Slayers: The Way
A Slayers Fanfiction

by mrthou

Chronological Notes:  Takes place after Chapter 1.  For more
information, see Chapter 1.

Disclaimer:

      I didn't create Slayers, nor do I own any of it's characters.
Fanfiction is a marginally legal activity which I choose to participate
in anyway. If the owners or creators of Slayers tell me to stop writing
this, I will.

Book 1: Earth
Chapter 2
==========

      It is said that when Ceiphied shattered the Ruby-Eyed Lord into
seven pieces, he was exhausted, and fell back into the sea of chaos.
But before he was completely consumed, he sent four lords to guide his
children, the Ryuzoku, and to protect the world should any of the pieces
of Shabranigdu ever reawaken.

      It's a very pretty legend, and one that is believed by most to be
true.  There are a very few who know differently.

      In fact, Ceiphied did not send four pieces of himself to protect
the world.  He sent five.

      The first four Dragon Kings found affinity with the elements, one
for Fire, one for Water, one for Earth, and one for Air.  The fifth was
left with nothing.

      He took up light, saying, "Surely, this is an element worthy of my
greatness."

      But the Fire-Dragon king denied him, saying, "Does not fire give
off light, and heat also?  These are my elements, and you may not have
them."  And the fifth Dragon King fled.

      "So the fifth Dragon King looked, and found electricity.  And he
took it up, saying, "Surely, this is an element worthy of my greatness,
and one unclaimed by others."

      But the Air-Dragon King, ever jealous of his own power, said, "Do
not the storms produce lightning?  This is my element, and you may not
have it."  And the fifth Dragon King fled.

      So again the fifth Dragon King looked and found mana, the energies
of growth and green things.  And he took it up, saying, "Surely, this is
an element worthy of my greatness, for indeed, what could be a more
fitting task for a God than to bring forth life?"

      But the Earth-Dragon King was displeased, saying "Do not the green
things of the world grow from the ground.  Does not the Earth yield it's
bounty to all other beings?  Leave, for this is my element, and you may
not have it."  And the fifth Dragon King fled.

      In despair, the Dragon King turned to his final brother, the Dragon
King of Water, asking, "Brother, have you seen an element for me?  Or
have you one to spare?"

      And the Water-Dragon King, being ever wise and generous, said,
"See, at night, in the sky, is a light which none have claimed.  It is
our foothold in the darkness, and it is unclaimed.  So go, claim the
element of the Moon, and be our stronghold against the darkness."

      And the fifth Dragon God was pleased, and took up the unclaimed
element, and became the Moon-Dragon King.

----------

      Lina and Sylphiel stared at Gourry, scarcely believing their ears.
"Gourry?!" they exclaimed as one.

      "That was a cool story, Gourry-san." Cyan said.  "What happened
next?"

      "Gourry, how could you remember all of that?" Lina cried.  "You
never remember anything I tell you about the Dragons or Mazoku!"  She
waved her arms around for emphasis.  "I thought you didn't even know who
Shabranigdu was!"

      "Yeah, but Lina, your stories are boring," Gourry said.  "That was
my favorite bed-time story when I was a kid."

      "Gourry-san, what happened next?" the little boy asked again.

      "Not now, kid," Lina said.  "Look, if that's the case, then why
didn't you know who the Ruby-Eyed Lord was when we fought him?"

      "Ruby-Eye?  Who's that?  You mean that big red-eyed thing you blew
up with that really big Black spell that Sylphiel doesn't like?"

      "Yes!" Lina shouted.  "That thing!  The same one as in your story.
The one that Ceiphied broke into seven pieces."

      Comprehension slowly donned on Gourry's face, as a few concepts
associated themselves with each other.  "You mean, they're the same?"

      Lina was really feeling irritated now.  "Of course they're the
same, Jellyfish-for-brains!  What the hell did you think?!"

      "Lina, don't swear in front of the child," Sylphiel admonished
gently.  "But you do have a point.  What did you think, Gourry?"

      "Um, I thought it was just a story, and the things in it just
happened to have the same names."

      "Just happened to have the same names?!" Lina said, still shouting.
"How many Shabranigdu's and Ceiphied's can there be?"

      "Gee, I don't know," Gourry said innocently.  "I mean, there were
three Lina's in the village where I was born, and one was my sister, and
none of them were you."

      Lina suddenly realized that she didn't have a good answer to that,
or at least, not one that would make sense to Gourry.  "Alright, fine.
Why don't you tell a few more stories, and I'll tell you if the
characters are real or not, okay?"

      "I didn't know you liked stories, Lina!" Gourry said cheerfully.
"You should have told me a long time ago.  I've got hundreds!"

      "Gourry-san," Cyan whined, "Finish your story, pleeeeeaaase?"

      "Sure thing!  That okay with you, Lina?"

      "Yeah, yeah, sure, sure, fine, fine, whatever."  Lina mumbled.
"Maybe if he can figure this out I won't have to waste so much time
trying to pound this stuff into his head."

      "Okay, then.  Um, let's see..."

----------

      Now the Moon, as all know, is a strange creature.  Not only does
she move across the sky as the sun does, but also, she changes her faces
constantly, hiding herself for a few days a month, and showing herself
completely only for a few days each month.

      And as the face of the moon waxed and waned, so too did the power
of the Moon-Dragon King.

      At first, the Moon-Dragon King was content.  His element, for a few
short days, ruled the night.  Its light could drive away the darkness,
and bring hope to the creatures of the daytime.  But then his power
would slip, and the world would plunge toward three nights of darkness,
and True Night would fall.

      But Lunar, for that is what the Moon-Dragon King had named himself,
noticed that there were creatures who had strength during the long hours
of darkness.  And he said to himself, "See, here is another element for
me to rule.  If I can claim the darkness, then I will own two elements,
like each of my brothers, and I shall be able to bring hope to the
creatures of daytime, even when the moon hides her face."

      Now Lunar was a child-like God, and full of youthful enthusiasm.
Seeing this unknown power at work, he called his brothers, and told them
of what he had discovered.  But they rebuked him, saying, "This power is
not of our father, Ceiphied.  We are not strong enough to touch this
power, for it will consume us."

      But the Moon-Dragon King was also very proud, and did not believe
his brothers.  He thought to himself, "Each of them has claimed two
elements, and they have given me only one.  "Fire and Light, Wind and
Lightning, Earth and Growth, Water and Cold.  Where is my second
element?  Is not darkness the natural companion of the moon?"

      So he observed the creatures of the night, and studied how they
drew their power.  But try though he might, he could not see the methods
they used, for the dark power was invisible to him.  And then, after
many years of watching, he found the answer, and gained complete
dominion over the night.

----------

      "Hey, Lina, are we just going to stand here all day?" Gourry asked.
"I thought we were going to see your friend."

      Lina shook her head in amazement.  "And here I thought you had a
memory like a sieve.  Okay, let's go."

      "So what was the answer?" Cyan asked.

      "Hmm... the answer?" Gourry said.  "I don't know.  Grandma never
said."

      "Well, then what happened next?"

----------

      Now it came to pass that the Mazoku once again grew in number, and
threatened the Children of the Light, and the middle races also.  And
the Dragon Kings grew worried, for though the Dark Lord slept still, his
children could resurrect him.

      But Lunar said to his brothers, "Fear not, for the darkness of
night is mine as well.  I shall set my children to watching our enemies,
for even in the blackest of nights, when the moon hides her face and the
stars are dimmed by clouds, they can see clearly."

      And the brothers agreed, but the eldest and wisest of them, the
Water-Dragon King, was concerned, for he knew that none could walk in
the darkness without being tainted.  But he kept his own counsel, and
told no one.  And when his fifth brother fell from grace, he was not
surprised.

----------

      "That's it?" Cyan sounded disappointed.  "But what happened to
Lunar?  How did he fall?"

      "Um... I don't know.  Grandma never told me," Gourry said.

      "But that's not fair," the boy whined.  "I wanna hear the rest of
the story!"

      "Life ain't fair, kid," Lina said.  "Why don't you go talk to
Sylphiel.  I've got something to discuss with yogurt-brains here."

      "But..."  Lina's glare silenced further complaints.  Cyan dropped
back next to Sylphiel to sulk.

      "So, Gourry, where'd you learn all that?"  It sounded almost like
an accusation, but Gourry ignored the tone completely.

      "Oh, you liked it?" Gourry asked cheerfully.  "My grandma taught
me.  She wanted me to be the next village storyteller.  I told her I
wanted to be a swordsman, but she said I could be both."

      "So, how much do you know?"  A vein on Lina's head started
twitching.  That wasn't usually a good sign.

      "Um, every story of the True Faith, is what Grandma said."

      "Every Story!?"  Now the eye was twitching, and her hands were
clenched into fists.  Very bad, Gourry thought.

      "Uh huh.  Lessee... Um... Kouma War, Creation of Universe, Elves
Exile, um... The Fifth Dragon-King, Fall of the..."  Before he could
finish, Lina punched him.

      "Why the hell didn't you tell me any of this?!" she screamed.

      "You never asked," Gourry pointed out, rubbing his cheek.

      "Lina-san, you really shouldn't..."  A glare from Lina silenced
Sylphiel.

      "I don't get it," Gourry said.  "So what if I know a bunch of
stories?"

      Lina turned to him.  "Do you know how many hours I've wasted,
trying to explain these things to you?  And you already knew them!  Why
didn't you say so?"

      "I didn't know they were the same thing," Gourry said.  "Besides,
Lina, I can't help it if your stories are so boring I can't stay awake."

      Lina hit him again.  Then, for good measure, she swept his legs out
from under him.  "Idiot."  Lina stalked off, up the path.

      Sylphiel helped him to his feet.  "Gourry-sama, why do you let her
treat you like that?"

      "Oh, it's not so bad.  Sometimes I even deserve it," Gourry said.
He was a bit puzzled this time.  "I don't know what happened this time,
though.  I don't think I made any comments about her chest size..."  He
paused for a moment.  "Hey, she didn't even tell me if it was true or
not.  I've always kind of wondered about that."

      Sylphiel seemed not to know how to respond to that.

      "Gourry-san," Cyan said, tugging on his shirt, "Gourry-san.  Can
you tell me another story?"

      "Sure thing, kid."

----------

      Lina Inverse had a headache.

      This was not because of 'that time of the month', nor because of
the revelation of Gourry's storytelling acumen -- although that's what
she would have blamed, if she admitted to having a headache at all.  At
the moment there was no one in the immediate vicinity to admit it to, as
her friends were some twenty yards or so behind her, and she didn't feel
like waiting for them just so she could complain.

      The source of Lina's headache was simple, although only Gourry was
likely to have noticed the cause, and not at all likely to connect the
cause to the effect.  She hadn't been sleeping well, mainly because of
her dreams.

      The dreams smelled strongly of tampering.  She couldn't really find
another explanation for the excruciating detail and consistency in each.
Sure, Lina had a creative imagination, but her subconscious was seldom
logical enough to be consistent.

      The only other possible explanation for her disturbingly similar
dreams was that she was becoming a prophet.

      Ceiphied, she hoped not.

      Pushing aside the prophecy theory as too disturbing, she was left
with an obvious question.  Who or what was playing games with her mind?
And why?

      This wasn't her first experience with dream-tampering.  It had
happened to her on one other adventure, courtesy of Raudy Gabriev.  Come
to think of it, he must have been an ancestor of Gourry's.  Raudy had
been a great sorcerer, one of the most powerful humans she had ever
encountered.  But even he had not been able to control her dreams once
she had decided to take control herself.  This time, she hadn't had any
luck.

      So, the cause of her dreams was probably not human.  That left
Ryuzoku, Mazoku, various types of elemental spirits, an elf, or a human
with support from any one of those.  The shadowy figure had revealed
himself as Gaav, which was preposterous.  Gaav was dead, killed by
Phibrezo and presumable absorbed by the Hell-master.  Perhaps one of his
underlings?  Unlikely, Lina thought.  She had destroyed his General and
Priest herself, and no other underling would have enough power.

      Xelloss?  A definite possibility, but why?  Of course, if Xelloss
were behind it all, it wasn't likely he'd tell her.

      Dream-Gaav had made another claim, more interesting, and not
altogether impossible.  The imitator had said that he was her father.
Lina had no memory of her father, and her sister had always claimed that
both their parents were dead.  Perhaps she was hiding something, or
mistaken.

      Well, no use worrying about it.  Her mentor would help her to sort
it all out.

      Lina sighed, then turned around and called back to her companions.
"Come on, guys!  If we hurry, we can be there in time for dinner!"

----------

      A good distance away there was a valley.  Carved out long ago by
whatever forces shaped the land, it was merely a long, shallow
depression, a bowl-like indentation at the edge of a forest.

      In the center of the valley, there was a tower.

      It wasn't much of a tower.  It did not soar, nor did it sparkle in
the sunlight.  It did not impose or intimidate.  It did not reach for
the heavens.  In fact, if a phrase had to be picked to describe the
tower, it would be that the tower squatted, or maybe that the tower was
vaguely stump-like.  About the kindest thing that could be said about it
was that it achieved both its purposes, which were to get people a
hundred feet off the ground, and to provide living space for a sole
resident.

      Said resident never left the tower.  This was not because he had no
desire to do so, but rather because he lacked the ability.  He was an
odd old man, so old that he usually couldn't even remember exactly how
old he was.  He was short, a bit on the chubby side, and had a very long
beard he was particularly fond of.  Despite his age, his hair remained
jet-black, and his teeth were a strange yellowish color from several
hundred years of smoking.  He was also a very powerful wizard.

      All of this would be irrelevant, were it not for the fact that Lina
Inverse and her diverse party were scheduled to arrive in a few hours.

      Said resident was aware of their coming, and was in fact busily
preparing for it.  Had there been anyone around to observe, they would
have seen several bright flashes of light near the top of the tower,
followed by a rather large cloud of orange smoke.  A simple doorway
appeared  in the side of the tower, then vanished a few seconds later.
The observer would then have been treated to a long and impressive
string of profanities in eight different languages, two of which were no
longer spoken.

      After a few hours, the smoke ceased, the swearing stopped, and all
was once again peaceful in the valley.  The odd inhabitant of the stump-
like tower was left to wonder just exactly when Lina Inverse would
arrive, and to hope that the answer was sometime soon.

----------

      They stood at the base of the tower, and stared up into the dark
evening sky.  The sky was expansive, it was beautiful.  The tower was
not.  They tried to put what they were seeing into words.  The adults
failed.  The child did not.

      "It looks like a big tree stump," Cyan said.

      "Cyan-chan!" Sylphiel exclaimed, "It's not polite to say such
things about another person's home."

      "But it does!"

      Lina chuckled.  "Don't worry about it, Sylphiel.  The owner won't
mind."  She laughed again.  "I told him exactly the same thing the first
time I met him.  He just laughed in my face, and told me that it looked
like a petrified tree stump because it is a petrified tree stump."

      "So how do we get in?" Sylphiel asked.  "We've walked around this
place twice, and haven't seen a door anyplace."

      "The door's wherever he makes it," Lina replied.  "We just have to
let him know we're here."

      "Hey, Lina, what's that?"  Gourry pointed to something about a
third of the way up the squat structure, a slight protrusion that didn't
quite look natural.  It was impossible to see it clearly in the light of
the crescent moon.

      "Let's find out."  Lina pulled a small concave mirror attached to a
short stick out of her waist pouch.  Gourry noted that, as usual, the
objects she pulled from that pouch were always too large to actually fit
into it.  The only requirement seemed to be that the object fit through
the mouth.

      "What's that?" Cyan asked.

      "Watch."  Lina silently cast a lighting spell and set it on a small
glass bead that was suspended in front of the mirror.  The ball of light
contracted, and infused the small sphere of melted glass with a
brilliant luminance.  The bead radiated its light in all directions, but
much of the light reflected off the mirror, and created a focused beam.

      "Wow, that's really cool!" Cyan exclaimed.  "Can I try it?"

      Lina shrugged.  "Sure, why not?  Shine it at that thing Gourry was
pointing at."

      The boy waved the magical torch around a few times, then pointed
the beam up the tower.  The assembled stared at the protrusion.
Disconcertingly, the protrusion stared right back.  Gourry thought it
looked rather a lot like a human head.  He said so.

      "That's because it is a head," the head called down.  It wasn't
really a very pretty head.  It had black hair and a long, flowing beard.
The eyes were beady, the nose was pointy and angled slightly to one
side, as if it had been broken.  There were dark circles around the
eyes.  "My head, to be precise. You seem to be a bit late, Lina Inverse.
I was expecting you hours ago."

      "Hey Gramps, let us in!  We're starving out here!" Lina called
back.

      "Yes, and ice crystals are starting to form on my nose hairs, and I
thing I'm developing a bit of a head cold," the head shouted grumpily.
"If you want in, just open the door."

      Everyone looked around.  "What door?" Lina asked.

      "What do you mean, what door?" The disembodied head said.  "The one
right in front of your eyes."

      "There is no door."

      "There isn't?" the head queried.

      "Nope."

      The head took a few moments to engage in some rather sulphurous
swearing.  Sylphiel blushed and covered Cyan's ears.  Then a door
appeared in the side of the tower.  A moment later, the head
disappeared.  The door opened, and yellow torchlight poured out.

      "Well, it looks like we've been invited inside," Lina said.  She
suddenly got a very hungry look on her face.  "Is that chicken I smell?"

      Gourry sniffed.  "Smells more like pheasant to me."

      "You could be right, at that."

      Lina ran through the doorway.  A moment later, Cyan followed, and
then Sylphiel.  Gourry took a last look around.  It was another quiet
night, like that one several days ago, when they found the boy.  Not a
sound.  Such a thing was unnatural, and usually a sign of very bad
things.  But then a gentle breeze brought the aroma of freshly cooked
bird-flesh to Gourry's nostrils, and he realized that definitely was
pheasant, probably with rice stuffing and mashed potatoes.

      He hurried through the door.

----------

      If it was a great understatement to say that the exterior of the
tower was completely underwhelming, it was an equally gross
understatement to say that the interior was just the opposite.

      If Gourry had been a smarter man, he would have realized that the
dimensions of the room he currently stood in vastly exceeded the size of
the tower.  As it was, he subconscious merely registered the fact that
the room was really big.  His conscious, meanwhile, was busy registering
the fact that there was a table piled high with food, and that said
table was also really big.  He rushed to the table, where his companions
were already partaking of the feast, and started to partake quite a bit
himself.

      Gourry's subconscious continued to catalog information about his
surroundings.  What use this served is a bit of a mystery, as very
little of it would filter into his conscious thought, but ever since his
earliest childhood, he had been trained to pay attention to details.
And so pay attention his subconscious did.  And what it saw was quite
amazing indeed.

      The room was not, in fact, as large as it first appeared.  It was
still quite a bit larger than any room had a right to be in a tower of
this size, but not nearly as large as the impressive impression of
limitless space would indicate.  The walls were made of the same grayish
petrified wood that made up the outside of the tower, but cleverly
placed mirrors were spaced around in such a manner that they reflected
very little of the interior of the tower and quite a lot of nothing.

      Aside from the table, there was very little of interest in the
room.  There were a few bookcases scattered about the room, and an odd
chair or table here and there, but other than the room's abnormally
large size, there was nothing to suggest that this room was at all
magical.

      Cataloging the doors was giving Gourry a bit of a hard time.  The
reasons were threefold.  First, the mirrors kept playing tricks on his
eyes.  They made the room appear to go much farther than it actually
did, and in the process, made it difficult to focus on anything less
than the illusionary infinity they presented.  Secondly, the doors that
he had identified were all built from the same material as the hard-to-
identify walls.  And third, some of the doors seemed to be free
standing, leading to nowhere.

      He did note, however, that the door they had entered through had
gone the way of the roast pheasant he had smelled earlier, which is to
say that it had disappeared without a trace.  He did wonder why Lina had
eaten the bones as well, though.

      A good forty-five minutes of rather aggressive eating later, which
had ended rather spectacularly in a fork fight that lasted just over
five minutes and concluded with Lina chewing on the table instead of the
last chicken leg, the meal was more or less over, Gourry finally had a
chance to look around the rather remarkable room.  He could now see that
the room was perfectly round, and that there were quite a lot more doors
than he had originally thought.  What was particularly strange about the
doors was that they only had one side.  If you walked around to look at
the back, the door disappeared entirely.  Approaching one door from the
side, he stuck an arm through the back, and watched it materialize
through the front.  He tried to do it the other way, but found the door
itself to be quite solid.

      In addition to the one-sided doors, there were a number of
staircases that also seemed to lead to nowhere.  Most of them consisted
of four or five steps leading upward, and then they just stopped.  When
he tried to walk up one, he simply found himself walking down another
one, back into the same room.

After several minutes of playing with the doors, during which Lina and
Sylphiel spent chatting and Cyan spent falling asleep, their host
appeared.  Where he had been the entire time was a bit puzzling, and how
he had managed to prepare a seven-course meal with his head stuck in the
tower wall was a bit more so, but Gourry was fully prepared to write the
whole thing off as magic.  And given that he had just materialized in
front of their eyes, that guess was more than likely correct.

      He wasn't a very tall man.  In fact, he was barely taller than
Lina.  His beard was long and white, and now Gourry could clearly see
that it was as white as his hair was black.  The pointy nose looked
markedly less so in good light, and appeared not so much to have been
broken as to have grown that way.

      His build was difficult to ascertain, as he wore heavy brown robes
that hid his figure.  He appeared to be rather muscular, judging from
the muscles in his neck.  He was not visibly armed.

      "Welcome to my humble abode," he said after a moment.  "I am Doctor
Merrin Marco Tellar al Pralahad.  What brings you to here, Lina
Inverse?"

      "What, you mean you don't know?" Lina said, sounding a bit
surprised.

      "I am not a psychic, Lina, nor a prophet, at least not in the usual
sense," the wizard replied.  "and not a very good one, at that.  I know
not what brings you here, nor why you should choose to bring your
family.  Although I don't think I recognize the girl..."  Pralahad
trailed off.

      "Sensei, this isn't my family..." Lina said uncertainly.

      "That child isn't your son?" the doctor exclaimed, pointing at
Cyan.  "And the blonde man isn't your husband?"

      "What?" Lina and Sylphiel shrieked simultaneously.

      Gourry wasn't sure why this upset them so much.  He said as much.
"It's not that big a deal.  Remember last town we were at, Lina?  They
thought Sylphiel and I were married, and you were our daughter."

      "What?" Lina said again.  "They thought I was your *daughter*?"

      "Yeah.  Since you're so short and you don't have much of a chest
and you were throwing a tantrum at the time..."

      Lina kicked him rather hard at that point.  As usual, he wasn't
sure why, but he felt it a definite improvement over being fire-balled.
He collapsed to the floor.

      "But I could've sworn you married a tall, blonde man," the old
sorcerer continued.  "He's not your husband?"

      Lina said, "No."

      "And you don't have any children?"

      "No," she said again.

      "You're absolutely sure?"

      Lina nodded.

      Gourry groaned.  He managed to sit up.

      The old man pulled an abacus out of thin air and started flipping
beads around.  He looked up occasionally, and then went back to flipping
beads. "What year is it?" Pralahad asked finally.

      Lina told him.

      "Wrong year.  Damn!"  And with that, the old man vanished in a
pointless but rather impressive looking puff of smoke.

      "Lina-san, what was all that about, just now?" Sylphiel asked.
"Why was he asking you about..."

      Lina laughed, although to Gourry's ears it sounded a bit strained.
"Don't worry about it.  He does that from time to time.  He umm... skips
around in time a bit.  I don't really understand how it works, except
that sometimes he visits the future, and sometimes he visits the past."

      "But that means you and Gourry-sama..." Sylphiel was on the verge
of tears.  "You said that there was nothing between you two!  If that's
not true, why am I even here?"

      "W-w-wait, don't jump to conclusions, Sylphiel.  I mean, he visits
the future, sure, but it's not always our future."  Lina picked up her
fork, and held it parallel to the ground.  "It's like this.  Time flows
along," she ran a finger down the handle of the fork, "and then we make
decisions.  And depending which decisions we make, different things
happen."  She pointed at the prongs of the fork.  "Every time we make a
decision, it creates another possibility.  In one possibility, we take
the top branch.  In another, we take the middle.  In a third, we take
the bottom.  So there's an infinite number of possibilities.  When he
travels to the future, he doesn't necessarily travel to the same one
we're going to experience.  Get it?"

      "So you are saying that what he predicts is only one of may
different possibilities?"

      "Yeah, you understand now?"

      Sylphiel sniffed.  "I think so."

      Gourry didn't understand of course.  He said so.  "Could you start
over at "'don't jump to conclusions'?"  This earned him another kick,
which had to be some sort of record.  Gourry couldn't remember the last
time she punished him two times in a row without using magic.  Of
course, Gourry couldn't remember much of anything that didn't involve
food or sword-fighting, or Granny Gabriev's stories, so that wasn't
necessarily saying much.

      "Lina, must you do that to Gourry-sama?" Sylphiel asked.

      "He was being an idiot."

      "But that's not a reason to hit him, is it?"

      "Why not?" Lina demanded.  "Pain's a very effective learning tool."

      A few minutes of more or less friendly bickering, their host
returned this time through one of the magical doors.  He was now wearing
a pair of blue pants and a very strange-looking ruffled white shirt. He
had also acquired a set of oddly rectangular glasses.  Suddenly, there
was a bright flash of light, and a fanfare of a thousand invisible
trumpets filled the room.

      "Where's all that sound coming from?"  Gourry tried to say, but
nobody heard him, they were too busy covering their ears.

      Pralahad waved one of his hands, and shouted, "STOP!", or at least,
his mouth opened and his lips moved in such a way that it looked like he
said stop.  Gourry couldn't be absolutely sure, as he couldn't hear
anything other than the trumpets.

      Quite suddenly, the fanfare stopped, except for one lone trumpet
that started to play a jazzy little solo that sounded a bit like a folk
song Gourry knew.

      "I said STOP!" the old man cried.  "Didn't you hear me the first
time?"

      The trumpet cut off with a rather ugly squawk that sounded a bit
like a rather messy if necessary bodily function.

      "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting.  I trust you enjoyed your
meal?"

      Everyone just stared at him.

      "Oh, how terribly rude of me.  I forgot to introduce myself.  I am
Doctor Merrin Marco Tellar al Pralahad."

      "Umm, Sensei, you already introduced yourself," Lina said.

      "Oh, I did?" Pralahad said in surprise.  "Well, that should make
things go a bit faster then."

      "What was with the trumpets?"  Gourry asked.

      "Oh, just an exorcism that didn't go quite as planned," the old man
said dismissively.  "Nothing to worry about.  They're gone now.  So,
shall we adjourn to my study, then?"

      Gourry thought that was a bit abrupt, but stood up.  So did Lina
and Sylphiel, who accidentally woke the boy in the process.

      "Wait, Sensei, before we go..." Lina said.

      "Hmm, yes?"

      "Well, there's going to be a bit of a technical discussion here,
and I'm not sure the kid there'll be interested.  You have something
that could keep him busy?"

      The old man thought for a moment, the summoned up a stack of paper
and some quill pens.  As an afterthought he conjured up a stack of
bronze coins and a few wooden toys.

      "I suppose that should work, although I'm not certain you should
leave the child unattended."

      "I'll stay with him," Gourry volunteered.  "I don't understand any
Magic anyway."

      "Good idea, Gourry."  Lina flipped a coin to him.  "Here, keep
flipping this coin.  Every time it comes up heads, write down an X.
Every time it's tails, write down an O.    Play with the kid a bit.
We'll be back in a while."

      The old man clapped his hands together.  "Well, now that that's all
settled."  He performed a rather intricate gesture involving snapping
both fingers repeatedly and clapping a few times, then reached for the
door he had just come through and opened it.

      "Right this way, ladies," he said.  Lina and Sylphiel walked
through the doorway and disappeared.

      "Oh, by the way,"  Pralahad said, "if the trumpets come back, just
wave your arms around and tell them to stop."  Then he walked through
the magical door and disappeared, closing the door behind him.

      Gourry sat down, and pulled over a piece of paper and a pen.  He
flipped the coin.

      Heads.  He wrote down an X.

      Flip.  Heads.  He wrote down another X.

      Cyan sat down next to him.  "Whatcha doing?"

      "Flipping a coin," Gourry replied.  "Every time I get heads, I
write down an X, and every time I get a tails I write down an O."

      "Can I keep score?"

      "Sure, here you go."  Gourry pushed the pen and paper to the red-
haired boy.

      "Okay, flip the coin!"

      Gourry did so.  It landed heads-up.

      "Heads!" Cyan called.  "Flip it again."

      Three more flips.  Three more heads.  Each time Cyan yelled,
"Heads!"

      Gourry looked at the coin closely, turning it over and over in his
hand.  Yes, it had two different sides.  A picture of the old man's head
on one side, and a bird of some kind on the other.

      He flipped again.  Heads.

      "Heads!  Seven in a row!"

      "I wonder how long we can keep this going?" Gourry said. He flipped
the coin.  Heads.

      "Heads!  That's eight!"

      Flip.

      "Heads!  That's nine!"

----------

      Lina seemed to know these surroundings quite well, Sylphiel
thought, or at least she seemed to not be bothered by them.  Sylphiel,
however, was decidedly uncomfortable, as she suffered through feelings
of vertigo as they passed from room to room.

      What was throwing her off was the exquisite realism of the
surroundings.  That and the transitions between rooms.  Just a moment
ago they had been strolling through a beautiful grove of unidentifiable
deciduous trees with smooth white bark and silvery leaves.  Then, as
they had passed under an arching bough, they were suddenly in the middle
of a desert.  When Sylphiel looked back, what had been a tree moments
ago was now a strange stone carving that looked somewhat like a human
head.

      "Lina-san, what is this place?" Sylphiel asked.

      "It's a place where the four worlds overlap," Lina said.  "I don't
really understand it myself, but it's harmless."

      They continued to walk through the desert, the only noises were the
crunching of the sand under their shoes and sounds of their labored
breathing.

      "How can all of this be inside a building?  It seems so huge.  And
I can see the sun, over there."  Just then, they walked between two sand
dunes and were suddenly in an ice cave.

      "Do not trouble yourself overmuch, child," the old man, Pralahad,
called over his shoulder.  "It's simply a part of one of my ongoing
experiments.  It can't harm you.  Do you feel cold, now?  Did you feel
hot a moment ago as we traveled through the desert?"

      "No," Sylphiel answered, "but still, how can it all fit?"

      "It's not as large as it seems," Lina said.  "We've been going
steadily uphill the entire time, and in a circle."  Lina walked toward
an opening in the wall.  "See this cave?  It's not really here.  It
leads to a small workspace in the center of the tower.  There's one on
every other level or so."

      "But when we were in the desert, or the forest before that, you
could go any direction."

      "It only looked that way," the doctor said.  "You wouldn't be able
to walk very far without running into the wall.  You may not see
anything, but it's there."

      "Hey, Sensei," Lina said, "couldn't we have just taken the
elevator?"

      "No, it's temporarily out of service."

      They walked on, through several more environments, before coming to
a stop in a metal corridor.

      "Oh, Ceiphied, I hate this part," Lina muttered.

      Pralahad addressed Sylphiel directly.  "Now, were about to enter my
private study.  The door's a bit strange.  It has a number of
enchantments on it, and you'll experience some discomfort as we pass
through.  It's there to keep out a pair of rather ambitious Mazoku."

      "What does it do?"  Sylphiel asked.

      "It passes through a space that is completely devoid of magic."
The old man smiled.  "Well, shall we, then?"  And he stepped through the
wall.

      "I hate this," Lina muttered again.  Then she stepped through as
well.

      Sylphiel stood facing the wall, unsure of what to do.  Was there a
magic word, or some other trick?  Or was she just to walk as if the wall
weren't there at all?

      Tentatively, she reached out a hand to touch the wall.  To her
surprise, her fingers encountered nothing at all.  She stepped forward,
immersing her entire arm.  She stretched here arm as far as it would
reach, but found nothing.

      Taking a deep breath, Sylphiel stepped into the wall.

      And then she saw nothing.

      Sylphiel screamed.

      It was the most disturbing sensation she had ever felt.  Sylphiel
felt as if her very soul were being sucked out through the pores in her
skin.  Her skin tingled, her eyes burned, and the muscles in her body
felt like they were being simultaneously pounded and torched.  She felt
a wave of nausea overtake her, and then another.

      And then she was falling.

      Sylphiel screamed again.

      A pair of strong arms caught her under her arms, and Sylphiel felt
the reassuring presence of solid ground under her feet.

      "Sylphiel," Lina's voice called, "are you alright?"

      Sylphiel opened her eyes -- she hadn't realized they were closed --
and saw that she was in a long, narrow room with a large rectangular
table in the center.  There were other pieces of furniture about, a few
chairs, a couch, and several other smaller tables, all littered with
scrolls, bottles, vials, mirrors, and other odds and ends.  It all
seemed to be slightly out of focus.

      "Sylphiel?"

      It took Sylphiel a moment to realize Lina was behind her.  It was,
in fact, Lina who had caught her.  Lina was quite a bit stronger than
she looked, Sylphiel noticed.  It always surprised her to realize just
how strong Lina really was.  Sylphiel had -- now that she thought about
it -- observed Lina pick up Gourry on several occasions.  It was so easy
to forget because of Lina's diminutive stature and childish manner.

      "Yoo-hoo, earth to Sylphiel... Anyone there?"

      "Put your friend on the couch, Lina," Sylphiel heard Pralahad say.
"It will take her a while to recover.  Actually, she took it better than
I thought she would."

      "What do you mean?"

      "She's still conscious."

      Sylphiel felt herself being carried and carefully set down on the
couch.  Sylphiel wasn't quite sure why, but her eyes didn't seem to be
working properly.  They had closed on her again, while she wasn't paying
attention.  She opened them, and saw Lina's worried face hovering above
her for a moment.  She tried to say something to reassure her, but found
that she didn't have the energy to move her mouth.  It took all her
effort merely to keep her eyes open.

      "Sylphiel, child, close your eyes," Pralahad said.  "You'll recover
quicker."  Sylphiel did as he suggested.

      "Every time you do something like that, Lina Inverse, my back ached
in sympathy."

      "What, pick up Sylphiel?" Sylphiel heard Lina say.  "She doesn't
weigh all that much."

      "She does, however, weigh a good deal more than you do."

      Lina laughed.  "Most people do.  You included, old man.  Anyone
who's been through what my... sister..." Sylphiel could almost feel Lina
shudder as she said that word, "put me through should be able to lift
twice their own weight, easy."

      "Ah, yes," the old man said, "your sister.  How is she doing, by
the way?  I haven't seen her in a very long time."

      "I haven't either," Lina replied flatly.

      "Ah.  Well, time is a relative thing, Lina Inverse, doubly so in my
case, as you know," the old man replied.  "Still, I'm sorry to hear
that."

      The whole exchange sounded rather tragic to Sylphiel.  If she still
had any close family, she'd be sure to see them as often as possible.
Especially if she had a sister.  Lina probably missed her terribly.

      "So, Lina, what really brings you to my humble abode?"  Pralahad
asked in a rhetorical fashion.  "If you had been seeking instruction in
the Mystic Way, you would have come alone.  If you were in serious
trouble, you would have had the denizens of the seven hells flocking at
your heels as you arrived."

      Lina gave an indignant little snort.

      "Metaphorically speaking, of course," the doctor continued.  "I
must therefore surmise that your arrival has one of two purposes, or
maybe both simultaneously.  One, you are bored, and seek a quest or
adventure, having come with the assumption that I can provide you with a
suitable distraction.  Or two, you are having some sort of problem of a
magical nature that you are unsure how to deal with."  The old man
laughed, a warm, pleasant little sound of a man satisfied with his own
cleverness.  "Am I correct?"

      Sylphiel heard Lina reply with a laugh of her own.  "More or less.
Do you ever get tired of the sound of your own voice, Old Man?"

      "Oh, the shame of it all," the doctor wailed.  "I, the greatest
instructor of the Mystic Way in the past two millenia, mocked by his own
pupil, and relegated to a mere diversion for children.  L-sama, how you
torture me so."

      "Child?  CHILD??" Lina screeched.  Lina had a lot of buttons like
that, Sylphiel noticed, little things that would set off her temper.
Her sometimes childlike appearance was one of them.  "Why don't I just
show you what this child can do?!"

      Sylphiel started to regain her sight at this moment, just in time
to nearly lose it again in one of the more brilliant displays of
firepower she'd witnessed.  There was a surge of heat, then a deep,
rumbling boom like thunder a long way off.  It took Sylphiel a moment to
process the fact that nothing had really happened.

      The rumbling stopped, and the old man appeared unharmed.  Lina, on
the other hand, looked like she had just been on the receiving end of
one of her own custom fireballs.  Which, in fact, she had been.

      "Oh, please, Lina Inverse," Pralahad said sternly.  "You know
better than that.  It has never worked before, and it won't work now."

      Lina coughed.  "Had to try, at least.  Nothing's changed, I guess."
She coughed again.  "How the hell do you do that, anyway?"

      "Maybe someday I'll tell you, if you don't figure it out yourself.
In any case, though, it appears you friend has regained the use of her
senses."

      "Sylphiel?"

      Sylphiel sat up and looked around.  "Lina-san, what just happened?"

      Pralahad motioned at the walls of the study.  "What you passed
through when you entered this room was a sort of security system, a
place where the astral plain no longer intersects with our physical
one."  Pralahad sighed.  "It has the effect of keeping out various
spirits and demons, but has the side-effect of being very uncomfortable
for anyone attuned to magic.  Your swordsman friend could pass through
without so much as a missed step, but you yourself, and Lina, more
attuned to the astral energies, suddenly find yourself deprived of your
sixth and seventh senses."

      "Sixth and sevenths senses?" Sylphiel asked.  "I thought there were
only five."

      "The sixth and seventh senses are simply how you can 'feel' magic
around you, and how you can shape it too your will.  Nothing more,"
Pralahad replied.  "They aren't a part of the official Mystic Teachings
of the world at large, because they just confuse people."  Pralahad
shrugged.  "I wouldn't worry about your reaction to passing through the
barrier.  The two greatest students I ever had fell flat on their face
and could not be roused for hours after the first crossing."

      "Hey!"  Lina protested.  "I did not!"

      "I was not referring to you, Lina.  You are not the greatest
student I have ever had.  I am not entirely sure you are really my
student at all.  Disciple, maybe, or perhaps... my slave?  I shall have
to think on it."

      Lina just growled.

      "Why do you call Lina-san slave, Pralahad-sensei?"  Sylphiel asked.

      "A very old joke," the old man said.

      "Very," Lina growled.  "It's so old he's forgotten that it was
never funny."

      "Miss Inverse, you wound me, you really do."

      "Who was your greatest student, then, sensei?" Sylphiel asked.
"And how many other students have you had?"

      Pralahad looked at Sylphiel with a twinkle in his eye.  "Ah, child,
that is an excellent question, most excellent indeed.  The answer to you
second question is simple enough: I have had 23 students at this point
in history.  Famous mages all of them, except for Danny the Chartreuse,
but then, what can you expect from a title like that?"

      Sylphiel had to admit it was a silly title.

      "Ah, but the first question is a bit more difficult to answer, so
I'll go with my first impulse and say that my greatest student was Rezo
the Red, followed by Luna Inverse, and at a rather distant third, none
other than your friend, Lina Inverse the Pink."

      "Pink?"  Sylphiel wondered aloud.

      "Damn it, old man, why did you have to bring *that* up, huh?" Lina
shouted.  "I *hate* that title, it's absolutely ridiculous.  Ceiphied,
why'd I have to get stuck with such a wimpy color?  Do you know what
that information could do to my reputation?"

      "And you," Lina said, turning to Sylphiel with an angry fire
burning in her eyes, "don't tell anyone about my color, okay?  Don't
breath a word."

      Sylphiel opened her mouth to acknowledge, but Lina cut her off.
"Not.  A.  Word."

      Sylphiel nodded.

      The fire was gone, and Lina smiled and winked at her.  "Good,
'cause I'd hate to have to do anything to one of my friends, right?"

      "I think I've had about as much as I can stand with your silliness,
Miss Inverse.  It's time for us to get to the point again.  Hopefully,
this time we can stick to it."  Pralahad looked at her seriously.
"Namely, why are you here?"

      "I'm here for two reasons, actually," Lina told him.  "First, my
companions and I are a bit bored, and I thought you might have something
interesting for us to do.  You guessed that much.

      "Second, I'm here because I've been having some very bad dreams
recently, and I can't figure out what to do with them."

      The old man pondered this for a moment, and slowly started to
levitate out of his chair.  Lina didn't bat an eye, but Sylphiel thought
it rather remarkable.

      "There's not much I can help you with when it comes to dreams," the
old man said finally.  "Dream reading has never been one of my strong
suits.  You have more skill in that particular area than I do.  Your
sister would know more about it."

      Lina flinched at the mention of her sister.  Sylphiel wondered why.
Did Lina feel guilty about her sister for some reason?

      "Regardless, tell me about your dreams, and I'll see what I can
come up with."

      "It's hard to describe, really.  I've only had dreams like this
once before, but..."

      "Yes?  But what?" Pralahad prompted.

      "Last time I had dreams like this, someone was tampering with them,
actually taking them over and controlling them.  But last time, I was
being shown old memories."  Lina shrugged.  "This time, the tamperer
just appears and talks to me."

      "And how did you arrive at the conclusion that your dream was being
tampered with?"

      "Two things.  One, it was the same dream every night.  I keep
having nightmares about my food getting angry and trying to eat me."
Sylphiel tried to stifle a giggle, but failed.  Lina glared at her
momentarily, then continued.  "I think the intruder is just using that
dream as a sort of anchor.  He latched on to it, and now he gets back in
every night using that dream.

      "The second thing is, the intruder seems to be the one controlling
things.  The dream world obeys his commands, and not mine.  What has me
really worried is I haven't been able to take control, even though I
*know* I'm dreaming when it happens."

      The old wizard frowned.  "That is a matter of some concern, to be
sure.  For one such as you to be unable to assert control over your
dreams means that the intruder is immensely powerful, or has some sort
of personal connection to you."

      "Yeah, I figured as much," Lina said.

      "So, Lina Inverse, what does this intruder talk to you about?"
Pralahad asked.

      "Oh, various things.  He talked about magic, and the Mazoku Wars,
and he talked in vague terms about some sort of betrayal visited upon
him."

      And so Sylphiel listened for the next half-hour as Lina recounted
to them her dreams, down to the minutest detail.  It amazed her that
anyone could remember their dreams so clearly; her own dreams were
usually fuzzy, half-remembered bits and pieces without any form of
coherence.  Most of her dreams she was glad to forget.  It wasn't fun
reliving the destruction of one's town.  But then, this was a magical
dream.  Sylphiel had never had one of those, so she couldn't say for
certain if they were any different.

      "You are hiding something, Lina Inverse," the wizard accused,
snapping Sylphiel out of her internal monologue.

      "Well, it's a bit silly," Lina dodged.

      "We are all silly from time to time," Pralahad said sagely.  "THe
very wise are often the silliest.  They simply know when they can be
silly, and when they cannot.  Now is a perfectly reasonable opportunity
to be silly, Lina Inverse.  I suggest you take it."  He slowly floated
back into his chair.

      "Well, alright," Lina sighed.  "The intruder told me that he was my
father in one of my dreams.  Then he removed his cloak, and he was the
Chaos-dragon, Gaav."

      "Gaav?  Why on earth would a Mazoku lord claim to be your father?"

      "I said it was silly," Lina protested.

      "Gaav is dead, though," Sylphiel murmured.  "Isn't he, Lina?"

      Lina nodded.  "Yes"

      "Tell me exactly what happened," Pralahad said.  "Every little bit.
Leave not a single detail out, or I'll search your thoughts myself."  He
suddenly seemed very serious, as opposed to the slightly comical serious
he had been affecting up until now.  "I really don't want to have to do
that, and neither do you."

      Lina shivered.  "Why are you threatening me, old man?"

      It surprised Sylphiel to see Lina back down without much of a
fight.  She didn't know Lina all that well, but she'd seen on several
occasions how Lina responded to threats.  Her usual reaction was to get
angry and blow things up.  *She must really respect this wizard,*
Sylphiel thought to herself.

      "Mazoku lords do not die easily, Lina," Pralahad responded.  "You
may be right to assume he is dead.  But then again, you may not."

      "I destroyed a piece of Shabrinigdu, didn't I?"

      "Ah, so that *was* you."  The old man smiled.  "Very good.  I
thought you had a hand in that.  But I have not yet heard from your lips
that you killed Gaav."

      "I didn't."  Lina then recounted her encounters with Gaav, sparing
nothing.  She talked about her time inside the mountain, with the Water
Dragon King.  She recounted her final battle with Gaav, and how Phibrezo
had been her travelling companion all along, and how he stole Gourry.
She talked about her terrible battle with Gourry, and the final show-
down with Phibrezo with perfect clarity.  All the little bits and pieces
that Sylphiel had been missing were methodically filled in.  She was
beginning to appreciate just how much Lina had gone through.

      As Lina reached the end of her tale, she began to cry openly.  Not
a false sort of sobbing to get her own way, as Sylphiel had often seen,
or because she was injured and was looking for pity.  Rather, it was an
honest, soul-wrenching cry from the heart, caused by a deep emotional
wound.  Sylphiel suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of sympathy for
this young woman who had lived through so many terrible and tragic
things.

      Sylphiel got up from the couch and walked over to where Lina was
sitting.  Reaching out, she put her hand on Lina's shoulder, trying to
offer some measure of physical comfort, to help take away Lina's pain.

      Lina stood up so quickly she knocked over her chair, sending it
crashing to the floor.  She threw herself into Sylphiel's arms and
cried.  Sylphiel just hugged her, stroking her hair and saying, "It's
alright," over and over again.

      Pralahad just watched.

      Sometime later -- how long Sylphiel wasn't sure -- Lina's sobbing
subsided, and she fell into a deep sleep.

      Pralahad snapped his fingers, and Sylphiel felt Lina's weight being
lifted from her arms.  He pointed to the couch, and Lina's sleeping form
floated there, coming down to rest gently on the cushions.

      Sylphiel found that she herself was crying.

      "Ah, child," Pralahad said, looking at her.  "You have a most rare
gift.  You are a true healer."

      "I did nothing," Sylphiel said.

      "You shared her pain, Sylphiel, and in doing so, made hers less."

      "I don't understand," Sylphiel said.  It was true: she didn't
understand.  She didn't want to.

      "There are many types of healing, child, as many as there are types
of wounds.  Not all are physical"  The old wizard sighed.  "You did with
a mere touch what would have taken me hours to do with gentle talking."

      "You wanted her to cry like that?" Sylphiel accused.

      "*She* wanted to cry, child, but she would not let herself.  It is
one of her greatest weaknesses.  Lina bottles up her true emotions,
letting so few show through her carefully constructed facade.  It all
builds up, increasing her emotional pressure.  She needs to cry every
once in a while, to relieve that pressure.  Otherwise, she cannot heal."

      Sylphiel wiped her eyes.  "She is hurting?"

      "You ask a foolish question, child.  You already know the answer."
The old man sighed.  "You hurt as well, child.  I can see it in your
eyes.  You have lost people who you cared about a great deal.  Your
family, I would guess.  And that is a great injury indeed.  But she has
a greater one still.  You at least knew that they loved you.  Lina does
not.  She has always lived alone, in her own mind, unloving and unloved.
She still does not realize that there are people who care for her.  And
that is a terrible way to live.

      "She finds herself caring for people now.  You are one of those she
loves.  That blonde man downstairs is another.  When she recounted the
tale of his kidnapping, she relived one of the most painful moments of
her live.  A loved one, taken from her.  And then she was offed a
choice: risk the destruction of the world for him, or watch him and
others she loved be destroyed instead."

      "She will sleep for a number of hours, now," Pralahad said.  "It
takes much energy to heal.  I'll take you back down; the trip isn't
nearly as bad going the other way."  He waved a hand, and a door
appeared before them.  He opened it.  "This way, child."

      Sylphiel stepped through the door, and found herself back in the
dining room with Gourry and Cyan.

      "You have a gift, Sylphiel," Pralahad said through the doorway.
"Always remember that, and never take it for granted.  But empathy is a
double edged sword.  In order to heal another's pain, you must take some
measure of it upon yourself.  Never go to far without releasing your own
pain.  Don't bottle it up, or you will end up worse than those you
heal."

      And with that, he closed the door, and it disappeared.

----------

      That night Lina Inverse slept, and for the first time in a week she
was untroubled by dreams.

==========

End Book 1, Chapter 2

Okay, here's chapter 2.  Hopefully it didn't turn out too badly.

C&C is, of course, welcome, either private or public.

This story can also be found at the following locations:
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=376867 (HTML)
http://www.mrthou.net/fanfics.php?i=slayers (TXT)


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