DD: Malaise - Chapter 3

Demon Diary - Malaise
Chapter 3


Forest-green eyes danced slowly beneath their eye lids. Consciousness slowly regrew, but awareness took a little more effort.

Dark. Wherever he was, when his eyes fluttered partway open, it was difficult to see.

Cold. His  body was freezing, despite how many layers he knew he was wrapped in.

Pain. His stomach burned fiercely, from recent and ancient wounds, each was a distinctly different sensation, immediately differentiable from the other.

Movement. He was trembling... trembling from... fright? Had something scared him?

Identity. R... Rae... Renaldo. His name was Renaldo, that much was definite. He was a master thief. But why he was sprawled out on the stone floor of his underground hideout - which he now recognized as his current location - still evaded his fuzzy mind.

Renaldo at first resisted the urge to sit up, which would strain his already injured middle. Vaguely he pondered summoning the healing salve he kept in the other room, but there would be time later. Instead, he coaxed the air to support his back, to gently raise him to his feet. Balance secure, Renaldo sighed, rubbing the back of his head, fingering the growing knot where it had collided with the floor. What in all hells had frightened him so badly?

His eyes abruptly connected with another pair filled with silent white noise.

Oh, right. That was it.

Renaldo felt his pulse quicken. The eyes continued to watch him as he experimentally stepped around the table on which the creature was seated. The creature... he didn’t even know what to call it. A reanimated corpse? It sounded so harsh, unfeeling; the child-thing perched before him was far too gentle and lovely for such a title. But she wasn’t a true living child again, that much was obvious.

The wires attached to various points on her body were snarled around her limbs. Renaldo immediately reached down to free her, continuing to ponder as he untangled. She was part human, part machine, part rabbit... perhaps the best label for he was cyborg. He’d heard tales long ago of creatures of the same name in the far north, mechanical creatures that were said to have personalities, distinct minds of their own, that had murdered their demon creators and begun a civilization of their own. While this child had yet to display any such characteristics, she reminded him of that story.

He pulled the last wire free and laid it carefully to the side of her. Her head turned slightly to watch the progress of his hand. Renaldo was positive his pulsing veins were visible beneath the skin of his neck. The cyborg’s limp movements sent a chill down his spine. What was this he had created...?

And how much intelligence had she retained? He crouched a bit, bracing his hands on his thighs, getting face to face with her. “Hello, Ranya,” he said slowly, enunciating each word with care. “I’m glad to see you awake. My name is Renaldo. How are you feeling?”

She gazed back to him silently. The thief frowned. “Can’t speak, then. Alright, how about this? Give me your hands.” He held out his hands, one gloved, one bare. The cyborg blinked slowly. Then, as if overcoming hesitation, her hands slightly rose above her lap and settled in Renaldo’s palms. “Very good,” he whispered, eyes beginning to warm with pride. His fingers closed firmly around the chilly digits. “Now come with me.”

He tugged on her hands. The cyborg allowed herself to be pulled off the tabletop, and she landed steadily on both feet; the sheet she’d been wrapped in slipped off her slim body and puddled soundlessly around her feet. Renaldo continued to pull at her. She gazed up at his face and followed his lead, shuffling out of the sheet and walking with small steps, halfway around the room.

“Good, good!” Renaldo murmured, voice rising in his excitement. “No speech capacity, but she understands directions and follows them, and her legs work perfectly! The impurities of the spell seem to have had no ill effects,  this is astounding!” He released her hands, continuing to coax her forward. The cyborg remained on her  feet and toddled after him.  Renaldo’s pride burned fiercely in his eyes. “She walks on her own, beautiful!”

He halted and gathered the cyborg in his arms as she moved towards him. He couldn’t help himself. This creature was not an abomination at all. She was a lovely wonderful intelligent child, and he felt himself beaming with pride that he had rescued her. He squeezed the cyborg to his chest.

Little hands came up and rested against his back.

Renaldo froze. The child, on her own, had...

For the first time in longer than he cared to remember, Renaldo saw tears spring up in the corners of his vision and quickly spill down his cheeks. His breathing hitched. The thief bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut against the wall of emotion inside him threatening to break out. It had been a very long time since anyone had hugged him, held him, touched him tenderly at all. The memory of that last time struck him so intensely that all he managed to do before the sobs hit him full force was bury his  face in the cyborg’s neck.

The two sank to the floor as Renaldo’s knees wavered and gave out. His chest heaved, breath ragged and coming in short gasps. He moaned miserably between breaths, little details from his past rising into his mind’s eye.

Long slender hands... a swish of violet cloth...

Smooth strands of ebony hair... a faint, easily missed, easily disguised smile...

A splash of water... a raging fire... blinding pain...

Eventually, Renaldo’s breathing slowed. He let out an unflattering noise as he attempted to clear his nose. He hiccupped softly and pulled away from the cyborg. She watched him closely, expression emotionless, but the thief imagined he saw a hint of concern in the static-filled eyes.

He ran his gloved hand palm across his face. “I suppose you’re wondering what that was all about,” he muttered, wincing at how croaky his voice sounded. “I... I apologize for losing control of myself. Many of my memories are... somewhat painful. I don’t wish to explain them just now. Perhaps another time.”

The cyborg just continued to watch. Renaldo glanced up at her face but round he couldn’t bear to hold her gaze. “Don’t look at me that way.” She continued. Frustrated with the weight of her stare, he sighed and pointed toward the other side of the room, where closed two doors led out of the chamber; he indicated the left one. “Go be useful and fetch my healing salve from my bedroom!”

To his great relief, the cyborg got to her  feet and  scampered off. Renaldo sighed again, deeper.

Something was wrong with him. The precious fortress holding back everything from his past had collapsed. In eight years, those walls had never failed. And now, just in an instant, they had been shattered, by a mere touch. How could this have happened?

Renaldo crept a hand around his middle, feeling the bandages beneath his clothes. He was so sick of them, all they represented, what they hid and what that secret was doing to him. He could feel it day by day. Soon, he feared, it would be too late. “Maybe it’s time to accept some help...” he said out loud to himself. “I’m tired of this life. I miss... a-ah.” He couldn’t bring himself to finish; he could feel the beginnings of tears welling up at the mere thought. He forced the feeling back down. Well... it sufficed to say that he missed... certain elements of his old life.

Renaldo looked up from his stomach. The cyborg stood in front of him again, holding out a crystal bottle. The thief felt a smile cross his lips. She had located the correct item. He took it out of her cupped palms. “Thank you, Ranya,” he said.

Yes... it was time to leave the city.

----------------

Locus watched the shadowy figure approach and smirked. He took a special sort of pride in being the only merchant with connections to the black market that the legendary Renaldo Bandit would do business with.

Locus was loath to admit how little he truly knew of the thief, despite having bought countless items from him over the years. He assumed the man had powers; besides being next to impossible to steal all he had stolen by one’s skill alone, the thief appeared each time a different person. An elderly miser, a spry young child - once he had appeared as the tallest, largest monstrosity of a man Locus had ever seen. But every encounter, the thief wore that cloak. The merchant had never seen his face. It was forever hidden beneath a hood. A few times, however, when it had been windy, he had caught a glimpse of golden locks, and once, a glint of deep green.

Tonight, the merchant knew immediately, would be different. The approaching figure, currently a touch taller than average and of slender build, was not alone. Locus, who preferred to do his black deals in a stall in a back alley under the guise of a carpet salesman, straightened at his post. This was uncharacteristic of the Renaldo Bandit

“Evening, my lord R,” Locus said as the man stopped before the counter; that was how he preferred to be addressed. Though he could not see the thief’s eyes, his gaze made the hairs on his arms stand on end. There was no doubt he was in the presence of a powerful demon. “Do you have need of my special services this fine evening?”

The hood nodded. “And quickly, Locus, I am in a supreme hurry.”

“Of course, Lord R.” A supreme hurry indeed. The thief must be supremely distracted; the air had never crackled so viciously around him before. “May I see your wares?”

The free gloved hand slipped into the depths of the cloak - the other held the hand of the thief’s companion, who was too short to be seen over the counter so Locus paid him little attention for the moment - and drew out a small statue of silver and gold and rubies. Locus’ practiced eye quickly judged it to be worth quite a lot in currency, though perhaps very little in aesthetics.

Casually, the merchant declared, “A fine piece, to be sure, certainly up to your usual standards. I would purchase it for... hmm, perhaps 1500 zeny, and I cannot be swayed any-”

“It is worth,” the thief interrupted, “precisely 13,562 zeny. I will accept as little as 12,000, and that is final. I’m in no mood for your little games.”

“A-ah, of course,” Locus agreed. He was not about to tempt the frightening threat in the air. “12,000 is acceptable to me as well.” He glanced down, remembering the second figure. “Is that one of your wares as well?” he asked hopefully. It was a strange little girl, no older than ten, in a strange little costume. He himself did not deal in the slave trade, but he knew several that did.  The child in the rabbit ears would fetch a nice price. “If so, I would willingly sweeten my offer to 17,000...”

The thief’s arm flexed suddenly; his hand had clenched tighter around the girl’s. “Ranya is not for sale,” he insisted fiercely, voice so cold Locus half expected frost to crystallize right there on the counter.

“Just asking, just asking,” muttered the merchant quickly, pulling his money purse out from where it was secreted in his person. He poured half of its contents on the counter and carefully counted out 12,000 zeny; it wouldn’t do at all to accidentally cheat the Renaldo Bandit out of some of his money. “There you are, Lord R.”

The thief quickly snatched up his payment and vanished it to only the gods knew where while Locus busily swept the remainder back into the leather bag. As he did this, the thief said suddenly, "I’m leaving the city, Locus. You won’t be buying anymore oddities off of me.”

The merchant snapped his head up. “Leaving? Lord R, no!” The bandit, though he didn’t come by often, had become one of his best sources of black market merchandise. In fact, he had several customers who read the newspapers only to watch for news of new heists by the Renaldo Bandit, because those items would soon be up for sale.

“Yes,” the thief said. “I’ll not be returning here, if I can help it.” He hesitated, then with his free hand drew down his hood.

Locus felt his breath quicken and stop. Revealed to him was a youthful face framed in shaggy blonde hair held partially in check by a high ponytail. Striking, sorrowful green eyes blinked back at him. Locus was astounded; the illustrious Renaldo Bandit was almost a child! He couldn’t have been older than his mid-twenties. The merchant abruptly realized his jaw was hanging open, and he quickly snapped it shut again.

“I’ve appeared to you in many guises,” the thief said slowly, casting his eyes down as if ashamed. “But this my true form.” He glanced back up, almost shyly. “For all these years I’ve lived in this city, you’re the only person I’ve even come close to knowing. You’re an honest man... I thought you deserved to see me.” He touched the hood again. “You would do well to remember my face. Someday-” The words cut off. The thief paused, shook his head. “...never mind. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Locus.” With a flutter of cloth, he replaced the hood, turned on his heel, and left down the alley the way he came, the girl clutching his hand and trailing a few steps behind him.

The merchant watched the two silhouettes disappear into the night. No one had ever called him an honest man before. That man... Locus rather wished he could have learned the Renaldo Bandit’s real name.

He would certainly never forget that face.