Disclaimer: Escaflowne is the property of Sunrise and Bandai Entertainment. I do not own Escaflowne or its characters.

Warning: This an AU fic but it will have some elements of the Visions of Escaflowne in it, or it may be a continuation after the ending of the series. I don't know. Well,because I liked writing it so much, I've decided to make it into a story! Yay. But updates for this may take a while . . . since I'm still working on Ancient Feuds. But no worries! Have faith, readers of mine.

Summary: This story is Van's retelling of his first encounter with Hitomi. Van is the Prince of Darkness, owing that his wings enhance his demonic abilities. Loneliness is the price he paid to become the ultimate vampire. However, Hitomi comes along to Fanelia as a girl fresh from the glittering sea side of Palas, Asturia. Their encounter is a strange one and it is a night to remember. Sounds lame, but I suck at summaries.

Oasis of Memories

Chapter 1

Autumn Reflections

Van's cold, fiery eyes flitted across the image of his once beloved. He remembered every detail of her lovely face, hair, hands . . . In all his long dark years, she had been the steadily kindling light he had lost many hundreds of years ago. A ghost of a smile touched upon his lips as he thought of her kiss. Sadly, all he could do now was remember. Lost in his reverie, he didn't feel the timid little tug on the cuff of his black silk shirt. Van sighed and placed the picture frame on its face, hiding the smiling face of a lively green-eyed maiden.

"Father?" prodded a shy voice.

Van looked down into the pale face of his relatively young son. It was amazing how the genes of a vampire significantly slowed the aging process. To the eyes of any human, his son would look like a three year old toddler. But his actual age surpassed many of those in their prime-that is to say, humans. His son was 76 years old, but still terribly young for a creature of the dark.

"What is it, Rione?"

Rione made a face before continuing. "Miji peed on me again."

Van laughed. "Where is she? Tell her to come here."

"Okay." He ran off to another room and brought back his siser. Miji was 74 years old.

And Van himself? It had been so many years he had actually managed to lose count, but he was still considered relatively young compared to others that roamed the earth since the dawn of time.. "Come here, Miji."

Miji shot her brother a venomous look before walking slowly to Van.

"What have you to say for yourself?"

Miji opened her mouth and then before anything could happen, tears flowed from her large, brilliant brown eyes. "I-I'm sorry, Father. I was . . . was playing with Merle and forgot . . ."

"Merle, huh. Merle!" called Van.

When a large tiger entered the room, it slowly transformed into the shape of a tall young woman. The only properties of the feline the woman retained were the ears and tail. This she could not control. "What?" she said in an irritated voice.

"I believe you have something to explain."

"Alright, alright. I persuaded her to play a little longer with me even though she told me she had to go to the bathroom. And when she fell on Rione, well, you know what happened," Merle admitted in a grumpy voice. She scowled as Miji's howls filled the silent night. "Miji, you've certainly been living long enough to know when to stop crying."

"I'm sorry, Merle," Miji apologized behind the mischief tainting her innocent eyes.

"They're getting spoiled, Van," Merle remarked as she tossed her mane of hair to the side and grumpily left the room. Van knew she was going to another nap for the third time that day. She was so incredibly lazy sometimes.

"Why did you turn Mommy's picture upside down?" Rione asked quietly.

What was he going to tell his son? That it hurt him to look at her? Lying was inevitable. "It's upside down? I must've accidentally knocked it over when I was at the table. Here, let me put up again. There, see? You can look at Mommy again."

The look on Rione's face told Van that he wasn't convinced that the picture had fallen on accident. Van's hand had trembled as he stood the frame up properly. Oh gods, why am I so weak?

"Father, I feel icky," whined Miji.

The stench of Miji's urine violated his sensitive nostril. Van had forgotten Miji had pissed in her pants-and on Rione too. He grabbed Miji's small hand in his left and Rione's in his right. "Come on. Let's get you two cleaned up."

Once he got them in the tub, they demanded a heavenly bubble bath. As Van lathered Miji's long raven black hair, Rione tapped Van's arm with a very soapy finger. "Father, will you tell us how you and Mommy met?"

Van flinched and looked gravely down at his son. Rione had the very eyes and hair of her. His round emerald eyes looked at him the way she used to and his hair was the same soft fibers as hers. Van sometimes found it hard to look at his son and not be reminded of her. Damn, I can't even say her name in my thoughts. Miji pounced on Van, looking eager to hear the tale as well.

"Why? You've heard it many times before."

Rione's shoulders slumped. "I like hearing you talk of Mommy."

Miji nodded vigorously. "Me too."

"And it makes you smile. And makes us happy," he whispered softly, thinking that Van couldn't hear it. But he did and it saddened him that his children should notice that only this eased the pain in his heart. Were they sad, then, that they couldn't ease his pain?

Van pushed his pain aside and braved the task before him, as he had always done when they asked him to tell them his story. "Okay, I'll tell you."

"Yay!" exclaimed Miji. Van felt Miji suffered most because she had only been an infant, just a few months old, when Hitomi passed away. Van flinched at the mention of her name. There, I said it. It's been 74 years . . . I might as well get over it. Miji would never know how it felt like to love and be loved by Hitomi. She would never feel the burden of mortal grief on her tiny shoulders, and grew into a lively, boisterous child--much like Hitomi had been.

"Thank you," Rione murmured gratefully. Rione had been luckier. He had been two years old and able to retain some memories of her. But it was also harder for him to get over her death. For five years, it tortured Van to see him cry for his mother. Van was tormented night and day by Rione asking where she was. Slowly over the decades, he began to accept that she wasn't coming back and became a small, quiet child.

After their bath, Van led them to their bedroom and had them gather around him on the bed, one sibling tucked under each arm. They snuggled up against him, seeking the comfort only a mother could provide. "It was a long time ago, Rione . . . Miji. But I can still remember it as if it only happened yesterday. I was hungry and on the prowl . . . "

It was a full moon, filling up the night sky with its enormous illuminating shape. It shown brighter than all the stars put together. A pale, winged young man was seen flying over the cool ocean searching for a host to feed on. His moonlight white wings skimmed the glittering sea of Palas, Asturia. He was so hungry he thought he was going to faint.

As he neared the city, he could hardly contain himself and his blackened heart pounded like two sticks beating on a drum. But the only thing alive about him were his eyes. They burned like fire and danced with life. His lips trembled as he smelled the rich, sweet scent of warm human blood. He felt giddy at the thought of sinking his teeth into soft, supple flesh and plump veins, sucking the sweet nectar of life. His stomach growled in protest. "Almost there."

He landed inside a dark, abandoned alley between two taverns and dispersed his wings. Then, reaching over to a bag he had stowed there for such purposes, he pulled out a deep blood red shirt and pulled it over his smooth pale chest. His mind was now bent on feeding. He stepped out of the shadows of the alley and into the bustling night life of Asturia. There were freaks all over the streets on this side of the city . . . prostitutes (both male and female), gay men, stupid gang bangers, people thinking they were born as animals, etc.

"Van!" greeted a low, pleasant voice belonging to a long, blond haired man. "What are you doing in my territory?"

"I felt like stopping by. You got a problem?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," the man stated promptly.

Van laughed and slapped him on the back. "Allen, it's good to see you."

Allen laughed as well. "The feeling's mutual."

"Where's the feeding grounds around here? I'm starving."

"Well, it depends where you want to go. This very area you're standing in holds a large amount of very willing humans."

Van looked around in utter distaste. Allen, seeing this, added, "Or would you prefer to fight for your food."

Van laughed again. "You know me well, Allen."

"Well, pass by the giant statue and you'll find a number of village idiots. You would think they'd realize we exist after hearing of numerous, unexplained bite marks on victims's necks. But the look on their faces once they see you . . . You'll never have more fun in your life."

Van raised his eyebrow. "And here I thought you were a noble man."

Allen shrugged and winked. Van left Allen locking eyes with a few vulnerable looking humans, feeling weaker with hunger. His demonic abilities allowed him to move at astonishing speeds, and he reached the other side of the city without having wasted more than fifteen minutes. Van strolled lazily across the top of a stone wall and was sent flying to the ground as something large and heavy bulldozed him. His arm instinctively flew out to grace his landing. "What in the hell."

As he looked up he saw a young girl, rather woman, peer at him over the wall with an apologetic look on her face. Her eyes brightened as she discovered that he was unscathed by the encounter with her heavy laundry basket. "I'm sorry, homeless man."

Home . . . less . . . man . . . ? Did he look like one? He gave her a look, which she seemed to take as an encouragement to continue her apology.

"I'm sorry. It was my fault that the basket was violently thrown against your weak, malnourished body! But it wasn't entirely my fault. Miller--I mean someone wouldn't let me hang the linens up and then we ended up having a tug of war and . . . and . . . that was when that someone lost their grip and the basket went out of control. I apologize again."

Weak and malnourished is right. That was how he felt at the moment. He saw the flush in her face and heard the pumping blood flow like a current in her veins. It was all he could do to restrain himself from assailling her and ripping the tender flesh on her neck.

The girl had climbed over and was now picking up the scattered bed sheets on the ground and stuffing them back in the basket. She smiled at him and then paused as she looked closer at him. "You're so pale, mister. Would you like to come inside and have some dinner? You'll feel better. Oh! I'm such a bad person. I forgot to introduce myself first. I'm Hitomi Kanzaki, if you're wondering."

Talk about village idiot. She's stupider than a herd of cows. He decided to go with her, thinking that she would be easier to overtake without too much struggle. He nodded.

She smiled sweetly at him and thrust the basket into his hands. "You don't mind, do you? I'll just climb over and you can throw it to me."

Van smirked. She didn't seem to think that there was a high chance she might miss and the basket would crash down on her like a boulder. After she made it over, he threw the basket over and heard an oof! as she caught it. He heard her yell, "I got it!" And just for the hell of it, he jumped over the wall, hoping to scare the living day lights out of her. Unfortunately, she had her back turned to him. He sighed. What an effort gone to waste.

He couldn't take it any more. As soon as she turned around, Van grabbed her and brought his head down to her neck. But for some strange reason, he couldn't bring himself to bite her. When he tried, it felt like a rod of lightning had struck his brain. He tried and tried but no matter how many times he tried something was keeping him from biting her. His mind was reeling by now.

He heard her whimper at first and then she summed up her courage and kicked him in his most sensitive area. Even dead, he could still feel and never wanted to feel that again. He heard her run off screaming like a damn gorilla. (Here, Van paused wondering if it was appropriate to use such vulgar language in front of his children.)

By now, he was so desperate with hunger that as soon as he saw a cat cross his path, his hand shot out and eagerly lapped up its blood. Even though it gave him back his strength, he wasn't satisfied. Human blood tasted so much purer and it kept him full so much longer. Full of the scent of temptation. He was supposed to be able to get anything he wanted. For gods sake he was the Prince of Darkness, the one blessed and cursed. So why in the hell was he unable to bite her?

For days on end, perhaps a week--he didn't know, but for what seemed like a long stretch of time he tracked her movements. There was always that hope finding the reason why he could not feed off her, always that curiosity of why she could evade him like she did. But his efforts were rendered useless . . .

Van looked down at Rione and Miji and found that they had fallen asleep. A sad smile made its way to his lips as he gently stroke their hair and neatly tucked the blanket around them. And he lay with them, sleeping as if nothing would ever disturb them again.

A/N: It's been revised a little. Perhaps more changes will occur.