Ivory Hand

Ivory Hand

A Xenogears fanfic by Princess Artemis

Bony fingers stripped of flesh scrabbled at his
finely stitched coat. “I’m hungry hungry hungry
I’m hungry, Krelian! It hurts…!”

Krelian’s lips turned up in a smile that
held no warmth as he lead my disintegrating form to a pile of
bloodied meat. “Eat this,” he said, pointing to the
gore. I did not hesitate, so hungry, so hungry…burying my
oversized skeletal hands into the still-warm flesh, I scooped it
up and devoured it. Too hungry to care that it was untreated Wels,
I began gulping down the entire body. It eased my hunger but not
my pain. Little to be had now would do that. No untortured human
form entered here while I was free, except for Krelian and Elsa,
she of the indigo hair. As much as I lusted for their
unadulterated blood, I dared not attempt it, lest they warp me
more than I was already.

He turned away and left me to my meal. I
remembered the first time Krelian had given me Wels flesh to eat;
it was in fact the first meat I had eaten since I had myself
ceased to be human. I remembered screaming at him for food that
would easy my pain, blood of humans, not some mutated monstrosity.
I could taste it was Wels flesh. Somehow, I knew my own.

Once, long ago, I was human. I had a name, I
think. Satoru Ricdeau…that was it, when I still had eyes to see
and ears to hear. And a family.

I shoved the last bit of the dead Wels past my
jagged teeth and envied it. Not so hungry now. I was left with
little to take my mind off the pain after that. I had long since
given up any attempt at dignity; what tatters covered my rotting
body were damp with new blood and stained with old. My horribly
changed hands were useless for the task.

The bones outgrew the skin that contained them.
I can still feel my hands tearing. I can still see the folds of
skin and muscle flapping at my elbows, still recall the horror
and wonder when I realized the bones worked. That was the first
thing I lost, my hands.

The next thing was my sister, and I did not
even realize it when it happened.

Krelian brought her in, sometime after the
mutations had first started. He had left me hungry. He had thrust
her into my cell, along with my brother. I was not beyond
recognition then, but they were beyond mine. I smelled her blood…that
was all I could think of. Untainted blood to quell my suffering.
I attacked her, killed her, and ate her. I do not know if I had
ever known such joy as that. The bones of my hands stilled their
unchecked growth and I felt no pain.

It did not last long. With my bloodlust
satisfied and pain eased, I held my sister’s half-eaten arm
in my mouth and gazed on my brother. I realized then what I had
done, and what I would do again. He was terrified, disgusted, and
so was I. But it made him ill… Me, I kept gnawing on her bones.
Somehow, I knew it was all I could do to hold onto my human body.
I had long black hair then, a face…my legs were not yet
malformed. Yet still, I knew, I was lost. I could consume my
family and any other perfect human to ease my pain and delay the
ultimate destruction of my body, but it would not save my soul.
My hair was soaked in blood; my face covered in gore, my legs
stood in the viscera of my kin.

In time, I did eat my brother. I am fortunate
Krelian never brought my son. My brother and sister were the only
tastes of delicious, untarnished human flesh I had, and when
there was nothing left of them but their dried lifeblood in my
hair and clothes, the mutations began again. I tried chewing off
my hair, hoping that there was enough purity left in the dry
blood to stop it, but to no avail. It hurt; the fire of it was
indescribable.

I howled for more flesh, but even in my agony,
I had enough wits left not to beg for my son.

Sometimes I wonder if any of the Wels Krelian
has given me to eat were friends of mine when I was human. I
wondered if I had ever met the Wels that I just finished eating.

More often, I wonder why Krelian keeps me, why
he still performs experiments on me. They used to hurt, but no
longer. I know what true pain is now, and I long for an escape.

After I had been given plenty of time to finish
the Wels, Krelian returned. “Come with me,” he said,
voice calm. It was not an unpleasant voice, I suppose. I followed
him. We entered a room full of small metal canisters; they
strongly resembled some of the processed food I used to eat when
I was human. Solarians almost never had fresh food to eat…an
irony that the first fresh meal I had was raw once-human. Krelian
picked one up and set it in my bone hand.

I used the other hand to stab it open. A quick
sniff confirmed the contents…somehow I already knew. The can
was packed with highly processed Wels flesh made to resemble some
vegetable. I actually laughed, so bitter was the knowledge. We
all ate Wels, humans and Wels alike. All of beautiful Solaris ate
mutated, disfigured, used up Wels.

“Why show me this?” I asked.

“You were always special. I thought you
deserved to know your fate.”

I suppose I could have attempted escape then…but…this
fate did not seem so bad. It was a fate, after all, a final
release from my grotesque and tormented body. Krelian took me to
a conveyor belt and I stepped on.

Elsa came by and stood next to Krelian. As the
conveyor moved me forward to my final rest, Elsa spoke to Krelian.
“So you’re done with him?”

“Yes,” he said. “I collected all
the data I was able. I was right, he was Animus.”

“There were no others?”

“No. The time hasn’t come yet. It was
a fascinating opportunity to study an Animus up close. I’ll
watch his descendants. I expect this Animus will turn up again.”

“Indeed. Hopefully it won’t be too
long before—”

That was the last I heard. The saws drowned out
Elsa’s voice. I spared no moment to wonder what an Animus
was; my last thoughts were for my son, Tsuguhiro. I wondered if
he would come to dine on his father someday, never realizing it.
I hoped he would never know. Not him, nor his children, nor his
children’s children.

And yet I could not bring myself to hate this
system. The saws would relieve me of my agony, and for that, I
would forever be grateful.

~ ~ ~

Citan helped the Nortune
gravediggers shovel dirt over the rough pine box containing the
remains of Redrum. Agreeing to do most of the work was the only
way he could guarantee the Wels would be interred properly. No
one else wanted to do it, and Citan had to drag the body out of
the sewers himself.

“Why are you doing this?” Fei asked,
confused. He couldn’t see any use in giving a monster a
burial fit for a human. Citan had even convinced a sister of
Nisan to oversee the interment and say the benedictions of her
religion for it.

Citan set the tip of his shovel in the grass
next to the gravesite and leaned on the handle. “Do not even
these pitiable creatures deserve some dignity?”

“But it’s just a monster! It killed
Rico’s henchmen and would have killed us, too.” Fei
shuddered hard. “The thing tried to eat me.”

The doctor adjusted his glasses. “Yes, it
did; it made the same attempt on me. I am sorry that I cannot
properly explain, Fei, but allow me this. Perhaps you will
understand someday.” Citan’s dark eyes were
uncharacteristically sad.

“All right, Doc. I just never expected to
be attending a funeral for a monster.” At some unknown
prompt, Fei took the monster’s bell from his pocket and
jingled it. The bell made a light tinkling sound. Fei looked at
the golden bell for a moment then put it away. When he glanced
back up at Citan, he was surprised to see the doctor wiping his
green sleeve across his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Fei,” Citan replied calmly,
only the slightest catch audible in his voice. “My hands
hurt. I am sure it is nothing serious and will go away shortly.”

“Oh.” Fei had the distinct feeling
his friend wasn’t telling him the whole truth, but he
didn’t want to press him. He didn’t remember ever
seeing Citan shed a tear. “Maybe it’s the shovel?”

“Perhaps. Yes, perhaps that is all it is.”

The End

Author’s note— I guess this is mostly
a Wels fic. I dunno if it’s a subject that gets much
coverage in Xenogears fic. Anyway…I don’t want to give
everything away, but I’m putting Satoru Ricdeau as having
lived about 150 – 200 years before Xenogears and that Citan
doesn’t remember him in any real way.