Chapter 8: Just one of those 25%

He stood there for a long time. So long that the ground turned to gold with the fading light and his shadow leapt towards the gaping pit he’d created. He took three steps forward so he could peer over and see what lay below. He felt relieved he did not see any bodies. Then he realized the pit was so deep he couldn’t have seen if anything had fallen down there. A cold lump slid down into his stomach as a bitter burning sensation trickled through his throat.

"Well done. Well done." A familiar, but unwelcome voice said. "I like your new look."

Zelgadis flinched involuntarily. "What did you do, Xellos?" He muttered.

Xellos reappeared directly in front of him, his smile wide, his eyes closed. "Me? Nothing. It was your spell."

Zelgadis blinked. As a practitioner of shamanistic magic, he knew he could wield tremendous power but mostly, that power did not effect the physical plane so much. This scene of destruction was equivalent to something Lina would do with the dragon-slave spell.

"Impossible." He said. He reached his hands out and grabbed Xellos. "That spell would not..." He trailed off as he started to stare at his own hands. The fact that his hands were blue did not cause his words to fade. He almost thought that normal. No, it was the fact that his hands were abnormally large. In fact, all of him was larger in an odd, elongated, serpentine way.

Xellos tilted his head, considering Zelgadis expectantly as if waiting for something.

Zelgadis did not disappoint him. "MAZOKU! What have you done to me?"

Xellos smiled that eerily patient smile of his. The one that said "I’m anticipating any moment that you will be very upset, and I will find it quite amusing." He didn’t say those words but said, in a tone that matched his expression "I cured you."

"THIS IS NOT A CURE.’ Zelgadis shouted angrily. Wisps of steam fluttered from his ears.

"Every cure has side effects." Xellos said smiling. He pulled a list out of nowhere and read. "Its on the label. 5% experience headaches, 10% violent mood swings, 20% loss of magical abilities and 25% experience aqueous multi-form transformations. You must just be one of the 25%."

*********************

Ameria stopped running with a jolt. Her throat hurt from the speed at which the wind had rushed through her. What was that explosion? "I wonder if anyone was hurt?" She said to herself.

"Zel?" She called. The sound of a leaf rustling was her only reply. "Rory?"

"Zel" She said, a little louder. A bird chirped somewhere. "Rory?"

"ZEL! RORY! " She yelled. A small blue slyme peeked out from the rocks, and rolled its gum-drop shaped body across her foot.

"HEY." She looked down at the blue trail of a thin gel like substance on her foot. "Yuck." The slyme twisted around, its large eyes blinking, as it stuck its tongue out at her and dissappeared.

"IS ANYONE THERE?!" She shouted.

No one, not even that horrible Glory answered. The woods around her were completely silent. She stepped on a dry twig and then turned around into a stacked tower of Slymes in every color imaginable. The small globular creatures scattered like a sticky rainbow colored waterfall.

"GROSS." She shouted.

The creatures started wailing loudly. The sound was excruciatingly painful.

"Stop it!." She cried. "Or I will ....I will... " She couldn't exactly punnish them for being evil, but the thought tempted her.

Just then, a silvery sounding flute thrilled a note or two, and a gentle melody started to soothe the Slymes into a peaceful state of slobbery bliss. The music grew louder, bit by bit, until Timbre appeared, his lips pursed around the small tube of the instrument. He played for a few minutes until all the Slymes appeared to be asleep.

" I thought you played the guitar!" Ameria said wonderingly.

"I do." He replied. His eyes had that dreamy look they had when she'd first met him, rather than the vacant look they usually had. He grinned at her as he put away the flute into his shirt.

 http://www.inverse.org/e/bkg/magic/sp1.shtml#aerobomb