Chapter One
"You see, sir, the new weaponry Lord Folken ordered still has a few preparations left to be handled, but Chesta will see to it." Viole stopped a brief moment as he realized his superior officer was not walking with him. He turned and looked down the hall to see Dilandau standing a few yards away, very still and expressionless.
"Sir? What is wrong?" asked Viole, noticing his commander was wavering on his feet. His eyes seemed to stare at nothing, yet they were locked on one spot of the wall. Viole strode back to him and put his hand on Dilandau's shoulder, only for it to be hastily shrugged off as he quickly came back to life.
"Nothing," Dilandau snarled as he stood straighter, returning to his normal self. He ignored Viole walking beside him as he started marching off down the dismal corridor. Viole was smart enough to keep his mouth firmly clamped as they strode off to the soldiers' quarters as he could see the angry albino was in no mood to be spoken to. Dilandau stopped at his door and opened it.
"You're dismissed, Viole," he threw over his shoulder as he started advancing into his room.
"Oh, um, Lord Dilandau," Viole spoke hesitantly, praying he would not get slapped.
Dilandau turned around at the sound of Viole's hushed voice and furrowed his brow, waiting for Viole to continue.
"Um, well, you see-"
"Viole, my patience is wearing thin. Speak!" Dilandau commanded in a harsher tone than he had meant to.
Viole swallowed nervously. "I just wanted to say... Happy birthday." He immediately turned and fled down the corridor, not waiting for Dilandau's response.
Though if he had waited, he would have had to wait a very long time. Dilandau stood there, an expression of shock plastered across his face. He had not told anyone it was his birthday. Not that it would have mattered to him. He did not want anyone celebrating his birthday. Much less him. That only meant he had spent another year in this hellhole. Once he had gotten over the shock, he sneered and turned sharply on his heel, only to trip and fall flat on his face.
Ten minutes later he wearily sat down in bed. Something was very wrong. He felt like he was ready to faint from exhaustion, which was an almost nonexistent feeling for him. Even after a major battle he didn't feel this tired or weak.
He slowly reached down and pulled off his heavy, red boots, soon followed by his armor, pants, and violet shirt, and he slipped under his black silk sheets and lay his head down onto his soft pillow. He grimaced as he felt pain shoot up along the spine of his back, so he flipped over onto his stomach. Almost automatically his arms wrapped around his pillow, bringing it closer to him as if he was embracing a person. He sighed and sunk further into the sheets, giving himself fully to the comfort of his bed after a long day. His mind started churning as he tried to fall asleep.
His birthday. He was now fifteen years old. At least, that was what his superiors said. He didn't quite know if that was right, for he couldn't remember a thing before he was around eight years old, if he had been eight at the time. Folken had once said that the age had been technically correct, though he hadn't known what Strategos had meant by "technically".
For the first time he realized that he had no memories of his childhood. He could not remember his family, or if he had even had a family. He could not remember where he had lived or what he had done. Something about that was very wrong. But then again, everything was confusing to him from that point. Except one thing. He worked for the Zaibach Empire only and he was the notorious leader of his handpicked Dragonslayers.
After that, everything was mismatched and jumbled in his mind. When he was about age eight until he was about the age of twelve, he would have odd blackouts and fainting spells. When he woke up, it would be hours or days later. The only explanation he received was that he had a form of narcolepsy, but that was hard to believe since he never felt tired or weak before the blackouts happened. He had tried to figure it out, but really had no reason to when they stopped at about thirteen.
At times his dreams at night would show a windy, flower-laden field, swept over by a thunderstorm. At other times his dreams would show him a young girl, encased in shadows. He could only see parts of her face and her hair. Her eyes were devoid of emotion, lifeless and dull. She almost looked dead. At one time a long time ago he had dreamt of the ocean, which was very strange, as he had never seen the ocean even once in his life. He was swimming underneath the tides, but he could not come up for air. Things grew dark around him, his lungs burned, his heart raced. Yet he could not find a way to get out of there. His mind began to panic and water started to fill his lungs. He had woken up right then.
Dilandau groaned and rolled over onto his side, willing himself to sleep. Something just seemed out of the ordinary at that moment, but his senses told him everything was as it should be. There was a thick silence nestled in the air, not daring to be broken.
He did not realize his eyes had closed, or that his breathing started to become steadier. After one last thought, he fell fast asleep.
That night, terrible nightmares plagued him. In his mind, he could hear the pitiful crying of a small girl, see the wretched sorcerers that had tortured him. Fire raged in the background and wind howled in his ears. It seemed everything was random, coming and going quickly. He felt dizzy and unstable while his surroundings seemed to tilt and rock like a ship in a hurricane. He was surrounded by blackness for a while, a thick blackness that felt like swimming in water. Finally, right before he awoke, a severe pain spread throughout him. It felt as if he were splitting right down the middle, while the sounds of someone's voice boomed in his ears. It was his own screams of agony.
Bright garnet eyes flew open and he breathed a sigh of relief, lying still. It was just a nightmare, and it was now morning. Regaining his senses, he thought over his nightmare and frowned. He didn't feel right. It felt as though something important was missing. He chuckled at himself for wondering such things. Everything was as it should be...
Or was it?
Something slightly heavy was lying upon his right arm. His eyebrow raised as his eyes searched within his vision. His head slowly turned until he came face to face with...
"What the hell?!" Dilandau half-yelled, jolting up out of bed in surprise. Beside him, sleeping quietly underneath his sheets, was a girl! Doing a double take, Dilandau quickly glanced over her face. Somehow she seemed familiar. He thought a moment in silence, trying to remember where he had seen that pale, delicate face and wavy blonde hair before.
His thin eyebrows raised as he remembered. She was the girl from his dreams! That beautiful girl that he had seen in his dreams was actually real and alive! He looked over her peaceful face, down her neck, and across her bare shoulders. Taking a part of the black silk sheets between his thumb and index finger, he drew it down an inch or so and quickly covered it back up. She wasn't exactly clothed.
"Great. That's all that I need," he muttered as he rested his head into his hands, bringing his knees up to his chin. He sat there in silence for a few minutes, contemplating a few things. For one, how she came to be in his bed; two, why she was there; three, how he was going to explain it; and four, how creepy it was that the girl he had dreamt about for so long was now beside him.
The sound of his door sliding open made him look up to see Folken Lacour de Fanel enter his room, carrying a sword. "Well, good morning, Dilandau," he stated cynically, oblivious to the recent situation. He set the sheathed sword on the end table next to him and stepped forward. "I came to return the sword you..." he trailed off immediately as he noticed the unconscious girl lying there. His eyebrows narrowed and he looked towards the boy, who was completely avoiding his gaze. "Don't tell me you've started seducing girls already, Dilandau. Now, how do you explain this?"
Dilandau glared back up to him. "How can I explain when I know nothing?" He glanced over to the other in his bed. "I don't know how she got here. I woke up and she was just there, all right?"
Folken nodded. "Yeah, sure. Well then, when she wakes up, ask her."
Dilandau raised his eyebrows as he gazed at the girl. "I think that will be soon." Folken glanced back to her as well. Her long eyelashes fluttered open to reveal cerulean eyes, very startled eyes.
"What..." she said in confusion. She sat up, holding the black sheet to her neckline. Looking around, her face held an expression of fear. "Where... Where am I? What happened?" she asked.
"You don't know?"
She jumped in shock as the low voice reached her ears, noticing the two men in the room for the first time. "N-no!"
Folken shot Dilandau an accusing look. 'What did he do, drug her up first?' he quietly thought to himself. "You're on the Vione, young lady."
"The Vione? I don't believe I have ever heard of that..."
Folken nodded to quiet her. "Well, no matter. What's your name?"
"Celena, sir."
Dilandau bit his lower lip and looked over to Folken. Celena, huh, that's funny. He could have sworn he heard that name before...
"I am Folken, and this boy over here is Dilandau," Folken introduced, pointing to the younger albino with his right hand.
Celena quietly gasped as she noticed the mechanical arm, but remained silent and quickly looked over to where Dilandau sat, fuming. "Boy, indeed," she heard him mutter.
"Do you remember anything at all from last night?" Dilandau asked her suddenly, turning towards her. "Maybe you can recall how you got here if we start there."
She cocked an eyebrow. "Last night? I was, uh, I was lying on a table... Jujuka, he... The sorcerers were..."
Dilandau shot up suddenly upon hearing that, sitting up fully. "Sorcerers? You're one of the..." he trailed off. One of the children that they used, he had meant to say but couldn't quite bring himself to do it.
Celena looked over to Folken, who was shaking his head. "Dear, dear," he mumbled. He glanced back up to the girl. "Well, you are safe from them now. I haven't heard of any of their doings for the past three years. They couldn't have started again. But, anyway, that is not important right now. I think I should see to the matter of getting you clothes to wear. We don't have many ladies here, you see." He turned to the door but paused when he thought of something. "How old are you, Celena? You look to be about Dilandau's age."
The girl looked very confused. "I'm only twelve."
Dilandau chuckled. "I would look at yourself a little closer, if I were you."
Celena blinked in confusion and glanced downward as Folken quickly spoke up. "Dilandau, why don't you get dressed and go have breakfast while I settle some things?"
Dilandau nodded reluctantly and dressed in his usual uniform, having been only in his boxer shorts from the night before. He gave one last wondering look at Celena ere he left.
Once he was gone, Folken smiled and gestured towards the door with his head. "Don't mind him. He can be very exasperating at times. But, I will go see if I can find you something to wear. Stay here while I'm gone." He turned a little and remarked, "Don't worry. I'll figure out all of this soon." The door closed behind him, leaving Celena to sit in Dilandau's bed, still quite confused about the situation.
About fifteen minutes later, Folken returned. In his hand was a white and dark blue uniform that was seemingly made out of vinyl, a pair of slim black ankle boots, and a few undergarments. He gently set them next to Celena, who was mentally sizing them up.
"I hope these are all right. They might be a little long and oddly cut in some areas. After all, they are Eriya's," Folken commented as he stood.
"Oh, Eriya?" Celena asked.
"A friend of mine," he replied and began walking to the door. "Put those on and join me in the hall," he said as he left, giving Celena some privacy.
She smiled as she looked at the clothes. "He's kind of nice," she thought quietly, meaning Folken. "I don't know about that other boy though. Seems kind of jumpy."
After working out all of the intricate buttons, zippers, and hooks of the clothing, she was finally dressed. She turned and noticed a very large mirror on the far wall. Walking up to it, she checked over herself. The clothes fit her all right, only having a few uncomfortable spots, but that was not her main focus. Her appearance shocked her to no end. The last time she had seen herself in a mirror was... Well, it was too long ago to remember. It might have been never.
It did make sense, although, that she was around her mid-teenage years by her body structure. She was tall and thin. Her hair was composed of waves of blonde that only reached a centimeter past her ear tip.
She turned once more to the side, checking to make sure the pants were hiked up high enough. There was a large hole in them that reached the lower part of her back, almost as though it was made for a tail. Once she was sure everything was all right, she headed out of the room and found Folken leaning against the gray wall. He smiled one of his charming grins as he noticed the young girl in front of him. She was very lovely in that uniform. He stood and started walking off down the hall, Celena walking beside him.
Celena looked up to his face as she walked along side of him, almost doing double steps to keep up with Folken's floating stride. He seemed to be thinking by his expression. She frowned as she noticed the purple tattoos that lined the corners of his eyes and the purple teardrop that lay upon his right cheek. His whitish blue hair was done in tiny loose spikes, while the wisps of hair that suited for bangs hung lightly over his forehead. His bright garnet eyes were focusing ahead of him, careful on where he was heading. Celena thought back to Dilandau and his similar features. Did all men here look like that?
"Where are we going?" she inquired when she couldn't take much of his silence any longer.
Folken glanced over to her. "Well, I suppose you would want breakfast. Correct?"
Celena nodded. "Sure."
A few minutes later they arrived in the dining hall, finding it deserted. "The soldiers are at training right now, I believe. So we have it to ourselves," Strategos confirmed, watching Celena from the corner of his eyes. She was standing near a table of food, cautiously eyeing some of it. She took a fork from one of the trays and carefully poked something that was unrecognizable. It answered with a wriggle and a weird sound, making Celena jump back a foot or two.
"Folken, I think it squealed," she remarked in a creeped out tone.
Folken took her by the shoulders and steered her towards the salad tray. "Knowing some of the food around here, it probably did," he replied.
Celena only nodded and looked over the other foods, finding some of them not too bad. She picked up a plate and filled it with some sort of fruit salad, and then sat down in one of the empty chairs opposite of Folken. He had already selected his breakfast of choice, a grainy cereal with a helping of milk.
"After breakfast, I'll show you around the Vione and maybe I'll introduce you to some of the soldiers around here. Then I suppose we can find you accommodations and go on from there," Folken explained.
Celena nodded. "All right... I have to admit, I'm still a bit overwhelmed by all of this."
"I can understand that, but it should get better as time goes on. And I'll find out how you came to be here, don't worry about that."
Celena smiled. "Thank you."
The sounds of metal ringing throughout the air were not enough to keep Dilandau's attention constant. He stood there quietly in a corner of the room, leaning upon the wall. Celena was the main point of his thoughts. It was so strange, this new puzzle. She looked like the girl from his dreams, no doubt. Her name he thought he had heard before somewhere. He was almost certain that he had heard of the one she called Jujuka before too.
Yet how did she appear in his bed? He didn't remember her there when he went to sleep, for sure. The terrible dream from last night came up once or twice in his range of thinking. Could that have been a factor? It might have been naïve to think so, but could that nightmare have had anything to do with it? That bothered Dilandau quite a bit. It might have been a crazy idea, but nothing should be ruled out yet.
Maybe someone had decided to play a practical joke on him? But it all seemed too real to be something like that. She did seem a little strange. That thought brought him to what she had said. The sorcerers. If she was one of the children they used for their overall insane and dangerous experiments, that might explain why she couldn't remember anything. But there was a factor to that. The sorcerers did not usually do experiments on older children above thirteen. At least, that is what he thought. When he had turned thirteen, they pushed him out of their laboratories and into the Zaibach army, like many other children he had seen. So why would Celena act like that if she were around fifteen or so? There were too many questions for him to wonder about, and he kept thinking about it as his Dragonslayers did sword-training exercises.
Guimel smirked as he struck out again. He had made at least four mistakes already and Dilandau had not even yelled at him once. He looked over to where his commander was standing, stiff as a statue. Dilandau seemed to be thinking really hard, for certain. He shrugged and continued going through the routine drills. Dilandau was acting more and more strangely these days.
"You see, sir, the new weaponry Lord Folken ordered still has a few preparations left to be handled, but Chesta will see to it." Viole stopped a brief moment as he realized his superior officer was not walking with him. He turned and looked down the hall to see Dilandau standing a few yards away, very still and expressionless.
"Sir? What is wrong?" asked Viole, noticing his commander was wavering on his feet. His eyes seemed to stare at nothing, yet they were locked on one spot of the wall. Viole strode back to him and put his hand on Dilandau's shoulder, only for it to be hastily shrugged off as he quickly came back to life.
"Nothing," Dilandau snarled as he stood straighter, returning to his normal self. He ignored Viole walking beside him as he started marching off down the dismal corridor. Viole was smart enough to keep his mouth firmly clamped as they strode off to the soldiers' quarters as he could see the angry albino was in no mood to be spoken to. Dilandau stopped at his door and opened it.
"You're dismissed, Viole," he threw over his shoulder as he started advancing into his room.
"Oh, um, Lord Dilandau," Viole spoke hesitantly, praying he would not get slapped.
Dilandau turned around at the sound of Viole's hushed voice and furrowed his brow, waiting for Viole to continue.
"Um, well, you see-"
"Viole, my patience is wearing thin. Speak!" Dilandau commanded in a harsher tone than he had meant to.
Viole swallowed nervously. "I just wanted to say... Happy birthday." He immediately turned and fled down the corridor, not waiting for Dilandau's response.
Though if he had waited, he would have had to wait a very long time. Dilandau stood there, an expression of shock plastered across his face. He had not told anyone it was his birthday. Not that it would have mattered to him. He did not want anyone celebrating his birthday. Much less him. That only meant he had spent another year in this hellhole. Once he had gotten over the shock, he sneered and turned sharply on his heel, only to trip and fall flat on his face.
Ten minutes later he wearily sat down in bed. Something was very wrong. He felt like he was ready to faint from exhaustion, which was an almost nonexistent feeling for him. Even after a major battle he didn't feel this tired or weak.
He slowly reached down and pulled off his heavy, red boots, soon followed by his armor, pants, and violet shirt, and he slipped under his black silk sheets and lay his head down onto his soft pillow. He grimaced as he felt pain shoot up along the spine of his back, so he flipped over onto his stomach. Almost automatically his arms wrapped around his pillow, bringing it closer to him as if he was embracing a person. He sighed and sunk further into the sheets, giving himself fully to the comfort of his bed after a long day. His mind started churning as he tried to fall asleep.
His birthday. He was now fifteen years old. At least, that was what his superiors said. He didn't quite know if that was right, for he couldn't remember a thing before he was around eight years old, if he had been eight at the time. Folken had once said that the age had been technically correct, though he hadn't known what Strategos had meant by "technically".
For the first time he realized that he had no memories of his childhood. He could not remember his family, or if he had even had a family. He could not remember where he had lived or what he had done. Something about that was very wrong. But then again, everything was confusing to him from that point. Except one thing. He worked for the Zaibach Empire only and he was the notorious leader of his handpicked Dragonslayers.
After that, everything was mismatched and jumbled in his mind. When he was about age eight until he was about the age of twelve, he would have odd blackouts and fainting spells. When he woke up, it would be hours or days later. The only explanation he received was that he had a form of narcolepsy, but that was hard to believe since he never felt tired or weak before the blackouts happened. He had tried to figure it out, but really had no reason to when they stopped at about thirteen.
At times his dreams at night would show a windy, flower-laden field, swept over by a thunderstorm. At other times his dreams would show him a young girl, encased in shadows. He could only see parts of her face and her hair. Her eyes were devoid of emotion, lifeless and dull. She almost looked dead. At one time a long time ago he had dreamt of the ocean, which was very strange, as he had never seen the ocean even once in his life. He was swimming underneath the tides, but he could not come up for air. Things grew dark around him, his lungs burned, his heart raced. Yet he could not find a way to get out of there. His mind began to panic and water started to fill his lungs. He had woken up right then.
Dilandau groaned and rolled over onto his side, willing himself to sleep. Something just seemed out of the ordinary at that moment, but his senses told him everything was as it should be. There was a thick silence nestled in the air, not daring to be broken.
He did not realize his eyes had closed, or that his breathing started to become steadier. After one last thought, he fell fast asleep.
That night, terrible nightmares plagued him. In his mind, he could hear the pitiful crying of a small girl, see the wretched sorcerers that had tortured him. Fire raged in the background and wind howled in his ears. It seemed everything was random, coming and going quickly. He felt dizzy and unstable while his surroundings seemed to tilt and rock like a ship in a hurricane. He was surrounded by blackness for a while, a thick blackness that felt like swimming in water. Finally, right before he awoke, a severe pain spread throughout him. It felt as if he were splitting right down the middle, while the sounds of someone's voice boomed in his ears. It was his own screams of agony.
Bright garnet eyes flew open and he breathed a sigh of relief, lying still. It was just a nightmare, and it was now morning. Regaining his senses, he thought over his nightmare and frowned. He didn't feel right. It felt as though something important was missing. He chuckled at himself for wondering such things. Everything was as it should be...
Or was it?
Something slightly heavy was lying upon his right arm. His eyebrow raised as his eyes searched within his vision. His head slowly turned until he came face to face with...
"What the hell?!" Dilandau half-yelled, jolting up out of bed in surprise. Beside him, sleeping quietly underneath his sheets, was a girl! Doing a double take, Dilandau quickly glanced over her face. Somehow she seemed familiar. He thought a moment in silence, trying to remember where he had seen that pale, delicate face and wavy blonde hair before.
His thin eyebrows raised as he remembered. She was the girl from his dreams! That beautiful girl that he had seen in his dreams was actually real and alive! He looked over her peaceful face, down her neck, and across her bare shoulders. Taking a part of the black silk sheets between his thumb and index finger, he drew it down an inch or so and quickly covered it back up. She wasn't exactly clothed.
"Great. That's all that I need," he muttered as he rested his head into his hands, bringing his knees up to his chin. He sat there in silence for a few minutes, contemplating a few things. For one, how she came to be in his bed; two, why she was there; three, how he was going to explain it; and four, how creepy it was that the girl he had dreamt about for so long was now beside him.
The sound of his door sliding open made him look up to see Folken Lacour de Fanel enter his room, carrying a sword. "Well, good morning, Dilandau," he stated cynically, oblivious to the recent situation. He set the sheathed sword on the end table next to him and stepped forward. "I came to return the sword you..." he trailed off immediately as he noticed the unconscious girl lying there. His eyebrows narrowed and he looked towards the boy, who was completely avoiding his gaze. "Don't tell me you've started seducing girls already, Dilandau. Now, how do you explain this?"
Dilandau glared back up to him. "How can I explain when I know nothing?" He glanced over to the other in his bed. "I don't know how she got here. I woke up and she was just there, all right?"
Folken nodded. "Yeah, sure. Well then, when she wakes up, ask her."
Dilandau raised his eyebrows as he gazed at the girl. "I think that will be soon." Folken glanced back to her as well. Her long eyelashes fluttered open to reveal cerulean eyes, very startled eyes.
"What..." she said in confusion. She sat up, holding the black sheet to her neckline. Looking around, her face held an expression of fear. "Where... Where am I? What happened?" she asked.
"You don't know?"
She jumped in shock as the low voice reached her ears, noticing the two men in the room for the first time. "N-no!"
Folken shot Dilandau an accusing look. 'What did he do, drug her up first?' he quietly thought to himself. "You're on the Vione, young lady."
"The Vione? I don't believe I have ever heard of that..."
Folken nodded to quiet her. "Well, no matter. What's your name?"
"Celena, sir."
Dilandau bit his lower lip and looked over to Folken. Celena, huh, that's funny. He could have sworn he heard that name before...
"I am Folken, and this boy over here is Dilandau," Folken introduced, pointing to the younger albino with his right hand.
Celena quietly gasped as she noticed the mechanical arm, but remained silent and quickly looked over to where Dilandau sat, fuming. "Boy, indeed," she heard him mutter.
"Do you remember anything at all from last night?" Dilandau asked her suddenly, turning towards her. "Maybe you can recall how you got here if we start there."
She cocked an eyebrow. "Last night? I was, uh, I was lying on a table... Jujuka, he... The sorcerers were..."
Dilandau shot up suddenly upon hearing that, sitting up fully. "Sorcerers? You're one of the..." he trailed off. One of the children that they used, he had meant to say but couldn't quite bring himself to do it.
Celena looked over to Folken, who was shaking his head. "Dear, dear," he mumbled. He glanced back up to the girl. "Well, you are safe from them now. I haven't heard of any of their doings for the past three years. They couldn't have started again. But, anyway, that is not important right now. I think I should see to the matter of getting you clothes to wear. We don't have many ladies here, you see." He turned to the door but paused when he thought of something. "How old are you, Celena? You look to be about Dilandau's age."
The girl looked very confused. "I'm only twelve."
Dilandau chuckled. "I would look at yourself a little closer, if I were you."
Celena blinked in confusion and glanced downward as Folken quickly spoke up. "Dilandau, why don't you get dressed and go have breakfast while I settle some things?"
Dilandau nodded reluctantly and dressed in his usual uniform, having been only in his boxer shorts from the night before. He gave one last wondering look at Celena ere he left.
Once he was gone, Folken smiled and gestured towards the door with his head. "Don't mind him. He can be very exasperating at times. But, I will go see if I can find you something to wear. Stay here while I'm gone." He turned a little and remarked, "Don't worry. I'll figure out all of this soon." The door closed behind him, leaving Celena to sit in Dilandau's bed, still quite confused about the situation.
About fifteen minutes later, Folken returned. In his hand was a white and dark blue uniform that was seemingly made out of vinyl, a pair of slim black ankle boots, and a few undergarments. He gently set them next to Celena, who was mentally sizing them up.
"I hope these are all right. They might be a little long and oddly cut in some areas. After all, they are Eriya's," Folken commented as he stood.
"Oh, Eriya?" Celena asked.
"A friend of mine," he replied and began walking to the door. "Put those on and join me in the hall," he said as he left, giving Celena some privacy.
She smiled as she looked at the clothes. "He's kind of nice," she thought quietly, meaning Folken. "I don't know about that other boy though. Seems kind of jumpy."
After working out all of the intricate buttons, zippers, and hooks of the clothing, she was finally dressed. She turned and noticed a very large mirror on the far wall. Walking up to it, she checked over herself. The clothes fit her all right, only having a few uncomfortable spots, but that was not her main focus. Her appearance shocked her to no end. The last time she had seen herself in a mirror was... Well, it was too long ago to remember. It might have been never.
It did make sense, although, that she was around her mid-teenage years by her body structure. She was tall and thin. Her hair was composed of waves of blonde that only reached a centimeter past her ear tip.
She turned once more to the side, checking to make sure the pants were hiked up high enough. There was a large hole in them that reached the lower part of her back, almost as though it was made for a tail. Once she was sure everything was all right, she headed out of the room and found Folken leaning against the gray wall. He smiled one of his charming grins as he noticed the young girl in front of him. She was very lovely in that uniform. He stood and started walking off down the hall, Celena walking beside him.
Celena looked up to his face as she walked along side of him, almost doing double steps to keep up with Folken's floating stride. He seemed to be thinking by his expression. She frowned as she noticed the purple tattoos that lined the corners of his eyes and the purple teardrop that lay upon his right cheek. His whitish blue hair was done in tiny loose spikes, while the wisps of hair that suited for bangs hung lightly over his forehead. His bright garnet eyes were focusing ahead of him, careful on where he was heading. Celena thought back to Dilandau and his similar features. Did all men here look like that?
"Where are we going?" she inquired when she couldn't take much of his silence any longer.
Folken glanced over to her. "Well, I suppose you would want breakfast. Correct?"
Celena nodded. "Sure."
A few minutes later they arrived in the dining hall, finding it deserted. "The soldiers are at training right now, I believe. So we have it to ourselves," Strategos confirmed, watching Celena from the corner of his eyes. She was standing near a table of food, cautiously eyeing some of it. She took a fork from one of the trays and carefully poked something that was unrecognizable. It answered with a wriggle and a weird sound, making Celena jump back a foot or two.
"Folken, I think it squealed," she remarked in a creeped out tone.
Folken took her by the shoulders and steered her towards the salad tray. "Knowing some of the food around here, it probably did," he replied.
Celena only nodded and looked over the other foods, finding some of them not too bad. She picked up a plate and filled it with some sort of fruit salad, and then sat down in one of the empty chairs opposite of Folken. He had already selected his breakfast of choice, a grainy cereal with a helping of milk.
"After breakfast, I'll show you around the Vione and maybe I'll introduce you to some of the soldiers around here. Then I suppose we can find you accommodations and go on from there," Folken explained.
Celena nodded. "All right... I have to admit, I'm still a bit overwhelmed by all of this."
"I can understand that, but it should get better as time goes on. And I'll find out how you came to be here, don't worry about that."
Celena smiled. "Thank you."
The sounds of metal ringing throughout the air were not enough to keep Dilandau's attention constant. He stood there quietly in a corner of the room, leaning upon the wall. Celena was the main point of his thoughts. It was so strange, this new puzzle. She looked like the girl from his dreams, no doubt. Her name he thought he had heard before somewhere. He was almost certain that he had heard of the one she called Jujuka before too.
Yet how did she appear in his bed? He didn't remember her there when he went to sleep, for sure. The terrible dream from last night came up once or twice in his range of thinking. Could that have been a factor? It might have been naïve to think so, but could that nightmare have had anything to do with it? That bothered Dilandau quite a bit. It might have been a crazy idea, but nothing should be ruled out yet.
Maybe someone had decided to play a practical joke on him? But it all seemed too real to be something like that. She did seem a little strange. That thought brought him to what she had said. The sorcerers. If she was one of the children they used for their overall insane and dangerous experiments, that might explain why she couldn't remember anything. But there was a factor to that. The sorcerers did not usually do experiments on older children above thirteen. At least, that is what he thought. When he had turned thirteen, they pushed him out of their laboratories and into the Zaibach army, like many other children he had seen. So why would Celena act like that if she were around fifteen or so? There were too many questions for him to wonder about, and he kept thinking about it as his Dragonslayers did sword-training exercises.
Guimel smirked as he struck out again. He had made at least four mistakes already and Dilandau had not even yelled at him once. He looked over to where his commander was standing, stiff as a statue. Dilandau seemed to be thinking really hard, for certain. He shrugged and continued going through the routine drills. Dilandau was acting more and more strangely these days.