(Author’s note: This is my first Slayers story.
I got the idea for this one after watching SlayersNEXT and it wouldn’t leave me
be. Despite my best efforts and a little over three
weeks of looking, I was unable to find a beta for this one. I’ve gone through
the fic with a fine tooth comb but, as close to the material as I am, I no doubt missed something or other. If any of you
catch something I missed, please e-mail me so I can edit. Thanks and enjoy the
fic.)
DICLAIMER: Slayers and
related articles are property of
A Slayers Fan Fiction by albapuella
"Guilt upon the conscience,
like rust upon iron, both defiles and consumes it, gnawing and creeping into
it, as that does which at last eats out the very heart and substance of the
metal."
--
She couldn’t look any of them in the eye.
That was why she was sitting outside the inn, sitting out
in the cold darkness with no one for company beyond the silent stars. All
right, so it wasn’t really that cold, the darkness was staved off by a lantern
hanging beside the back door of the inn, and she’d come out here to be alone
but it did sound more dramatic the other way. Then again, it wasn’t as though
her life needed any more drama added to it - she’d have for seven lifetimes
now! - and she’d just about had her fill of the stuff
anyway.
The last thing she needed to be doing was to create any
more for herself. Unfortunately, the reason she was
out here in the first place wasn’t just a case of self-made dramatics: she
couldn’t look any of them in the eye. It wasn’t shame that kept her gaze from
her friends’ faces but guilt. And fear. She was afraid of what she might, no,
would definitely see there if she could bring herself to look.
The accusations in their eyes. That they knew they’d been betrayed. After all, they had to know as well as she
did that she hadn’t saved them. Sure, they were alive and she could argue that
she’d had a hand in that outcome - and it would be true - but that didn’t
change the fact that their lives being saved had been almost incidental. No,
she was going to be brutally honest here: their lives being saved had been
completely incidental.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t cared about what had happened
to them and she was so very thankful that they’d come out of all this intact
but, when it came right down to it, she hadn’t done anything to save them. She
was only glad, more glad than they could ever know
that she hadn’t had to watch them all die twice. And she would have done just
that had Hellmaster started the real killing with someone other than Gourry.
After all, she hadn’t done anything to save them the
first time they’d died, had she? Then, she hadn’t known that they weren’t truly
dead - how could she have known? - and, even though
she’d felt her heart shatter like Hellmaster’s marbles as he crushed them, she
still hadn’t done more than scream their names when they fell.
The fact of the matter had been, despite her pain and her
grief at losing her friends (as well as Zangulus and
It had been unthinkable.
But, when Hellmaster had started cracking the crystal
around Gourry, something in her had snapped. She didn’t know why - at least,
she wasn’t prepared to be quite that honest just now - but she couldn’t
bear the thought that Gourry would die. He needed to live: without him, nothing
mattered.
When she’d finally cast her spell, only one thing had mattered: saving Gourry. As long as she managed to save him, she hadn’t cared
what else might happen. The world could be sucked into nothingness and her
along with it as long as there was a chance - a chance! - that
Gourry might survive.
She couldn’t really remember much of anything that had
happened after she’d lost control of the spell although, she had the feeling
that something important had happened. Something very
important that she should know. Something that could
change everything.
But she couldn’t remember whatever it was. As far as she
was concerned, the time line went a bit like this: Lost control of the Giga
Slave; Something; Opening her eyes and finding herself in a very tight embrace.
She felt her cheeks go a bit red at the memory. Even though she had been
certain to reestablish the status quo, she couldn’t deny that, for the few
seconds before she’d realized how inappropriate the whole thing was, it had
been wonderful. Him and her alive. Together.
And how glad, how relieved, had she been when she’d seen
that her friends were alive too? Martina and Zangulus had no been among them
but, as terrible as their deaths had been at the hands of Hellmaster - as cruel
and as senseless -, she hadn’t been too fond of either of them and their
absence didn’t do much to dim her happiness over the fact that Amelia, Sylphiel
and Zel were still alive. The last time she’d seen them, they’d been encased in
crystal. The last time she’d seen them move and heard them speak was when she’d
watched them die.
Had she been the crying sort, she would have been in
tears. However, she most definitely wasn’t the crying sort and that was
something she prided herself on. Leave the crying to the damsels who can’t
handle the world as it is! Leave the crying to those who could afford to cry.
Of course, had she cried then, they would have been happy
tears but her point was still valid.
The guilt hadn’t come until a bit later, after the “I
can’t believe we got out of that alive!” euphoria had worn off. Generally, she
wasn’t one to feel too guilty about anything. Then again, she was in the habit
of killing bandits so there wasn’t really much that she had to feel guilty
about. And sure, maybe she’d leveled her share of villages from time to time
but that had always been while she’d been preforming a service. Honestly, some
people just didn’t understand - if you want a dragon slain, you need to be
prepared to break more than a few eggs!
But there was no doubt in her mind that it was guilt she
was feeling and the reason for it wasn’t hard to understand. She’d watched them
die and had done nothing. She’d let them die. Because she
hadn’t been able to justify risking the world for their sakes. Which would be a solid, guilt free line of reasoning if it weren’t
for the fact that, when Gourry’s turn came, she’d been more than willing to let
the world burn to save him.
“Are you done moping, Lina?”
She jerked around at the unexpected voice to see
Zelgadiss leaning against the closed back door of the inn. “Zel?”
His arms were crossed and his expression was half hidden
in shadow. “Well? Are you? Because even Gourry’s starting to worry and, if he’d
worried then you know it’s a bad sign,” he stated, sounding annoyed.
Lina turned away from him. Zel was right about Gourry:
when he started to worry about something, it usually was a bad sign.
However, she’d come out here to be alone and she did now appreciate being
accused of moping when she wasn’t doing anything of the sort. “I’m not moping,
I’m thinking.”
“Really? Because,
from where I’m standing, it looks like your feeling sorry for yourself.”
Anger flared up in her. Here she was, worrying herself
sick about her part in her friends’ deaths, about his death, and he was
accusing her of having a pity party? Like he was one to talk about pity
parties! “You’d know a lot about that, wouldn’t you, Zel?” she snapped nastily.
It was a low blow and she would have regretted it if not for the fact that he’d
asked for it, being such a jerk.
A stunned pause. “That was low,
Lina.”
“I know.” She ran a hand through her hair, her anger
subsiding as quickly as it had appeared. Unless she wanted to say something
else she’d regret later, she had to get him to leave. The
sooner the better. “Look, I’m not really in the mood to talk, okay?”
When there was no answer, she allowed herself a sigh. “Just leave me alone.”
Since she didn’t hear a door being opened, she knew that
he was just standing there. Should have known that it
wouldn’t be so easy. After a long moment of silence, he spoke, sounding
gruff. “So, if you’re not feeling sorry for yourself, why are you out
here?”
Gods, what did a girl have to do to get some peace and
quiet around here! If Zelgadiss hadn’t been made of stone, she might have tried
a more physical means to get him out of her hair (although, why he was even in
her hair to begin with would have been an interesting question on its own had
she been in the mood to think about it) rather than just verbal commands.
However, as he was made of stone and if she did try to hit him, she’d only end
up hurting herself, she resigned herself to dealing with him until he decided
to leave on his own. “I told you already. I’m thinking.”
“About what?”
It was tempting to tell him to jump in a lake but she
decided not to. There were two reasons for this: 1) it was noteworthy that Zel
was even having this conversation with her in the first place - he wasn’t one
to ask probing personal questions - and 2) it was the least she could do after
letting him die. “Guilt.”
A startled chuckle came from her companion. “Guilt? You? Since when do you feel guilt?”
It was a measure of how drained she felt about the whole
thing that she didn’t rise to the bait and defend her character. “Since today.”
Another pause. “. . . What do
you have to feel guilty about?” If she didn’t known better, she could have
sworn that he actually sounded confused. But that was ridiculous. He should
know what this was about. He had to know. She wasn’t sure what he was doing,
playing dumb, but he had to be pulling her leg.
“Are you just going to ignore me?”
Despite herself, she turned back to see if he was being
serious. It certainly looked like he was. “What do you mean ‘What do I have to
feel guilty about’!” Her hands formed light fists and she willed herself to
remain calm. “You ought to know that.”
He stepped away from the door and uncrossed his arms. “Maybe I ought to but I don’t so why not save us both some time and just
explain it to me?”
Her fingernails bit into her palms. “Why are you doing
this, Zel?” At his taken aback expression, she grit her teeth. “Don’t you think I feel bad enough?”
His mouth was working and he was no doubt coming up with
some new lie to say but she was tired of playing this game. She didn’t know why
he was pretending not to know what she knew he knew and she found that she no
longer cared. If the jerk wanted to hear it from her mouth, well, that was
a-okay with her!
“Fine! You want to know what I’m
feeling guilty about? I’m feeling guilty because I let
you all die! I didn’t raise a finger to help any of you! Is that what
you wanted to hear? That I didn’t do anything to save you? That I didn’t -“ she broke off as she realized that she was standing,
jabbing her finger at Zelgadiss and speaking much louder than was probably
wise.
Falling to her knees, she covered her face with her
hands. “I save Gourry but I didn’t save you. Any of you.”
There was another long pause. “I’ll admit that dying
wasn’t much fun,” Zel began, sounding as though he was trying to make a joke
before his tone became more somber, “and having Amelia die in my arms was one
of the worst things that has ever happened to me but . . . it wasn’t your
fault, Lina.”
She lowered her hands and set them down onto her thighs. “But I didn’t do anything to stop it.” She kept her eyes to the ground, not
wanting to look at his face. To see the lie there despite what he’d said. “I .
. .” What else was there to say? “I’m sorry.”
A hand settled lightly, awkwardly, onto her shoulder. “You shouldn’t say that.”
She looked up, startled. “Huh?”
He was smiling a wry smile. “More to the point, you
shouldn’t be feeling guilty at all.”
Frowning, she demanded that he explain what he meant by
that.
He pulled his hand away and took a seat next to her. His
face was turned upwards and he seemed to be looking at the stars. When he
didn’t speak, her frown deepened and she looked up as well. What was he looking
at so intently?
“Did I ask you to cast the Giga Slave?”
Thrown by the non-sequitur and the sudden break in the
silence, it took her a moment to find an answer. “Well, no.”
“How about Sylphiel?”
What was he trying to get at now? “No.”
“Zangulus?
She shook her head.
“
“No, but I suppose that you’ll get around to telling me
sooner or later,” she said, beginning to feel annoyed. She never liked being
treated like she was stupid and if anyone was being stupid here,
it was Zelgadiss with his stupid guessing games.
His slight smile told her that he was enjoying her
irritation. Yes, if anyone was being stupid, it was him. And, once he was
finished with whatever he was saying, she was going to give him a fireball he’s never forget. Stone or not, a fireball to the face
would be enough to remove that little smirk!
It proved to be unnecessary as the smirk faded of its own
accord. “It’s a lot to ask from someone,” he said softly. “To risk the world
for your sake, even if you’re friends.” He looked away again, something
indescribable flashing in his eyes. “A true friend wouldn’t ask you to make that
choice.”
She didn’t know what to say so she said nothing. It was
probably for the best because she didn’t think she could speak even if she did have something to say. Part of it was just plain shock that Zel, the heartless,
mystical swordsman himself, was talking like this so seriously, like he meant
it. He’d actually claimed friendship. That was a big step for Zel and she knew
that she’d appreciate it once she got over her shock.
And, strange as it was hearing all this from him, he was
actually making some sense. For the first time since it had started, she felt
some of her guilt slip away. It wasn’t completely gone and maybe it would never
be but she did feel a little better now. Maybe she wouldn’t fireball him after
all.
“As for Gourry,” he continued after a moment, standing
and brushing off his pants as he did so, “I would think that it’d be a great
responsibility to know that you’re worth the world to someone.”
She hadn’t thought about it that way. To
be worth the world to someone. Would she want to have someone be willing
to trade the world for her sake? Would she want to be responsible for that?
Then she remembered that they were talking about the Jellyfish. “If he even
remembers,” she quipped with a small but genuine smile.
Zel shook his head but his tone was light. “I would hope
that even Gourry wouldn’t forget something this important.”
Lina stood, feeling most of the guilt slough off her
narrow but perfectly proportionate shoulders like a grubby overcoat. She felt
almost like herself again. And it was wonderful. “You haven’t traveled with him
as long as I have.” Putting her hands on her hips, she sighed in mock sadness.
“That yogurt brain thought that Copy Rezzo looked vaguely familiar - I
have no trouble believing that he could forget about all this too.”
That earned another half smile from Zelgadiss. Then he
nodded towards the door. “Are you going to come in? They won’t be happy with me
if I come back alone.”
Bringing her gaze up to the stars, she pretended to
consider it. While it was tempting to leave him to his fate for being such a
jerk earlier, she decided to be merciful. She supposed that she owed him
something for helping her out of that funk. Besides, she thought she could do
with something to eat. And maybe some company. She brought her gaze back down
and grinned. “All right, I surrender. Lead the way.”
Once they were back inside, he led her to the table she’d
left earlier. Seeing her friends there, their eyes filled with relief that she
was back among them, she felt grateful that she wasn’t the crying sort. It
would completely ruin her image if she broke down in tears.
Even if they would have been happy
ones.
THE END