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Youji exhaled heavily, sighing a ring of gray smoke into the darkened room. He waited for the aggravated response from the too still figure on the bed, but merely took another drag as no rant was forthcoming. Ken had been catatonic for hours, his eyes fixed on the ceiling with terrifying intensity. The blue green was awash with misery, cracked lips moving in a silent litany that you didn't have to read lips to understand. Aya. The dark haired assassin had been whispering the word since regaining his slight form of consciousness. He woke screaming Aya's name, as his teammates lay in an exhausted tangle on Omi's floor. Youji nearly broke his arm trying to hold the distressed boy down, and received a fist across the cheek for his trouble. Omi had jumped in quickly, a sleep spell dragging Ken into his catatonic stupor. Nagi had explained something about Ken's soul searching for the presence he had come to know as the red haired Aya, the essence he had tied his own life power to. The living Key had trapped himself on a plane beyond the living world; a place where the natural magic of life threaded together, and where the damaged web of Weiß' power lay. Youji could sense the broken edge of Aya's thread, the connection frayed and fading with each passing moment. Youji cursed, pounding his fist against the doorframe. It had taken so long for their circle to come together and now it had been shattered in a matter of hours. Yuki could walk in and take the Key; the coven had been drained of their powers by the translocation, and needed more time than they had to recover. Time was not on their side as the period in which Yuki had to reclaim the Key drew to a close. ::The witch was desperate. Nagi clutched the leatherbound volume to his chest, hands singed by the dark magic effusing from the pages of the book. The warlock winced as the air exploded with heat, Yuki releasing her lifeforce in one concentrated attack. Before he died, Nagi poured his own life down through the aura of the book, sublimating the dark with his light...:: "Youji?" Omi's voice was soft as he touched his teammate's arm hesitantly. The blonde blinked blearily, still shaken with the strange memories that surfaced at unexpected moments. He turned to Omi, emerald eyes softening as he followed the boy's gaze to their fallen member. They had all taken to watching Ken, even though it was clear the boy wasn't going anywhere. "Hai?" His voice was rough from his vigil. None of them spoke, knowing that Ken's mind was buried deep within the web and couldn't respond to the heart wrenching sadness in their pleas. Youji looked down as something was pushed into his palm. It sparked with energy, making his skin tingle unpleasantly. It was a folded sheet of paper, even though it had been crumpled at one point. Dark brown ink stained the edges, smearing onto the words. He touched the ink briefly before realizing what it really was. Ken's blood. Omi's voice was hushed. "It's a page from the yami no hon. Yuki tore it when you took the book. I think Schuldich managed to slip it onto my jacket before we..." Abandoned Aya... Youji's mind was quick to fill in. Guilt had wormed itself into his mind, worrying at the edge of his awareness. If he hadn't been stupid enough to give into the book's persuasion "It's not your fault." Youji managed a weak smile. "Stop reading my mind, chibi. You may not like what you find there." The ghostly echo of his grin touched Omi's lips. It faded quickly and he motioned back to the paper. "Nagi managed to translate some of the text. The book of darkness is only half of what Yuki needs to get the Key." Neat handwritten Latin text caught the tall assassin's eye. The language hadn't been spoken in eons and yet the words were translated in the blonde's mind as quickly as they were read. "Mors? Death?" Youji studied the dark charcoal lines that had been scratched across the ancient velum. The depiction looked like a staff, easily as long as Youji was tall. The crown was marked with the wrought word, lost within runes that enchanted the object. "From what I can remember, it's made from the fragment of an object that once housed the Key. It can be used to draw out the power and contain it." Hope flared briefly within Youji's heart, but was quickly crushed as Omi continued. "It would kill Ken. He isn't just possessed by the Key. He is the Key. It'd be like ripping out his heart." "Attractive analogy, chibi." There was no humor in his reply. "I try, Youji." He turned away. "C'mon. We need to plan...somehow, we'll get Aya back, Youji." He touched the older assassin's arm, willing his own faith to reach his friend. Emerald eyes flashed with determination. "Yes, we will." He regarded his fallen teammate, hands itching to brush through the tossed brown locks, to bring some comfort to the tortured boy. "Sore wa yakusoku yo." §*§*§*§*§ ::Blood. Hair. That which comprises you. That which makes you mine.:: He stirred slightly as he felt a touch at his face, a cool hand burying itself in his hair. He couldn't feel the sting as the strands were pulled too tight; it was as if his pain nerves had been disconnected. He knew that someone had drawn a knife across his palm, but no sensation accompanied the action. Blood oozed quickly, streaming between his fingers. Figures moved in and out of his vision, his eyes filmed by the spell he could feel insinuated into his very skin. Orange firelight was the pinpoint in his vision, a dark shadowed hunched in front. Another shadow stood at his side, unfocused yet familiar. He could make out hair that matched the flames, mouth drawn in a sharp frown. ::Awake, Weiß?:: The comment cut gently through the spell, bringing Aya back into himself. Pain flooded his mind, his hand burning with the strange knife wound. ::Schuldich?:: He found himself standing nude before the fire, his hands and feet free. His body was stiff with shock and disuse; he met a blank wall of memory as he tried to recall anything beyond grabbing the book from Youji's burned hands. The figure turned carefully, always watching the shadow at the fire. ::Aya. What a pleasant...:: Screams echoed through his mind and he watched the German stumble back in agony. His face was hidden beneath a curtain of hair, but Aya could hear slight whimpers of breath as he knelt on the ground. His concern evaporated as the spell replaced itself, a thick fog creeping into the deepest corners of his mind. This time it seemed there would be no returning. §*§*§*§*§ "We can't leave him here alone!" Youji took a long drag on his cigarette as he watched the indignant telekinetic. The boy stood stiff at the end of the kitchen, facing down the remainder of his coven. The blonde had a sudden vision of himself being tossed into the furthest wall and held there by a warlock who was quite sure of his abilities. ::Just try it, chibi.:: Nagi flushed a deep crimson, realizing that his thoughts were no longer private from his once enemies. He threw himself into the nearest chair, arms crossed over his chest. He could feel his lower lip falling into a pout, but at this point it didn't matter what the others seemed to think of him. He seemed to be the only one who thought that nothing took priority over protecting Ken and the Key. "Look," the blonde said as he leaned forward to ash his cigarette. He sighed heavily, feeling Nagi's rage still beating against his mental shields. "The coven is ruined. To get the Mors staff we'll need all the power we have." Nagi shook his head, dark locks falling about his drawn face. Exhaustion had taken its toll on them all. The ex-Schwarz seemed to be holding together better than Omi and Youji. The tall assassin had already filled and emptied his ashtray twice in the past couple hours, and Omi's tawny head rested on the kitchen table. Nagi's head fell back and he gazed upward as if he could see though the ceiling into Ken's room. "He's defenseless." Omi's reasonable voice cut in, tainted with sadness. His head came up off the table to meet the eyes of his teammates. "There are no more choices, Nagi. We can't take him with us and we must get the Mors before Yuki." Youji felt the anger drain out of the boy, and accepting desperation in its place. After an uncomfortable moment, the blonde cleared his throat. "Anyone know how to find it?" §*§*§*§*§ "You're playing with fire Schuldich." Though his tone was chiding, Crawford wasn't even mildly annoyed with the red head's attempts at distracting and baiting Yuki. The witch had taken an unnatural liking to torturing the telepath, breaking his shields and draining him. The German's almost childish antics ate away at the time remaining to the witch before her stolen body atrophied to the point of uselessness and her soul was lost to the ether until the next rebirth. The American sighed and replaced the cold cloth on the German's forehead. Schuldich groaned. "Thanks, Mom." The German was stretched along the couch in their safe house, lights off and shades tightly drawn. He had been drifting in and out of consciousness since the incident with the Weiß, interfering with Yuki's spell. Crawford cast a glance over his shoulder, flinty gaze settling on the blank faced figure of Aya, the red head sitting impossibly still in a chair opposite the Schwarz pair. Yuki had not explained what was done to the assassin; his blood and hair collected and burned, catalyst for one of the witch's twisted spells. The said witch knelt at the assassin's feet, hands stroking the unresponsive boy's hands in the perversion of a caress. Yuki touched the marble-esque Aya, her hands dry and old against the cool skin of the spellbound assassin. She could feel Crawford trying to burn his gaze through her back, but his minor magic was a bare flicker in the presence of her own and the dormant Weiß. Her magic was waning quickly; she relied heavily on the energy she was able to drain from the fiery telepath. The anger in his soul made him a nearly endless fountain of pure dark magic. But she couldn't take much more from him or he would be useless to her final plan. His lifeforce and those of his remaining team would be used to rip the Key from the mortal shell it had taken and trap it once again in the Mors staff. That had been her deal with Aste. Schwarz would be completely drained for her final rise to power...enough power to deal with the upstart Rosenkreuz who thought to control her. Still, Aste was not her true problem. Weiß was her only resistance throughout the centuries, the white warlocks sacrificing themselves lifetime after lifetime in order to keep her darkness from overwhelming the world. And now she had their lives in her hand. "Schuldich, are you ready?" ::No.:: Yuki cackled, pulling Aya to stand with her. "Good." She turned to Crawford. "Any moment now, the Weiß will discover the Mors staff's location. You and the bastard Irishman will follow and retrieve." Her voice became nothing more than a dangerous hiss. "Kill them." The American did not reply, cool gaze locked on Schuldich's face. The vision flashes he had been suffering since first encountering the body stealing witch were unreliable, and changed just as soon as he had the chance to understand the first. His powers would not help him here. He knew of two possible outcomes for his night's mission, and neither was a desirable future in which to find himself. He nodded to the German and helped him up. Schuldich gave a long groan as he made a show of rising from the couch, drying cloth still held to his forehead. The American squeezed his shoulder, hoping to communicate to his teammate what he always expected of missions in which the German was involved. Change our future, Schuldich. I'm counting on you. §*§*§*§*§ Youji looked up at the building in disbelief. It was a twenty story glass monolith, the width of only one room and a hall. It was a new addition of the waning business district, a shining attraction for entrepreneurs searching for office space. One such entrepreneur resided on the penthouse floor...and the fate of the known world hung in a decorative stand in the narrow lobby four floors below. It had taken a flash of insight on Omi's part, and some of Youji's knowledge of cheesy American horror films to work out a way to seek the Mors staff. The spell itself was relatively simple. All they required was a pendulum and something belonging to the Key. It was best to use a pure element for a pendulum, to prevent any interference from other materials. That was simple enough to acquire; Youji volunteering a silver cross pendant for the seeking. The breakthrough had come when Omi realized that any part of Ken was also a part of the Key. Youji realized with a chill that that was why Yuki hadn't taken the staff. They had Ken and the only means to seek it. It also meant that they would be leading her straight to the item she needed to kill their teammate and take over the world. Nagi had sat in the center of the living room, the furniture cleared to the walls. A large map of Tokyo took up the floor in front of him. They debated on whether or not to include the whole of Japan, but decided that Yuki could not try for something that wasted too much time to acquire. Youji wove Ken's hair into the chain of the necklace, spell words whispering from his lips. Nagi took the makeshift pendulum and held it over the map. Omi took Youji's hand, and began to repeat the seeking spell. "Reveal to us what is hidden." The lines on the map began to glow slightly, casting an unhealthy pallor over Nagi's already pale face. The pendulum swung faster, heavy metal spinning frantic circles above the paper. With a flare of magic, the cross became suddenly still, straight above Youji's current location on the map. Nagi and Omi were already on the roof, rappelling down four stories to the seventeenth floor where they would find the staff. Youji was only lookout. And a nervous lookout at that. His earpiece crackled with Omi's voice. "We're in." "Hai," was the brief reply, and Youji shook himself with the sudden feeling of this-is-way-too-easy that crept along his spine. He looked up the building again, missing the pair of eyes that watched from the shadows. §*§*§*§*§ It was eerily silent outside the Koneko, the street devoid of even the most die hard night owls. Three figures stood on the deserted sidewalk, black clad against the autumn wind. They were conspicuous and still no one would have noticed them on a bright day in a crowd. Schuldich nodded to the pale boy at his side, taking command of the assassin's pliant mind. Blood red hair flared in the light of the street lamp before becoming lost in the darkness of the shop, slipping easily through the doors of the home that he no longer recognized. The telepath put a cigarette to his lips, but didn't bother to light it. His outward calm was the hardest mask he had ever worn. Inside, his mind was bent to Aya's guiding every step the assassin made up the stairs to his lover's room. He spared a glance at Yuki. She was tense, staring at the flower shop as if to see through its walls. "Wait for the signal," she whispered. Schuldich didn't know what signal she meant.but was sure it would come with screaming recognition when the time came. §*§*§*§*§ He couldn't remember how long he had been in the darkness or if it had always been. He had a strange sense that this place was not where he belonged, but only where he found himself. It wasn't true darkness. It was like the false black found when one closed one's eyes, with bright flashes of color that bloomed and faded, without providing real illumination. He was surrounded by power, but whenever he tried to tap it, his hands passed through without so much as a tingle. He did not belong here. But he also knew that he didn't have the strength to pull himself from the burning chill that had enraptured itself in his soul. ::Ken...:: The voice was warmth in the cold within his mind, a flame to tempt him from the darkness. He recognized the presence; blind to the world and he would know that touch of the soul he had joined himself to. "Aya..." The words were dry, dragged from a throat that hadn't spoken in almost a day. Blue green eyes struggled to blink as Ken fought to return from his vigil on the natural plane, throwing off the nether darkness like a cloak. Consciousness came in a stunning moment of confusion. ::Ken...:: The dark haired assassin moved in the haze that remained, his body detached from his will. Ken felt like an observer in his own skin, dimly aware as he sat up in the bed, pulling aside the blankets. His eyes focused on the furthest corner of his room, waiting for the form to emerge from the shadows. Aya. The very one he had searched
so hard for...returned...
::for madiha - you still rock:: ::musical inspiration - dark angel by vnv nation (if not for that song, this chapter would never have happened!):: |
