 |
| Creation of a Demon (Note : In this fic, Chesta is female) …The excavation of the temple was going according to plan. In the dank, foreboding audience chamber, they had found the statue of a pouncing lion. In it's snarling, deadly maw was a single blood-red stone. The sorcerer smiled to himself. They all knew of the creature trapped in its heart. His desert homeland, Zaibach, had steadily risen into the spotlight, and soon the entire world of Gaea would fear the name. Even now, as he held the stone to the light, the flicker of the spirit that would aid them danced within. The Intensified Killing Spirit. In a holding cell on the floating Fortress Vione, a tiny girl cried out, "Momma? Allen? Poppa? Don't leave me alone, no! Don't leave me alone!" As her sobs continued, the small child couldn't hear the hiss of the door as it slid open. Three Zaibach soldiers grabbed her from behind. They pierced her flailing arm with a needle. She was out cold before she hit the floor. Storming through the hallways, the dogman Jajuka followed strategist Folken and his sorcerer cronies. Jajuka was a middle-aged beastman, half hound/ half-human, and had only recently fallen in with Zaibach, after the loss of his family. The room they entered looked like anyone's idea of an evil laboratory. "This is madness, my lord! She's just a child, a young girl!" "It is not your place to question my decisions, Jajuka." Folken glanced at him, the condescending note all too clear, "Here we will witness the true power of Zaibach. Our will makes it so." In a glass tank before them, the little girl floated eerily in a magical fluid, "Of Folken's design, no doubt." Jajuka thought bitterly. "What will be accomplished by this?" Another sorcerer stepped forward, "The Killing Spirit could not exist without a mortal form. We have chosen her as its host, seeing as she was the only one to survive our previous testing." He added icily. "It may take years for both her and the Spirit to merge but, in the end, the Spirit will be a champion of our cause!" Folken gazed almost hungrily at the reflected glory that was, for the moment, a slight, unconscious girl. Though he was only sixteen, he had rapidly risen in rank before being appointed head of this 'experiment'. It was hard to believe that a year before he'd been saved by Zaibach's emperor, with only a stump of an arm. A much more satisfactory metal claw had replaced the limb. Behind him, Jajuka heard General Adelphos mutter, "Demon!" The emperor's right-hand man didn't trust Folken's abilities, unlike the emperor himself. As they filed out silently, Jajuka glanced back, "Heaven help that poor girl's soul." During the years that passed in that liquid prison, a new, subtle change took place. Exactly five years later, the same party returned to the lab. What Jajuka saw when the light fell on the tank took his breath away. There was the tank with the girl except, there was no girl. In her place was a boy but, what a boy! Jajuka felt sure that, even though the boy's eyes were closed, they'd be as pale as his ivory skin and silvery hair. "You see Jajuka? Behold, our intensified Killing Soldier, champion of Zaibach!" Folken gloated, turning to him. General Adelphos glared balefully at the boy's form, "What spawn of hell is this then?" A sorcerer bustled forward. As he approached the glass, the boy's eyes opened. For a moment they glowed red, reflecting weirdly in the water. Instinctually, Jajuka stepped back as the sorcerer drained and opened the tank. The boy fell to the floor and lay crouched as if to pounce. Folken nodded to the sorcerer, who threw the boy a towel, "Here, boy." Jajuka retreated further as the boy stood up, wrapping the towel around his waist. He surveyed them with a red-eyed, animal madness before flinging himself at the sorcerer and grabbing him by the throat, "Help me, l-lord Folken!" the man gasped. All the boy did was snarl and tighten his hold on his victim. Folken stepped forward, clapping his hands twice, "Come now, stop this! Don't you want to know your name?" "Surely this demon-thing doesn't need it?" Adelphos sneered. Jajuka glanced warningly. The boy, on the other hand, had dropped his victim in a heap and was gazing curiously at Folken, "Name?" he hissed, tilting his head to one side. Folken laughed, "Yes, but of course! You do want a name, don't you?" "But what should we call such a child?" Jajuka couldn't accept this 'naming of evil'. "The emperor has already assigned him a name." Folken beckoned to the boy, who hurried forward still wearing nothing but a towel and a look of feral curiosity. "I name you Dilandau Albatou. Dilandau meaning 'great energy', Albatou meaning 'pure, white'. Pure energy." Folken breathed triumphantly. Jajuka watched with a heavy heart as they clothed their creation, "Jajuka, though the boy is under my command, you are to be his trainer and teacher." "Yes sir, General Adelphos." A few months had passed since that fateful night. Ten-year old Dilandau was about to undergo his final right of passage. He stood, gazing over the summer forest garbed in a white tunic and breeches. In his hand he grasped a sword. Jajuka turned to him, "You must slay the dragon that has wandered into our lands and retrieve its energist. When you have done this, you will receive your new guy melef." Dilandau hissed in reply. "You may begin now," added the sorcerer who had accompanied them. Dilandau marched off. The quiet of the forest was broken only by the occasional call of a bird. The terrain was dragon-free as Dilandau stealthily made his own way. A rustling in the branches overhead drew him to a halt. Staring menacingly down at him from fifty feet above was a single, slit yellow eye. Dilandau glared evilly back. The dragon shrieked and lashed out at him, ropes of saliva flying. He dodged easily and sprang onto its back. Running along its scaly hide, he slashed at it mercilessly. The dragon snapped and clawed but he was too quick. With startling precision for his age, he thrust the sword deep into its eye. The dragon yowled with rage and pain, tossing him away. Dilandau landed catlike and threw himself at the soft, exposed underbelly. Whirling his sword like a dancer, he rammed it with all his might into the dragon's heart. As it fell with a tremulous shudder, he wiped its blood from his face. Tearing at the wound in its chest, he drew a fist-sized stone. Jajuka let out a strangled cheer when his charge emerged from the woods. His clothes, so immaculate when he'd begun, were a solid, damp crimson. He strode unblinkingly up to the small group of onlookers. "Five minutes, Fifty seconds." stammered the sorcerer, who'd been keeping time. At this news, General Adelphos let out a hearty guffaw, "Well then, my lad, you've earned a drink, here!" Dilandau took the cup mechanically. He downed the wine in one gulp and, wrenching the bottle from Adelphos, drank deeply. The general laughed harder, "That's it lad, you want your money's worth, eh?" "My lord, make him stop! He'll drink himself sick!" Jajuka tried to grab the bottle but Dilandau spat a mouthful of wine at him and continued to drink. Finishing the wine, he flung the empty bottle aside and wiped his mouth with relish. A string of blood ran across his nose. Glaring with intense dislike at the lot of them, he turned and stalked away still clutching the bloody energist. "Well at least we know he takes alcohol well." Folken quipped wonderingly. Dornkirk sank back into his life-support machine. The emperor of Zaibach was nearly two hundred years old, but he still ruled the nation with an iron fist. He'd been carefully monitoring the little lord Dilandau's fortune and it looked disturbingly clear, "Well Folken, our creation seems to have the gods with him." "I know, majesty. You have heard of his victory against the dragon? Broke all time records." The Zaibach emperor chuckled softly, "He's already made quite a name for himself among the people. Turned him into a bit of a hero." Folken remained silent. "Stop your brooding Folken. I have an interesting bit of news you'll want to hear." "What is it, my lord?" "I have decided to name Dilandau heir to the throne." "Majesty?" Folken was aghast. "Don't feel jealous Folken, you have always been like a son to me. But I obviously can't carry on forever and in the event that you should, er…" There was an uncomfortable pause, "We need a leader like him, someone whom the people will admire, someone who can keep them under control!" Folken paced thoughtfully, "Does the boy know?" "Of course not! I will tell him when I choose." he added, quelling Folken with a look. "Maybe at the upcoming banquet?" On the night of the feast, Jajuka paced restlessly before the seven youths. They had been gathered from the farthest corners of the empire, and of the fifteen that had met qualifications, these seven had come out on top. Jajuka paused to study each of them before beginning. There was sullen, haughty Viole standing by Migel who had been orphaned and raised by Zaibach soldiers. Next to them was Gatti, whose parents had been great strategists until they'd been killed in a mysterious accident. Guimel, who was abandoned, had grown up with Refina in a gypsy caravan. Last (and least by rank) were Dalet and Chesta. Dalet had been discovered in the slimiest of slums and sweet, gentle Chesta, raised in a convent where her mother had died giving birth to her young sister. Under Jajuka's eye, Migel straightened up, a habit born of his soldier's life. The others followed suit, Chesta squealing out of nerves. "You are all very fortunate to be here tonight," Jajuka began, "You've beaten all other competitors for the chance to serve your lord. You must know, you must realise that you've sworn your absolute loyalty to lord Albatou. Your lives are in his hands. If you serve him faithfully, the Dragonslayers will be the idols of the people, but, should you fail, your lives will be forfeit." Refina made a small noise in her throat, many of the others looked uncomfortable and Chesta was absolutely terrified. In a gentler tone, Jajuka continued, "But no matter what people tell you, no matter what he tells you, you are still children and you mustn't expect too much of yourselves." Dalet flounced his hair, insulted, "Children, I'm not a child!" Migel also objected, "I would gladly give my life to serve my lord!" "No!" Jajuka was stricken, "Don't talk that way! Migel you're a boy, one boy. Your life is better if you live it for yourself." The two were taken aback by this outburst. "Come on, the feast is about to begin." The cavernous hall was packed to bursting for the celebration. Dornkirk surveyed the chattering crowd with satisfaction, "Tonight, Folken, a new chapter will be written in our glorious history." Folken didn't reply, his eyes, like the crowd's, were on a figure marching up to the throne. Dilandau glided closer to the throne, his plain white tunic replaced by elaborate black leather and red armour. He approached his emperor as an equal, knelt before the hunched old man as though he was already in command. Dornkirk rose, obtaining the tiara from Folken as he did so. He placed it regally on the boy's forehead where the glinting ruby exactly matched his eyes. The audience roared with appreciation as Dilandau faced them once more. But Folken knew it wasn't over yet. Placing his hand paternally on Dilandau's shoulder, Dornkirk asked for silence, "We are all here tonight in honour of Zaibach's new champion," the crowd cheered, but Dornkirk held up his hand, "But we are also here to celebrate the coronation of my new heir!" The crowd erupted with applause. Quietly, he added, "All those people there, they are now your subjects. You will soon be their emperor." Dilandau looked puzzled and surly, "Emperor?" Long after the feasting had ended, Dilandau was still wide-awake. Draped over his ornate throne, he was busily sharpening knives. When each had been sharpened to a deadly point, he threw it at the wall. There was already a large collection there. He didn't look up when the door slid open, but continued with his blade. Folken stood framed in the doorway, his flowing grey robes a shade darker than his hair, "Having fun?" he hid a satisfied smirk. Dilandau studied the knife for a moment then hurled it forcefully. Folken tilted his head just enough for the blade to skin his ear. It buried itself in the wood paneling, "Oh yes," Dilandau replied absent-mindedly. Folken strode over to the throne, seating himself at its base. "Folken, why don't I have a family?" Folken was slightly put off by this question, "But you do! Jajuka and the Dragonslayers will be your family." Dilandau had run out of knives and fluttered his hands helplessly, "Damn. No, I mean, why don't I have a mother or father?" Just then, General Adelphos entered. He stared at them with pronounced mistrust before heading out onto the balcony, "A demon of hell such as yourself doesn't need parents!" he snapped. Dilandau lapsed into a pensive silence. Folken shot a venomous look at the general's back before answering, "If you want these things, I will be your brother. I have a brother about your age." "I don't want parents! I only wanted to know why!" Dilandau snarled haughtily. Folken turned this information over in his head. "Is your brother dead?" Folken laughed, "Oh no, Van isn't dead! He'll be a right little king of Fanellia." "You're Fanellian?" Folken remembered the lush green country that was his homeland. Dilandau was showing genuine interest, "I heard a Fanellian song the other day," he began to croon a slow, mournful melody. Folken hummed along. He knew the tune well enough, had heard his mother sing it to Van and him enough in their youth. "What were the words?" "I don't remember." "I said, what were the words!" "And I said, I don't remember!" "Hmph! Fine!" Dilandau turned away, pouting. Then he turned back, "You care about your brother?" Folken sighed, "I would change the face of the world for Van. He was such a gentle soul. He'll be a good king." "Gentle eh?" the boy sneered disdainfully. Folken could only grin. Dilandau went to bed with the strange feeling of being smothered. Celena awoke with a start. She felt as if she'd been asleep for centuries. Tears were streaming from her sky blue eyes. The last thing she could remember were descending shadows, a pain in her arm and another person trying to move into her brain, "Allen? Oh momma, where are you?" Just then, Jajuka rushed in. He skidded to a halt when he noticed the girl lying in his master's place, "Oh, by the gods! The experiment failed!" He swooped down on Celena, holding her close and drying her tears, "You poor child! How you must have suffered!" He continued to rock her soothingly, until her cries subsided, "Now listen, my child. If you cry out, or make any noise the sorcerers will come for you. Just try and get some rest and don't worry. I'll be guarding the door." "Wait! Don't leave me!" Celena cried as he left, "I can still hear him inside me!" Reluctantly, she drifted off to sleep, Dilandau's spirit fighting to regain control. When he rose again, Dilandau had no recollection of the previous night. He continued in the motions familiar to him. The fortress Vione was an eerie shell as Chesta wandered its halls. Exhausted as she was by her training, she couldn't sleep. As she passed Lord Folken's room, a shadow leapt out… Dilandau woke up screaming, "Jajuka! Jajuka!" He began to whimper in the back of his throat. The dream he'd experienced seemed so real. Jajuka was by his side almost instantly, "What is it, my lord? Another nightmare?" As Dilandau continued to make inane animal noises, Jajuka couldn't help but pity the beautiful boy of fifteen. "Oh Jajuka, it was so real, so close! I could swear," At the end of his strength, Dilandau sank into the sheets, his head thrown back against the pillow. Jajuka patiently brushed the tears away, "Was it horrible?" "Oh no! It was so, so wonderful!" With a long-suffering sigh, Jajuka prompted the teen on. "I saw, oh Jajuka, I saw a," He suddenly grinned maniacally, leaning in closer he continued in a conspiratorial tone, "I saw a phoenix!" Jajuka mulled this over. His lord rarely had enjoyable dreams, and for such a significant creature to appear, "The phoenix is a symbol of good fortune. If it has appeared to you," "I know the old wives tale, my wishes will come true." Dilandau sat up again, "It means I can finally beat the white dragon, Van de Fanel! The gods have willed it!" Jajuka bristled, disapproving, "You must rest, my lord. If you no longer need me, then I too shall retire." He bustled to the door. Just outside the room, he found Chesta looking very shell-shocked, "What are you doing up at this ungodly hour?" Chesta took a shuddering breath, "Oh, master Jajuka. I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk and I heard Lord Albatou cry out so I thought I'd," She blushed furiously. Jajuka studied the smallest Dragonslayer kindly, "It's all right little one." glancing over his shoulder, he added, "Maybe you could speak to him tonight." At these words, the golden-haired youth flushed deeper, "Oh no! I couldn't do that!" Shaking his head, Jajuka made to leave. "Master Jajuka I really couldn't!" "Dilandau hates a coward." Jajuka stated simply. Swallowing every fear she had and mustering her wan courage, Chesta rapped smartly on the door. Jajuka watched amused, from the darkness. "L-lord Albatou?" she stammered. "What is it," came the sulky reply. Taking what she feared would be her last breath; Chesta entered her lord's chamber. "Um, my lord? I only heard you call and I, I, I" words failed her. Dilandau leapt from the bed, a spring of raging energy, "I am quite fine now, Chesta, thank-you. Please leave." "I, yes my lord." Chesta flitted to the door. Surprising herself, she spun around, "My lord, if you need anything…" Wham, she was thrown to the floor as her lord viciously backhanded her, "I ordered you to leave! I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself!" He snarled. Remembering an interesting element of his dream he turned back, utterly calm. His smallest soldier stood gulping and shivering, jewel-like tears blossoming from her eyes. Dilandau knew what to do, "My poor Chesta, please forgive me! I have been in a bad way." he cooed, drawing the youth close. Chesta was startled, her lord usually abhorred such emotional gestures. Dilandau's elegant hands now wiped the tears from her eyes, "My littlest and loveliest of Dragonslayers, what caused you to awake anyway? Ah, I think I know," he pulled away, leaving Chesta to blush so deeply she appeared tanned, "My lord I," "Shh," placing a finger on her mouth, he continued, "I can see it in your eyes, you've fallen in love!" Chesta shook her head violently, giving herself away. "But, look how cruel fortune is. Your love is in vain?" Finally finding her voice, Chesta spoke, "No, no sir! I do not, erm…" "Who wouldn't want so lovely a girl as you? I have half an idea." Dilandau enjoyed watching the slayer struggle with herself, he hit a nerve. Seating himself regally on his throne, he motioned for the girl to come forward, "Is it that idiot Dalet then?" Chesta paled, gasping, "Oh, Dal-Dalet? I," she shivered again under the garnet stare. Suddenly she remembered, Dalet had stood in the doorway for a long time. His auburn hair was carelessly in his face, veiling his smile. What a teasing smile it had been. What he'd said struck chords in her mind, "It is Dalet, my lord. But I, I really don't mind. I don't think he's an idiot." she murmured. "But Chesta! What love is that? You shouldn't hide your heart away. Go now and don't let that insolent boor hurt you!" Chesta left, her emotions tying knots around themselves. She hardly noticed when she passed Jajuka. She hadn't been able to reveal her secret heart to her lord but, then again, her lord had pointed out someone far more attainable, Dalet. Dilandau giggled wildly to himself as Jajuka entered, "That poor girl looked so upset! She's been eating her heart out for you, my lord!" "I know!" Dilandau cackled merrily, "It was so obvious, it has been so for quite a while." "Then you knew what she was going to say?" Jajuka was floored by such manipulation. Dilandau skipped to bed, unsettlingly happy, "I could never love anyone, Jajuka, so I simply let Chesta's heart gravitate to someone much more suitable." Jajuka suddenly understood the true nature of his lord's scheme, "You clever demon! What other plots are you hatching?" "I have to keep my men's and women's feelings in check. I suppose Refina fancies me as well, but she's grown up with Guimel who would make for a much better husband. I guess I have to help that gravitation too." Dilandau's smile was wickedly becoming. "That's brilliant of you." "I have only to be careful to never erode their loyalties and I can curb anyone's desire." "What of you? You can't live alone either," Jajuka paced the room, wondering if a girl who knew the truth would brave his lord's love. "I have an ideal. Good night Jajuka." he called sweetly. Dilandau let his thoughts settle on the phoenix girl, "I'm so alive, deep inside of you Dilandau. We will meet on a mortal plane soon." "But please, tell me your name!" "Angelea." "Angel of Grace?" She had only laughed softly, her chestnut tresses rippling, before vanishing into his dreams. "It appears as though the Lion of Zaibach has found his Angel of Grace." <> Dilandau <> Fanstuff <> Site <> Sign <> Contact <> a.s.c.e.n.d |