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I don't have any replies to the reviews simply because I'm very tired right now. ;; So, um, read and, if you can, enjoy. By the way this is probably the most IMPORTANT chapter in the whole story. Have fun if you're still here.
The golden grass was different to the ex-assassin this time. She wasn't too fond of it. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that Domovoi was no where near, meaning that she would have to walk. It didn't help that Mark had left their stolen horse for dead as well. At first Aurora felt little empathy for the animal -- it was, after all, nothing more than a mere horse -- but now she wished she had it near for the sole purpose of being able to ride instead of walk.
Mark and Aurora came upon a very large path that led out of the forest and cut directly westward through the plains. The earth had been trampled, the grass had been killed, and tracks from wagon wheels had been left behind. Mark explained that it led to various larger cities in the plains, had many wells stationed near it every few miles, and since animals associated it with humans, it provided safety from any sorts of wild dogs. The two would travel along it for much of their journey. Aurora argued that if anyone were to follow them, they'd make it easy by taking an expected path -- Mark said that walking through the grass and breaking the stalks was just as bad because of the trail it would leave. Thinking about the wells and safety from animals, they agreed on speedily traveling down the main road.
Reading without riding on a bumpy horse was very easy. Aurora found herself stating an occasional quote or two as she flipped through the pages. Mark's reactions were varied -- sometimes he was amused or angry with the text, and on other instances he argued what good reading did anyone... but he seemed oddly proud that Aurora had stolen the book in the first place.
"All written by an elf working as a servant for Lord Yzekro," Aurora murmured as she began reading some of the introduction.
"What's this nonsense about 'Lord?'" Mark asked bitterly. "That man was worse than his accursed necromancer of a son. He doesn't deserve any title except 'bastard'." He kicked a few rocks down the path as he walked.
Aurora ignored his angry comment. "Apparently the author, an elf by the name of Aleat, began writing shortly after Yzekro's takeover of elven DuLexorne. Want me to read some of the text?"
Mark shrugged. "It'll pass the time."
Aurora cleared her throat and began to read, translating the text into the Common Language: "'How does one endure such degrading treatment? And, more importantly, how can one cause such suffering? Even animals can empathize compared to this abominable creature.
"'Yzekro is beyond my current comprehension. His acts are all done in willful knowledge... but without emotion, perhaps? Surely he cannot feel, for then he would curse his own name and end his existence, all to cease the torments of this land. He mustn't have feeling -- he couldn't. Yet... he smiles. I've seen in many a time. But perhaps this is a ruse? Surely he couldn't laugh at such pain? It is impossible. Still, -- '"
Mark briefly cut her off. "He thinks Yzekro is bad? He's lucky he doesn't know of Xanthos!"
Once again Aurora ignored him. She continued. "'Still, I can't help but wonder and fear, pray and curse. I wish to understand this creature, but I want nothing to do with such sadism.
"'These words, kept silent and hidden in my mind for fear of death, must be spoken soon. DuLexorne cannot survive in only the minds of its people. If we are to remove this threat, this 'man'... we must speak now. And, should we fail, we lose more than our lives -- we lose our heritage and history. This sadist had come not for power and wealth, but for raw destruction. He seeks to eliminate us and our culture. But why? What have we done to him, to the world? Or perhaps it is something we didn't do that angered him. And, if we angered him, did we anger the rest of his kind? In the end, I do not know.
"'My name is Aleat, son of Havelk. I am nothing more than a servant now, forced to cook and clean for Yzekro. I am one of many. I do not want my children to see me like this. So, I will write down in this journal and speak of the world, of how it was and how it may change should nothing be done. Children, I may be a servant, but I was originally a gardener, and before that I was a child just like you. My name is Aleat! I am the only son of Havelk! Yzekro may change my very life -- in fact, he may take it. But as long as I speak, he will never take my true existence. I will forever be Aleat! And, thus shall DuLexorne remain the same... if we deem it so. If we choose to keep this land, it will be ours. But if we forget it, we lose memories, beliefs, and lives.
"'I write now to keep my heritage, warn the next generations, and expose the vile creature that is Yzekro. His crimes are shaping both future and past. But, to shape it, he has to tear it from our hands first.'"
Mark didn't seem too terribly impressed. "Well, that guy failed miserably."
"I wonder why Ymenro kept this hidden in the village..." Aurora said. "Something like this would be best out in the open, don't you think? Information is of little value if only one or two know of it."
"You'd be surprised. Withholding knowledge gives people power... and power is priceless in terms of value. Perhaps there's something really important in there that Ymenro doesn't want anyone to know about? Or maybe he'd never actually read it, but just owned it?"
Aurora shrugged, curious but accepting of the fact that she wouldn't find out any time soon.
Mark yawned and stretched as he walked. "Personally, I care little about books and history. They've never done me any good."
"With that attitude, I'm surprised you can even read."
He gave her a playful glare. "I'm sorry, it's just that I never found books to be of any use when all I need to do in life is swing a sword."
"And what of when your job is done? When you're too old to fight?"
His playful glare gave way to a crooked grin. "You mean when I kill Xanthos?"
It took Aurora a great amount of self-control to not pause in her walking. "Yes. When you... kill him."
"I'm gonna move back to Hillorne!" Mark said happily, much like a child. "I'll forget the world and just live my own life. I'll probably be a sword smith, which was my original trade before I was dragged into this war. Curse that damn necromancer..."
"He is quite a hollow character, isn't he?" Aurora said, her voice small.
"Hollow? More than that! He's such a foul bastard. I can't wait until I gut him alive."
The hybrid's feet caught on a few stones, and she nearly tripped. "Gut him?" she asked, her voice weakening ever so slightly. "That's... vivid."
"Gutting him would be merciful, actually," Mark mused. "You have absolutely no idea of the things I've dreamed of doing to him. He's ripped apart my entire life, and has done the same to countless others. No punishment would be enough for him."
"You make him sound like -- "
"Like a sadist? In case you've forgotten, that's what he is." The mercenary gave her an odd look. "Just because you think he's been nice to you doesn't mean he hasn't been terrible to others."
"I know that." She meant her words. "He was very kind to me, but I've seen some of the things he's done. It's just... well, like I said, he was kind to me. And the way you speak of killing him makes you just as much of a sadist."
"Don't start this, Aurora. I am nothing like him."
"Sometimes I wonder, Mark. You can be just as cruel."
"But I haven't lied!" he yelled. "I've never lied, not like him!"
She looked away. "I know. And... that's why I'm not with him anymore, because he lied to me. I just... I can't imagine him dead."
Mark looked like he wanted to say something, but did nothing more than take deep, calming breaths. He looked up at the cloudless blue sky, disappointed and perhaps a bit angry. Aurora didn't care... not too much.
"You do understand that it's my fate to kill him?" he said calmly a few moments later. "When he created the Balance, he made me his future murderer."
"And I am yours, and he is mine," Aurora retorted. "I guess it all depends on who acts first, then?"
Mark was silent for a few more moments, still staring up at the sky. "Walk down my path for a moment, will you? He's a mass-murdering bastard who has caused widespread suffering. If you were me, you'd want him dead, too. You'll understand when you see Hillorne again."
To that she had no reply.
---
Feverish fingers danced along thin, worn pages. The gleam in Xanthos's eyes was both desperate and hopeful. This was his last chance.
Aurora...
The necromancer had secured his privacy in a small, relatively undamaged home in the Sulnorian city. He could hear the conversations of soldiers, and the occasional celebratory cheer, but he cared not. Nothing could distract him from what he was about to do, and he would kill anyone who attempted to bother him, even Nara.
The Book of Souls was open before him. He was looking not at his destined page, but instead at another. The text, written in black sprawl, was terribly old and hard to read. A blue light, the color of shallow ocean water, glimmered along the page. A comforting warmth came from it. However, there was something about it's mystique that frightened him.
"Tabula Rasa," Xanthos breathed. His eyes scanned the glow carefully. "It's weakening."
Indeed, the glow, while strong, seemed oddly transparent in places. Substance seemed to be lacking.
He tore his eyes away from the spell and flipped through the tome, heading to his original goal. The black lettering here was of a different handwriting. The Book of Souls had many authors.
"She mustn't be too far away," he said, worried. "I cannot communicate with her if... no, I mustn't think like that. I've done far more powerful things in the past. I will be able to handle this."
He read the words on the page many times over, but not with his mind really behind it. Thinking was often as bad as speaking. He wasn't ready to do anything just yet.
Xanthos gripped the book to stop his hands from shaking. His stomach was twisted in knots. "I'm... going to see her..."
He realized then that he was as calm as he'd ever be. Shaking sickly, he began to concentrate on the words.
Aurora...
The world darkened around him slowly. His thoughts echoed loudly as his perception changed. Staring at his hands, he watched as they changed color, shifting to a rainbow of hues. The room disappeared as drowsiness overcame him. The temporary enchantment was taking effect.
Xanthos didn't feel it when he fell to the floor. But, as he closed his eyes, he did feel something else -- the presence of another nearby.
---
Mark had wandered off at about midday. He had said something about hunting, and told Aurora to stay put alongside the road, hidden in the grass. Quiet and rather bored, she did as she was told, using the chance to read even more of the stolen book.
About an hour passed by. At this point Aurora was beginning to grow annoyed. How long did it take to hunt? Surely there were some small creatures that were edible and that Mark could get his hands on. Aurora envisioned DuLexorne, and her mind filled with snakes and sand scampers.
He's probably trying to catch some... mammal, Aurora thought a bit bitterly. He won't get back until sundown at this rate.
Just thinking about having to sit around for even longer made Aurora sleepy. She could catch up on rest with all this unused time. But, sleeping alone was a sure way to get caught in a bad situation. Still, the originally scratchy and dirty grass now seemed oddly comfortable. It wasn't too long before Aurora caught herself yawning.
Hurry up, Mark.
A few minutes later her patience had begun to wane, but her self-control kept her in place. It was also at about this time that she heard the grass rustle loudly behind her, and felt the presence of another nearby. Instinctively she turned... but saw no one. She assumed it was a mammal or lizard of some sort and ignored it.
Unfortunately, the sensations came several more times. And with each occurrence, she felt certain that another was nearby. The hairs on the back of her neck were upright.
What in hell is going on?
Was Mark perhaps playing a trick on her? She looked for his form, thinking that he might have somehow hidden expertly in the grass. Her thoughts then turned negative -- had soldiers somehow sneaked up on her? Successively her mind went through a series of possibilities before being shot down by facts. The stalks of grass had been untouched. There was no one near.
Another yawn hit her. This one was sudden and dizzying. A wave of drowsiness, almost consuming, washed over her. Her muscles began to weaken considerably and her world began to darken.
"Wh-what's going on?!"
Hardly a moment later she couldn't move. She found herself laying the grass, struggling to so much as twitch. Her entire body hadn't seized up -- no, it was just ignoring her. Immobile and stunned, she could nothing but lay in silence as her mind went wild.
The world was fading, losing itself in a black haze as her vision dimmed and her eyes began to close. She couldn't cry out for help, and doubted that Mark was even nearby. All she could do was... nothing.
---
It was illogical to say that as Aurora closed her eyes she also opened them. However, it happened. Her view of the world dissipated. The blue sky was gone, along with the endless expanse of golden grass. Now all she saw was darkness, complete and enveloping. She wondered briefly if she was dreaming, but everything seemed far too real. She was still very much awake.
"Where am I?" she asked. She glanced around quickly, once again expecting someone to be nearby. There had to be a reason for feeling a presence nearby. But, she saw no one.
Aurora, in her glancing, saw the floor beneath her feet -- or rather, the lack of it. She was standing on black air. Everything around her was without color, without even a visible existence. Surprise took hold of her, tensing her body and causing her to inhale. Everything was impossible... yet...
"I guess I am dreaming," she concluded a bit early. Yet, she had a sense of self and sense of control that was beyond any dream she had ever had.
Taking slow, steady steps, she moved forward across the void. It was all very surreal. Where was she, and how did she get there? Several times she looked around for any sort of clue, or a piece of where she had previously been.
"I'm dreaming," she said again. "There's no other way... nothing possible -- "
A sudden flicker of light filled the corner of her left eye, and once again she felt another's presence. She didn't have time to turn before a voice spoke out to her.
"You're not dreaming... but it's close."
The charming voice that spoke out to her was familiar and comforting... but also instilled a great fear that shook her to her core. Her eyes took on an icy stare of feigned apathy, but her heart was racing. She couldn't breathe.
Xanthos...!
She pivoted, taking a defensive stance as her right hand shot to her hip. Her fingers closed around the hilt of the sword at her side, and as she pulled it out of her sheath her eyes locked onto a blurry figure many steps away. She had to blink several times to believe what she was seeing.
"X-Xanthos?"
There was a vividly bright figure standing there, enveloped in a field of colored light. It was him.
What?!
She continued to blink as fear and dread raced through her. "No, this isn't possible," she breathed. "I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming..."
But it was him. He stood there, motionless, smiling at her. One of his hands rested on the hilt of his sword, and he was tapping his fingers incessantly on the metal and decorative rubies set in it. His smile grew.
"A dream? No, this is very real, Aurora," he said with that same charming smile. "You seem fearful. Did you not miss me?"
He took several steps in her direction, his boots echoing on the nothingness below him. He was literally a figure of light. His entire being composed of nothing more than illusory hues. The lights shimmered and transformed, glowing a rainbow of colors and sometimes even dimming to black. Aurora had never been in a drug-induced state before, but she supposed that it was something akin to what she was witnessing. Yet, everything had a very clear description the more she focused. Xanthos looked solid, looked real, despite the lights. She could clearly identify the boots he always wore, the usual pants and shirt he used to wear in DuLexorne, and even saw every little detail of his sword.
Aurora looked down at her hands. She was in the same situation as him, being composed entirely of light. However, the colors weren't bright, and she was able to see through the weak light. While Xanthos appeared to be a solid block of glowing colors, she was a mere phantom. By looking at herself, she suddenly felt frail. She had to control herself so as to not fall to her knees.
"Stay away from me," she ordered, pointing her sword at him. He didn't stop in his procession, and she began to back away in return. Their steps were in sync.
It was then as she held up her sword that she noticed something else about herself. Her clothing was different. It was a white shirt and black pants, the exact same as what she had worn in DuLexorne. Her sword was different, too. It was also the same as the one she had in DuLexorne.
"This can't be..." she breathed.
"Oh, look upon the wonders of necromancy," he said, and an appreciative chuckle followed. "Incredible, isn't it, how a magic can cross over out of its field? Neither of us are dead, after all. Is it necromancy, then?"
There was something very unsettling about Xanthos. He didn't seem like himself. There was something off in his eyes. To be honest, Aurora wasn't very surprised. She had, after all, betrayed him in more ways than one. She feared what was going on his head.
"One could argue that this is telepathy," he continued as he walked toward her. "We are both mentally connected. Yet, it is because of the Book of Souls that I am able to do this. That is for necromancy. So, what am I? A jack-of-all-trades, perhaps? Ah, the soul, aura, and mind... they are very confusing. Or should I say 'it?'"
Aurora took a very brief glance behind her to check the darkness. Behind her was an infinite expanse of it -- she could move on and on forever, away from him. Yet, it was still his domain.
He glanced down at his figure and chuckled, then his eyes met her own. "Ah, you chose this form? Do you find it appealing, or comforting? For yours, I find it mostly comforting due to it's familiarity. You always dressed like that, every day."
"Chose? What are you talking about?" she asked quickly.
"You chose this physical form for me," he said with a smile. "The way I am... this is the way you perceive me. Our minds are connected right now," he gestured to the darkness around him, "in this nonphysical area I created. And, as our minds are touching, we both have very limited control over one another. Our images are mere reflections of how we perceive each other. But, that's all we can control."
His explanation made enough sense for her to understand that she was in a helpless situation, completely dependent upon him. It was an area he created, and she was now trapped within.
Aurora didn't understand at first why they were both made up of colors and lights, but then something came to her. Xanthos said that they were mentally connected.
"Is this... is this my aura?" she asked weakly, looking down at her translucent self.
"Yes," he said. "Try to control your fear, love. The colors are very easy to see."
The colors represent emotions?
She tried to immediately figure out which color represented what, but when Xanthos sped up his pace as he walked toward her, she could only concentrate on moving further away from him.
He suddenly came to a stop, his smile turning into a frown. "You're running from me. Where would you go, love? To the East? To Mark?" His colors shimmered rapidly, darkening. "You can't do that here. All that's left here is me."
His words, along with his aura, caused such a paranoid and consuming fear that she couldn't breathe. A headache hit her immediately as her brain seemingly split over her views of him. Images of Mark and his anger flashed before her eyes, and then one of them both as teenagers. The fear grew, and with it came anger. All rational thought left her, and a small voice in her head took over and spoke.
He... deserves... to die for what he did to us! part of her began to scream, swallowed by rage.
"I... I hate you," she growled, shaking. Her own aura was chaotic. "Everyone... hates you! I can't wait... to spit on your grave... when Mark slaughters you! You... you bastard!"
Another headache hit her, and she began to come to her senses. It was the memories of her old self, and it had all taken over.
Xanthos blinked in minor shock, but then smiled slightly. "How intriguing..." he said, staring at her torso.
Aurora glanced down, noting that the dim transparency of her aura was now pierced by bright splotches of vibrant color. But, the more that she went back to her normal self, they began to fade away.
"You don't hate me," he said in what would have been a soothing voice, but his aura burst into a flurry of hues. "You never have."
I always have, the younger voice within her said.
Xanthos resumed his journey towards her. "How could you have left me like you did?" he asked. "What happened?"
She battled with the teenage girl in her head and spoke. In the end, they both came to a compromise. "Mark knew the truth, and unlike you, he was willing to tell me."
"So you just went away with him, and forgot all about me?" he hissed.
She immediately shut up the girl. "Not quite. I wanted to talk with Mark, not go with him. He forced me... and he killed Leon."
"Yet you never escaped? Don't tell me that Foren trains its men better than I trained you?"
At a loss for words, she only looked away.
"I knew bad things would happen when you captured him," he said with a shake of his head. "It was your curiosity that warned me. It got the better of both of us. Now, let's end this ridiculous game. Come back to me, and I will forgive you." He held out his hand as he moved toward her.
The girl took over, and once again Aurora was overtaken by the paranoid fear and anger.
"You... you hurt me," she breathed, talking with shaky words. "When I told you about Mark, you gripped my arms so tightly that I bruised. Then when I hesitated in shooting him, you hit me."
His eyes briefly widened. "Aurora..."
She sped up her backwards pace to get away from him. He closed his eyes, looking sorrowful.
"Please, don't run from me," he pleaded, and in that voice she heard a tone of both obsession and desperation. The colors of his aura shimmered rapidly, like a stone thrown into a pond. It wasn't stable. "I don't want to hurt you. I never have."
His words did not stop her motions. He shook his head, displeased, and quickened his pace to catch up with her.
"Don't do this to me," he begged, visibly upset. His aura was shifting faster than ever. "I've only ever cared for you. You know that. Everything I did was for your sake. I took you in, gave you a home and a purpose when you were abandoned by Mark."
This defied much of what she knew was the truth. "Mark didn't abandon -- "
"Ten years ago, he escaped DuLexorne and left you there. Who are you going to believe, the man that left you or that one that saved you?"
"You lied to me. You told me that -- "
"It was all for you!" he roared, his voice echoing in her ears. "Everything! Do you know how long I have protected you and provided for you?! And all I get in return is betrayal! How could you do this to me?!"
His angry outburst was quick and temporary. After the last yell he saw Aurora's anxiety and froze. No longer coming after her, he stood in silence and then rose his hands in a peaceful gesture.
"I've only ever tried to show you kindness," he said, his voice back to its desperation. "No one else in all of Ésalno has made me do such a thing, love. You are unique."
His frozen position caused her movements to stop. Calming slightly down, she knew that in a way she had control -- he was trying his hardest to make her listen, and would do anything he could to succeed. But she feared a possible explosion of rage. Glancing around the darkness, she knew it was of his creation and simultaneously knew that he would have to release her of his own will. She held limited power of him, but he held full power over their connected minds.
I need to get on his good side. If he snaps...
Aurora steadied herself and took a few breaths. She willed the teenager to go away, and she complied. "You're right. No one has ever shown me as much kindness as you have."
He smiled. The smile was quick, hopeful, desperate. Happiness glimmered in his eyes. "Yes."
"But why am I unique, Xanthos?"
"Because you changed me, Aurora. Don't you remember how? Here, let me show you."
He placed his hands at his temples, closing his eyes and murmuring soft, carefully chosen words. Aurora watched as a blindingly bright spot of pink light glowed between his eyes. Then it moved from his figure completely, traveling to the gap between them both.
"Watch and remember."
The orb of light split into two, and those two transformed into distinct figures. One was of a younger Xanthos, perhaps in his mid-twenties. The other was of a very happy and childlike Aurora. The figure was scarless.
"That's... us," the real Aurora breathed. She watched as her miniature, younger self walked with Xanthos, her mouth spilling silent words. Though she was ecstatic, her companion seemed only lightly -- and politely -- amused.
"We were young, you especially," Xanthos narrated with a fond smile as the figures continued to move about. "You were so incredibly innocent, and malleable. It was perhaps this childlike nature that I found so captivating. I wasn't like you. One could argue that I was cold and cruel. I had spent my childhood learning the ways of war and death, and never had time for love, friendship or companionship of any kind. People learned to fear me because of my nature. But when I met you, I found that you didn't fear me. You couldn't remember anything -- a clean slate, if you will. Since you didn't even know who I was, you didn't know of my... reputation. You were incredibly friendly and informal, and followed me along wherever I went. So, while most men sought to escape from my presence as soon as possible, you were the exact opposite. I was first intrigued, and then grew to truly enjoy your presence."
The figures switched suddenly. They were now both holding swords, and exchanging short but swift blows. The miniature Aurora wasn't doing too well.
"You were young, you were beautiful, and you were hated," Xanthos continued. "Until the arrival of the mutt Theo, you were the only person of elven lineage living in DuLexorne. Everyone else had been slaughtered or chased away by my late father. Many people thought you were a freak. So, I began to give you lessons in sword fighting so that you could defend yourself." He suddenly gave a guilty smile. "You were also part of the Balance, so you were valuable to my cause. I would apologize for thinking like that... but I'm not sorry. In fact, I'm glad. You were a great help to me, and if I hadn't trained you either way, I wouldn't be who I am today."
She understood completely, and touched the scar on her face rather affectionately. It was feature that most people found unflattering, but she liked it best.
The smaller Xanthos slashed his sword at the smaller Aurora. She wasn't quick enough to block properly, and the ruby-encrusted blade slashed her cheek open. She fell on her butt, mostly out of shock rather than pain. Droplets of crimson light fell from her face and vanished.
"I was always calm, charming, and proper," Xanthos said as his imitation ran over to the injured hybrid's side. "But then I forgot all about who I was and thought only of you. The war didn't matter, I didn't matter... only you mattered."
"I remember how Leon cleaned my cut and bandaged it," she said with a smile, suddenly no longer fearful of him. A powerful longing welled up within her. "You stood outside, but kept peeking in through the doorway. You were so concerned about me. I told you over and over again that I was all right and that it was only a scar, but you wouldn't listen. You were near tears."
He laughed. "I was, wasn't I? Even Leon was getting a bit annoyed with me, though he never said anything."
She, too, laughed. It was unlike the current assassin, and more like the childlike figure below... and drastically against the other girl within her mind. "Afterwards, you had trouble going back to who you were. You were never so formal with me again. I think that was when our friendship really began."
"Once I had calmed down, we laughed together about the incident."
"Yes, and I think that was the first time we truly laughed together. Your heart was actually in it, unlike all the other times."
"Do you remember how you said that you'd give me a scar to match yours?"
"And you said that I was allowed to try any time I liked if I could catch you."
She hadn't noticed that the glowing figures had disappeared, and that Xanthos had taken several calm steps forward in the time that they had been speaking. When she did take note, a quick pang of fear hit her. What was she doing, talking with him... laughing with him? She quickly took a step back, but that was all she got. His hand shot out and grabbed her left arm.
"Please, I beg of you," he breathed. "Don't leave me. Please."
She couldn't breathe, and felt the smothering of the darkness around her. But then he let go of her arm. She inhaled, sharply at first, then began to take in calm breaths. Her eyes focused on his aura. It had stabilized. Suddenly she couldn't move away from him -- she couldn't will it of herself. Now the darkness was oddly... comforting. It held her securely and warmly.
Xanthos took two small steps, closing the gap between them. She could hear his illusory breathing, could feel the false heat emanating from him. "You..." he began almost weakly, then took a shuddering breath, "you mean the world to me, love. I want -- I need you."
---
"Aurora? Aurora!" Mark let out a low growl after his cries. He angrily shook the two rabbits he held, which were the products of his hunt. It was incredible what a good trap made from sticks and grass could get you. "For the love of whatever god you worship, come out!"
He had not, by all means, gotten lost. Having followed his own trail through the grass back to her spot, he was able to see it clearly in the distance. Originally he had called out to her to gleefully show her the rabbits, but she didn't respond. It wasn't like her.
Thoughts of a trap entered his mind a bit late. Perhaps she had somehow been caught by someone, or the victim of some other ill fate? However, these ideas presented themselves much after his original calling. Noting his error, he immediately dropped the rabbits and drew his sword -- he wasn't the best at stealth or common sense for that matter, but he was still capable of murder... easily.
Having grown up in the plains of the East, Mark knew to crouch down and minimize his rather bulky frame. He moved slowly through the grass towards Aurora's last known spot, hoping that nothing would be wrong.
When he arrived, he found that... nothing was wrong at all. Aurora was still there, and asleep.
"Taking a nap, eh?" he said with a chuckle. "A good way to spend the spare time, I suppose."
He smiled and put his sword away, then ran back to the rabbits he had abandoned. He would skin them, cook them, and dry any meat that was left over. He returned to their little spot a second time and laid the mammals out on the ground in front of him, then glanced over at the female nearby.
I should wake her up so she doesn't miss the meal.
He kneeled in the grass beside her and nudged her gently. "Aurora, time to get up." When she didn't move, he nudged her a bit harder. "C'mon. Get up."
This was odd -- most people, at this point in time, usually began to groggily murmur something at the very least. Aurora, however, was motionless and in very deep sleep.
Carefully Mark pulled one of her eyelids back, and to his surprise, he found that her eyes were not moving rapidly but instead were fixed in place. When exposed to the bright sunlight, her pupil contracted immediately... but she did not wake, and no other effects occurred.
"Aurora?"
Mark was beginning to worry now. He shook her a bit roughly, but to no avail. She wouldn't wake.
"Aurora?!"
---
Xanthos's voice was so incredibly weak, yet his aura was shining brightly and no longer shimmering. It was a rainbow, complete with every color in varying degrees and amounts, but with a soft overtone of pink and silver. His breathing was shallow and rapid.
"You need me, too," he stated with a gentle smile, and then took her hand. He held it softly, looking down at the translucent shades fondly. "We can make each other complete."
She didn't have a response ready and even if she had, she was taken aback when he moved to take her other hand in his own. Having forgotten that she still held her sword, she ended up dropping it immediately upon contact. The sound of it hitting the invisible floor below was akin to a church bell ringing in the distance.
Slowly, Xanthos lifted up her hands and kissed the tops of each one. The warmth from the affectionate gesture began to spread throughout her entire form. "We made each other who we are. Do you deny this?"
"... no," she said, and realized her voice was as weak as his.
Their eyes caught, and in that gaze Aurora saw something both comforting and frightening. Xanthos wasn't lying in the least. He cared about her, and truly needed her. The Lord of DuLexorne, the most powerful man in all of Ésalno, needed her.
After a few moments he lowered her hands... and then placed his own at her waist. His touch was oddly calming and captivating. Then, wordlessly, he kissed her.
This was, if Aurora counted correctly, the third time he bestowed upon her such affection. Both times before she had ignored his advances, though had not pushed him away. Each time she had been too stunned or in denial over the events and her own emotions. This time was different.
His kiss was gentle and light, and he almost pulled back away from her before she finally responded. Her response was delicate and timid, a shy attempt at affection. She felt his body freeze momentarily at her actions, and they both pulled away. His eyes were wide and stunned. Aurora felt heat in her cheeks, and saw her own aura shimmer rapidly as mingled emotions washed over her.
His shocked expression faded quickly, replaced by a smile. Then he leaned in and kissed her for the fourth time in her life. He held her closer this time, losing himself in the hope of it all, and bringing her with him. There was enough happiness and comfort in his kiss for both of them.
Aurora, for the first time in a long time, was lost for all words and analyzations. She thought nothing through to the end and only reacted, obeying the part of her that had grown to know her mentor and friend so well. In her mind, her thoughts were fragmented -- she imagined him, DuLexorne, and little else. If she ever knew what home was, she was finding it in him. She was finding it in a mass-murderer, in the son of a master of genocide, in a cruel and powerful leader. She was finding happiness in him, and he was finding it in her.
Xanthos did not release her afterward, but instead held her tightly. She could feel him shaking ever so subtly. Still unlike the assassin she was supposed to be, she allowed herself to be surrounded by his warmth and said nothing, oddly content. It was only many moments later that he murmured something soothingly to her that she could not hear. The false beating of his illusory heart had drowned out the words.
His fingers moved gently from around her and instead up to her face. He kissed her again, very gently. "We feel the same." His eyes drifted across her as he smiled.
Aurora looked down at herself. She was still without substance but... her aura was shining a beautiful shade of pink. His was the same.
"You mean the world to me," he breathed. "Aurora, I love you. I'd do anything for you. This war, Foren, Ésalno itself... none of it matters. Only you matter. I love you."
She looked at him and saw the happiness in his eyes. And yet...
This pain in my head... it's coming back.
There was another light kiss. Then his lips moved away from her own and traveled across her cheek, to her jaw line, to her neck. Aurora struggled so as not to lose herself once more.
"Come back to me," he breathed heavily in her ear. "We can make things right. Please..."
The headache was coming back. She struggled against it, but accepted how it broke the pleasure. She wasn't lost anymore. Clear thoughts began to came back. "Xanthos... you said that... Ésalno means nothing to you...?"
His breath was becoming even heavier as he continued in his affections. "Nothing at all."
"Even the war?"
There was no pause, no hesitancy. "Even the war. I'll give it all up for you, Aurora."
The assassin cared little about the millions of lives that would be lost in any sort of battle. She cared even less about the millions that could be saved. But she knew how much he wanted power. It was incredible that he was willing to throw it away so easily.
Unwillingly, her thoughts switched to Mark. The headache hit her hard and she let out a deafening scream, pulling away from Xanthos and stumbling backwards.
"Aurora?!" he cried, worried and confused. "What's wrong?!"
Images of Mark, of his younger self and that of him currently, flashed in her vision. The voice of the child within her took over.
"He... he wants the war to end," she breathed, shaking from head to toe.
Xanthos watched, unable to do anything. "What? He? Who are you -- "
More images flashed, and she screamed again, cradling her head. She couldn't see anything outside the millions of images. Xanthos had suddenly disappeared in it all. "So many people are dead... my mother... my father... Mark wants Xanthos's head, and I can't blame him. I want his head, too. I want him to die..."
Xanthos didn't know he couldn't be seen. He watched with worrisome eyes... but they narrowed quickly. "Mark...? That idiot boy who tried to kill me ten years ago... and the one who took you away."
Aurora was beginning to rip out some of her hair, and let out cries of pain every few moments. "I could end the war...! I could end the suffering...! That's what Mark wants...!"
Very suddenly, she glanced up. The visions of Mark, smiling, began to fade. Now, all she saw was Xanthos, standing silently before her.
The child within her let out a scream of anguish and anger. But in her eyes, there was terror. "You should die! I hate you!"
"You don't hate me," he said, his voice too calm.
"I've ALWAYS hated you! You... you killed..."
She couldn't take anymore. Her vision was filled with tears and she fell to her knees in the darkness as the pain began to recede. The child was finally silenced.
Xanthos took a few cautious steps forward, staring intently. "Are you done now?" His voice sounded cold and cruel, much unlike how it had been before. "Who am I speaking to?"
Aurora wiped her eyes and looked up at him. But, she got a glimpse of her hand in it all, and she had to do a double take. Her aura had brightened greatly. Now, even more solidity had returned.
Next when she looked up, he was smiling. "You really need to stop with these outbursts," he said.
"Xanthos... what happened to me in the past? Why can't I remember everything?"
He frowned. "Aurora -- "
"Don't tell me you don't know, or that I'm better off not knowing the truth! Xanthos, tell me now! I can only remember things back to when I was sixteen! But now Mark has come and... things are coming back! How did it get that way, Xanthos?! What happened ten years ago?!"
"I won't tell you."
She stared at him, unable to believe the apathy in his voice. "You know... but you won't -- "
"Don't ask me again, you'll never find out, love." His eyes narrowed. "Now enough with this nonsense. You're going to come back to DuLexorne with me, understand?"
"And are you still willing to forget about the war?"
"If you insist upon it. I told you, you mean everything to me. Now -- "
"If I mean everything, then tell me what happened!"
"No."
"Xanthos! You have to!"
His aura flashed crimson with anger. "I don't have to do anything! I'm the most powerful man in the world! If I don't want to tell you, then I won't!"
"Then at least tell me why!"
"It's because I love you, not the girl inside of you! I love you just the way you are now, not as a fucking Easterner! I don't care about the person you once were, and neither should you! She's not important! I love you, not her!"
"But... we're the same."
"NO!" he screamed. "You are not the same! Once upon a time, perhaps... but not now! You are a cold-blooded murderer, and she was nothing! She was Eastern scum! You couldn't be any more different from her if you tried! Now let her go, Aurora! Forget the past! It has nothing to do with who you are now!"
"Xanthos... did you cause this? Did you cause me to forget everything?"
His aura shimmered rapidly and he growled. "What?! Don't look at me like that! I'm a necromancer, not a -- "
"But you created this place, didn't you? You said you were a 'jack-of-all-trades.' Xanthos -- "
"Do you not trust me?!"
"Xanthos -- "
"DO YOU NOT TRUST ME?!"
His aura wasn't stable. He approached her quickly and she backed away just as fast, watching as his aura seemed to pulsate so fast that his form blurred.
"End this nonsense!" he screamed at her. "I raised you! You are mine! You belong to me! You will do as I say, when I say it! You will never ask me these questions again, you will return, and we will both be happy! Do you understand?!"
"No."
Her single word was simple and cold. The assassin, not the girl, looked upon him with emotionless eyes. She had been in the dark for far too long.
His aura froze for the briefest of seconds, and then his fist hit her in the mouth. "You mutt! You Eastern wench!" he screamed as she stumbled back, covering her lips with her hands. "Know your place!" He aimed to hit her again, his entire form ablaze with red light. She dodged and he missed, barely. "You're going to end this game!"
"No!"
He paused momentarily, staring at her as she rejected him a second time. Then, he laughed. It was a short laugh, one that Aurora was familiar with. It sent shivers down her spine. She watched as he licked his lips and cracked his knuckles. His laugh was, on occasion, heard in the dungeons in DuLexorne. It was the laugh of a sadist, and it was being directed right at her. Aurora sensed the danger she was in, and backed away from him and his humor.
"You stupid woman," he breathed with a chuckle. "You dare defy me? I made you who you are, and I control this place we're in as well." The chuckle grew. "I thought I taught you better than this." Now he was laughing fully. "Would you ask for forgiveness now, or would you bite your tongue and hold onto your pride?"
She didn't respond as her eyes searched the blackness. Was he lying to her? Was he the only way out of the place they were in? Sweat began to dampen her forehead.
"Pride, then?" he inquired joyfully. "Fine. Let's see how long it'll take until you beg to have me back."
He aimed another hit at her face and her instincts kicked in. She set her eyes upon his motions and began to calculate, timing her reactions to avoid danger and retaliate. But, the Balance wasn't healing her wounds because he was the one dealing them. He could kill her, she could kill Mark, Mark could kill him. There was no possible way she could win against him, and she didn't know how to get out.
---
Mark's worry and frustration were beginning to get the better of him. He never had been the sharpest thinker in the world, nor was he very calm. He continued to shake Aurora... until something caught his eye.
"Hmm?"
There was something dripping from the corner of her mouth. Mark took a closer look and saw that the crimson droplets were blood.
"Wh-what?!"
There was blood steadily moving from her lips and down her face. He pulled her lower lip back and gasped when he saw that her teeth had gone straight through her lip, almost all the way. The injured area began to puff and swell. Mark nearly screamed.
"Oh gods... wake up, Aurora! Please, wake up!"
She was completely immobile, save for her breathing. Blood continued to dribble from her mouth, and cut after cut opened on her face. She was beginning to bruise in places. Yet, there was nothing evident or physical that was hurting her.
Then, her head snapped back as if from some force. More blood came from her mouth. He watched helplessly as her entire body convulsed a moment later, and he heard something crack.
Mark was desperate. He shook her too roughly, almost violently, begging for her to wake up. He couldn't understand what was going on.
"Only he can hurt you... but... he's not here!"
---
The desperate fight continued onward. Aurora grew fearful in her helplessness. She tried to conserve her energy and was doing little more than dodging and running from him, beating him in speed. Meanwhile, she tried to think of a way to free herself and came up with nothing. She hadn't created the shadowy confinement. Was Xanthos perhaps truthful in saying that he alone was the key to her release?
On occasion, Xanthos would hit his mark and let out an almost childish, gleeful laugh. Aurora would stumble and compose herself as quickly as possible, all the while needing to evade his next onslaught. Her aura was slightly unstable with fear, and, to her eternal horror, white splotches were beginning to appear like bruises on her aura. Despite being nothing more than light, everything felt very real to her. Fatigue was beginning to take hold, along with pain.
Eventually his knuckles landed perfectly on her jaw just as the fatigue was slowing her. She lost her footing and stumbled, and the advantages were all his. He hit her again and again and very quickly Aurora felt herself weak and sick. His knee collided with her stomach and she doubled over, unable to breathe. All she could do was hold her arms up in front of her in defense. He quickly knocked them aside and after another good hit, her head snapped back. He kicked her then and his boot hit her rib cage; she heard a crack and she couldn't breathe.
He paused momentarily, taking in a great amount of air with each breath. The smile on his face, in all it's possessiveness and cruelty, made her very fearful. She stumbled back a bit, and he made no move to go after her.
"You could have had it all," he breathed. "Now you will have nothing. You are filth, an Easterner, and shall be treated as such."
"Would," she gasped, choking on her words from the pain, "you... kill me... Xanthos?"
There was a maniac glint in his eyes. "What did you call me?!"
She was attacked again, briefly but fiercely. Once again she could only weakly defend herself. He screamed at her as he beat her.
"You will call me Lord!" he roared. He kicked her again and she fell to the ground. "I am your Lord, I am your Master... I am your God!"
He kicked her mercilessly, over and over, and Aurora couldn't even cry out in pain. She tried to move but she wasn't fast enough, and when her hand got in the way, she felt her wrist break from the collision.
"Beg!" he screamed. "Beg!"
She refused to do such a thing, and he kicked her even harder. Looking at her aura, she saw that much of it was covered in white, and that it had diminished greatly. A terror came over her.
"You belong to me! I will break you of your defiance, and you will come back! No one goes against me! Or do you want to die instead?!"
The small voice of the girl within her said that she didn't want to die. The fear was overwhelming. But... was it from her current self or the old?
Her lack of a response threw Xanthos into such a wrath that he let out a cry unlike anything she had ever heard.
"I'll kill you here and now!"
Aurora wasn't able to move. She saw him move so that he was standing above her, and he raised his leg so that he could stomp his boot down on her neck.
---
Mark watched as the wounds grew worse and worse, and while he didn't know how Xanthos was harming Aurora, he knew that it had to be him. A guilt unlike any other overtook him, and tears began streaming down his ago he had left her in DuLexorne, all alone and at the mercy of the most powerful man in Ésalno. Now he was by her side... but could do nothing. He was confused and helpless, staring weakly down at her form.
"Wake up! WAKE UP! P-please..."
He took his canteen and poured the water on her face. It did nothing but wash away some of the blood on her skin.
There was another crack and Mark saw that her left wrist had been broken. Her skin was very pale and her breathing was labored. He pressed his shaking fingers to her neck and felt her pulse. It was very weak.
Mark shoved his fist into his mouth to muffle his own scream of anguish. He had found her after many years of believing that she was beyond all hope. Would his own god be cruel enough to take her away from him?
All I wanted to do was protect her and I failed! he thought. The word "protection" echoed in his mind. He looked down at her wounds and he thought of another thing to try.
"God help me," he breathed before raising his hand. He didn't want to hurt her, and it sickened him that he would. "Aurora, I'm sorry."
His hand slapped across her face with an incredible amount of force, knocking her head to the side. A red mark quickly spread across her face and the palm of his hand immediately. There was a gasp of breath and her eyes opened, and in them he saw a paranoid fear.
"Aurora?!"
She let out a weak scream and then a moan of pain. She glanced around, and her eyes settled briefly on Mark.
"M-mark..."
"Yes, it's me!" he said, smiling desperately. "I'm here, don't worry!"
"Xa-an--"
"He's not here! You're safe!" But was she?
There was a feeble cough, and blood came forth from her mouth. Aurora had trouble coughing it up from the pain -- Mark could only watch in despair, occasionally letting out incomprehensible murmurs of fright and anger. Her wounds were serious, and he was helpless. He couldn't remember a time in the past when Aurora was ever wounded badly. As a young child, she was never so unlucky -- and when she was drawn into the Balance, things were easier. But now...
"I'll kill him... I'll kill the bastard," he breathed, running his hands over her ribcage to count the broken bones. There were at least three. His vision suddenly blurred, and he wiped his face to find more tears there.
Between coughs, Aurora released either a pained cry or fearful exclamation. Her eyes were darting from right to left, on and on, never ceasing. Her face was unnaturally pale save for where the blood and bruises had soiled her features, and she shook terribly. Her scarce words were indistinguishable, hampered by coughs and blood.
Mark didn't need to hear any of her words. The look in her eyes told him enough. They had a dying, betrayed, broken quality about them, like shattered glass. Then there was the fear, the paranoia... The two emotions embraced each other openly in her eyes. Her abuse had been far more than just physical. Her usual apathy (save for annoyance) was gone completely. For an assassin, she was quite emotional. Mark knew that she would be that way forever.
Suddenly, he hugged her gently. It was all he could do. Gingerly he held her, not close or tightly for fear of inflicting more pain. His tears of anger and grief fell down his cheeks and into her dark hair.
"I won't let him hurt you ever again," he whispered soothingly. "I left you in DuLexorne... I let him do what he willed to you. I failed you. But I swear to you, Aurora, that for as long as I live, I'll be with you and I'll keep him away from you. I'll never fail you again."
She couldn't say anything, but made no attempt to escape his support. When she quietly and slowly lifted an arm up to wrap it around his shoulders and neck and pull him slightly closer, he complied as even more tears fell into her hair. It took a great force of will on his part to keep from holding her too tightly. The paranoia in her eyes remained, as did the shattered glass, but hidden was also the beginning of healing. With only the sounds of their whimpering and the wind, they sat together in the dancing stalks of golden grass.
