Rating: PG13-R (perhaps even NC17)
Summery: Thoughts can be dangerous, and demons from inside our own minds can do the most damage of all.
Notes: First D/K ever, but I have written quite a lot of slash before and feel quite confidant in my writing skills (as long as you don’t cont spelling :P ) I hope people will give it a read. I worked quite hard on it. Umm... hehehehe, no firbles but... *sigh* its the only arc the lad ficcie i have right now... *sigh* I hope its liked anyway
He looked so fragile… but it suited him. His hair was undone, splaying in threads of sable and dusky gold around his face while dreams drifted behind his closed eyes. His sword was right beside him of course, long elegant deadly silver glinting in the moonlight.
The night had seemed oddly perpetual lately, as they had trekked through the unyielding harshness of an untouched continent, seeking out a new energy source. How they had ended up together neither was quite sure… There was a blur skimming through the thick tangle of trees, then suddenly there was two. They fell in beside each other quite naturally, wondering apart enough to confirm they weren’t fallowing each other but in fact just happened to fall in step beside each other instead.
They rose there swords to fierce dragons and monsters side by side, just as many times as they had fought against each other in this strange lush land. Kharg sported Darc’s jet sandals, while Darc wore his brother’s hair ribbon tied around his left horn. They were tokens of victory, telling of a fight won and a promise of infinite rematches.
Was it about winning? Of course, as was all fighting… but it was about strength as well. Who had enough to win, who had enough to dare fight again, who had enough to stop just short of a fetal blow, cast a feral smirk and vanish into the emerald vale of trees winding through the place.
‘I could have killed you, I’d just rather let you live to flaunt the fact you don’t threaten me.’ That was the message. Who had the strength to prove they were a threat worth reckoning with? It was now perhaps more about that then exploring the island, anyway. They had both been drawn into the thrill of the pursuit, of there own special game.
It was all a question of strength, Darc decided for the thousandth time as he watched his brother’s slumbering form. Of course he could kill him now, but what would be the fun in that? Why kill him when this game was so much more fun then that could ever be…
He did look so very frail… washed in silver night, splayed over the ground. Darc reached into the air, intent on yanking his hair to jolt him into a furious wake, but suddenly stopped. He brushed it away instead, ivory claws tracing the gentle yet inhuman curve of his ear. Kharg stirred, murmuring sleepy nonsense and batting dully at the air to Darc’s left.
He couldn’t help but smirk the smallest bit. He sat back suddenly, watching, seeking out any other little imperfections…
The wind howled loudly, singing in a haunting voice of ice . It was so damn cold…
Kharg's face twitched as the cold seeped through the sheets of sleep cloaking him. He shuddered, rolling toward the drawing warmth close to his side. Sleepily, he latched an arm around Darc’s waist, resting his face in the warm red cloth cloaking his lap.
Darc stilled suddenly, looking down at the form nestled against him, seeing a strange pair of bumps creasing the blue fabric of his shirt ob his back. His dark brows knitted down in confusion as he ran his hand over them, not learning much as they were obscured by the fabric. Kharg stirred, face twisting in some unfathomable fear.
“No…” he whispered through the sleep cloaking him. “Please no…” Darc jolted the smallest bit upon feeling those to strange bumps twitch under his fingers. He starred down for a few long moment, blinking eyes like flickering flashes of blood in the serene midnight. With a slight flash hesitation he refused to let himself feel, he slid his hand under the bottom of Kharg’s top after tugging it from his armor. His flesh was warm and soft, damp with the sweat of heavy dreams and rough in places from battle scars.
Kharg turned his face against Darc’s lap, face brushing his legs as he stirred, seemingly refusing something. He mumbled a slur of unrecognizable words into the red fabric, body tense under Darc’s hand. It seemed so strange… Kharg so lost and confused. It didn’t seem like him at all, this quailing silver tinged lost little thing with strange scars and bizarre twitching bumps…
“Mother!” He screamed, taste of bloody copper and decay writhing in his gut. He was going to be sick. She screamed his name as the rocks crumbled beneath her, as she fell to the crushing black abyss beneath her.
“I’ll save you Mother!” He could feel the muscles reaching from his back, the scaly leather like skin billowing from them. He was running toward the crumbling cliff, ready to dive off and catch his mother before she slipped away again…
But suddenly he was thrown to the ground, back screaming in pain. The scent of blood made his head spin as the sound of his mother’s screaming drew further and further away.
“Let me go! I need to save her!” He thrashed, screaming past the sound of tarring flesh. “Why are you doing this to me?” tears bled from his eyes.
“I’m not, you are,” his own voice echoed back. He twisted around in horror, seeing his own eyes starring back at him, with a searing harsh sympathy. His hands, and the hands of the image of himself holding him down, were soaked in blood. “You did it to yourself.”
“You let her go.” he was crying, they both were
“Its your fault!” Kharg shoved his mirror image off of him, quivering on his knees and starring at the wings that lay limp on the died dead ground.
“Its your fault too!” he shot back, starring at were he had pushed himself.
Darc starred back him, looking so much the same but to very different as tears streamed down his face.
“Its your fault!” Kharg screamed again, throat raw.
“Its your fault too!” Darc echoed him.
“Shut up! I don’t want to hear it!” Kharg pressed his hands to his ears desperately, trying to block out the sound. Darc did the same, pressing his hands to his ears and looking like it pained him to hear anything at all.
“God, stop it!” Kharg shrieked, tarring at his twin with his eyes.
“Fine!! I will”
“I’m the only one of us who can!”
“What?!” Kharg could feel his heart hammer against his chest, like a frantic bird in a cage of bone.
“You know your not strong enough to stop the pain! You know I’m the only one who can!” For some reason Kharg found himself unable to respond as he sat on the edge of the cliff with his twin, perched on a tiny spit of land between the swirling bloody sky and the all consuming black nothingness below.
“Only I can do it…” Darc began to lean back, wavering on the edge.
“You don’t have wings!” Kharg said, his voice a quite hoarse whisper as he had no strength to shout.
“Doesn’t mean I cant fly…” Darc sighed, falling back. Kharg snatched the air he had seconds ago occupied, fingers merely brushing the tips of his hair before he plummeted.
“No!” But the nothingness consumed him as well.
“What’s left to fly for? Why should I bother to open my wings?” his voice echoed where he had once been.
“… I don’t know!” Kharg fell to his knees, holding his hands over his face and trying to catch the tears before they fell. “I hate you like this! Your not supposed to be like this! You cant do this!! You’re all I have left so don’t you dare not open your wings for me!”
Darc had drawn the fabric back, scanning the ivory bones jutting from scabbed soars on his brother’s back.
“Wings…” he breathed, fingers grazing the bones. Kharg jolted violently, pressing his face to Darc’s thigh. Darc twitched, eyes dimming as a strange sensation seeped about him. It was all about strength, right? His was draining… it was something he had to watch, something he had to appreciate. It was like a spell, he couldn’t help it… he couldn’t look away, couldn’t help but think
… Oh no, those were dangerous thoughts.
Kharg gave one last violet jolt, the bones jutting from his back twitching roughly and tarring open the scabs until they bled thick streams of red. Kharg gasped as he woke with a jolt, starring into the blur of red before his eyes and feeling hot wetness and fingers trace down his back.
“D-Darc?” he choked out, shaking and starring up with bloodshot eyes.
“What?” his brother answered in his usual irritable tone, like this was nothing unusual. Kharg shot up, wrapping his brother in a fierce hug and resting his head against the hallow were his shoulder and neck met. He was shaking, coated on cold sweat.
“What’s your problem?” Darc shot defensively, more out of habit then anything. Kharg sat still for a moment before twisting around and trying to get a good look at his back.
“Ouch…” he muttered, exposed muscles giving painful little spasms. Darc finally closed his arms around his brother, holding him in something like affection… only darker, tighter.
“What was that…?” his voice was dim, dusky.
“… a dream, that’s all….”
“Must have been one hell of a dream…”
“What were you doing?” Kharg asked to change the subject and because the conditions we awoke under suddenly hit him.
“… thinking.” Darc looked straight into Kharg’s eyes, grip tightening.
“…a-about?” Suddenly he felt unprepared for this.
“Strength. Specifically, what I have the strength to do, what you… don’t have the strength to do…”
“W-what!?” Kharg’s eyes swelled in fear. It was so much like the dream. He held his brother tight again, biting back a childish sob. He held tight, not daring to relinquish after that statement.
“… Let go of me,” his voice was soft and dark, like a bat through soft silver midnight.
“No,” he held tighter.
“… I should have worded that differently…” Suddenly the word was moving around them. It shifted until Kharg found himself between the cool soft grass and his brother. The moonlight set specks of stars falling through his hair, made his eyes blaze like intense red twilight.
“What I should have said was ‘what I have the strength to do, and what you don’t have the strength to stop.’”
“Wh-what?” Kharg began to struggle, fear enveloping him. Confusion marred his mind. “What are you ding? Stop it!” he struggled to free his hands from Darc’s grip, to reach for his sword. “This is so low! Let me go! There’s no fucking honor killing me like this!!” Kharg hated the tears blaring down his face. “I cant believe I was upset from that stupid dream! I cant believe seeing you die upset me! You bastard! Get the fuck off of me!”
“I’ve thought to much…”
“W-what?” Darc smiled, sad and shadowy.
“You wont find anything worthy of redeeming here Kharg…” he began to lower his head, eyes dull flashes of empty crimson as a black cloud obscured the moon and icy blackness swallowed them both.
~~** END PART ONE **~~
Ok, review please and i'll be sure to write and post part two.