Stage 01: The Egg
"There are four stages in the butterfly life cycle. The complete metamorphosis the butterfly undergoes throughout its life is one of the most precious occurrences in nature.
The egg is where it all starts. A tiny, oval-shape of microscopic size. Attached to a leaf and left to its fate by its mother, it is at the mercy of the world at large. It will stay in this immobile, useless state until, after four days, it is time to hatch."
- Hildred Ignatius Godfrey
Part 01: Land of the Rising Sun
Five years later…
The crowd was bigger than she had anticipated. But she was used to the hundreds of eyes watching her every move. She could feel their pupils burning wholes in her white suit, which only protected her from the tip of her opponent's epee. Thank God for the mask.
Her opponent was very fleet on foot and her movements were graceful and precise. She was trained well, muscular and clever. Nothing less than to be expected in the finals.
They were in the center ring of the large hall, the last battle to be fought, and Jane had seen the pressure to win in her rival's eyes. It had no doubt something to do with the large amount of prize money. Jane didn't need the money, nor did she want the fame. Then why, you ask? To show them she was worthy of her family's name, or that she was worth something in general, but also able to achieve this something and stand on her own without that same surname having her back. One of the reasons she had entered the tournament under a different name. Her father was in the audience though – a rarity in itself.
They took positions again. Then they danced, back and forth, advancing and retreating, Jane with new fuel inside her and more accuracy behind her touches. They were a match for each other, not in perfect balance however. The girl – name forgotten – was a bit of a celebrity in the fencing world.
Minutes later there was a tie. Jane had one final trick up her sleeve, the ultimate diversionary tactic. But half the time it didn't work.
She looked to the sideline from the corner of her eye and saw Hayato's impressive figure standing there, hands behind his back in a warrior's stance. Jane had a long way to go if she was ever going to be his equal. He was her coach and trainer as well as her guardian. Their bond was so strong, Hayato understood from the moment she glanced his way, that she was distracted. She was not focusing, damnit!
He had never seen a more beautiful smile in his life on a girl's face than when the referee announced the winner. Jane lost.
The girl – a very smug red-head – bowed twice and waved as a massive applause rained down on her.
Jane just stood there, a dazed look on her face as she realized she had been defeated.
But how–? I didn't–
She saw Hayato lifting his hands and slowly clapping at her loss.
Fantastic.
Now, her eyes glided over the heads of people, seeking out her father's dark-grey hair. He was getting up from his seat near the front, a phone against his ear. He was arguing with the person on the other side of the line. When he noticed her, he shouted: "Great job, honey!" with his hand on the phone for a moment and a thumbs up.
If it wasn't embarrassing enough already.
In the car home, she held the shining, second-place cup in her lap while staring out the window. Hayato watched as her hands started to tense around the silver frame.
Jane was mad, blazing with it. Not that she couldn't take a beating. No. She had learned how to loose properly to her cousins. But she really wanted to accomplish something on her own. Something that was hers without the safety of her family name.
…
The next morning when she woke she decided she never wanted pick up a sword again. It was no use anyways. The Home Land had reminded her of the influence of her father's company everywhere she went. Perhaps across the ocean, where she'd always wanted to go, in the colonies. Now there she could reinvent herself.
Since the war began seven years back, Jane had always wondered what it was like there. Of course she'd heard rumors and stories, but those only described barbaric and uncivilized races that smelled, couldn't read or write and didn't know electricity, physics or any other type of technical development Britannians were so advanced with.
Jane doubted they were all like that. That couldn't be the case, could it? There had to be at least some cultural and genetic differences, for as the professors claimed they all looked and acted the same primitive way. Highly unlikely. Even those who had never crossed the border – including herself – could not honestly believe this lie. The lie of cultivating the barbarians. It was easier to justify the Emperor's actions when anyone and everyone was the enemy and allies could only be found in common blood. We were a union, a strong front that could take anything and would take it at will, by force if necessary. This makes people do crazy things – the possibility to rule them all. They would provoke each other, Jane had seen firsthand, the members of the House of Lords, heated yelling, initiating the desire for more. More power. And soon followed the need for that power once having tasted it. Without it, they wouldn't survive; they would be nobody and that prospect was terrifying beyond belief, more than anything else. It was incredible and frightening to see at the same time.
It seemed as if it was Britannia against the world, and the world against Britannia. As if the earth had never been one to begin with and the two sides had always been that exactly: separated.
She stared at the ceiling, which was staring back at her as dull and plain as the rest of her room. And her life.
Besides the union, the inciting and the crave for more, there was the pride, along with the patriotism and nationalism the Royal Family in particular emphasized and propagandized. And if there was one thing Jane couldn't stand, it was that. So, no, she didn't agree when her grandfather declared men were not equal from birth based on their genetics alone. It were their skills and talents that would make them superior, albeit they wouldn't use them right. Anyone saying otherwise is lying, as a hierarchy is essential to create and maintain order and peace among people. Chaos was even worse than discrimination.
Hayato refused to tell her anything though, about the 'outside', with the pathetic excuse that he couldn't remember his time in Area 11 as he was very young when he left (or better yet, was taken away). Jane knew he had been forced from his homeland but not why and by whom.
She rubbed her forehead and groaned. Lying in bed and letting her thoughts run free about the world's biggest worries all day didn't seem like a bad idea. Of course this was denied.
"I know you're awake. I could hear you thinking down the hallway," Hayato said as he walked passed her bed and threw the curtains open. She had her eyes closed and breathing steady. 'Technically impossible, Hayato. Even for someone as capable as you,' she thought.
"You can stop pretending now. I'm not going to give you another hour, like the past few days," he continued, halting at her desk and seeing a shimmering inside the garbage can standing next to it.
She responded with an indistinct murmur he placed in the category 'cranky', turning away from him and burying herself in a cocoon of blankets. And he fished the trophy from the trash and set it on her nightstand, with a rather loud thud.
That made her stop 'sleeping' and roll over slowly to look at him. She sighed after she had noticed what he had done. Maybe she would continue fencing. She was sure Hayato would force her if needed.
Never did he question her actions though and she was glad now was no exception.
He waited beside the bed as she sat up straight, "Sometimes I wonder who's working for who here," she mumbled quietly.
Not reacting to her words, Hayato silently held the porcelain socket he had filled with water before entering her room and she took the washcloth from his arm and cleaned her face.
The rest of her morning routine happened in silence as well, two housemaids, Maura and Lavender, helping her getting dressed. They chatted to each other as if she was a mere doll they were adorning with clothes and jewelry. Don't misunderstand. She did like them to some degree, but just not that much.
Once downstairs, in the dining hall – which was quite a long way down, three staircases and then through two corridors – Jane sat at the long, long table, all by herself. Her feet were cold from the marble floor but she refused to put socks and shoes on just yet, wanting to wiggle her toes freely outside their soon-to-be imprisonment a little longer. Breakfast was served then and she ate the toast and eggs with a sort of apathy that worried Hayato.
"Haven't you slept well, Lady Jane?" He wondered from his standing position behind her.
Jane shrugged and opened the newspaper lying next to her plate, her eyes scanning over an article about a press conference her father had held the day before about the release of some new canon MECHA industries had designed.
"When is my father coming back from Osaka?" She asked suddenly after a few minutes of silence, not taking her eyes off the paper and chewing away her toast.
When Hayato didn't answer, she finally dragged her face up to meet his. "Well?"
She had changed a lot over the past years, too much to his liking. Starting to look like her father more, hard and demanding as if it was her right. All to a lesser extent, but still. The innocence had made place for a cruel knowledge that went beyond her understanding, which frustrated her. It didn't come as a surprise to him that Jane now choose the naivety above the truth. One hell of a truth.
In the safety of her family's embrace and the giant mansion's walls, nothing could harm her. Yet the outside was coming closer and she was reaching out for it, desperate for contact she had been denied all her youth. There isn't much you can refuse someone like Jane, especially now, at the age of seventeen.
She didn't go to a regular school nor to a private one. Homeschooled as she was, the loneliness became overwhelming at times. The fact she had no siblings and friends of her own, and no children from relatives or associates of her father, also added up to the chunk of emotions building up inside her. Damned hormones. Anyways, Hayato felt sorry for her and that's why he was guilty of letting her 'escape' sometimes.
"I believe he will return tomorrow evening."
Jane took a sip of her tea.
"He told me to give you this, as an early birthday present."
Before Jane realized it, he shoved quite a large box underneath her nose. She took it from him, a surprised smile lighting up her face. "But my birthday is in two months… What is it?" He motioned for her to open it.
"I don't believe it!" She exclaimed when two big, brown puppy eyes gazed up at her as soon as she had lifted the top. The dog barked in that moment, wagging its tail.
She took it in her hands and petted its head, murmuring 'you cute little boy'. It was a grey-brownish color with fluffy hair that stood in every direction and a curled tail, though the most captivating part were his eyes. Jane was fixed on them.
"What are you going to call him?" Hayato wondered, suddenly feeling rivalry between him and the little lapdog for Jane's attention. But he saw some of the childish innocence she had before shine in her eyes again.
He thought she hadn't heard him since it took her a while to answer, but when she finally did she said: "Odin."
The major Norse god of war and victory. The name just came to her. She didn't need to know why. Hayato frowned.
"Odin?"
She smiled, "Perfect." And Odin just blinked at her meaninglessly.
…
"Order! Order!" The tumult in the meeting room didn't die down completely and Adrian Godfrey sighed audibly, shaking his head.
'Why… why was it these people didn't know their place?'
"Gentlemen! Please!"
Both Hildred and Eunice weren't present, which was unusual to say the least – this only being the third time the board had come together without their chairman, normally then it was via a hologram. The only female member of the House of Lords, Eunice Ann Marie Marshall, Adrian's cousin, was a very exceptional woman. A decades-year-old tradition broken for her participation in the council was a very impressive accomplishment indeed.
But Adrian needn't complain either. As his new aspiration was just a hair's breath away: becoming the new Minister of Foreign Affairs. It had come to his attention that the Prime Minister – Second Prince Scheizel – was having disagreements with his current minister. And before this news spread like running fire, he had to take action. He had always been on very good grounds with Schneizel el Britannia and he was very pleased with his policy when it came to politics. A political genius, he liked to call the prince. He could anticipate and solve problematic situations before anyone had even knew something was wrong.
As of yet, he hadn't come any further than the House of Lords – House of Lunatics is more like it – and for a few years that had been enough, but now he wanted more. More power. He felt like he wasn't fulfilling his full potential here, wasting away at the will of the masses, even here where only rich aristocrats contributed in the voting. Seemed almost like a damned democracy.
Adrian ticked with his pen on the wooden table in front of him impatiently, letting the vice-president struggle to return the silence. The men were particularly restless today and it was about to get even worse.
As if fallen from the sky, the Prime Minister suddenly came into the room, several guards and advisers behind him.
"P-prime Minister!" The vice-president stuttered and immediately everyone rose from their seats, saluting their prince like the good imperial subjects they were. Adrian included.
"To what do we owe the honor, Your Highness?"
Adrian thought it was strange. It was against regulation for an outsider of the council to interrupt a meeting like this, but on the other hand the Royal Family was the law so therefore Schneizel could be denied nothing.
"Noble Lords," Schneizel began seriously after he had made his way over to the head of the table, "Please forgive my unannounced admission but I'm afraid I have some terrible news." He paused a moment, then: "A real crisis has occurred in which I need your help, gentlemen."
It was the first time Adrian decided to open his mouth, "Your Majesty, we are at your service." He received a barely visible smile.
"I'm very pleased to hear that, sir Adrian." He said, "I'll just cut to the chase then…"
…
Several sea-gulls screeched loudly as they flew overhead.
When Adrian entered the outside world again, he felt a weight on his shoulders, one that was heavier than he liked and got heavier with each step he took forward, to the future.
He could see the Imperial Palace, in all its glory, lying in the distance.
This wasn't going to end well, he knew that all too well. And what would become of them? Everything was at stake here; they had all to lose. Even though he had no ambitions when it came to the family business, he didn't want it to go down in ruins either, which would likely happen after this ordeal. The rivalry between the members of the Godfrey family and of course also the other shareholders would erupt and cause mass destruction. Not only within the family and the company, but the Britannian economy would suffer as well.
Scheizel's worry had been the possibility of the Purists taking this opportunity to rebel against the Britannian government – that had, according to them, acted too weak in the colonies. Not only could they use this time of chaos to push their own agenda forward, they could pressure the board of MECHA Industries to choose a candidate of their liking. And this would mean the end of the monopoly the Royal family had enjoyed on their productions.
The failing policies in Area Eleven that was directly under his brother Clovis' jurisdiction had been a longer topic of dissatisfaction amongst the Purists. Especially honorary citizenship. Richard had played his role perfectly, keeping both the Purists and the Royal family happy. But now was an opening… an opening they would surely try to take….
'Although…' Adrian thought, 'perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing that Britannia's number one Knightmare frame provider would disappear in thin air…'
It would mean the end of war– but his poor brother had had to die in the process.
"Sir Adrian!" Someone called for him from behind, "Sir!"
"Yes?"
Lieutenant Colonel Henry Fayer jogged out of the building to catch up with Adrian. A man with a thick, brown mustache, an ordinary posture and a 'soft on foreigners' kind of approach, according to Adrian. Once he had finally reached him, he was slightly out of breath.
"Yes, how can I help you?" Adrian stated, starting to get impatient now. He had never liked military personal and the fact a rather high-ranked one was wasting his time, was not pleasing him at all.
"Sir," Fayer breathed loudly, recollecting himself, "Prince Schneizel asked me to inform you I am traveling to Area 11 this evening. He suggested you would come with, since our fleet is the fastest transportation."
"The Prime Minister suggested that?"
Fayer nodded.
"How many of you people know about this?" Sudden paranoia kicked in. The assassination of one family member, the most important one at that, meant he wasn't safe.
"Well, just me, Sir." Fayer answered honestly.
With a sigh, Adrian closed his eyes for a moment, "Fine then." He turned away from Fayer and continued his way. Last minute, he threw over his shoulder, as a thought occurred to him: "Arrange two more seats if you please!"
Fayer frowned and the question 'who for?' bubbled on his lips but he swallowed them down. He had learned never to doubt men like Adrian Godfrey. He made a salutation, "I will see it done!"
It had been quite a long time since he had seen more than three-fourth of the Godfreys, which didn't bother him in the slightest. He hated most of them. Loathed them really. And it was doubtless that the feeling was mutual. Not like with his brother, whom everyone had adored.
Clearly, Richard's position had not been as secure as he made believe. He hadn't been fit for the job. But who would?
…
After noon, having spent hours studying, Jane was walking in the garden with her new dog. Odin wasn't trained very well. He was pulling on the leash like a maniac, finding the tiniest things as a ladybug or blowing leaf so fascinating that he had to chase after it. He just had to.
Jane was in a terrific mood though. Nothing could burst her bubble. Absolutely nothing.
She then even decided to hold a little running competition with Odin, who was glad to comply. She ran, Odin following her, the leash swinging behind him, until she tripped and let herself fall into the grass.
Her laughs sounded through the whole garden.
A pair of dark eyes was watching her from behind one of the high windows at the front of the mansion. A black receiver was pressed against Hayato's right ear. It lowered slowly when the news he just heard got through to him. His limps started to feel numb and his throat went dry.
He had difficulty gathering the will to go outside.
Finally, when he had reached Jane, his hands were shaking and his face pale. She immediately knew something was wrong.
She sunk to the ground on her knees when the dreaded words left his mouth. Frozen, as if the world – her world – had come to an abrupt halt. The sun was no longer beautiful and warm on her skin, but useless and insignificant. Her eyes clouded, Odin whined at her, jumping against her.
Hayato lowered himself as well. She then flew in his arms, knocking him over on his back. He accepted her grief without a sound, pushing the stabbing pain in his right ribcage an old wound caused him as the handle of his sword poked into it when she collided with him away.
Now her cries and sobs echoed between the trees, sharp and full of hurt.
…
The news of her father's death was beyond terrible. How could this have happened? Why did people do these horrible things? Who are these people? How could he leave me like this?!
Nobody had told her the details but 'terrorist attack' in Osaka was all she wanted to know for now. She had screamed for hours, letting everything out in a storm surge of verbal abuse and emotions. Her throat hurt like hell as a result. And now there was nothing left.
She felt all life had been drained from her.
Odin was sleeping in her lap and Hayato, as always, was by her side
Opposite of her, a young man about her own age sat. His blond hair was a mess around his head and his eyes… the most sparkling blue eyes Jane had ever seen. If eyes would've been able to actually smile, she was sure his would be the top piece.
He had introduced himself as 'Gino Weinberg' and Hayato had whispered to her their family's had close ties. The Weinbergs? She tried hard to remember that name, but she couldn't place it.
His handshake had been very firm and welcoming, as if greeting an old friend. She had to admit that his casualness towards her was refreshing. She liked him instantly.
Later Jane discovered that Gino Weinberg had been assigned to escort her to Area 11, as a favor of the Weinberg family – he was a knight you see – all the way to the front door of her grandfather's estate there, located in the so-called 'Tokyo Settlement'. Why Hayato was deemed incapable of this was beyond her.
Gino was, in the meantime, babbling away about how interesting he thought the Elevens were. He had clearly been to Area 11 before, which piqued Jane's curiosity of his knowledge about their culture and habits – as he named a few 'strange' ones. However, it added to her sense of inferiority towards anyone that had seen more of the world than she. Only then did she realize she was not only leaving what was familiar to her behind, she was trading it for the land of the terrorists. The barbarians that killed her father lived on that island. And she was to call it her new home…
Her eyes glided to the tiny window to her left, where only clouds and dark blue met her gaze.
It was strange… she knew how she should feel but somehow couldn't muster that feeling to surface. When a child loses a parent, a part of it is lost, cut away. It feels abandoned, lonely and scared. She understood then, as she went over the words in her mind, that she could feel none of them. Only nausea, nervousness and an overwhelming need to punch somebody in the face. But her body simply couldn't manage that strength.
That could change once she had seen her father's lifeless body, laying in a coffin, with her own eyes. She still couldn't believe she would never see him smile again, holding her and telling her jokes. He would be walking through the door any minute now, telling her it was all a joke, a damn cruel joke, but at least it wasn't real. Oh, she would give a limp for that to happen.
The fact she didn't feel abandoned probably had something to do with her father's demanding travelling over the past few years. Hayato had practically taken over his role as her guardian and he was still here, with her.
She flashed him a look, confirming he was indeed still in his seat next to her.
Sadness… now that she could identify with easily. And anger. Anger for the injustice that pollutes the earth as small-minded nitwits continue to inhabit it. That was at the front of her mind.
It was just the three of them in the compartment and if Jane had not been so caught up with her own thoughts she might've even started an actual conversation with the kind stranger in front of her. But as it was, she stayed utterly mute, only nodding and smiling affirmatively sometimes as he spoke. Fortunately, Hayato answered for her several times, and Gino didn't seem to mind conversing with him instead of Jane in the least bit. He even appeared to prefer him. His sympathy for the Eleven was incredibly peculiar. Perhaps that was his nature, to be generally kind to everyone, or maybe he had other motives. Either way, Jane admired the respect he showed, as if they were all equals.
She fell asleep half-way through the flight with her cheek pressed against Hayato's shoulder.
Gino had left to discuss something with the captain during Jane's slumber and Hayato was glad to have some breathing time. He didn't have anything against the kid. Their backgrounds were just too different, as were the worlds they lived in. He, Gino, surely a spoilt child, spending his youth in a wealthy environment, kind and selfless; no flaws, no limits, no worries. Then he, the 'Falcon', earned through hard work, nothing ever handed to him, introvert, precise. The samurai principles personified. Who was more accomplished now? Decided by humankind, the one at the top of the social ladder: Gino Weinberg.
Jane looked exhausted, Hayato noticed when he pushed Gino Weinberg from his thoughts, the dark shadows underneath her closed eyelids in large contrast with her pale façade. She had cooped incredibly well with the drastic news. He was sure though the real breaking point was yet to come. And when that happened, he would be there to catch her when she fell.
He could study her like this for hours, observe silently, seeing her face in such a relaxed, serene state a true rarity. And he did.
'Rest well, my princess,' he brushed a bit of hair covering her forehead to the side.
At the same time, Adrian, Richard's younger brother, coughed while he approached their cubicle.
Hayato's hand stilled. In a flash, his other already around the grip of his sword. But once he had registered the intruder, he relaxed, but only partly.
"I need to speak with my cousin in private," Adrian said, loud enough for Jane to wake with a start. 'How dare he touch her?'
Adrian was in almost every way the exact opposite of his older brother, and therefore his daughter too. His hair was a much lighter shade, more brown than black, and his eyes were smaller, less clear and penetrating. Although he was more toned than Richard, he was also shorter, which made him look slightly bulky. Glasses on his nose, an old-fashioned dark jacket, grey slacks and nice shoes and that was all there was to say about Adrian Godfrey. Well, also an unhealthy interest in politics and a stamp collection as a hobby.
He commanded Hayato to leave with a curt movement of his chin.
For some reason Odin followed him as he exited the compartment, jumping off Jane's legs before stretching its own paws, and the glass door slid closed behind him.
Jane looked through the window again, this time witnessing the orange and red glows of the rising sun above Area 11 as her uncle told her what was expected of her from that moment on.
