DISCLAIMER: I may not own this series, I may not own too much
But if you tried to sue me, I'll throw a fit and such.
So try to take it easy, You know this is for fun-
Your cops will never catch me, CAUSE DAMNIT, I CAN RUN!!
LONG TIME GONE
Chapter One: Formal Introductions and Swords.
Dilandau frowned and cursed at his Guymelef. After an hour of trying to repair the malfunction in the gears, he decided that it was hopeless to fiddle with the small toolbox he had. The entire left leg on his melef was shot, radio communications were out, and there was nothing he could do about it. After cursing wildly and throwing parts of his uniform at the disabled guymelef, he sat and pondered over his next move.
Completely disabled in the middle of a forest somewhere to the East of Zaibach's ground base, stripped to his undershirt, hot uniform pants, boots and sword, he had no other option. He had to walk. He began heading east, hoping to arrive at the city before a dragon caught wind of him…
&**~**&
Kenshia stubbornly pushed through more underbrush.
"Damnit…" she mumbled to herself. She needed more chronil metal. Repairing guymelefs was a daunting task, and even more impossible when you had no raw materials to run on. The durable, naturally occurring metal had eluded her all afternoon and her frustration was becoming unbearable.
Her choppy, short, light-blue hair hung in her sun burnt face and matted to the sides, saturated in sweat and dirt. Plain brown eyes searched the forest ground for meters out in front of her, looking for any trace of the chunky, reflective metal sticking out near trees or under brush where it normally formed.
"Damnit again!" She cursed, not only for the sake of consistency and repetition but also because she was very irritated. She sighed and surged forth, knowing her anger only wasted precious energy.
&**~**&
Dilandau had been moving for almost an hour and had stayed glued to the same course. He'd become so hot he finally removed his undershirt and headdress, wrapping one in the other and tying it to his belt. Sweaty, tired and undoubtedly beyond displeased, he came to a chunk of what he recognized as chronil and rested, sitting on the cool metal in the shade.
He opened his canteen and took a swig of water, but his grip quickly switched from the canteen to his sword hilt when he caught a glimpse of movement in his peripheral vision. The canteen fell, making a 'clunk' noise on the metal. This startled Kenshia, the source of Dilandau's alarm, and she, too, moved her hand to her weapon.
Their eyes met, but neither moved nor blinked for a very long moment. Kenshia gasped once she realized what Dilandau was sitting on.
"Thank goodness!" She sighed and moved her hand away from her sword, much to Dilandau's bewilderment. For a moment he expected her to bow in respect or run for her life, but she only continued.
"Chronil! I've been looking all day!" She approached Dilandau slowly but cheerily, careful not to startle a man with his hand on his sword hilt.
"I…um- you're not harvesting that, are you?" She asked, indicating his seat.
Dilandau finally understood what she meant. He picked up his canteen and returned it to his belt. He looked at the girl who was anxiously awaiting a response. She was muscularly built with a shock of light hair that betrayed her dark eyes and complexion. She was about an inch taller than him, held herself well and wore Freidian garments.
Freidian. SHIT. He quickly thought over the situation and responded with a quick, "No, help yourself."
In his head, Dilandau schemed. Though he was not in full uniform, she might still realize he was a Zaibach soldier. If anyone in Freid got wind that scouts and spies were collecting reconnaissance for the upcoming attack- it would spell disaster. He had only one option; the girl had to be eliminated. He reached for his sword slowly, and suddenly realized the girl was talking to him.
"Well?" She said.
"What? I'm sorry, I missed that?"
"Oh, I just asked what you were doing all the way out here." …Being a Zaibach soldier and all… she mentally added.
As the young man had gotten, she'd promptly noted the uniform boots of the Zaibach Dragonslayers. She was sure to conceal this, knowing that if she schemed well enough, she might get out alive. She pulled some tools from her pouch to harvest the metal, all the while keeping a close tab on Dilandau's voice, movements… she could almost feel his mind working for a plausible answer to her question.
"Hunting," Dilandau responded after only a short pause. He checked the answer out in his mind- it worked. "And you?" He inquired.
"I'm just mining this chronil," she said, tapping the chunk with her tool, "for my guymelef, you know."
Dilandau made a casual noise of acknowledgement, silently unsheathing his sword. Only a step from the girl, he quickly covered the distance and brought the sword down in one fell swoop.
Kenshia had less than a second to react, as she saw Dilandau's lunge in the metal's reflective surface. She only barely dodged the onslaught, and guessed by the wetness on her neck that she'd been nicked. Rolling and unsheathing her sword, she jumped back, barely missing another attack from Dilandau.
She blocked, countered, blocked and attacked, finally regaining her footing.
"Zaibach bastard!" She raged, lunging at him.
"Yep." He teased, smirking as one of his launches at Kenshia slashed her abdomen. She stepped back and hissed in pain. "Not very good, are you?"
"Enough that I'm not dead!" She foolishly attacked in anger, making herself vulnerable. Dilandau struck her right wrist hard with the flat of his sword, and then smacked her weapon from her hand with a quick thrust. Her sword fell to the ground, and she gave a cry of frustration and she attempted to regain possession of it.
Dilandau did not allow her, quickly swiping her feet out from under her and going in for the kill, straight to her chest. Kenshia used her loss of balance to her advantage, however, falling under the blow and catching the hilt of his blade with her feet. She caught the blade in between her hands, strictly controlling the direction of it.
With his thrust cut off, Dilandau stood locked in a battle of strength with the bleeding girl. He didn't realize his blow hadn't landed until he heard Kenshia's cry of pain as her hands were sliced from the blade.
He watched the blood from her hands dripping down his sword and onto her face, and twisted the blade sadistically to open the wounds and try to regain control of his sword. Her grip would not relinquish, though the blood flow onto her face and chest increased.
"Eahh…don't! I can help you! I build guymelefs!" Her voice was stressed and raspy under the stress of holding a blade at bay.
She felt his pressing let up at this, and resumed eye contact with him.
"Oh, really?" He inquired, cocky yet interested, "If I were to humor you- how does this change my need to murder you?"
"Don't. Don't kill me- I'll work for Zaibach. I'm Daisukien Kenshia, the best guymelef engineer in Freid. Spare me, and I'll defect," she said in a rush.
"Well, if we're going to have formal introductions," he said in a patronizing tone, "I am Albatou Dilandau, Commander of the Ryugettai of Zaibach- of whom I'm certain you've heard?"
Kenshia's eyes widened.
This guy is infamous in Freid. He's killed, pillaged, razed. Oh, boy, has he razed.
Most recently known in the rumors of Fanelia's ruin; burnt to the ground. A lurching sickness in her stomach arose as his blade lingered still near her neck, but she buried the feeling.
"May I rise, sir?"
Dilandau pushed his sword into the crook of her neck. "You'll address me as Dilandau-sama, impudent bitch. Betray your country to spare your life, will you? Honorable, I must say."
Kenshia's blood boiled. "Freid is not my country. I'm there for the business, the money and the industry. My loyalties lie nowhere and to no one but myself.
Dilandau smirked, "It's good to know you've got your priorities straight. Well then, you won't run away from me, will you now?" He laughed.
"Not so long as you have that sword, and I am without mine," she cringed inwardly, thinking that may not have been the smartest thing to say.
"Very well, then," he sighed, sheathing his sword and keeping his eye on the girl, "you may rise."
She stood up slowly; trying to do so without having either of her badly sliced hands touch the ground. She was unsuccessful, however, and faltered back to the ground, crying out as she tried to catch herself. Dilandau rolled his eyes and sighed as he grabbed her by her shoulders and hauled Kenshia to her feet. She glanced at him and then stared at her hands. The cuts were not too deep, but they were long and were bleeding enough to worry her, though not tremendously. She looked around for her sword. After spotting it, she looked at Dilandau.
"I can't very well pick it up," she commented, referring to her hands and nodding towards the sword.
"You expect me to? The sword you threatened my life with?" He asked, scoffing.
"You attacked me first!"
"You're a Freudian, I had no choice."
"No choice? No choice but to behead me? Well, you certainly didn't survey the situation very well, than, did you?" She snapped, sounding critical of Dilandau.
Dilandau drew his sword quickly, bringing it to Kenshia's throat and giving her no time to react even if she could. "You dare to taunt me?"
Kenshia glared, but backed down. "Can I just have my sword back, please?"
"No."
"But--!"
Dilandau pushed the sword into her flesh a little more, sure he was about to draw blood. "No. You think I'm ignorant enough to let you have a weapon?"
Kenshia slowly willed her bloody, throbbing hands to her belt and undid it. She took off the sheath and handed it to Dilandau. "You hold it, but I won't leave my sword here."
Dilandau was annoyed at her persistence. Nonetheless, he walked over to her sword, sheathed it and strapped it to his belt. "There. Now shut-up and walk. One false move, and remember that I can draw and throw my dagger in a tenth of a time I can draw my sword." Kenshia simply turned and began to walk in the direction he was going. 'So much for the Chronil.'
Authors Notes: What fun, eh? Quick note: If you've gotten this far, I'd like you to know that this story is FOUR YEARS in the making. I would greatly appreciate just a few moments of your time to let me know what you thought. I never thought I would publish it on FFN, but I finally decided that I had to go somewhere with the character I've spent so much time on.
Reviews VERY welcome, I'd love feedback on my favorite story thus! Thank You!
-TAM