Ch11-6: Dark Reflections

The burning in his chest tore TsuYa from the darkness of his sleep-haze with a sickly choke, his breath wheezing between his lips in labored gasps.

Again… this dream…nightmare… whatever…

He didn’t need to open his eyes to know where he would find himself. Part of him wanted nothing more than to remain curled in his own silence… hoping that if he did not look, did not see, the place around him would not exist. But the burning along the surface of his skin told him otherwise.

How long have I been here…?

Slowly, laboriously he forced his eyes open. Eyes that had grown as dark as the lurking shadows of the chamber’s hidden corners.

“Ahh!” TsuYa jerked back at the sight with a startled, raspy exclamation.

His reflection shown back at him from the surface of a looming glass structure — part of the strange silver globe that stood in the center of the chamber, just as it had always stood in his dreams before. Only, this time, it was TsuYa’s own image that had changed. His complexion had grown darker, skin and hair taking on a sickly shade of grey.

“No!” he pushed away from the image, hands rising up before his face as if to shield his eyes from the terrible vision.

It was then that he saw his hands before him… perfectly fine, untouched by the darkness of his reflection. With a choking hiss of breath, TsuYa flicked his eyes back to the image in the glass, only to find his reflection once more unaltered and normal. Dark green eyes peered back at him, white hair… his skin even more pale than usual from the rising of his fear.

What was that!?

Fighting to regulate the thrumming of his heart, TsuYa remained staring at the glassy surface of the cloudy silver globe. His breath came less labored as, for once in the dream state, the burning in his chest actually began to lessen.

Just a trick of the mind…

The only sounds within the chamber were his panting and the low hum of the strange mechanism that occupied the center of the chamber. The air was still and stale, not even a whisper of motion passing through the long dark streams of cloth that draped from the obscuring shadows of the chamber’s ceiling. There was still a heavy feeling of death lingering upon the stone of the walls… but it was old death, now. A haunting kind of death that shifted among the strange mists and drifted to caress the surface of the glassy, silver globe.

This place is full of mind tricks…

As the light of the globe shimmered in the depths of his eyes, there was movement from the soupy depths of the liquid within. Startled out of his self-thoughts, TsuYa jerked back in a quick crouch, ready for flight-by-instinct. Once again his pulse began to race faster, a sharp feeling of dread tingling through his limbs.

Something in there is alive..?

Each time that he had visited the dream before, there had been a presence within the globe. A presence that had continued to grow more powerful, more dreadful with each return he had made. And this time, the whole room felt tight, wound with tension and trepidation.

Nothing’s ever moved inside of that thing before…

As if in response to his thoughts, the movement came again. Just a shadow flickering from within the silver glow. The mists parted and swirled throughout the room, chilling his skin upon touch.

TsuYa found himself taking another step back. Still, he couldn’t find the will to pull his eyes from the center of the globe. A terrible fascination drew him to watch, just as all of his logic screamed through his mind in warning.

This feeling… it’s… so…

A dull thud resounded through the chamber as the shadow moved within the globe again. This time he could make out a shape… it was a tiny hand, pressing against the glass of the globe, from the inside.

A gasp escaped TsuYa’s lips as he startled back, his daze split apart through sheer surprise. Just as quickly as the shape had formed against the glass, the hand withdrew and vanished.

Another shiver wracked his body. A different sort of shiver. Not one that came from the pressing of the silver mists… but one that was familiar to him all the same.

“Welcome, TsuYa,” a voice resounded through the chamber, worming its way into his mind and capturing him at once. “I see that you have come to visit my son again?”

All coherent thought dribbled out of his ear as he found himself clumsily turning to face the vast presence, the owner of such a voice. Motion was hard, as if he was fighting for control of his own limbs. Thought was dim, his mind struggling to hold fast to his own pattern of thoughts.

A man stood there, bathed in the depths flowing shadows… a man that TsuYa had never seen before. Yet, a man he undoubtedly knew upon first glance.

TsuYa’s voice came in a hoarse rasp, the name fumbling upon his tongue, “Zer…om…”

He was tall and slender-built, dressed down in dark violet robes of fine, wispy material. His facial features were well-sculpted to an unearthly perfection, a hint of arrogance and hidden cruelty shown behind the depths of his eyes… dark eyes that seemed to go on into eternity. His hair, long and caught back in a finely woven wrap, shown a pale silvery-white that was streaked with touches of grey and black throughout.

“You have not forgotten my promise to you, TsuYa?” a slow, deadly smile slithered over the man’s lips.

The Apprentice shook his head, forcing himself to step back.

“I thought not,” Zerom moved forward, a slow, liquid motion upon the air — he had no use for walking. “There is much for you and I to accomplish yet. There is still time before my son will be ready to rise up beside us.”

Did he call this thing his son..?

TsuYa’s eyes darted towards the flickering of shadow within the silver mists of the globe.

But how is that possible?

“Yes. My son… LuShi,” one hand lifted, motioning to the globe in the center of the chamber.

A deathly cold shiver rushed through TsuYa’s mind again, rendering him speechless.

LuShi?

His mouth grew dry, stinging eyes fixed upon the globe once more, the sense of foreboding growing more and more sharp with each passing second.

In the old language… that translates to mean…

Echoes of his last argument with JouKa rushed to fill his head. The things that he had dismissed so casually suddenly reared their head at him in fierce round-about.

The Bane…

The impossibility of such a thing coming to pass shook him to the marrow. The impossibility of the creature that was encapsulated within the silver globe, just a mere few feet away, numbed his body cold. The terror of the dark being that rose before him made his soul scream out in maddening desperation.

Yet all he could do was stand there. Stand there and stare.

All this time… as I have been dreaming… Zerom has been creating this thing?

“Indeed,” Zerom’s slick, dark voice rose around him, caressing through the confusion that held him riveted to the floor. “My son will grow to mark a glorious victory for my forces. Zemi believes that the sheer number of his creations give him the advantage. But I will show him that my single creation will far outstrip anything that he could ever dream up.”

“You want to fight Zemi?” shock and surprise colored TsuYa’s voice.

“Zemi was given a warning not to do as he has done,” the voice grew all at once stern. Cold as stone. “He chose to ignore all that was said… this is something he has brought upon himself.”

“But, isn’t he your brother?”

“My brother?”  A low, chilling sound filtered through the room.

It took TsuYa a moment to realize… Zerom was laughing. Or, something that translated into what could be taken as a laugh. The sound was so devoid of true mirth, so menacing, it choked any further questions out of TsuYa’s mind.

“He ceased to be my brother when he chose to become Rhoi’r. An outcast… one banished from our people for his pride and desire of power,” the words became more distorted, a fuzzed sound around the edges, tinged with a hint of dark madness. The silvery mists began to churn throughout the room in response. “Zemi has become swayed in the grips of Chaos… one that shall be hunted till the ends of land.”

What is he talking about? Zemi… banished and hunted? How can that be?

“And you, young TsuYa. Where do you draw your lines in this battle?” the Arweinydd ‘s voice turned upon him, the full force nearly buckling his knees.

When the Apprentice found himself unable to form the words to answer, Zerom continued.

“You still have a chance, TsuYa…. the School… Nefol… everything that your father and brother are forsaking… these things can be yours.”

A sudden jolt rushed through his limbs at the words. Nefol. His home… the School… everything that he had worked for years to secure in the memory of his father. What would become of it now that the leaders had fled? What of the people… of the teachings… of his position… his birthright?

“Indeed… it should be yours. No one has cared for the establishment quite as much as you have,” the darkness purred to him, beginning to hover closer, feeding into his emotion.

“That’s… true…” the words of agreement hardly sounded like his own. So distant, TsuYa could not feel the motion of his lips as he spoke.

No…! Don’t give into this… you’ve done this before!

One slender-boned hand reached out towards TsuYa, a welcoming motion. Compelled, the Apprentice felt himself moving forward. One wobbly step towards the rising silver mists.

“It can all be yours, TsuYa… you don’t need them to tell you how it is done. You don’t need them to tell you how to live your life.”

You’ve fallen to his tricks before! Remember what happened the first time!?

His teeth bared, streams of struggling sweat trailing down TsuYa’s brow. Somewhere in the depths of his chest, the burning began again. The flickering image of his reflection, transformed — black-eyed, dark-haired – flashed through his mind.

He’s lying to you! Fight it!

The extended hand groped further, becoming less welcoming and more demanding as Zerom felt his efforts being repelled. “TsuYa… you cannot escape what you are meant to become…. my Rhyswyr.”

This time revulsion grew so strong that TsuYa’s voice exploded through him, “No! Never! I’ll never bow to you!”

“You speak as if you have a choice,” a grim smile slipped over the cold, white features. Zerom’s dark eyes focused sharply, draining away any will that might have given his prey a fighting chance.

As the Arweinydd’s fingers splayed wide, the pain within the Apprentice’s chest exploded in sharp sparks, rushing throughout his entire body. TsuYa’s head slammed backwards, reeling on the fragile length of neck as a ripping burst of wetness split open his lower cheek. His voice gurgled from gape-mouthed torment, fighting desperately to sound the agony that consumed him.

Reeling on the tips of his toes in a broken-back arch, his eyes rolling back into his skull, TsuYa felt his senses swim and scatter out of his reach. There was a scream… a scream that did not belong to him. A woman’s scream… and the feeling of movement around him in the phasing darkness that swept over his vision.

Time and again, his name was called. He felt himself shaken roughly, the pain intensifying, welling up until he could no longer bear it… an animalistic screech ripping from his throat. A sound so chilling, so inhuman… it seemed impossible that such a shriek could come from himself.

Jolted fully awake at the sound, TsuYa’s eyes flipped open and the blur of his own room in Ceiswyr slowly rose to his vision. Winged people stood staring at him from the threshold of his doorway, eyes wide with shock and fear. JouKa and Aunt SaRa stood among them, their faces reflecting the same apprehension and concern.

“Tsu…Ya…?” Aunt SaRa finally spoke, voice wobbly and wary.

He gave a low, uncomfortable groan at the sight of so many people staring at him.

“Go on, now. Get back to yer beds!” JouKa turned instantly on the prying eyes, waving them away with wide sweeps of her hands.

Slowly, the people filed out, but not without a few wandering stares in TsuYa’s direction. Finally, JouKa pushed the door shut, turning her own pale face back towards the happenings of the room.

“Hedd-ynad… TsuYa…” Aunt SaRa approached him carefully. “Are you going to tell me that this was just another bad dream, too?”

“What… are you talking about?” he grumbled, fighting to regain his senses. The room wanted to keep spinning, leaving him too dizzy to throw up his normal defenses against his Aunt’s kindly prying.

Aunt SaRa silently pulled a cloth from one side pocket. Folding it into a square, she reached out and gingerly dabbed at his cheek.

“Ow!” TsuYa hissed, suddenly aware of the terrible stinging that enveloped the whole left side of his face.

As she pulled the cloth away, he could see it was wet — covered with a thick black liquid. “I’m talking about this?”

One hand instantly shot up to his face, the stinging intensifying for one blurry-eyed moment. His fingers met with a number of long, yawning gashes that traced the entire lower area of his cheek. When he finally pulled his hand away, it too was covered with a slick black liquid.

Not… blood…

His hand began to shake as he stared down at it.

What is this…?

Gently, Aunt SaRa’s cloth was there, wiping the darkness from his fingers. And her voice broke through his panicked silence. “TsuYa… I think we need to hear what is going on now.”

Even after the darkness had been wiped away, he could not bring himself to drop his hand.

“Com’on, TsuYa. Let us ‘elp ya…” JouKa prodded, hands planted on her hips.

After a long moment of stunned silence, TsuYa looked up at them numbly, fighting back the tears that threatened to overrun his dignity. To his surprise, he heard himself choke in agreement, “Okay…”

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