The Infinite Nebula Star

Chrysth led them back to the diamond building, his coldness wrapped about him like a cloak. He spoke to no one and did not make eye contact, his own eyes were at half-mast, cloaked and hiding his ruffled feathers, using his mask to protect himself, this place brought back too much... too much. They should leave soon, very soon, if he didn't want Trine, Zalla and the others to find out about his... unsavoury past. He stepped through the crystal door, holding it open for the others as they filed in, Hebtu was sitting in the lobby, his ears fallen over his eyes and his tail limp as he snored softly. Chrysth went to him and stepped on his tail, waking the Lupanum with a yelp.

"What was that for, Angel?" He snarled, narrowing his own golden eyes at Chrysth's hooded ones.

"My name is Chrysth, never again will it be Angel." Chrysth said calmly. He gestured to Trine, Mystic, Sebille, and Saffire, "These are my other friends, show them to their rooms, and place that girl," He pointed to Mystic, "As far from Zalla's room as is permissable."

Hebtu's nose pinched, but he did as he was told, gesturing for them to follow, "Aren't you coming, Chrysth?" He asked, looking over his shoulder.

"I need to see something first, I'll be along." Chrysth turned on his heel and swept out, the ends of his coat snapping with his pace.

"Don't wander too far, brother mine." Hebtu said, nudging Trine forward as she tried to see where Chrysth was going.

"Why do you call him brother?" She asked as she saw the white Blesser pull his hood over his head to hide his starkness.

Hebtu paused, glancing at Trine, "Why is it you want to know?"

"I'm curious, he helped me, and no one knows really anything about him... you call him brother and look like you are not of even the same species." Trine replied.

"It is not a story that is mine to tell, but we are half-brothers. Our mothers are the same and our fathers are different, I inherited most of our mother's traits. While he did as well, but his father sold..." Hebtu's eyes widened, "Um, your room, yes your room is this way! Come on!" He pushed her forward, and no matter how much she asked, she could get no more from him, as Hebtu left as quickly as he could, showing the others to their rooms and disappearing deeply inside the diamond building.

~*~*~

Chrysth hid beneath the folds of his battle robe, his hand on his sword as he wandered a few street down, a large building stood there, looking like an old Gentleman's House from Earth I's America in the 1800's, the wooden planks creaked beneath his feet as he walked up the boardwalk, watching the old wooden sign sway in the faint breeze.

"The Black Feather Brothel" it read, and that emotion welled up from deep inside of him again, his hands became unsteady, a cold sweat broke out from beneath his clothes. He tried to regulate his breathing, but he couldn't help the short, stuttered gasps that he made. Fear. That's what this was. He hated it, and hated the control it was exorcising over him, he tore of one of his gloves and slid his katana partially out of its sheath, gripping the blade with his bare hand until the cruel steel bit through his flesh and made him bleed, thick red rivulets running down his closed fist. The pain allowed him to focus once more and regain his mask, the blank face once again upon him. He released the blade, sliding it away and glancing impassively at the deep wound along his palm, "Dammit." He swore softly and pulled on his glove over it, without bothering to staunch the heavy flow as he walked forward again.

He shoved open the door, startling the scantily clad hostess, "Can..." She looked up at him, "Can I help you sir?" She asked, her pale green skin and three fingered hand gave away her inhumanity.

"I thought I burned this place to the ground." He whispered, his voice like acid, running from his mouth and paralyzing the girl where she stood.

"Um... Sir I don't understand..." She quivered, he could almost hear her knees knocking together, the burn on her shoulder of the same likeness as his, a single feather, a brand, a mark of ownership.

"You shouldn't, you look too young... and you are alive." His voice was still the acidic whisper, his hood hiding all but his mouth, "Who owns this place?"

"M... Master Vedrain, do you..." She stepped back, the hollow sound of a hoof on the wood floor.

"Vedrain?" He flexed his hand inside his glove, using the pain to keep his voice steady and deadly.

"Do you... do you want me to fetch him?" She asked, making to move away.

"Fetch him." Chrysth demanded angrily, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yessir." She bowed and fled, exposing her goat-like legs, the two-toed hoof and the backwards knee, all hard muscle and soft fur.

He shivered soon after she left, Vedrain, his most cruel tormentor while here, Vedrain had taught him... Chrysth shook his head, clutching his hand into a fist, dribbles of blood working their way through the leather glove and the scent of blood filling the air around him as the soft 'drip, drip' of the blood hitting the soft wood made him twitch. What would he do when faced with Vedrain? Would he turn tail? Or would he fall into that red oblivion? He took a step back, this was too much, he had to go, had to get out, had to... had to... had to...

Spots began invading his vision as his terror grew, the pain became obsolete, not even that keeping his mind grounded, all that mattered was the fear, the anger, and the man that had taught him to handle pain with pleasure, his own living nightmare. Blackness became inevitable, and he staggered, taking another step back, he had to get out, now. He knew he was hyperventilating, and he didn't care, as he turned and fled, the streets passing by in a blur, and the blackness encroaching more and more into his field of vision until the gleaming beauty of his ship came into view and he slapped the panel on the side, making the ramp lower. He stepped up once, twice, before the blackness came over him completely and he fell into oblivion.