The Instrument

Zalera thrust forward his clawed hand, issuing a wordless command to his dark, soul-hungry minions to charge. A sense of shame washed over Ashe as the hordes of sapphire blobs were terminated by the unholy forces of the Death Seraph. She shouldn't have needed to rely on the help of an esper for these creatures, but still she found herself calling for Zalera's assistance more often than not lately. That is not to say Zalera's knack for indiscriminate magical death wasn't appreciated amidst the otherwise highly stubborn amorphic monsters.

But there was another reason Ashe relied on the angel of death. Ever since their battle and enlistment of sorts in the depths of the Barheim Passage, Ashe was troubled by Zalera's demeanour. Unlike many these days, she knew the legend: Zalera, the watcher of the dead, had his devotion to the gods corrupted by the ill will of the souls in his dominion. Capturing one of the gods' own shamanesses to take as a hostage, he used her control and interaction with souls as a conduit to further his own power, hoping to challenge the gods alongside Ultima's insurrection. The plan failed, Zalera was struck down alongside the other rebels, now known as espers, by the Occuria, and that was that.

So needless to say Ashe was very surprised to find the shamaness ready, willing and able to fight very closely alongside Zalera himself in combat, even displaying great sorrow at his defeat. Her mournful sobs reminded Ashe of her own lost love once Vaan had delivered the final blow. While Ashe had envisioned a slavery similar to that employed by Mateus and his human armor, the shamaness willingly aided Zalera in battle, her death-wail remaining in Ashe's mind long after the echoes had faded from Terminus No. 7. Even now, as Zalera aids their cause, her melodic laughter can be heard mingled with his own hubris-borne cackling, her pale form staying intertwined with the skeletal esper's, even in heat of battle. Even in defeat, back in Barheim. No, this wasn't slavery. This was love. Perhaps the shamaness had fallen in love with Zalera once she was in his clutches. Maybe they were in love to begin with, a bond lasting back to before the Espers' Rebellion. The same kind of bond Ashe should have still been enjoying...

Zalera cackled as the shamaness draped her arms over his shoulders, resuming the loving embrace the Death Seraph almost constantly wore. As the Esper's power faded, the shamaness gazed at Ashe, as if she were about to say something to the princess, but faded from sight before words could be spoken. Ashe was slightly taken aback. '-Why would she address me?-'

"Man, that skeleton gives me the creeps," Vaan commented emphatically, driving the tip of his sword into the ground and leaning against it as a prop.

"Vaan, what did I tell you of treating your weapons with care?" Balthier berated the street urchin, "And I would have thought you to know better than to judge a book by its cover." He glanced furtively at Fran, who adopted an I'm-not-angry-just-disappointed look to throw at Vaan, who blushed and tried not to look shy as he turned away.

"It does, though!" he persisted, covering himself quite well, "I know it's strong and all, but it's still creepy..."

Balthier sighed, continuing down the corridor, followed by Fran and Vaan. Vaan had apparently always wanted to become a sky pirate, so it was no surprise that Vaan quickly bonded with the hume-viera duo. While he wouldn't admit it, Balthier seemed to appreciate the chance to train a protege, and Vaan, an orphan of the war, was all too happy to learn the error of his xenophobic outlook on life in the company of Fran. Penelo might have complained about Vaan's newfound friends, but she was occupied with a certain Arcadian noble she met in the Lhusu Mines. While the sky pirates were a great influence on Vaan, there were times when his insensitivities came to the fore. There was much to like about the boy, but he was still just that; a boy.

Shortly further into the tunnel, a fork in the road forced the group to stop. "Which way, Princess?" Balthier said, a snide undercurrent nearly undetectable.

"We split up," Ashe answered, "You three take the right, it appears to head deeper down. I'll take the left and then rejoin you."

"As you wish. Vaan?" The three disappeared into the darkness. Ashe turned around and walked on.

- - -

It's not that she was scared of the dinosaur. Ashe was simply surprised by it. The scaled beast roared, imposing its dominance on all who could hear it, and then regarded the princess, as a gourmet would regard a fine meal.

"Zalera!" Ashe cried, asking the Death Seraph for aid once more, almost out of reflex. The skeletal figure shimmers into view, cloaked in a purple cape as always. The shamaness issued a shrill cry, stunning the great lizard in its tracks before Zalera finished it off. Once the esper's business was done, the shamaness embraced Zalera, her hands dangling over his ribcage. She turned to Ashe, giving her a critiquing stare. Quite difficult for someone who is blindfolded.

"You call on us more readily every moment," the shamaness commented, her voice gifted with an ethereal quality, "Perhaps your victory over us was a lucky chance?"

Ashe shied away before forcefully defending herself. "It is not out of need that I call you," she says, throwing caution to the wind, "It is because I have a question for you."

"I suggest you ask your question," the shamaness acquiesced, "before we must depart, then."

"The legend of Zalera claims you were abducted from the gods, the Occuria..."

The shamaness waved a hand dismissively, as Zalera himself lowered in the air, now facing Ashe. "Lies, to convince whatever believers they may have that our kind must take someone by force to enlist their aid. I loved Zalera no less than I do now. I was an instrument of the Occuria, now I am an instrument only to my love."

"Instrument? You refer to your powers..." Ashe deduced, receiving a nod from the Shamaness, her raven hair shifting. "Do you not feel...used?"

The Shamaness gave an indignant look. "No more than he feels when called by you," she replied curtly. Seeing Ashe's confusion, she sighed. "You truly wish to understand?"

Ashe nodded slowly. Zalera saw this, and chuckled softly. He lowered further, now able to reach a hand out to Ashe. She closed her eyes, hesitantly grasping the skeletal hand, and felt herself be lifted into Zalera's embrace. She opened her eyes and found herself looking at the Shamaness, both Ashe and she draped with the deep amethyst caped limbs of the Death Seraph.

"I am but an instrument of my love," the Shamaness repeated, as Zalera's right hand began to pulsate with a pale carmine mist that slowly flowed from his hand and enveloped the Shamaness. The torso and legs that would normally be concealed faded into view, as the Shamaness fully appeared, in all her unnatural beauty. The mist slowly thickened around the Shamaness, but her gasps and murmurs left little to the imagination. Her face twisted along with her body, still held immobile, thrashing and kicking aside. Her body trembled with arousal as the mist fully obscured her from Ashe, whose own breathing quickened at how swiftly the Shamaness was being overtaken by Zalera. Loud sobs of desire slowly turned into long wavering notes of a lustful overture, as the Shamaness' body was tormented by the Death Seraph. The Shamaness began to slowly shift her upper body forward, before in a contrast of motion she thrust her hips forward, spasming her whole body as her voice found a high note that lasted the duration of her climax.

As the spasms began to slow, the Shamaness regarded Ashe, still suspended in Zalera's left arm. "Do you understand now?" she asked, still short of breath, her normally lilac skin a slight shade redder.

Ashe was speechless. What Zalera had done to the Shamaness was sickening, horrifying, yet irresistibly amazing at the same time. Her cheeks glowed as she looked up at the esper's skeletal face, a mouth that by default appears to grin mischievously.

"Oh..." the Shamaness attracted Ashe's attention, who directed it to Ashe's left. The queen turned, and saw Zalera's left hand gathering the same crimson mist as before.

"It appears He wants to hear you sing..."