ESCAFLOWNE WEEK 2016, Day 5: BATTLEFIELD / DRACONIAN
Winged Witness
NOTE: Another Fanel family piece which may be read in relation to "A Day Untainted" though this can also stand alone. Once again, I explored Varie's perspective as well as played around with the show's mythos about Draconians, who have always been pretty mysterious and supernatural so there's a lot of potential there.
I've also invented a short meeting between Varie and Folken after he defects. I mean, if she can show herself to Hitomi, then maybe she can appear, even briefly, to her own son.
I wrote this while listening to "Sad, Strange Cello" and "Cradle Song" from the Escaflowne soundtrack because there's nothing like hauntingly beautiful music to get one going.
So this started out pretty sad, as such prompts are expected to. But I surprised myself at how hopeful it ended. I leave the interpretation of the final lines to you.
Hope you like this.
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She has seen it all.
Soaring through the sky, she has borne witness to all the joys and sorrows her children have endured even after she had left them. This is both blessing and burden of her Draconian heritage, being able to linger in the world as a spirit long after her body has been buried. Watching the lives of her loved ones unfold, but being unable to truly help them. And so Varie Fanel watched with both pride and sadness as her sons took very different paths.
And lately all she had been doing was flying from one combat zone to another, looking down sadly at the ruins of several kingdoms. She saw the destruction caused by a war in which her sons fought on opposite sides. She watched in horror as Fanelia was ravaged and she stood in the ashes of the land she had chosen to call her home.
Guymelefs viciously clashed against each other and she was grateful that Van had the protection of Escaflowne. Only this ancient armor would be able to withstand the attacks of his foes. And her younger son was a brave and skillful fighter. But he also had a gentle, compassionate heart and she hoped that he would not lose himself in the madness of war. She was glad that he was still surrounded by friends who truly loved him. Such protection was greater even than any Escaflowne could provide.
Varie wished she could have been proud of Folken's technological achievements but she could not, not when his work had put his brother in so much danger. She watched as her older son continued to blindly follow orders from his delusional Emperor.
She watched countless soldiers as they fell in the battles ahead, in Asturia, then, in Freid. Blood drenched the soil and corpses lined the fields. Noble and ancient structures were demolished before their time. And so many people fled their homes, trying to find places of greater safety.
She was devastated by what she witnessed but knew that destiny, no matter how harsh, must take its course. But she still mourned not just the fates of her beloved sons but also that of the world and how everything had reverted to a state of chaos and darkness.
But Varie also knew that even the darkest night would end and a new dawn would break.
.
.
.
Her eldest son stood before her in the wreckage of Fanelia, the ruins of their past life. He had spread his wings behind him and her heart broke when she saw that they had turned black.
"Forgive me, mother," Folken whispered, gazing at her forlornly.
She longed to take him into her arms as she used to, to comfort him and to reassure him that all was forgiven. But none of this was possible and all she could do was try to convey everything in her heart in her eyes.
Folken's gaze met hers and he understood at once. He looked at her gratefully but Varie saw that there was no measure of comfort she could provide that would ever be enough to assuage her broken son. He would never forgive himself for all he had done.
"There is still time," she said softly, "Speak to your brother."
"How can I face him after all of this?" Folken asked gravely.
"He will come if you send for him," she replied gently. Her son looked doubtful.
A soft breeze blew through his wings and a few feathers fluttered in the wind towards the glowing figure of his mother. Varie took one in her hand and Folken watched in amazement as the feather turned white again.
His mother smiled at him. "Have courage, my son. All is not yet lost."