Dilandau makes a deal with the Grim Reaper as he lies dying, but what he agrees to do turnsout to be a little more difficult than he thought.
Pages of Memory
Disclaimer: Don't own so please don't sue
Dilandau makes a deal with the Grim Reaper as he lies dying, but what he agrees to do turns-out to be a little more difficult than he thought.
Warnings- Supernatural-ish stuff, AU-ish
ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: I'm not very good with describing people so please excuse any poor descriptions.
The figure was robed and the face was shadowed. Allen and Van each had an idea of who this being was, but neither dared utter a sound in fear of gaining his attention. The figure, sensing their fear, shifted slightly to turn his back to them, then in a bizarre action changed. Its entire image rippled and began to move. The black robes were replaced with a simple white shirt and a pair of brown pants. The figure had shrunk and his hair was messy and unkempt; sliver streaks nestled within black hair. Stunned by the unexpected change, Van and Allen were unprepared for the voice that sounded from the small frame.
"I apologize... I did not intend for you two to be brought here as well." The voice was small, and child-like, but held ages of wisdom; too old for the body it had come from. "I shall have to send you back...You are not yet ready to meet me properly. Now away...Back to where you belong..." There was more confusion as the small child waved his hand and they were back on the battlefield, no Dilandau between them.
"What happened...Van was that who..."
"Allen I'm not sure...but whoever it was had a great deal of power, either that or this battle took more out of us than we thought." They looked around at the crowd and deduced that the audience must have seen them vanish and reappear. Most stood in shock with their mouths hanging open. Looking over to the Alseides, Allen became curious and peeked inside. There wasn't much. A sword was wedged into a small open space off to the side and Allen reached for it. Glancing out to see what Van was doing he made a grab for the weapon, but his fingers found something else instead. Pulling the book from the puddle of blood it rested in he quickly set it aside to gather anything else that might be of interest.
After a few minutes of digging he was left with a couple of things that puzzled him. Among the personal belongings of Dilandau were a couple of photos, his sword, and a blood-soaked journal that wasn't very old. Looking around Allen located Van at the feet of his guymelf. It wasn't hard to find him since the crowd had left, all having something better to do than gawk at what had happened to them and their would-be prisoner. More likely a higher up came by and they scattered to avoid reprimand. Allen shoved the few pictures into the journal, grabbed Dilandau's standard, Zaibach issue sword and went to Van.
"Here Van...You deserve to have this..."Allen said in a quite voice holding the sword out for Van to take.
"I...I," Van was unsure whether he wanted to take Dilandau's Sword or not. He reached out and took the offered sword and unsheathed it, baring its blade. Van half expected it to be rusted with blood, but the blade was clean. Van's fingers traced the hilt and the flat of the blade, feeling the engravings on it. Neither Van nor Allen had seen the words when he first pulled it out, the engraving was done by a professional and made the overall value worth more. This sword wasn't just the standard issue one. It was custom fitted for one person. A closer look at the wording on the hilt and blade made that very clear. The kind of detail that had to be added before the sword was completed. "Was this all that you found?"
"No...there were other things, but I'd rather not discuss them out here on the battlefield. Perhaps we should join the others back on the Crusades and talk about them there." Allen's suggestion had merit and seemed to be a good idea so the two went to discuss what else Allen had found in the broken Alseides. What ever else he had found he didn't want others to know about it.
Dilandau couldn't remember much, he had a vague recollection of a green light and then after that there wasn't anything. As Dilandau "floated," he guessed anyway, in the nothingness that surrounded him he heard someone calling to him. As the voice grew so did his other senses. A door faded into view and a then the door opened to reveal a dark room. With nothing better to do he went into the darkness.
Once he passed the threshold the doors shut and a seemed to lock closed somehow. Once the sound of a thick deadbolt sliding into place evaporated from his hearing a bright green light appeared, blinding him for a few moments. When he looked around the room again it was gone. It was replaced with a scene of him and his slayers. The still of the scene alone brought up feelings he never wanted to face again. He knew what was about to happen. As he thought about the memory the scene began to play out. Shesta was trying to apologize for something he had done wrong, at least in Dilandau's eyes. Even though the blond knew it was coming he still flinched and almost moved to block the slap delivered by Dilandau.
Dilandau was a little off balance when he felt the strike as if he had been the one to receive it. A few more scenes of him punishing his soldiers and he figured out what was going on. He was feeling all the pain he had inflicted upon his slayers. /Is this my punishment to feel everything that I did to my slayers? Everything I did, I did to make them stronger. If they.../The thought was lost as the scene of Astoria's harbor. He watched his other self bathe the docks in the crimson and yellow fire with his flamethrower and then the pain began. He was reduced to a huddled form on the floor, his arms wrapped around himself, sweat running down his face, neck, and back socking his cloths. The burning sensation went on for a long time in his mind. He didn't know if it would ever stop or whether the pain would lessen. The smell of ash and burnt flesh was all he could smell and he could no longer see, because he had clenched his eyes shut and had yet to open them.
When he did finally open his eyes, the pain and smells were gone. He checked hisskin and not a single hair had been singed. He attempted to slow his breathing to a slower rate but to no avail. Any chance or progress he had was washed away as he saw Faneila in front of him. This time was different. I started out the same as Astoria, but he could feel his slayers and himself. The attack on Fanaila had caused so much pain, to the citizens of the small country and to his slayers. It had been hell for them to follow him into that massacre. He could feel what little of their innocents they had left die. That was when he had truly become that monster, their monster.
Is this my hell? I deserve every agonizing moment of it, I know...but is their still a chance to be with my slayers again...I don't want to be alone again...I've already endured life without my slayers, is my death to suffer the same way. I'd do anything to be able to apologize to them and tell them how much they meant to me...
"That can be arranged."
If Dilandau had been alive at that moment he would have been scared to death. Not knowing where the voice had come from he quickly looked about the room. In the darkness he could see nothing. Then the sound of a door unlocking was all the warning he had to shield his eyes from the onslaught of bright light that filled the darkened space.
"Who are..." He had to pause to get his voice to come down a notch or three. His voice still sounding too high than it normally should have beenashe continued his inquiry. "Who are you?" Dilandau knew who he expected, but was surprised when a small boy no older that eight stepped thru the doorway. The plain shirt and brown pants were common as were his slightly tan skin. His eyes and hair were a different matter. It hung, flat down his neck and was long enough to almost completely cover his ears. The hair was black, mostly. He had silver highlights or streaks more like it and silver eyebrows to match. He couldn't figure out what color eyes he had, the color kept shifting from one color to the next. Finally they settled on a color, the same as his.
"I believe you know the answer to that Dilandau...How about asking me another question, one you don't already know the answer to?" Despite outward appearances, this was no child, and Dilandau was not as calm as he appeared. At the other being's invite Dilandau did ask another question.
"What can be arranged?"
"Your wish of course...And your statement was inaccurate, this isn't a hell, it was a test; well more of an entrance exam to judge your capabilities. I see you wish to ask another question...go on, ask as many as you like" Gesturing to Dilandau to continue, the silver and black haired boy sat on the ground and pulled a knee up to rest his chin on.
"Am I dead?"
"Now that's a little more complicated to answer, your body is no longer among the living, but your soul still lives on. More or less your soul is still connected to something or someone that is among the living."
"Is that the simplest way you can put it?"
"The Fates feel you are still useful so they had you brought to me..."
"Oh," responded Dilandau, plopping down next to his only companion. "So what capabilities were you talking about?"
"It is very rare for a body to die and the soul not follow it into the afterlife. But when it does happen the soul is given special abilities and with them they are assigned a task to help with some task the Fates feel must happen for their planes to go smoothly. One of your abilities is empathy. You can sense, and to an extent control, peoples emotions..."
"Why does this have anything to do with me?"
"Because Dilandau...You complete your task and you will get to be with your slayers happily ever after and all."
"I'll do it then."
"Don't you want to even hear what you have to do or think about it a while?"
"Why, I said I would do anything and I meant it!"
"But Dilandau...you fail in this task and not only will your soul be destroyed, but theirs as well," Dilandau face, if at all possible, became even more pale.
"But why them to?"
"Quite simply that they are your reason for being here and they are your motivation for completing your task"
"What do I have to do? I don't care what it is...I'll do anything!"
End Chapter Two
AN: Definitely one of my more intense pieces. Tell me what you think. Read and Review PLEASE I'm an author on my knees begging you to review I don't care what it says Just please tell me what you think.