Walking Delusions

a/n: *tears in eyes* The response to this last chapter was far greater than I expected. So many people stopped to leave comments. I'm so happy!

Thanks to everyone! Especially new readers and old. Thanks to celtic dewin, MistressSubmission (You're very welcome, m'dear.), ruleroftravels, and Ailsam (I'm sorry to say there won't be a sequel, though there is a large possibility that I will be putting out sidefics. I'm in the process of working on one now.).

I do hope you all love this chapter!

Chapter Nineteen: Imperfect Dirge

My sorrowful song undenied,
As one last step falls behind.
My tears remain locked inside,
Her heart beneath the surface.
On the outskirts, death at my call,
Apologies forever unsaid, love unforgiven,
Complaints of violins rot in my head,
Unbelieved power failing.

“It's been five hours! The sun's long past the mid-mark!” Ivory shouted at Melath as she paced back and forth across our meager campsite. She had long given up on fondling her axe, restlessness driving her to her feet.

Melath's stare was entirely even. “He was quite angry.”

Green eyes weren't convinced in the slightest. It surprised me that she even cared that much. “It is Ryou,” she countered. “Even at his most furious, he was only gone for an hour at best.” Her hand shot out, pointing to his abandoned rod. “He left his staff behind, Melath. Even Ryou would know not to be gone for long.”

She had a point. I was worried as well. Shame was making me even more nervous and I longed to be out, finding Ryou and apologizing. I had never meant to hurt him. I had already vowed that I wouldn't touch Melath and Vincent again. The consequences were more than I was willing to risk anyways. Besides, I needed to concentrate on getting home, not getting my rocks off here in Tears.

The world that was mine. The thought still baffled me. Ixion was being noticeably silent, not even a mocking chuckle trickled through my mind.

“What do you suggest then?” Vincent asked, not even looking up from where he was steadily picking at a block of wood with his dagger. I didn't know he could whittle but the wolf taking shape beneath his fingers was clearly skilled.

Ivory pursed her lips. “Look for him,” she insisted. “All of us. And if he's fine then I'll kick his ass myself. But I'm tired of sitting here and waiting.”

Melath was contemplative. I didn't bother to add in my opinion even if I was in agreement with Ivory. I would never admit to concurring with her, not even on my death bed.

Finally, Melath sighed and grabbed his sword, belting it at his waist. “Very well. We will look for him. He headed to the North, I believe.”

The triumphant look on Ivory's face was overshadowed by her relief. She was fooling no one, especially since it was she to grab Ryou's abandoned pack and weapon. She slung the bag over her shoulder, when she carried no packs before, and kept the staff in her hands without argument. I had expected to be the one forced to carry them.

Vincent prepared to leave with no hurried movements, not that I expected them. We were already pretty ready as it was. It only took a few moments for the three of us to gather everything and be on our way, Vincent leading us. He appeared to be following Ryou's tracks, pausing to kneel and check the ground before continuing on the way.

Conversation was nonexistent, which I was glad for. Ivory kept shooting me hateful glares and I was receiving the cold shoulder from Vincent. Melath was being neutral, one hand on the hilt of his sword as he kept an eye out for danger. I trailed somewhere at the end of the pack, nervously gripping the straps of my pack.

We were in Hruby territory after all.

We followed Ryou's footprints out of the forest and away from the stream, straight into the wide open, rolling plains. They dipped and rose in steadying rows of hills, creating depressions that were easily beneath our sight. I was not looking forward to this hike, despite my worry for Ryou.

The plains were vast and empty, not even an animal in sight. Overhead, the occasional bird flew, cawing and singing its own song and form of communication. A few insects buzzed around but left us alone. It was still and calm, tranquil perhaps. It hid its horrors well.

Despite Vincent's tracking skills, Ivory was the one to find him, somehow stumbling on his trail like some female, blond bloodhound. She caught a glimpse of his brown robes amidst brown waving grasses and was off in a flash, leaping and running through the plains as if she had miraculously turned into an antelope.

“Ryou!” she was yelling, staff thumping the ground as she skidded down a steep slope on her feet, kicking up dust and digging furrows into the ground.

There was no response.

A sick feeling curdled in my belly and I began to fear the worst. I didn't want to believe it, but a part of me was still rational and logical. It was that part that had decided two hours ago that Ryou wasn't coming back. I had been steadily ignoring that side of myself, choosing to believe in my new and only friend. It seemed easier to do so at the time.

The three of us behind moved to follow Ivory, Vincent and Melath first as I trailed them. We, too, skidded down the slope, heading towards the bottom where Ivory was already kneeling. Even before we reached the dip in the land, I saw the blood. How could I not? It was everywhere, staining everything in bright crimson.

I gagged, turning away as we set feet on solid ground, and tried to keep down my breakfast. Tear stained my eyes before I gained control of myself, only halfway listening to the sounds of their voices.

Ryou had... Ryou had been killed. No, slaughtered was the more appropriate word. Not mauled or mangled as if by some great beast, but slashed and stabbed. It was ten times worse than the village.

I forced myself to turn and look, tears prickling at the backs of my eyes and wetting my cheeks both. Thankfully, Ivory had already closed his eyes but it didn't do anything to hide the horror. These Hruby... they were nothing but savages. Animals. I felt an urge to slaughter every one of them in return. I wished that a meteor would come down and destroy them. I saw blood in my vision, and it wasn't just Ryou's.

I dropped down next to his body, my hand reaching out to touch his cheek. It was cool, but not cold, probably due to the heat of the afternoon. The blood was still somewhat damp, not entirely dry yet. He had been breathing not too long ago. He looked so peaceful in his death though I know he must have suffered terribly.

And there had been nothing but anger between us at parting.

“It is your world.”

I blinked, fingers still pressed to Ryou's cheek. Ivory's glare was boring into the back of my head. I knew Melath and Vincent were watching impassively. They were investigating.

“Whatever you want, whatever you ask, you will have.”

My breath caught in my throat. Was it possible? Had Nename been telling the truth? It was so hard to digest, that I could control the will of this world. That simply by wanting I could make it happen.

“With just one word...”

I had nothing to lose by giving it a try.

Biting back the sobs that threatened to choke me, I closed my eyes. 'I have this power, then I can restore him,' I thought.

I wanted Ryou to live. I wanted to see hear his laughter again and I wanted to apologize for treating him badly. He deserved so much more than what he had been given. He was the only one to be kind to me. He did not deserve what these Hruby had done to him. I wanted him to live.

I tried; I tried so damn hard. I prayed. I said magic words. I closed my eyes and I concentrated until my fingers shook and my stomach clenched. I thought of his wounds closing, of his breath returning. I thought of turning back time and reversing circumstance. I thought of taking back everything I had said and done.

Nothing happened.

He laid still and cold beneath my touch, the grass the color of burned blood beneath him. Every wound remained in stark clarity, his face barely recognizable. I felt despair crawl into me, felt sorrow seep its way into my heart. There was nothing I could do. Nename had been wrong.

In Tears, I was still nothing. There was no truth in my dreams, in my delusions. Nothing but illusions and reverie. I was no more god of this world than Vincent was my predestined “one true love”.

I withdrew my hand, blood staining my fingers, and folded both in my lap, head bowed in my uselessness. It was then that I allowed a few tears to escape, my grief too much to bear. Ryou was gone and I still couldn't accept it. I felt as if I was walking in a dream even now, that I had simply imagined horror.

I would wake up tomorrow and Ryou would smile at me and say 'good morning, Miss
Anne. Did you sleep well?' I would smile and and answer him honestly. It would be nice. It would be peaceful. It would be right. The way things should be. Not this... this travesty of reality.

“It was the Hruby,” Melath said quietly, confirming what I had already suspected. “They guard their lands viciously.”

I jerked my head up, eyes red-rimmed and face puffy. “What kind of threat does one man present?” I demanded, horrified that my voice cracked. “What purpose is there in this brutality?”

Shaking, my gaze fell back down. I was mixed with anger and sadness, and Melath had shattered my illusion. I knew this wasn't a dream, or at least, not a dream within a dream. But I wanted to believe it so badly. I wanted the vision of his slashed body to leave my mind, to forget the stark color of blood against innocent grass.

“Does it matter?” Ivory snarled, throwing Ryou's staff and pack to the ground in her angry. “His death is on your hands!” She pointed at me, not that I was surprised.

“I didn't kill him,” I argued, though a part of me knew that she was right. “I wouldn't.”

She sniffed, though even I could see that her body was trembling slightly. Out of anger or sadness, I didn't know. “You might as well have. It is because of you that he left in the first place.”

“Maybe so,” I agreed, ignore the tremble in my voice as it betrayed my emotions. “But that's my burden to bear. Not yours to point out.”

Her green eyes widened, hands flexing at her sides as if she was resisting the urge to strangle me or something similar. My stare remained impassive, just waiting for her to make the first strike.

“Bitch,” she hissed, fingers clenched to tightly that I expected blood to bead between them. “We should kill you here and now, finish where the others left off and failed.”

Melath's lips thinned. “Enough, Ivory. There is no use in blaming her.”

Her eyes flickered his direction. “There is plenty use. She could die for it, absolve herself of her blame. You could stand to care a little, Melath. I don't give a shit how fucking cold your heart is.”

“I may not shed tears but Ryou was a friend,” Melath countered, easily standing his ground. The both of them ignored Vincent and I, as if we didn't matter. And perhaps we didn't. “He would not want to see blood shed over his passing.”

Something cruel lit Ivory's expression. “Perhaps not her blood then, but yours,” she suggested, taking a threatening step towards him and finally gathering Vincent's previously bored attention. “After all, the fault should belong to you as well.”

“I fail to see the connection.” He crossed his arms over his chest, unperturbed by her very obvious threat.

Vincent moved nearer, his hand on his sword as if waiting for Ivory to make the mistake of attacking Melath. It was a subtle movement, one wouldn't hardly notice it. But I had been making every effort to watch the interaction between the two. Their relationship confused the hell out of me.

She stalked closer, getting right in his face. “If you had kept your dick in your pants or his ass where it belongs than none of this would have happened,” she hissed, my eyes widening in shock at the audacity of her words.

Melath remained unperturbed. “Your regrets have no bearing on blame, Ivory. You should have spoken your heart sooner.”

She recoiled as if struck, her entire face paling visibly. “You would say anything to redirect me,” Ivory spat, though her voice shook. “I have no heart.”

Turning on her heels, Ivory stalked away, but not fleeing as Ryou had earlier, but simply putting some space between them and her. She only climbed to the top of the hill, staring off into the distance but within sight. We had all learned our lesson on wandering around by our lonesome. It wasn't smart to do so here. We were better off keeping to our groups.

A moment of stunned and uncomfortable silent descended before Melath sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “There is nothing to be done but bury him,” he announced, clearly speaking to Vincent and I. “We have no tools for digging.”

“We are still near the stream,” Vincent suggested, coming to stand beside him. “There are plenty stones within it.”

“A cairn then?”

Vincent nodded. “It is the best we can do.”

Crystalline eyes softened slightly as Melath inhaled softly. “It is unfortunately not as much as he deserved. None of it was.”

It was perhaps the first time I had witnessed such from the two. Perhaps they had forgotten I was there, or maybe they were aware and were attempting to make a point. I couldn't be sure. Now wasn't the time to question.

We gathered the necessary stones in silence but as a group. Ivory carried twice as much as the rest of us, sparing none of us a look. Melath and Vincent drew together, nearly joined at the hip. I stayed on the outskirts, never feeling more the outcast than in that moment.

It took us the rest of the day and most of the night to gather enough stones to properly cover Ryou's body. By the time we finished, he was sufficiently covered. We put his valuables inside the cairn with him, a strange emblem clasped between his fingers. I didn't recognize it at first, until I realized the shape was the same as what had been tattooed on my neck for interpretation purposes. It was a remnant of his service to the temple of Babel.

We said our goodbyes by the light of a full moon. None of us spoke, our farewells given in utter silence and inside voices. I didn't have anything to offer Ryou. I had always avoided funerals as a rule because they reminded me of my own mortality. But I had managed to find a few hardy wildflowers growing within the plains.

I didn't pick them. Instead, I replanted them next to his cairn. They were simple and beautiful, one a fiery red, the other a blossoming orange. A third resembled Indian Paintbrush, one of my favorites. I watched Ivory pour some type of clear alcohol over the stones, dampening them. Melath made some sort of motion with his hands, probably something elfin. Vincent remained stoic.

We were solemn and silent. The cooking supplies and other duties that had been Ryou's were given to Vincent without discussion. It would be his duty from now on. I suspected that before Ryou appeared, it had been Vincent's duty to begin with.

When no one was looking, I claimed Ryou's herb pouch. The scent of it reminded me of him. Besides, I doubted any of those warriors would know what to do with it. Or even recognize the plants within. I kept the small pouch tucked in my bra, close to my heart.

No one spoke over his grave; we didn't speak again of fault. But I knew where Ivory's blame rested. It was obvious in her glares.

And then, afterwards, we moved on, leaving Ryou behind. Ivory took his staff. I was too frozen to bother contesting her. We stayed the night out on the plains, camping in the dark and surrounded by the concavity of the hills. But when morning came, we were continuing our journey. No discussion was made as to our destination. It was assumed that we would still head to Nyorai.

I slept very little. I spent most of the night tossing and turning, dreaming of many things but mostly of Ryou. I had never apologized to him. I hadn't gone after him. I had turned him down. He must have died with so much sorrow on his heart, with so much anger. He must have thought himself the most unloved man in the world.

That hurt, more than I cared to admit.

I wished with all my being that I could take back what happened that night and the following morning. I wanted everything to be all right again. But of course, wishes didn't come true with just hoping.

It was a sober crew that crossed the plains, thankfully not encountering the Hruby. We stayed out of their reach or they avoided us, one or the other. It took us three days to cross the breadth of the plains. Vincent turned out to be a passable cook but I was stuck with pan duty. I didn't complain.

I had never felt so alone than in the three days following Ryou's death. For the most part, I was ignored. Or glared at. I followed the other three, far too afraid of the Hruby to even consider abandoning them and leaving on my own. I was a coward at heart.

I wanted to believe that with that all we had witnessed in the past five days meant we would get a respite. The gods took this belief and laughed at it, mocking me from on high. They spat on my hope, ground it into dirt, and set it aflame for good measure, scattering the ashes to the four winds.

The next town, Rocean, one of the largest cities in Neuma and home to the Grand Temple of Babel, was supposed to be a brief stopping point for us. A time to restock and rest, to plan our next path before we finally made our way to Nyorai. It was supposed to be a bastion of strength and defense. It was supposed to be safe.

It was another pile of broken buildings and bloodied streets. My only consolation was that it hadn't been the fault of the Hruby. No, the destruction was too orderly, too clean, too well-planned. It was somewhat systematic, as if an army had swept through, neatly destroying each building one by one.

The Grand Temple of Babel. I expected to find Constance here. I didn't know what I had planned but I wanted to confront him. I wanted to get Ixion's Jewel back and I wanted to be rid of the parasite within my body. Ixion wanted his freedom. I was ready to grant it to him, even if he was supposed to be some great destroyer.

I was beginning to think that this side of the country was doomed. Tears was a world slowly destroying itself.

This time, we didn't spread out to investigate. Instead we stayed in a clump, wandering through the empty streets of Rocean. It was so strange. The buildings were collapsed in place, bodies didn't litter the ground; it was a very arranged destruction. It was eerie, the silence grating on my nerves.

It wasn't long before we reached the temple, the largest structure in the entire city. It was a massive building, twisted spires reaching towards the sky, a huge dome resembling the Taj Mahal. The rock used to create it had to be imported from a far distance since I hadn't seen anything matching it nearby. It appeared to be quartz.

But it wasn't the building that gathered my attention. No. It was what sat in front of the temple, artfully arranged on display. Whoever had done this to Rocean knew someone would come along at some point, and relatively soon, and had prepared a show. At least I had found Constance.

The three of us gaped in shock, myself more than the others. I felt the urge to vomit again, but after all that I had seen in the past week, I was growing dead to it. Numb almost. I couldn't only look with a vague sort of apathy.

Constance and his monks had been dragged from their temple and killed, then left in the street in front of the building. Most of his fellows looked as if they had merely been bludgeoned and left where they fell. But Constance himself had been carefully arranged, hanging by his wrists from a chain attached to a huge pole staked into the ground.

The sound of sniffling gathered our attention before I had even finished perusing Constance. I was trying to decide how I felt about his death, if it made me feel better knowing that the man who had tortured me was no longer alive. I was a bit pissed that I couldn't do it myself. Not to mention that Ixion's Jewel was still missing.

We followed the pathetic sound and found a man kneeling on the ground, face buried in his hands. Dirt and blood both stained his robes as he shivered and sniffled.

“What happened?” Melath demanded.

The man looked up, and I flinched, backpedaling. His face had been gouged as if he had scraped it with his own fingernails. The scratches were cracked and bleeding, some crusting over. Some crawling with maggots, living off the festers. His eyes were open and seeing, but swirled with madness.

“Death,” he cackled through lips that hadn't seen water in days. “Death and destruction.”

Ivory pursed her lips. “Obviously. Who did it?”

His eyes, like pools of obsidian, rolled into the back of his head as he sniffled, wiping at the tear tracks on his face. “That man,” he rasped. “That man, that man, that man!”

Melath and Vincent exchanged glances and Vincent nodded, turning and heading away. I didn't know what they had spoken but it was mere seconds before Vincent blended into shadow and darkness, disappearing. I had ceased being surprised about his ability to do that.

Convinced the monk was insane and wouldn't be of any use, I steeled myself and approached Constance's body. I ignored his gaping mouth and wide eyes, blood shot and staring. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to check his pockets. If the temple had been thieved, then the jewel was likely taken but I had to be sure. It was then that I noticed.

I took stock of Constance's wounds, mentally tallying each one. A pinky finger was missing. There were cuts on his legs and arms. Finger marks on his throat. A knife was jabbed into his chest, right above his solar plexus. Blood caked the front of the robe, staining it a dried crimson.

I gasped, taking a step back, one hand rising automatically to my chest. It was the same place that he had stabbed me. All those wounds... they mirrored the ones Constance had given me, as if someone had killed him just for my revenge. But who else knew of my injuries other than Tucker, Constance, the mercenaries and myself? Which reminded me...

I turned and glanced around the bodies visible. Tucker wasn't among them. His was a face I could never forget.

“They took it. That man... took it! I saw it!”

My head whipped around, centered around the crazed monk. He was insane, but a part of him that remained lucid, struggling to tell us the truth. Melath had grabbed the man, shoving his head towards the ground and pinning his arms behind his back. Judging by the fresh marks on his face, it was to keep him from scratching at his own flesh even more.

“Took what?” I asked, inserting myself into their discussion. “Who took what?”

“The man's mad,” Ivory said with a snort, fingering her axe. “We'd be better off putting him out of his misery than listening to him.”

I shot her a glare and ignored her suggestion, crouching to get a better look at the monk. I softened my tone, trying to appear kind and gentle. “Was it the jewel?” I asked, knowing that the others would be shocked but pretending not to care. I needed to know. “Did 'that man' take the jewel? Sapphire yet glowing scarlet?”

He looked at me, eyes nearly drowning me in their black depths. “Yes,” he whispered, sounding strangely coherent. “Yes. That beast's. Ixion's jewel. His curse. Not the power the High Archbishop sought, but that beast's curse. That man betrayed us.”

My heart was beating loudly in my chest. I felt as if I were that much closer to the truth. “Betrayed?” I repeated, cocking my head to the side. I needed an identity, a name.

“Are you actually listening to him?” Ivory demanded, her voice incredulous.

“Shut up!” I snapped, slashing a hand through the air. “You want me out of your way? Well, dammit, I'm trying. But unless I get this gem, I can't. So shut the fuck up.”

She blinked. And for the first time went silent. If she were frightened or stunned by my outburst, I couldn't tell. But her silence was well-appreciated. I turned my attention back to the man who had started to cower.

My voice went kind again. “Will you please tell me?”

He chewed on his lip, turning his flesh bloody before he spoke again. “That man,” he whispered in a broken tone. “The boy god. He wanted the jewel. We got it for him. And then, he wanted us no longer. No longer. No more use.” He choked, a rattling cough gurgling from his lips as his fingers twitched. “Useless. The lot of us.”

“The boy god?”

Melath shifted position, face frowning in thought. “It is one of the names they have given Dainichi. They claim he knows things, things that he could not possibly know. I hear he is little more than a child.”

“Yes!” the crazed monk inserted with a happy yip. “Dainichi! That man. Yes, that man. It was he took the jewel. He took Ixion's curse.”

That settled it. “I see,” I commented, mind swirling with this new information. I gave the crazed man my best smile. “Thank you,” I responded and rose to my feet, my gaze turning towards where I believed Nyorai to be.

Dainichi had the jewel. Dainichi was in Nyorai. Then Nyorai was where I needed to go. If I wanted to be free of this world and free of Ixion, that was the only choice left to me. One man had already died for my sake. I wasn't going to lose another, even if they were less important to me.

“No one else lives,” Vincent announced, suddenly appearing out of the darkness. “The city has been both abandoned and destroyed. The attack was quite thorough.”

“As I suspected.” Melath's frown lines deepened. “These circumstances are proving to be beyond our scope.”

They had no idea just how much. I didn't want to enlighten them either. I had to get my hands on Ixion's jewel. Even if I had to leave them behind. In fact, it would probably be better if I did. Safer for them at any rate.

I didn't know where this sudden bravery had come from. Why I suddenly felt as if it was possible for me to make it on my own. It was as if after seeing all the monstrosity, something within me had hardened. Blood was simply red liquid. Bodies were merely plastic dolls. Destroyed houses were only miniature toys stepped on by the neighborhood bullies. I didn't need reality.

My hand rose to my chest, touching Ryou's pouch through my robes. “I'm going to Nyorai,” I announced, cutting into their conversation. “You don't have to come with me.”

There was a moment of silence where I felt three gazes burning into my back before someone finally spoke. It was Melath, as I suspected it would be.

“That jewel,” he mused aloud. “Constance took that jewel from you and now Dainichi has it. What is a gem worth to you?”

It was my way home. “Everything,” I muttered under my breath, hand dropping back down to my side. “That jewel has everything.”

Ivory snorted. “Let her go and die. It would be what she deserves.”

“You want to turn back?” Vincent asked, raising a brow. “It is not like you to avoid the prospect of a good battle. Dainichi seems capable of offering that and more.”

She thumbed her axe. “Slaughter without purpose is no fun at all. What challenge is a few villages and a corrupt temple?”

Since they seemed to fine arguing without my presence, I began walking away. They didn't need my input to decide where to go next. They could follow me, they could turn back, I didn't care. I had to put an end to this dream, reality, illusion, whatever it was I was suffering. I was tired of it all.

The sounds of their voices fell quieter and quieter as I picked my way through the town, heading in the vague direction of where I thought I needed to go. I knew the sun should be at my back and I needed to exit the city opposite of where we entered. Hopefully, from there, I could just follow the same stream as before.

Your sense of planning astounds me, Ixion commented blithely, his dark chuckle slithering into my mind.

I huffed, choosing to speak aloud since there was none around to hear me. “So good of you to join me again. Why do I get the pleasure of your visit?”

He sniffed. You're risking your life for an object whose meaning you do not fully understand. You've yet to listen to my story.

“You actually plan on revealing the truth?” I was somewhat skeptical. Ixion was a demon of some kind after all. Nor had he proven himself to be trustworthy. I was prepared to listen with only a minor sort of open mind.

Ixion snickered, though it was more malicious than humorous. I'm feeling rather gracious. As amusing as it is to watch you stumble around, I am just as ready to be gone from your body as you are to be free of me.

“Fine,” I agreed. “Then speak your peace. But don't expect me to believe you.”

I would not dream of it. I felt him shifting around inside my head, as if moving things around to get comfortable. Something slithered across the back of my brain before he began to explain. I was the greatest among my kind once, you know. Everyone feared me.

I snorted. “I don't doubt it. Get to the point.”

Humans. He sniffed, trying to sound both indignant and better than me. It didn't work so well since he was still stuck in my head. They make the best meal, did you know? Human blood is so fresh, so vital. It's because their lives are short.

My steps stopped before I realized what I was doing and I felt vaguely sick. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Haven't you realized it yet, Anne? What I am? Why you thirst? There was the distinct noise of him licking his lips, tongue smacking noisily over them with a definitive slurp. The greatest race on this measly world, the Anuran. Those are my kind. None can compare.

The Anuran. The same that Maya and Tai supposedly whispered. The same that everyone feared. That was why Vincent had given me the seals that mirrored his. Because he recognized Ixion in some way. Because he too, was part of that tribe. It began to make sense, realizations striking me one after another.

Ixion chuckled at my self-revelations and continued without my prompting. I was the greatest among the great. It was their jealousy that sealed my fate. His humor abruptly turned to hatred, his sneer gleaming at the back of my mind. They banished me and locked my strength in that worthless gem. I'll never forgive them for that.

“Who?”

My own kind. Traitorous bastards. That old witch even cursed me. He growled in aggravation, his voice taking on a high note that was obviously meant to depict his mimicking someone else. 'Learn compassion,' she said. 'See through the eyes of your victims.' My beautiful blood eyes were taken from me.

I rolled my eyes. “My heart bleeds for you,” I responded sarcastically, finally deciding to continue walking.

Ixion sounded more like a teenager complaining about his parents giving him a curfew than as if he had actually been done wrong. I doubted they would seal him away for no reason. And I knew from personal experience that he was particularly cruel and vicious.

“All I need to know is how to be rid of you. Your past doesn't matter,” I added, feeling particularly vindictive.

He shuffled around, making himself comfortable and idly digging his claws into my upper spine. The pain was purely psychological but I winced anyways. Get my jewel. That's all I need.

“Fair enough. Point me in the right direction.”

Northwest, he responded with a bored sigh. Three days journey across the plains. Don't worry about the Hruby.

I had never heard such sweeter words.

It wouldn't be long before I could get home. I stepped up my pace, trying to leave the destroyed Rocean as soon as possible. Thankfully, Ixion went silent.

Ah, peace.

*****

a/n: Getting closer and closer to the end. Questions are answered, only to be replaced with more. I do hope you liked this chapter. Though it is sad, it happens to be one of my favorites.

I look forward to your comments!