Notes: navy = flashback
Phibrizio withdrew his farsight with a pleased sigh, stretching in a
human manner as he ceased to be held by gravity and floated lightly into
the air. Right on schedule. Most would say he was obsessed. His
answer to that was either a well placed fireball to a questioning lesser
minion or an enigmatic smile that rivaled Xellos's when questioned by
his 'peers'. Obsession ... pah! This is simply the most expedient and
thorough way of getting what I want. What we all want ... He quirked
Curious. He felt that tugging again, like a insistent pull from the
back of his mind, whispering down his spine and through his brain.
What is that? Once again his eyes were drawn across the row of
crystal bribery as his lips curved into a cold smile. Soon, Lina
Inverse, soon ... He trailed a finger down the cold surface of the
blonde's prison. You are the key, sword slinger. With you, I have
her. And through her, that one. The Hellmaster blinked.
Again the tingling, stronger now, as if a vortex was drawing him closer,
ever closer to something ... something ... Not L-sama? Not destruction
or pain? There was none here is his lifeless city, none in the crystal
prison of his own creation ... so where? Restlessly, he passed his eyes
over the walls of his trap, vaguely aware that it was here ... so
close, but just out of reach ...
Who are you? he wondered quietly as his gaze settled on the other
one. Phibrizio tapped a finger against his chin in though. Ah ...
Zelgadis. Curiously, he passed a hand through the crystal prison,
brushing sharp hair from closed eyes. You ... Knowledge passed in
the briefest touch of his fingers to the chimera's forehead, drawing
forth the obsessions of the other's deepest heart. Why haven't you
found you cure? The spell is so simple, easily created by a skilled
white mage. That girl you have with you could do it. Why ... ?
He was drawn closer, small fingers spreading to caress the ridged
cheeks, thumbs brushing across closed eyes as he tilted the face up.
Ice glimmered behind stone lids, unnaturally aware. Once more, the
tingling lanced upward through his body, like the grip of death itself.
But, I am death ...
Eyes and lips drew him closer as he continued his caress, almost
inviting him into the hard embrace of crystal and stone. You ... A
memory fluttered into life.
"Papa!" Running feet. Fire. Chaos and gore and the flying of blood.
Heated eyes that glared hatred as it feasted ...
"Mama!" A screaming child, racing across the red drenched square, fire
flaring through every house he passed. Then the calm, shocked pause as
life looked at death, and a child with the face like a mirror ...
"Ma - " Death. Flying blood. A falling body. A little boy who stared
at the darkness and flames with glazed eyes ...
You ... With one memory came another, hanging tight to the coattails
of the first as Phibrizio moved closer, immersing himself in the
"No!" Defiance and anger. A hatred so great it had drawn
"Stop!" Too late for the boy, now a chimera. A flare burst of pure
"Gran - " Death. Wide blue eyes that had were once green glazed over
again, the light dying with his own death, mixing with the dark, dark
He understood now. Smiling in quiet triumph, he tilted the face up to
his own, brushing noses in a sort of cold affection. The eyes that
watched his own so closely blinked in reply. That's why you haven't
found your cure ... you can't cure death ...
A walking, breathing shade. The shiver passed up his limbs again as he
softly captured the lips with his own, eyes closing as they meshed
tightly. My mirror ...
The tingling came into focus, like a memory drawn from a painting or a
summer's breeze. This wasn't a death he held power over, the 'chimera'
had never reached the gates of heaven and hell and so had never passed
through Phibrizio's hands. My death ...
Warm and familiar. When he had traveled with Inverse, he had felt it.
Even the Trickster had mentioned the unnatural chill in passing, as if a
cold wind had lanced to the very core of his being. The death of all
things ... The body of a child, cold and still, the mirror image of the
one that stood waiting for the boy's soul ... The end of all things
... Cold stone and bloody eyes, empty and wasted, eternal silence as
the scavengers waited, he waited ... My reaper ...
Two pairs of lips broke to speak as one, the only voice that rang though
the silence, "I remember you ... Death."