Disclaimer: I don't own the visions of Escaflowne. I mean no disrespect to its creators by writing this.


Chapter Ten - - What will become of us?


Merle hung her head, slipping without complaint between the soft sheets of her bed. Normally she wasn't one to sleep in that manner, preferring instead to pull free all of the covers and make herself comfortable in the midst, forming a sort of nest around herself, but tonight she was so tired that it barely mattered.

For some reason, she thought it would be more satisfying to be back in Fanelia - maybe that being behind the walls alone would be enough to change all of the strangeness in the world, but it wasn't, and while she knew that it was naive to have assumed that things would change, she was still disappointed.

As far as this day was concerned, there was nothing else that she could do. Allen was put up somewhere, given adequate quarters in a more distant part of the castle. Merle had been careful to keep him away from Millerna, all but smuggling him in. Aside from the two pilots who had escorted them and now kept watch over his chambers, no one else even knew that he was here, and that was the way she would prefer to keep it.

Without attracting attention, she'd commissioned a new guymelef to be constructed to slightly different specifications than those that were more commonly produced. No one questioned her about it, which was good. She wasn't sure what she would have said if they had. She hadn't even told Allen about it yet, but that would come soon enough, after he'd had time to come to terms with everything he'd discovered. It was important to her that he regain his self-confidence, that he return to the role of adamant champion that she remembered so clearly - even despised at first.

She tried not to remind herself that Allen had ultimately caused more problems than he'd solved. His tirade against Dryden and Asturia had made her very reluctant to leave him alone while she went to find Van. If he managed to get away from the guards, all hell would most definitely break loose.

In the end, she'd abandoned her mission and resigned herself to taking Allen back to Fanelia. To account for her failure to contact Van, she'd sent three more messages to Asturia, but she expected no more to come of them than those that she'd sent earlier.

Millerna didn't understand any of it, which truthfully surprised no one. The blond princess had come more than once to her quarters already to tell her that it made no sense to chase speculation, shadows she may or may not have seen in the pass, the ruins of an old fortress that might have nothing to do with anything. They were all ideas Merle really longed to believe, but for some reason she just couldn't. There was something wrong, and she still didn't know what. Her dreams were clearer than the realities of the days, spent now in the dark veins of the castle, trying to find some purpose in herself on top of the responsibilities that Van had apparently forgotten.

Van. Merle missed him. Thinking of him now brought a tear to her eye, but she batted it away and cursed herself for being stupid. Van, for all intents and purposes, was dead. He could be of no help to her or the people of Fanelia, and though she still had no proof of anything, she was convinced that they faced something dark, as black as anything that had come before.

Pulling back the covers, she scowled at the world. There was no point in her trying to sleep, because there was no chance of it happening. Why couldn't things go back to the way they were? Van should be here, by her side, leading his people like the king he was supposed to be. Everyone should come back, be the way that they used to. Everyone... Van, Allen, Millerna, Dryden, Eries... Hitomi...

In a sudden burst of rage, she struck savagely at the nearby curtains with her claws. The fabric tore to pieces. Why was life so unfair? She never wanted this responsibility. It wasn't hers; it felt wrong to wield decision like it belonged to her, when it was nothing but a borrowed disguise. She wasn't supposed to be in charge anymore than Allen, one of the greatest knights in Gaea, was supposed to be living like a vagrant.

Turning furiously from one side of the darkened room to another, the soft clink at her neck brought her attention, and she clapped her hand to it at once, meaning to put it down inside of her tunic so that it wouldn't bother her. The movement was captured in the window-pane, and she watched herself as her fingers touched the faintly green stone. Maybe it was the star-light that somehow augmented the room or just her imagination, but something seemed... different.

The earlier memories of the others had stirred something. Hitomi...? Why did that name come to her mind so fast, before anything else? Hitomi was gone, wasn't she? Merle twirled the stone, watching as her reflection did the same. All at once her mouth fell open in shock. She'd been such an idiot.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Van stood alone in the courtyard of the palace, not far from the front gate. Snow fell lightly, though there were bare patches in the sky that let in the pale light of the moon. He looked up at these without seeing them, wrapping his fingers around a large, elaborate scroll.

Merle had called for him again, mentioning that she'd even traveled most of the way to Asturia to speak with him before circumstances forced her to turn back. This was not the first summons he'd received, but it troubled him more than the others. Initially, they'd all held a certain degree of desperation, a plea for help that was pathetic without trying to be. This one contained none of that. It was an apathetic letter, summoning him in spite of the fact the Merle already knew he wouldn't respond to it. She'd given up on him.

The snow picked up, falling with much more determination than it had before, swirling around him thickly and obstructing his view of anything else. The gate of the castle disappeared in the gale. He pulled down the bandana he wore so that it would protect his eyes from the icy blasts that assaulted them.

There was nothing he could do anymore, and it was high time that he acknowledged it. Escaflowne was sequestered away in some Asturian hangar, forgotten to the rest of the world. He no longer thought himself worthy to wield it, so he'd let it stay there. Eries didn't encourage him to go far anyway, nor did Dryden or any of the others in the palace. They all coddled him, forgetting who he was. But then, that was a forgivable offense. After all, it wasn't as if he knew himself anymore anyway.

So much of him was missing, and it seemed that each day only served to remind him of that fact rather than help him come to terms with it. He had no desire to move on or accept that something dear to him was gone, as he once had.
He felt compelled to cry, as he stood there, but since it wasn't something he thought he could do, he settled for looking out into the snow again, wishing he could see the way out.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Serena sat in her little room blindly. Her layered black armor clattered as she shifted, making herself more comfortable on her wooden chair. The darkness, which she'd grown to accept, was judgmental and absolute. Though a single lamp fettered her gaze from the table at her bedside, it did nothing for the surroundings, or the perpetual gray feeling that tainted this place.

Lifting a beautifully wrought ivory comb from the table, she ran it experimentally through her long silver hair, wincing when it caught on various tangles. Allen always used to do this for her, and she still wasn't accustomed to ferreting out the small catches and knots on her own.

Allen. That was her only tie to reality, and it was quickly fading. The memory of his proud face and golden demeanor were reticent against this new world she'd found herself in. He was losing ground far too quickly, because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't be unhappy here.

It was lonely, of course, but she felt like she'd been deserted by her own emotions and now could only feel a select few. And, what made matters more complicated, was that there was no reason for her to dislike her new home. She was a captain in an already large and growing empire, responsible for more men than any woman had ever been before. She reported only to the empress, and not even the general had any sway over her.

Looking around, the curtains, tapestries, books, and other elaborate oddments around her sang with the same vain self-content, opulent and rude in their elegance. That was how the empire ought to be, rather than hiding in the shadows at the outskirts of Gaea, plotting like a spider when it could be roaring onto the field like the dragon that it was.

Scoffing at her reflection in the nearby window, she lifted her black velvet and silver cloak and girded her blade on at her belt. In a matter of days, Asgard would rise out of obscurity. Preparations were already being made for an attack on the nation of Freid that she herself would lead. It was a task she was anxious for, even though she'd been a part of the empire for less than seven days. The empress had her loyalty without even the thought of question. She would do her bidding to the end, uniting the world under the banners of Asgard, forever ending the enslaving cruelty of war for all people.

Allen would be a part of her again. Once Asturia was taken, she would fight beside her brother. They would not be beaten, Serena and Allen Schezar, the legendary champions of a new order. She could only barely curb her anxiety as she made her way to the metal portal of her chamber. There was no denying fate.


* * * * * * * * * * * *

The weight of the day wore heavily on Hitomi, as all days did anymore. She felt herself slipping in and out of consciousness on her throne, surrounded by curtains and veils, her crowns feeling like an impossible burden above her.

So this is the selflessness you pursued, is it?

The heaviness of the voice brought Hitomi's head up at once. She shifted her head from right to left quickly, searching for its source.

But you did not expect, could not understand, the many intricacies in what you were hoping to attempt. An old man stood at her side. He wore robes that may have been black or a very deep purple, tied off with a brilliantly red sash embroidered in gold. A single gold circlet encased a brow that was furrowed with age rather than by expression.

You aren't real, she told Dornkirk's shadow. You don't exist.

With a quiet chuckle that didn't reach his face, the emperor reached out a careworn hand, stopping it just shy of her face. She recoiled.

I am as real as you, my dear. Or perhaps it would be better for me to say that you are no more real than I. It seems that we were not as different as you liked to imagine.

We are different, Hitomi murmured quietly, horrified in spite of herself. You let yourself be destroyed when you let the power of Atlantis slip away. You were too scared to use it the way we both knew it had to be used.

And so it becomes ever more apparent that only one type of person can wield the power of fate. Whether he be meek or righteous in the beginning, meddling erases all such qualities in time. You spurned me for my wars, and yet you declare your own with even less justification.

I will end war, even if I must use war to do it. But unlike you, I use it with caution. I don't kill for the joy of it.

You commit a much more heinous act without realizing it. His reply was stern, but not unkind. You deprive the world of its right to be unhappy. What is it you're enforcing on these people but a bland facade that holds only a tincture of that which they may some day possess? Will you be their savior by trapping them? By holding them in thrall to you?

Hitomi drew herself up, glaring at the specter of Dornkirk.

There is no other way for peace.

Then, my dear, you must ask yourself... which is the greater evil?

He'd taken her by surprise.

If you hold a mind to you for a day, you must hold it to you for a lifetime. You've forced them to live lives that they did not choose. Did you think that you could ever set them free? People are not your puppets. If you let go of the strings, they will rise up and destroy you. He said it without cruelty, his eyes fixed on her face. She found that she couldn't return his inquiring glance.

My dear, he whispered, my dear child, did you not see? To free the world from hardship, you must carry it all on your own shoulders. You suffer more every day so that they will not, but how can you bring them joy if you don't remember what it is?

I've come too far for you to mean anything to me, old man, she told him tersely. It didn't matter what he said, even if all of it was true. She'd made her decision a long time ago and could not turn away.

There is always a choice. He turned away from her, drawing off to one side. Your time, my dear, will not come. I have warned you.


* * * * * * * * * * * *



The woman on the throne before her sat up at once, glancing around frantically before blinking down at her. Serena looked down at the floor, holding her bow.

Y... yes. Captain. I'm glad that you've come. The empress looked paler than she should.

All is prepared, Majesty.

Good. I trust you're ready to get underway?

Of course, Majesty.

With that Serena was dismissed, and she left without complaint. The empress was as composed as always, but there was something wrong. Under her veils and armoring layers of fabric, her body shook, her voice trembled. And for some reason, Serena felt fear brewing in her own own heart, as deep and as real as anything she'd ever felt before.




Ollen70: There should be a conclusion within a matter of chapters. This was done to sort of tie everything together. Sorry that there isn't much action, but I hope it helped make some things clear. Suggestions are always appreciated. Thanks to Macky for reviewing the last chapter.