Sorcerous Stabber Orphen

Sequel to Satin Blaze

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

Rating: PG

Pairings: Orphen+Azari, Cleao+Orphen, Majic+Orphen, Hartia+Krylancelo, Rai/Hartia

Warnings: AU, possible shounen ai, mild language, mild gore, angst

Notes: Last chapter! *claps* And then the sequel! I've been feeling very productive this winter break, which is new since I usually slack off during breaks. ^_^ So... Go me! Thanks to everyone that's reviewed, and especially thanks to Alz-chan, who's been a great muse and has been reviewing nearly every chapter for a while now even if she has nothing to say. ^_^; Domo arigotou, Alz-chan!

Hartia sat back, numbly trying to process everything that had happened. "Why did you want me to see that?" he finally asked, running a nervous hand through red locks, disheveling his hair.

Rai raised his visible eyebrow. "You did not see it?"

"See what?" the redhead snapped.

The seer gazed at him for a few moments. "No... You did see," he murmured. "But you do not wish to realize it... Do you?"

Hartia felt his fists clenching in his lap, balling his robes in taught hands. "Realize what?"

"That you cannot have him. Krylancelo," he said simply, single eye flickering down to the image in the still glowing crystal. The light seemed intensified, most likely reacting to the tense vibes coursing through Hartia's body. Rai knew it; he could sense it. But... This was the only way. "You have just seen that he cannot ever be yours, not now." He closed his eye, blocking the sight of a furious sorcerer.

"What has him saving the two blonde brats proven?" Rai didn't look up; he knew Hartia was just upset. He wouldn't normally insult anyone he hardly knew, nor Krylancelo's former-classmate-now-apprentice. However...

"That he has grown attached to Majic, unconsciously, in the same way Majic has grown attached to him."

Hartia grit his teeth, arms trembling as he struggled to control his anger. He couldn't believe Rai had said that! He KNEW that he still cared so deeply for Krylancelo, and still he... He...

"Hartia..."

The sun was low in the sky by the time the weary travelers returned to the abandoned battlefield. The stench of freshly killed beasts, blood and poison littered the air.

"I can't believe that happened," Cleao murmured, pale blue eyes scanning the area. A shudder ran through her body.

"I can," Orphen replied grimly, striding over to the single largest zynth. The sword was still embedded in its skull, gleaming with blood, blue poisonous liquid and metal in the red glow of the distant sun. He grasped the hilt, planting one foot on the crushed skull of the dead beast and yanking the sword free. A grimace flashed on his face; hopefully there would be a stream nearby- Wait. A stream... NOW it made sense!

A rustle to his left caught his attention. Majic was kneeling where the pack was, a fretful expression on his boyish features. Taking a second look, Orphen realized why.

Once they had left, the zynths had apparently figured there might be something, anything, of use with the travelers. Orphen had been correct in saying that a magical sword was useless to them, but they did seem to have some use for whatever little food they had brought with them. Clothes were scattered about, some torn, some shredded, some still in fine condition, and other supplies, like blankets, were strewn about as well, now dirty.

Majic looked up, guilt clear in his eyes and the way his eyebrows stitched together, gently sloping downward. "I'm sorry, Oshou-sama..."

Orphen sighed. "Don't worry about it. Let's just get whatever we can still use."

The three gathered their belongings in silence. Once finished, Cleao set about in rummaging through what was left while Orphen spoke.

"We must be near a stream," he commented, as though nothing were wrong at all. "Zynths are very much like wolves in the way they can pick up human scent. They figured once we get near water they'd lose us."

Majic had the unsheathed sword in his lap, a rag in his hand as he tried to clean off what he could. Eyes focusing on the faintly glowing sorcerous runes, he inquired, "But Oshou-sama, I found that many moons ago. Why did they just attack us now?"

The older sorcerer shrugged. "Zynths are weird that way. Maybe they were too weak before, or perhaps they had too few brethren with them. In any case-"

"Ah!" Cleao cried suddenly, startling both males. "My dagger! I can't find it anywhere!"

Orphen raised an eyebrow. "Guess they had some use for that, then," he remarked.

She glared at him. "You don't understand, do you? That was my father's!" Blonde curls swayed as she sat back, bowing her head. "It wasn't quite as precious as the sword, but I remember he would take it with him every time he went into the woods. Self defense, he always told Mother. But..."

The amber-eyed sorcerer rubbed the back of his head, sighing tiredly. "I'm sorry about that, Cleao. I'll get you a new one at the next town, okay?"

He almost missed the odd look that flashed across his apprentice's face. He tilted his head to look at him, frowning. "Something wrong?"

"No," Majic responded automatically, tugging on a buckle of the pack rather viciously. "But you said you wanted to reach the island soon, right, Oshou-sama? Shouldn't we be going?"

It was really beginning to irk Orphen the way Majic avoided all eye contact with him when he was upset, and then he would deny it. He'd have to confront him about it sometime. Right now he was still too tired and feeling too uncaring to bother. "Yeah, fine. Let's go." He got to his feet, as did Cleao whilst dusting off the back of her dress. Majic slung the somewhat lighter pack over his shoulders, grasping the straps.

Slanted eyes narrowed slightly, noting the faint trembling in the boy's body. He had yet to regain his full strength; he'd lost too much blood to be doing this... But he knew Majic would only refuse any help, so he didn't bother. If he collapsed, it would be his own damn fault!

Even thinking that didn't make him feel any better. Something was nagging him, trying to get him to pay attention, but when he DID try it would fade away.

Orphen shook his head slightly to clear his mind. Right now he just wanted to save Azari. Once that was done and over with, once everyone was happy again, THEN he could sort out his thoughts and emotions.

Because Azari always came first.

"Rai?"

The clairvoyant prodigy turned to see his teacher. Childman had the most peculiar expression on his face that vaguely reminded him of Azari's perusing stare, but he shook it off. Sometimes people mimicked people without realizing it, after all. "Yes, Sensei?"

Childman brought one hand up beneath his chin, the action nearly... Feminine. Odd. Perhaps he was tired. "Did something happen to your face?"

A pale hand flitted up to graze the swollen red mark, compliments of Hartia, of course. He had been expecting the punch, but he hadn't braced himself and he certainly hadn't known it would be so strong! "I got in a little fight," he replied mildly. "It was nothing serious... Rather childish, really, and my fault to start with. It will heal."

The stare became disturbingly more scrutinizing, but Childman made no remark upon the answer. "Be sure to rest, Rai. I'm sure you'll be busy tomorrow."

"Yes, Sensei." He watched his teacher walk past him, soon disappearing like a shadow in the dimly lit hallways. Something about it sent chills down his spine. He didn't exactly know, why, but perhaps... Somehow he felt that if he found the Bloody August during his next meditation, he'd get a better clue toward the answer.