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Chapter Seven
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The pair didn�t speak for a long moment, but simply stared at the atrocity lying at their feet. The sockets that had glowed with unearthly light were dull and dead now; the voice that had recently expressed immeasurable suffering and despair seemed only a dream, or a hallucination when in full view of the demon�s face which harbored it. Neither of them even wanted to say anything. It would have only made the reality more horrible.
Albel was the first to initiate any sort of movement, but Fayt followed close behind, snapped out of his reverie. Stepping carefully over what had once been Cecil�s human body, the two continued deeper into the hidden dungeon lying like a forgotten corpse beneath Airyglyph Castle. As they walked the air became significantly colder, and Fayt watched his breath plume into white clouds before his face. He wanted to draw attention to it, but instead kept his lips shut. There was no way Albel couldn�t have noticed anyway.
They were coming up the end of the passage. Though it was a dead end they continued to approach it, and Fayt saw Albel glare irritably at the wall in the soft glow of the lightstone. There was nothing, no one there. But the other troops who had descended into this very hall couldn�t have just disappeared without a trace. The two stole an uncomfortable glance at one another.
�You�ve been checking all the cells, have you not?� Albel�s voice was low and controlled while his eyes remained fixed on the wall, as if the thing would suddenly crumble and reveal another mess of passages abandoned for centuries.
�Yeah, but I didn�t see anything. Just a few old cots.�
Albel nodded. �Then there is nothing left for us to do here.�
Fayt wondered what the king would say once they returned, the slaying of the only survivor (if the man could have been called that) their one accomplishment. �But��
�Save it,� Albel bit. �They�re obviously dead, or else they fled when no one was looking, the fools.�
With that, Albel turned and began back toward the entrance. He was clearly perturbed by the lack of any evidence suggesting that others had even been there, though he tried to conceal it with his usual smug expression. But even as they walked away, the temperature continued to plummet.
The pair followed the halls�it turned out nearly impossible to get lost as there were no forks in their path, just a seemingly endless spans of corridors�and when they came back to the first cell, where the threshold to the other wing of dungeons lay, they found more cells stretching out before them. The ice in the air was visible then, like glitter drifting down in a snow globe, and cut like needles. They stopped and Albel suddenly flung his head around to look behind. A wall.
�We�re back where we ended up,� he said to no one in particular.
�Are you sure?� Fayt gingerly touched the wall. It felt solid enough. �We couldn�t have just walked through this.�
�I know that, fool. Yet here we are.� Albel ground his teeth.
Along the stretch of stones opposite the cellblocks, where tepid water had been dripping along the cracks, a creaking sound rippled and sliced the quiet surrounding them. Both sets of eyes turned toward the noise and watched as ice grew from the ceiling down through the thin rivulets, solidifying the fetid drool within seconds.
The lightstone suddenly flickered. Fayt glared at it and gave it a hard shake. It responded by glowing progressively brighter until the entire corridor was illuminated in all its bleak glory, as if the noonday sun had suddenly breached the underground and glared without mercy on a place never meant to be swathed in light. The very walls seemed to bulge and retract at the sudden, unwelcome white flood. The bars glistened violently and ricocheted the rays away like bullets. Then all at once the lightstone fizzled and died out completely, leaving the pair to utter blackness. The sound of ice crackled with a faint echo ahead in the distance.
Fayt smacked the orb against his palm; nothing happened. All was quiet, but he could hear Albel�s breath quicken almost imperceptibly. Or was that his own? He suddenly had the terrible, oppressive sensation that he was alone between those cold walls and instinctively reached out to where Albel had last been standing. A freezing breath of air met his hand instead.
�Albel? Where are you?� There was no reply. �Come on, say something.� Still nothing. His panic swelled. �Hey! Albel!� He was nearly shouting.
Fayt took a tentative step forward, groping the dead air, fingers searching desperately for something, anything, that would pull him from that void. His fingers crashed hard into a wall and he quickly drew them back, sucking in a sharp breath and a curse. He could hardly feel his numbed fingertips as it was. Ignoring it as best he could, he fanned both hands out along the stones and began to walk slowly, using it as a guide. That Albel had suddenly disappeared was less crucial than simply getting out of that awful darkness, which seemed to creep like a disorienting fume into his mind. There was nothing he could do for his friend now if he himself was at the mercy of whatever, if anything, watched him with smiling lips from the pitch. He would find his way out, race to acquire another lightstone, and come back to find Albel. Yes. That�s what he would do. Maybe one of the other knights would help him out. Or someone else from the castle. Anyone.
He felt a corner in the wall and turned, tripping on something long lying in his path. His balance abandoned him and he fell over it, realizing even on the way down that whatever it was felt both soft and sturdy. Like a body. He caught his weight with his hands before his face could connect with the cold stone floor, and something like a cloth snake was crushed beneath his hand. As he sat there for a moment trying to recollect himself, his hand moved as if by its own will in search of some end to the strange thing. He felt hair. One of Albel�s tails.
Panic renewed, Fayt scrabbled to a less awkward kneeling position. He feared the worst when he reached out to touch the fallen body, but was completely at a loss for reaction when he realized there was nothing there. But he had only withdrawn his hand for a second, and he had definitely tripped over something. There was no feasible way that whatever it was could have been dragged away in that time, and without him at least hearing it.
Confused and half mad with fear, Fayt jumped to his feet and sought the wall again. He stood with his back against the thing, his only source of security, and tried to catch his breath and slow his heartbeat. He swallowed and closed his eyes, focusing on his central energy point to calm down. Focus�focus. Wait. Of course! In his frenzy he had completely mislaid his magical abilities. His eyes flew open and Fayt chanted a few words, summoning a bright ball of red fire to his hands. It swirled and sputtered dangerously until he consciously condensed his powers, shrinking the orb to a manageable source of warm light. With it he was finally able to glance around, but what he saw made him wish he were left back to total darkness.
Albel moved to elbow Fayt harshly in the ribs after vainly calling out to the blue-haired boy in the sudden darkness, but when he caught only air he nearly fell flat on his face. He stumbled and regained his balance at the last second, snarling in red-hot irritation.
�Hey! Don�t you dare try to leave without me, or I swear I�ll gut you.� He squinted in the dark to no avail. Nothing could be made out much less sensed at all. �Answer me, maggot!�
Albel knew he was alone, he could sense that much at least. Although the vague feeling of eyes upon him pervaded his brain, the dizzying atmosphere also muddled his reason. Surely he was imagining it. He shook his head as if that would help him. In fact it only made his skull ache more.
Since the moment he first set foot in the foyer to that damnable pit, something felt as though it were attempting to claw its way either into or out of his head. No stranger to sudden headaches, he thought nothing of it and just pushed it aside so that he could simply get his work done. But from the second he saw that black hole gaping in the wall, like the yawning maw of death itself, the pain had instantly tripled. He didn�t like that. Not the pain by any means, but the loss of control, the will to mentally defy the physical. He had tried so hard his ears actually bled. Only when he stepped through the wall did the agony subside, which just angered him more. It was as though whatever was waiting down there, waiting and watching, was merely playing with him. The heinous alteration of his former subordinate proved that much.
He groped out for a moment until he found the wall and began to walk alongside it. The bitter air chewed through his skin and made his bones ache, but he kept his pace, refusing to stop lest he freeze over completely. The exit had to be close. A crooked rock jutting out of the wall scraped his thigh as he passed it. Damn it all. He suddenly wished he had forced Fayt to teach him a few of those infernal magic tricks earlier. Maybe then he could get through this unscathed.
He had been walking for nearly five whole minutes without a single corner to lead him down another hallway, though he knew from his initial walk that no such corridor was so long. Suddenly the Crimson Scourge hummed in its sheath at his side. He thought he heard a soft, feminine voice say his name somewhere just ahead. He stopped and listened. It came again, barely above a whisper, not a step from his right side. His body tensed and he gripped the handle of his sword.
�Who�s there?� He faced the direction of the voice though he still could not see anything.
A light giggle echoed behind him and he whipped about to see a faint light hovering in the palm of a pale, blonde woman�s hand. She was looking directly at him and smiling benignly. The recognition hit him so brutally his knees nearly collapsed beneath him.
�M-mother?�
Her smile widened at the word. �Are you lost in the dark again, Little Albel?� Her voice was soft and sweet, but resonated strangely with hollowness.
Albel�s brows knit tightly in concentration as he attempted to discover a fatal flaw in the specter that would prove it to be a hoax. But nothing was made visible.
The woman�s head jerked to the side, but her eyes never left his face. She tittered like a small bird. �Your father would be so disappointed in you. No, he already is.�
�What is this nonsense?� He could hardly think of anything meaningful to say. Whatever this trick, this illusion of light was doing to him it worked well.
The woman blinked languidly. �Ahhh. Always with the questions. Have you not learned anything on your own by now?�
Albel stared at her. Inexplicable compulsion vibrated in his feet, and he desired to approach her, but instead grimaced and shook his head to dispel the fog. �Whatever you are, be gone from my sight. That woman is dead.�
�It is because of your incessant questions, your fear of the dark, that he is dead. It is because of you that Glou is dead.� She pronounced his father�s name with cold precision.
�Be gone!�
�And because of you that I too am dead.�
Albel�s mind reeled. He bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood and to distract himself. The shock of dull pain grounded him and he glared at the apparition. �I know not what you desire, but I swear you shall pay with every one of your limbs for this farce.�
The woman smiled in pure glee, like a child receiving a long-coveted toy on her birthday. She bent forward and hovered her face just barely an inch from Albel�s. Her expression grew unquestionably serious. �No, it is you who shall pay, Albel.�
With one last wickedly delighted grin the phantom vanished, taking the dim light with it. Albel was left to darkness again, and the cold had never felt so merciless.
He was sure he was hallucinating at this point, and Fayt rubbed his eyes until they cried out in pain. But when the green geometric shapes dissipated from behind his eyelids and he finally braved another chance in opening them, the same scene, illuminated in the barely bright firelight, lay before him. His pupils dilated in sheer revulsion and horror.
There were piles of them. Bodies. Behind the cell bars. Both moving and immobile. There were whole ones, limbs, rotting and fresh, bones the color of mildew, components that he could not identify. They seeped and writhed like bloody entrails around and in between one another. They made horrible sounds, too loud to be natural.
Fayt�s knees buckled and he slid down the wall into a crumpled pile of shock. He had never seen anything like this, not even in his most vivid nightmares. His mind repeated over and over the falsity of what he was seeing, but he still couldn�t wholly believe it.
A figure stepped out from behind one of the mounds of carnage; it was a man. His arms and eyes were gone and only shallow holes surrounded by what looked like wounds that had clotted but never healed remained. He hobbled closer until the cell bars stopped him and then he leaned into them as if he had never tasted relief until that moment. His ghastly countenance turned and faced Fayt.
�Whhyy?� The voice that issued from his mouth was a gale passing through a barren valley.
The man�s head rotated then, and Fayt heard the vertebrae cracking. Despite the nausea that welled up in his stomach, and no matter how much he wanted to, he could not turn away. Something about this man captivated him, though he did not know why.
�You�you�.are�.monster�.this is what�.your power�.to us��
Alarm flared up in Fayt�s mind, but its nature was just barely out of reach. He shook his head at the man from want of any other action.
�We�so cruelly�you killed��
The raw, destructive energy that lay dormant within his veins lazily blinked its eyes from slumber before closing them again and Fayt suddenly understood. These were the people he had killed without even being aware of it. These were the bodies his power had mutilated before sending them to the grave. These were the nameless, the faceless, his enemies. Yes, he had leveled an entire ship of them.
�Homes�lives�� The man staggered.
Another form, a woman with burns covering so much of her body she was just barely recognizable as such, emerged from the seething shadows accompanied by a child who also had burn marks, which had consumed half of her young face. The other half was pure and innocent, a seed of remarkable beauty that never had the chance to germinate. He couldn�t tear his eyes away from her. She looked so much like Sophia used to�
�Give them back�� the woman moaned behind the man.
�Give them back�� the little girl echoed.
Fayt watched in a mixture of fright and sudden self-loathing as the child reached her arms through the bars toward him. He stood up, his gaze fixed on the naked pleading in her sparkling green eye, and approached her. Her resemblance to Sophia in childhood was so uncanny. She compelled him, and he was ready. Ready to confess his sins, to confess everything he had done wrong since the day of his birth. Ready to offer something, anything to appease her. He wanted to reassure her that he had no choice...
But when Fayt reached out his eyes began to ache, and he shut them for a moment to ease the pain. He was hardly sure when they were open again, as blackness once again consumed him from every side. He was in the dark, his arms stretched through the gaps between the bars of an empty cell. His spell had exhausted itself, and no one was there.
Albel kicked the loose rock that had wavered his stride when he stepped on it. He could hear it careening along the floor until it smacked into a metallic bar. He grumbled and kept walking, his sense of hearing piqued to maximum in the event of another strange encounter. Whoever it was that had enjoyed toying with him to such an extent had obviously known something about his past. But how it knew which buttons to push was another question. Albel swore when he found the culprit, whether it was from this world or not, he would take his time in dismantling it with his claws. This was personal.
As he passed the cell where the rock had bounced to, he heard something shuffle. Ignoring it, he pressed on. Then, from the shadows, something kicked the same rock, or so he assumed, and the thing skidded across the floor to land in his path again. Once he felt it beneath his shoe, he stopped and noisily sighed.
�I know you�re there. If you have some dealings with me then come out with it already! Or are you too terrified that I will strike you down?� His threat was genuine, though he also hoped it would provoke the invisible force that had been watching him the entire time into revealing itself. An unearthly chuckle emanated like wrinkled silk from the cell across from him.
Albel stopped and glared through the darkness. �Show yourself.�
�And tell me, what good would that do you? To see my form�� The voice was deep and clear but strangely subtle in its inflection; it was obvious that the speaker could be a powerful orator if he chose. But there was something unnamable about it that sent chills of both apprehension and curiosity down Albel�s spine.
�We can discuss that after I tear your eyes out,� the swordsman snarled and prepared to extract his katana.
�Always with the threats. I wonder whether or not you are truly capable of carrying them out.�
�Then come and test me.�
There was a moment quiet, each one sizing up the other, though Albel was at a distinct disadvantage. He didn�t care though. He would not be made a fool of.
�Are you not at all concerned with the sake of your friend? I am a bit surprised you have not inquired about him, or even your comrades for that matter,� the mysterious voice spoke.
That�s right. Fayt had disappeared. Somewhere within the din of this nightmare he had forgotten all about the kid. Something about the dense blackness had made him mislay the nature of his being there at all. But he didn�t want to let the slip show. �What are you getting at?�
�Do you not want to see him again? He is, after all, the only one you have left now.�
�How dare you speak so casually to me��
The voice in the dark continued like Albel hadn�t spoken. �But perhaps your past will be too much for you to overcome. Will you allow him to be destroyed as you did your own parents?�
Albel marked the direction from which the voice was coming and strode toward it, uncaring that he could not see a thing. His sword sliced up along the sheath as he withdrew it and he plunged the blade with deadly precision through the bars into the cell.
�Hahaha. What are you trying to do?� The laughter was dreadful more for its fragile beauty than its empty resonance.
�I will kill you. One way or another.� Albel�s head suddenly began to ache again. A faint, constant ringing scraped along his eardrums, steadily growing louder. When the sound had swelled to overbearing, he staggered and dropped his sword in favor of cradling his head. It felt as though his skull would implode.
�Stop being so rash. I was merely curious,� the being spoke. �Besides, you cannot kill me.�
He could not tell whether the voice now came from outside or from within his head, and Albel hardly felt himself drop to his knees with intensified pain. A strange, yellowish light gradually filled the corridor and the presence made itself known by stepping forward through the iron bars, as if they were made of vapor, and standing before Albel. The swordsman forced his eyes open against the onslaught of agony and bared his teeth, taking in the visage of his new mortal enemy.
It was a young man, tall and pale to the point that he nearly looked like a corpse, but not unpleasant to look upon. His hair was shoulder-length and pure white. The clothes that shrouded him were black and red, cut in a style foreign and ornate, and appeared to be incredibly expensive. A sword that practically dripped dull orange and red flames was at his side in a lax grip. But the eyes of the stranger struck Albel the most. They were molten gold, feral, and shone in the dim like a wildcat�s. A disarming smile lay oddly juxtaposed beneath them.
�Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier,� the man said as if it was completely rational in its obviousness. �I am Romero, King of the Dead.�
The Glyphian snarled, wishing nothing more than to spring upon the demon and attack, but he could hardly move.
Romero placed his free hand on his hip and cocked his head as he studied the man at his feet. �Well now, you do not seem to be in the position of power of which you boasted earlier.� He lifted his fiery sword and placed it lightly beneath Albel�s chin. �Where did all that passion go?�
Albel�s eyes blazed in the light of the demon�s sword. �Do not�.underestimate�me�� He gathered all his strength and concentration into his arm and threw his claw up into Romero�s blade, knocking it away from his face.
The otherworldly chuckle came again. �Oh? Impressive. I believe I will enjoy our time together henceforth. Unfortunately now is not the time for our real game to begin, so I must regretfully bid you adieu.�
Romero turned back toward the cell but stopped with an afterthought. �Oh yes, before I go I shall return your �faithful� underlings to your charge. They are no longer of any use to me.� He waved his hand in a wide arc before him and cast one final smirk in Albel�s direction before dissipating into a haze of mist.
Suddenly the pain in Albel�s head was gone. He stood and whipped about, searching for a presence, but nothing was there. The oppressive sensation of eyes upon him had vanished. He didn�t know what Romero meant by returning his troops to him, but hardly had to wait for the answer.
The groaning of multiple voices echoed at the end of the hall, and he could see three other figures slowly approaching with axes and other bludgeoning weapons in their hands. They wore the royal armor, but they were no longer human. Albel could see that they had undergone the same transformation that Cecil had, and it sickened him all over again.
Burying his disgust along with any hope of their redemption, he rushed forward, sword at the ready. His blade swung with frightening ease through the hard bone of the first monster�s skull and he followed the motion through, ducking and spinning under the axe of another that was flying straight toward his neck. He swooped the katana up from his crouched position at a slanted angle, sectioning the next body into two. The third abomination was quicker than he had anticipated, and he barely got his claw up in time to block a blow from the club that descended with fatal intentions toward his head. He parried the attack, circling his arm tightly around the thing to throw it out of the still-human hand and knock the monster off balance. Taking advantage of this sudden opening, he zigzagged his sword all the way down his foe�s body and watched with little emotion as it fell like jigsaw pieces to the floor. None of them had bled. Instead, it appeared from the naked gashes that every drop of their human essence had been drained, drying their viscera to dust.
By force of habit, Albel jerked his sword as if there had been gore clinging to it. He resheathed it and walked away, refusing to look back, refusing to allow any sort of blessing or regret for his comrades to pass through his lips let alone his mind. Whatever fate lay in store for them next was none of his concern. It was unfortunate, yes, but whether or not the gods truly looked after mortal affairs did not matter; even if on the off chance they did usher the dead into some kind of afterlife, they were still cruel and unfit for worship. That alone was the extent of his faith.
The dim though unaccountable light still lingered in the passages, and Albel followed them back toward the way out. As he rounded a corner he saw a shivering mass of white and blue crumpled on the floor against a wall. He picked up his pace.
�Where have you been?� Albel barked at Fayt, who suddenly looked up with wild eyes.
Fayt sighed in relief. �It�s you!� He stood and mindlessly dusted off his backside. He wanted to see relief on his friend�s face to match his own, but Albel�s expression was cold. The mood was infectious and Fayt became irritated. �I could ask you the same thing, you know. You suddenly disappeared on me.�
�Let�s save the argument and just get the hell out of here.� Albel strode past the other, refusing to pause to make sure he was all right, though in light of Romero�s cryptic words he had wanted to.
Even in the dim, Fayt could see that Albel was shaking just as much as he was. �Albel, did something�happen to you?�
The Glyphian stopped and whirled around. �Like what?�
Fayt marked the black cloud of fury lingering behind those red eyes and dropped his gaze to the floor. �Never mind.�
Albel continued to walk away. So Fayt had seen something too. Though it wasn�t surprising, he was curious to know what that something was. If anything it might aid him in figuring out the demon�s motives. But at the moment all he wanted was to see the sun again, to know he wasn�t truly trapped in some eternal hell underground.
Albel didn�t bother reporting to the king once his step landed on the main floor of the castle; his path led straight to the watchtower door. He ascended the long spiraling flight of stairs, racing up them two at a time. It was snowing again outside, and the air was bitter, but still not nearly as infernally cold as the dungeons had been. Ignoring the curious glances of the guards, he leaned up against the short tower wall and let the cloud-veiled sun fall on his face.
Fayt was too weary to move up the stairs as Albel had done, but he ascended them with the same anxiousness for seeing the sky. He could do without windowless stone walls for the rest of his life if he had any say in the matter.
The Earthborn boy moved to stand next to Albel, placing his hands on the thick wall sill and breathing the winter air in deep. He was beginning to think Albel was right about his claustrophobia.
The two stood like that for some time, neither saying a word about what they had seen. Neither of them even knew how. What they had experienced was too surreal, too nightmarish to be put justifiably into words.
A castle guard appeared at the top of the stairs and saluted Albel�s turned back. �Captain Nox, sir!�
The addressed turned and gave the man a withering glare.
The guard averted his eyes. �The king summons you, sir.� With that he hurried back down the steps.
Fayt heard something not unlike the growl of a wolf caught in Albel�s throat.
�Not a moment too soon, either. The bastard.� The swordsman obeyed anyway and descended the tower, with Fayt following wordlessly after.
After Albel had relayed the report of their journey, eliminating a great chunk of details in favor of the most basic account of what had happened with a snide afterthought that the same fool who had discovered the passages should be the one to wall them back up, the king stared at him for a moment. The man�s face was disconcerted; his eyes bored against his subject as if whatever was left unsaid could be psychically exhumed. He was practically on the edge of his seat.
�So they were all dead when you arrived then,� the king said and finally dropped his piercing gaze. �That is most terrible.� He turned his eyes to Fayt. �Are you sure you discovered nothing that could lend an answer as to the cause of it?�
Fayt stole a quick glance at Albel without moving his head, but the Glyphian was looking straight ahead. He returned his attention to the man seated upon the throne and blinked. �I�m sorry. I wish we had.�
The king sighed and settled back deeper into the chair. �Then we will simply have to recover their bodies.�
Albel stood from his kneeling position. �I would advise that you send your strongest men then.�
�Why should I do that?�
�Because,� and Albel looked at the monarch gravely, �a weakling will not be able to handle the sight of them.�
The king looked confused, but did not say anything.
�If we are through here,� Albel said, and it was clear that he was tired, �I would request your leave.�
The king nodded and dismissed them. �You will find your quarters ready. And, if you would not mind showing Master Fayt to a guestroom as well?�
Both Albel and Fayt nodded low and retired from the throne room.
Once on the main level of the castle, Albel immediately approached a guestroom door and tested the handle. It was unlocked, and a hot fire lighted the space beyond. He gestured his head at the boy to enter the room.
Fayt moved to do so, torn between being thrilled at having a warm bed to sleep in and being leery of the dreams that awaited him. He stopped dead in the threshold and turned to look straight into Albel�s face. They had been so busy lately, constantly moving, and the days had been hard on them both. Whatever the reason, it felt as though he hadn�t seen the man at all during that time. Maybe it was the way their eyes met that caused the realization; seeing that fiery soul flickering behind the sanguine orbs drilling into his own eyes made his heart skip a beat before thudding harder.
The two passed coded thoughts between them for a while before Albel couldn�t take it anymore. �Why are you staring at me?�
Blinking his trance away, Fayt shook his head. �It�s stupid but�I think I�m afraid to fall asleep.�
Albel hardly realized that he had nodded in agreement. He scowled and glared to make up for it. �If you are about to tell me you want to sleep in my quarters, I�ll kill you.�
Fayt glanced at the empty room behind him. Even with the fire roaring, the thought of being alone at that time made all the heat and sense of security crumble. He looked back at Albel but didn�t reply.
The Glyphian�s shoulders sagged and he rolled his eyes. �Fine. Whatever. But if I hear one peep out of you��
A small, involuntary smile crept over Fayt�s lips and Albel grumbled something incoherent before stomping off in the direction of his own room, a few doors down. Though Albel had made a show of wanting otherwise, Fayt could tell he was not adverse to company at all. And after what the two of them had been through, there was nothing blamable about that.
Albel�s room was just the same as the guest room, except for the various swords and daggers decorating the walls. Fayt shut the door behind him and studied the impressive collection. Some were obviously old and worn, but they had been cared for and displayed as if they were otherwise. One in particular caught his attention: an ornate long sword mounted above the head of the bed in the corner. He moved closer to study it, and reached out to touch the faceted, ruby-colored jewel embedded in its pommel.
�Don�t. Touch that.� Albel seized Fayt�s wrist roughly and pulled it away. At the hurt and startled look in the boy�s green eyes he quickly released his grasp and stepped back. He occupied himself with stirring the fire instead. �That was my father�s.�
�Oh, sorry.� Fayt sat on the floor with his back against the bed and tried to ignore the strange expression on Albel�s face. He pulled off his boots and threw them across the room toward the door.
�Please make yourself at home,� Albel said sarcastically.
When the man began the tedious work of removing the armor and clawed gauntlet from his left arm, Fayt stood and approached carefully. �Can I help you with that?�
Albel threw a sharp sidelong glance at him and turned away. �I am no invalid.�
�I wasn�t suggesting that. I was just trying to be useful.�
�You can be useful by keeping your mouth shut for the rest of the night.�
Fayt sighed and sat heavily upon the bed.
Albel pulled the claw from his mutilated fingers and turned back at the creaking sound. �What do you think you�re doing?�
�What?�
The Glyphian looked at Fayt and lifted his chin in a gesture that said he was not amused.
The blue-haired boy shrugged. �You told me to make myself at home.�
�Hmph.� Albel finished removing his armor and set the pieces on a table away from the fire. �When I said you could stay here I did not mean that you could share my bed.�
Fayt blushed. He hadn�t entertained any thoughts that deviated from innocence until that moment. He stood up and moved a few steps away.
�I�m just imposing on you. I should go back.� Fayt eyed the door. When Albel didn�t reply he started to walk toward it.
The Glyphian watched the shining blue-haired head move further away and the sound of Romero�s voice unwillingly echoed in his mind. �He is, after all, the only one you have left now.� Exactly what that damned demon was implying was lost to him, but he felt deep in his bones that something rang true in those words, though he had no desire to labor for its real meaning. But what he did know was that he didn�t want Fayt to leave.
�Wait.�
Fayt turned, expressionless.
Albel bit the inside corner of his lip before continuing. �Just keep to your side of the bed, got it?�
Fayt nodded and returned. Without bothering to undress he slid into bed and curled up close to the wall, his back to the room. It was large enough; they would be able to sleep without disturbing one another, but he still felt somewhat awkward.
Albel kept his clothes on as well, though they were filthy, and descended beneath the thick fur blanket. He yanked his pillow to fit comfortably beneath his head.
�Albel?�
�What?�
��Thanks.�
�Shut up and go to sleep.�
Fayt smiled at the wall and shut his eyes, intense fatigue suddenly licking at his mind. �Good night.� He was already half asleep.
Albel grimaced with closed eyes. It was strange, but at the same time horribly comforting. He couldn�t remember the last time someone had said those words to him.
That night the demons kept their distance, and the two quickly fell into painless, blessedly dreamless slumber.