dreams of dawn ~cold-light~ part H
~

“...I just know...” was the man’s only response, his eyes closing. A wave of immense energy... Malba never would fully tell me the extent of the abilities of that... Device, but... I’m sure... A tattooed mark, an ancient, demonic language... Back before his son had entirely disowned him, he... Malba had confessed that he and his friends had awoken with an implanted device.... It had been troublesome, yet Ikenna had not gotten a chance to find out much more. It had been right around that time that Malba had finally completely rejected him, disappearing...

An odd device... Another thing to worry about. You... You can be such a pain, you little fool, the redhead thought affectionately, a wave of bittersweet emotions abruptly threatening to flood his weary, aching body. I swore to secrecy... Swore that I would never tell another soul... What was it that Malba had said about the device?

--“...Just think of it as a way to move around like no one else, a way to go places that no one else can go... I really don’t think it’s dangerous, Dad. It’s fucking weird, but... It’s damn useful. Just don’t have a spasm, okay? Don’t worry. Druu doesn’t sense anything bad from it, and Kopaka’s been looking into it... It’s okay. Doesn’t mess with my fucked up energy. It’s... It’s a good thing.... We just have to be careful with it. The energy surge it makes is insanely powerful. If we activated the thing around a bunch of people, they’d wig. We have to make sure to not let anyone sense it...”--

Yes... A way to move about like no one else... Hopefully... Hopefully you were able to use that damn thing, whatever it is, use it to get to safety, to get... Get help... He did believe him. Malba may be a lot of things, but... He and his friends don’t think it’s harmful, so I suppose I won’t question him on that. I just... I just want...

Though, just because he believed his son didn’t mean he hadn’t done a little private research on the device over the years. I never said I wouldn’t look into it... Ikenna wasn’t a medical doctor, but his background in scientific study and research had proven quite useful in investigating the damn thing. After all, he hadn’t gotten his current Council position just by sleeping around and backstabbing. He had genuinely (well for the most part, anyway) earned his position as assistant-chief of the developmental science research department, so many years ago...

Not that his research into the device or the symbol’s meaning had provided much information. It was... Odd. Such an arcane symbol, an enigmatic marking of a dead, ancient language. It’s... It’s hard to tell. If even that ancient psychic could not fully decipher it, then... Just how old of a mark could it be?

“...Ikenna?” Nia inquired, breaking into the redhead’s reverie, his dark eyes focused on the Councilman, his cigarette perched between his slender lips. “You alright?”

“Hm? Why wouldn’t I be?” Ikenna inquired with a blink, forcing that odd symbol from his thoughts, the mysterious ‘power’ it held...

“...You just had... I don’t know. Kind of a weird look on your face,” the elemental stated after a moment of thoughtful silence, his focus pulling away from the man, back to the television. “Or you know, a weirder look than usual that is,” he added mischievously.

“I was... Just thinking about something, that’s all,” the redhead stated quietly, moving his hands to rest by his sides, tightly clenching his fists. An esoteric, cryptic symbol... Wait. What had the elemental said? Weirder than usual? What? Ikenna frowned, turning his red gaze to the sprite, his arms crossing about his chest. “What do you mean, weirder than usual?” he inquired irritably, his silky voice holding a tint of annoyance. Weird? I... I do not look weird. Well... I suppose I am a little... Pale... And... A bit... Half-dead looking or...Something... His thoughts trailed off and he let out an irritable sigh, a frown on his lips. So I may look ‘weird.’ He doesn’t have to point it out though... Ass.

“Heh... So, what could you be thinking about that would cause you to look even broodier than usual, sir?” the bartender/drug-dealer inquired lightly, ignoring the man’s protest over looking ‘weird.’

“...Nothing. Nothing of any importance, anyway,” Ikenna responded vaguely, turning his attention away from the silver haired sprite. Oh yes, I’m really going to tell you that my son has a device implanted in his wrist, a mark that... Holds some sort of power that he... He... He didn’t trust me enough to tell me about, the man thought with a hint of a sad smile, his red eyes closing for a moment. Of course he didn’t trust me. Why would he? I...

“Hm... Must be important. To you anyway,” the sprite pointed out, taking a large draw off of his white cigarette, breathing in a lungful of smoke. “Private, eh?”

“...Yes.”

“Then I won’t ask anymore about it.”

“....Thanks...”

“Though if you ever want to spill, I won’t tell anyone. Promise,” Nia commented after a moment of silence, a smile on his lips. “Well. Unless it’s really juicy, then I’ll sell it to the tabloids and make a killing,” he stated teasingly, winking a black eye at the Councilman. “Heh.”

“Fool,” the redhead mumbled dryly, yet despite the insult, his voice held no malice. Ikenna shook his head a bit, then moved to run a hand absentmindedly through his short, mussed hair. “Though it certainly wouldn’t be the first time I’ve graced the cover of a tabloid, so that’s nothing new,” he admitted wryly, a derisive tone in his silky voice.

“Oh I know. I’ve seen some pretty interesting stories about you in those wonderful papers, Ikenna. Very informative stuff,” the elemental replied with a laugh, amusement playing in his mischievous black eyes. “I especially liked that article about you being the leader of some sort of evil, doomsday cult. Something about sacrificing innocent little fuzzy animals and eating children?” Nia went on to say, shaking his head at his own words.

“...Yes well. You know the world is doomed. Have to get prepared for it. And what better way then sacrificing cute, fuzzy animals, correct?” Ikenna responded sardonically, rolling his blood-red eyes. “I read that one, sadly. Couple of weeks ago, right? I get them all confused, there’s so many,” he then stated, his voice taking on a weary tenor. The evil, baby eating soulfire-vampire... Yes, that’s me. “I have to wonder if half of those stories aren’t spread by the Council,” Ikenna admitted with a sigh, leaning his head back against the loveseat. Wouldn’t surprise me... Tuoni would get a kick out of it, I’m sure. “I don’t mind when the papers write up truthful things, like how much of a slut I am or how much I drink, how I’m a maniac or a fool, but baby eating? Even I’m not quite that bad,” Ikenna went on to confess with a humorless laugh, his voice dry.

“Well. If it makes you feel any better, I know you aren’t a fuzzy animal killing, baby eating cult leader,” the sprite responded with a small smile, his voice light. “Though if there was a cult for drinking oneself to death, I might say you’re the leader of that one...” he added jokingly, his tenor teasing, obviously meaning no offense.

“Yes. That’s me. Leader of all lushes,” Ikenna quipped self-deprecatingly, a bitter smile forming on his lips. “That’s definitely me.” A cult of drinking to death... Sounds fun, he thought with a roll of his red eyes. “It seems to be the only thing I’m particularly good at anymore...” the man acknowledged flatly, uncrossing his arms, letting his hands rest by his sides.

“Well. I don’t know about that,” Nia remarked with an eyebrow raised, exhaling a puff of smoke. “You’re pretty good at holding your ground, even when you’ve got seven people glaring at you like they want to string you up,” he pointed out with a smile, tucking a long strand of silver hair behind his ear. “Pretty good at stabbing people in the hand with glass, too...”

“...Hm, well I’ve had lots of practice,” Ikenna deadpanned with a blink of his blood-red eyes, a hint of humor in his silky-smooth voice.

“Stab people often, do you?”

“Sure. All the time.”

“Ah, I see. That somehow doesn’t surprise me.”

The two both smiled a little at the exchange and Nia shook his head, amusement clear by his facial expression. “Heh... You’re definitely an interesting guy, Ikenna,” he stated with a laugh, his voice teasing. The tall man then stood from his sitting position on the small loveseat, his black gaze focusing on the ashtray sitting on the end table further down the long, narrow room.

“Interesting. That’s one way to put it, I suppose,” the redhead responded dryly, watching the elemental walk across the room, putting his short, stub of a cigarette out in the black ashtray on the circular end table. Interesting? Hm...

“Yeah. Interesting,” Nia repeated with a nod of his head, stretching his tall, lean frame, his black gaze moving momentarily to the outer wall of the long room, the bright, sunlit windows... “So, you sure you want to go to work? You already skipped out on the meeting, why not just blow off work while you’re at it?” the elemental questioned lightly, his voice nonchalant, though a hint of a frown briefly formed on his slender lips.

“...No. I really need to go...” Ikenna slowly responded, his eyes inexplicably drawn to that bright sunlight, that painfully harsh light... Reflecting off of the black furniture, tainting the dark walls, spilling onto Nia, his pale skin and iridescent silver hair... “You’re sure it isn’t a bother for you, giving me a lift? I can always call for a car if you have other things you need to do,” he then commented quietly, forcing his focus away, away from that harsh, bitter light...

“It’s fine, Ikenna. I’m not exactly a real busy guy,” Nia remarked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t mind,” he added softly, placing a long, lean hand on his hip.

“...Ah... Well. Thank you,” Ikenna responded with a fatigued sigh, raising a hand up to his eyes, lightly rubbing his closed eyelids. The light... It really hurt his eyes. So bright, so... Malba...

Why had the blood-fox activated that device? In the Main District of Teaja? To risk activating it... He couldn’t help but be drawn back to that, his thoughts drifting to his son, to his son’s friends, to... Perhaps... Could it be that Malba contacted her? If so... Of course, also, it seemed that Druuvbin must be in terrible shape, if Malba had actually dared to break into the Venator facility, so perhaps the activation of the device had something to do with the psychic... Or... I have no way to know, but I’m almost positive that must be what that ‘energy’ was... It’s no coincidence. An assassin, an ice demon, a surge of unknown energy... Ikenna took in a weary breath, fighting the urge to let out a groan. It... I don’t know. I don’t know what any of it means, but I... I just... I hope you’re safe, Malba... I do love you...So much, you fool...

“In breaking news, we have just received confirmation from trusted sources that Aevik Kaine, Letrum Venator of the Tevrran Hunters was admitted into Spero General Hospital’s Intensive Care Unit early this morning...” Ikenna pulled his gaze to the television, a frown forming on his lips as he concentrated his attention to the breaking news report flashing across the large screen. This morning? Morning? That... He had used the drain on Kaine the previous evening, why on earth had he... He...

That... That fucking whore... Ikenna’s thoughts trailed and he clenched his fists, a spark of anger washing over him. Darcy. He had left the Letrum Venator with the woman, she... She should have taken the man to get medical attention. Didn’t she? What... What the hell did you do? he thought, a cold wave of anger flooding his aching body.

“No official word has been given, but from what our sources are reporting, the Letrum Venator has suffered severe internal injuries, and is listed in critical condition,” the blonde human newscaster commented with a frown, her hazel eyes holding a troubled look. “Now this is not confirmed as of yet, but from the reports we’re getting in, the Letrum Venator is in dire condition and is not expected to recover,” she went on to state, her bubbly voice taking on a more grave tint. “To recap, Aevik Kaine, Letrum Venator, was admitted to a local Atrum-Terra hospital early this morning, and is quite possibly not expected to recover. No further information is known at this time, but we’re trying to get further confirmation at this very moment. We’ll bring more news on this matter as soon as we learn it...”

“That... That fucking bitch,” Ikenna snapped aloud, his red eyes flashing angrily, his hands clenching tightly, his lips forming a deep frown. I... If she had taken him to get cared for last night, he should... That...

“Who? What’s wrong?” Nia inquired with an eyebrow raised, his voice taking on an uneasy tenor as he gazed upon the irate expression flashing across the redhead’s pale face. “Ikenna?”

Not... Not that I care if he dies. He... deserves it, really. But I... He... He had assumed the man would... Probably get medical care, would recover, but... If he had indeed just been admitted to the hospital earlier that morning, then... That means he would have bled all night, and that.... Ikenna clenched his fists tighter, his fingernails biting into his pale palms. Cairra... You... You utter whore. He knew the woman was a cold bitch, but... I didn’t really think much on it at the time. I assumed she would probably... At least... I knew it may not be the best idea to leave him with her, but I... The redhead’s thoughts trailed and he let out a growl, his red eyes focused on the television screen, though he didn’t take in the words coming from the blonde human’s mouth. He...

“Ikenna? Hey... Uh... What’s wrong? Ikenna?” Nia inquired uneasily, taking a step closer to the red haired man, a look of concern washing over his pale features. “Ikenna?”

“...I... Nothing... Nothing,” Ikenna finally responded, his voice strained, anger still present in his blood-red eyes. He... He didn’t care. Of course he didn’t care. The man... He let Malba go, most likely hurt him, he... He should die. I... I should have finished him off to start with, I... the redhead thought, his fists clenched so tightly they lightly shook. I... I don’t care. I don’t care that Cairra... That she...

“Uh... Well... Do... Do you want me to find my car keys, take you to your office now?” the silver haired elemental questioned unsurely, his slender lips forming a troubled frown, his black eyes holding a look of disconcertion.

“...Yes... That... If it isn’t too much trouble,” Ikenna slowly responded, taking in a deep, shaky breath. His head... Was suddenly pounding more so, his stomach churning... He...

“Uh... Okay, I’ll be back in a sec. I think I left them in my other jeans,” the man responded, his look of concern not lessening, the frown on his lips deepening. “I’ll be right back,” he stated softly, casting another glance over the slender Councilman before turning, walking towards the doorway located roughly in the middle of the long room.

Ikenna merely nodded his head in an inattentive gesture, his red eyes locked on the television, the large, bold text appearing on the bottom of the screen. Bold letters written in white... A news headline, large words...

--Letrum Venator mortally injured?--

That... That... I’ll kill her. I’ll fucking kill her. He... He really didn’t care. Not at all. It wasn’t as if it mattered. Though he pitied the man and the life pushed upon him, that... That didn’t excuse his behavior. He deserved to suffer, he... Ikenna had been so very angry, so...

--“...a broken, hollow tool for our worthless government, you say? Yes, I suppose that is quite accurate. And you sir? Are a pompous fool, so busy worrying about your son’s ‘well being’ that you entirely forget to care for what he truly needs. Though that’s just the opinion of a soulless pawn, sir...”--

He... The blonde demon deserved it. He...

Without warning, a different memory flooded Ikenna’s thoughts, a memory from centuries past. A memory of a young teenage boy with short, spiky black hair, streaked blood-red... Pale, sickly skin... Vibrant midnight-blue eyes...

--“...Oh, Come on, Dad. I don’t think he’s that bad. Everyone treats him like he’s some kind of soulless freak, but I like him,-- the teen stated with confident midnight-blue eyes, a frown on his pale lips. --“I think he’s a nice guy. He can’t help it that he was born the ‘Letrum Venator.’ He’s... I don’t know. I feel sorry for him...”--

A discussion with his son, so many years ago... About a man named Aevik Kaine...

--“... Malba. I know it isn’t his fault that he was born into the Letrum Venator name, but... He’s damaged. I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to spend time with him. It isn’t his fault, but he is dangerous. You know that...”-- he had stated so many years ago, stated those words with a small frown on his lips, his red eyes holding a concerned expression.

A discussion about Malba’s involvement with the Letrum Venator, his... His friendship with the infamous Death Hunter.

--“...Dangerous... He could be I guess, but... I don’t know. I’m telling you, I don’t think so. Have you seen the guy’s eyes? People say he’s got some kind of soulless thing going on in his eyes, but... I think Aevik just looks really sad... I don’t think he’s soulless, Dad...”--

--“...‘Aevik?’ You’re on a first name basis with the Letrum Venator? ...How... How in the world do you get involved with such strange people? You’re quite the... Special boy, you know that? Malba... Just, be careful when you’re around him... Please, Malba?...”--

--“...Heh... You worry too much, Dad...”--

Ikenna shook his head, turning away from the TV screen, away from those bold letters, that headline... The thin man stood from the loveseat, his legs unsteady, his body aching. He walked towards the nearest window, stepping into the harsh sunlight, his fists clenched, his lips set in a deep frown. He...

I... I always... I always... Make things worse, don’t I, Malba? Don’t I? he thought with fatigued red eyes, his attention focused solely on the bright sunlight washing into the room. That, bitter... Bright light... I don’t care. I... He had meant to kill the man after all. He had. He... I don’t care... I don’t.

--...You killed mommy, didn’t you? Just like you’re killing me. You kill everyone...--

That soft, sad voice from his dreams without warning flooded Ikenna’s thoughts and he bit down on his lower lip, letting out an unsteady breath. That voice... So vivid, so tangible... If he... If the man didn’t know better, he would swear it was real, floating through his ears, through his mind...

--...You’re the one who’s really a monster...--

That’s right... He... That’s right, Malba... I am.

Not that he cared of course.

“...Ikenna? Uh... Ikenna are you ready to go?” Nia’s voice broke into the Councilman’s troubled reverie and the redhead let out another shaky breath, his head throbbing painfully, he... He could feel his heartbeat in his head, he... His head pounding in beat with his fast heart rate...

–Thump—Thump—Thump—

“Nia... Could... Could you please... Can we make one other stop first?” Ikenna inquired softly, his quiet, silky-smooth voice blank, utterly hollow. I...

“Uh, sure. Anywhere you want. Are... Are you sure you’re okay?” the lean, tall elemental responded quietly, moving to stand next to the redhead, his concerned black gaze focused on the man’s expressionless face. “Ikenna? You’re acting really weird all of a sudden. And I mean more so than usual. As in a lot more, which is seriously saying something,” Nia added, his voice holding an unsure tenor. “Are you okay?”

Ikenna absentmindedly nodded his head in response, not pulling his focus away from the bright, intense light shining through the thin black curtains. That bright light searing, agonizing... So... So bitter, so... The slender man slowly reached out his cut left hand, allowing bright light to flood his white flesh. Bright, painfully bright. Yet, it... He felt no warmth. No warmth from the intense sunlight, no... No warmth at all. It... It was cold. Just like his heart.

--...You’re the one who’s really a monster...--

“I... I hate sunlight,” he whispered tonelessly, his hand dropping away, falling to rest by his side. “I despise it.” With those hollow, emotionless words, the Councilman turned away from the bright window, away from the overpowering, bitter-cold sunlight. It was... Too bright.

The world was just... Far too bright.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Darkness.

Dark, soulless beings, encircling him, laughing, weeping, shrieking, whispering. Black silhouettes blending within the ever encompassing darkness. Hollow, soulless red eyes were the only real feature discernable on the countless shadows encircling him.

It was too dark, too... Too cold.

Black figures from the past, from the present, from the future. Figures with blazing eyes, with shadowed faces, with shrieking, piecing voices... Too loud. So very loud. So many voices, bleeding together, mixing, intermingling, voices filled with pain, anger, fear, resentment, sorrow, hate...

Please stop... Just... For a moment...

How long? How long would he remain locked away in the darkness, with the shadows of death slowly encircling, reaching out their shadowed hands... Long fingers brushing against him, inaudible whispers and screams piercing his mind...

Please...

Laughter. Cold, empty laughter. With no joy, no mirth. Cold, angry laughter resounding within the slowly shifting, spinning world of shadows. Laughter, followed by screeching, so loud, so...

He was so very cold. As if ice was flowing through his very veins... Yet that burning. Fire in his chest, burning hot, pain... So much pain. To take in a breath felt as if he were inhaling fire, to exhale felt as if his lungs would collapse, give in to the fire in his chest...

It hurts...

He could.... Hardly feel anything, other than that fire in his chest. Even his head was growing numb, the ripping pains easing into a frozen lack of sensation. His hands, his fingers, his body.... So cold, so numb... It...

--“Help me! Please help me... Please...”--

--“...I...This is my choice... Don’t ever.... Think otherwise...”—

--“...You deserve nothing. No one. Don’t forget that. You are a mistake, sent upon this earth by darkness. One day, the shadows will come to reclaim you. That will be a good day for this world, child... A good day....—

--“...Please... Please make it stop? Please...”—

--“...I... I wish I could... If only...”--

Too many voices. Too many words, loud and soft, whispers and shrieks, all forming a unison of bitter laments, a requiem of suffering, of things never to be. I... I never can...Change anything... I... Why?

So very hard. So very hard to focus, he... He longed to pull himself from the darkness. To pull himself from it, or... Or to simply give in to it. That dark wave pressing against him, enclosing around him, beckoning him. A temptingly quiet darkness lying just beyond the bloody chaos, beyond the voices and memories. A deathly still calm, a dark, eternal sleep... No...

He...

--“...I...I only wanted to love him, I... I only... Is that... So wrong?...”-- a whispered voice louder than the rest, a vision from the past. A scene from centuries ago. A voice escaping trembling lips. Teary, dying eyes setting on nothing, a solitary tear slipping down smooth, deathly pale skin... Blood. Blood dripping, blood...

-Drip-Drip-Drip-

Red blood dripping to a dark, plush carpet.

-Drip-Drip-Drip-Drip-Drip-Drip-

So much blood... Too much blood.

Eyes blank, a bitter smile on wavering lips...

--“...So this is death...”--

The image faded as quickly as it had come, falling away into the darkness, the silhouettes of the dead, red eyes and shadowed, featureless faces. Death. Shadows of death. Laughing, crying... Too many... Reaching out for him, touching his hand, his face, his hair... Stop... Please...

He.... Ryuuji? I... Why couldn’t he pull himself away from the shadows brushing against him, turn away from the hollow red eyes of the dead? He...

His mind so fragmented, so... He couldn’t think. Couldn’t...

--“...You let her die! Why? How... How could you do this to her? To... To me? I trusted you! Why...”-- a voice shaking and uneven, loud and frantic... A voice of a girl with teary green eyes, filled with hurt, betrayal, pain... --“I cared about you! I... How can you... How could you do this to me? She was... All I had, I... Damn you! They were right about you... You really are a monster.”--

--I never denied it, Veenom.--

I’m so sorry... I’m so...

“...Just hold on, Druu. Hold on... You’re going to be okay...” Soft words drifting through the chaos, the blood, the shadows. Was it even real, that soft, comforting voice? It... Ryuuji... Ryuuji’s smooth voice, gentle and soft... He.... “It’s okay, Druu. Cry all you want. Just keep breathing for us... Okay, Druu?” Was he crying? He couldn’t feel it, couldn’t sense any wetness on his cheeks, yet... He couldn’t even feel his cheeks. Couldn’t... Am I crying? It... How humiliating.

Humiliating, unable to control his own emotions, to control his visions, to control... Anything. It... It hurts...

He was drifting. Drifting somewhere in between dreams and reality, unable to open his eyes, unable to speak, to...

He couldn’t... Had it been moments, hours, eternity? Fading in and out of reality, his body so... So very cold....

He... He could vaguely... Sense Kitsune, her cool hand taking his. He... When? When had she returned? He... He hadn’t sensed the woman for some time, or... Had it only been moments? He... He simply couldn’t tell.

“How’s Kopaka?” Ryuuji’s smooth, soft voice drifting through his thoughts, the words... Somewhat difficult to make out, as his mind was so very fragmented, so... Kopaka... Kopaka is still ill? That was his fault, wasn’t it? Of course it was. Of course it was his fault.

“He’s resting, but he... I don’t understand it, Ryuuji. It... I’ve never felt anything quite like it. His energy is simply fading. It... It doesn't make any sense...” Kitsune’s concerned voice, so fatigued and concerned, weary, pained... I’m... I’m so sorry... He...

Voices. Shouting, whispering... Hollow red eyes... Blood..

“...He’s going to be okay, Kitsune. Everyone’s going to be alright... If Kopaka doesn’t get any better in a few hours, we’ll take him back to our world and figure out what’s going on, okay?” Ryuuji’s soothing voice, holding a touch of reassurance, his voice... So... Ryuuji...

“...Hn...” The ice/fox demon’s response vague, her... She...

Kitsune... He wanted so much to talk to her... To... Kitsune, I’m sorry, I... Everyone was suffering so very much, all because of him. Kitsune... Is so upset and it’s... It’s my fault... He... “K-Kit--...” he tried to force the name from his numb lips, to open his sightless eyes, yet he... It hurt. It hurt so very much, he....

“Druuvbin?” Kitsune’s concerned, weary voice, he... He couldn’t respond, couldn’t... I’m sorry... I...

“Druuvbin? Please wake up for a minute. I want to talk to you... Please?” Kitsune’s cool voice, drifting through the fog of blood soaked death, her voice quiet and upset, uneven... Kitsune... I... I’m so sorry. He couldn’t. Couldn’t push past those shadows, those haunting silhouettes with hollow red eyes... He... He wished desperately to pull himself away, to... Escape the darkness but... I am the darkness... So I suppose escaping from myself is... Rather impossible. He could never escape. Never...

“Druuvbin?”

He... Try as he might, he could not force a response to escape his lips, could not force his sightless eyes open, could not show even a trace sign of response. Trapped in his own mind, unable to.... Even telepathy, he could not muster the energy to maintain a link, to even hold a connection if someone else were to establish the link. He could not... Kitsune... The woman... Her voice sounded so upset, he... It was his fault. He... Kitsune, why torment... Yourself... Over a monster? He didn’t understand.

“Druuvbin... I’m sorry... I swear to you, I am.” A whispered confession, Kitsune’s voice soft. Kitsune... He... He wanted to speak with her, to tell the woman to stop agonizing over that conversation, to hug her and tell her to stop worrying about him, stop... You... You didn't mean it, Kitsune... I know that. And I wouldn't have blamed you a bit if you had meant every word. He didn't understand why she hadn't meant those words, those... I am a burden. A... A terrible burden... I...

Everyone was suffering, in pain. He...

Malba... Malba had used so much energy, just to warm him, he... Malba is not only injured, but ill now as well, all because of me. He’s unconscious and suffering... I... He... Malba was.... The first person who had... Ever... He... Malba... I'm so sorry... The man was the first person who had ever... He cared about Malba... So very much. And now he's in pain, because of me. It seemed the only thing he was good for anymore was... Causing his dear... Dear friends pain, worry... He...

He... He wanted to see Kopaka, he... The man was so ill, so... It was his fault Kopaka was so very sick, his fault that Malba was drained and injured, his fault that Kitsune was suffering, his fault that Ryuuji... That... And Kouji. The poor boy, it... I’ve caused that boy so much... torment... I... Not to mention poor Sanosuke. Stuck a world away, he... Sano-kun... I’m... I’m so sorry... I...

If only he could open his eyes. If only he...

Yet he was trapped. It... I... I’m too weak... If only I...

--“Yuki? Yuki? No! Please... Ngh...GRAHH...”--

What? What was this? A new flash of... Something, something from... Was this the past? A...

A sudden rushing feeling, fast, faster, as if he were flying, away from the darkness, away from the voices... What... What is this?

The darkness slowly sliding away, revealing a scene tinted white. White wisps of vaporous phantoms, silky, brushing against him... He... He could no longer feel his body, no longer feel the pain in his chest, the ice in his veins... He...

Zooming faster, faster, into the white mists, away from the darkness...

The darkness clouding his thoughts slipping away, the blood soaked visions fragmenting his mind fading... His thoughts clearing, startlingly sudden clarity, with...

With no warning, the rushing sensation stopped, leaving the psychic in an endless landscape of ethereal white. Vapors drifting around his legs, white light shining upon him...

Am I dead? Druuvbin looked down, noting he... He was standing, standing in the thick mist of white, cold light. A bright, misty haze... A silver cord? Tied to his finger, a slender, silver strand of thread. The long strand of silver floating within the opalescent mist, stretching out to something unknown, hidden in the vapor. He could not see where the cord led, where it connected. This...

Essence.

His soul...

I... I’m not in my body... the psychic realized with a blink of his lavender eyes, his pink lips forming a puzzled frown. How... Had he died? No... No, this wasn’t death. He had seen death far too many times, he knew full well what death looked like and this... This wasn’t death. The sprite looked down to the strand of silver attached to his left pinky finger, an eyebrow rising.

Clarity. His mind clearing, his pain simply... Gone.

--This is a meeting place.-- A voice. A voice with no sound, whispered and loud, cold and warm. No sound, no...

The psychic frowned once more, trying to locate the owner of that sudden voice drifting through the white fog. He could make out nothing. An uneasy feeling washed over his essence, his astral form, his lavender eyes focusing again to the strand of silver tied to his finger. Such a fragile, frail strand. This... This is all that connects me to life... A tiny, frayed silver strand... A fading life force, weakened... Yes. This must be his life essence, his... “A meeting place? To meet whom, may I ask?” Druuvbin inquired, his lavender eyes carefully taking in the haze. Nothing. He could make out nothing, no one. A meeting place?

This... To be away from the shadows, the darkness, to be away from the pain... It was admittedly a sort of solace, to not feel that burning pain, to... Yet... I don’t like this... He could no longer sense Ryuuji, could no longer sense Kitsune. Could no longer sense Malba resting on the bed next to him, could no longer sense his own body. Could no longer sense the human world, could no longer sense... Anything. Only this fog, this haze of light vapors, phantasms gently washing upon him, drifting, wisps of spectral cold-sunlight...

--You would rather suffer? You would suffer to stay with those you hold dear?-- the omnipresent voice inquired soundlessly, drifting through the psychic’s very thoughts.

“Of course.” It was a simple question to answer, requiring no contemplation. Of course he would suffer for those he held dear. It... Those people.... Were the only ones he felt anything for. They made him feel. They... He loved them dearly, he... My love is a curse, but I... I... “Now not to sound rude, but who are you?” Druuvbin questioned with a frown, his lavender gaze moving about, trying to discern something, anything in the shimmering fog. Was this even real? A delusion? This...

--An onlooker. An observer,-- the voice responded silently, the voice loud, yet quiet, soft, yet... Overpowering. The blue haired elemental took a step back, blinking his lavender eyes at the wave of dizzying, disorientating sensations enveloping him. “An observer?” he inquired, his voice sounding frail to his own ears, his eyes quite suddenly... Growing bleary, fuzzed...

--You can’t stay here. Unless you desire death that is. Do you?-- the voice inquired calmly, no emotion held in that silent voice, no emotion whatsoever.

Desire? The elemental raised a hand to his bleary eyes, fighting against the waves of vertigo, his legs growing unsteady. “I... In ways, I suppose I do. Yet that isn’t...That is not what those I ‘hold dear’ desire, so I can’t very well go against their wishes, neh?” he answered after a moment of pause, deciding to be truthful with this ‘onlooker.’ Is this real? Had he fallen into some kind of... Vision, some kind of dream? Yet... Where was the darkness? The bitter pain? The fragmented thoughts and the voices? This...

--I see. So, do you know why you are here?-- the voice inquired, its voice toneless, void of expression. --Druuvbin, Vetein of Diraka?--

The man couldn’t help but flinch at the name the ‘observer’ stated, the frown on his pink lips deepening. Vetein of Diraka... He... “No. I do not, and to be honest, this is growing rather tiresome. Could we please get to the point, neh?” the psychic remarked coolly, allowing his voice to lose his usual pleasant tenor, his lavender eyes narrowing. This... Was irritating. If it was indeed real, not some odd delusion brought on by his sickness... “I’m not fond of being toyed with. If you have a purpose for bringing me here, then state it and be done with it. Playing games isn’t something I’m in the mood to do at the moment,” he added, his gaze moving back to the silver cord tied to his finger. It... The strand’s silver shine was dimming, the cord fraying... It’s weakening... If Druuvbin’s assumptions were correct, that cord... That cord was all that kept him anchored to his physical body. If the thread broke...

--Oh? Is that your true nature shining though, Vetein of Diraka?-- the voice questioned, amusement tinting that otherwise toneless voice.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Druuvbin responded evenly, moving his blurred lavender gaze about the seemingly endless wisps of spectral white fog.

--I see. Well then. I guess I should get to the point,-- the voice stated, that hint of amusement still tinting its silent voice. A voice seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere, loud and soft, silent and overpowering... --After all, we don’t have much time. You can’t survive here long in your weakened condition.--

Druuvbin stumbled as a fresh wave of dizzying sensations wracked his senses, his vision blurring more so, his sense of balance skewed. Ngh... This... Suddenly...The psychic wasn’t sure if he was standing upright, or upside down, if he was standing or lying, floating in vapors, shining bright light.... Cold sunlight. This...

--Your friend made a mistake,-- the voice commented evenly, its tone matter-of-fact. --A terrible mistake. Though I suppose you still don’t remember, right?--

“What? Who--” Druuvbin started, yet was quickly cut off as a sharp, piecing pain ripped through his head, a vision slamming his senses, rocking his astral body. “Nngh...”

-FLASH-

Sad eyes... Sad grey eyes, tears falling freely...

--“No...You lied to me. Stop! Please?”--

--“Don’t do it, damn it!”--

--“Why?”--

Betrayed, hurt blue eyes, wide and teary.... Familiar bright blue eyes...

--“I’m sorry... I’m so... S-sorry..”—

--“Yuki! Yuki, no! Please... Ngh... GRAH...”—

A long, suffering scream of absolute agony, a scream of pain and torment, tears flowing freely from bright blue eyes.

Pain.

Immense, blinding pain. Monstrous pain, agony, tearing, ripping...

A haunting song drifting, drifting through Druuvbin’s senses, a dark lamenting song, so bittersweet...

~--...You don’t remember me,
But I...
I remember you...
And I’ll never forget your eyes
I’ll never forget your eyes...—~

Pain and suffering, a sad, haunting song... Such a familiar requiem...

--“This song... Somehow s--seems so fitting...Ir--Ironic, isn’t it?...”-- a soft voice whispered weakly, those quiet words wavering, halting... --“I... I love you... All... Love you all so much... So I...”-- Words whispered softly, weak and fading, blood freely spilling from pale, delicate lips... Blood. Dripping from, from... Lips... A small nose and... Blood spilling from sad grey eyes... Blood... --“...You won’t remember... But I... I’ll never... Forget...You...”-- With those soft dying words, a slender man fell to a tiled floor, his silver hair hiding his features. His small body blood covered and spent, still.

Dead.

Yuki-chan? That... Was that Yuki? Was this... A vision of the man’s death? Yet... This... Why... Why did this... This scene, it... It... Why does... This feel so...Familiar... That...

A grey fog... Circling, circling, stealing away that vision from the past, pulling him away from the tiled floor, that pool of blood and the small man, lying dead...

--Good intentions. But a big mistake, none the less. He used this power, this power he should not have touched. I can’t make you remember, though I wonder how much longer the spell of grey mist will cloud your senses. It should be interesting... Interesting to watch. Don’t you think?--

Druuvbin closed his eyes, the dizzyingly fast speed of the fog encircling him moving too fast, so... Sickeningly fast, he... “What... Mistake? What spell? Who... Who are you?” he inquired haltingly, his head spinning, his world shifting, shaking.... I... What... Is this? Is this real?

--We’ll meet again. Soon, hopefully. I find you most interesting, Druuvbin, Vetein of Diraka. Our time grows short. If I leave you here much longer, that thread will definitely break... And I believe you know what that means,-- the voice commented evenly, amusement, entertainment in that quiet, ever so loud voice. --In reality, I probably shouldn’t have brought you here in your condition, but... You can handle the pain, can’t you? You’re used to it by now, surely.--

“Who... Ngh...” Druuvbin started, though his words quickly trailed, the mist spinning, tumbling, shifting, shaking...

--Try not to die until the next time we meet, hm? That’s a selfish request, but it’s much more interesting with you in the picture, you see. You hold powers that intrigue even myself. I’m not sure that you are even aware of your full potential. You’re a most fascinating being, the last known survivor from Diraka... Though I suppose the reason you’re the sole survivor is because you killed the rest, right?-- the voice stated calmly, the amusement not easing from its silent, omnipresent voice.

“...I... What are you?” the blue haired psychic inquired faintly, his voice soft, his head spinning, his thoughts jumbling.... I’m... Returning... He knew this sensation. The sensation of his thoughts fragmenting... Muddled, voices and... He forced his lavender eyes open, his blurred gaze straining to focus on the fading mist. A figure? In the haze... A... Being made of cold, blindingly bright light... A flash of... Beautiful, cold, sun-filled eyes...

--I’ll make you a deal. Live through this attack and I’ll tell you my name. How’s that, Druuvbin, Vetein of Diraka?--

Darkness.

Burning pain in his chest, shadows, silhouettes with featureless faces and dead, hollow red eyes... Enclosing him, laughing, shrieking, sobbing, whispering... He... He was back. Back in his physical body, wracked by pain and illness, tormented by voices and visions...

He could taste blood. Blood in his mouth, dripping from his lips...

I...What... Was that? His thoughts fragmenting, so hard to concentrate... So hard to breathe... Blood. Dripping from his lips, half choking him... Pain... Utter pain...

What was it that he had just seen? That cold light... That... Voice.... Had it even been real?

He...

“...He’s bleeding worse again....”

Pain... Blood... It... Please stop...

“...Hold on, Druuvbin...”

Voices, whispers, screams... An orchestra of suffering, of misery, a lament of lost souls...

“...Kitsune, give him the shot... I’m sorry, Druu, but you’ve got to have it...” Ryuuji’s apologetic, caring voice drifting through his blood tinged visions, the sound of the kokuei’s voice so soothing...

--“You don’t deserve to live... You never did.... You really are a mistake...”—

A stinging sensation in the crook of his numbing arm, followed by fire, fire and ice coursing through him. The medicines working through his veins, burning, freezing... Pain.... Utter pain...

--“...Mn... Oh I can make him suffer, I assure you. Just tell me what you want him to see, what you want him to feel. I’ll make him see it. I’ll make him feel it...”—

--“..Oh I believe I’ll let you decide what to make him see and feel. You know what lies in his heart better than I. After all, that’s your ‘specialty.’ Use it to make him suffer. Suffer and die... Slowly. You can do that, right, Deimos?...”—

--“...It should be a fun game... Such a fun game...”--

Voices... Of people he did not know, words he did not understand...

Too many...

Too many voices, too many languages, too many words... He... It... So hard to focus, to understand the voices, the words, he...

He...

“R-Ryuuji...” he forced the name from his numbing, bloodstained lips, spitting out a mouthful of blood, struggling to keep hold of any mental clarity, of... I... Please I... Don’t want to... Be alone... I... Worse than the pain, worse than the fire and ice... Was the isolation of being trapped within the dark depths of his blood tinged mind. He.... “Ki-Kitsune...”

I don’t want to... I... It hurt.

“Druuvbin? Can you hear us? Druuvbin?” the ice demon’s cool voice soft, gentle, drifting through the bloodstained chaos....

He... He could sense such a weary, suffering sensation from the woman. Torn... She... She is running herself... Ragged, trying to take care... Care of Everyone... Malba, Kopaka... Kouji-chan... And of course myself. If only he could... Summon forth the energy to speak with the woman, to... I’m sorry...

The pain and worry he put his friends through, the terrible burden he had become over the years... It hurt worse than any physical pain ever could. To know that he was the cause to these wonderful, loving souls’ pain and... Suffering... “...I’m...I’m sorry... Sana nai...”

His world... His world was drifting back into the blood tinged darkness, the shadows lurking, beckoning... In some ways... Wouldn’t it... Be better to just...

--Hm. I suppose I did make you worse. You’re bleeding rather badly again I see. My apologies. Yet still, giving up? That isn’t the deal. Are you too cowardly to live? What of those friends of yours? Do you honestly believe they would be better off without you? Fool... Giving up is so dull, don’t you think?--

That voice again... Who... Who are you? Was it even real? That being he had glimpsed, made of sunlight....

--Me? I’m not telling you yet. I guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out. Can you do that, Vetein of Diraka? You aren’t going to give up again, like you did so many years ago, are you? You know, when you killed everyone you knew and loved?--

How... How could... This ‘voice’ know that? If... If it was indeed even real, not... Not a mere delusion, a... That... That wasn’t... Giving up... That... A fresh wave of burning pain ripped through his cold body and his thoughts trailed, his mind... Fragmenting, deteriorating... He... He had to... Concentrate, he... I... I... Did what any monster... Would do... Giving up had nothing to do with it...

--I see. Yes, I suppose you’re right. Again, my apologies. You may be a lot of things, but you most certainly have a strong will. The fact that you’ve lived as long as you have is a testament to your strength. You could have given in ages ago. Yet you still remain. Most interesting,-- that loud, quiet voice silently stated, a thoughtful tenor in those soundless words. --Regardless, I can’t stay here. We’ll meet again, assuming you manage to live that is.--

....Can’t stay? What... What did the voice mean by that? He...

No response was given from that being of light, only shrieks, whispers, laughter, cries.... Voices, so many voices...

Visions. Flashing so fast. Images from times long since past, images of death and misery, blood and decay. Sightless eyes, bloodstained lips...

And grey.... A wave of grey... An oncoming sea of grey, washing closer, closer.... Yuki-chan? The man claiming to be a spirit... Yuki lay in that sea of grey, drowning in grey waters, deep, grey... Yuki-chan? Yuki-chan... What did this mean? What.... What had that... ‘Observer’ meant, what....

A sea of grey enclosing on the small framed man, closer and closer, his sad grey eyes filled with tears, his slender body fading, fading... Yet... Someone else... Someone else in the waters.... Someone...

The vision faded, taking away that sea of grey, darkness swiftly returning. Bleak, blood soaked darkness. He... Why couldn’t he see? What... That grey... “I’m... I’m sorry...” Mumbled words, pain and suffering... Blood...

“Don’t be sorry, Druu. Don’t be sorry...” Ryuuji’s smooth voice floating through the requiem of lost souls, that soothing, caring voice. He... He could barely feel the man, yet... He... The kokuei was holding him tightly, holding him against his body, a comforting embrace... Ryuuji’s body so warm, so...

Why... Why was it that he couldn’t find the man? Why had he been blinded? Yet now... Now as he was tenderly held by the purple haired demon, it... It was so clear. The pain and misery he... Had endured...

The screams he had attempted so very bravely to hold back as that clear, deceptively harmless appearing liquid was poured into his eye... Ultimately the demon had failed, screamed in agony as that poison ate into his eye, blood dripping, pouring down his face.... Then sickness, thrown into a cell to suffer alone, to suffer the ravaging illness... He...

--“...Druu...Druuvbin...”-- those whispered words had escaped Ryuuji’s lips as he lay on a cold, hard stone floor, curled in a fetal position as his body... Was wracked with... The terrible illness of hizeme-doku... Sickness, horrible sickness...

“...I’m...sorry...”

Why? Why hadn’t he seen it? Why... Why was it that his powers... Anymore, he... It seemed he always... I...See it too late... Always... I...

Pain. Ripping through his veins, pain, agony. Hot fire, burning ice... The medicines tearing into him, his body trembling, seizing... Pain...

“...I know it hurts, Druu. I know those damn drugs hurts... But we can’t let you bleed any more. I know it hurts, but you’re going to be okay. You just have to hold on for a little longer. Okay, Druu? Okay?” Soft words, drifting into his deteriorating thoughts, his fragmenting mind...

--“Na vetein, vetein! Gareh? Gareh? Beinea!”—

--“Why do you continue to live? Why can’t you just hurry up and die?”—

--“Get away from me, monster.”—

--“Don’t go near him... He’s not normal.”--

--“Get that monster away from me! I don’t care if it is a child. It’s a monster. It’s nothing more than a soulless monster.”—

Somewhere between reality and dreams, he drifted, in shadows, amongst dancing specters from the past... Shadows, featureless shadows. Featureless, save for their eyes. Red, iridescent eyes, cold, unforgiving, suffering.... He was drifting... Further and further into the realm of dreams, into the realm of shadows and blood, pain and misery. Farther and farther away from consciousness...

So... Cold...

He... How long? How much longer? He...

Summoning as much strength as he could possibly muster, Druuvbin slightly shifted in Ryuuji’s warm embrace, pressing his head into the man’s chest. It hurt... It hurt so much...

“Druu?”

It hurt...

That warm embrace... How he had missed it. I thought... You were... Dead... I... He hadn’t expected to ever... Feel that warm embrace... Ever again...

Loud. Laughter, mocking, scathing.... Shrieks... Sobs, heart wrenching sobs.... Too much, too much...

He pressed his head against Ryuuji, fighting to speak, to say something, anything... Yet his lips would not move, his sightless eyes frozen closed... He... His world was fading back into dreams, dreams...

He... He really... Loved Ryuuji... So very much...

Na lanei sa... Na lanei... Sa...

Yet he... To admit it to the man, that... To tell him, he... I shouldn't... Have... I... I can't believe I...Told him that I...

...Na lanei sa...

To admit it to anyone, to utter those words... He...

--“...I love you, mommy...”—

--“Your 'love' is a curse. Never tell me that again. Never tell anyone that. You... You’re a mistake. A terrible mistake.”—

--“...I’m sorry, mommy...”--

--“...You should be. You should be sorry.”--

He...

...I’m sorry... I’m sorry...

As the shadows danced about, whispering, screaming, blood and death... He... He could vaguely feel tears drip from his closed eyes, down his cold cheeks...

It all... It all seemed so very...

...So very cold...

Please... I... Don’t... Want to be... Alone....

His world faded into dark, blood soaked dreams, and once again... The suffering psychic was utterly alone.

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