I Stand Accused
Hey! How are you? Nice to update again! *Sees readers with tomatoes in hand* Ummm…I cannot express my apology further, but this time I have a real reason. You see, I've been so busy with my schoolwork, because I found that my grades have dropped, and obviously I needed to improve. Also, I had to pack my belongings since we had to do this really big spring-cleaning. We had to fix the house up, because we've been living in it for a long time, and what's a comfortable house if it isn't repainted every few years? Anyways, I know that many of you are looking forward to the new chapter of my other story, Meant For Each Other, and I will update that soon, I promise! I blame myself for not updating for two months! I am so sorry! ^.^ Well, to get on a new topic, this story is just a one-chaptered story, so don't expect a continuation for this. I hope you like this story. Even though the beginning may be a little boring, please read on, because personally, I really like the last line. However, if you don't read the whole story, then you probably won't understand. Now, on to the disclaimer!
Disclaimer: Hey! Nice to see you again! To make this short, Escaflowne does not in any way belong to the writer of this story, because she obviously isn't good enough to create something that good. *Hears protest from author* Author: I know that I didn't create it, but must you be so cruel? Disclaimer: *Ignores author* In other words, none of the characters belong to her, but anything not found in the series, movies or anything merchandise and are of her own creation are hers. Story time!
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I Stand Accused
I, Van Slanzar de Fanel, am accused of various reasons. I have no counterstrikes, however, because I admit to these accusations. These crimes I committed. Though some of the claims may seem absurd, I have no shame, as I consider myself having done no wrong. They are all true. Yet, I will not attempt to repent myself, for I consider these accusations unselfish at all.
I am accused of being a Draconian. How can I change into something other than a Draconian, when I have already been born? I am not God. Just because I was born into an accursed clan does not mean I am a representative of the greedy People of Fate and must therefore suffer pain. Taking my own life is not an option I will consider, for that would be escaping from reality and its cruelty. Just because I am a Draconian does not derive me of rights to live a pleasant life. Nevertheless, my race is shunned by those unaccustomed to the unknown. Therefore, I hide my wings to prevent the discovery of my origin. To be found out results to being treated lowly, even if I was descended from the throne. I had planned never to expose my wings and to carry it to my grave. My idea changed drastically when the girl from the Mystic Moon was about to plummet to her death. Feathers sprang out of me, as I cling her, unconscious, close to my heart. To deny being a Draconian is like agreeing that my mother, Varie, had lured my father, Goau. It is similar to denying them of being my parents. I would rather be shamed than to consider them strangers.
I am accused of burning Fanelia, my home, to the bitter ground. Indirectly. No, not the kind where a ruler secretly plans to sell his country to the enemy in exchange for a prize or his own pathetic life. The type where a king brings a girl from an accursed place back with him. The simile here should be like bringing fire to a barn. They considered me guilty of the crime because I had brought an ill omen into our fair, lush country. The citizens of Fanelia have thought of me as the king whom they could depend on for safety. Heh, me their refuge. After their homes collapsed, they blamed anything that wasn't familiar. What reward. In this case, since I brought this misfortune, I am to be condemned, though it was of Zaibach's fault. Damn Zaibach scum.
That reminds me…I am accused of fouling Zaibach's malicious plans. How could I not, when it endangered so many precious lives? Before, I held no value to my life and was actually quite willing to die anywhere except in Zaibach's grasp. Anywhere, I would go, but never plead for mercy in front of my nemesis. Right before the end of the Great War, I messed up Dornkirk's goal to create a world of Fate. Even with my greatest strength, the average me couldn't have dented the Fate Alteration Machine; so how was it possible for me to penetrate through that shield to the girl of the Mystic Moon, whom I knew was trapped within the Zaibach palace? I care nothing for the answer, for life is full of mysteries. One doesn't need to understand everything. At least, I am no wise man. Just in a second, I had broken through Dornkirk's afterlife work. Fate, ha, I sneer at it.
I am accused of denying Merle's love. Isn't this a sensitive subject? I treat her as a faithful companion and as a sister. She cheers me on, during my gloomy moods. A friend is all. She sees me as a big brother also, even if she does not realize yet. Besides, how can I love Merle when I hold affection for another? Nonetheless, when she first picked up my unaltered feelings, I think she was heartbroken. She is young and strong in will: she will find another. Probably she feels she owes me gratitude, because of my family's kindness at adopting her. Perhaps, though, she really is in love with me; I regret how I cannot return her emotions. I will not attempt to tell her we can still be friends, because that would be like taking a knife and stabbing her. I knew it pains and leaks of hurt. Anyway, she knows she is still my best friend; we've known each other for this long for a lack of communication to turn out well.
I am accused of fighting in the Great War. The Destiny War. I flinch at the memory. The Destiny War was a ruthless massacre, performed after a man's dreams. That can be dangerous. Whoever took part in it has distanced from God. Oh my, the planet sinned. I killed to avenge my country; every scream then motivated me further to my destination, my goal. Killing to end killing, wasn't that the philosophy? No, that was Dornkirk's. I will not contaminate my mind with his unconcerned line of thinking. I will not repeat what he has done to my brother. These lives that I now held, bloodstains on my hands, are of my fault. This I admit to and am forever sorry for. However, I slaughtered to protect. Anyone who threatened those close to me will be denied their rights to survive. Heh, then I would have licked my dagger, ought I own one.
I am accused of growing bitter against Allen Schezar. More along the lines of jealousy. Of course, I would not be concerned with his womanly charms and his looks, for they had no significance for me. I prefer my own style, however bad it may be. What frustrates me is how he claimed the girl from the Mystic Moon's kiss. Though later on she realized her love for me, that gentle kiss in the rain does not slip one's mind so casually. It does not go unnoticed. Something that is especially hateful is how he owned her heart at the beginning, when I first met her. This hatred grew wild and bitter, like an apple, wormy. It was satisfying when I fought him, him in defense of his sister, Celena, and I fighting out of rage. Upon hearing his name, I would suppress my anger. So much madness clouding my eyes that I would side with Dryden, who loved Millerina, a princess of Asturia bewitched by Schezar's charms.
I am accused of my own ignorance. Several times I attempted to tell her of my feelings, only to change the topic, run away, or hastily replace it with something stupid. Around her, if I put up my guard, I appear cold and distant. Let my guard down, and one will see me as a reincarnation of stupidity and stutters. Oh, isn't it ironic? I would laugh my head off, except I've forgotten how. Because of my own ignorance, my beloved had been ripped away from me, only to be put, tattered, into Schezar's arms. Wouldn't I cry for joy? Some sarcasm for a penny? Heh. Trying to protect her from the stench of war, I had instead aroused her dislike of being overprotected. If I had not let her go, I would not have these regrets and pain. Yet I did and therefore I do. Maybe if I conversed more with her, our communication would be more fluent and would not lead to misunderstandings. I always end up being slapped. That's me, pig-headed, or so she says; I'll agree with her. Of all these crimes, they can all merge into one that I will gladly accept. Gladly. If only accepting this would bring her back. What I wouldn't do for just one more glimpse at that familiar distant pillar of light. Her emerald green staring into my brick red. She prefers calling them ruby red. All those accusations, seven or more, equals to one combined crime.
I am accused of loving Hitomi Kanzaki.
~End~
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Maniac bubblicous: Well, how was it? I know it's a little boring, maybe not just a little, but what did you think? I would like to know your honest criticism, please. Thanks for reading my story! Oh, and Van, you are NOT pig-headed, trust me. Please, give me your review. Thanks! Until next time! See you all! ^.~
Maniac bubblicous ^^~ ^@^
June 9, 2002
