Darl was a good man, somewhere deep down. He knew that. His Wife had said he was; his son had. His little daughters thought him a Hero. A long time ago. Long time ago...
Here he was, consuming venison stew like some rank monster, tipping it down his throat with the spoon, it only recently becoming cool enough to consume. Seconds later, it was gone, it's contents licked out and the bowl and spoon set down neatly. He nodded his thanks at the cook; but he was still hungry.
Merle kept looking at him. He wasn't like the Zaibach Soldiers she'd seen. They tended to be dark-haired and zealous, boisterous and crazy. This man looked defeated, with his ragged blonde hair and scruffy beard. Like a Wolf beaten into the ground; again and again.
"Hey, what's your name, anyway?"
"Darl." Fomfostradt was a name he rarely used; it was too proud and exotic. The name of a different name.
"I'm Merle." Her paw-like hand shot out, and it was dwarfed by Darl's strained, broad hand. "You were really hungry. How long since you've eaten?" He snorted in response, rubbing his palms together with great thought.
"3 night, 2 days and this morning." Merle's eyes opened in shock; every Fanelian got a meal everyday, and he was a Samurai barely getting a meal a week? That was an outrage. Merle shivered at the thought of Van going through something similar to this man.
"Come on, let's get you to Lord Van." He shivered, visibly, before rising from the stool. Why was he so reluctant to meet Lord Van? He'd probably heard the tales of how Escaflowne had massacred the Dragonslayers, with crazed efficiency.
But it didn't seem like that. There wasn't an ounce of fear on his face; just resignation. Like the traitors of Asturia who'd been hanged after the War. They trawled quickly through the streets; this part of the city was really loud and crowded, as everyone worked to rebuild each part of the City. Lord Van was always up at the Palace, with Hitomi, working on organising everything.
It was a short work up stairs from the streets to the Palace Courtyard. A table that was awfully familiar to Darl was covered in papers, inkwells, and had an awfully familiar young man standing over it, with dark hair, a red tunic and white trousers. Merle waved, shouted, but Darl had stopped. Van was staring at him; a semblance of the anger he'd had in the war pinned on the Soldier. To his credit, he didn't flinch.
"Merle! Get back, that's a Zaibach soldier!" Sword drawn, Van was running. Until, of course, Merle hissed and shot up her hackles.
"The war isn't on anymore, you big meanie!" She gave him a harsh shove, to both Darl and Van's shock.
"He was the Leader of Zaibach after Dornkirk's death." Van proclaimed, prompting some armed men to begin to gather.
"So? Zaibach doesn't exist anymore." Merle was vehemous in defending her new found friend, but Darl showed the first bit of backbone.
"As I recall, Fanelia, it was your leaving that unleashed the hounds upon my Country." It was said through gritted teeth, and the guards touched hands to weapons.
Merle, unexpectedly, pushed him.
"Shut up." The ferocious little beast girl was making her point, and would not be interrupted.
"This guy, Darl, he's a Samurai who's been hiding in the streets helping rebuild Fanelia, with barely any food and having to sleep in alleyways! You can go through them all; you won't find a window without a curtain or a roof with a hole in. He deserves a little respect!" There was a new look upon her face, pinned directly at Lord Van; a rare case of her berating him. The look that said 'You should be ashamed of yourself'.
In response, Van softened, speaking in a light tone of warmth. He sighed, and nodded.
"Alright. If Merle will vouch for you, I can't argue. Just tell me...Did you support burning Fanelia to the ground?" The Dragon's eyes fell upon the Wolf's, and it was obvious to all that Darl would not lie.
"The Destruction of Fanelia was an idiot's decision. I was General Adelphus' Chief of Staff at the time. When Folken informed General Adelphus and I of his plans, we immediately refused to divert troops, unless we received written permission from Emperor Dornkirk." Darl spoke with concise and
"But Dornkirk couldn't write at that point"
"Exactly. So he used Dilandau. The rest..." Darl kicked a cinder away from his food "is history."
Satisfied with his answer, Van nodded.
"I can offer you a place to sleep, and regular meals...And if you can beat me in combat, you can become my Captain." He grinned a benevolent grin; noone beat Lord Van. If he could hold his own for awhile, he'd be offered a position as a Soldier.
They moved to an empty area of the Courtyard; Darl was handed a decent sword. It wasn't like his own, though that had been personally made for him. But it would do. Van nimbly unsheathed the Sword of the House of Fanel. It was at this point that Hitomi emerged from the Palace, holding numerous burnt clothes. Van liked showing off to her. She shook her head, a smile on her face.
Darl attacked, ferociously, barging into the smaller Van with his shoulder as he was distracted. The blade flashed, narrowly avoiding severing Van's arm. In response, the Prince drew back and clashed his sword against the Zaibach's. Without thinking, Darl countered with an underhanded blow; as his right arm held the sword, his left struck a blow to Van's right shoulder with the heel of his hand. Off balance, Darl's foot hooked Van's leg and threw him onto his back. But the Fanelian was not done yet. His sword came up, slashing at Darl's sword hand. The weapon fell from the Soldier's hand, and many assumed it was over.
And it was. As Van rolled to his feet, Darl was there, inside his guard. A knee to the groin and 3 lightning quick punches to the face stunned him, and caused a broken nose. Gripping the sword wrist of the Fanelian Prince, Darl applied pressure to the nerve ending under his thumb; the sword clattered to the ground, and a ferocious headbutt sent King Van into unconsciousness.
Easily 10 swords appeared at Darl's throat.
"HEY! He beat Lord Van! He's your CAPTAIN!" Merle's voice was thick with outrage, and her face covered in triumph. But the Guards did not bear looks of anger. But astonishment. Lord Van had indeed beaten this man with the sword. But his fists had beaten their King into the ground with such efficiency, it defied belief.
Hitomi was already at Van's side, slapping gently at his cheek. She'd come just for a quick visit of a few hours. Occasionally, her sparkling eyes glared up at Darl. Blood was pouring from Van's nose.
The Soldier's voice echoed over the awkward silence.
"Hold his head forward and get some cold water. If his blood is thin, he may die, so do it quickly."
They did not move. A semblance of Colonel Fomfostradt returned as his eyes opened wide and he leaned against the blades.
"NOW!"
Then 9 men were gone, with one outstretched blade at Darl's throat.
A few hours later, Van lay in the badly repaired Palace chambers, Hitomi at his side, blankets over him and a cool cloth on his nose. Darl knelt at his feet.
"Where did you learn to fight like that?" The King asked, his eyes burning with a mix of embarrassment and respect.
"Killing Asturians."
"Asturians don't fight like that."
Darl nodded, cracking his neck riggidly.
"No. But you fight like an Asturian. Allen Schezar trained you?"
Van's eyes now took with recognition, and he nodded. It was close enough.
"Thought so. You're too good not to be. Well, I don't fight by rules. In the trenches, it's not about honour, it's about getting out alive. I've killed 3 Knights of Caeli in my time; 2 with my bare hands, 1 in my Guymelef. Have you ever heard of Tunram?" Darl started to rub his hands together as he looked up at the badly-repaired roof.
"No, I haven't." But it seemed irrelevant.
"Didn't think so. Anyway, I'll take my leave." He went to turn around, but crossed spears blocked his path.
"Your first duty is to get some decent weapons and armour. Captain."
