Disclaimer: I do not own anything that belongs to Escaflowne, nor do I intend to infringe upon any copy right laws. My writing is strictly for the enjoyment of my readers and myself.
Everlasting Love: The Rebuilding of a Nation
By ~ Sincerity
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Chapter 22: The Season of Heartache
The passing of the seasons has come and gone over the world of Gaea twice since the celebration of Fanelia's rebirth has come to pass. Life has resumed and Fanelia becomes stronger with each passing year. During this time King Inash of Mandeza married a young princess from a nearby kingdom who bore him a son. The story repeated itself for five other allies of Fanelia. Happiness has filled those kingdoms for the security of a successor to the throne has been fulfilled. But in Fanelia that peace and security does not exist and the council has been pressuring the young King Van to find a wife and provide his beloved kingdom with a heir to the throne. Van is growing weary of the same battle and is coming to believe that he will have to obey their wishes soon.
But Van is not the only king struggling to uphold his stance against his own council. For in the kingdom of Egzardia King Sion argues with his advisors.
" Why must we always return to the same issue? I will never help Ziabach regain its footing in any shape or form. If its people wish to start their lives anew then let them come into my kingdom or others like mine and become a part of the kingdom they adopt. Ziabach is and should remain a distant memory…a nightmare of insane obsessions and lies. No." King Sion turns his back to the five advisors who sigh with frustration. " But Your Majesty," one advisor begins, " the madoushi have knowledge of things we know nothing about. Look how their kingdom still prospers even though they have no set government ruling over them." " Yes!" Chimes in another advisor, the youngest in the group who also has the tendency to say exactly what lies on his mind. Most often without thinking through how what he says might affect the king's reaction. " They have technology no one has ever seen. They know more about medicine, the growing of crops, and faster manners of travel than any other kingdom on Gaea! Why are you so stubborn?" King Sion turns slightly to regard his youngest advisor and then his entire council with various levels of contempt and curiosity. " How many in my kingdom feel the way each of you do concerning Ziabach?" The council of men glance at each other, wondering what answer it is the king wishes to hear. After a moment of silence the eldest advisor speaks. " Many people believe that Ziabach is no longer any danger to anyone. Their leader was killed and the ways of the sorcerers have been destroyed…to continue to hate the kingdom and all who live in it cannot possibly--" King Sion interrupts, shaking his head in dismay. " I fear I may be losing this battle but I will remain firm in what I believe. My answer is still no. I do not wish to speak to the madoushi and I forbid anyone in my service to go anywhere near anything that has to do with Ziabach. Am I clear?" King Sion raises his eyebrows in question. The advisors bow their heads in silent and reluctant agreement. " Yes, Your Majesty." They murmur in quiet reply.
King Sion exits the chamber with a deep and worried frown. His guards immediately flank to either side as he makes his way to the main hall. Could it be that Ziabach's intentions are righteous and true this time? But what if it's former king had a successor? There are just too many risks to ponder if Ziabach were allowed to form an alliance with Egzardia. Suddenly the voice of a young man fills the otherwise hollow echoes of footsteps upon marble. " Father!" Madric calls out as he rushes to catch up with his father. Sion's guards steps aside to allow the prince access to the king. Madric motions for his servants to stay at a distance as he converses with the king. Sion smiles at his son and lays an affectionate hand upon his shoulder, thankful to be distracted from his troublesome thoughts. " What have you been up to today, my son?" Madric wipes the sweat from his brow with his forearm and pats the sheath of his sword, which hangs from his hip belt. " Practicing my sword technique. What else would I be doing?" He smirks.
" Ever since King Van beat me I am even more determined to become the best." King Sion shakes his head and smiles. " Far be it for you to actually be content with what you have." Madric continues, oblivious to his father's words. " So what have you decided in regards to hearing the madoushi from Ziabach, father?" At the mention of the hated kingdom Sion pauses in his steps to regard his son with a pained and somewhat aggravated expression. " Madric…Ziabach is not to have any part in our kingdom. You know that." Madric lowers his head, biting his bottom lip with frustration. " But…father the war is over! They don't want to come and destroy kingdoms! They have so much to offer and-"
" Enough." Sion interrupts sternly, squeezing his son's shoulder to emphasize his point. " No more talk of Ziabach or I'll lose my appetite for lunch." Madric pulls away from Sion's grasp. "Madric?" Sion asks with a confused expression. " I have to wash up." Madric states, his voice cold and distant. " Madric…please son do not harbor bitterness in your heart. Ziabach is not a people one should mingle with." Sion explains as his son brushes past the guards. Madric turns around sharply to glare at his father. " Wasn't it Ziabach that rescued King Van's brother from the grasp of death?" " Madric…" But Sion is cut off as Madric turns his back to him and stalks away disappearing around a corner, his servants hurrying to follow their master. King Sion continues on his way, his face now showing the trials of weary years. The guards silently retake their positions and glance at their king with a mixture of confusion, admiration, and sympathy.
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In Fanelia the courtyard is busy with activity. Folken has taken a small company of eager, young men outdoors to begin their training for a life of service as soldiers, knights, and guards to their beloved kingdom. The weather is beautiful and everyone is in good spirits. Folken organizes the men into a single, straight line from tallest to shortest. All carry a bow with the quivers slung over their backs and hanging from their belts, safe in their sheathes, are newly crafted swords which were specifically created for their use alone. When he is satisfied with their formation Folken addresses the men of his new army.
" Now gentlemen," he begins, hands folded behind his back and his metal arm gleaming in the sun, " you are about to begin one of the most difficult challenges of your lives. This is not to say that it will be impossible. All of you will reach your limit at one point or another during your training. It is at that crucial point where each of you must give more than you believe is possible. All of you standing here today are giving your kingdom a precious gift. You are becoming its guardians. And in so doing you swear not only to protect a kingdom and its king, but all the innocents and loved ones you care for. It is a noble and honorable thing that each of you are doing today. So,…" Folken begins to walk up and down the line, making sure to have eye-contact with each man he passes by, even if for only a few seconds. " Do not concern yourselves with whether or not you are tall enough, strong enough, or experienced enough to be here. You are a Fanelian that loves his country and that is all that is required of you.
Every individual has something unique only to himself that he can give to his kingdom, and indeed to the world. Do not compare yourself to others and never, never give up. Be willing to realize that this life we now live is only a small grain of sand upon the shores of eternity." Folken pauses to stare at his group of future soldiers, knights, and messengers. Everyone is silent and reflectively solemn. " Let me never hear anyone belittle or discourage anyone else. Not even in jest." At this a few eyebrows are raised while others shuffle their weight from one foot to the other. " Everyone take a look at the men beside you. It could be that they may not be with us by the end of this year. We do not know what tomorrow will bring. Each of you must understand that in the heat of battle you will have to trust the fellow next to you. For now we become brothers in arms. We will give our lives to save each other and that which we believe to be honorable and right. So I reiterate, let none of us discourage one another for we are now one."
A few hours later finds the same company of men hard at work parrying each other with swords and then large staffs and finally small daggers. All the while Folken weaves throughout their midst coaching, correcting, and modeling. After several hours of these exercises the men move to a far end of the large royal gardens and prepare to begin their training with the bow and arrow. Folken teaches them all the basic knowledge required for them to begin. Once again he moves among them, teaching and directing their actions. He pauses when he comes upon one young man with golden hair that flows past his shoulders to rest against his chest, two slender braids frame his handsome face on either side of his head. The young man pays Folken no heed as he takes careful aim. Several yards away a large tree stands tall and high, its branches outstretched as if reaching for the sky. At the center of the tree's trunk hangs a small target circle made from five different strands of colored fabric, each strip creating a smaller circle around the red center. A gentle breeze rustles through the branches of the tree and for a moment the target sways to and fro. The young man pauses, waiting for the right moment to let loose his arrow. Folken quietly watches him steady his bow as the breeze dies away and finally, the arrow is released with a sharp twang of the bow. The arrow splits through the air and true to its mark hits dead center. Folken raises an eyebrow in compliment. The young man is good. When the man moves to pull out another arrow from his quiver Folken stays his hand. The young man looks up questioningly.
" How long have you worked with a bow and arrow?" " About six years captain." Folken nods with satisfaction. " You have a steady hand and confidence that backs your words. Tell me…what is your name?" " Devin Naum." comes the reply. Folken gazes upon Devin's face, his mind racing to remember why this young man seems so oddly familiar. Devin's brown eyes shine with sincerity and warmth as he waits in silence for Folken to speak. After a moment Folken's expression turns to that of one who has come to an important decision. " Would you mind helping me gauge and correct your fellow men during these hours of practice from now on?" At the invitation Devin's face glows with a handsome smile. Folken finds himself smiling back. The young man's enthusiasm and nobility is clearly evident to see. " Good." Folken replies with satisfaction and steps back.
He blinks in surprise as a sudden whoosh of air whistles by his face, too close for comfort. He frowns when his searching gaze spots a poorly aimed arrow whose haphazard path sent it whizzing into the shrubs only a few feet away. Folken and Devin turn to see where the stray arrow came from. Two young soldiers in training, one a man the other a wolf-man, are struggling with their bows several feet back. When they finally realize that they're being watched they look up and begin to yell a flurry of apologies. " You can begin with those two." Folken states to Devin, nodding in their direction.
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" I don't understand why I must make the decision in the next three days!" Van states with frustration.
" You must come to a decision soon or Fanelia might lose alliances with its fellow kingdoms. It is dedication to all aspects of kingly duties that other kingdoms find most important, especially in times of peace." Amos replies as he watches Van pace back and forth from the window to the fireplace. " The council has been patient for several years." He continues. " I'm surprised that they have held back for as long as they have." " But this is a personal decision-" " Van, nothing in the life of a king can remain personal for very long. It is the duty and curse of wielding kingly power I'm afraid." Van turns to the window once again, absent-mindedly twisting a silver ring around his pointer-finger. " I won't love whomever it is I choose tonight if it must be by force or duty." Amos nods, deep compassion reflecting in his eyes. " I am sorry, your majesty." Van bows his head for a moment before turning to face him. " Tell me Amos…has there been any word from King Sion as of yet?" Amos shakes his head. " I'm afraid not." " That's so strange. It was sent with plenty of time for response. Surely he would let me know either way, wouldn't he?" Van asks with deep unsettledness in his heart. Amos nods in agreement and sighs. " I know…it is strange that he hasn't returned any word. But it could be that we will know before long. It may have been delayed in reaching us." Van turns to a long, oak-wood table that sits alongside the opposite wall of the window. His hand idly brushes past several opened scrolls and letters that lie scattered upon the table's shiny surface. " I don't even know half of these princesses. There must be at least sixty letters here alone." Van states with a weary sigh. His eyes move to the mail pouch that was delivered only a few minutes before, filled with un-opened letters from even more young lady hopefuls. Amos comes to stand beside his king and rests a hand upon one firm shoulder. " Word of Fanelia's brave, and yet unwedded king has spread, I take it." Van releases a woeful moan. Amos chuckles. " Faith, my king." " Do you think she'll come?" Van asks quietly.
" Who my Lord?" Amos asks, inclining his head at angle in an effort to see his king's eyes, which are currently avoiding eye contact with his. " Liliana." Comes the soft reply. Amos squeezes Van's shoulder and smiles softly. " It's possible. Have faith."
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" But father you just don't understand!" Madric yells. King Sion, normally very slow to anger glares at his son. His face is red with fury as he rises to his feet. " I will no longer speak of this matter and I do NOT want you delving into anymore legends or myths from Ziabach! IS THAT CLEAR?!" Madric sneers at his father's words. " You are so BLIND! Can't you see that Ziabach is no longer a threat to us?!" " I want to know who has been feeding you all these stories about Ziabach. I want to know NOW!" Sion bellows as he grasps Madric's arm firmly, pulling him closer. Madric yanks his arm free. " How dare you treat me like a little child…I am now a man! I will NEVER tell you who has been teaching me about Ziabach because you want to prevent me from learning more." Sion begins to circle his son, anger and concern glistening in his eyes. " If I have told you once…I have told you a thousand times-" " Save your breath father I don't want to hear anymore of your wisdom-" " Ziabach is DANGEROUS! They are an evil, twisted, warped people who lie and stab their most faithful friends in the back!" For a long moment Madric says nothing, his eyes speak for themselves as he glares at his father with pure rage. " Fine." He finally murmurs. " Then this is how it must be." Madric replies coldly before storming out of his father's private quarters, slamming the heavy oak door behind him. King Sion stares at the door for several moments before shakily reaching for a chair and plopping onto its padded cushion with a weary sigh. I'm losing my son to an empire that has already died. What can I do to awaken him from this obsession?
Sion is disrupted from his troubled thoughts by a knock on his door. " Enter." He answers distractedly. " Forgive the intrusion, Your Majesty, but this letter has just arrived for you from Fanelia." Sion turns to see a servant standing at the door holding out an unopened letter. Rising with another sigh he takes the letter with a nod of thanks pausing to open it before returning to his seat. As his eyes scan its contents a small smile finds its way to his face and his eyes twinkle with deep emotion. " Ah my dear King Van." He murmurs. " What a blessing you are to me and my family."
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" This routine is not going to be easy…I already feel as if my arms might fall off." Edwin remarks as he hurries to keep in step with his oldest brother, Devin. " The effort is well worth the outcome, little Edwin." Devin replies with a warm, encouraging smile.
" Yes. I believe it will be. I just need to get use to the new exercises I suppose. But do you have to keep calling me little Edwin all the time?" Devin's smile grows even bigger. " Why not? It's what we always call you." Edwin makes a face and stops walking for a moment in order to pull upon the reins of his steed in an effort to keep it in pace with his quickening steps. " Yes, but I am not little anymore and that name only makes it harder for me to assert my position as a man." Edwin explains. Devin glances at his youngest brother from the corner of his eye and smiles again. " To me you will always be little Edwin so…get used to it." He replies, while having moved closer to give his frowning sibling an affectionate ruffling of the hair. " Aw, no! Devin! Stop! Not my hair!" Edwin complains as he bolts forward in an effort to avoid further brotherly affections and nearly gets yanked back on his rear when his horse refuses to quicken its pace yet again. Devin laughs and marches past, shaking his head as he goes. " Better get that horse of yours moving or you'll be left behind. General Folken won't want to wait all night!" " general folken won't want to wait all night." Edwin repeats with a frown and snorts. " Let him wait." He retorts, but his words are not heard as he and Devin enter the forest's edge and instantly find themselves amidst their fellow brothers-in-arms.
For about an hour the entire army moves further into the forest in silence, the only sounds being of their booted feet crunching on soft grass and the occasional snort from a horse. The group finally comes to a stop in a clearing where Folken moves to stand upon a tall boulder and raises his hand to gain their attention. " Now soldiers, we begin your training tonight on sneak attacks and scouting. All of you will be divided into groups of eight. I will come to each group and give specific instructions as to what you are to do." Devin moves to stand beside Folken as he continues. " Devin will divide the groups and I expect complete and unquestioned corporation with his decisions."
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Two hours later finds the soldiers heading back home, tired, exhausted, and very sore.
" Just think…only three more months of heavy training like this and we'll be looking back on tonight with a great…big…smile!" Edwin exclaims with sarcasm as he and Devin march back home through the tall, thick grass. Devin doesn't answer but stops in his tracks to stare meaningfully at his youngest brother. Feeling his gaze upon him, Edwin stops and feigns fearfulness. *Gasp* " What? What did I say?" Devin shakes his head and rolls his eyes before receiving a gentle bump from behind. He turns and gives his horse a gentle pat on the snout before continuing on his way. " I think its past your bed-time little Edwin." Devin finally replies. " I told you to stop calling me-" " Hear now…I thought we'd never catch up…with the both of you!" An unfamiliar voice interrupts the siblings in their banter and they stop again to regard their new acquaintance.
They are met not by one new face, but two. One of which belongs to a wolf-man. " Hello!" Begins the man who spoke to them. " I'm Ethan and this is my friend, Mizook." " Hello." Devin greets while Edwin stares at them with disinterest. " I just wanted to say that we really thought you did a great job tonight leading our group." Devin smiles. " Thank you. But you do realize that our success was a group effort. Both of you did just as well as I." " But we can't use a bow-and-arrow like you." Mizook replies, pointing to the quiver still hanging on Devin's back. " To each his own talents." Comes Devin's reply. " That's for sure." Edwin chimes in. " I think we should keep moving. I don't know about you guys but my body is aching enough to keep me in bed for a week!" " I hear that!" Ethan exclaims. Devin takes this moment to introduce his youngest sibling. " Uhm…this is my youngest brother…" Edwin shoots Devin a pleading stare. " Edwin." Devin finishes, sending his brother a charming smile. " Aw, well! Nice to meet you!" Ethan replies as he and Mizook prepare to climb onto their steeds.
" So…any more siblings in the army?" Ethan continues as the small group urge their horses onward. " Actually I have one more brother, Kyle, who is in the army as well." " Where is he?" Mizook asks. " Sick at home with a fever." Supplies Edwin. " " That's terrible!" Ethan exclaims. " He'll be alright. It's nothing serious. The fever is under control and he simply needs time to recover his strength." Devin explains before any other word could be spoken. " Oh…well that's good. I'd like to meet him some time." " Well, we have three more glorious months to go! I'm sure you'll get your chance." Edwin replies with a touch of sourness in his voice. " Don't remind me." Ethan states as he runs a hand through his thick, chestnut hair and smacks a mosquito on the back of his neck, right where his hair ends in soft, little curls. " So…why are you guys in the army in the first place? Got bored of routine, village life?"
" Our father was killed in the siege from Ziabach." Edwin replies bitterly. " We were helpless to prevent it." Devin continues. " This is our opportunity to prevent other families from experiencing the pain we have gone through." " Are still going thorough." Edwin corrects. " I see." Ethan replies. " I'm sorry for your loss. Lots of us have lost loved ones because of that day." He continues. Beside him Mizook nods his head mutely. " Well my friends," Devin begins as a cool breeze teases the braids in his long, golden hair. " Let's make certain no one else has to feel the way we do." " That's right!" Edwin chimes in with a smirk. " So did you guys do anything worth remembering in the army yet?" He asks to Ethan and Mizook. " We nearly took off Folken's nose with an arrow." Mizook replies. " I would have paid money to see his reaction!" Edwin laughs. " It wasn't too interesting actually." Devin replies. " How would you know?" Edwin asks with confusion. " I was with him when it happened." Devin explains. " Oh."
" I thought you might have been the man standing with him!" Ethan replies. " See Mizook, I told you he was." " Why is that so significant to you?" Devin asks with confusion. " Tell General Folken that we're sorry, will you?" Devin nods. " Yeah…it was an accident." Mizook chimes in. " I just couldn't figure out how to put the arrow…I-I mean how to fit an arrow to the bow." " What? You mean you didn't know how to-" " Edwin…" Devin quickly puts his younger brother in his place. " Don't worry about it. General Folken was not harmed and takes no personal insult to the event. Everyone is learning at this point." Thoroughly bored and exhausted Edwin changes the subject. " Now…can we go home a little-bit quicker? I need to take a bath." Devin nods in agreement. " Yes…you do!" Edwin looks back over his shoulder with a frown. " Hey!" Ethan laughs and raises his hand in farewell. " See you two tomorrow!" " Tomorrow then!" Devin replies as he suddenly takes off across the meadow, Edwin and his horse in hot pursuit. " They seem like nice brothers." Mizook remarks as he and Ethan head home.
" Yeah. I think we will be seeing them quite often." Comes Ethan's quiet reply.
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Dark shadows play across cold, stone walled halls as two men quietly make their way through a long, silent corridor. One man holds a burning torch, its light piercing through the darkness as they cross a large patio. It takes them into yet another hall and up a long flight of stairs until they finally pause at the doors leading to the prince's private quarters. The torch bearer knocks. At the sound of admittance he steps aside to allow the second man in. The eyes take a moment to adjust to the new level of light in the room before they are able to make out the form of a man sitting at a desk with a sword that lays glistening under the candle light. " Your Majesty,…you summoned me." Madric motions for his most trusted councilor to come closer. An empty chair sits beside him. " Bavlem…I am in need of your services. Come…sit." At the invitation Bavlem steps forward, shrugging his cape over both shoulders before taking the seat indicated. For several moments he simply studies the young prince and ascertains, by the young man's body language that he is sulking and extremely agitated. " Tell me what happened."
Madric stares at his sword, which lies on the desk before him. " My father still refuses." He whispers quietly and lightly caresses the emblem of his family's royal symbol upon the hilt of his sword. " Your Highness?" Bavlem leans in closer. Madric raises his tear-filled eyes, allowing Bavlem to see since the first moment he entered, how deeply he hurts. Bavlem stares back at him in silence. Madric reaches out and grips the older man's hand urgently. " Help me." He pleads.
King Sion seals his letter with the royal ring and hands it to the courier. " Be certain that the king of Fanelia receives this letter before the end of the week." The young man nods obediently and hurries to do the king's bidding. Outside the door he nearly runs into Bavlem. " Excuse me, councilor Bavlem! I did not see you approaching." Bavlem nods with a deep frown. " Is the king alone?" The courier cocks his head in momentary confusion. " Alone?…well, yes. Why do you ask?" " I must speak to him about a pressing issue and did not want our conversation interrupted." " He was just about to prepare for bed." The courier continues. " That's fine. I won't be taking too much of his time. And what is it you are carrying?" Looking down at the letter the courier shrugs. " I wouldn't know that councilor. He simply wants me to deliver the letter to Fanelia." " Let me take care of it." The courier shakes his head with a smile. " I cannot. I was told it must be on its way tonight. Looks like I had better put a move on it if its to reach Fanelia at all before this week's end! Good night to you councilor." Bavlem watches the courier hurry down the hall. Turning back to the door he raises his hand and knocks upon its solid face with urgency.
After a few moments King Sion opens the door, surprise clearly evident upon his face. " Bavlem? What are you doing here?" " I must speak with you, Your Majesty. May I come in?" Sion nods and steps aside. Bavlem stares at the two guards standing at attention on either side of the room. He turns to Sion. " I was hoping to speak to you in private." He whispers, his eyes giving poignant glances at the guards. Sion understands his meaning and nods. " May we have a few moments of privacy?" He asks. The guards bow their heads and obediently retake their posts outside the door while Bavlem walks over to the only window in the room. " Forgive me for disturbing you at such a late hour of the night, Your Majesty." " Please, Bavlem, tell me what brings you to me with such urgency." Sion asks with deep concern. Bavlem turns slightly to regard the king with a keen gaze. Sion steps closer and lays a hand on his shoulder. " Tell me…this urgent matter, whatever it might be. Does it have to do with Madric and his fascination with Ziabach?" Bavlem turns back to the window. He is quiet for such a long time that Sion begins to think the man has quite forgotten he is still standing behind him, waiting for an answer. Sion is about to speak again when Bavlem finally replies. His voice is solemn and King Sion frowns, his heart weighing down with great uneasiness as it does anytime he thinks of Ziabach.
" Yes…" Bavlem begins, turning around to face the king.
" I'm afraid it does."
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Three days later…
Morning birds are chirping happily as Fanelia bustles with excitement. Everyone is preparing for three nights of grand balls and the decision upon a queen by the king. The villages and all their streets are teeming with activity and among all the bustle, in the highest tower a young cat-girl turns away from the window. Merle sighs and frowns at the nine letter word that she still can't pronounce, even after five tries. " I just can't do it, Folken! Why does this book have to be so hard?" Folken, who is finishing up yet another experiment pauses to regard the young cat girl with sympathy.
" Don't get so discouraged too quickly. You have never read this word before. Remember…sound out the vowels separately first. Then begin fitting the pieces together, slowly. Now…" Folken takes an empty goblet from a shelf behind him, fills it with freshly squeezed grape juice, and hands it to Merle. " Try again." He commands softly and gently brushes away a tear that was trailing down her cheek. Merle takes a few sips of juice before obeying. Folken moves over to a small table directly across from where Merle is sitting. " Whi….whis…er…spered…whis…pered…" Folken smiles to himself as Merle suddenly gasps with comprehension. " I got it! Whispered!!" She shouts with a huge grin. Folken nods in agreement. " Excellent Merle. Now…take a break from your studying and come over here. I want your opinion on something." Merle gladly leaves the reading table, but takes her goblet of grape juice with her. She moves to stand beside him and eyes the strange model resting on the small table. " What is this?" She asks, leaning down to take a quick sniff with her little pink nose. " It is a model or miniature, if you will, of the agricultural fields." Folken explains as Merle twitches her whiskers, trying to rid herself of an itch without actually scratching it. " And the purpose of this miniature is to…?" She asks with confusion. Folken picks up a pitcher of water that was resting on one corner of the table. " I am trying to find a solution to the lack of water dispensation in our current irrigation system. I am hoping to see a new system implemented before the hottest months of the summer arrive." He explains. Merle watches as he carefully pours the water from the pitcher into a small funnel that spills the water into rivulets, spider-webbing across the tiny fields. " Neat!" Merle exclaims, her tail swishing contentedly.
" Do you think it works well?" Folken asks, having set the pitcher down and eying his work skeptically. " If you dig enough river beds it should. Right?" Merle answers, hoping that she's being helpful. Folken smiles at her kindly. " Thank you Merle. That's exactly what I was hoping to hear." Merle grins with satisfaction and purrs as Folken gently scratches behind one of her ears before moving to return the pitcher on the shelf. Merle picks up her book and glances out the window. " They sure are busy out there, aren't they?" Folken turns to look at her. " You better get going. I hear that every lady must attend the balls, starting tonight." Merle turns to him with a frown. " But I'm just a cat-girl." She replies, handing him back the now empty goblet. " Merle…you are Van's closest and dearest friend. It would break his heart if you did not attend. Besides, someone must keep him out of trouble when all those young ladies arrive." Merle smiles and nods in understanding. " Alright I'll go. You convinced me." Merle turns to leave and pauses, suddenly turning back and rushing up to Folken. He smiles as she gives him a warm hug before heading her way. " See you tonight!" She yells over her shoulder before exiting his quarters.
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Van smiles charmingly at the young lady he holds in his arms while they dance a waltz around the large royal ballroom floor. The music ends and he bows courteously before turning around to find yet another young maiden smiling up at him expectantly. Fighting an urge to moan Van bows to her and takes her by one hand. He leads her to the center of the ballroom floor and asks her to tell him her name. " Delilah, your majesty." She replies with a strange twinkle in her eyes. Van fights the urge to cringe and takes her in his arms, and with practiced ease falls into step with the music. As the sea of enraptured young ladies watch the handsome king dance across the floor, Folken and Amos make their way through the crowds and wait for the music to end. " He really does a good job of hiding his frustration." Amos states to Folken. Van glances in their direction. " I believe he is trying to deal with this situation as well as he can." Folken replies as he lifts a white envelope in a discrete manner so that Van might see. " Well I definitely hope that letter holds some good news for our king. He's had a difficult year." Folken remains silent as he watches his younger brother with sympathy. Amos takes a glance around the ballroom. " So many beautiful young women and he cannot find even one of them desirable." Folken sighs in agreement.
As the music ends Van makes his bow and immediately bee-lines for Folken and Amos who quickly take him through the crowds into a private chamber behind the royal thrones. Meanwhile the guests are offered fruit cocktails and fancy Fanelian delicacies while they mingle. Van sighs as the three enter the private chamber and close the door. " Only the first night out of three and I already feel as if I can take no more." Van states with a deepening scowl. Folken ignores Van's complaint and hands him the letter he has been carrying for an hour now. " This arrived for you earlier in the evening. But I thought it would be wise to wait until you had befriended at least a few of the young ladies." Van takes the letter. " How thoughtful of you." He murmurs sarcastically as he begins to open the envelope in his eager hands. " I had hoped King Sion and Princess Liliana would have been here tonight." He continues while unfolding the letter. Amos and Folken remain silent, waiting to see what news might have come. Van quickly scans the letter and looks up at their waiting faces with a bright smile. " Good news, I take it." Amos grins. Van nods and hands the letter to Amos. " The best news I've received in a long time." He confirms. " They will be here but on the third night." Amos quietly reads the letter while Folken silently studies Van's countenance. " What are you thinking?" Van asks when he sees his older brother's pensiveness. " You're going to wait for her?" Folken finally asks, although Van senses that the question is really more of a statement. He pauses from answering for a moment. Amos looks up at his king to see what will be the reply. Van turns from the both of them and fiddles with a gold ring he wears on his pinky. " I feel as if Liliana and I are family…I mean,…I am very comfortable with her. She is never more than herself which I find very refreshing when compared to all the "ladies" beyond the door to this room." He turns back to face his closest friends and mentors. " But this letter has brought me to the decision," Van continues, " that I will not choose to marry anyone-" " But Your Majesty-" Amos begins to interrupt. Further protest from his lips is silenced by Van as he raises a hand for silence and continues.
" please let me finish. I will not marry anyone but princess Liliana." At this revelation Amos and Folken exchange surprised looks. Van and Liliana…king and queen. The thought brings a smile to the older men as Van waits for their reply. " Am I wrong in choosing her?" He finally asks quietly. Folken shakes his head. " No, Van. I believe that she would make a fine queen. And as you stated, the two of you are very close and quite comfortable together. As a couple should be." Amos nods in agreement but says nothing.
" Then I feel I had better get back outside and enjoy my last two nights of bachelor-hood."
And without another word, young King Van exit's the chamber. " I suppose I should inform the council members of our king's decision." Amos states after a moment of careful pondering. Folken nods and remains in the chamber, deep in thought even after Amos has left. " King Van and Queen Liliana…" He murmurs to himself his face solemn, his eyes shining with deep thought.
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But no sign of King Sion or Liliana are seen for the next two days. The Fanelian council members become angry and increasingly more impatient with their king. Van begins to believe that perhaps King Sion will not appear with his daughter after all. But then why lie? Everyone's theories and worries are put to rest on the third night. A messenger finally arrives bearing a letter from Egzardia.
" Van you really should go back into the ballroom and dance." Amos advises.
" All those young ladies have come to spend time with you." Van nods and releases a frustrated sigh. " I just don't understand! Why have they not arrived yet?" Any other thought is interrupted by a knock upon the door and both Amos and Van call admittance at the same time. " I don't want to step foot in that ballroom until I know for sure, one way or another. Wouldn't it be worse to go dancing with those girls, playing with their hearts when I have no true intention to marry any of them?' Van asks Amos while Folken arrives with a younger man at his side. Van turns to him curiously. " yes?" " Your Majesty, this just arrived from Egzardia." The courier states as he hands the letter to the king with a bow. " Thank you." Van replies thoughtfully as he begins to open the envelope. " Maybe now we will know what is holding them up?" He states as Folken quietly leads the young courier out the door and Amos waits for Van to tell them what the letter says. Van reads only for a few moments before turning very pale. " Van?…what is wrong?" Folken asks with confusion. Van looks up at his friends and everyone tenses, for whatever he just read was not good news. Van tries to speak, but cannot find his voice. Reading further Van reaches the end. Finally, he takes a deep breath, summons all his strength, and focuses on forming his emotions into words. " He…he's dead." Van states in soft disbelief. But his voice is not heard, his words too soft to hear clearly. " What?" Amos asks with deep concern as he and Folken watch Van's face melt into an expression of complete and utter grief. " Van what has happened?" Folken asks with growing alarm. With shaking hands Van gives the letter to Amos so that he might read it aloud. Amos begins while Folken moves to look over his shoulder. Van turns to look out the window, tears burning his eyes. The room is still and silent as Amos finishes reading and Folken looks up to regard his younger brother and king with deep sympathy.
For several moments no one speaks, the loss of such a true and faithful friend almost too painful to bare. But finally, Van turns around to face them once again. " No wonder they didn't answer us." He begins. " Here we are talking about balls and marriage while Gaea loses her greatest king." Van's words are filled with grief and bitterness. Amos steps up to him and lays a hand on his shoulder. " Van…what is it you wish to do?" Van lowers his head as the tears begin to fall down his flushed cheeks in silent, glimmering trickles. Van's show of emotion pulls upon Folken's heart and he has to look away, his own eyes now shining with unshed tears.
Van's mind whirls with memories of the good king and along with them…the face of a kind and gentle princess who is now alone and grieving the loss of her only remaining parental guardian. No longer would she feel the warm and safe embrace of her father's arms. A new and sharp pain strikes Van's heart and he instantly raises his head to look directly into Amos's steady and sympathetic gaze. " I must go to Egzardia immediately. They will need my support at this time." Then, in a softer voice Van continues, " King Sion would not have wanted them to mourn alone." Amos nods in silent agreement, squeezing Van's shoulder as Folken moves to set his hand upon the shoulder that remains.
At his touch Van looks up at him and without thinking twice moves to embrace his brother. Amos steps back and nods in understanding when his gaze meets Folken's in a brief exchange of surprise and open grief. " I will go disperse the crowds downstairs." Amos replies softly, waiting for Van's approval. Van nods in mute silence and presses his cheek against Folken's chest. Amos quietly leaves the two siblings alone so that they might have a few moments to gather themselves. Once outside the room Amos finds himself facing one of the council members. " Why Amos! I was just about to summon you…What has happened? You look as pale as death!" Amos opens his mouth to speak and suddenly has to swallow hard in order to force his tears back down where no one can see them. Taking a deep, steadying breath he tries again. " My friend…Fanelia is now in a time of mourning. King Sion of Egzardia…is dead."
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Coming up next: Van finds himself thrust into life-changing decisions. The world he lives in is changing and so are the desires of his heart. He is growing and as he finds himself, a new enemy is born.
In the near future: Van's life will change, as well as those around him. It seems that fate does not like life to remain a fairy-tale. Heart-break, fear, betrayal, murder, hope, and an astounding miracle all lie in silent waiting for the day when they will enter the young king's life. The enemy has grown in strength and numbers and it will soon be too powerful to stop. Hitomi returns and Folken will soon learn where his loyalty truly stands.
