Not a Total Waste of an Evening

Not A Total Waste of an Evening

DISCLAIMER: Escaflowne and the Disney song mentioned here are still on my wish list. And no genies are popping out of all the lamps I've rubbed so these wishes have yet to be fulfilled.

Chapter 10: All Things Considered

NOTE: This is the final chapter. The die is cast. A longer message will follow. Read on.

"Don't worry, Lord Folken," Princess Eries had said, "this thing will work itself out."

"I certainly hope so, Princess," he had replied, his hand on his forehead, nursing a splitting headache, "but Dilandau has a way of making a lasting impression."

The click of the Strategos' boots on the metal floors echoed across the deserted hallway. Apparently, the residents of the flying fortress Vione had retired to their bed chambers. Folken sighed and envied their unperturbed states of mind. He did not have that luxury because he was constantly on call to sort out all the problems caused by citizens of the Zaibach Empire and to make sure that international relations remained favorable to them. This task, however, had proven to be increasingly difficult especially tonight when he had to employ all his diplomatic skills to cover up a grand scandal. And it didn't help that he who had been the root cause of all the uproar was still nowhere to be seen.

Folken was certain that Dilandau would show up sooner or later but the older man was still unsure of what approach he was to use to reprimand the youth. None of his previous attempts had been successful at driving his point through the boy's thick, stubborn skull. Dilandau Albatou had always been impulsive and insubordinate but all his actions had always remained within the borderline of acceptable behavior. That boy had always been so guarded and careful.

Tonight, however, Dilandau had seemed quite changed. He had exhibited an outrageous disregard for social norms and had gone and did what he pleased. All the boy's superiors, especially General Adelphos, had been beside themselves with rage and they made no qualms about expressing their displeasure. Folken had had to calm them down as well or risk causing another scene in the already chaotic Asturian ball room.

The more Folken thought about the matter, the more perplexed he became. What had caused Dilandau to lose control like that? At first, it had been amusing, and even pleasing to see the young captain finally exerting some effort to engage in social activities. However, as was his habit, Dilandau went overboard. But this was the first time he did it in the sight of so many important, international personalities. And Dilandau was well aware of the consequences.

Whatever the enigmatic motives the boy had, Folken was certain of one thing: all this had something to do with the girl. He looked down at the item he held in his organic hand. He had retrieved it from the Asturian technicians. It was a tiny, white machine which seemed capable of storing a vast amount of music, and it was the only remaining evidence that there had indeed been a strange girl at the ball that night.

Seraphina Cervantes she said her name was. A very odd creature. Her arrival at that evening gala had gone practically unnoticed. Even Princess Eries, who knew the guest list for that event, was at a loss to recognizing the girl. Both Eries and Folken had discussed the matter at length while they were watching the young couple dance. Neither of them had wanted to do the girl the dishonor of suspecting her to be a gate crasher. Her manners and speech suggested that she had some form of education and breeding and she certainly seemed dressed for the event. But her origins had been hard to determine. Her accent and speech did not indicate that she was from any of the major nations of Gaea. Her clothing was equally foreign and unrecognizable. But considering there were so many smaller ethnicities represented in that ball of international cooperation, it was not surprising to see some peculiar costumes. She did not have any physical features common to the major ethnic groups of Gaea as well. As much as she was delightful, Seraphina Cervantes also seemed altogether alien.

Then, there was her strange connection to Dilandau. Listening to the two people converse during dinner, Folken felt certain that such familiarity of tone was a result of prior acquaintance. And yet, neither of them felt inclined to admit that they had met before. But surprises never ceased that night. After revenging himself on her for being slighted over what seemed to be nothing more than a glass of vino, Dilandau had strangely come to her rescue and had claimed engaging her for all the dances of the night. What was even more astonishing was that she had not denied his offer and had even declined that of Allen Schezar.

Folken was well aware of the Knight Caeli's popular reputation among the women in the Asturian court and the Strategos was also surprised to see the Asturian rebuffed by a stranger who did not seem at all charmed by him. Perhaps, Folken thought, she saw that there was more to Allen Schezar than his genteel manners and dazzling smile. And she didn't like it. Neither did Dilandau.

Then, hard as the Strategos tried, he could not find any logical explanation for the events that transpired. Dilandau and Seraphina had danced the traditional Gaean dances and then declared that they were bored. After Folken instructed the Asturian technicians to plug in Seraphina's music device, things took an even more unexpected turn. The two had continued dancing using strange, unfamiliar forms with the utmost familiarity. The whole spectacle had dazzled and perplexed all the spectators.

And yet, for all the intimacy and familiarity the two obviously shared with one another, they continued to vehemently deny any connection with the other. Folken recalled Dilandau looking particularly displeased with the suggestion of a marriage with the girl. Such a reaction, however, was common and Folken had no doubt that the two would soon concede to his schemes. But everything changed when the girl had jumped off the balcony.

Folken remembered that moment with sharp clarity. For a few moments, the entire ballroom was still from the absolute shock. The Strategos supposed that it was during those seconds of uncertainty that Dilandau made his escape to his Alseides which had been positioned right below the balcony. After Princess Eries had sent some soldiers to investigate the area, no trace of either Seraphina or Dilandau had been found. Folken, however, had spied indentations in the ground which indicated the prior presence of a large guymelef. He had said nothing so as not to implicate Dilandau in the matter and instead made the excuse that Dilandau had gone out to rescue the girl. Folken had hoped that such a claim would placate the inquisitive court gossips who peered over the balcony greedily.

On the sly, the Strategos had sent out a search party who had yet to return. He only hoped that no harm came to the girl, even though she seemed to have been a conspirator in the entire plot. Both she and Dilandau had played out an elaborate masquerade which had deceived even the usually perceptive and vigilant Strategos of Zaibach as well as the fiercely objective second Princess of Asturia.

Folken sighed once more and clutched his head. The headache had just gotten worse.

"Lord Folken?"

The Strategos turned to face a foot soldier in grey armor.

"What is it?" Folken asked.

"There's an urgent transmission from Emperor Dornkirk," the soldier reported, "concerning the Dragon."

Folken's eyes narrowed suddenly. The Dragon must take precedence over everything else.

"I'll see to it immediately," the Strategos replied.

--

Illuminated by the glow of a blue torch, Dilandau Albatou sat alone in his chamber, holding a goblet half-filled with vino in one hand, and twirling a gold item on a chain in the other. He glanced lazily at Seraphina, no, Placida's golden pocket watch. For the nth time, he flipped it open and stared at the change in the mechanism. In place of the original timepiece was a crimson gemstone with the foreign Mystic Moon figures etched on it. The drag-energist.

He stared intently at the stone before closing the watch and twirling it again. Such an odd night, he thought, sipping from his goblet.

The girl disappeared as suddenly as she had come. And she left this useless thing behind. Unfortunately, it held the energist he had worked so hard to acquire so he couldn't well throw the watch away. But neither could he use the energist's power. He had tried rigging it to his Alseides but to no avail. The gem stone remained fixed in its gold frame. How annoying.

And she had left with his dagger. He frowned. It wasn't a particularly good weapon but Dilandau so hated having things taken without his permission. The cloak he could allow, he had given it freely. But he had merely lent the dagger to her so she could ward off the female dragon.

Speaking of dragons, he thought. Until now, he could still not figure out what had brought those two dragons out into the woods tonight. All his extensive knowledge and experience with the mighty creatures could not help him figure out this strange occurrence.

"No matter," he muttered, "I still managed to defeat those two beasts anyway." Besides, Destiny seemed to be particularly playful with him tonight. A weird Mystic Moon girl from his dreams appearing out of nowhere still surpassed the peculiarity of the dragons' presence. He flipped the watch open again and stared at the energist.

He felt sure that he would find a use for it eventually. After all, it was still a drag-energist of superior power. Perhaps his current Alseides wasn't quite fit to handle so much power yet. He closed the watch and twirled the chain around again.

"And I suppose you're feeling quite pleased with yourself right now?"

Without turning to look at his companion, his eyes still fixed on the watch, Dilandau replied sarcastically, "Not particularly, no. But it's kind of you to ask, Lord Folken."

The silhouette of the Strategos appeared by Dilandau's doorway. The young captain still had his back to his superior. Folken sighed at Dilandau's laid back demeanor.

"I won't waste my time in trying to impress upon you the gravity of your actions tonight," Folken began directly.

Dilandau smirked in satisfaction. This was far better than he had expected. But then again, one could never be sure. The silver-haired captain was wary.

Folken looked at the boy's haughty figure skeptically and continued, "I do so not because I have acquitted you of your crimes but because a more urgent matter has come up which I expect you to turn your full attention to."

Dilandau stopped twirling the watch and turned to face Folken, his crimson eyes boring into the Strategos. The latter returned his gaze with ease.

"I have received some reports from our scouts by the Fanelian border," Folken explained, "and there seems to have been some activity in the woods near the edge of Fanelia. A dragon slaying battle, by all accounts."

Dilandau narrowed his eyes but said nothing. Folken did not suspect what the young captain was thinking.

"Apparently, Van Slanzar de Fanel, heir to the throne of Fanelia," Folken continued, "has accomplished the kingship ritual by slaying a dragon of Fanelia and acquiring its energist." Folken paused, no doubt remembering his own failed kingship ritual. But he did not allow himself to dwell on the past.

The Fanelian kingship ritual, Dilandau thought, that explains why the dragons were on the prowl last night. Folken looked at the pensive young dragon slayer and the Strategos believed he knew what Dilandau was thinking. But of course, he could have no idea what exactly was going through the captain's mind. After all, he wasn't at the woods that night.

"So what would you have me do?" Dilandau asked, standing up, his eyes burning with anticipation, because he already knew the answer.

"It is finally time," Folken concluded dramatically, "for you to capture the Dragon."

--

Was it a dream? Or was it more like a vision? Hardly.

The hotel lights were flickering back on and loud groans of protest from all those on the dance floor were heard. Despite her abrupt arrival, Placida had the presence of mind to quickly remove Dilandau's cloak and fold it compactly so as not to attract any undue attention. She likewise kept the dagger within the folds of the cloak. She walked briskly back to her table and sat down, making sure to conceal the long rip in her gown and to look as nonchalant as ever.

All her precautions were unnecessary however, because most of her school mates were too busy being love sick to notice any change in her. Placida smiled, clutching the cloak tightly. At least, she had concrete evidence that the whole adventure had not been a dream. She leaned back in her chair. There was still a half-full glass of iced tea but she ignored it. Having tasted superior beverages, she felt disinclined to sip any more watered-down, non-alcoholic liquid. Her adrenaline was still high and she was taking a few moments to catch her breath.

Placida hardly noticed her companions return to their seats. They chatted excitedly about their dance partners and the projects they had to finish during the weekend. One of her classmates even had the guts to walk up to her to ask about the slope of a tangent line. Placida frowned but obliged her friend, but only half-explained the concept. The whole time her friend was asking her about the coordinates, Placida felt a desire to stab him with her new dagger. But she restrained herself.

She hardly listened as their Head Teacher walked up to the stage and dashed the hopes of all those who wanted the night to last longer.

"Rules are rules. We will give no more extensions, people," the teacher announced, "we've already gone beyond midnight. We've only rented the hotel until twelve but the management was kind enough to give us the extra time to finish and clean up. Now, you will all go back home (except of course for those who are staying over night in the hotel). I don't want any trouble now, am I understood?"

A collective moan of affirmation was heard. The head teacher rolled her eyes at the typical reaction.

"The Junior Prom is officially over," she concluded.

Despite the groans of protests and sighs of regret, the other juniors began exiting the ballroom. When most of her friends had gone ahead, Placida followed, serenely walking out of what she had thought to be the dullest function she had ever attended. She felt no regrets about doing so.

It's too bad my watch got left behind, Placida thought, but I have a pretty good feeling that I made the most of my time. Although she would have to come up with a very plausible excuse for losing it because her brother knew that she considered it a most precious possession and took prodigious care of it. He was quite sharp. But she knew that no amount of filial affection would make him believe the truth if she ever told him. So it would remain her little secret.

She held the cloak and dagger close to her and tried to discreetly cover the slash on her dress. She would have some serious explaining to do when she got home. But she didn't want to be bothered with such petty concerns just yet. There would be time for all that later. She was still savoring every moment spent on Gaea.

A grander ball. Dancing with a notorious captain. Jumping off a balcony. And partly slaying a dragon. It had been quite an evening. Absolutely nothing to the prom all her friends were currently raving about. Carefully, Placida partly pulled out the dagger from its hiding place in the folds of the black cloak.

To her surprise, something had changed in it. The hole on the handle which had been empty (and which she had belittled) was now filled with a gem stone. A rose-colored, shimmering jewel that put rubies to shame. The drag energist.

Placida smiled thoughtfully. This was some souvenir. She wondered if Dilandau had a similar gem stone engraved somewhere. Would he even remember the odd events of this night considering his exciting life as a soldier in a mythical world?

She shrugged. Whatever he may choose to do was his concern, but she would never forget him, not for any sentimental or romantic reasons. She felt certain that she still disagreed with some of his comments and attitudes. It was just that one did not often encounter an enigmatic being from another world, not to mention dance with one. Her only dance partner. That was a memory worth keeping, for sure.

She hummed a favorite tune as she made her way out. She would have to get used to humming songs again since her iPod had been left behind in an alternate universe. Unfortunately, she would have to come up with an excuse for losing that item as well. But she didn't care to dwell on it.

I know you, I've walked with you

Once upon a dream,

I know you, the gleam in your eyes,

Is so familiar a gleam,

Though I know it's true

That visions are seldom all they seem

But if I know you

I know what you'll do

You'll love me at once

The way you did

Once upon a dream.

Placida walked slowly to the driveway of the hotel. Her feet were killing her and she made a mental note to lather them with gobs of ointment as soon as she had the opportunity. She couldn't wait to toss her high heels somewhere far away.

The front lights of dozens of vehicles passing in front of the hotel flashed before her and she shielded her eyes. She made her way through the crowd of waiting juniors and raised her head to search for the familiar sight of her brother's dark blue car.

After half a dozen students had been picked up by their respective guardians, Placida spied hers. The car stopped right in front of her and a porter opened the passenger seat for her. She thanked him and entered the car. The vehicle left the compound of the hotel.

Making sure to tuck her cloak and dagger somewhere inconspicuous, Placida buckled up. Her companion said nothing. Finally, the girl broke the silence.

"You're late, chauffeur," she said, pouting, and folding her arms haughtily.

The young man driving smiled at her.

"My apologies, madam," he said in a mockingly formal voice. He winked at her.

She smirked at him. And they both broke into a fit of laughter.

--

It seems that I will have to set aside the events of tonight a lot sooner than expected, Dilandau thought as he considered the mission ahead of him. Capturing the dragon. This was what he was born to do, it had consumed his entire being for so many years. But for the first time, he had been distracted from this task. And yet, the diversion was short-lived.

He heard a knock on his door.

"Enter," Dilandau ordered. One of his Dragonslayers, Chesta, entered the room and gave a respectful salute. Dilandau acknowledged the gesture with a curt nod.

"What is it, Chesta?" the captain asked.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Lord Dilandau," the younger man began, "but Lord Folken instructed me to bring these to you right away." With this, Chesta laid some files and official Zaibach correspondence on Dilandau's table. The latter glanced at them lazily.

"And what am I to do with these?" Dilandau asked, uninterestedly. He wasn't in the mood to do any paper work. Chesta hesitated nervously before answering. His captain's expression was unreadable and it was always during these moments of uncertainty that Dilandau was the most fearsome.

"They are the details for the mission, sir," Chesta answered politely.

Dilandau said nothing and merely nodded in acknowledgment. Chesta looked at his captain curiously. Dilandau was never this pensive. And it was strange that the legendary leader of the Dragonslayers was not enthusiastic about the upcoming dragon hunt.

Dilandau caught the boy staring and gave him a look which made Chesta immediately stand up straight in fear.

"Well, what are you still doing here, Chesta?" Dilandau asked. Chesta gulped.

"Lord Folken also ordered me to inform you, sir," Chesta replied, "that he's expecting you at an official military strategy planning tomorrow." The young man gave the other particulars such as the venue, time, agenda, and other necessary but boring details.

Dilandau nodded, committing each particular to memory. The more he focused on the mission, the more elated he was becoming. A sinister smile was beginning to form on his pale face. Chesta was both scared and relieved to see the old, familiar Dilandau beginning to manifest himself.

"Will that be all, then?" Dilandau asked the soldier.

"Yes, sir!" Chesta answered eagerly.

"Very well, you're dismissed," Dilandau ordered. The younger soldier gave another salute and turned to exit the chamber. He paused as he was about to open the door.

"Well?" Dilandau asked impatiently, "what are you still doing here?"

Chesta gulped but gathered his courage.

"I would just like to ask, sir," he began hesitantly, "if there is anything you need? For the rest of the night?"

Dilandau looked at his subordinate curiously.

"Nothing," the captain said curtly, "I am perfectly all right."

Chesta nodded but continued to stand there uncertainly. Dilandau was now frowning at him.

"What the hell is it you really wanted to ask me, Chesta?" Dilandau roared. Chesta quivered with fear and gulped again.

"Umm, well, sir," he stuttered. Dilandau walked up to him and grabbed the poor boy by the collar.

"Well, out with it already!" the captain yelled.

"I was just going to ask you, sir," Chesta blurted out, "how you enjoyed the ball?"

There was a moment of awkward silence. Dilandau's eyes widened and he glared at Chesta with a look that made the weaker man squirm. Dilandau dropped Chesta violently and gave the latter a hard slap.

"Don't waste my time with stupid questions!" he yelled. Chesta hastily got up and made a quick apology.

The boy turned to leave the room as quickly as possible. But something made him turn around to look at his superior curiously.

"Although," Dilandau whispered in a low tone, more to himself than to his companion, "I must admit that, all things considered, it was…"

--

"Looks like you had quite a ball," Elias teased his sister. She stuck her tongue out him.

"Haha," she replied sarcastically. Her brother laughed at her.

"Well, I'm guessing," he commented, "that you weren't as bored as you thought you'd be."

She nodded in agreement, finding nothing else to say.

"I mean," he continued in a teasing tone, "look at the state of you. Your hair's a complete disaster, your feet are all red and callused, and you seem quite out of breath. He must have been some dance partner."

Placida could not suppress a small blush at her older brother's accusation. She glared at him.

"And what makes you think that I only danced with one guy, huh?" she replied defensively.

"Let's just say," he replied with a mischievous, "that my brotherly instincts are tingling."

"Yeah, whatever," she answered sarcastically. But she smiled at him. It was too bad that she couldn't tell him everything. At least, not yet.

She looked out the car window at the solitary moon illuminating the sky. She sighed deeply. Her brother threw a sideward glance at her and raised his eyebrows.

"You're awfully quiet for a girl coming from her prom," he said.

"Some things are better left unsaid," was all she answered.

"Ooh…. How mysterious," he teased, "surely you won't keep secrets from your favorite brother?"

"Yeah, right," she replied with a skeptical look, "you're my only brother."

He smirked. "Exactly."

There were hardly any cars on the road that night. So they looked like the only inhabitants of that part of the world. Elias sighed with mock impatience.

"Come on," he urged, "I drove all this way in the middle of the night. Could you at least tell me what the night was like for you?"

"Well, I suppose I do owe you a story," Placida replied with a smile, "but I'm a little too tired to tell the entire thing right now. Suffice to say that, all things considered, it was…"

--

"… not a total waste of an evening."

--

NOTE: At last, after almost two years, this story is finished. This is my first complete multi-chapter Escaflowne fan fiction story. Yay. And I finished it by my deadline too! I feel like I've reached the end of a very arduous, and yet enjoyable journey. But I will always look back on the experience very fondly.

As I have been saying, this started out as a rant-y one-shot and then evolved into a full-length novel. I'll admit that it isn't a perfect piece of work and I have been quite negligent with regards to editing some stuff but I am still prodigiously proud of it.

I apologize for all the OOCness present in this fic. I may have had too much fun abusing my favorite characters. But I hope you still liked them.

And now, a HUGE, BIG, LARGE, GINORMOUS (it's a word!) THANK YOU! to all those who have supported this fan fiction.

To rukz, g.o.f., BlackInque2002, rapidminton, EscaPhan225, Pyronekoassassin, CalaAkinaMorushiku, ArsinoetheVII, Acy, Laboni, and Cyn Vicente: Your lovely reviews have been very much appreciated and have helped inspire me to continue writing this story.

To Avian Intrepid, rukz, and starlight set me free: thanks for adding this story to your favorites. I hope that you didn't lose interest as the story progressed.

To AmethystWings, Cala Akina Morushiku, DJFireHawk, WingedWithFireyMana, and rukz: thanks for adding this to your alerts. You won't need to wait for an update any longer.

I hope that you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it and I will forever remain in your debt for your constant support and encouragement.

To all those who read this even after this chapter is posted, please do leave reviews. I will still greatly appreciate them.

Thank you all very much indeed.

And now, let me end with this:

"Math tells us three of the saddest love stories:

Tangent lines which had one chance to meet and then parted forever.

Parallel lines that go on in the same direction but are never meant to meet.

And asymptotes which can get closer and closer but will never be together…"

This was TANGENT.