Sorcerer Stabber Orphen Fan Fiction ❯ Velvet Flames ❯ Promises ( Chapter 11 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

:: Velvet Flames ::

Sorcerous Stabber Orphen

Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerous Stabber Orphen or any of the characters mentioned.

Rating: PG

Pairings: Krylancelo(Orphen)+Azari, Hartia+Krylancelo, Childman+Azari/Azari+Childman, eventual Krylancelo/Majic

Warnings: AU, possible shounen ai, language

Notes: Look! A longer chapter! ^^;; This went about half a page over the norm, sort of to make up for the last chapter...

I had to completely get rid of chapter 11, since it was dragging the fic down. So the real action will be starting chapter 12 rather than 13. ^^

Thank you to everyone who reviewed thus far!! You guys keep me motivated! ^^ Thanks!




It had been quite a tiring two weeks! Never had Krylancelo imagined emotions could run so high.

It had started normally enough, simply with Azari and him wandering about, hoping to find something of interest. It had taken eight days until they had come across the special island, eight days for them to find that one item that had caught Azari's interest so frighteningly quickly.

"The Sword of Baltanders," he murmured to himself, staring at an old roll of parchment Azari had asked him to take care of. She had found it on the way back and, believing it to have some sort of link to the sword, had requested of him to hold onto it until she needed it.

Krylancelo remembered the half-crazed, hungry look in her eyes when she had seen what the sword had done to a rat. It had made it bigger, better, stronger, more beautiful . . . Her expression had frightened him, but soon after leaving she had returned almost to normal. Only almost because the things she had said for the remainder of their trip disturbed him.

"I'll show Childman-sensei," he had heard her mutter on occasion. "I'll show him . . . "

'But I wonder when she and Sensei got into a fight, anyway?' he mused. He hadn't noticed any tension between them prior to this trip . . .

A soft knock startled him out of his thoughts. Slightly annoyed, he called, "You can come in if you want, Hartia."

Said boy stepped in only moments later, eyes darting around nervously. "Welcome back, Krylancelo," he said. "Have fun?"

"Yeah," he responded slowly, concerned about his friend's odd behavior. "What's wrong?"

Hartia blinked, golden eyes betraying his confusion. "Pardon?"

"You're acting funny. What's up?"

'Trust Krylancelo to be blunt,' the red-haired boy thought dryly. He had resolved several times in the past couple of weeks to inform Krylancelo of his feelings, whether they were returned or not, when he got back. And how here he was and he had forgotten everything he was going to say!

Better to start slow, so as to gather his bearings, then. "I... I have something important to tell you."

Sienna-coloured eyes flickered as Krylancelo's eyebrows drew together in a small frown of perplexion. When Hartia said nothing for a few long moments, he prompted, "That thing you were going to tell me before I left?"

The entire thing was even being set up for him! So why was he so nervous? Suddenly, Hartia was TOO frightened of how easy it was. It couldn't be done like this. It just couldn't. So he blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"Flameheart hit Majic."

Krylancelo's reaction was more than he'd expected. First there was a sharp inhalation of breath and the smaller teen stood completely rigid, arms at his sides. Mahogany eyes contracted briefly before returning to normal. "What?"

Hartia groaned inwardly. That had been beyond stupid. When he kept silent, Krylancelo swung forward and grabbed his friend by the arms tightly. "He hit him? Why? I know he's a brat, but he HIT him? HOW did he hit him?! Why??"

'I think I'm jealous,' Hartia thought in faint amusement. He sighed heavily. He'd wanted to inform Krylancelo of this, but certainly not like this, and CERTAINLY not today! "Shortly after you left, I found Majic in the training grounds," he explained quickly, hoping for Krylancelo to ease his grip the sooner he finished. "Flameheart came out of nowhere and said he wanted to speak with him."

"And?"

He shrugged uncomfortably. "And . . . I followed them. I hid, but I could hear Flameheart telling him off for hugging you."

Krylancelo appeared baffled. "For . . . Hugging me?" he repeated incredulously.

"Yeah. Then Flameheart basically said it wouldn't look good for one of his students to associate with 'lowlifes'--" Krylancelo's eyes narrowed dangerously; he hated being insulted more than anything else, no matter how stupid the insult-- "and Majic said that Childman-sensei's students were better anyway. So Flameheart slapped him, pretty hard."

Now Krylancelo looked torn between impressed and furious. "He talked back to him? He SLAPPED him? That bastard!" he fumed all in one breath, finally releasing Hartia. "He won't get away with THAT, the son of a--"

"Krylancelo!"

The brown-haired teen bared his teeth in a grimace. "He won't," he swore, shoving his friend aside and storming out. "I'll make sure of THAT."

Hartia watched him leave, unsure whether this was a good or bad thing. On one hand, it proved that Krylancelo didn't hate Majic completely, which would make the boy feel better. On the other, it would stir a lot of commotion within the Tower were Krylancelo to bring the situation to light . . .

Clearly, Krylancelo didn't care about either situation. He tore his way down the halls, ignoring the people he ran into, ignoring the questions they asked. If Majic would just confirm Hartia's story, people wouldn't have a choice BUT to listen to them. At least, that's what he believed.

'Goddamn it that brat's ALWAYS around when I don't want him to be,' he thought irritably. 'And then when I do he-- Argh!'

He was ready to give up in sheer frustration when a flash of gold caught his eye. He whirled and, sure enough, there was Majic. He was alone. Good. For a brief moment Krylancelo wondered if he even HAD any friends in Flameheart's group, if at all, but he brushed that thought aside as he strode over to him. This was far more important.

"Majic," he said in a surprisingly firm voice, making the boy start. "We need to talk, now," he continued, advancing further.

Majic paled and scrambled back, taking Krylancelo by surprise. He hesitated in his advancement. Majic backed straight into a wall, looking half terrified.

"W-welcome back, Krylancelo-sama," he said weakly.

Krylancelo tried to relax and soften his voice, so as not to frighten the boy further. "Majic, can we talk? I need to ask you something important." Mutely, the blonde boy nodded, though he was still apprehensive. "Good," he sighed. "I just have one simple question I want you to answer, okay? That day I left, did Flameheart hit you?"

Majic looked panicked. His small hands tugged at the dark robes just above the waistline. "I... I don't remember," he mumbled, obviously lying. The simple lie set Krylancelo off.

"Damnit, Majic!" he exploded, slamming his fist into the wall just beside the boy's head. A small yelp escaped Majic's mouth as he leaned close, sienna eyes narrowed to slits. "Don't fucking lie to me," he said tightly, threatening to start yelling any moment. "Did he hit you or not? Has he done this before? Why haven't you TOLD anyone? WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!"

The smaller child promptly burst into frightened tears. "I-It was only once!" he cried. He tried to gasp for air between sobs, causing him to hiccup. "It was j-just once, and it was my fault, I shouldn't have s-said that, I r-really . . . "

Krylancelo groaned inwardly. He hadn't meant to make him cry, honestly, but he tended to lose his temper when people didn't give him a straight answer. Guilt threatened to overwhelm him as the blonde boy's knees gave out and he crumpled to the floor, sobbing. Slowly, Krylancelo lowered himself to kneel in front of him, sighing softly.

"Don't do that," he pleaded softly. "I'm sorry," he added when the sobs didn't subside right away. "I just wanted to make sure it was true . . . If he's doing that sort of stuff we can't let him get away with it, right? I just-- Hey!" he cried in surprise. Majic was now clinging to him, still crying rather loudly. Well, he was touching him willingly, so it looked like he wasn't crying because of him anymore. Sighing and grimacing slightly, Krylancelo awkwardly patted him on the head, vaguely surprised at how soft the boy's hair was.

"It'll be fine," he murmured. "We'll tell Childman-sensei and he'll take care of it. If not, I will myself."

He froze momentarily, hit with a sudden vision that seemed like a memory, yet it clearly wasn't.

"It's all right," a voice very much like his own, yet deeper, whispered. "I'll take care of this, Mychio. Stop crying, now, it'll be fine . . . Tears don't suit you." A strange smile curved his lips. "See, that's better--"

He jerked himself back to reality, fine tremors shaking his body. What was that? What had THAT been? Mychio . . . Why did that sound so familiar?

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you, Krylancelo."

Both boys started. The older one blushed furiously, scrambling to his feet and turning to face Azari. "H-hi, Azari."

She glanced past him at Majic, who quickly looked away as though her stare would turn him to stone like the mythical seductress Medusa. "Is he okay?" she asked with mild concern.

This time it was Majic that scrambled to stand. "Thank you, Krylancelo-sama," he stammered, giving Azari a fleeting glance before he ran in the opposite direction, bewildering Krylancelo. What the hell had THAT been about?

"Krylancelo, I need to talk to you later," she said calmly, her beautiful eyes glittering with anticipation. "About the sword . . . Can we meet in my room, say, after dinner?"

"Of course," he said eagerly, all nervousness diminishing.

She smiled again, this time a more mysterious smile. "Well then," she murmured. "I'll see you tonight." And with that she turned and simply walked off, dark robes billowing out behind her in a way that sent shivers down Krylancelo's spine. Only bad was going to come from this secret meeting, but he honestly couldn't say how or what kind of bad. He just knew it would be . . . How else would she frighten him so much just by looking at him?