Disclaimer: I don't own Vision of Escaflowne or any of the characters in this fic.
Author's Note: This is the first fic I have ever wrote, it can be a little confusing because it's in Van's POV but it's written in third person. Not really so much romance in this one, some emotional angst. It takes place 5 years after Hitomi went back to Earth.
Cruel Fate
The Mystic Moon hung over the Western Mountains bathing the land of Fanelia with an ethereal light. A lone figure stood atop the roof of the Fanelian Castle, it was the young king of Fanelia. The autumn breeze gently caressed his face and bare chest, gently brushing his hair back, only to have the thick black locks come rakishly tumbling down again. Around his neck he wore a simple pendant, which he clutched in his left hand as he gazed longingly at the Mystic Moon with the haunted eyes of a troubled soul.
It had been five years since the fall of the Zaibach Empire, five years since the death of his estranged brother, five years since the girl from the Mystic Moon returned home, taking his heart with her. He hadn't meant for it to happen but the moment he had gazed into her eyes, he had fallen for her.
One might think being worlds apart would be enough to shatter any relationship but it only seemed to strengthen theirs. The boundaries of space and time were not enough to keep them from satisfying their longing for each other. Even worlds apart, their souls continued to meet in a place created deep within the bastions of their subconscious, created by their mutual feelings of affection and longing. It was everything and yet it was nothing, intangible and yet undeniably real. It was the missing link that joined the two halves of a greater whole, unaffected by the ravages of time, a place reserved solely for them.
He would go there often and she would be there waiting. There all secrets were laid bare, nothing was hidden from each other. When he was with her, the weight of his responsibilities as a king were lifted, he had felt like that happy child that had died when his mother had left. Though he had longed to gaze upon her, inhale her rich scent, feel her lips pressed upon his, he had been content and he had known, in his heart, that they would one day be together again.
He didn't know why but now when he went there, nothing greeted him, what was once their sanctum was now nothing more than a desolate wasteland. Gone were the moments they had shared in each other's company, strewn across the fabric of time like grains of sand blown by a desert wind. No longer could he pour his heart out to her, no longer could he revel in simply being with her. He didn't understand why, had he been too inconsiderate, too selfish? Had he ever told her he loved her?
He never did tell her how he felt, but she had known how he felt, hadn't she? She was able to see the future, surely she knew how he felt about her. Now as he looked back he wasn't so sure anymore, he began to find flaws in his line of thinking. What if's began to flood his mind. What if she didn't really love him, what if she didn't want anything to do with him, what if she found someone else? What if he had told her how he felt, would she be standing by his side right now? He didn't know, just didn't have the answers to these questions.
He silently cursed himself for being such a coward, for being unable to vocalize how he felt about her, unable to say those three words he knew she so wanted to hear. She knew how he felt, he was sure of it, and yet she was so insistent on hearing him say it, why? Why couldn't he say it? Why was he so afraid? Why was he such a coward? He didn't know, he just didn't know.
He knew what he had to, he had to tell her how he felt. Was it too late, no it couldn't be, things couldn't be left off like this, he had too tell her. He called out to her but was greeted by nothing more than a vast void of cold emptiness. Empty and cold, it was fitting for that was how he felt without her. She had blocked herself off from him, why had she done that? He reached out to her again, yet he was greeted by the same feeling cold emptiness.
He clutched the pendant more tightly in his hand, it and the memories were all he had left of her, he wouldn't let those things go as he had let her go. The stars seemed to mock him as they twinkled merrily in the heavens. He felt moisture trail down his left cheek. A tear? When was the last time he had cried? He couldn't remember but another tear slowly trailed down his face, then another. Soon he had lost count, he was weeping freely now, he wept tears of bitter remorse, the tears distorting his vision until the heavens became nothing more than a blur of colours, like a child's painting. He let out an anguished cry into the night but the only response he got was a cold emptiness. Cold and empty, like him.
So, how was it? Should I continue this, or just leave it like this? Please review, flame me if you want but make it constructive, it's the only way I'll learn.