EXIT TO GAEA : CHAPTER ONE
Chapter One : The New Kids At Zaibach And All Their Troubles
Author : Ahem, my first fic to Escaflowne, so be gentle, and NO Flamethrowers! Got it?!?! Good. By the way, if you are in love with Van or Allen I have two things to say to you - 1. Don't read this fic. 2. YOU HAVE A PROBLEM!!!
By the way, this is wacked out. Don't believe the personalities.
Gatti Logan peered out of the veranda to look at the sun's dying rays. He couldn't believe it. He was actually doing nothing, just watching the sun. Gatti was NOT one to waste time. He had business to do. Well, used to.
Maybe this was why he was acting so weird. It seemed over the summer, after his dad had left on a business trip (as he always did), everything broke down. He was the youngest person ever (and the richest ever, too), at the age of 15, to work as chairman for Cyberfield, a computer company literally dominating the world. It went well. But then, suddenly, the founder (Dornkirk Z. Cyberfield) disappeared! And Gatti found himself the president of Cyberfield.
Of course, you might say that wasn't bad at all. And it wasn't.
Until a computer virus somehow ignited and spread, decimating nearly half of the CyberInternet!
Gatti was shocked at how this could happen. The CyberInternet was watched by top-notch, state-of-the-art, security enforcers whom kept a careful eye on all viruses. But since everyone viewed him as a leader who kept calm and rarely changed facial expression, he didn't express what he wanted to say.
Then they had to lay off THOUSANDS of workers.
Then the President Of The United States sued.
His father probably didn't know. Yet. He was in Bosnia, organizing a peace treaty for the 'Atlantis War.' Gatti momentarily closed his eyes. He was dead as soon as his strict, no-nonsense, general of a father found out everything. Of course, none of the reasons so far were all that bad (thinking on VERY large terms).
He sighed and glared at the sun. Only one week till school started. That was the worst news. Not that Gatti was a bad student who hated school or anything, but his private school, Fernsdale, closed down because they needed to find a new principal ( the old principal died of unknown reasons). Instead, he would be going to the "worst, poorest kids" school - Zaibach.
Not only did they have the worst name in the world, but they also had a VERY scary and psycho principal - Dilandau S. Albatou. Everyone was scared of him. He terrorized the kids, frightened teachers out of their wits, and generally was a very imposing figure. Gatti casted worried eyes to the sky. It was bloodred.
I don't think I'll survive the year.
* * * * * *
Viore Veil kicked a can out of his way, then changed his mind, and crushed it. It was a lazy summer, and nothing happened except for a few minor scuffles with the Arrow gangs. He was going to a new foster family since he beat the last one's daughter up, but he didn't really care. She deserved it, he thought sourly. I'll track them down and beat them ALL up.
Viore reflected on whether he should change his last name since he was going to a new family. Not that he thought of them as a family. However, he liked the name ' Veil'. That was the name the gangs all called him. Probably because ' Veil' could be arranged two ways - ' evil' and ' vile'. He yawned and leaned against a graffiti-marked wall, brushing all thoughts of his last name from his mind.
Viore sneered inwardly at what the social worker had told him. He would be boarding at another school, Zaibach, where they said had a maniac fire-crazed principal.
Like hell. He snorted. I'll just cut class. No school or principal is gonna shove THIS kid in the classroom. And then that d@&! social worker told him that he'd be boarding with two other kids - a wimpy nerd kid who was too smart for his own good, and an expressionless zombie that was a president or something. At least he was rich.
Viore scowled. He was the leader of all the " Cobra" gangs - the big, tough gangs that were situated around the eastern side of Tokyo. He was widely feared, and hated, too, in most cases. But the social worker had said something about Zaibach that had caught his interest - " first-class gourmet cooking lessons". Viore never told anyone, but he was in love with cooking, and quite good at it too. Others would say he was a wimp if they knew, so he made sure no one knew.
That was he was going to Zaibach. And not only that, but there was sword-fighting lessons, and archery, lance, spears, etc. lessons too. Mr. Albatou was obsessed with weaponry skills. It would be easy to steal a few metal weapons in case a brawl started. Viore sighed. Looks like he had to go to school.
* * * * * *
Chesta Miller leaned against the rowan tree, shading his eyes from the glaring sun. He still wasn't done yet?
" Oh well," he said. The more he had to do, the better. It had been a bad crop last year, and the orphanage he had grew up in had been forced to cut rations. This year, however, he had put in an extra effort. It showed in the bountiful harvest.
Chesta had been orphaned at the age of one. Claudia, the caretaker, told him that she found him in the middle of a storm. When she opened the gate to the old abandoned Victorian mansion they used to live in, she had found Chesta as a baby in a cradle. It was a miracle he hadn't been blown away by the wind. They named him Chesta after the summer he had been found in - " Summer of The Golden Chestnut".
"Oniisan! Oniisan!" (Brother, brother!)
Chesta was jerked back from his memories. He turned around and grinned as a little girl with two pigtails bounded into his arms.
"Auntie Claudia wants to see you!" The girl said happily, hugging him. Then her voice dropped down an octave. "It's a surprise!"
Chesta tweaked her hair and stood up. " Well then, Aria, why don't you go play with Cassie?"
"Yay!" Aria winked at him, and then ran off to play with her best friend. Chesta walked into the two story building which now served as the orphanage. He thought sadly of the old mansion. It was old, and rickety, but fun to play in and look around. The city council had torn it down because they wanted to put some private school there. Fernsdale was its name.
Chesta looked around in the busy office for Claudia. He smiled and ran over when he saw her. The caretaker and founder of the orphanage was smiling also, but her expression was serious. " Chesta! How's the garden going?"
"Pretty good," Chesta's smile became wider. " I'm still not doing harvesting it yet, and I know I worked pretty fast!"
"That's good." Claudia suddenly reached into her desk and pulled out a folder, from which she took out a sheet of paper. " And I have some even better news. Look!"
Chesta's eyes widened as he read the paper. He had been accepted into Zaibach!
Claudia smirked at his expression. "And you got into top honors too! Your placement score went into the top ten!"
Chesta suddenly felt dizzy. He wasn't prepared for this! He had been accepted into a school. . . a real one, at least. He'd be boarding with two other students. " Oh wow. . . . this is amazing! Thank you so much, Claudia!"
"What do you mean?" Her eyebrows quirked up. " YOU were the one who took the test."
" But you signed me up for it!" Chesta grinned happily. He felt as if he could soar. But wait. . . Zaibach was a boarding school. He went down to earth immediately, mind numb. How could he have been so stupid?! Chesta had forgotten - the orphanage needed him.
"Gomennasai, Claudia. . . I can't."
"Wait do you mean you can't?!" Her voice sounded shocked. " It's your dream, Chesta!"
"But. . . but the orphanage. . ." Chesta looked down at his feet. " Joey, Aria, Cassie, Jake. . ."
Claudia chuckled all of a sudden, leaning back. " Don't worry, Chesta. You friend Guimel managed to get in, too. He's offered to send some workers to help around if you go. Something about a math homework debt."
It was Chesta's turn to laugh. He had done Guimel's math homework all year long last year. Chesta loved math - well, he loved everything, while Guimel hated math. Now the pressure was off of Chesta. He felt relieved, knowing that his " family" would be well off.
Claudia reached behind her chair and took out a duffel bag, enjoying the look of shock on Chesta's face. " Didn't you know school starts tomorrow? Best to be prepared!"
* * * * * *
"Swell." That was all Dalet Dorlian said when he heard the news.
"Swell."
Everyone expected him to go into a rant. Why did HE have to go with his brother to the same school? Dalet would yell. And all his servants would cower.
That was NOT what happened.
When he found out the news that he and Van were both going to Zaibach, he did not explode. Instead, he did something that was very scary. Beyond scary. He said, "Swell." Almost like he was glad.
Everyone knew the two brothers could not get along. They were TOO different. Van was likable - self-absorbed, arrogant - but likable. While Dalet was. . . well. . . CREEPY. The younger brother was constantly casted aside for Van; and everybody knew Dalet hated it.
Van gloated, and pretended that he had no idea that Dalet didn't want to live in his shadow. However, their distressed mother Marlene always made sure they were in separate schools.
Not this time.
Because Marlene Dorian, the elegant graceful angel, the desperate darling mother of two, was dead.
Of course, all the servants suspected Master Dalet of being involved somehow. It was easy to point an accusing finger at him. They secretly spoke to each other at night, secretly conversed and exchanged ideas. . .
None of them thought that it might not have been him. None of them knew that it was the exact opposite.
Dalet raised an unemotional face to the rumors. He didn't care that everyone thought that he belonged in a mental asylum or at least the jail. He didn't care that Van was bigger, stronger, and more popular than him. Dalet knew Van's weakness : his giant, over-inflated ego the size of the galaxy. He'd probably grow up to get in Star Trek, then horrify the cast by becoming a giant star, then he'd collapse within himself, and. . .
Dalet shook himself from his daydream. Back to the subject. Van would blunder; trip; fall - whatever you called it - one day, he knew. And Van did.
Dalet saw. He saw everything. Van had strangled their mother. Their own mother, who had raised and cared for them since their father could not. She was now at rest (though more likely thinking of revenge), alongside him.
Dalet had seen, with his own eyes, his own brother cold-bloodedly murder her. He had known Van had an interest in dragons, he just never knew he was one - a weak, spineless lizard.
He had heard with his own ears the last words she spoke, and the final shuddering breath. He even heard Van laugh, a maniacal cold laugh, making Dalet wonder who belonged in a mental institution more. He knew Van was after him next. Probably at Zaibach.
Marlene's last words were - " Gaea will kill you. If not, the one who is watching will."
Fortunately, Van thought she was just buying time and didn't believe anyone was watching. However, Dalet reflected, Van didn't seem surprised at all at the word ' Gaea'. In fact, he sounded just a teensy bit scared, though that probably was the wind. Van scared? Impossible.
The words brought a little comfort. Hardly enough to comfort him. Dalet lowered his head against another onslaught of tears. It hurt.
He was tired having to live under his brother's bigheaded shadow. Tired of living with a secret no one would believe if they knew anyway. Tired of waiting for revenge. Tired of everything, including his life. Great. Now not only am I a heartless nutcase, but a homicidal one, too.
Maybe he, Dalet, would actually find friends at Zaibach. Dalet gave a soft laugh - a short, mirthless one. No chance. He'd probably scare the guys who were boarding with him to death with one short, 50% functioning, glare. Wouldn't Van be so envious.
Now, though, his main target was revenge. He'd kill his brother - on fair terms, no cheating. And not with a gun or a tightening noose. With a sword.
Every student was required to take at least one course of weapon skills at Zaibach. Dalet had decided for sword-fighting - his brother would take the same thing just to make fun of Dalet. Van had better be good at swordplay, cause won't he be surprised.
* * * * * * *
//He was running, running, and running. Ahead of him was the gate back to the Mystic Moon, closing with every second. He urged himself faster - the dragon was right behind him! The dead eyes of a young boy with golden hair stared at him accusingly, clutching a pendant. Everywhere people - no, spirits - chanted,
"Run, run, run from the dragon! Run from Gaea and its Masked King. Run, run, run for your life. . . . . and never look back. . ."
He choked on the fumes of smoke. The gate - it was just ahead of him! A couple more feet and he would make it. . . .
Suddenly he stopped. A boy materialized, standing between him and the gate. More boys joined him, all looking at him.
"You make your own choice. . . you make your own destiny. . . but Gaea needs you. Stay!"
Images flooded around him. The Masked King was behind him, sitting in his savage white dragon, conquering lands, plundering homes, and stealing lives. Fire was everywhere! A catwoman. . . a shorthaired girl with an arrow . . .a knight with long hair. . .another girl with a ponytail. A boy with silver hair. . . A girl strangely like him, yet with brown hair. . and the golden-haired boy with the pendant. The scenes of fighting and slaying were awful. He turned away, trying to shut out the images. The boys in front of the gate were gone. He could finally go through!
But he stopped. He had a choice - leave Gaea forever and become a safe, normal boy in safe, normal surroundings, or stay in that dangerous, war-torn world with no guarantee that he'd come out alive. He couldn't make it. The Decision. He couldn't decide. . . .
A roar of laughter! "Too late!" The mask laughed. Suddenly, the gate closed, and all of Gaea turned black, as if a shadow had cloaked it and stifled out the fires. The Mask within the Dragon appeared again, but this time wielding a sword to strike. It came down - //
"HOOT!! HOOT! Hoot!"
Miguel Lavariel bolted up, drenched in sweat. He tossed aside the wet covers, thankful for the owl's call. The dream. . .
He had dreamed it for the past few days, but never had it felt so real or seemed so vivid! He cursed it and the nights, running a hand through his long side-swept silky bangs. " Oh man. . . Looks like I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight."
Miguel got up slowly, shivering despite the fact that the windows were closed and the heater was on. Maybe he should call Madison or Cassandra or Iris - they were his sisters. A few of them, anyway. Miguel had TWELVE sisters, and he was the only boy.
Miguel looked into the mirror. His face was pale; eyes haggard; and hair limp with sweat. He wondered how much hair conditioner could make it look shiny again. Tomorrow was the next day of school - well, actually, today. It was 4 A.M. in the morning. He'd be going to the first day of school in four hours.
Oh joy.
Miguel grinned ruefully. If only his giant fan-club could see him now. They'd probably think someone abducted him and put an alien who was certainly NOT Miguel Ithoia Lavariel. Maybe it was just the moonlight - it was full moon, the soft white light streaking through the curtain to the mirror. Full moon could do crazy things to people, he decided. A lone owl's hoot (Would it EVER stop hooting?!) broke through the freezing night. Winter had come early this year.
"Maybe it's cause I have to go to school tomorrow and face the psycho principal." Miguel tried to make himself laugh. It was usually easy, but today - well, tonight - seemed strange. Weird, as if someone had separated the world from him, and what he saw wasn't Tokyo, but just a 3-d image. It was too calm; too normal. Something was going to happen. Something big.
"Yeah - go to school tomorrow." That didn't sound big enough, or weird enough. Except for the principal.
"Uh - all the girls at Zaibach will fall for a different guy that's even cuter than little old me?" Miguel grinned. Nah. That could never happen in a gazillion years, even if Godzilla came to town. Besides, it wasn't ominous enough.
"Wait a second. . . why am I even trying to guess?" He stared in the mirror. "Yup, I've finally cracked."
Because behind him, Miguel Ithoia Lavariel, was a sword. Floating in midair.
Miguel started talking to himself, trying to calm his jumping nerves. " Okay, okay, Guimel, you can stop the prank now. I'm scared - by the way, where'd you get the sword?"
He turned around slowly. The sword was still there. Miguel carefully, cautiously approached it. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
The sword's tip rose so that the sword was now horizontal, pointing at him. Miguel froze. Oh SHIT.
It was dripping liquid. Red liquid. Like fire. Like blood. And it was writing. It wrote,
ESCAFLOWNE
Miguel screamed, and bolted out his room, heading for his friend' s (Guimel's) room. Escaflowne - what did it mean?
Guimel woke, hearing a scream. His eyes widened. "Oh my god - Miguel!"
He hurriedly grabbed his pink bunny slippers, when the door slammed open, and a heavily panting boy ran in. Guimel jumped back, startled.
"Er. . . Miguel? What's wrong?"
Miguel was gasping for air furiously, coughing and sweating as if he had just tried to break the world record for track. Guimel cautiously approached him, but Miguel pushed him aside. "Sword. . .b-blood. . . . Esca- Escaflowne!"
Guimel stared at him in amazement. Escaflowne? How does Miguel know, and how does it fit in with this scene? Escaflowne was, he remembered, a legendary white dragon in Norse myth. It was said to bring death and destruction wherever it went. The only person who could control it was someone whose soul was pure evil, with a heart of black stone. Then that person would. . . would. . .
Ugh! I can't remember! Why didn't I pay more attention on my history project?!
Miguel had locked the door. He was now sitting on the floor, back against it, still trying to catch his breath.
"Miguel. . . Where'd you hear of Escaflowne?"
Miguel's head snapped up at hearing the words. He shook his head. ". . . You *pant* wouldn't *pant, pant* believe me if *shudder* I told. . ."
"No, seriously." Guimel put his hands on his hips and tried to look intimidating. "I. Want. To. Know."
Miguel sighed, calmed down. He stood up and walked over to the other side of the door, and pressed his ear against it. "Coast clear, I think. Well, there was a sw-"
Slice! PING!
The sword came flying through the door! Guimel yelped and dove down. The sword left a slit in the middle, just inches from Miguel, though somehow he didn't notice. His eyes were riveted on the far wall. Well, not the far wall, but the chilling bloodred word written there.
THE MASKED KING
Guimel could only stare at it in shock, frozen to the spot. The Masked King? Who - or what - was that? And how could a sword do THAT?! "I - it. . . ."
"I saw the same thing." Miguel whispered. It was as if sound was forbidden, and the two boys could only whisper. He tried to keep his face calm so that Guimel wouldn't notice, but a thousand things were rushing through his mind at the same time. Oh my god. . . This doesn't make sense! No, it does. . . And that's what scares me. Those dreams. . . The Masked King's the evil guy! Then what's Escaflowne? He slowly crept to his feet to help Guimel back up.
"Guimel, what's Escaflowne?"
Guimel took a few deep breaths. He explained about the legend. "Sorry, Miguel. That's the only Escaflowne I know. I guess it doesn't make much sense. . . but then again, this whole thing isn't making much sense either!"
"Yeah. . it doesn't make much sense. ." Miguel murmured. Inside, he was exploding. A WHITE DRAGON! This is perfect! That's the dragon I saw in my dreams. . . and the Masked King's the guy in league with it! Okay, so I've figured that part out. . . but what does a sword have to do with the dream? And why has the whole world gone insane, who CARES about some dream plus a creepy sword, and I'm not superstitious!
"Should we tell anyone?"
Miguel's head snapped up, thoughts instantly scattered. He shook his head. "NO. No one will know except us. Just be normal and pretend nothing has happened."
Guimel glanced curiously at Miguel. He appeared in deep thought, oblivious to everything around him. I'll bet my bunny slippers that Miguel knows something that I don't know. And it's big, and has something to do with that sword and the words. However, I still can't piece together 'Escaflowne' and 'The Masked King'. Perhaps the Masked King's the evil guy? Whatever. I guess I'll leave it to Miguel. "Thank God we're going to school tomorrow."
"Don't." Miguel's voice was like steel. "Something bigger and worse will happen at school. I'm sure of it. This is only the beginning."
Why is Miguel acting like this? He's always so open and friendly. That I'll bet even my favorite poochy earmuffs! "Oh no - Dalet!"
"What do you mean, 'Dalet'?"
"Three people in one room. Some guy named Dalet Dorlian is our third boarder. That means if this . . .um, event happens again at school, he would know too!"
Miguel shrugged, starting to act like his old self (much to Guimel's relief). "We're not sure the SAME thing will happen. Besides, if three people know, who cares? It's not like this thing would hold much importance anyway. It's just some prank kids' fault."
"Well. . ." Guimel frowned. He didn't think it was a prank, and he did think it was of at least some concern. But hey, who was he to say?
"DRRRIIIIIINNGG! DDRRRRIIIIINNNGGG!!!" The telephone caused the both of them to jump. Miguel mentally thanked the house for being fashioned so old the walls blocked off sound. However, while they were talking, he had opened the door so he could hear anything downstairs.
"I'll get it." Miguel quietly walked down the steps. Guimel followed, trying not to notice that the moonlight casted shadows. He gulped.
Miguel picked up the phone. "Hello?"
A loud, nasty tone of a very rude person (she had to be rude to call so early and shout like that) answered. "It's Millerna. Have you given me your answer yet?"
Miguel's mood suddenly darkened. He waved off Guimel who was mouthing to him, 'What Answer?' . "Mrs. Schezar, we have said again and again that we will not even CONSIDER your offer. Especially since you ran over Hazel's car."
"She called me a nasty no-good nosy nitwit!"
"Mrs. Schezar, you are one."
"Being smart, huh? Like your IDIOT parents! Let me remind you Mr. Lavariel, that eight of your sisters have gone to college and being the smart-alecks they are, not ALL of them received scholarships! I have a very good offer -"
"Which we will not consider."
There was audible muttering about stupid kids with even more stupid parents, and then there was a very loud "click". Miguel sighed, and hanged up.
Guimel decided to leave him alone. Besides, he was sleepy. "Well, Miguel, I'm going upstairs to -"
"Oh no." Miguel's face was pale white.
Guimel tensed, ready to bolt. "W-what's the matter?"
"WE'RE GONNA BE LATE TO SCHHHOOOOOLLL!!!!!!"
Chapter One : The New Kids At Zaibach And All Their Troubles
Author : Ahem, my first fic to Escaflowne, so be gentle, and NO Flamethrowers! Got it?!?! Good. By the way, if you are in love with Van or Allen I have two things to say to you - 1. Don't read this fic. 2. YOU HAVE A PROBLEM!!!
By the way, this is wacked out. Don't believe the personalities.
Gatti Logan peered out of the veranda to look at the sun's dying rays. He couldn't believe it. He was actually doing nothing, just watching the sun. Gatti was NOT one to waste time. He had business to do. Well, used to.
Maybe this was why he was acting so weird. It seemed over the summer, after his dad had left on a business trip (as he always did), everything broke down. He was the youngest person ever (and the richest ever, too), at the age of 15, to work as chairman for Cyberfield, a computer company literally dominating the world. It went well. But then, suddenly, the founder (Dornkirk Z. Cyberfield) disappeared! And Gatti found himself the president of Cyberfield.
Of course, you might say that wasn't bad at all. And it wasn't.
Until a computer virus somehow ignited and spread, decimating nearly half of the CyberInternet!
Gatti was shocked at how this could happen. The CyberInternet was watched by top-notch, state-of-the-art, security enforcers whom kept a careful eye on all viruses. But since everyone viewed him as a leader who kept calm and rarely changed facial expression, he didn't express what he wanted to say.
Then they had to lay off THOUSANDS of workers.
Then the President Of The United States sued.
His father probably didn't know. Yet. He was in Bosnia, organizing a peace treaty for the 'Atlantis War.' Gatti momentarily closed his eyes. He was dead as soon as his strict, no-nonsense, general of a father found out everything. Of course, none of the reasons so far were all that bad (thinking on VERY large terms).
He sighed and glared at the sun. Only one week till school started. That was the worst news. Not that Gatti was a bad student who hated school or anything, but his private school, Fernsdale, closed down because they needed to find a new principal ( the old principal died of unknown reasons). Instead, he would be going to the "worst, poorest kids" school - Zaibach.
Not only did they have the worst name in the world, but they also had a VERY scary and psycho principal - Dilandau S. Albatou. Everyone was scared of him. He terrorized the kids, frightened teachers out of their wits, and generally was a very imposing figure. Gatti casted worried eyes to the sky. It was bloodred.
I don't think I'll survive the year.
* * * * * *
Viore Veil kicked a can out of his way, then changed his mind, and crushed it. It was a lazy summer, and nothing happened except for a few minor scuffles with the Arrow gangs. He was going to a new foster family since he beat the last one's daughter up, but he didn't really care. She deserved it, he thought sourly. I'll track them down and beat them ALL up.
Viore reflected on whether he should change his last name since he was going to a new family. Not that he thought of them as a family. However, he liked the name ' Veil'. That was the name the gangs all called him. Probably because ' Veil' could be arranged two ways - ' evil' and ' vile'. He yawned and leaned against a graffiti-marked wall, brushing all thoughts of his last name from his mind.
Viore sneered inwardly at what the social worker had told him. He would be boarding at another school, Zaibach, where they said had a maniac fire-crazed principal.
Like hell. He snorted. I'll just cut class. No school or principal is gonna shove THIS kid in the classroom. And then that d@&! social worker told him that he'd be boarding with two other kids - a wimpy nerd kid who was too smart for his own good, and an expressionless zombie that was a president or something. At least he was rich.
Viore scowled. He was the leader of all the " Cobra" gangs - the big, tough gangs that were situated around the eastern side of Tokyo. He was widely feared, and hated, too, in most cases. But the social worker had said something about Zaibach that had caught his interest - " first-class gourmet cooking lessons". Viore never told anyone, but he was in love with cooking, and quite good at it too. Others would say he was a wimp if they knew, so he made sure no one knew.
That was he was going to Zaibach. And not only that, but there was sword-fighting lessons, and archery, lance, spears, etc. lessons too. Mr. Albatou was obsessed with weaponry skills. It would be easy to steal a few metal weapons in case a brawl started. Viore sighed. Looks like he had to go to school.
* * * * * *
Chesta Miller leaned against the rowan tree, shading his eyes from the glaring sun. He still wasn't done yet?
" Oh well," he said. The more he had to do, the better. It had been a bad crop last year, and the orphanage he had grew up in had been forced to cut rations. This year, however, he had put in an extra effort. It showed in the bountiful harvest.
Chesta had been orphaned at the age of one. Claudia, the caretaker, told him that she found him in the middle of a storm. When she opened the gate to the old abandoned Victorian mansion they used to live in, she had found Chesta as a baby in a cradle. It was a miracle he hadn't been blown away by the wind. They named him Chesta after the summer he had been found in - " Summer of The Golden Chestnut".
"Oniisan! Oniisan!" (Brother, brother!)
Chesta was jerked back from his memories. He turned around and grinned as a little girl with two pigtails bounded into his arms.
"Auntie Claudia wants to see you!" The girl said happily, hugging him. Then her voice dropped down an octave. "It's a surprise!"
Chesta tweaked her hair and stood up. " Well then, Aria, why don't you go play with Cassie?"
"Yay!" Aria winked at him, and then ran off to play with her best friend. Chesta walked into the two story building which now served as the orphanage. He thought sadly of the old mansion. It was old, and rickety, but fun to play in and look around. The city council had torn it down because they wanted to put some private school there. Fernsdale was its name.
Chesta looked around in the busy office for Claudia. He smiled and ran over when he saw her. The caretaker and founder of the orphanage was smiling also, but her expression was serious. " Chesta! How's the garden going?"
"Pretty good," Chesta's smile became wider. " I'm still not doing harvesting it yet, and I know I worked pretty fast!"
"That's good." Claudia suddenly reached into her desk and pulled out a folder, from which she took out a sheet of paper. " And I have some even better news. Look!"
Chesta's eyes widened as he read the paper. He had been accepted into Zaibach!
Claudia smirked at his expression. "And you got into top honors too! Your placement score went into the top ten!"
Chesta suddenly felt dizzy. He wasn't prepared for this! He had been accepted into a school. . . a real one, at least. He'd be boarding with two other students. " Oh wow. . . . this is amazing! Thank you so much, Claudia!"
"What do you mean?" Her eyebrows quirked up. " YOU were the one who took the test."
" But you signed me up for it!" Chesta grinned happily. He felt as if he could soar. But wait. . . Zaibach was a boarding school. He went down to earth immediately, mind numb. How could he have been so stupid?! Chesta had forgotten - the orphanage needed him.
"Gomennasai, Claudia. . . I can't."
"Wait do you mean you can't?!" Her voice sounded shocked. " It's your dream, Chesta!"
"But. . . but the orphanage. . ." Chesta looked down at his feet. " Joey, Aria, Cassie, Jake. . ."
Claudia chuckled all of a sudden, leaning back. " Don't worry, Chesta. You friend Guimel managed to get in, too. He's offered to send some workers to help around if you go. Something about a math homework debt."
It was Chesta's turn to laugh. He had done Guimel's math homework all year long last year. Chesta loved math - well, he loved everything, while Guimel hated math. Now the pressure was off of Chesta. He felt relieved, knowing that his " family" would be well off.
Claudia reached behind her chair and took out a duffel bag, enjoying the look of shock on Chesta's face. " Didn't you know school starts tomorrow? Best to be prepared!"
* * * * * *
"Swell." That was all Dalet Dorlian said when he heard the news.
"Swell."
Everyone expected him to go into a rant. Why did HE have to go with his brother to the same school? Dalet would yell. And all his servants would cower.
That was NOT what happened.
When he found out the news that he and Van were both going to Zaibach, he did not explode. Instead, he did something that was very scary. Beyond scary. He said, "Swell." Almost like he was glad.
Everyone knew the two brothers could not get along. They were TOO different. Van was likable - self-absorbed, arrogant - but likable. While Dalet was. . . well. . . CREEPY. The younger brother was constantly casted aside for Van; and everybody knew Dalet hated it.
Van gloated, and pretended that he had no idea that Dalet didn't want to live in his shadow. However, their distressed mother Marlene always made sure they were in separate schools.
Not this time.
Because Marlene Dorian, the elegant graceful angel, the desperate darling mother of two, was dead.
Of course, all the servants suspected Master Dalet of being involved somehow. It was easy to point an accusing finger at him. They secretly spoke to each other at night, secretly conversed and exchanged ideas. . .
None of them thought that it might not have been him. None of them knew that it was the exact opposite.
Dalet raised an unemotional face to the rumors. He didn't care that everyone thought that he belonged in a mental asylum or at least the jail. He didn't care that Van was bigger, stronger, and more popular than him. Dalet knew Van's weakness : his giant, over-inflated ego the size of the galaxy. He'd probably grow up to get in Star Trek, then horrify the cast by becoming a giant star, then he'd collapse within himself, and. . .
Dalet shook himself from his daydream. Back to the subject. Van would blunder; trip; fall - whatever you called it - one day, he knew. And Van did.
Dalet saw. He saw everything. Van had strangled their mother. Their own mother, who had raised and cared for them since their father could not. She was now at rest (though more likely thinking of revenge), alongside him.
Dalet had seen, with his own eyes, his own brother cold-bloodedly murder her. He had known Van had an interest in dragons, he just never knew he was one - a weak, spineless lizard.
He had heard with his own ears the last words she spoke, and the final shuddering breath. He even heard Van laugh, a maniacal cold laugh, making Dalet wonder who belonged in a mental institution more. He knew Van was after him next. Probably at Zaibach.
Marlene's last words were - " Gaea will kill you. If not, the one who is watching will."
Fortunately, Van thought she was just buying time and didn't believe anyone was watching. However, Dalet reflected, Van didn't seem surprised at all at the word ' Gaea'. In fact, he sounded just a teensy bit scared, though that probably was the wind. Van scared? Impossible.
The words brought a little comfort. Hardly enough to comfort him. Dalet lowered his head against another onslaught of tears. It hurt.
He was tired having to live under his brother's bigheaded shadow. Tired of living with a secret no one would believe if they knew anyway. Tired of waiting for revenge. Tired of everything, including his life. Great. Now not only am I a heartless nutcase, but a homicidal one, too.
Maybe he, Dalet, would actually find friends at Zaibach. Dalet gave a soft laugh - a short, mirthless one. No chance. He'd probably scare the guys who were boarding with him to death with one short, 50% functioning, glare. Wouldn't Van be so envious.
Now, though, his main target was revenge. He'd kill his brother - on fair terms, no cheating. And not with a gun or a tightening noose. With a sword.
Every student was required to take at least one course of weapon skills at Zaibach. Dalet had decided for sword-fighting - his brother would take the same thing just to make fun of Dalet. Van had better be good at swordplay, cause won't he be surprised.
* * * * * * *
//He was running, running, and running. Ahead of him was the gate back to the Mystic Moon, closing with every second. He urged himself faster - the dragon was right behind him! The dead eyes of a young boy with golden hair stared at him accusingly, clutching a pendant. Everywhere people - no, spirits - chanted,
"Run, run, run from the dragon! Run from Gaea and its Masked King. Run, run, run for your life. . . . . and never look back. . ."
He choked on the fumes of smoke. The gate - it was just ahead of him! A couple more feet and he would make it. . . .
Suddenly he stopped. A boy materialized, standing between him and the gate. More boys joined him, all looking at him.
"You make your own choice. . . you make your own destiny. . . but Gaea needs you. Stay!"
Images flooded around him. The Masked King was behind him, sitting in his savage white dragon, conquering lands, plundering homes, and stealing lives. Fire was everywhere! A catwoman. . . a shorthaired girl with an arrow . . .a knight with long hair. . .another girl with a ponytail. A boy with silver hair. . . A girl strangely like him, yet with brown hair. . and the golden-haired boy with the pendant. The scenes of fighting and slaying were awful. He turned away, trying to shut out the images. The boys in front of the gate were gone. He could finally go through!
But he stopped. He had a choice - leave Gaea forever and become a safe, normal boy in safe, normal surroundings, or stay in that dangerous, war-torn world with no guarantee that he'd come out alive. He couldn't make it. The Decision. He couldn't decide. . . .
A roar of laughter! "Too late!" The mask laughed. Suddenly, the gate closed, and all of Gaea turned black, as if a shadow had cloaked it and stifled out the fires. The Mask within the Dragon appeared again, but this time wielding a sword to strike. It came down - //
"HOOT!! HOOT! Hoot!"
Miguel Lavariel bolted up, drenched in sweat. He tossed aside the wet covers, thankful for the owl's call. The dream. . .
He had dreamed it for the past few days, but never had it felt so real or seemed so vivid! He cursed it and the nights, running a hand through his long side-swept silky bangs. " Oh man. . . Looks like I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight."
Miguel got up slowly, shivering despite the fact that the windows were closed and the heater was on. Maybe he should call Madison or Cassandra or Iris - they were his sisters. A few of them, anyway. Miguel had TWELVE sisters, and he was the only boy.
Miguel looked into the mirror. His face was pale; eyes haggard; and hair limp with sweat. He wondered how much hair conditioner could make it look shiny again. Tomorrow was the next day of school - well, actually, today. It was 4 A.M. in the morning. He'd be going to the first day of school in four hours.
Oh joy.
Miguel grinned ruefully. If only his giant fan-club could see him now. They'd probably think someone abducted him and put an alien who was certainly NOT Miguel Ithoia Lavariel. Maybe it was just the moonlight - it was full moon, the soft white light streaking through the curtain to the mirror. Full moon could do crazy things to people, he decided. A lone owl's hoot (Would it EVER stop hooting?!) broke through the freezing night. Winter had come early this year.
"Maybe it's cause I have to go to school tomorrow and face the psycho principal." Miguel tried to make himself laugh. It was usually easy, but today - well, tonight - seemed strange. Weird, as if someone had separated the world from him, and what he saw wasn't Tokyo, but just a 3-d image. It was too calm; too normal. Something was going to happen. Something big.
"Yeah - go to school tomorrow." That didn't sound big enough, or weird enough. Except for the principal.
"Uh - all the girls at Zaibach will fall for a different guy that's even cuter than little old me?" Miguel grinned. Nah. That could never happen in a gazillion years, even if Godzilla came to town. Besides, it wasn't ominous enough.
"Wait a second. . . why am I even trying to guess?" He stared in the mirror. "Yup, I've finally cracked."
Because behind him, Miguel Ithoia Lavariel, was a sword. Floating in midair.
Miguel started talking to himself, trying to calm his jumping nerves. " Okay, okay, Guimel, you can stop the prank now. I'm scared - by the way, where'd you get the sword?"
He turned around slowly. The sword was still there. Miguel carefully, cautiously approached it. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
The sword's tip rose so that the sword was now horizontal, pointing at him. Miguel froze. Oh SHIT.
It was dripping liquid. Red liquid. Like fire. Like blood. And it was writing. It wrote,
ESCAFLOWNE
Miguel screamed, and bolted out his room, heading for his friend' s (Guimel's) room. Escaflowne - what did it mean?
Guimel woke, hearing a scream. His eyes widened. "Oh my god - Miguel!"
He hurriedly grabbed his pink bunny slippers, when the door slammed open, and a heavily panting boy ran in. Guimel jumped back, startled.
"Er. . . Miguel? What's wrong?"
Miguel was gasping for air furiously, coughing and sweating as if he had just tried to break the world record for track. Guimel cautiously approached him, but Miguel pushed him aside. "Sword. . .b-blood. . . . Esca- Escaflowne!"
Guimel stared at him in amazement. Escaflowne? How does Miguel know, and how does it fit in with this scene? Escaflowne was, he remembered, a legendary white dragon in Norse myth. It was said to bring death and destruction wherever it went. The only person who could control it was someone whose soul was pure evil, with a heart of black stone. Then that person would. . . would. . .
Ugh! I can't remember! Why didn't I pay more attention on my history project?!
Miguel had locked the door. He was now sitting on the floor, back against it, still trying to catch his breath.
"Miguel. . . Where'd you hear of Escaflowne?"
Miguel's head snapped up at hearing the words. He shook his head. ". . . You *pant* wouldn't *pant, pant* believe me if *shudder* I told. . ."
"No, seriously." Guimel put his hands on his hips and tried to look intimidating. "I. Want. To. Know."
Miguel sighed, calmed down. He stood up and walked over to the other side of the door, and pressed his ear against it. "Coast clear, I think. Well, there was a sw-"
Slice! PING!
The sword came flying through the door! Guimel yelped and dove down. The sword left a slit in the middle, just inches from Miguel, though somehow he didn't notice. His eyes were riveted on the far wall. Well, not the far wall, but the chilling bloodred word written there.
THE MASKED KING
Guimel could only stare at it in shock, frozen to the spot. The Masked King? Who - or what - was that? And how could a sword do THAT?! "I - it. . . ."
"I saw the same thing." Miguel whispered. It was as if sound was forbidden, and the two boys could only whisper. He tried to keep his face calm so that Guimel wouldn't notice, but a thousand things were rushing through his mind at the same time. Oh my god. . . This doesn't make sense! No, it does. . . And that's what scares me. Those dreams. . . The Masked King's the evil guy! Then what's Escaflowne? He slowly crept to his feet to help Guimel back up.
"Guimel, what's Escaflowne?"
Guimel took a few deep breaths. He explained about the legend. "Sorry, Miguel. That's the only Escaflowne I know. I guess it doesn't make much sense. . . but then again, this whole thing isn't making much sense either!"
"Yeah. . it doesn't make much sense. ." Miguel murmured. Inside, he was exploding. A WHITE DRAGON! This is perfect! That's the dragon I saw in my dreams. . . and the Masked King's the guy in league with it! Okay, so I've figured that part out. . . but what does a sword have to do with the dream? And why has the whole world gone insane, who CARES about some dream plus a creepy sword, and I'm not superstitious!
"Should we tell anyone?"
Miguel's head snapped up, thoughts instantly scattered. He shook his head. "NO. No one will know except us. Just be normal and pretend nothing has happened."
Guimel glanced curiously at Miguel. He appeared in deep thought, oblivious to everything around him. I'll bet my bunny slippers that Miguel knows something that I don't know. And it's big, and has something to do with that sword and the words. However, I still can't piece together 'Escaflowne' and 'The Masked King'. Perhaps the Masked King's the evil guy? Whatever. I guess I'll leave it to Miguel. "Thank God we're going to school tomorrow."
"Don't." Miguel's voice was like steel. "Something bigger and worse will happen at school. I'm sure of it. This is only the beginning."
Why is Miguel acting like this? He's always so open and friendly. That I'll bet even my favorite poochy earmuffs! "Oh no - Dalet!"
"What do you mean, 'Dalet'?"
"Three people in one room. Some guy named Dalet Dorlian is our third boarder. That means if this . . .um, event happens again at school, he would know too!"
Miguel shrugged, starting to act like his old self (much to Guimel's relief). "We're not sure the SAME thing will happen. Besides, if three people know, who cares? It's not like this thing would hold much importance anyway. It's just some prank kids' fault."
"Well. . ." Guimel frowned. He didn't think it was a prank, and he did think it was of at least some concern. But hey, who was he to say?
"DRRRIIIIIINNGG! DDRRRRIIIIINNNGGG!!!" The telephone caused the both of them to jump. Miguel mentally thanked the house for being fashioned so old the walls blocked off sound. However, while they were talking, he had opened the door so he could hear anything downstairs.
"I'll get it." Miguel quietly walked down the steps. Guimel followed, trying not to notice that the moonlight casted shadows. He gulped.
Miguel picked up the phone. "Hello?"
A loud, nasty tone of a very rude person (she had to be rude to call so early and shout like that) answered. "It's Millerna. Have you given me your answer yet?"
Miguel's mood suddenly darkened. He waved off Guimel who was mouthing to him, 'What Answer?' . "Mrs. Schezar, we have said again and again that we will not even CONSIDER your offer. Especially since you ran over Hazel's car."
"She called me a nasty no-good nosy nitwit!"
"Mrs. Schezar, you are one."
"Being smart, huh? Like your IDIOT parents! Let me remind you Mr. Lavariel, that eight of your sisters have gone to college and being the smart-alecks they are, not ALL of them received scholarships! I have a very good offer -"
"Which we will not consider."
There was audible muttering about stupid kids with even more stupid parents, and then there was a very loud "click". Miguel sighed, and hanged up.
Guimel decided to leave him alone. Besides, he was sleepy. "Well, Miguel, I'm going upstairs to -"
"Oh no." Miguel's face was pale white.
Guimel tensed, ready to bolt. "W-what's the matter?"
"WE'RE GONNA BE LATE TO SCHHHOOOOOLLL!!!!!!"