13-Sep-2000

Disclaimer: I do not own the Gundam Wing boys, nor am I making any money off of this. The concept of a confessor and the Mord-Sith is from Terry Goodkind's Sword of Truth novels.
Warnings: AU, violence, shounen-ai
Pairings: 1+2 3+4

The Confessor Series by Annabell

Part Fifteen

"How many do you think there are?" Wufei muttered to Trowa as they lay side by side on a low hill overlooking the encamped army. All of them were lying flat on their stomachs surveying the disconcerting scene in front of them.

"I would guess about 75,000. That would be about a third of the Golgathan army if the reports were accurate," Trowa answered in a low voice.

"Why wouldn't they invade with their whole army?" Duo questioned from the other side of Wufei.

"Because the Emperor has other borders to guard. Golgatha is a huge empire and Odin Lowe has made many enemies. If they thought he was occupied elsewhere, they wouldn't hesitate to attack," Trowa explained patiently.

"Sounds like he's a real popular guy," Duo observed as he gazed down over the plains that were literally crawling with enemy soldiers. "So why is he trying to take over the midlands?" Duo wanted to know.

"Because they make an easy target. Up until recently, they were just a loose collection of small countries. Treize united them so they could defend themselves from this," Quatre spoke up from the other side of Trowa.

"Hooray for Treize," Duo muttered snidely.

Heero reached over from where he was lying beside Duo and gave the long braid a tug. Duo shot the cobalt-eyed soldier a mock-glare and pointedly removed his braid from harm's way.

"So, fearless leader. How are we going to get from here to there?" Duo gestured into the distance where there was an army between them and the fortress Bitterroot.

"Hn," was his answer as Heero studied the considerable obstacle.

Long moments passed as cool breezes mussed their hair and caused the long golden grasses, in which they were hiding, to sway to and fro. The warm sun was high in the summer sky and despite the nearness of the enemy, the soldiers had to fight to stay awake. Duo yawned and laid his head on his arms; his violet eyes blinked sleepily. Quatre put his head on Trowa's shoulder and dozed. Wufei just rolled his eyes at them and continued to stare with wolf like hunger at the massed army below. Heero thought of and discarded scenarios, trying to think of a way to get through the army unnoticed.

Then his lips twitched into what, for him, passed as a grin.

"How do you feel about joining the Golgathan army?" he asked.

S was bored. Maintaining the madness spell was a constant drain on his power, but other than that, there was simply nothing to do. There were no spell books around so he couldn't pass the time studying. He would have liked to talk to the other wizards but he had to be very careful about what he said. One never knew when Odin would "arrive".

He saw J walking by and wondered what the white-haired wizard was doing. J was the most powerful of the five and for that reason Odin Lowe had targeted him most frequently. Tormented him too. J had fought the Emperor long and hard, but even J couldn't fight against the power of the Golgathan throne and win.

S knew J had been the head instructor at the Magics' Academy in Erudin, the Golgathan capital, a long time ago. Three hundred students were attending at the time J was teaching there. They had all come to learn from him. Well known as a wise and powerful mage, J was just as widely known for his good humor and generosity. Then Odin had ascended the throne.

As punishment for resisting the emperor, Odin had taken over J's mind and power. Helpless to stop him, J watched in horror as Odin cast Wizard's Fire on the whole student population, which was gathered in an auditorium. Wizard's Fire was very nasty stuff. It couldn't be put out by any means. The liquid flames simply burned until there was nothing left to burn.

It is said that to this day the smell of burnt meat still clings to the charred Academy walls.

Now, his curiosity aroused, S followed J through the huge stone fortress. The gold and maroon robes that had marked him as a fellow First Rank wizard were easy to spot as J climbed the steps leading to the plateau. S followed a little more slowly, not wanting to be seen by that powerful, but broken old man.

J walked to the very edge of the steep plateau, and looked out over the encamped army. He spread his arms wide and lifted a foot to take a step forward. S didn't move. His heart ached for his fellow wizard. Such death attempts were futile gestures. They had all tried this at one point or another. The results were always the same.

The old wizard froze, every muscle in his body contracted. S knew what was happening. Odin was keeping a close eye on them, making sure his "pets" didn't harm themselves so late in the game. J's body took a step back, then another. His muffled sobs confirmed S's suspicion. There was no escape for the wizards, not even by suicide.

With a shake of his head, S turned and quietly walked back down the steps. He knew that J would be receiving a "lesson" now, and he didn't want to witness it.

Getting into Bitterroot was surprisingly easy. Donning the stolen black-trimmed-with-silver officer uniforms, they simply timed their way past the sentries and strode purposefully through the camped army, looking for all the world like they belonged there. Duo had tucked his braid down the front of his jacket so it wasn't conspicuous. After walking ten miles through the camp, the sun was setting as they came to the gates of Bitterroot and like that, they were in.

"That was easy," Quatre whispered to Wufei as they entered the fortress courtyard and climbed the wide stone steps into the fortress.

"Yeah, a little too easy," Wufei murmured back, making sure there were no guards within earshot.

"So guys, where do we find these wizards?" Duo wanted to know as they strode unchallenged along a long corridor.

"I don't know, this is a big place," Trowa said as he leaned out a window and craned his neck, peering through his long bang to look up at the watchtowers overhead.

"Yeah, a little too big," Wufei said quietly as he inspected a set of fortress guards walking past them.

"What is with you and the superlatives?" Duo asked Wufei, who looked puzzled. Duo rolled his eyes, "Never mind."

"Did you notice that the army seemed to be getting ready to move out?" Trowa asked. They turned a corner that led to a large doorway opening onto another roofless courtyard; the setting sun cast long shadows on the plateau before them.

Heero, who was leading the group and ignoring their quiet exchanges, stopped suddenly. The others nearly fell over trying not to plow into him. Ignoring their irritated protests, he looked up, studying a figure walking along the top of the plateau. It was wearing maroon and gold robes. Heero's cobalt eyes narrowed.

"This way," he ordered in a low voice.

As they made their way deeper into the huge stone fortress, they came to a large bare room with four doors at various intervals. A small noise from the far corner caused them to halt.

It was one of the wizards. The man was the weirdest-looking person they had ever seen. He was wearing a false nose and his hair stood straight up. He was dressed in gold and maroon robes. He stared straight at them, absolutely immobile. For a long moment nobody moved.

The wizard that had once been known as Symin, now just S, looked at the officers that had just entered the room. They didn't seem quite like the other Golgathan officers he had met before. On impulse, he closed his eyes and 'looked' at them. What he saw confirmed his suspicions and hopes.

Surprisingly, the wizard broke into a joyous laugh that didn't seem quite right to Heero's group, and ran to Duo, who backed away uncertainly at the old man's approach. The others were as stunned as Duo, but Heero moved to intercept the old wizard before he could touch the braided boy.

"Oh, you are a confessor aren't you?" he asked, his eyes bright with unshed tears of relief.

Duo was flabbergasted. Usually when people realized what he was, they ran the other way.

"Please, touch me! Hurry! Do it before HE comes. Please!" the wizard begged.

The confessor glanced uncertainly at Heero, who looked as stunned as Duo felt. Heero released the wizard and stepped back, shrugging at Duo, who stepped forward and touched the wizard's bare hand. Still looking doubtful, he unleashed his power. Thunder impacted the air without a sound, violently sending a jolt of agony through the joints of the onlooking soldiers. They had never before stood so close to Duo when he released his powers before and the shock of the concussion it caused surprised them.

The wizard's eyes lit up with worship and reverence. "Master, what do you want of me?"

"Tell me why you wanted me to touch you," Duo answered. For the life of him he could not figure out what was going on.

The noseless wizard beamed at Duo. Heero motioned for the others to take up guard stations at three of the doors. He and Duo stayed to question the wizard.

"Not even Odin Lowe can override a confessor's touch, Master. Because of you I am free of him. He can't force me to do anything again! Thank you master," said S, his face was filled with adoration that Duo ignored.

"What was he forcing you to do?" Duo asked a bit impatiently.

"Cast the madness spell over the King's Gorge! I didn't want to but he can take over my mind and make me do it. It hurt me badly but I couldn't fight him because he's so powerful," the wizard explained, still beaming.

"When will the army move out?" Trowa asked from nearby.

"Tomorrow after the General arrives. They will march on the Sank Kingdom first. There they have orders to kill every man, woman and child in the country as an example to the rest of the midlands of what happens if they resist the Emperor," S answered calmly.

Stunned, Heero's group could only stare at the noseless wizard in shock. It was beyond their comprehension to understand how one person would calculatingly order the death of an entire population. The sickening sense of helplessness filled them.

Heero saw movement out of the corner of his eye and turned. There was another old man in gold and maroon wizard robes, standing in the one unguarded doorway, where there was no one guarding. Long white hair fell about his shoulders. He was pointing to the roof above Duo's head and chanting a spell.

"Look out!"

Heero slammed into the braided confessor, sending the young man sprawling across the floor just as the stone roof exploded above of the cobalt-eyed soldier.

Duo looked back and saw Heero disappear under tons of rubble and debris.

For a brief second, time seemed to slow and broaden, and then it stopped.

"NOOOOOOO!"

With a sickening lurch, time started again.

Duo's anguished wail was still echoing through the room as he leaped to his feet and ran to the buried soldier, landing on his knees he began clawing frantically at the large blocks. Quatre was there a heartbeat behind him, pulling him away from the mound.

"Let me go!" Duo fought the young mage's arms as he reached back to the place where Heero was dying.

"Duo! Listen to me! I can get him out of there! I need you out of the way!" Quatre shouted, trying to get the confessor's attention. Trowa stepped up and took Duo from Quatre.

Quatre, relieved of his furiously fighting burden, stepped back to the mound and bent down. Gathering his power, he concentrated. The stones began to shift up and away from the floor. Soon, a battered, bloodstained form was uncovered. The blond was sweating from the effort.

Seeing Heero uncovered, Duo broke free from Trowa's restraining arms and ran forward. Kneeling, he gently touched the inert form, trying not to cause more damage. Trowa also knelt beside Heero.

"Heero?" Duo whispered, then louder "Heero?" He stripped off his jacket and placed it over the bloody body, trying to keep Heero warm.

"He's alive, barely," Trowa reported, feeling a pulse.

"Can you heal him?" Duo turned to Quatre, his violet eyes pleading desperately.

"I'll try." Quatre's reserves were starting to get depleted, but he didn't think twice about trying to save Heero. He closed his eyes and focused. While waiting for something to happen, Duo looked around and saw the wizard who had cast the spell still standing in the doorway. Frowning, Duo wondered why the wizard was just standing there, not doing anything. Then the wizard stepped into the room and Duo saw Wufei behind him, a razor-sharp blade held to the old man's back.

"No matter how powerful a wizard is, a knife in his back will seriously cramp his style," Wufei smirked as he quoted his favorite axiom.

Duo jumped to his feet and ran at the wizard; grabbing hold of the robe's collar he shook the wizard like a rag doll.

"If he dies, I'll make you wish you were never born!" he promised, his violet eyes almost black with killing rage.

Incredibly the old man smiled. It was twisted and cruel. Duo stared into his eyes, absently noting they were cobalt blue, the same shade as Heero's. The smile only enraged the furious confessor. He grabbed the skinny, wrinkled neck with his good hand and began to squeeze.

A gnarled hand reached up and latched onto Duo's. "Do you know who I am?" the wizard croaked out under Duo's throttling.

"I don't really care," Duo gritted out as he continued to squeeze.

As if he were swatting a fly, the old man slapped Duo's hand away from his throat. The neck had a white handprint that was fast turning red.

Stunned, Duo took a step back. He could sense that something was not right, but he didn't know what it was.

"I am Odin Lowe, you little fool! Do you think you can defeat me? My army will destroy you." The old man stepped menacingly toward the confessor, forgetting, for a minute, about Wufei.

At that proclamation, everyone, including Quatre, looked up, stunned. Odin Lowe? Here?

It was Duo who broke the stunned silence. With exaggerated casualness, he looked the old wizard up and down. With a sneer he commented, "I thought you'd be taller."

That seemed to throw the man claiming to be the Emperor for a second; then, with a cry of rage he recovered and pointed at Duo and gathered his power once again. By this time Duo had had enough. Quicker than the eye could follow, he once again grasped the old wizard's throat.

"I don't give a damn who you are, you're dead." Knowing that whatever was in front him could only see his merciless eyes, Duo unleashed his power once again. Odin seemed to sense something a split second before the concussion hit and fled the wizard's mind.

The tearing shock was too much for the wizard known as J; he fell dead at Duo's feet.

"It was him, Odin Lowe," S said sadly. "He takes over our minds and uses our bodies."

For several heartbeats, no one moved. Then Quatre, who had been trying to heal the fallen major, gasped and swayed. Trowa was instantly beside him, steadying the young blond with a gentle hand.

"He's seriously hurt. I can keep him alive, but he's too badly hurt for me to heal. We need to get him to a healer fast!" Quatre closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear it.

Duo tried to think, but all he could see was Heero's lifeless form and all he could think was of the thousands of people in the Sank Kingdom that were going to die. The helpless feeling grew stronger until he thought he might be sick. How could they hope to defeat an entire army?

Even if they managed to get all the wizards out of the way, there was still that army out there waiting to invade. With no defense, the entire population of the Sank Kingdom would be put to the sword. Duo knew they must do everything in their power to prevent that. If only he could use his power to do something useful.

Swearing in frustration, he slammed his injured fist into the stonewall; the knitting bones grated painfully in the splint. "Dammit!" He was supposed to be powerful, but he couldn't even use that power to protect the person he loved.

Then it came to him.

Maybe there was something he could do.

But the price, oh god the price.

"Dorothy"

Dorothy Catalonia sat up in her bedroll at the sound of the Emperor's voice in her head. Never before had she heard it so weak.

"My Lord?" she asked in confusion.

'How far are you from Bitterroot?' She could barely hear him.

"Less than a day's ride, my Lord," she answered quickly.

"Hurry and get there, ride all night, stop them." Then he was gone.

Dorothy got up and strode into the largest tent and proceeded to kick General Tsbarov awake.

"Come on, we're heading out," her voice was ice cold, the voice of a Mord-Sith. The general knew better than to argue.

Duo looked at Heero's limp body under his jacket. He remembered Heero helping him brush his hair, the gentle hands wrapping his broken wrist and that kiss..

Duo's lips tightened with resolve. He would do it. He had to do it.

Once he made his decision, he felt cold calm descend over him like a familiar cloak. He was prepared to do what had to be done, but first he had to make sure the others were safe.

He walked over to where S was standing. He spoke quietly to the wizard and was rewarded with an affirmative nod. He turned around and looked at Trowa.

"Get Wufei, now," he ordered; his violet eyes were flat.

Trowa looked uncertainly at Quatre who nodded that he should do as Duo said; then the tall ranger hurried out into the corridor where Wufei guarded their position.

"Duo, what are you planning?" Quatre demanded, a trace of suspicion in his voice. He took hold of Duo's arm, forcing the confessor to look at him. The dead violet eyes terrified him even though Duo had done nothing. Yet.

"You have to get Heero out of here. The Emperor might try again with one of the other wizards. I'm going try to get to them before that happens," Duo explained.

"Duo, what are you planning?" Quatre asked again. He knew that the braided boy was up to something more than he was admitting.

Duo looked squarely into Quatre's eyes. He was at peace with what he was about to do. He didn't want to tell Quatre what he planned. But the blond mage wouldn't be satisfied until he knew what was going to happen.

"Do you remember the gorge?"

Quatre was puzzled for a moment. The gorge? What did that have to do with anything? Then understanding hit him like an icy wave. The young mage went white to the lips. The huge blue eyes were the only color left in his face. Slowly, his lips stiff with shock, he managed to get his words out.

"Duo, no! You can't!"

"I can, and I will. I'll destroy the fortress." Duo's calm demeanor was far more frightening than his earlier rage. Quatre let go of Duo's arm and took a step back, looking at Duo as if seeing him, really seeing him, for the first time. This wasn't the fun loving, talkative Duo Maxwell, the boy he had spent the past few weeks laughing with and fighting beside. This was a Confessor, one of the most powerful creatures on the planet.

"But you can't control it!" Quatre tried to argue, remembering those terrifying moments in the gorge.

"No, but I can stop it before it gets out of control. I'll use S over there and the others if I can get to them. If I do this, then the midlands will have time to get ready. I don't plan on dying, but if I'm going down, I'll take as many as I can down with me." The unholy gleam in the confessor's eyes reminded Quatre of that day the Duo made the bandit leader eat his own balls.

By this time Trowa had returned with Wufei. They looked from the confessor to the mage uncertainly. There was something going on but they were at a loss as to know what it was. Duo turned to them.

"Take Heero and get ready to go." His voice was so calm it sent dread straight through their hearts.

"Where?" Wufei demanded.

Duo looked over at S and nodded. S started a series of gestures with his hands, chanting strange words of magic. Off to their left, near the center of the wall, a small hole opened up in midair. It grew larger; soon it was high enough for even Trowa to walk through with out ducking.

"There," Duo said shortly.

"A gate. But where does it go?" Quatre asked.

"It will take you to where we left the horses."

Duo looked back at Quatre, his violet eyes softening a little as he looked into the blond boy's pleading gaze. The mage stepped forward and took the confessor in his arms. Duo slowly brought up his arms to hug him back. Quatre's mind searched frantically for an alternative, but he couldn't seem to think clearly.

"Tell Heero," Duo whispered in Quatre's hair. "If I fail, promise me you'll tell him that I tried to complete the mission, I didn't run." Duo took the piece of silk ribbon that bound his braid and untied it. He handed it to Quatre, saying everything with his eyes that his voice couldn't.

"I promise."

Quatre stepped back. He stuffed the ribbon into his pocket then let his hands fall limply at his sides, his large blue eyes pooling with unshed tears. The dread in the pit of his stomach insisted that this was wrong, so wrong, but he knew by the look in those violet eyes that Duo could not be swayed. Maybe if Heero was OK, he could talk Duo out of this. But the major was deathly still.

Wufei sensed that this was goodbye and bowed respectfully to the confessor. He didn't quite understand what was going on, but the solemnity of the situation kept him from questioning it.

"You are a good student, Maxwell," he said with a catch in his voice.

"Thank you for teaching me, Wufei." Duo bowed back respectfully.

Trowa didn't say anything, he just held out his hand. Duo looked at the offered hand a moment then hesitantly took it in his own. Looking up into Trowa's green eyes, Duo lips quirked into a ghost of his old smile.

"Take care of each other."

Wufei carefully picked up Heero's unconscious form and walked to the portal. Trowa and Quatre followed. Just before they entered, they turned around.

Duo hadn't moved. He was still standing at the spot where they said their goodbyes, watching as they left him behind. He looked so lost and alone. As he watched them, there was wistfulness in his eyes. He raised his bandaged hand in a brief gesture of goodbye, offering a ghost of his cocky grin.

"I'll see you soon."

Quatre, Trowa and Wufei, holding Heero in his arms, stepped though the portal out onto the plains once more. The gate closed behind them with a silent snap. They were gone.

Duo turned to S. His violet eyes were once again flat with determination.

"Where are the others?"

"This way, master."

Duo followed S though the corridor and up the stone steps. They climbed until they reached the plateau above Bitterroot. The three remaining wizards were standing there, looking out over the plains. Without hesitating, Duo walked up to them and in a triple echo of silent thunder, touched all three.

The torches flickered and the air itself jumped with the concussions as the confessor released his power. The wizards known as O, G and H turned; their eyes filled with reverence and worship.

"Master?" they chorused.

"Which spell will utterly destroy something?" he asked conversationally.

"Disintegrate," the wizard known as S answered immediately.

"Start the spell."

The four captive wizards nodded and Duo could feel the rapid rise of power. Currents of magic stirred around them, streaks of black snaked through the air as the wizards gathered their strength.

"Destroy the fortress," he commanded.

"Master? Disintegrate is a single target kill, it is not an area-effect spell. We don't have the power necessary to convert it," O said.

Duo smiled. There was no mirth in it, just an awful knowing. This is what he was waiting for.

"Tap into my power."

The four wizards immediately closed their eyes and Duo felt the drain. This was no trickle as with Quatre in the gorge. He could feel power rushing out of him like a river, but no matter how much they pulled out of him, there was no limit. He was a male confessor. He was infinitely powerful. His hair, no longer tied, started to unravel from the braid. It floated about his shoulders as the magics in the air began to react to each other.

The wizards were showing signs of strain, their wills began to fray as the two different magics clashed and sought dominance. The air began to glow an eerie white as the spell started to spin out of control. The low, sonorous tone like a huge iron bell began to hum, at first almost ultrasonic but growing louder until their bones felt like they were shaking apart.

Duo raised his arms out from his sides and tilted his head back, closing his violet eyes. His chestnut fall of hair spilled loose down his back as he reveled in the power. The confessor was determined to obliterate everything in the fortress known as Bitterroot. He knew he had to hold on for a little while until the spell had ran its course. But something unexpected happened; he had miscalculated the magnitude of the power of the magics. The results were terrifying.

The wizards died instantly, crushed in the tidal wave of uncontrolled force. The roiling mass of power expanded outward. Stonewalls crumbled to dust and soft human flesh crumpled to blood-smeared remains as the rapidly expanding force rolled over the inhabitants of the fortress. Following the force was incinerating heat, scorching anything remaining into ash.

Surprised by the sheer destruction he had wrought, Duo tried to stop the spell the same way as before when he jolted Quatre with the full force of his Wild magic. He relaxed the restraint on his power. Silent thunder filled the seething air as he dropped the blocks on the awesome power bottled within him.

It was like high winds on a raging wildfire.

Quicker than light, the Wild and High magics combined and exploded with murderous fury. The very air screamed as it was incinerated. The fortress ignited in a blinding burst of white light. The two magics of chaos and order thundered deafeningly in a seething wrath of power.

Duo stood at the center of the maelstrom, caught up in the power he had unleashed. He felt the white-hot magic sear his body, but he held on. He was so connected to the destructive force that he could feel the soldiers in the encamped army around Bitterroot dying under his power. Thousands and thousands of men and women died screaming in agony, and he felt each and every one of them.

Duo felt his mind began to tear. Each death he was experiencing shredded his senses. Chaotic powers swirled madly about him. He opened his mouth to scream, but found he was laughing instead. There was no sanity in that laugh; it was a match for the forces around him.

'I am the bringer of death,' was his last coherent thought.

Then the world turned white.

Fifteen miles away, the gate deposited Quatre and the others near the stream where the horses were. Three steeds trotted up at Trowa's whistle. They all noticed Shinigami's absence, but refrained from commenting on the finality of it. Wufei gently laid Heero's body on the ground. They hurried to tack up their mounts, in case they needed a quick getaway.

Quatre kept his healing power centered on Heero while they watched the horizon, wondering if they would know if Duo's plan had worked. The pre-dawn sky was dotted with bright stars and the setting moons cast long distorted shadows at their feet.

"Look!" Trowa shouted.

In the direction of Bitterroot, a half-sphere of light began to rise out of the ground like an erupting volcano. It grew rapidly. With a fascinated horror, Quatre realized it was expanding in all directions, including theirs, at such a rate that they could never outrun it. He knew they had only one chance.

"Blindfold the horses," he instructed.

As Trowa and Wufei hurried to follow his instructions, Quatre readied his power. Focusing with all his might, he created a power shield about twenty feet in diameter.

"Hang on!"

The blast struck Quatre's shield like a hammer blow. Quatre leaned forward, splaying his hands and pushed as if against a wall. He called on his power, feeding everything to the shield. He could feel the power burning out of him at a tremendous rate but he wouldn't give up. Gasping for breath, he pushed even harder, calling on all the magic within him to hold back the weight of the chaos swirling around them. Behind him, the horses screamed in terror, but being unable to see, they stayed in the protective cover of the shield. Trowa and Wufei were grimly hanging on to them for dear life. Heero never stirred.

After what seemed an eternity, the terrible pressure lessened, then stopped. Quatre fell to his knees gasping for breath as he let the shield dissipate. Finally, he looked up.

All around them, except for where the shield had provided protection, was desolation. There was no grass or water or even dirt. Nothing remained except blasted, barren rock for as far as their eyes could see. Nothing had survived that incredible display of magic gone horribly wrong. The air was utterly still.

'I wonder if the whole world is like this?' Quatre thought just before he passed out.

Trowa and Wufei took the blindfolds off the horses, and then stared at the seared plains, numb. They couldn't seem to move. A hot wind began to blow, but on the slagged plains there was nothing to stir, not even dust.

It was a horrifying tribute to an ultimate sacrifice and the extinction of the race of Confessors, Trowa thought.

"May you be granted eternal rest, and forever let light shine upon you. Farewell Duo," Wufei murmured.

The Confessor Series by Annabell

Epilogue

Is it a kind of dream, floating out on the tide?
Following the river of death downstream?
Oh, is it a dream?

Bright eyes, burning like fire.
Bright eyes, how can you close and fail?
How can the light that burned so brightly, suddenly burn so pale?
Bright eyes.

            -Bright Eyes, by Mike Batt, performed by Art Garfunkel

Someone was playing a flute. Each note followed the other fluidly, each breath precise. He knew only one person who could play like that.

It was Trowa, he thought. Trowa was playing his flute.

He had heard that song long ago. It was a haunting, melancholy melody.

'Why would Trowa play a song like that?' Heero Yuy wondered.

Slowly, Heero opened his cobalt eyes, allowing them to adjust to the light. He fixed them on the brown-haired scout sitting in a chair beside his bed. Trowa's green eyes were closed under his sweep of bangs as he concentrated on the song he was playing. Sunlight streamed in through the open window. By the red hue that splashed on the wall above his bed, Heero judged it to be near sunset.

Abruptly Trowa stopped and putting the flute down, turned to Heero. "I'm glad you're finally awake."

Heero didn't ask how Trowa knew he was awake. The taciturn archer would just shrug and offer a small smile as an answer.

Heero looked around the small room. He was lying in a large, soft bed with covers drawn up to his chest. There was one chair that was currently occupied by Trowa. Other than that, the room was bare.

"The others will be here soon; I told Quatre that you were conscious," Trowa said with a small smile. Heero could see that there was relief in those emerald eyes. Then, his mind backtracked over what Trowa had just said, and he frowned.

Trowa, seeing the puzzlement, explained. "Quatre's telepathy spell; we decided to be permanently linked."

Heero nodded his head once, trying to fill in the blank spots in his memory. "Where are we?" he asked, needing to get a point of reference.

"The Sank Kingdom, Relena's castle." Trowa replied succinctly.

Heero nodded once again. He looked down at his body as he lay on the bed. He was dressed in a white, short-sleeved shirt and, on closer inspection, shorts. Everything seemed to be where it was supposed to be. Tentatively, he flexed his fingers and toes, then arms and legs. Aside from stiffness from lack of use, they functioned within acceptable parameters.

"What happened?" he asked.

"A roof fell on you," Trowa replied, a little unhelpfully. Seeing Heero's annoyed look, he decided he'd better elaborate. "You pushed Duo out of the way before a ton of stone blocks fell on him. They fell on you instead."

Heero processed the information. He was just opening his mouth to ask the most important question when the door opened and Wufei strolled in, grinning insolently at the conscious commander.

"Well, I'm glad to see that you're back among the living, Yuy!" he smirked as he bowed briefly to Heero. Heero offered him a small smile in return. He looked over Wufei's shoulder to the open door, but there was no one there. His cobalt gaze returned to the black-haired blademaster.

"Wufei, I didn't know you cared," he responded dryly. Wufei only snorted in reply and perched on the foot of the bed.

Heero once again turned to Trowa, intent on asking his question, when again a movement in the doorway caught his attention. Like a beam of sunlight through a break in the clouds, Quatre hurried in. His relief at Heero's recovery was evident in his deep blue eyes as he studied the bedridden warrior. Heero once again offered a small smile to his well wisher. His cobalt eyes returned again to the door behind Quatre, but the opening remained empty. He turned back to Quatre.

"Heero, we were so worried! You've been asleep for a month. We were afraid you would never wake up." Quatre walked to the bed and patted Heero's arm before he made his way to Trowa and, planting a light kiss on the green-eyed scout's lips, settled himself on the arm of the chair. Trowa's arm wound around his waist and held him in a gentle embrace.

"A month?" Heero was stunned. Quatre nodded, his blue eyes clouded with remembered pain.

"Yes, you were very badly hurt. It was all I could do to keep you alive. But luckily the Maguanocs found us in time and helped get you back here where the healers could help you."

Digesting that, Heero opened his mouth to try once again to ask his question, when still more people came into the room.

"Heero! It's so good to see you awake. Would you like anything?" Relena beamed as she spoke. She and Noin entered together, nodding their greetings to the others. Heero glanced at Relena and Noin, then at the open door again. The corridor was empty.

"I'm fine," he said, sitting up so his back was braced against the headboard. Relena moved to him and gently pushing him forward, then fluffed some pillows to put behind him. When satisfied that he was comfortable, she sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the others.

"Does Heero know that he's here?" she asked.

The others shook their heads. Heero was just going to demand to know what was going on when Relena turned to him, and smiled her sunshine warm smile.

"He finally got here and he can't wait to see you. I'm glad that you're recovered enough to talk to him again. We were so worried." She smiled again, her light blue eyes lighting up with delight.

Movement in the doorway caught his attention and he was surprised to see General Treize himself enter the room, with Howard and Sally Po at his heels. The General was dressed in his field uniform, all in blue with white and gold accents. The other soldiers quickly jumped to their feet and saluted. Heero attempted to sit up straighter but Relena silently impeded his effort.

"You don't have to salute, Major. At ease the rest of you." Trieze grinned as he made his way into the room. The General sat elegantly in the chair while the others arranged themselves on the bed or leaned against the wall. Heero once again looked at the doorway but there was just a darkening corridor.

He was about to ask his question when, yet again, when the General beat him to the punch.

"Report."

The four soldiers looked at each other. Quatre began the story, starting from leaving Virimonde, to the ambush in the King's Gorge, to the night of the sleep spell, and on to the Sank Kingdom. Heero, able to remember these events, kept his cobalt gaze on the doorway.

Treize listened intently, nodding at various intervals. Once in a while, Howard or Sally Po would interrupt to ask a question or to request a clarification.

Finally, Quatre got to the part about Bitterroot. Here, Treize started to ask many questions, from troop strength to layout. Trowa and Wufei fielded those questions, sometimes looking to Heero for confirmation of certain observations. Heero would nod but his eyes never left the door.

Then Quatre told about the wizard and the heavy roof collapsing on Heero. The blond mage looked at the dark-haired young man propped up on the bed and felt his heart ache. Heero had gone through so much. The skillful leader had enabled them not only to survive, but also to succeed. Heero didn't show any pride or joy in this accomplishment though; he just sat there watching the door, as though he was expecting someone to walk through it any minute.

Quatre then reported the incident with the man claiming to be Odin Lowe and told what Duo did to him. He then went on to tell of Duo's decision to stay behind and how they escaped from the fortress. Heero never moved; he just sat there, studying the doorway.

Quatre ended the report with the terrible destruction of Odin Lowe's army and the obliteration of the fortress itself. Then Trowa took up the thread of the story.

"With both the Major and Quatre unconscious, Wufei and I decided to head back to the Sank Kingdom. After about a day of travel, Quatre woke up. He was still very weak from having to cast the shield. We met the Maguanocs two nights later, and they escorted us back to Halas. Rashid took a few of his men and went to investigate Bitterroot, and found there was nothing left." Trowa stopped talking and looked at Quatre, whose gaze was centered on their recovering leader.

For a moment nobody said anything. Heero finally moved, looking for a long moment at Quatre. He didn't need to ask his question now. Then he turned his cold gaze to look out the window, watching the last of the sunset. He didn't look at the door again.

Treize was silent, also studying the young major. Heero continued to look out the window. Treize prided himself on knowing how to read people and discern what they wanted and needed. He saw that the vital spark that had always gleamed in the young man's cobalt eyes was now missing. It was almost as if he had lost a part of his soul. Not quite understanding what had happened, he nevertheless knew that what Heero needed was to be alone.

The general stood up, causing the others to stand as well. "I think the Major needs some rest. We will finish this in the morning." Treize motioned for the others to follow him.

The others saluted him, except for Queen Relena who took his arm, and all but one filed out the door. Heero was still watching the faintly glowing horizon, not moving.

Quatre waited until the others left. He approached the bed where Heero sat, looking at the shades of indigo and violet intertwining in the evening sky. Only the rise and fall of his chest gave any indication that he was alive.

"Heero?" The young blond tried to get his attention but Heero didn't move. Quatre didn't tell Heero that he knew what the dark-haired major felt for Duo. He had been linked to the Major's thoughts during the storm barrier crossing; he had known about the kiss. Out of respect for both Heero and Duo, Quatre had said nothing to the others; now he grieved for both of them.

"Duo asked me to tell you that he was going to try to complete the mission, that he didn't run." Quatre tried again to get Heero's attention but there was no response. Finally he slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled something out. He reached out and took hold of Heero's hand. He squeezed it once, then turned and walked quietly out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Heero blinked and looked down, opening his hand. In it was a single piece of purple silk ribbon.

Mission complete.

Far to the south of the Sank Kingdom was a huge city. White marble pillars holding towering domes dotted the skyline. Everywhere there were huge trees offering shade to the inhabitants who strolled along the paved streets. Waterfalls tumbled down from the rocky hills around the city. Exquisite fountains and statues decorated the market places and private residences. Everywhere a person looked, detailed artwork and stone carvings drew the eye. It was said that anyone who came to this city would stand and weep from the sheer beauty of it.

The city was known as Erudin, the heart of the Golgathan Empire. But this heart had a disease. And like a diseased heart, it was slowly failing the body it served.

At the center of this magnificent city was the Palace of Light. It was home to the Emperor, and the seat of the power of Throne, with which many emperors had ruled their lands with wisdom and strength, passing down their rule from father to son. The Throne derived its true power from the citizens of Golgatha. Its purpose was to protect and defend its citizens from harm. All citizens of Golgatha were linked to the Emperor, via the Throne. The Emperor's duty was see that the power of the Throne was wielded for the benefit of the empire.

In the cavernous main hall of the Palace was the Throne itself, the embodiment of the power. Soaring, vaulted ceilings arched high above, lit with soft shades of silver and blue from sunlight streaming through stained glass windows. White pillars, lightly veined with blue to soften the glare, marched in straight columns to the end of the hall where the Throne sat.

Standing at its base, Dorothy Catalonia was making her report. The Mord-Sith and an accompanying small band of guards had just arrived back from Bitterroot where they had investigated the destroyed invasion force. She was dressed in her the leather that was a trademark of the Mord-Sith. These elite bodyguards of the Golgathan throne were the deadliest beings alive. Trained in the art of torture and pain, these select few who were able to survive the deadly training were able to defeat any threat to the Emperor. They were the steel against anyone who would raise steel against Odin Lowe.

Dorothy pushed her long, straw-colored braid back over her shoulder. The single plait was as much as a symbol of her rank as her skin-tight red leathers. Her sky blue eyes were as cold as glaciers.

"The radius of the destruction was approximately 20 miles from the center, which was Bitterroot. The fortress itself was completely destroyed, not even the stonewalls remained," she finished.

The Emperor Odin Lowe frowned. For a fortnight after his unfortunate encounter with the confessor he had felt weak and off balance. He had not even tried to contact Dorothy via telepathy. Now, finally recovered, he sat on the throne. Another Mord-Sith, Une, was standing at his side. Her icy gaze constantly swept the large hall for any threats.

"Is that all you have to report?" Odin asked. His cobalt eyes and silvering dark hair were devastatingly handsome, until one looked closer and became aware of the cruel set to the fine lips and glint in his eyes that reminded one of sunlight shining on steel.

"No, my Lord. We found one other thing." Dorothy motioned for the guards.

They stepped forward, dragging a slender form and throwing it sprawling at Dorothy's feet. Long chestnut hair, matted with blood and dirt, covered the bruised face. Its arms were tied behind its back, and one of its wrists was wrapped in a splint, hampering its attempts to free itself. It was dressed in what had once been an officer's uniform, but now was ripped and stained with more blood. It moved feebly, struggling to its knees.

"We found this at the site where Bitterroot once stood, it was unconscious most of the way back. I haven't yet attempted to question it," Dorothy explained. That was why she was now wearing her red leather. Only when a Mord-Sith expected to get blood on their clothes did they wear their red.

"What is it?" Une asked as she leaned forward for a closer look, her long brown braid slipping over her shoulder.

"Believe it or not, a confessor," Dorothy smirked. Reaching down with her armored gloved hand, she grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked its head up. Violet eyes flared wide as stinging pain ripped through its skull. It hissed in pain, but didn't cry out.

Odin Lowe leaned forward too. He studied the heart-shaped face, and then recognition shone in those sun-on-steel cobalt eyes.

"Who are you?" he asked, a smile playing across his thin lips.

The confessor didn't answer. It just stared at the Emperor blankly. Dorothy kicked it in the ribs, sending it sprawling once again. Its bound hands couldn't prevent its hard landing on the marble floor. It lay there, gasping for breath.

"Answer the Emperor," Dorothy ordered.

Struggling once again to its knees, the confessor licked the blood from its split bottom lip and shook its head, trying to achieve some clarity though the haze of pain.

"I don't know," it finally replied.

Emperor Odin Lowe began to laugh.

The End

 Author's note:

This ends the second arc of the Confessor Series. The first arc was the prologue through part 7 for those who are wondering. I want to thank all of you who wrote to encourage me. Writing an epic for my first attempt at fan fiction was not my intention, it just happened. I swear!

Special thanks to Betty, my AWESOME beta reader, and to Kitsune, Andrea Readwolf and Maria for their encouragement. Thank you so much ladies!

If you are still reading, here's a preview at what is coming up in Mord-Sith! the third arc of the Confessor Series:

The terrifying events at Bitterroot have left their mark on everyone involved. An uneasy truce has fallen between Oz and Golgatha.

And Heero will learn the true power of love.

Mord-Sith!

coming soon..

(:./annabell/confessor15)