Grazing The Sky

Zidane sat on the edge of the double-bed, letting the anxiety pile up with each thought. Would this actually work, stretching his body until it was more than a foot taller? Would his disguise really be that simple?

Zidane curled his hand, balling up robe's crisscrossing fabric. With the unknown outcome on his mind again, his worry shot right back up. There were so many holes in this plan, so many ways they could be found out... What chance did they even have in succeeding?

The soft sound of footsteps pulled Zidane's stare ahead, towards the room's only doorway. Yittek met his stare as he passed through the entranceway. The Razalek stopped a handful of steps away from where Zidane sat, his free palm moving in the air and painting a slightly-transparent, wispy square into view. From the angle Zidane rested at, he could see through the portal—see the soft and almost sketchy reflection of the room's decorations, but the image was distorted when Yittek's hand disappeared through the strange image.

"New way to teleport?" Zidane asked as he withdrew a small object wrapped in white cloth.

Yittek smiled back at him, one hand rising to wave away the portal, the image disappearing into smoke upon contact. "It's in the process of development, yes." He started towards Zidane, raising the bundled object. "But this, in fact, is definitely complete."

With a quick pull to the cloth's end, the round object was revealed to be a squat, seemingly empty vial. Zidane hesitated, looking over the small container in an attempt to figure out exactly what Yittek's idea was. Yittek closed the distance in between them, standing on a spot besides Zidane as his hand unscrewed the long dark cap.

"I've named this little substance Brenji," the Razalek said with a smile, a thick brush appearing as it exited the jar. "A bit simple of a name, but its definition is precisely its effect."

Pull? Zidane thought. It's going to pull me?

A small pressure of uneasiness hovered against his stomach as he complied with Yittek's motion to lie down. Instantly upon making contact with the pillow, heaviness fell into him, a complete exhaustion that nearly shut his eyes. The thought of falling asleep, just for a few moments, waved through his mind, but the idea quickly evaporated. The nightmare was certain to come to him without Zooka here; he'd proved it too many times already.

Yittek came into view as he walked forward, his attention focused on stirring the brush inside the vial. "You won't feel anything at first, but soon after you'll feel small sequences of pain."

He leaned down, chin lifting. "Head up."

Zidane lifted his head and immediately felt a thin line of coldness run along the start of his neck. The substance... It didn't even feel like liquid, but instead it seemed to form inside of him, as if the brush were painting on the inside of his skin.

The cold pressure gradually became touched with weight as Zidane felt another stroke at the base of his neck. One much thicker, but only slightly more weighted than the first.

With a breath, the upper portion of his Razalek garments vanished and quick strokes met his arms and hands, the series ending with a thick line swiped down his torso's center. His clothing was replaced as a very thin chill sank into the tips of his fingers. One final set of strokes along his ankles and feet, and the quiet sound of the brush screwing back in its jar met Zidane's ears.

"It takes around a minute for the Brenji to surround the starting muscles," he heard Yittek say. "So try not to move during that time period."

What about after?

A short silence came between them, broken when Yittek spoke.

"You appeared... worried when I arrived."

"I am," Zidane said, voice a little stretched from his head being tilted so far back. He thought for a moment, eyes searching the ceiling, before giving a small sigh. "But I think I'm just a lot more afraid than worried."

"Ah..." The understanding in Yittek's voice was clear. "The uncertainty of what's to come. I understand, Zidane. But allow me this: would you rather still be pondering all this out, or be right where you are now?"

Zidane never answered; Yittek had known his response even before asking. A very small, soft smile formed at the corner of his lips, a deep appreciation of Yittek swelling in his c.h.e.s.t. It was something amazing, how Zidane could briefly mention something and the answer he needed to hear would be given without hesitation.

Zoo would be able to do that, too, he thought. If I could just let her in...

Pain jolted into his body, flexing his fingertips. He stifled a groan, his eyes shutting as his teeth clenched. The burn rose, earning a quiet wince, before stabilizing. Zidane could feel the spots where Yittek had painted move, the pressure against his inner-skin moving down in a wave of pain. Then, finally, when the wave reached the tips of his feet, the pain stopped.

The burning sensation still lingered, gradually subsiding to the point where Zidane could relax enough to open his eyes. Something about his position seemed different. The pillow. That was it; he was higher up on the pillow than before, which meant...

"How do you feel, Zidane?"

The crossbreed didn't answer, but instead slowly—very slowly—made his fingers crawl inwards towards his palm. Only a few nearly numb tinges of aching greeting him, most along his bicep. Could this have actually worked?

The question left his mouth quietly, and a light laugh greeted him.

"You can answer that for yourself now. Has the pain leveled enough to allow any movement?"

"I think so..." Zidane replied, bending his arms and his palms pushing against the bed, beginning to push him upright.

His movements instantly froze still as soon as his legs came into view. They were so much longer now, actually able to reach the end of the bed if his toes were pointed. Zidane's eyes followed a foot as it tilted then rolled into a circle, part of him still denying the fact that the Brenji had actually worked. That the first step in their plan had actually gone right.

His leg bent, sending sparks of pain into his knee, before he spun a little, legs draping off the edge of the bed. Except this time, his feet actually met the floor easily. Standing with a push of his legs, Zidane immediately felt himself start to lose balance. He regained it quickly, passing off the action as a brief wobble, and could feel Yittek's hand hovering behind him in preparation.