"No Lord Dilandau! Turn back into Celena! Turn back into that gentle Cele…"
My guymelef imploded around me. The liquid metal shot forward in a boiling scream engulfing my entire body, burning my skin under the sizzling layer of fur. My head was held back against the rest behind me by the pressure and somewhere near my ear I heard a sickening crack. The directional devices that the arms were to be slipped into were crushed by Fanel's mighty blow. The sharp pieces of iron and steel dug into my flesh and I tried to cry out, but my chest was crushed by the melef's giant chest plate. The armour, that was supposed to protect its pilot, was now squeezing the life out of me. Then suddenly there was a pop; the air was escaping elsewhere from my chest. All I could manage was a spluttering cough, waiting for the oxygen to leave me, much the same way air would from a set of bagpipes. The life giving gas would be gone and then darkness would come. I could feel my eyelids falling and I didn't protest. Celena would go back, Dilandau would be no more…and…Celena would be…
I came to with a jolt, sucking in deep gulps that didn't seem to reach past my throat. There was a sharp stabbing pain in my side as though someone was repeatedly playing some sick game of pokey with a knife. It flared up every time I drew breath, but my body wouldn't listen. Chest heaving, I pulled everything inside me into slowing my breathing rate. My eyes had been wide open all this time, but it took endless moments for them to process the lines and colours and for my aching and tired body to properly digest the information. In front of me a sheet or curtain was wavering slightly in the breeze. It was stained a horrible urine yellow colour, yet it was wondrous to see anything when all you remembered was blackness. The breeze had an uncomfortable heat in it; I could feel it stirring the fur on my muzzle. These simple sensations left me in a strange awe of this non descript world around me. My senses were beginning to mature to their former accuracy. With a ghastly pungency, the air around me settled oppressively into the hot sickening odour of blood and decay. This came as such shock to me; the rotting smell, against the gently billowing material before me eyes. They seemed to cancel each other out, as though the two could not exist together in my primitive world. I tried to move but found myself almost paralysed. I was lying on something lumpy and at some places even a little jagged. Something very serious had happened to my neck so I couldn't even turn my head to have a look. The breeze that billowed the sheet became a gust of wind and the edge of stained fabric flapped away in the sulphurous wind, revealing a brightly lit patch of stony ground. I blinked being almost blinded by the reflective light. Conscious thoughts began to pour into my mind. Where was I? Hadn't I died? Why hadn't I died? What happened to Dilandau? Where was he? Did Celena return?
A voice like a knife, cut through the thick smog of death and disease and inevitably through my thoughts. "Hey Boss, that one's still alive!" My eyes flickered shut in concentration and I opened my mouth to speak, but instead a low growling cough came. I'd forgotten about my punctured lung. My body wracked with spluttering and my breathing grew erratic. Once again I lost consciousness. It seems my body had been dumped upon on a pile with other Zaibach soldiers. The lumps and points I'd felt prodding into my broken back were the knees, shoulders, elbows, head, feet; bodies of the dead who'd lost their lives on the battlefield. When the realisation hit, I prayed that the broken form of my dear Celena was not among them.
I awoke to a very different scene. There was a wooden panelled ceiling above me, but I could tell from its condition, I was not in a very important place. As I gathered my bearings, I realised slowly, that my wounds didn't hurt so much any more, there was a dull ache, but the raw, open, agony of broken bones and crushed organs was not there anymore. My sense of smell came back tentatively; I knew from earlier experience how much of a shock to the system waking up to a putrid smell could be. There was a flat comforting hum droning on in the background and the air was warm and pleasant. There was a very soft moan next to me, but as I tried to turn my head, an arrow of pain bolted up my back. I'd forgotten about that. My eyes snapped open when I realised that my lung was repaired. Who had done this? Where was I?
As though to answer my question a young maid wearing a very plain Asturian dress came into my line of view. I tried to call out to her but all I achieved was a small yelp. This seemed to be enough, for it caught her attention and she walked out towards me. She was not unattractive, but a flurry of freckles and light eyebrows, made her face seem concentrated, yet she looked Saintly to me, the first person I'd seen in days.
"Why, you're awake dogman. How does your neck feel?" She asked cheerily sitting in a chair by my bed.
"Where am I?" I croaked, my voice leathery from disuse.
She laughed brightly "You're on board the "Grecia". My name's Samus, I've been looking after you, what's your name?"
My mind was sent a racing. I now understood I was on board an Asturian leviship. I referred back to her question politely. "My name is Jajuka…but I was a Zaibach soldier under Lord Dilan…under General Adelphos, where am I being taken?"
The young girl's face crinkled in hesitant fear but relaxed when she saw my confusion. "We're taking you to a shelter for injured soldiers and civilians in Daedelus, just outside of Asturia."
I was silent for a few moments digesting this information, while the redheaded girl looked on, sadness and anguish in her low gaze. "Do you know if Allen Shezar and his sister escaped the battle?" I asked, fearing for her answer.
She looked at me sceptically and suspiciously for a moment, but I didn't react. Relaxing a little, she blushed. "Yes Jajuka, Sir Shezar has retired to his family estate with his newly reunited sister Celena" I would soon come to realise this blush was on account of Allen's hold over the women of Asturia. "But…how did you know about Celena?" She probed, innocently confused.
I sighed. It would be unwise to go spouting out to the people of Asturia, that Celena had once been the pyromaniac who destroyed their cities and towns. She wouldn't be safe and might end up having to face the consequences for her alter ego's misdeeds.
Samus changed my bandages and bathed my wounds. I drifted in and out of a dreamless sleep, very aware of what uncertainty faced me in Daedelus.
The Daedelus shelter for soldiers turned out to be a very large manor whose occupants had died during the destiny war. With no heir, it belonged to the state of Asturia. It was in very poor condition and would serve perfectly for a makeshift hospital. There were only a few nurses to attend to dozens of men, but they managed. An elderly nurse patrolled my ward. I saw her very infrequently as sleep was almost a constant state for me at the time, waking up only to eat or relieve myself. After a few weeks, I was able to stand with the help of an assistant. It was in the middle of Brown and the leaves were steadily falling from the trees, when I finally managed the few steps out into the hallway on my own, I caught the first glance of myself I'd seen in weeks. There was a full-length mirror against one wall. I was a sight to behold, twisted and deformed by fire. The liquid metal had burned away one side of my face but it still retained much of its former appearance, though the fur might never have grown back. There was a great deal of scarring twisting its way down my neck and chest where the molten iron had dribbled down the front of my armour, but little sprouts of hair encouraged growth. I was a pitiful sight, my eyes on the left almost closed up from the scars and much of my long fur was missing at the back. Fate had not been very kind to me on that battlefield, but it had let me live. Was this yet another agony to endure, or was the fact that I had been among the few battle-wounded to be posted only miles from the Shezar estate, an omen? Scanning the horrific sight in the mirror doubtfully I headed back to my bed and the restless dreams of nothing.
Over the many months of my recovery I dreamt little at night and ate little during the day, something kept me distracted. It was an impatience to be outside. I do not know for what purpose though, but there was a heavy discontent in my heart. It was vague and vivid, small and large. There was no black or white only mute shades of grey and it drove me insane. The only image was constant was Celena. I hoped that she was living a normal life for a fifteen year-old girl, for no girl had been through what she had. For ten years of her life she had lived as a boy and that would take great adjustment. Did she remember any of her life as Dilandau? Did she remember me? It occurred to me, as I lay awake listening to the coughs and splutters of the other men in my dorm, that I could not let go of her so easily. I had had to let go of the little girl before…but after the destruction of the Dragonslayers and Dilandau's rehabilitation, I was drafted in to be a steadying force in Dilandau's life. I did my best to return to him something of his life before the Sorcerers mutilated him, and as a consequence Celena was given her life back. Did I have any right to interfere any further? She was after all leading the life she had been born into. Many a night these thoughts plagued me endlessly.
It was the 9th of Purple before I was well enough to leave. I was given a simple Asturian tunic, enough food for a few days and a few sparse coins. Apparently the armour that I had been wearing to begin with, had been dished out among the people who had looked after me during my traction and the remainder of which had paid for my possessions. There was no one there to say goodbye or pat me on the back, but then again there had been no one there to say hello. I pulled on a stiffly woven wool cloak and gathered my few items in a pouch. I set off in the direction of the Shezar estate, for what purpose I didn't know. Perhaps Allen would have me executed for war crimes against the state, or maybe even sent back to Zaibach only to be hanged for traitorous actions. I just knew that my future would begin-or end- under the justice of Allen Shezar Knight Caeli.