Disclaimer: The Vision of Escaflowne is the property of Sunrise and Bandai Entertainment. I do not own the Vision of Escaflowne or its characters.

A/N: Hello again! Thanks for reviewing. I love you guys. Lol, some of you may be wondering what happened to Merle and no, I didn't forget about her. I just couldn't figure how she should come up in the chapter but I finally have it! I hope you like this chapter. I'm trying to update quickly since I've been so bad about it. If this was real life I'd be fired from writing ever again. Lol. I can't believe it's been a month since I last updated. Now I feel really bad. (Cries) Anyway! Thanks again and enjoy! And I do sincerely apologize for the late update!

Chapter 25

Sacrifice for Redemption

Gone.

All gone. No longer was the magnificent wall that protected his country. No longer were the buildings that housed his people. No longer was his kingdom. It all lay in turmoil, never to be seen again in all its glory. He had turned his back only for a few minutes but when he turned around it was all engulfed in the raging fire. How eagerly it consumed and crumbled the paper thin walls. How jealously it licked the fabric that clothed the body.

He traversed the burning, deserted streets in an exhausted, frozen state. He forced his eyes to drink in the destruction and forced his mind to forever capture it. As long as he lived, he would not allow himself to forget this tragedy. This was the kingdom his father proudly reigned. The kingdom his mother dearly loved. The kingdom that Merle—Merle! Where was she?

Where was she? And Hitomi! He had forgotten about them. He had been so busy defending Fanelia's front that they completely slipped his mind. His head snapped from side to side and his ears strained to catch a note of their voice. But neither did he hear. He guided Escaflowne toward the palace, running at a fast pace, his breath coming in and out in loud puffs. His heart pounded in his ear like the music of a doomed sailor. The palace was better off than most of the other buildings. Though it was lit afire, the walls remained in tact. He quickly jumped down from Escaflowne and flew past the bloody field of dead soldiers into the throne room. Another score of slain men lay about, their blood soaking into the dark blue carpet. He ran up the stairs, past several doors, and into his room.

Niether Hitomi nor Merle were there. He backed out of the room and ran down countless hallways and corridors. It was until he made it into the stable that he heard the sounds of life. Something was moving about in the hay. Van was surprised it hadn't caught on fire yet. He knelt down and lifted off piles of hay. Underneath lay a sweaty, tear stained Merle. Her mouth had been gagged and her arms and legs were tied together. She whimpered with relief and joy as soon as she saw him. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks as she tried to talk through the gag.

"Merle . . ." Van sympathized. He carried her out of the stuffy stable and placed her on the ground before proceeding with the removal of the ropes.

"Van!" she cried into his shoulder. "I was so scared, Van. Every thing's burning. Our home . . ."

Van smoothed down her hair and kissed her head. "I can't say every thing's fine now but for the moment we're safe. Who did this to you?"

"I didn't see . . . but I think . . . I think I saw a flash of red," she managed to say as her sobs began to recede. "It was so horrible. I could hear all that was happening but I couldn't do anything. I kept fearing I would be next to die!"

"I just hope everyone found their way safely to the upper grounds." Van ran his hands through his hair and sighed wearily. A flash of red . . . "I haven't seen Hitomi at all."

Merle shook her head. "I haven't either. Maybe she's with the others."

"I hope so," Van murmured. Red. Could it be? That bastard. Van balled his fists and clenched his jaw in anger. Was Dilandau behind this whole thing? Had he planned on destroying Fanelia until it no longer stood? "What were you doing before you were assaulted?"

"Doing? I was looking for Hitomi," she answered, a slightly quizzical look on her face.

This wasn't good. It was just as he feared. "I think Hitomi's in danger."

The instant the voice filtered through his ears and registered in his brain, Dilandau felt the blood leave his face and squeeze glutinously through his pounding heart. Not him. Not him. Dilandau felt instinct urge him to hide behind Folken but pride made him hold his ground and grit his teeth. He would not—would not let that man touch him. He would fight like a beast if he had to but he would not allow that man to touch him.

"Don't tell me you're feeling shy now? Come and greet me properly, Dilandau," coaxed Reinse with a malevolent gleam twinkling in his eyes.

Hatred filled his guts and made him want to jab a prong through that crazed bastard's heart. His lip lifted in disgust. "Why don't you cut the crap and say what you really want to say?"

"My, how cold you've become. If I did that, you wouldn't like it. Not at all. You'd only cower in your fury and mistake my words for something entirely different." Reinse's lips curled at the corners as he watched Dilandau's eyes burned with his true emotions.

Dilandau could hardly find enough control to contain himself. If he wanted things to turn out the way he had envisioned, he had to keep his feelings in tact. A sudden burst of anger would trigger an involuntary tremor to run down his arm, and thus weakening his grip on the sword. As a soldier, as a man fighting for his dignity, he would fight until death claimed either him or Reinse. He barely felt Folken's shimmering presence beside him and once the battle commenced he would not feel it at all. It was the only thing keeping him at bay.

Folken, I'm counting on you. Destroy it before he uses it. It was this black device that gave Reinse the upper hand over Dilandau. It had to be rendered useless. It must. Otherwise, Dilandau had a probability of less than ten percent of winning.

"Aren't you curious how I knew you were coming?" asked Reinse, slowly drawing his sword.

He didn't care. At this point, nothing reached him. "Not particularly."

"I'll tell you anyway. I was watching you the whole time, Dilandau. Didn't you feel it?" He snorted. "Of course you didn't. There was no way you could have known. I watched you through the Emperor's Destiny Prognosticator. I watched you come here and I waited for you."

Dilandau whipped his sword to the side. "Enough with your talk. I'm getting tired of watching your mouth flap around."

A vein appeared beside Reinse's left temple. Dilandau smirked. He didn't know how Folken was going to steal the black device away from Reinse but if he didn't get a move on it . . . The twitch of annoyance on Reinse's face was replaced by a crinkle of malice. He reached into his robe and pulled out a small black object.

Dilandau swore under his breath and tightened his grip on his sword, determined to remain calm. But what the hell was he supposed to do now? Folken was too late. Damn it, he was too late! He couldn't help but feel a little panicky. Beads of moisture began to perforate through his skin but he was determined to remain cool. "Are you so scared of me that you need to use that little piece of shit?"

Reinse's smile only widened, revealing a row of straight, white teeth. "No. Actually, it's to break your reserve. To make you so afraid of me that you can't even stand up right. So I don't have to even lift a finger. I wouldn't want to hurt my beautiful boy, now would I?"

Reinse lifted a long, steady finger and pressed it firmly on the top of the black device. It made a whirring sound, a sound that made Dilandau's ears ache, and quieted down after a few seconds. Strangely, Dilandau didn't feel anything right away. He braced himself for the wrenching pain in his chest but nothing came. However, he didn't let down his guard. He suspected the pain would come later. From the corner of his eyes, Dilandau saw Folken smile slightly.

It suddenly dawned on him. Dilandau immediately slashed right and made a deep cut in Reinse's arm. He would not be able to use a sword now. Reinse let out a howl of rage, which signaled in a squad of soldiers.

"Go have your little revenge. I'll take care of them," said Folken as he drew his own sword. Dilandau stared curiously at the Fanelian emblem on Folken's sword but didn't say anything.

He sheathed his own and immediately seized Reinse's throat with both hands before he had time to get very far. Slowly, he crushed it as if he was squeezing a giant sponge. His eyes flashed and he threw back his head, wild with laughter. He would take his time. He would kill this wretched man slowly and agonizingly.

"Pl—please, Dilandau. Have mer-mercy on m-me," choked Reinse. His fingers tried to pry Dilandau's hand away from his throat. Dilandau only tightened his grip.

Dilandau brought his face down so that they were only a few inches apart. "Have mercy? You're actually going to beg me? You stupid, ugly man. When have you ever showed me mercy? This is just the beginning, Reinse. Before you die, tell me how you feel."

With one hand nailing Reinse's throat to the wall, Dilandau pulled a dagger from his belt and pointed it at Reinse's eye. Reinse whined and whimpered. Dilandau laughed softly. "Should I carve out your eye first? No, I want you to see it all. Should I cut it off down there? No? How about your nails? Should I peel back the nails and throw them in the fire? Not that either? What a picky man you are. I know, I'll cut off your ears."

Reinse's eyes widened as Dilandau edged the blade against the lobe of his ear. He made strangled, crying sounds that eventually grew louder and more frantic and turned into agonized screams as Dilandau slowly brought blade up the up, carefully taking his time. Blood trickled down his hand. Dilandau could see the pale pink flesh through the streaming blood and just to make it more painful, he grabbed the lobe and began ripping it off. Reinse struggled desperately, gasped haltingly, nearly mad with pain. About halfway, Dilandau stopped, disgusted with the blood on his hand but more with the half crying, half screaming pathetic man in front of him.

"No more. No more . . ." begged Reinse, tears streaming shamelessly down his face. "I beg you."

Had he, Dilandau, ever in his life looked so pitiful as that piece of trash kneeling at his feet?

No. He had never allowed himself to cry in front of Reinse. Why was it that when the situation is reversed, the other instantly turns into a damn coward? Where was his cruel face now? Where was that unruly confidence now?

Dilandau's guts filled with a hatred beyond imagination. It was so great that he didn't think killing Reinse would be enough. He was sick of that man, so sick he could not bare the thought of laying his hands on him anymore. It was an uncontrollable loathing that made him want to watch that man die the lowliest death possible. He knew that no one could ever compare to the level of animosity he felt for Reinse. Finally, he ground his teeth with such a force his jaw cracked and with both hands, wrenched the remainder of Reinse's ear off and threw it into the burning torch. Reinse's shrill screams echoed loudly off the walls. Dilandau punched him in the face several times and then broke both of his arms as a last final attempt to vent his volcanic anger.

"Get out of my sight," Dilandau growled, quaking with fury. "Don't ever let me see your damn face again. I'll kill you."

Reinse wept through swollen eyes. "Thank you, Dilandau. You're a good boy," he gasped. He turned and ran for his life, hunched over with pain, ear bleeding freely, and arms dangling at odd angles.

"That's right. Run, you bastard," muttered Dilandau bitterly.

In the end, he never got what he wanted. He sat down on the carpet, feeling spent. That was the nicest thing he had ever done for someone he was about to kill. Why did he have to be nice now? And that was going to be the last time. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillar. He hated Reinse so much he would do anything to make him suffer. A moment later, all was quiet. He could no longer hear Folken's sword slashing about. Dilandau wondered if he actually killed any of them.

"You knew, didn't you. You know I wouldn't do it . . . wouldn't kill him," he said quietly, eyes still closed. It came out as an accusation.

Dilandau felt Folken's shadow fall over him. "Yes, I did."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I wanted you to find out on your own. Dilandau, we still have work to do."

He sighed and dragged himself up. "When did you switch them? The black devices?"

"That's something you don't need to know. Do you think he went to tell Dornkirk?"

Dilandau stiffened. "I'll kill that bastard."

"I was only wondering. We won't know until we get there. Now, shall we go?"

As they left the room, Dilandau saw the soldiers lying on the floor with broken limbs twisting this way and that. So Folken didn't kill them after all. They passed many doors and many corners to find their destination. What lay beyond those thick, steel doors was a mystery to Dilandau. He had never seen the inside of Dornkirk's chambers.

"This is it, Dilandau. This is where it all ends." Folken pushed open the doors.

For a moment, Dilandau was blinded by a blanket of white but as his eyes adjusted he was blown away by the vastness of the chamber. There were mechanical gears every where he looked. Where was Dornkirk? He could be anywhere. As he and Folken made their way deeper into the chamber, a large steam jetting engine revealed itself to them. And all the way at the top of its peak sat Dornkirk with wires protruding from his painfully thin body. Dilandau was amazed he was able to stand the way he was right now, looking down at them with his thin arms supporting him.

"You've come for me, I presume?" he said in a deep, loud voice.

How the hell did he have the strength to speak with such force? Dilandau kept his hand on his sword in case it was some sort of trap they were walking into.

"How do I know, you must be wondering. You know very well, Folken. You know very well what that machine of mine is capable of and yet you still plot something as predictable as this. I knew a day would come when you would betray me to your beliefs. I knew your sharp mind would develop its own perceptions. And I knew you would not agree with my tactics anymore," Dornkirk continued eerily. "It saddens me a great deal to see a pupil of mine fall out of line."

"I don't believe I've 'fallen' yet. I have merely reached a level of understanding that you have not and could not teach me," was Folken's passive reply.

"You've come too late," he announced softly. "I have the girl in my possession."

"That's a lie," Dilandau spoke before he could stop himself. "It's not so easy to defeat my Dragonslayers."

"There was no need for that, Dilandau," Dornkirk laughed gently. "They believed me when I said sent them a message in your handwriting saying that you wanted to bring her here."

"How do I know you're not lying? They're not stupid enough to fall for that."

"You're right. They're not. But I am smarter. That's the difference between them and me."

Dilandau wanted to climb up and give him a smacking that would break his fragile body. "So where is she?"

Dornkirk beckoned to someone and said, "Come out, Hitomi."

From the depths of an inner chamber came forth a solitary figure. Behind Hitomi, with his hand on her shoulder, was General Adelphos. He didn't appear to have any evil intentions. Rather, he was just another pawn in this game of tug-o-war. Hitomi flashed a quick, tight smile at Dilandau as if to say she had not been given a choice. Dornkirk must have blackmailed her into coming here. But how did she get here faster than he and Folken? There was no way unless . . .

Unless Dornkirk knew. He knew what they had planned on doing. Dilandau cast a look at Folken, who only shook his head. Perhaps, this meeting of theirs was all part of Dornkirk's secret little scheme. To confront them and flaunt his victory in front of them. He had gotten what he had wanted and there was nothing they could do about it.

"I need her, Folken," said Dornkirk. "She's the answer to our dreams. We have strove so long for it. It is within our grasp. Don't throw this chance away."

"It is my dream no longer. I do not want a people coerced under one kingdom. I want them to live free as nature had intended. We have been creators of evil, Dornkirk. We created weapons that destroy. Fanelia has already fallen prey to our 'dreams'. It has been annihilated by machines that man has helped to build and nurture."

"Get over here, Hitomi," demanded Dilandau, feeling the tension between the two men.

"No, no, Dilandau," grinned Adelphos. "She stays right here. The Emperor's orders."

"You don't know what you're doing!"

"It doesn't matter. I can't go against the Emperor."

Dilandau's hand flew to the hilt of his sword but managed to stay it. However, he kept it there just in case Adelphos suddenly decided Dilandau was worth slaying. Dilandau blinked in surprise. He had an unnatural capability to control himself now. He couldn't remember a time when this was ever possible, or even thinkable. He almost wanted to slap himself to see if he was dreaming. Was this 'change'? What exactly was change anyway?

While he was in his own little world, Folken had disappeared. Dilandau looked around for him but found no trace. Dornkirk was gone as well. Where the hell did they go? He turned back to Hitomi only to find her gone as well. Adelphos was no where to be seen either.

"What the . . ." Dilandau furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. What the heck was going on?

He paced the huge chamber with long, quick strides, turning at every corner. He paused for a moment when he came upon a strange looking machine. There were tubes with wires going in all directions. The liquid inside the tubes bubbled, moving lethargically up and down the length. A long flat metallic table cut into the semicircle of mechanical equipment. Without another thought, he sent the tubes crashing to the ground. He knew what these were. He knew what they did. His vision went red with fury. He despised the machine and everything it stood for.

He had seen them so many times that if he were to close his eyes, their afterimage would still enrage him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that if he didn't find the others now it would be too late. He felt that something horrible was going to happen and it would be his fault if he wasn't there to prevent it. And so he went—ran, like a deer fleeting in the presence of a human. His youthful nimbleness allowed him to twist his body this way and that to avoid crashing into odd ledges and objects.

Faster.

How big this room was he didn't know and didn't care. He had to find them now. He had wasted too much time destroying the machines. A quick, sharp sound reached his ears. He knew that sound too well. There was no mistaking it. It was the sound a blade made as it is being pulled from its sheath. Dilandau entered another chamber just in time to see Folken force out his great black wings. In his hand was held the Fanelian blessed sword. For a moment Dilandau couldn't move as he watched Folken soar up high, wings gracefully beating the air.

No! Dilandau was supposed to be the one who killed Dornkirk. He was supposed to do it for Folken. He climbed up the rumbling machine that supported the emperor's ancient body. This one was much larger than the one Dornkirk had been sitting on in the other room. How the hell did he get up there so fast? Shouldn't his body have snapped in half?

Folken was too fast. Too fast. Dilandau clenched his teeth and forced himself to climb faster. He was close enough now to hear what they were saying.

"Folken, my dear pupil, please don't do this. I am fated with fortune. You cannot win," said Dornkirk in a solemn, almost pleading voice.

Folken flew up higher. "I must try."

"Don't do this, Folken."

"You've left me no choice. Release Hitomi and I will back down."

"It isn't possible now. I am so close to achieving my—our dream. Please, Folken."

Folken's face was so sad that even Dilandau was affected by it. It struck him, struck his heart, his mind. He didn't realize how much he cared about Folken, who nurtured him and guided him. He was about to reach out and shout at Folken to put his sword away, but Folken had raised it already. Folken swiftly threw his sword like a spear. It cleanly found its mark, but something strange happened. It broke in half as if a hand snapped it. The broken sword turned so quickly that Folken didn't see it.

"No!" cried Dilandau, watching helplessly from his post.

"I am the victor, my dear Folken," Dornkirk said weakly.

"So am I," answered Folken just as faintly. His wings fluttered and then stopped flapping. And he fell.

Dilandau never saw anything as tragic as this in his whole life. Being experimented on didn't even compare, at least to him. It was like watching an angel fall from heaven into the blazing pits of hell. Folken hit the ground with a soft yet jarring plop. Dilandau jumped down and ran over.

Folken's eyes were closed, but there was a sad, serene smile on his lips. Dilandau ground his teeth, shaking with fury. He ran back up Dornkrik's machine, climbing faster now. He made it to the top and found the old man still breathing, yes breathing but barely.

"You bastard," growled Dilandau. He slammed Dornkirk against the back of the seat. Dornkirk groaned, wheezing. "I'll kill you."

His hand was trembling so much that he couldn't hold them steady. He slammed the heel of his palm into broken sword tip, driving it deeper into Dornkirk's chest. He felt his own blood oozing down the blade. He didn't care. He pushed harder. Dornkirk gave a final shudder and finally stopped breathing. Dilandau tossed his body aside. He was breathing so hard that he felt like he had asthma. Something wet fell on his hands. Was he crying?

He wiped his eyes. Yes, yes, he was. It felt great to cry but he was so ashamed. He fell back against the chair and wept and mourned the loss of someone so dear to him.