The Last Night of the World

Chapter 1

Awakening Need

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"Can this single moment last forever?
This moment, created by
Two easily swayed human hearts?"
- Isaac Dornkirk, Emperor of Zaibach during the Great War of Gaea

-

Five years later…

It was mid-summer, and the streets of Tokyo bustled with throngs of people. Children pulled on their mothers' skirts, begging for an ice cream cone; gaggles of schoolgirls oohed and aahed over the latest fads displayed by merchants eager for their business; and lovers sauntered by, hand-in-hand, their parasols shielding them from the hot sun and sheltering them in a world of their own. The air was filled with the busy chatter of a city filled with millions of people whose lives constantly intersected with one other, whose encounters were often of little consequence, catching only glimpses of the stories of strangers.

One shop window held a display of rows of plates and platters, neatly lined up behind each other on a swath of blue-and-white silk, standing on their edges to catch the attention of passers-by. A young woman with two long, brown braids of hair underneath a wide-brimmed hat stood at the window, perusing the china.

This china is too nice to for me to just walk away without thinking about it. But it must be so expensive! She touched the small red purse that hung by a strap from her left shoulder, and the sun glinted off a ring on her hand. There's no way we can afford it. Might as well add it to the bridal registry.

As she turned to enter the shop, something made her pause. The woman stepped closer to the glass and touched it with her hand. On one of the plates, which was snow-white with a molded border, was the raised detail of single feather, centered at the bottom.

The windowpane reflected green eyes that were filled with uncertainty. What was this sudden feeling of unease? It had been five years already, and it wasn't like her to swoon at the sight of every feather she came across. In front of her, the three diamonds on the ring she wore on her finger seemed to wink knowingly.

She had her own life—didn't she?

She was happy—wasn't she?

Without a backward glance, Kanzaki Hitomi turned on her heel and ran.

-

"Your Majesty!"

Van Slanzar de Fanel looked up in surprise as the great doors to the throne room crashed open. One of the pages, a mere boy of fifteen, collapsed to one knee and bowed his head in genuflection, breathing heavily from exertion.

"Your Majesty!" the boy exclaimed, between breaths. "Fanelia…Fanelia is falling as we speak…as if by some invisible force!"

Van was on his feet in an instant. He gave a quick nod to each of the Basram diplomats before him. "Take to your ships and flee as fast as possible. We will continue this discussion later."

The two willowy men murmured in assent and hastily scurried off.

As he ran down the throne room, he called for his generals. "Sabin! Maltek!" he barked, and two men in hulking armor appeared at his side.

"Yes, Majesty!"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Sabin, I want you to reinforce the troops at the garrisons and hold off the enemy to the best of your ability. Maltek, I'd like you to lead the First and Second Divisions in a repartee and report back to me immediately with anything you find."

"Yes, Your Highness," the two samurai replied in unison, and split off in different directions.

Van continued to run, tightly grasping the hilt of his sword, until he reached the palace gates. There, from atop the vista that overlooked the city below, the full extent of the destruction was made clear: towers, once proud and strong, crumbled as if made of sand; bridges collapsed as if from a crushing weight; and buildings toppled into the streets onto the townspeople fleeing in terror.

His knees trembled, and he staggered as though he had been punched in the gut. No…not again! Please, not again!

Then, gritting his teeth, he sprinted for the Guymelef enclosure, where Escaflowne was held, past the creaking ranks of mechanical armor that were mobilizing for battle. Is it Zaibach? No, that can't be. They've lost their top military tacticians, and Emperor Dornkirk has been dead for years. Dilandau no longer exists, either. None of the other nations are advanced enough to produce cloaking devices. So who on Gaea could have created more invisible Guymelefs?

When Van reached the enclosure, he scrambled to the pedestal in the middle of the building, nestled inside ring after ring of white-and-green metal bands, which he fancied operated like the cogs of a giant clockwork machine. On the small round platform, there was now a stone chest engraved with the royal crest of Fanelia. He slipped his fingers under the edge of the crest and it snapped up like a latch, uncovering a keyhole. Reaching inside his robes, he produced a large keyring and selected a long gold key, unscratched and untarnished from disuse, bearing the same crest. He inserted it into the chest and turned it until he felt a click, and then opened the lid.

Inside, resting in a cushioned hollow in the stone casing, was a Drag-energist, the same one he had used to power Escaflowne in the Great War of Gaea. He picked it up. It lay heavily in his hand; its warmth was unsettling, and it seemed to pulse dimly. With a flick of his thumb, Van exposed the blade of his sword. That was a long time ago, so I'd better make sure to do it again, he thought, and slit the fleshy part of his thumb on the blade. He let the blood run down his hand onto the energist, which glowed more brightly as it gained life from his blood.

Standing up, Van held the flesh-colored orb high above his head, pointing it at a boulder the size of a small building that hung suspended from the high, vaulted ceiling. This is exactly like that time, five years ago, he thought. The enclosure, with its entrance directed away from the valley, was almost impermeable to the sounds of fighting below. The silence in the spacious chamber was resounding. Except…there's only me, now. He closed his eyes and touched the front of his robe, fingers resting on the small bulge of the rose-colored pendant that he wore underneath.

Hitomi…

The memory of Hitomi struck at his heart—the limpid green of her eyes, her gentle smile; and suddenly, an inexplicable fear consumed him. His grip on the energist weakened, and his hand fell to his side like a heavy weight. He fell to his knees, breathless, clutching his chest, and the energist rolled out of his hand and onto one of the metal belts that encircled the pedestal.

Get a hold of yourself, Van! You can't lose your head like this in the middle of a crisis!

Fighting the terrible fear welling up inside of him, Van stumbled to where the energist had fallen and retrieved it. He climbed back up on the pedestal and held the glowing ball aloft.

"I, Van Fanel, King of Fanelia," he began, his voice cracking. He swallowed, and then more firmly, continued. "I bind myself by blood pact to thee, Escaflowne! Thou sleeping dragon, awake!"

The energist glowed even brighter, until it illuminated the enclosure like a small sun, and the painted metal belts around the pedestal groaned and whirred into motion. The whole building shook with the force of the mechanical awakening, and cracks began to snake their way through the rugged surface of the rock above him. With a sound like thunder, the rock split into pieces, hurtling away into the far reaches of the room. Van shielded his face from the debris raining down on him as the ivory hulk of Escaflowne, the dragon armor of Fanelia, descended in all its legendary glory.

It landed, resting on one knee, with the other bent as if providing a platform to allow Van easier access to the hexagonal energist chamber on its chest. Van climbed up the leg and leaped up so he was level with the chamber, which began to glow as he came near. He inserted the energist, hand and all, pushing through the crimson chamber as though trying to move through congealed blood. Once it was in place, he removed his hand and absent-mindedly gave it a flick as if shaking off the sticky blood of the dragon's heart.

The energist, a dark, round shadow in the middle of the chamber, began to pulse. Escaflowne's heartbeat. My heartbeat. With a swift motion, Van cast off his cumbersome ceremonial robes, the ones he wore when receiving an audience, uncovering a green, sleeveless tunic, tied with a belt around the waist, and black silk pants tucked into the tops of brown, ornamented leather boots. Not the most appropriate attire for waging war, but that was the best he could do, for now.

The cockpit of the Guymelef opened with a hiss on Van's silent command, and he was about to jump inside when the energist chamber began to glow brightly, increasing in intensity until its pulsing heart was all he could see.

What the…

Hitomi's pendant, which lay on his chest from a chain around his neck, floated in front of him, its rosy jewel barely penetrating the crimson light that flooded his vision. Then, it too began to emit its own light, pulsing with the energist as if communicating with it in some ancient, forgotten language.

What's going on?

There was the sensation of movement, of something drawing him upwards, but his feet remained firmly planted on Escaflowne's surface. And just when Van thought things could not get any more bizarre, there was a sudden flash of hot, white light, and everything—Escaflowne, the pendant, his own hand—disappeared from view.

-

Hitomi ran as fast as she could. She had hitched up the skirt of her yellow sundress with one hand to keep it from getting tangled between her legs. When she neared the intersection, a large grocery truck roared by in front of her, forcing her to veer left at the corner. Her purse flapped behind her like a helpless banner, and her sandals beat against the sun-baked pavement in a panicked rhythm. She ignored the cries of surprise and outrage from the people she pushed by. There were even some shouts of "Hey, lady! What's wrong?" Children scattered before her like frightened birds, and people stopped and stared. Yet she continued to run.

Why she was running, she could not say, except that fear, rooted somewhere deep inside, had bloomed like a nightshade and would not release her from its poisonous tendrils. And where could she run to? After all, the source of her flight was inside of her, and all the kilometers in the world could not put any distance between them. But run she must, out of instinct, out of desperation.

She did not know how far she had gone, but she found herself in a small park at the edge of the district. Her heart felt as if it were about to burst, but she did not slow down. Then, a blinding shaft of light pierced the ground in front of her, a jagged line dividing her vision in half.

Lightning? was her last rational thought before momentum propelled her headlong into the blast. Briefly, she saw the angular outline of a familiar, otherworldly giant, and a man with a head of black hair. Her heart leaped at the sight of the proud angle of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the elegant slant of his eyebrows; her heart leapt, but the gut-wrenching fear grew deeper and spread to her belly, bubbling up through her stomach and threatening to swallow her. Her steps began to falter.

"Van?" she gasped.

The young man with Van's face seemed perplexed, but he reached down with his hand. "Hitomi?"

Without really thinking about why, she reached up in response. Their hands came into contact, and Hitomi's arm threatened to wrench out of its socket as she suddenly decelerated and was hauled up onto the armored giant. As the beam of light engulfed her, her only sensations were of the cool metal surface of Escaflowne's knee and the taut tendons of Van's forearm as she clung to him, trying not to fall off as she was spirited away to Gaea, the land of the two moons, of the dreams of Atlantis, of the skies where angels flew, once upon a time.