Folken couldn't say he had grown used to this new life. It was hard to adjust after coming from a flourishing land which thrived on life to such a horrid, barren place. No one seemed to possess any emotions at all. The Fanelian prince began to wonder if he, too, would lose interest in those things he once loved. He wondered if he would ever forget about his youngest brother...or that land he was supposed to rule over. He recalled questioning one of the sorcerers...one that studied astronomy mainly. One who's name was Jack. Though, the astronomer simply informed him that he would understand why everyone acted that way soon enough.
The fifteen year old sighed, leaning against the wall. He found that Emperor Dornkirk was almost a frightening man. The things he spoke of...about changing fate and controlling destiny...they seemed horrid, yet awe inspiring all the same. To create an ideal future by use of machines, it certainly fascinated Folken. Dornkirk informed the 'nobleman' that he would need his aid in achieving this-for Folken had the power of Atlantis itself running in his veins. For now, he was placed as a sorcerer...given a cloak with a green collar. He found it highly restricting, and the others in this field were quite stuffy for his liking. He was a prince, not a lazy lapdog meant only for orders by this Emperor. Still, he couldn't blame him. It was because of Lord Dornkirk that he was still alive.
A metallic claw-like arm protruded from the folds of that cape. Crimson oculars danced over the articulate patterns and intricate weaves in steel. It had taken a lot of time to grow used to the lack of feeling in a single appendage. He often times had grabbed for things, and then had to look down to make certain he had them. It made everything more difficult and more of a chore than it once was, though Folken was sure he would get used to it. He was already becoming attached to the new body part, and if he thought on the optimistic side then he would realize that having no nerves in that arm could come in useful. Why...he could place it in the fires and let it burn...or he could hit things harder than he would have thought to before. But...why would he have any reason to do those things? Unless the boredom had gotten to be too much for him, which at that point he began to think it would.
Within his good hand, there was a folder encasing various papers. One of the sorcerers had entrusted it to him, giving him his very first "project." Folken wasn't at all excited about that. He heard stories of how some of the scientists had kidnapped humans and did all sorts of horrible experiments on them. But, as Jack had told him...he needed to become numb to human emotion. The pleadings eyes and sobbing only made the jobs harder in the long run. Folken supposed that was the truth, though he didn't know if he would ever be able to just seal off such feelings. It wasn't as easy as gaining a metal appendage for such a purpose. Though, the sorcerers probably had chemicals for closing off affection and compassion...they seemed to have something for everything.
Folken started up in his slow walk, growing more and more irritated by the encumbering drag of that cape on the floor. Rolling those eyes up in annoyance, he finally reached the desired place. A sign that read "Authorized Personnel Only" lined the door top, and being just what those words in red had printed out, metallic digits were used to punch the code into the side panel. With a buzz that made the Fanelian jump, the entrance slid open easily and the prince's lips parted as he caught sight of what lingered within.
Cages upon cages were lined up against each other to create cells. Though, one might have expected animals to be locked within...this wasn't the case. Humans...real people were behind them. They were all surprisingly silent, but that was mostly due to the sedatives that were issued with each meal. Folken knew the routine well, and he knew they had people that they experimented on...he just didn't realize that it was this barbaric. To keep them all locked up in tight, little spaces and give them only a thin blanket to sleep on--it was torture! They must have been cold as Folken could even feel the draft through the very cloak that binded him. He closed his eyes tightly, condemning those feelings back. He had a job to do...and those lids lifted hesitantly as he peeked down at the folder in his hand.
He opened the thick folds, and sifted through a few of the papers...pulling out the instructions. Folken skimmed over the paper, and sighed with a nod. So, he was simply being used to keep a certain person company until they were ready to use her. His brows furrowed. He was not a baby-sitter! The only person he had taken care of was his younger brother Van when his mother needed to attend to things. But, he had to do as he was told. The prince wanted nothing more than to complete Dornkirk's 'ideal future.' And it meant taking things one step at a time...so eyes began to roam over the tags on the cages...searching for the one who went by the name of 'Catherine Fern.'
Folken looked over cards, mumbling them to himself as he went along, "Ernest Bancock, Armona Niche, Kenton Weice...ah...here we are. Catherine Fern..."
Folken peered over the slumbering form. Oh...she was a beauty all right. The papers said she was the daughter of a wealthy nobleman in Basram, and Folken wondered for a moment what they would want with such a person. She couldn't be trained as a fighter...and they wouldn't use her beauty for anything. In Zaibach, beauty really meant nothing as no one paid attention to that sort of thing. Still, Folken found himself admiring the way the shimmering locks of light brown scattered across that blanket. Her features were soft and elegant, which was what would be expected from a woman of her class. Even he...a prince of the country Fanelia felt as though he paled in comparison with her. He wondered what color her eyes were for a moment, but then shook his head, the mop of bluish silver toppling over one of those eyes. He raised his right hand to sweep them away, but felt the discomfort of metal scraping against his forehead. That was going to leave a mark.
The living hand reached up to collect the few droplets of blood that was shed due to his own clumsiness. That was just great...he was already doing something stupid before he even started this "project." But, Jack's words echoed throughout his mind. Don't get attached to anyone in Zaibach. People come and go so quickly you don't even have a chance to say good-bye. This poor slumbering femme was a true example of that. It wouldn't be too hard to close himself off to feelings...once he got past her beauty. It was probably only skin-deep anyway...given her stature. So, Folken would just do as he was assigned and stay there until morning...when the project itself would begin.
* * *
Dawn cracked it's way through Gaea, and spread light through the majority of it. Zaibach, however, went untouched by such a thing. It seemed as though no rays of sunshine ever peeked through the fortress, and especially the unwindowed rooms. Folken awakened to the agonized cries and wails of young children as well as pounding on the bars of those cages. He winced, and quickly rose to his feet, catching his gaze on pleading eyes from the various people. They reached out for him and begged for help...and Folken closed his eyes tightly to shut them out. He hated being so cold. Even when people were in trouble in Fanelia, he always stopped by to help if he could. Now, he was deliberately being cruel and heartless.
As much as it killed him inside, he forced it back. Soon enough, the cries would go away and people would lose their hope in ever gaining the aid of this new face. He was just like "one of them" now, and it didn't matter what they did to try and get his attention...he would just leave them in there to die. Folken allowed those lids to lift and lips parted some as those eyes landed on a pair of piercing azures. Catherine was awake at that point, and she narrowed her gaze on him in a cold manner. Folken was almost appalled by this at first, but refused to show that. He could be every bit as cold inside! After all, as a Zaibach sorcerer...that was one of the 'job descriptions.'
"Well...it seems you're finally awake..." Folken began calmly.
"Yes...I am. Look...I don't know who you are...or why you're here...but you all disgust me. You and you're needles and whatever you do. Just look at these people! Look at their suffering! Are you inhumane?! Don't you have any sort of heart?!" Catherine's angry voice cut the new sorcerer off jaggedly.
Taken back, the prince hardly expected such a violent temper. Still, he answered with smoothness. His tone lacked the emotional attachment needed to even began a hearty conversation, "Whether I do or not is really none of your concern. All you need to know is that I will be taking care of you...and that I am Folken..."
"Great...just what I need...someone to look after me. I am fourteen year old! I don't need a caretaker...but I suppose none of that'll matter to you anyway..." The youth rolled her eyes.
"No...not really..." Folken busied himself with the water holster, unscrewing the top half.
"Ugh! It figures...I hate you! All of you from Zaibach!"
The prince lifted his gaze to meet with hers as a slow shrug was spared. He had to admit...he was doing pretty well with the uncaring thing. Though, her yells and rants were helping a lot in not forming any sort of sentimental feelings. As he had thought before, the beauty might have been there...but the personality was hardly anything to be desired. He finished with the removal of the bottle part, raising his gaze toward her. A hint of amusement danced within those eyes, but without the accompaniment of a smile...it sort of lost it's meaning.
"And I'll get you some fresh water..."
"Yeah...treat me like a pet...why don't you give me a treat while you're at it...?"
"Only good pets get treats..."
"Oh...you really are funny...Folken..." Catherine glared at him through those barred slots.
"I wasn't really trying to be..." Folken looked toward her eyes with unmatched anger. "I suppose it was a side-effect."
"Just go...and get out of my sight..." She spun away so her back was to him.
Folken watched her for a moment or so longer, and then rolled his eyes upward with a shrug. He would never understand teenage women...no matter how hard he tried. Though, he never actually ran into a girl in Catherine's situation. However, he couldn't permit himself to care. Practicing what was preached, the young sorcerer turned in the opposite direction of her, starting off a couple of steps. He paused, and offered the words over his shoulder.
"I will be back with your water, Catherine..."
Author's Notes: Eh...I just started writing while I was having a block on my other story...and this was what I came up with. I don't know if it's any good or not...and I don't know if I'm really gonna continue with it. It might be one of those things that I work on from time to time. Oh well, really depends on what people think of it ^__^;. Heheh, anyway...I wanted to take on the challenge of writing a Folken-fic. I hope I did all right...and I know this chapter isn't much...but it's just a foundation. I hope you enjoyed :D