body of the flock, but stopped abruptly, sending a small group of half a dozen sheep off in the other direction. The wolves changed the direction of their flow and focused on circling the smaller group while the boy lead the main flock to saftey. Zelas raised an eyebrow approvingly, Maybe a tactician, not an advisor? She approached him when he returned to his look out post, panting and scouring the grass for his knife. It took him a few moments to look at her, but when he did, she was blown away by the intensity in his young eyes. Definitely wasted as a human. "Why did you do that?" she asked. He furrowed his brow, "Do what?" "Let the wolves take those sheep." The boy's face relaxed and he laughed. There was something insincere in his smile- Zelas liked that, "Why not?" he answered, "It made sense. If I hadn't sent them those sheep I might have lost the whole flock. What's six out of seventy? I only have to keep enough of them alive." Zelas nodded thoughtfully and the boy continued searching for his jack knife, "What's your name?" she demanded, a bit more sharply than she had intended. He shrugged, not bothering to stand or look at her, "That's not important." "What do you get paid for doing this job?" Another laugh, "Not nearly enough." "Oh, is that so?" "Yeah." he found the knife and pocketed it, standing gracefully and regarding her through eyes half-hidden by shadow, "You're very pretty." he said finally, and Zelas knew that this was not flattery. Oh, it could have been if he had wanted it to, but something about the flatness of his tone and the seriousness of his expression told her that he thought she was too pretty. Beauty in itself is suspicious, but beauty and intelligence- ah, now there was a combination for any sensible man to fear. "How would you like to work for me?" she decided not to acknowledge the comment. They were locked in an intellectual spar, but she would always hold the upper hand. He was, after all, a child. He placed his hands on his hips and eyed her wearily, "And what sort of work would you have me do?" Too many pretty, intelligent women run whore houses, is what he was asking, are you one of them? "Oh, you'll see once you accept." "The pay any good?" "You... could say that." Truth be told Zelas didn't keep her unerlings on any sort of salary, per say, but the power that came with the job was unimaginable. She might have explained it, but she doubted it was anything she could ever explain to a weak human mind using weak human words. She couldn't wait until this boy was Mazoku. Her Priest and General in one package- how... convinient. "You can't just expect me to accept a job I know nothing about. The pay here's not too bad and they don't charge rent. Lady, unless you're making an offer I can't refuse..." his words were cut off sharply by a strangled gasp, a choke and then a weak cough. Zelas had casually driven her hand through his stomach and was now examining the finely manicured nails on her free hand. "How about this: You either work for me, or you die." His eyes widened slightly and blood began to trickle down his lower lip. Unexpectadly, he laughed. Or made an admirable attempt to laugh, a sick, bubbling sound that eventually dragged into a coughing fit, "So you're Mazoku, eh?" he grinned widely, "Might have guessed from the way you look." The game had to be played carefully from this point on, not to mention quickly. Zelas could alreay feel the boy's life force ebbing and she couldn't remake him without his consent. Oh, humans were so delicate. She would to fix that. "So, is it yes?" "We don't make deals with demons where I come from." he protested. Zelas sighed. How dull- typical human pratter. She really did hope this would turn out the way she intended. "Well, what do you want from me?" Zelas blinked. She hadn't expected him to ask that. Well, sometimes the truth worked so: "I'd like you to be my Priest and General. My second in command." Eyebrows raised, "Hmm. Really?" she felt his intrest pique in the wave of pain he radiated. His blurring vision was fixed on her. "Yes. It's quite a pristegious position actually. I'd be surprised if you turned it down. You'd be second in rank only to myself, the other four generals and, of course, Shabradingo himself." "Oh." the boy's breathing was becoming laboured and he had to dig his fingers into Zelas's arm to keep himself from keeling over. Funny how he never asked why she had chosen him of all people. Anyone else would have "And what do I have to do?" Zelas smirked what she figured was a warm, inviting smile, "Let me kill you, then remake you as one of my kind." The faint traces of enthusiasm that had begun to work themselves into his strained face dissapated. He paled, "Oh, I get it now. You mean I'll be your pet human. Your 'go-to' boy. A love toy and..." he trailed off, coughing. The waves of pain began to ease, it wouldn't be long now- he had lost too much blood. Zelas had to convince him and she had to do it fast. An offer I can't refuse... Of course! Why hadn't she seen it before!? Don't make them dependant. Never let them be depenant, but instead of giving them something to be thankful for, give them something they *need*. Zelas chuckled and drew the boy close to her, magic dancing in her finger tips, because she knew there would be no way he could refuse her now, "No, you'd be more like my son." He tried to look unaffected. Smiled weakly and chuckled low in the back of his throat, but Zelas felt the slight shift into her embrace and heard the muttered acceptance against her throat. Then he died, but only for a minute. A few scarcely counted seconds, insignifigant in the great lull and pull of things. Then he rose from her arms, no longer bleeding and struggling and incomplete, but a Mazoku. Her Mazoku. Perhaps the mother analogy had not been so far off- crossing a human over was much different from a wolf or a beast. The changes were so subtle- near-black irises lightened to an equally intense violet (now slitted like a cat's) and the dark sheen of his hair shimmered purple to match. He blinked, looked at himself, then grinned. "I feel... quite different." "You are." Zelas purred, slipping a long finger under his chin an pushing his face up, "You were right when you said you name didn't matter. I suppose I'll have to give you a different one then." she grinned slightly, "Unless you'd rather choose one yourself?" The boy shook his head an Zelas mused, "I should give you my own. Then, from now on your name is Xellos Metallium." ================== It was not characteristic for Xellos to stay away so long. Zelas tapped her long cigarette against the rim of her wine glass in impatience- in truth, he never had been away this long. She assumed that he was up to something and she assumed that it most likely had something to do with Darkstar, over-worlders and Lina Inverse. And since her assumptions were almost never wrong (especially not the ones that had to do with Xellos), he should have been back. Darkstar was gone, the light weapons were returned to the over world, Lina and co. were headed to Seyruune and even the Dragon Priestess was off and on her way. Where could that unmanagable boy be. "Oh my, I've done something irresponsible." Xellos phased in grinning cheerfully, putting on his best 'embarased-but-still-grinningl' facade. This did nothing for Zelas's temper. She hated it when he used those silly manipulations on her- she saw right through them anyways. "Well, I was wondering where you were. Still alive, I see." "Hmm? You sound surprised." "Where were you? I have a hunch." "And you hunch is most likely correct, dearest mistress, for what could you in your infinite beauty and wisdom fail to know?" the sincerety in his tone was almost perfect. The only thing that could have possibly made the words more simpering was a sweeping bow and a kiss on the hand. The fact that he did not stoop that low was a sign: Xellos was afraid that she was upset, but firmly in the opinion that he was in the right. She sighed and took a long drag of her cigarette, "Very well, explain yourself." The grin increased in it's intensity so that it became nervous. Xellos's eyebrows creased and one of his arms folded behind his head, "Yes. Well. I helped defeat Darkstar." Zelas remained unimpressed, "That much, I gathered." "I suppose I should rephrase that: I, in fact, participated in a key role in the defeat of Dark Star, representing the entire Mazoku race and lending my- our- power to the Fire Dragon King's Prophecy." "Ah. Anything else?" "And I fused magic with a former Priestess of the same shrine." pause, "Twice." "That would explain why your aura's so weak." Zelas tsk'ed, tapping the end of her cigarette and watching the ash fall to the floor. When would Xellos learn that he was still young yet. A thousand years was not a long life when one carried Mazoku blood, yet Xellos seemed to think himself capable of weilding some of the most powerful forms of magic without penalty. Which was partly her fault- she lent him out far too often as a free agent for 'special' assignments- he was beginning to develop an ego. "Oh dear." nervous laughter, "I suppose it would. I really am quite wounded, you know. Gaav's little pet was there as well and he used some rather potent astral magic." Zelas's left eye twitched slightly, "You mean Valgaav?" Nervous laughter increased, "Oh, yes, him. Well, you see, he didn't accept the proposal. I knew he wouldn't, of course. I almost killed him, but some... complications arose during the battle." Xellos's voice rose here. He would probably never explain exactly what those complications were, "Anyways, he's dead, Darkstar is gone, the Dragons are all dead and we're on the road to recovery! I scarcely could have imagined a brighter outcome to this little crisis!" "That still doesn't explain why you were working on you own." Zelas said harshly, gaining a small satisfaction from the way Xellos melted beneath her glare, "I understand that with your orders carried out you no longer had any perogative to continue interfering in this issue." she toned down the harshness in her tone and added, "You could have at least come to me for approval. You knew my opinion on the matter." Xellos's eyebrows evened out and his mouth turned down in a frown, although the strained smile did not leave his eyes. For a moment Zelas thought that he was going to tell her that his reasonings were a secret (a response that would have earned him a beating), but instead he shrugged, "I thought that my actions were... inappropiate." his lips turned upwards again, "I like this world the way it is. I thought you might accuse me of thinking like a human." He was simply impossible. Thinking like a human!? Of course he was thinking like a human. She wanted to tear his eyes open, just to make sure he was still Mazoku. Then she realized why he was keeping his eyes shut in the first place- he was pleased. Glad. Ecstatic, even, joy drawn from something decidedly less sinister than pain and he didn't want her to see. For understanable reasons, of course. She couldn't understand- never would, really. She wasn't dissapointed that the world hadn't ended, but she wasn't especially happy either. In fact, she was surprisingly apathetic about the whole matter (it would have been a bother to have died, afterall, she'd been alive so long). Xellos was not apathetic and that was the big difference between him and most other Mazoku. She wondered if this was because he had once been human or because he spent so little of his time around other Mazoku. Or maybe she had just made him that way without conciously realizing what she was doing. "Uh, may I be excused, Mistress? As I mentioned before saving the world did take quite a bit out of me and I would like to rest." he bowed and she nodded wearily, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. Perhaps she had been wrong about him all these years. Maybe Xellos was dangerous, just as dangerous, in fact, as any other Mazoku General or Priest only she had taken the role of "mother" far too seriously and had failed to notice it. Or perhaps he was dangerous in a different way than what she was use to warding against. She'd given him far too much independence. Emotions, goodness! Since when did a Mazoku need those in any strong quantity!? "Xellos, wait." he turned obidiently and watched her calmly through closed eyes. She beckoned him with long, dark fingers and the soft jingle of her gold bagles. He approached her and knelt, taking her hand in one of his own and pressing his lips to the back of her palm in a gesture of worship, "No, I meant come here." she cupped his face in her hand and pulled him near. He looked as if he were about to say something, then stopped, and laid his head in her lap closing his eyes. His astral eyes, not just his physical ones. She ran her long fingers through his hair, reassured of his loyalty- as if it ever could have been doubted. He was, afterall, her son. {;f i n i s} ; ; ; ; ; ================== POST FIC REFLECTIONS: There are just some amusing thoughts that keep you awake and writing fanfiction. One of which is: "Xellos is a mommy's boy." Well, watch the series and notice how often he refers to 'Lord Beastmaster', or his 'Superiors', or 'His Orders'. Geeze, boy, grow up and pay your own rent!
... or something. How many different spellings of Sayrune/Salliune/Seyroon/Sailoon ect. can there possibly BE! *balks* Goodness me oh my! I think I might have over-exerted myself writing this fic. Xellos is hard to write. Has anyone yet lamented upon that fact? He slips OOC so quickly.
Anyways, about the harm from mixing spells with Filia... doesn't it make sense that Mazoku magic would hurt a priestess and holy magic would hurt a Mazoku? Well, it makes sense to me so, um, there.
Wow, I need sleep.
*sincerely
Jenn Sparky Young aka Izzy Girl aka Cephied Variable
[email protected]
01/08/03 1:05 -2:06AM
As if it weren't obvious, I do not own Slayers. I do, however, currently own all your attention. Mwahahahaha. And I tend to use a lot dub term/spellings. They flow better with the English text, neh? ============================================================== Something Like a Mother
Izzy Girl Loyalty was a tricky thing, especially if you happened to be a Mazoku general. Zelas Metallium's last Priest had been a wolf and her General, a grotesque, goblin like creatrure with a long, graceful neck and large nostrils. Powerful arms and a strong minset. He wasn't stupid, but he obviously wasn't smart enough (went and got himself killed by a human sorceror. Pathetic.) Zelas had always liked wolves (being physically smiliar to one herself). Unfortunately for the aforementioned Priest, this affinity did not much help his position once the Beastmaster discovered him plotting against her. Thus, in a rather unfortunate chain of events, Zelas found herself without General, without Priest and without excuse to Lord Ruby Eyes why this had all happened at the dawn of a war. Think, think, think. There had to be some sort of easy answer just floating within arms length. There always was, she just had to muster up the patience to look for it. General Malboros was just a low level Mazoku living along the edge of the penninsula when she raised him up. Minister Jelreas, however, had been reborn when he wandered outside of his pack's territory after being heckled by the alpha male. Zelas liked to make her minions like that- give them something to be thankful for, but not enough of a gift to make them entirely depenant on her. She found that the more leash you let loose, the closer they roamed to home. Sometimes. Of course, many of the others thought this was foolish, but each to their own. Dragon King Gaav always programmed his to worship him as an idol- or occasionally a lover, or a God. Hellmaster Phibreezo often didn't bother to cross his fragile, human wards over to the Mazoku world, just possesed them and toyed with them like a puppetmaster pulling the strings (or a child with dolls) until they were spent and broken. Zelas enjoyed the company, however, at the very least she enjoyed the illusion of having intellectual and tactical equals. It did not do to be completely surrounded by drones. It was lonely- not to mention boring. So here she was, pacing across the country side, phasing in and out of towns and forests and monster dens appearing a bit more desperate than she actually was. She was formed like a human now, watching the field for the wolf pack. She did still love the wolves despite what Jelreas had attempted and they made such excellent scholars. Then he caught her eyes. Which was strange, since he was a human and being the Beastmaster, Zelas did not often harbour any interest in humans- that was solely Phibreezo's territory (they made good toys. Even after seven odd millenia of existence and the hellmaster was still a child). The boy was about fifteen or sixteen. Maybe younger, but he was tall for his age (though not extrodinairily tall at all) an gangly, like he hadn't completely grown into himself. He was obvious supposed to be watching the sheep in the field, and Zelas had no doubt that's exactly what he was doing, but his mind seemed otherwise occupied. He was humming and whitling a piece of wood distractedly as if all three activities he was currently engaged in were absolutely and unquestionably beneath him. And they were. His dark eyes glimmered with a sort of contained intelligence and cunning that spoke of a great destiny yet unfilled. However, the eyes were not the first thing Zelas noticed about the boy. Humans were so easy to read with all the silly things they did on the surface. The boy did not have a mother. It was obvious from the way his hair hung a bit too long, just brushing his shoulders, the bangs falling to rest above thick eyebrows. It showed in the way he sat and moved and in the way he simply was someone who had not been hugged enough in his lifetime and probably never would be. Zelas watched him carefully, and considered the type of life this boy might lead: sharply intelligent, but from humble roots; raised without a female influence but lacking in some particularily masculine qualities; ambitious. That was the most important part. He'd probably become a sorceror or a politician. Or both, High Advisor to one of the few great human Kings left in the land. There was movement on the horizon, along the rise where the hills met the woods. The wolves had finally arrived, hunched dark shadows against the sunset. Zelas sighed heavily because the wolves no longer held any interest to her, which was a bit unnerving since they were what she had come to observe in the first place. She returned her gaze to the boy, an errant thought slowly forming an idea in her mind. It wouldn't be so bad to have a human as a priest, would it? She would make him into a Mazoku, of course, so he wouldn't really be a human. Given a millenia or two, he might even forget that he ever was. The boy rose when he spotted the wolves, discarding his wood and jack knife, whistling sharply. The flock moved like a wave, the wolf pack cutting through it like a stray current. He took off and ran with the main body of the flock, but stopped abruptly, sending a small group of half a dozen sheep off in the other direction. The wolves changed the direction of their flow and focused on circling the smaller group while the boy lead the main flock to saftey. Zelas raised an eyebrow approvingly, Maybe a tactician, not an advisor? She approached him when he returned to his look out post, panting and scouring the grass for his knife. It took him a few moments to look at her, but when he did, she was blown away by the intensity in his young eyes. Definitely wasted as a human. "Why did you do that?" she asked. He furrowed his brow, "Do what?" "Let the wolves take those sheep." The boy's face relaxed and he laughed. There was something insincere in his smile- Zelas liked that, "Why not?" he answered, "It made sense. If I hadn't sent them those sheep I might have lost the whole flock. What's six out of seventy? I only have to keep enough of them alive." Zelas nodded thoughtfully and the boy continued searching for his jack knife, "What's your name?" she demanded, a bit more sharply than she had intended. He shrugged, not bothering to stand or look at her, "That's not important." "What do you get paid for doing this job?" Another laugh, "Not nearly enough." "Oh, is that so?" "Yeah." he found the knife and pocketed it, standing gracefully and regarding her through eyes half-hidden by shadow, "You're very pretty." he said finally, and Zelas knew that this was not flattery. Oh, it could have been if he had wanted it to, but something about the flatness of his tone and the seriousness of his expression told her that he thought she was too pretty. Beauty in itself is suspicious, but beauty and intelligence- ah, now there was a combination for any sensible man to fear. "How would you like to work for me?" she decided not to acknowledge the comment. They were locked in an intellectual spar, but she would always hold the upper hand. He was, after all, a child. He placed his hands on his hips and eyed her wearily, "And what sort of work would you have me do?" Too many pretty, intelligent women run whore houses, is what he was asking, are you one of them? "Oh, you'll see once you accept." "The pay any good?" "You... could say that." Truth be told Zelas didn't keep her unerlings on any sort of salary, per say, but the power that came with the job was unimaginable. She might have explained it, but she doubted it was anything she could ever explain to a weak human mind using weak human words. She couldn't wait until this boy was Mazoku. Her Priest and General in one package- how... convinient. "You can't just expect me to accept a job I know nothing about. The pay here's not too bad and they don't charge rent. Lady, unless you're making an offer I can't refuse..." his words were cut off sharply by a strangled gasp, a choke and then a weak cough. Zelas had casually driven her hand through his stomach and was now examining the finely manicured nails on her free hand. "How about this: You either work for me, or you die." His eyes widened slightly and blood began to trickle down his lower lip. Unexpectadly, he laughed. Or made an admirable attempt to laugh, a sick, bubbling sound that eventually dragged into a coughing fit, "So you're Mazoku, eh?" he grinned widely, "Might have guessed from the way you look." The game had to be played carefully from this point on, not to mention quickly. Zelas could alreay feel the boy's life force ebbing and she couldn't remake him without his consent. Oh, humans were so delicate. She would to fix that. "So, is it yes?" "We don't make deals with demons where I come from." he protested. Zelas sighed. How dull- typical human pratter. She really did hope this would turn out the way she intended. "Well, what do you want from me?" Zelas blinked. She hadn't expected him to ask that. Well, sometimes the truth worked so: "I'd like you to be my Priest and General. My second in command." Eyebrows raised, "Hmm. Really?" she felt his intrest pique in the wave of pain he radiated. His blurring vision was fixed on her. "Yes. It's quite a pristegious position actually. I'd be surprised if you turned it down. You'd be second in rank only to myself, the other four generals and, of course, Shabradingo himself." "Oh." the boy's breathing was becoming laboured and he had to dig his fingers into Zelas's arm to keep himself from keeling over. Funny how he never asked why she had chosen him of all people. Anyone else would have "And what do I have to do?" Zelas smirked what she figured was a warm, inviting smile, "Let me kill you, then remake you as one of my kind." The faint traces of enthusiasm that had begun to work themselves into his strained face dissapated. He paled, "Oh, I get it now. You mean I'll be your pet human. Your 'go-to' boy. A love toy and..." he trailed off, coughing. The waves of pain began to ease, it wouldn't be long now- he had lost too much blood. Zelas had to convince him and she had to do it fast. An offer I can't refuse... Of course! Why hadn't she seen it before!? Don't make them dependant. Never let them be depenant, but instead of giving them something to be thankful for, give them something they *need*. Zelas chuckled and drew the boy close to her, magic dancing in her finger tips, because she knew there would be no way he could refuse her now, "No, you'd be more like my son." He tried to look unaffected. Smiled weakly and chuckled low in the back of his throat, but Zelas felt the slight shift into her embrace and heard the muttered acceptance against her throat. Then he died, but only for a minute. A few scarcely counted seconds, insignifigant in the great lull and pull of things. Then he rose from her arms, no longer bleeding and struggling and incomplete, but a Mazoku. Her Mazoku. Perhaps the mother analogy had not been so far off- crossing a human over was much different from a wolf or a beast. The changes were so subtle- near-black irises lightened to an equally intense violet (now slitted like a cat's) and the dark sheen of his hair shimmered purple to match. He blinked, looked at himself, then grinned. "I feel... quite different." "You are." Zelas purred, slipping a long finger under his chin an pushing his face up, "You were right when you said you name didn't matter. I suppose I'll have to give you a different one then." she grinned slightly, "Unless you'd rather choose one yourself?" The boy shook his head an Zelas mused, "I should give you my own. Then, from now on your name is Xellos Metallium." ================== It was not characteristic for Xellos to stay away so long. Zelas tapped her long cigarette against the rim of her wine glass in impatience- in truth, he never had been away this long. She assumed that he was up to something and she assumed that it most likely had something to do with Darkstar, over-worlders and Lina Inverse. And since her assumptions were almost never wrong (especially not the ones that had to do with Xellos), he should have been back. Darkstar was gone, the light weapons were returned to the over world, Lina and co. were headed to Seyruune and even the Dragon Priestess was off and on her way. Where could that unmanagable boy be. "Oh my, I've done something irresponsible." Xellos phased in grinning cheerfully, putting on his best 'embarased-but-still-grinningl' facade. This did nothing for Zelas's temper. She hated it when he used those silly manipulations on her- she saw right through them anyways. "Well, I was wondering where you were. Still alive, I see." "Hmm? You sound surprised." "Where were you? I have a hunch." "And you hunch is most likely correct, dearest mistress, for what could you in your infinite beauty and wisdom fail to know?" the sincerety in his tone was almost perfect. The only thing that could have possibly made the words more simpering was a sweeping bow and a kiss on the hand. The fact that he did not stoop that low was a sign: Xellos was afraid that she was upset, but firmly in the opinion that he was in the right. She sighed and took a long drag of her cigarette, "Very well, explain yourself." The grin increased in it's intensity so that it became nervous. Xellos's eyebrows creased and one of his arms folded behind his head, "Yes. Well. I helped defeat Darkstar." Zelas remained unimpressed, "That much, I gathered." "I suppose I should rephrase that: I, in fact, participated in a key role in the defeat of Dark Star, representing the entire Mazoku race and lending my- our- power to the Fire Dragon King's Prophecy." "Ah. Anything else?" "And I fused magic with a former Priestess of the same shrine." pause, "Twice." "That would explain why your aura's so weak." Zelas tsk'ed, tapping the end of her cigarette and watching the ash fall to the floor. When would Xellos learn that he was still young yet. A thousand years was not a long life when one carried Mazoku blood, yet Xellos seemed to think himself capable of weilding some of the most powerful forms of magic without penalty. Which was partly her fault- she lent him out far too often as a free agent for 'special' assignments- he was beginning to develop an ego. "Oh dear." nervous laughter, "I suppose it would. I really am quite wounded, you know. Gaav's little pet was there as well and he used some rather potent astral magic." Zelas's left eye twitched slightly, "You mean Valgaav?" Nervous laughter increased, "Oh, yes, him. Well, you see, he didn't accept the proposal. I knew he wouldn't, of course. I almost killed him, but some... complications arose during the battle." Xellos's voice rose here. He would probably never explain exactly what those complications were, "Anyways, he's dead, Darkstar is gone, the Dragons are all dead and we're on the road to recovery! I scarcely could have imagined a brighter outcome to this little crisis!" "That still doesn't explain why you were working on you own." Zelas said harshly, gaining a small satisfaction from the way Xellos melted beneath her glare, "I understand that with your orders carried out you no longer had any perogative to continue interfering in this issue." she toned down the harshness in her tone and added, "You could have at least come to me for approval. You knew my opinion on the matter." Xellos's eyebrows evened out and his mouth turned down in a frown, although the strained smile did not leave his eyes. For a moment Zelas thought that he was going to tell her that his reasonings were a secret (a response that would have earned him a beating), but instead he shrugged, "I thought that my actions were... inappropiate." his lips turned upwards again, "I like this world the way it is. I thought you might accuse me of thinking like a human." He was simply impossible. Thinking like a human!? Of course he was thinking like a human. She wanted to tear his eyes open, just to make sure he was still Mazoku. Then she realized why he was keeping his eyes shut in the first place- he was pleased. Glad. Ecstatic, even, joy drawn from something decidedly less sinister than pain and he didn't want her to see. For understanable reasons, of course. She couldn't understand- never would, really. She wasn't dissapointed that the world hadn't ended, but she wasn't especially happy either. In fact, she was surprisingly apathetic about the whole matter (it would have been a bother to have died, afterall, she'd been alive so long). Xellos was not apathetic and that was the big difference between him and most other Mazoku. She wondered if this was because he had once been human or because he spent so little of his time around other Mazoku. Or maybe she had just made him that way without conciously realizing what she was doing. "Uh, may I be excused, Mistress? As I mentioned before saving the world did take quite a bit out of me and I would like to rest." he bowed and she nodded wearily, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. Perhaps she had been wrong about him all these years. Maybe Xellos was dangerous, just as dangerous, in fact, as any other Mazoku General or Priest only she had taken the role of "mother" far too seriously and had failed to notice it. Or perhaps he was dangerous in a different way than what she was use to warding against. She'd given him far too much independence. Emotions, goodness! Since when did a Mazoku need those in any strong quantity!? "Xellos, wait." he turned obidiently and watched her calmly through closed eyes. She beckoned him with long, dark fingers and the soft jingle of her gold bagles. He approached her and knelt, taking her hand in one of his own and pressing his lips to the back of her palm in a gesture of worship, "No, I meant come here." she cupped his face in her hand and pulled him near. He looked as if he were about to say something, then stopped, and laid his head in her lap closing his eyes. His astral eyes, not just his physical ones. She ran her long fingers through his hair, reassured of his loyalty- as if it ever could have been doubted. He was, afterall, her son. {;f i n i s} ; ; ; ; ; ================== POST FIC REFLECTIONS: There are just some amusing thoughts that keep you awake and writing fanfiction. One of which is: "Xellos is a mommy's boy." Well, watch the series and notice how often he refers to 'Lord Beastmaster', or his 'Superiors', or 'His Orders'. Geeze, boy, grow up and pay your own rent!
... or something. How many different spellings of Sayrune/Salliune/Seyroon/Sailoon ect. can there possibly BE! *balks* Goodness me oh my! I think I might have over-exerted myself writing this fic. Xellos is hard to write. Has anyone yet lamented upon that fact? He slips OOC so quickly.
Anyways, about the harm from mixing spells with Filia... doesn't it make sense that Mazoku magic would hurt a priestess and holy magic would hurt a Mazoku? Well, it makes sense to me so, um, there.
Wow, I need sleep.
*sincerely
Jenn Sparky Young aka Izzy Girl aka Cephied Variable
[email protected]
01/08/03 1:05 -2:06AM