Scissors cut the paper,Cut the paper to the bone
Hand over fist, Paper around the stone
Scissors cut the paper and the Rock must stand alone
Zelgadis listened as the others argued about which way to head next. Lina announced that she was in charge, and since she was the leader, she got to decide. Gourry would follow whatever Lina said, but Amelia for once was disputing Lina.
"If we head south, we could be in Saillune within the week!" Amelia cried, wanting to head home.
"Yeah, but pickings are slim around Saillune! I say west; we're more likely to find more bandits that way!" Lina insisted.
Zel didn't care to get involved. It really didn't matter to him where they headed. He'd still keep his eyes and ears open for possible cures, and if the direction that a clue led was away from the group, so be it.
"Hey, Lina, why don't we just go into that town and get something to eat?" Gourry asked.
"Town? What town?"
"There's a sign over there pointing to a town."
Amelia and Lina looked at the sigh, then at each other. With a rousing war cry of "FOOOOD!!" they bolted off, Gourry in hot pursuit. Shrugging, Zelgadis followed calmly. He hated towns, and cities, and in fact, human settlement of any sort. But with this crew, food and beds won over any protest he could possibly make, so why bother?
I could disappear in to the crowd, but not if I keep my head in the clouds.
I could walk away so proud, it's easy enough if you don't laugh too loud.
A meal that could have fed an army later, the quartet of adventurers sat around a table in an inn. Lina sighed and sat back, rubbing her stomach. "Ah, I feel so much better," she exclaimed. "How aobut you, Zel?"
"Hmmm?" Zelgadis had ignored the usual battle over food to such an extent that he was barely aware it was over. "What was that, Lina?"
"Geez, don't you ever eat?" Lina gestured at the nearly empty space of table in front of him. All that sat there was a coffee cup.
Stiffly, Zel replied, "Maybe I just don't feel the need to stuff myself at every opportunity!"
"That's not nice, Mr. Zelgadis!" Amelia wailed. "You know very well we seldom get to eat this well on the road."
Raising a brow, Zelgadis said "Really? So, staying every night at an inn and wasting our bandit loot, excuse me, our 'liberated funds' happens rarely?"
Lina slammed a fist into the table. "Alright, mist grumpy, what's your problem? You've been a jerk all day."
"Have I?"
Gourry began to slink under the table as Lina leaned forward, fire in her eyes. "Yes," she hissed, "What's going on in that stone skull of yours?"
Ice flashed in Zelgadis's eyes. "What did you say?"
Chuckling nervously, Lina suddenly backed down. "You know. You've hardly said a word all day. Spill it: we're your friends. Maybe we can help."
Rising, Zelgadis shrugged. "I doubt that very much. I'm going to bed." He turned and headed up to the rooms they'd rented for the night.
Amelia watched him go sadly, as Lina muttered, "Jerk. He can be such a pain sometimes." But the concern in her eyes belied her words.
I thought I was OK alone, wait for the postman and the telephone.
Lost in a world of my own, I thought I could run alone,
Thought I could run through the night alone.
In his room, Zelgadis stood and stared out the window. The stars sparkled in the night sky, and the crescent moon glowed like a chalice. His foul mood had less to do with his own failures to find a cure, and more with the disturbing thoughts he'd been having lately.
The longer he travelled with this crew, the harder and harder it became to leave them. He'd never admit it, not even under torture, but he'd come to care for them. Yet their constant bickering and wild risks were disturbing.
Another of Zelgadis's secrets was that his carefully maintained mask of cool calculation was just that, a mask. A thin one at that. And the longer he stayed around Lina and company, the thinner that mask became. How long could he last? He wanted a cure with all his heart, and yet..... he had to keep himself from letting his guard down. He had to keep himself from forgetting that this happy little world of adventuring was not reality, and that if he ever let himself forget that, he'd be as vulnerable as he'd been before. If he didn't care, then he couldn't be hurt. Hurt as he'd been when Zolf and Rodimus died. Hurt as he'd been when he'd been chased out of his home village. Hurt as he'd been when his own mother had turned from him in horror, denying that he was her son. Never again, Zel promised himself. The torture of being a chimera was secondary to the torture of the fact that Rezo had left his basic personality intact. His quest for strength had been in order to bring approval and praise from his family. And he'd damned himself for that very cause, only to bring worse than disdain upon himself.
Sighing, Zelgadis turned from the window to stare at the bed. Sleep. He needed sleep. And yet, he dreaded the dreams that came at night. He reached into a pocket of his cloak for the small box of herbs kept there. Compressed into pills, they ensured that he didn't thrash or even move at night, no matter what. They didn't inhibit his alertness, but they kept him from waking screaming at the nightmares. Zelgadis kept his secrets well hidden. Not Lina, not anyone, knew about the nightmares. And it would remain that way.
Hand over fist, paper around the stone,
Scissors cut the paper, cut the paper to the bone.
Hand over fist, paper around the stone
Scissors cut the paper and the rock must stand alone.
The next morning saw the others feasting again on breakfast. Silent as ever, Zelgadis sipped his coffee from the shadows of his hood. He watched as they fought over the last sausage, permitting himself just the tiniest smile at their antics. But even a year ago, he wouldn't have allowed himself that. How far would he slip? he wondered. Could he even hope that somewhere in this world, he could be accepted? That someday, maybe, if he failed in finding a cure, he could simply live normally? No. Not ever. Remember, he told himself. Remember he screams, the torches, the look of disgust in your own mother's eyes. Remember his father drawing aim with the bow. Sinking deeper into depression, he waited for the rest to finish.
Lina stood and stretched. "That's what I like -- a good meal to start the day. C'mon guys! Let's get moving." She noticed Zel still sitting. Recalling the flare up from last night, she touched his shoulder. "Zel?"
He looked up to meet her eyes. He saw nothing of the horror and fear he'd come to expect from people there, only friendliness.
"Ready to go?" she asked.
He nodded and stood. He glanced at the others, noting Gourry's goofy smile and Amelia's beaming face. Maybe, someday?
Hand over hand doesn't seem so much
Hand over hand is the strength of the common touch.
CONTINUED!!!!
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