Chap.8



Kent stood dismally beside his fellow commanders, trying his best not to fidget. They were all being fitted into uniforms for the upcoming wedding. Wedding. How he hated that dreaded word. It was almost 9 years since that strange boy had entered into his life. The boy, now a man, was his best friend, Kent had to admit. But still, it didn't give him the right to steal his Lourdes. But she isn't yours, a logical voice told him. He told the voice to shut up.

"Please stop squirming Commander Kenton." The tailor said irritably, a tape measure in his mouth, trying to measure Kent's arm length. Over to his left, Kent could hear a snigger. Rolling his eyes, he turned and glared at Dilandau. He had to suppress the urge to go over there and teach him his place. If only Folken, in all his genius, could invent a machine to shut up Dilandau! He thought vehemently.

Dilandau, also had grown into a young man. Small boned, and petite, his good-looks had grown with him. Now, he always had a cluster of female as well as male, followers gathered around him. And always, always he was causing trouble. Kent couldn't help the chill that went up his spine every time he saw the boy. It was like looking at pure evil. The Emperor always said it was an asset that Dilandau had a quick mind. But then, Dornkirk had always taken a fancy to the boy, even as a child. Not much different from Folken's story, he thought wryly.

"Okay, you're done." The tailor nodded to him, moving on to the next person. With a sigh of relief, Kent left the room as quickly as possible. As he was heading out the door, he ran into Folken.

His friend looked worried, and slightly flushed, as if he had just been running a marathon. As he passed, Kent put a hand on his shoulder. Folken looked up, his eyes dark. Kent smiled at him. A look of relief crossed Folken's face. He smiled too, then continued into the room.

Kent knew that Folken had been feeling very guilty about his marriage to Lourdes, because he knew that Kent had loved Lourdes since childhood. At first, Kent had been angry, very angry, at Folken, for even thinking of marrying Lourdes, but now, now, Kent was starting to understand. He was starting to realize much pressure was being put on Folken.

He's been putting it off for almost 10 years, Kent thought somewhat guiltily back to the time, so many years ago, when the idea of marriage had first popped up. He's been putting it off for me, the least I can do is let him go on with his life, Kent thought miserably. Yeah, but I don't have to feel happy about it, his inner voice nagged. The only thing Kent wanted to know was, of course, what did Lourdes think of all this. But he never spoke to her anymore, as looks were more painful than words and it made something inside him twinge, as if struck



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Dornkirk couldn't help smiling at the young man in front of him. Dilandau Albatou had all the characteristics Dornkirk himself had once possessed. He was, perhaps, a little hotheaded and more than a little impulsive, but weren't those the things that made a good commander? Wasn't that what he was like when he was younger?

"My Emperor, to what can I owe this meeting?" Dilandau bowed, his eyes glinting. Dornkirk smiled smally.

"Dilandau, the wedding is to take place soon, and all things are in place. Folken has completed his Stealth Cloaks, and we shall be able to continue on with the next part of our plan."

The plan. It was everything to him. Dornkirk reflected back to when he had been merely king of Zaibach. This...this plan was going to be the completion of his dream. He had waited 200 years to die, and when his plan was completed, he would die. And leave it all to.....who? Folken? Yes....Yes...Folken. Dornkirk regarded the bowed form of Dilandau in front of him. Or Dilandau? Folken or Dilandau? Only one thing clouded his plan, and that was a vision of a dragon. A dragon that destroyed it all. Dornkirk was set on fixing the problem before it started.

"Ah Yes, your Majesty. I look forward to it." Dilandau looked up and grinned, almost evilly. "Please, let command one of the floating fortresses! Please!" He pleaded. Dornkirk nodded curtly.

"Of course."

Dilandau grinned.

"Shall I set off? While Strategos is involved with his wedding?"

Dornkirk nodded. Yes, it was best that Folken not yet know his plans, although what he could actually do about it was little. Dornkirk had made sure of that. Soon, Dornkirk promised. Soon.

"Yes, Dilandau, I place my trust in you. Take your troops and go to Fanelia. Bring me back the dragon that I see in my visions."

Dilandau nodded eagerly,

"I shall not fail you, my Emperor!" He rushed out of the room.

Dornkirk watched him. He was certainly energetic, and enigmatic, and impulsive, and sadistic.....A lot of qualities that were good in a ruler. Yet...Folken..Folken was intelligent, quiet, calm, reflective, and laid-back. He always thought things through, and as of yet, he had never failed his emperor, inventing tool after tool, miracle after miracle. Yes, Dornkirk nodded. Yes, Folken was what a ruler should be. A ruler for all of Gaia.



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Folken nervously glanced at himself in the mirror. He was tired and in no mood to put up with Kent. He had explained time after time to Kent, that he couldn't do anything about the wedding. That if he could, he would. Only last month, Kent had seemed to forgive him, and now, again, he was cold, distant and silent yet again. Folken was getting tired of the mood cycles that seemed to hold Kent in thrall. Be mad at me, or not mad, Folken thought irritably, just make up your mind.

It didn't help that he had been getting almost no sleep. And to add to that, his dreams had been occurring yet again. Dreams of his brother, dreams of a moon, dreams of a emerald-eyed girl.

Van....He must be about 15 now, not much younger than when Folken himself had set off for the rite of dragonslaying. Perhaps he's gone on his own quest to become king, Folken mused thoughtfully. Folken didn't think of his homeland much these days. It was almost like had become another person. Staring down at his hand, he flexed his metal fingers. Strategos. Folken Strategos. Not Folken Fanel. Folken Fanel had long since died. Folken didn't' like to think about it, but it often took up a space in his mind, like a little mosquito, constantly buzzing in his ear.

"Hello Strategos." A high-pitched voice spoke, almost mockingly at him. Folken cringed at the sound of the voice and turned reluctantly.

"Hello Dilandau." Folken greeted the boy evenly, not allowing any emotion to cross his face. He knew that Dilandau would take pleasure in seeing any kind of reaction to his greeting. Folken wouldn't allow him that.

"And are you ready for the wedding Folken?" Dilandau's eyes slid over Folken, scanning the room, then came to rest on Folken again.

"Of course." He answered evenly. A thin smile parted Dilandau's lips.

"What is it Dilandau." Folken asked impatiently, seeing the suppressed look on Dilandau's face.

"Oh...nothing Strategos." Dilandau was still smiling, as if hoarding a great secret. Narrowing his eyes in irritation, Folken was about to turn away. But Dilandau wasn't ready to part with his audience. "Oh...but you might be interested that it has to do with Fanelia." His singsong voice was wheedling.

Folken froze at the name. He didn't turn around.

"Yes...thought you might be interested." Dilandau's voice held a note of triumph. Folken remained silent. Folken waited, knowing that Dilandau would burst sooner or later, and he did.

"We are going to attack Fanelia at dawn!!" His crowed.

The minutes seemed to tick by.

Folken turned slowly. Looking at Dilandau's smug expression, Folken gave him a blank stare.

"And you are telling me why?" His voice was even. Dilandau's face fell in disappointment as he didn't' get the reaction he had hoped for.

"But....you..it is Fanelia!" Dilandau exclaimed, still hoping to get something out of Folken. Looking Dilandau straight in the eye, Folken spoke.

"I am Fanelian no longer."

Dilandau's expression was crushed. He whirled out of the room.

Folken watched him leave, his face impassive. His mind though, was whirling. I am Fanelian no longer...was that really true? Had he really given off his true heritage and really become the Strategos?!!!

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Despairingly, Lourdes went over, once more what she was supposed to be memorizing for the wedding ceremony.

'I am willing to be become your loving wife, to have and to hold all you hold dear, to cherish my life with you. To share all I have with you, forever and ever. I will be with you.........'

And on and on it went. For five pages, it stated love after love, trust after trust. And she had to memorize this within the next few days in time for the wedding! Throwing herself down into a chair, she despairingly glanced over the words again. Why was it so hard to memorize? It was like the words just didn't want to stick in her mind. Every time she memorized on line, it would slip out of her mind, like grease, Only to have to be collected yet again. Frustrated, she looked at the clock. It was almost noon. Outside, the sun was dim And waning as always. How she had always wished for clear, open blue skies And a great burning sun. She smiled at her dream. It always made her happy.

Getting up, she put on her cloak, going again, for yet another walk around the gardens.

The air was warm, almost stifling. Lourdes wandered through the gardens aimlessly. How awful it felt, to marry against your will. Yet, was it against her will? Certainly, all the other ladies of the court envied her. She had heard them, whispering And pointing when Folken would enter the room. He was the epitome of what every woman wanted for a husband. Handsome, powerful, courteous, valiant, dashing, And always always so mysterious. Why shouldn't I be happy, she thought miserably. Because, that little voice in her mind retorted, he's not Kent. Lourdes shook her head in irritation.

"I don't care." She muttered.

"Don't care about what?" A voice surprised her out of her thoughts. She whirled around.

"Kent!" She exclaimed in surprise.

"Hello princess." He bowed.

Princess....that was all he ever called her now. And he was always so formal. Her mind was despairing. She remembered younger days when they had laughed, cried, played. The days when he called her 'Lou'. The days when he had been her best friend. Sadly, she reminisced.

"So what don't you care about?" He asked again.

She shook her head.

"Nothing."

"No what?"

"Nothing." She stressed, turning to go. Kent crossed the distance between them And grabbed her arm.

"No...what don't you care about?" He said, his voice low.

Lourdes searched his eyes, for a sign, an indication of what he was thinking. Everything was blank.

"I....nothing." She whispered softly. She was so close to him, she could feel his warm breath, smell the leather armor he was wearing. "I have to go." She hurried away, her skirts brushing the ground briskly, her heart racing.







High above, from his tower window, Folken watched them. He watched as Kent grabbed Lourdes in an attempt to stop her. He watched their eyes meet, their hearts searching. With frustration, he turned.

What was he to do? Call off the marriage? Call of what had been put off for almost ten years already? And for what...a petty childhood love? Sighing, he threw himself onto his cot. It had been brought up to his laboratory so that he could spend as much time as possible on his projects. Now, he lay on it, no thoughts of extensions or improvements in his head.

His eyes closed, And darkness fell on him.



Noooooo!

Pain and hurt, "Hitomi! Hitomi!"

Green eyes. Amber hair.

"Oh Van...."

"Fanelia is burning! I have to save my people!"

Shimmering eyes.

"Nooo..."

A pendant.

"Please...."

Shimmering eyes.



Folken awoke with a start. His head was damp with sweat. His heart was beating fast. Gods, why couldn't she just leave him alone! For almost 6 years, those eyes had stopped haunting him. And now, now it was back. The dreams were back and they were worse than ever.

"Why me..?" He whispered, his head in his hands. His temples throbbing, he could feel another sleepless night approaching. With a frustrated sigh, he threw off his covers and went out onto the balcony. In the night air, the mystic moon shone brightly. He sat, staring out over the city. Trying, trying as hard as he could, to no avail, to rid his mind of those amazing green eyes.



Chap.9



It was the day before the wedding. Folken was nervous beyond words. He paced his laboratory tower, back and forth, back and forth. It was his wedding, he should be happy, he should be excited, why did he feel this ominous feeling in the air? There was a light tap and Kent walked in.

"Hey." He said shortly. Folken nodded a greeting in return. Things had gotten tense between them. Almost like you could put a fork in the air and hear it *twang* just out of nothing. They stood there, both unsure of what to say. Finally, Folken cleared his throat. He didn't like this, he didn't like to be on unspeaking terms with the best friend he had.

"So..." Folken tapped his foot lightly. His metal hand was brushing lightly against the table, making a clicking noise.

"So..." Kent looked around, suddenly interested in the light fixtures. "So...your wedding is tomorrow."

"Yeah."

Kent cast a sidelong glance at Folken. "And you're gonna go through with it?"

Folken rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated breath. How many times had they been over this? How many arguments had they had only to make up again. How long would it take for Kent to understand?

"Yeah." Was all he said though. Kent was silent.

"Oh..."

"Kent..." Folken started.

Kent raised his hand, his head averted.

"I've nothing to say." He said, and with a brush of his cloak, was gone out the door. Folken could hear him crashing down the tower stairs. Looking away, Folken continued to stare out the window, at the grey listless sky of the Zaibach empire.



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Dilandau surveyed the ruin in satisfaction. Burning buildings and smoldering ashes met his gaze. He laughed out loud. With a quick swerve, he brought his guymelef's sword down on the citadel of Fanelia.

"Destroy!" He crowed. He crashed around for a while, shooting out flames and cutting buildings in half. The pleasure soon ebbed from it though. Looking around, Dilandau scanned the skies his retinue to return With a report on the dragon that the Emperor had wanted.

"Damn them.." He muttered. He was getting bored here, all alone in this wasteland that had been Fanelia. He suddenly felt a great hurry to get back to Zaibach to see to Folken Strategos' wedding. A small smile parted his lips at the thought of breaking the news to Folken that his beloved Fanelia was dead.

"Commander Dilandau...."

Dilandau turned his guymelef. One of his soldiers faced him in his guymelef. He held two people.

"Yes? Who are they? Kill them!" Dilandau waved his hand carelessly, about to turn away again.

"Umm...sir."

What?"

"Sir..it's the prince. And a strange girl."

Dilandau turned in interest.

"The prince hmm? And who's the girl?"

"We don't know sir."

"I see...and they're unconscious because...."

"I think the citadel collapsed on them in the fire, commander. The boy was proving some resistance in his own guymelef. It was an amazing guymelef, sir. I'm sure you'd like to take a look."

"Yes. Yes I would. Hmm.." Dilandau smiled. He looked at the boy. He was slender, With dark hair. Prince, was that what the soldier had told him? Yes, of course. The ornate sword gave it all away. That and the arrogant, determined look on the boy's face, even in unconsciousness, it was there. The arrogance of a prince. A prince...the prince of Fanelia. Where had he heard that before? Dilandau only had to think for a second.

"Folken Fanel..." Dilandau whispered. Of course. The rumors were always there, and as a child, he had found out quite easily. The servants of the castle were always more than willing to talk, for a few coins of course. A smile twisted his lips. That would make this boy....Folken's brother. He laughed softly. I've got you now, Folken Strategos, he thought.



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The day dawned dull and grey, as always . Folken sometimes wondered exactly why The sky was never bright. The Emperor had explained to him that many of The factories of Zaibach produced a certain cover, a cover over The city that kept out The sun. Folken remembered hearing him say that, and he remembered hearing that hint of wistfulness in his voice. A wistfulness perhaps, for The sun? For The clear, sweet air? For freedom perhaps? Shrugging, Folken stared at The ceiling of his laboratory. He had almost memorized The stone ceiling. All night, he had been awake, just tracing The contours of The ceiling With his eyes. For The past few weeks, he had slept up here. Sometimes, The dreams stopped. They'd be gone for days at a time, and during those times, Folken was able to sleep. He was able to work on his project, advance in his plans. Those days, he was able to think about The wedding rationally. Then, The dreams would return and haunt him for weeks. They'd leave him sleepless and brooding, unable to do anything but stare out at The city, envisioning The burning and The people, and always those shimmering green eyes.

There was a light tap on his door.

"Umm...sir." A servant stood With his head bowed in The doorway. Folken sat up.

"Sir, I was sent up to tell you that...The tailors are ready to fit you into your ceremonial robes now."

"Thank-you." Folken dismissed him With a curt nod. Dragging himself up, Folken passed The small mirror that decorated his doorway. He looked tired. For The first time in ages, Folken regarded himself in The mirror. His short pale hair was messy. He had thrown off his cloak in The night, but now, he drew it around himself again. Almost in fascination, Folken held up his metal hand. Watching in The mirror as he moved each finger, almost disgusted. I should be happy, he thought. The Emperor gave me Life back. He grimaced. Even now, so many years later, he could still feel it burning inside of him. Like a flame that would never distinguish. He had learned to live With it, and sometimes, it almost felt good. Like he was a part of The Emperor. But sometimes, late at night, when The dreams haunted him, he would lay there, his heart racing, and want to tear out The flame. Willing himself to stay in control. He closed his eyes, trying to forget a time...a time so long ago.

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Lourdes felt The soft material. It was a dress of The deepest lavender. It was long, and made of fine silk. It flared around her, Like a waterfall. Her wedding dress. It had been tailored by The finest craftsmen, and made from exquisite silk. It was beautiful. Yet....Looking nervously at The sun, Lourdes tapped her fingers again. When The sun was at it's quarter place, then she would be married to Folken. It felt so fast. In a few hours, she would be married to one of The most powerful men in The empire. One of The most intelligent, handsome, valiant and wealthy men in The empire, yet....why wasn't her heart jumping for joy Like it was supposed to? From her room at The top of The castle, Lourdes could see The people massing in The courtyard, ready for The wedding ceremony and party afterwards. Her heart skipped a beat. There were just so many people.

"Princess, it is time to talk to your Father."

Lourdes nodded at her lady-in-waiting. "Okay Merissa. I'll be there in a second."

With one last look out at The massing commanders and their brightly-clothed wives, she sighed. She had more or less relented to her fate. Maybe, life had given this to her, had chosen this for her. Maybe it was no use to fight it.

Lourdes looked up at her Father.

"Father.."

"Hello Daughter. Are you ready?"

"Of course Father." She put on a brave smile, hoping for some encouraging words from him. He only nodded, dashing her hopes that this meeting had been because he had wanted to say that he loved her before she was married. She let her head fall.

"Daughter, this is a very important day in my plans. You must perform well, or all else will fail. Do you understand this?" His voice was cold. Lourdes stared at The floor. "Daughter! You must capture his attention, and get him married! You must do your duty! I have raised you for this! Please answer me!"

Lourdes stared up at him, her pale eyes wide.

"Excuse me?" She said blankly. Dornkirk sighed, as if he was repeating something that anyone could understand.

"Daughter..."

She shook her head, suddenly angry.

"My name is Lourdes."

This time it was his turn to look at her blankly. Lourdes looked at him, unblinking.

"I said, my name is not daughter. It's Lourdes." She said, her voice echoing through The room. Dornkirk narrowed his eyes.

"Don't speak to me Like that daughter."

She didn't say anything, her head bowed again.

"Daughter, I have no time to waste on this petty babble. I am warning you, do not ruin this day. This day, Folken Fanel will truly become Strategos, and that, daughter, is essential in my plans. Do not make me regret The day I had you." His cold voice cut through her Like a knife.

Lourdes trembled. She hated The way she trembled and quaked under his glare, but she did it anyway. Raising a trembling head, her silvery hair framing her angular face, she looked at The man she called father.

"Do you even love me father?" She whispered, a realization suddenly dawning on her.

"Love you?" Dornkirk laughed. A shrill, chilling laugh. Lourdes looked up at him in horror. She wondered what she had seen for so many years, for suddenly, when she looked at that..that thing...all she could see was a horrible monster. With a gasp, she turned and ran out of The room, trying not to trip on her gown.



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"Dilandau." Dornkirk smiled, pleased at his progress. Dilandau bowed in The presence of The Emperor.

"My Emperor," He kneeled. A smile twisted his lips. "Are you pleased With The captures?"

"Dilandau. You have failed to bring me The dragon."

"What?!?" Dilandau looked up.

"The dragon is not The boy."

"But....." Dilandau was speechless. "But...he's..The prince..."

"Dilandau! I will not have you running off to pursue your own enjoyment in tormenting Folken. I ordered you to bring me back The Dragon of Fanelia, not to burn it to The ground and capture The prince and some strange alien girl."

"But..isn't The Dragon The prince?"

"Of course not." Dornkirk snapped. He had seen in his vision, he had seen a dragon. Not a boy. If Dilandau had burned Fanelia to The ground, then The dragon must've gotten away.

"I'm sorry..." Dilandau muttered, more than a little annoyed himself.

Dornkirk was silent. If anyone else, other than Dilandau, had used that tone of voice With him, he would've been in The dungeons already.

"We can still make this work." Dornkirk said shortly. "Bring The boy to me Dilandau. I'll get him to tell me where The dragon is."

Nodding, Dilandau turned, a plan suddenly forming in his head, as he heard The wedding music starting somewhere in The distance.



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Folken took deep breaths. It was odd, for he had watched many peoples tortured without batting an eyelash, and now, here he was, standing just inside The doorway of The courtyard, about to walk out to be married, and he was hyperventilating.

"Gods.." He wheezed. Beside him, Kent, his best man, patted him on The back.

"It'll be okay." He said shortly. Folken looked up at him and gave him a wry smile. Folken was glad that at The last moment, Kent had consented to be his best man. He didn't what he'd do without him there.

"Thanks. Are ya ready?" Folken tugged on his ornate ceremonial breastplate. It felt heavy and hot. Kent nodded.

"You?"

Folken shrugged. "Well, as ready as I'm ever gonna be." He grinned. Kent smiled. They could hear The ceremonial wedding music starting. On The opposite side of The courtyard, they watched as Lourdes entered, bedecked in a lavender gown that only worked to bring out her glistening eyes even more. It was tradition that The bride enter opposite The groom, and they would meet in The middle.

"Oh gods oh gods..." Folken muttered under his breath. Kent nudged him gently, to get him going. They walked slowly down The carpet. In The center stood a gateway, and an altar. Looking sideways at Kent, Folken could see his friend's face drawn tight, into a stoic mask. No emotion escaped.

They approached The middle. At The gate, Kent stopped, allowing Folken to continue on ahead. Watching Lourdes, Folken could see her looking at Kent, her eyes reproachful. He had to repress The urge to look back and see Kent's reaction. Folken drew up beside his bride. She looked up at him, nothing in her eyes.

The priest in The middle took each of their hands, placing one jeweled hand on top of The gloved hand.

"Today, we unite to join together two peoples in matrimony."

He read The wedding rites. Folken zoned out, not really hearing anything. There was a slight buzz in his head, but that could've been The five glasses of liquor that he'd drunk before attending. He could feel Lourdes' gently shaking his hand.

"....yes, I take Folken Fanel to be my husband, and King of all Zaibach." She was saying, her eyes on his. He was surprised to see her eyes to be dark, Almost a midnight blue. The priest turned to Folken.

"And you Folken Fanel? Do you take Lourdes princess of The Zaibach empire to your wife, Queen of all Zaibach?"

Folken looked at Lourdes, her shining silver hair long and her midnight eyes large and empty.

Suddenly, a shout pierced The quietness of The ceremony.

"Ahhh!" It was a girl's scream, and it came from The entrance of The courtyard. Folken looked to the source.

It was Dilandau......and some sort of prisoners of his, as they were tied up, With gags in their mouths. Folken wondered why Dilandau was standing there, The two prisoners tied up before him, grinning from ear to ear as if he'd just captured a fine prize. Somewhat irritated, Folken let go of Lourdes and strode towards The young commander.

"Dilandau what is The meaning....." He trailed off.

He noticed the prisoners for the first time. The girl that had screamed and the boy. The young man. A young man with dark hair. Folken froze.

The girl with the auburn hair opened her eyes and looked at him fearfully, yet there was something in her shimmering green eyes. Something that he had always seen, in his dreams, that he always remembered. She whimpered, yet her eyes were calm, swallowing him whole.

The boy with the dark hair opened his eyes. Folken stared. His stubborn chin, his slender build, his challenging eyes. So familiar. So like him.

"Van......." Folken whispered.

And Dilandau grinned.



To Be Continued..