What Kind of Man

4. The Crossing, part one

Fai hated to be right. A few hours of travelling with the caravan confirmed for him that Alana was likely not pulling his leg, much as he hoped she had. While he did not talk much with the others, little things here and there that might have been baffling otherwise, made a lot more sense in light of her statement. 

What it all meant, of course, was another matter. It was not difficult to see that, in fact, there were no other "golden-haired ones" among the traders, to use Ollu's expression. Physically the group was about an equal mix of male and female. As far as his vampire senses allowed, Fai could not detect anything unusual in their constitution. They were humans, absolutely regular humans. Apart from being able to sense shades of desire and fear, he could tell, now even more accurately than before, whether he was confronted with a real human or a simulacrum. After all, that was just another word for a vampire's prey, often a magically created clone in place of a real human. But these were all ordinary people, even if their society was organized in some unfamiliar way.

The caravan lumbered slowly towards the city of stone and glass looming in the distance, and Fai grimly mused if he would still seem very feminine to these people in his full vampire form, with claws and fangs drawn, but restrained himself from experimenting. He felt restless. After weeks, perhaps months, of frenetic travel between worlds, charging forward blindly, the pace of this place was maddeningly slow. Combined with the glances that grazed his skin now and then, it was like sitting in a fish bowl. A fish bowl that was full of sailors on shore leave, and he was the only dancing girl in their company, he thought, his lip curling. There was a time when he would have found this amusing, and could even have made use of the situation, no doubt. But things were different now. The events in Tokyo left him in no mood for diversions.

Most irritating of all, Kurogane was taking it all in stride. Fai couldn't tell if this is because he was hardly affected in any way, or that he truly did not care. Perhaps, he really didn't? Fai realized he had no idea what the other man might feel about it all... Fai had never seen the warrior so much as flirt with anyone, though he had seen him cooly turn down the advances of a few brave ladies. Of course, Kurogane was fiercely loyal to Tomoyo, but that was altogether another thing. She was his lord, in a sense, not a lover. At least, Fai didn't think she was. But why was he thinking about all this, anyway? It's this desert, Fai thought weakly. There is nowhere to go but forward, and nothing to do but to plod along, and smell the thoughts of these desert-weary traders, and think their desert-weary thoughts...

And then, there was the matter of the barrier. Fai strained his senses to detect any magic at work, but the air was void and hollow, as if no magic existed in this world at all. And yet, whatever kept him from getting close to the city earlier had given way. While still much slower than their actual riding pace, they did make progress towards the city. What was going on here? How were they breaking through this anti-magic shield? Was no one else in the caravan alarmed by their pace, or was this, for whatever reason, considered normal? Why was he able to get through this time? None of these questions he had any answers for.

There was not a single magic-user in their party that Fai could detect, but, he thought, what if something was preventing him from sensing magic altogether? This could explain some things. Normally, he'd be able to sense, even faintly, the presence of Mokona, Syaoran, or the princess, if he concentrated hard enough. But for all he knew, they were not even in this world — save for the comforting fact that he and and Kurogane still understood each other and could communicate with the traders. Still, something was not right. His instincts, now sharper than ever, sent his skin crawling.

Fai watched Alana closely as she rode just slightly ahead, and noticed her looking at the lengthening shadows and frown from time to time. Time was passing. The others did not seem to notice, however, though they kept preternaturally silent; the beasts ambled along as before, the large armoured vehicles rolled steadily behind them, and Fai wondered if they, too, were charmed by this strange place.

Disjointed from their movement, the landscape swam in the haze alongside, as if the two existed in parallel and poorly synched dimensions. The red desert was as sweltering during the day as it was bone-chilling in the night, and it, too, seemed unnaturally quiet. The only sounds for miles around them were the rustle of the truck treads on the sand, and the snorting of the beasts. Tiny things were still flitting among the rocks, soundlessly. 

Time dragged along so slowly it seemed to have stopped altogether. How many hours has it been? The closer they got to the city, the quieter it seemed, the air barren of even such sounds as the hum of insects, or the flapping wings of a bird. Aside from the ever-more persistent scent of blood, Fai could not sense anything at all. It seemed they would ride in this void forever, yet, relentlessly, the city of glass and stone drew nearer, a little bit at a time. Only once did Fai feel something fizz in the atmosphere around them. The air around him suddenly twitched, if that was the right word. The quality of the quiet changed at that moment, and it became the normal quiet of a desert. Or was it just his imagination? The beast they were riding snorted, but otherwise remained unmoved, its pace unaltered, and Kurogane, seated in the saddle behind him, did not seem to notice anything.

Occupied as he was with thoughts, Fai had almost forgotten about the other man, though they were riding in intimate proximity atop the same great beast. Kurogane's bolt-straight frame was so utterly immobile in the saddle behind him that if Fai wasn't careful, he'd have taken it for a backrest... For a wild second he longed to lean against the hard plate of Kurogane's armour, and let the fatigue drain out of his body. He closed his eyes, and let the pain settle somewhere deeper, shutting it out. He couldn't do that. He could still remember... what happened in that blood-soaked Tokyo. This was not the time for weakness. If he let himself slip now, his resolve would dissipate. And then... 

Fai pursed his lips, dry from the desert air. He was hungry. And he was too close. 

______________________________

A/N

You may have detected a theme, so far, in the characterization of the people of this new world our heroes have landed on... I am, as always, interested to know what you think!

Cover image: The gang in Tokyo Revelations, by CLAMP