He went away.... went away...

There. That way...

Sydney turned to gaze at the ancient wooden door, running his eyes over the cracking varnish, and the sharp edges of the Iron Glyph engraved upon the plaque. No name graced that door, although the deathly quiet that emenated from the confines beyond reflected more than any sound could have.

That path was stained with countless centuries of blood, and as many old prisons, relics of its past decorated the walls and reliefs of the old cells and hallways. It was, by all records, built to swallow its prisoners, rather than simply confine - more of an executioner's block than a holding area.

The Iron Maiden was aptly named indeed; death awaited all who entered her harsh embrace.

In. He went in...

Long time ago. Long time...

Was that so...? Perhaps the Riskbreaker was after the ancient sigil - the only one Sydney himself had never held in his posession - after all. It was logical that he would try to avoid confrontation with the knights by taking another path... That would be common sense, he supposed...

But the venture was impressive, just the same. Surely, Ashley had no idea what lurked in the confines of the Maiden, but he would overcome their challenges even still... or die trying. That possibility would have to be considered...

It was not a pleasant thought... He needed the Riskbreaker to take on the burden he held. It was imperative that he pass the Key on, before the knights managed to corner him in his own city... necessary that he choose a successor, so he might be free of the destiny pushed upon his shoulders at birth. He could not hold the Dark in its entirety, and remain himself; he was not - was not - meant to bear that burden.

I was only born to pass on the legacy, is that not so?

He turned his face up to the ceiling, eyes half closed in an effort to glimpse the immortal Dark. And the shadows grew deeper, cradling his pale form in their soft, silent arms. I am not the one you want.

He was an abomination walking the earth, alien even to the Dark and its myriad voices... A living puzzle piece, etched with the Lady's sign and thrown onto the game board to find his way home. A dangerous liability to his father, a curse upon his own name...

I am not meant to walk this plane... Touch me, Lady, and I will gladly accept your cold embrace.

Jingling bells brushed his ears in a ghostly echo, shimmering in time to invisible footsteps. A flow of silk, more felt than heard, against his back...

Touch me...

A faint, feathery touch, trailing from the nape of his neck along his spine... tracing, ever so softly, the lines burned into the flesh by his sacrifice...

Pale laughter, a sound with no voice, caressed his ears... a smile, for those who had no earthly form. A blessing...

... and strength to go on... He wished, with what passion was left to him, to win Her favor... to behold again that garnet smile, and to hear the words only her chosen might hear. She rested here, in his mind, as much a part of him as the Blood-Sin clinging to his back... her voice is what guided him, and sustained him when the desire to simply die threatened to overwhelm his will.

It was her well-remembered touch, he thought, that could send such shivers along his spine... But her silence, too, had that same touch... for she had not spoken to him since the etching of the Key into his flesh, into his soul...

He hated her, he loved her, he felt things beyond his mortal mind to comprehend... But he sought, above all else, her final blessing... and the cold, near-loving embrace of her arms.

Love... Father...

... Returning! He returns... footsteps...

Sydney opened his eyes, staring helplessly, almost disappointed, as the shadows wispered away like mist in the morning sun and left the dull stone of the ceiling behind. The clamor of his summoned shattered the peace that had coiled around his mind.

Silence.

They vanished abruptly, their whispers evaporating as he sliced the channels away and sat up. The Riskbreaker was, indeed, returning; his presence could be felt, twisting the Dark as if he were a whirlpool, gathering the threads of power and churning through their delicate weaves.

Now was not the time for a confrontation - not yet. Sydney rose from the floor, a shiver nearly shaking his delicate frame at the stirring of the power; Ashley was close - far too close. He'd been foolish, to let the Dark take him in such a vulnerable position.

The door opened, and he turned, pulling the threads of the Dark and wrapping them around his limbs in a cocoon. Shadow muffled his breath, quieted his movements, as he turned to look back at Ashley.

He was unharmed, perhaps even stronger than he had been just a little while ago... Impressive. Beyond expectation... The Dark coiled about the Riskbreaker like a lover, twisting itself around his frame until he nearly glowed with its very presence.

He was almost ready - it was almost time. Almost, but not quite...

Ashley disappeared through the southern door, the Dark trailing behind in his wake; Sydney released his binding as soon as the door clicked shut, closing his eyes again until Her touch no longer tainted his sight. He longed to be rid of it, to be rid of his fleshly trappings... He wanted nothing more than to be rid of the curse that chained him to his unwanted life and the burden he had willingly placed upon his shoulders.

But time was a harsher taskmistress than his Lady... He could only wait, and hope that she would have mercy upon his immortal soul...



Notes:

Well... that was a bit different than I expected, but he actually spoke to me, this time. (Or rather, my version did, anyway.) ^.^ That in itself was well worth it. And this was inspired by something Alanna said to me, so she deserves some credit for my insipration as well.

This takes place during Ashley's sojourn into the Iron Maiden. Although necessary, that is not a storyline point as far as I remember. And since technically we don't know what Sydney and the others are doing while Ashley fights - and we DO know that they watch him - I came up with this. *shrug* I don't care if it's accurate, really... it fit at the time.

Anyway, hope you liked it - and if you didn't, you're welcome to go write your own. VS deserves plenty of good fan fiction.