Yet another change! This is the 4th post.... at the rate things are going, I probably should
finish the entire story then post it one by one. urgggg... I finally watched episode 24 and
25.... urgg... I screwed up. umm.. the major revision begins in chapter 5. Those of you
how already read it... clear Hitomi's words from your brain. ^^;;;
nothing much changed.. I just removed the flashback from chapter 4.
Van's personality changed yet again.... he's more insecure now.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------
Crash and Burn - chapter 4
by Rubie aka Jenn
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------
Dryden sighed and sank back into his deeply cushioned seat. It was comfortable, unlike
most practical Zaibach furniture. He preferred the old lavishness anyway. But he had to
admit his life was not strongly altered by Zaibach's control. In fact, they almost seemed to
yield to him. They needed his favor, he knew, since his father owned much of the energist
mines to the west of Fanelia.
He didn't like them though. They were so... false... A group of poorly trained dissenters.
He could laugh in their faces.
And he would have, that time, if Millerna wasn't there. She gave him a frightened
warning glance and he was silenced. She had changed so much in the past years. How
long was it since he saw her last? Two... almost two and a half years?
Sighing again, he looked at the letter. The ink was still fresh; the black had not begun to
fade to the dark brown just yet.
/The girl has returned./
Unbelievable. Unthinkable. Impossible. But, what else could lightning be without
thunder?
But what surprised him in the past and still do now, was that the boy king was still alive.
Zaibach had supposedly dismantled Escaflowne shortly after their victory, and he
assumed the stubborn boy would die with it. But it was not declared; it wasn't even
mentioned. They made no attempt to clarify it either. And Escaflowne was always a
sensitive subject he carefully avoided with Fanelia and Zaibach. Even if Escaflowne still
existed, it certainly had long since died in people's hearts. It had become a myth. And a
myth cannot become reality.
He scowled in frustration as he watched the paved Fanelian streets from his carriage
window. The skies were a murky gray, a precedent for a coming storm. The houses shone
with artificial light. The sun was just beginning to set and the shadows twisted beneath
feet. They were dancing. They were laughing. They were taunting him.
In disgust, he pulled the curtain shut. But he could not deny the feeling of guilt and regret.
He should have spoken out against Zaibach when they executed Allen. It would have
made Millerna happy. He should have spoken out against them with they exploited
Austria, Fried, and Fanelia. It would have made these people happy. Then maybe he
wouldn't be in the situation he was in now. But his father and advisors would have been
furious. And that would be suicide. Only rash fools would follow that path. And He was
not a fool.
The carriage jointed to a stop at the gates of the courtyard. A few murmurs were heard
before they swung open, and he was inside. He stepped from the carriage and approached
the guard at the castle's door. The foolish boy's eyes widened in recognition and bowed
hastily.
"Dr--Dryden-sama!" he stuttered.
"I have something to discuss with the king."
"The boy's head was still bowed, but his hesitance was obvious. "But... the ambassador is
not here to approve of it..."
"The king does not need an ambassador to bind him. Step aside." Almost harshly, he
shoved the young guard to one side and stepped into the main hall. Instantly, he shivered.
The room was dark.
Artificial.
Surreal.
Lifeless.
He followed the steps sure and firm to the boy king's office. He knew the castle well,
since he visited often. But he was not fond of the boy. It was different three years ago, but
since their defeat, he had been acting more and more like his brother. That thought was
mortifying.
He lifted his hand to knock, just as a loud shatter was heard. Then a few muffled groans.
Forgetting the formalities, he shoved the door open.
"Van!"
The boy king was on the floor, his arms in a pile of glass, his desk creaked as his body
banged against it. His back was wrenching violently, and he clutched at his chest with his
hand. His face was twisted in a painful scowl as he tried to harness the pain. He
approached the boy in long strides, but hesitated as he stepped closer. What was going
on?
The boy's back gave a final lurch and he retched. Blood flowed freely from his mouth,
staining the tiles and his arm clutched his chest. Then he fell forward, broken.
He wasn't sure if he should touch him. His mind was hazy as he desperately wondered
what he should do. He had an overwhelming urge to leave.... To run away and pretend he
was never there to see.... Then he wouldn't hold any responsibility for the boy king... But
he could not leave the boy lying in his office floor, half dead. Behind him, a soft click
betrayed a closing door. He jumped to his feet.
A girl he did not readily recognize stood in front of the silvery door. She was not tall,
maybe half a foot shorter than the boy king, and her body was concealed thickly in a long
dark coat. But the way she carried herself screamed for attention. No.. she wasn't
confident... just so... certain. But it was not herself. Her eyes were gray and calculating.
He did not like her. She was intimidating.
Then....
"You!"
She looked at him with the same empty stare. "You shouldn't have done that."
He was confused. "Done what?"
"Sent the guard away like that. You should have bribed him."
Despite her obvious retort, he felt a strange amusement. "That's not right. I expected
something different from a girl from the Illusionary moon."
"No, do what's good, not what's right. If you bribed him, then he wouldn't be running for
the ambassador right now."
He glared. "What are you saying?"
"We must leave, with Van and Escaflowne."
His eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't reply, and motioned him to be silent. He
frowned again. So Escaflowne had not been dismantled. Folken must be holding his
strings well. The fact that he was a Fanelian prince reduced his status in Zaibach. Yet he
still managed to control his subjects perfectly. Even when his brother was the king of
Fanelia. Even when he obviously disobeyed Dornkirk's wishes in preserving Escaflowne.
Even when he ignored their persistent requests. He wondered how he was able to
disregard the increasing influence from the nobles and the sorcerers to perfect the fate
machine, and gain power and control.
Steps approaching were heard on the stairs. His mind spun wildly, and he could feel his
back tense with horror. The guards were coming.... They were going to find him.. Who
knew what would become of this... His reputation... His property....
The girl didn't move or react, and he glared.
They stopped beside the door, and he froze. He could feel his blood chilling as he looked
around frantically for an escape.
A pause, and he held his breath.
"Fire!"
***
The engines roared to life and Dryden grinned despite himself. The information was
flawless. The ship was a Zaibach merchant ship. No country would dare intervene or
question their actions. That girl from the Illusionary Moon, in less than ten minutes, gave
him a detailed description of the Zaibach's new guymelelfs. Then she described the
mountain pass they would take to reach Austria with almost perfect detail. Her plan made
him uncomfortable, since he did not favor into hiding out in Dilandau's empire, but the
method she had explained Austria's recent conditions convinced him.
/Dilandau returns to Austria only twice a year, under pressure from Van's brother. He just
left Austria a week ago, so he won't be returning any time soon. The courtiers fear
Millerna-san's temper. They will not question her. Millerna has no wish to say in the
court either. She usually visits the forest towards the north of Austria around this time of
the year. We can meet her there./
Amazing. Disturbing. But he had to admit she was gifted.
He could hear frantic footsteps rushing past the ship, oblivious to their presence. Flames,
they screamed. Flames were licking at the king's chambers.
Dryden grinned broadly. The girl was quite gifted.
Moments before his arrival, she had set fire to the boy king's room. She must have
predicted the exact minutes of their arrival and planned it out carefully. She must have
had courage too... to set fire to a room without any regret or hesitation.
He felt strangely blissful from the recent developments, as if the events had given him a
renewed spirit. But at the same time, he dreaded where the new path would lead him. He
had much to lose.. and little to gain. Reducing Zaibach's power would no doubt reduce
his father's wealth as well.
But at the same time, he felt satisfied. For what, he was not sure. But perhaps his actions
now where justifying what he did three years ago. He ran away... because he couldn't face
the truth. But he wasn't sure if he even knew what the truth was. Was it defeat? Or was it
his cowardice?
He wasn't sure if he wanted to know...
Still, he felt a strange sense of complacence. The fact that he was fighting gave him a
sense of joy that fed his personal hatred for Zaibach. Yes... they ruined him. They made
him into what he was now. They took away everything he took pride in, and made him
materialistic. They made him like themselves, so that they could control him.
But now... now, Zaibach could not announce the boy king's disappearance without
adequate proof without revealing the videos from their escape. They would instantly give
away the presence of the heroine from their myths. Then in Gaea, a frantic and wild hope
would arise, and Zaibach would find their power diminishing. They could not announce
the disappearance of Escaflowne without betraying their weakness. They were trapped.
So whatever war they were going to wage, they must do it privately.
And whatever escape they made, they were going to do it blatantly.
/Fly low./ she had told him. /Make as much noise as possible./
Of course... so that the villages could see and hear and discover that their king was
missing. With the rumors spreading like wildfire throughout the town and the Zaibach
guards running through the castle, who knew what the people of Fanelia would think. But
whatever they thought, it would probably be against Zaibach's favor.
"What about that cat girl?" he asked as he turned to the solitary figure, sitting behind him
in the stolen merchant craft.
"She's not coming."
He was surprised. "Why?"
"Fate."
***
Van gasped for breath, desperately trying to drag his mind from the depths of its repose.
A dream. A nightmare. A flashback of the past.... a past that he forged. The path that he
chose. He didn't want to see it. He hated it, but at the same time, he felt that he had an
obligation to suffer.
Not that he saw the last days of his friend's life... the execution... He had been imprisoned
and didn't learn of it days afterwards. But the dream of Allen and Folken's conversation,
he had heard clips of. He saw pieces of videos that he secretly stole from the ambassador.
Those he played over and over again until the quality wore thin and the sound was barely
audible. He obsessed over it, he knew, and how strange it was for the mind to add life
when there was none.
And how ironic it was for the mind to torture itself.
He had been the cause of the death of his closest friend. Even to the last moments of his
life, Allen had tried to protect him and possibly his future. He sacrificed his entire crew
and himself for hope that he would have a chance to right himself.
But he failed him.
What wouldn't he do to change that? What wouldn't he give? He would give everything
that he still owned. Everything that he had a right to give. He would not give another's
life. He would not give something that did not belong to him. And Fanelia did not belong.
The only thing he truly owned was his life, and he wondered if that was worth offering.
Repulsive, they would say. A boy with a broken spirit. A coward who ran from his own
shadows. A king who lived as a puppet tangled in an impossible web of fate and politics.
His life would probably be worthless.
A jerk of the bed abruptly pulled him out of his thoughts. It was then he noticed that his
room was strangely dim, and the surface that his back rested on was rough and hard. The
windows glowed with a soft white, betraying a clouded moon in the night sky. The
ceiling was low and lined with metal frames. The rest, however, had a economical metal
alloy that he recognized as part of a leviship. His clothes had been changed. He wore a
large oversized shirt that he did not recognize as his own.
Where was he?
He dragged himself out of the bed wearily, noting the soreness of his limbs. There was a
strange coppery taste in his mouth that he identified as blood, and memories were
suddenly distinct in his mind. Muffling a groan, he pushed himself to his feet and
stumbled towards the door. He leaned on it heavily for a moment, breathing raggedly.
Escaflowne... he had to see it... where was it?
The door opened outwards, a fact that he had learned too late. He almost flew into the
hallway when the ground gave a sudden lurch.
A Zaibach merchant ship.
He was on a Zaibach merchant ship.
There was a crest on the door handle. He touched the same crest everyday when he passed
from his room to his office, when he passed from his office to the hall. How could he
forget? For a moment, he felt an inexpressible emotion rage. But he wasn't sure he even
knew what he felt, or why he felt that way.
The room was too dim to see anything, but there were soft footsteps approaching. At that
instant, he wanted to attack the advancing figure.
He was losing control... He had begun losing control since the day she came back. He
hated what she did to him.
He remained still in the shadows until the footsteps paused beside him. They were so
close that he could have reached out at touched the person. For a moment, he was
tempted to wrestle the man to the ground and snap his neck.
But that wouldn't be wise.
But it would make him feel a lot more comfortable. For a moment, he was torn between
hiding or acting. Then he flung himself at the figure. He thought he struck empty air, but
his hands connected, sure and firm. There was a muffled gasp and he felt himself falling.
His legs were somewhat unsteady, and his rusted senses were off. He did not know the
exact location of his enemy, but he was sure he had him by the neck.
Someone was screaming... It took a moment to realize it was himself. But it was a scream
of suppressed hate and anger that even he did not realize he possessed.
A bright light brightened the hall instantly. The shadows danced off from his face and
arms, a sharp contrast to the soft moonlight glow in his room. It took a moment for him to
register that he was kneeling on his enemy's ribs, and his hands were clutching at her
neck desperately.
"Hit -- Hitomi!" he whispered.
He pulled himself to his feet unsteadily, trying to control his expressions. She stared at
him with a inexplicable empty stare; a stare completely different from the one a night
before. They were regretful before, but now... now they were cold and pitiless. There
were distinct finger marks on her neck that were rapidly swelling. She didn't even try to
stand up. Strangely, the emotion was still raging in his mind. He wanted desperately to
hurt something. Anything. Just make something feel pain. He knew should feel sorry.. he
should feel guilty. Why couldn't he? He tried to force his face back into the mask of
indifference that was his shield, but it didn't seem to fit him as well as it did before.
He glanced over at the man who held the lamp and felt brief surprise. Dryden stood at the
hallway with a strange glare in his eyes. For a moment, Van wasn't sure what to say.
He flashed a polite smile and bowed. "Dryden. Its nice to see you again."
He kept his head bowed. He had an idea he didn't want to see their expressions. There
was a prolonged silence with neither of them bothered to break.
"That's it? No questions? No inquiries? Van, you've really become a puppet."
No emotion registered through his face despite Dryden's obvious retort. He should be
annoyed at that statement, but he could feel no anger. Good... he's under control. He did
not become a puppet by choice. It was not his fault. But despite his efforts to calm
himself, he felt strangely uncomfortable. He didn't like their prying eyes. He didn't want
to be stared at. Their gaze was so... obtrusive. He found himself wondering what they
were thinking abut him. He could feel a heat creeping up his neck. He almost wished
Merle was there. At least she understood him and provided support.
Don't look at me, he thought. Stop judging me.
He raised his eyes to meet Dryden's expectantly. "I was hoping you would tell me
without me having to ask."
An amused grin. Dryden did not like him, he noted. The way his eyes looked at him; they
were similar to those guards that watched in fear and awe, but with a mixture of disgust.
"We're on our way to Asturia. Escaflowne is safe. That cat girl is....," he paused and
looked at the figure still sitting on the floor. "I'm sure your friend will explain."
Merle... what happened to Merle?
Still no emotion. His mask was beginning to fit him better. No.. something happened to
Merle. He discomfort grew, and he felt a strange unnamed emotion wrench at his heart
and cloud his mind. He could no longer tame it. Why couldn't he feel worried?
He glanced at the figure leaning against the wall.
"Sorry about that. I thought I was among enemies," he said.
There.. apologize. Think about other things. Stop questioning yourself. No... he had an
obligation to Merle. He had an obligation to her. Why couldn't he feel worried? Had he
really become his mask?
"At least you still had some survival instinct," Dryden chuckled softly. "From the way
Hitomi talked about you, she made you sound like a vegetable."
A pause. He wasn't sure what to say. Hitomi shifted on the floor slightly.
"A vegetable is the lowest on the food chain. I guess I wasn't too far off when I implied
that everyone fed and trampled vegetables underfoot."
End of chapter 4
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------
Umm.... urgg... something is still not right. I can't figure out what it is. I keep getting
stuck on chapter 4. Its a black hole.. i can't run around it, I can't jump over it... I hafta fall
into it. URG!
I just realized... after 5 chapters that I've been spelling Asturia wrong the entire time!!!!!
URRRRRRG!!! I kept spelling it Austria! history brainwashes people I swear... umm.... if
you see any such mistakes, pleaaaaase tell me. I don't mind! I need critisim!!
finish the entire story then post it one by one. urgggg... I finally watched episode 24 and
25.... urgg... I screwed up. umm.. the major revision begins in chapter 5. Those of you
how already read it... clear Hitomi's words from your brain. ^^;;;
nothing much changed.. I just removed the flashback from chapter 4.
Van's personality changed yet again.... he's more insecure now.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------
Crash and Burn - chapter 4
by Rubie aka Jenn
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------
Dryden sighed and sank back into his deeply cushioned seat. It was comfortable, unlike
most practical Zaibach furniture. He preferred the old lavishness anyway. But he had to
admit his life was not strongly altered by Zaibach's control. In fact, they almost seemed to
yield to him. They needed his favor, he knew, since his father owned much of the energist
mines to the west of Fanelia.
He didn't like them though. They were so... false... A group of poorly trained dissenters.
He could laugh in their faces.
And he would have, that time, if Millerna wasn't there. She gave him a frightened
warning glance and he was silenced. She had changed so much in the past years. How
long was it since he saw her last? Two... almost two and a half years?
Sighing again, he looked at the letter. The ink was still fresh; the black had not begun to
fade to the dark brown just yet.
/The girl has returned./
Unbelievable. Unthinkable. Impossible. But, what else could lightning be without
thunder?
But what surprised him in the past and still do now, was that the boy king was still alive.
Zaibach had supposedly dismantled Escaflowne shortly after their victory, and he
assumed the stubborn boy would die with it. But it was not declared; it wasn't even
mentioned. They made no attempt to clarify it either. And Escaflowne was always a
sensitive subject he carefully avoided with Fanelia and Zaibach. Even if Escaflowne still
existed, it certainly had long since died in people's hearts. It had become a myth. And a
myth cannot become reality.
He scowled in frustration as he watched the paved Fanelian streets from his carriage
window. The skies were a murky gray, a precedent for a coming storm. The houses shone
with artificial light. The sun was just beginning to set and the shadows twisted beneath
feet. They were dancing. They were laughing. They were taunting him.
In disgust, he pulled the curtain shut. But he could not deny the feeling of guilt and regret.
He should have spoken out against Zaibach when they executed Allen. It would have
made Millerna happy. He should have spoken out against them with they exploited
Austria, Fried, and Fanelia. It would have made these people happy. Then maybe he
wouldn't be in the situation he was in now. But his father and advisors would have been
furious. And that would be suicide. Only rash fools would follow that path. And He was
not a fool.
The carriage jointed to a stop at the gates of the courtyard. A few murmurs were heard
before they swung open, and he was inside. He stepped from the carriage and approached
the guard at the castle's door. The foolish boy's eyes widened in recognition and bowed
hastily.
"Dr--Dryden-sama!" he stuttered.
"I have something to discuss with the king."
"The boy's head was still bowed, but his hesitance was obvious. "But... the ambassador is
not here to approve of it..."
"The king does not need an ambassador to bind him. Step aside." Almost harshly, he
shoved the young guard to one side and stepped into the main hall. Instantly, he shivered.
The room was dark.
Artificial.
Surreal.
Lifeless.
He followed the steps sure and firm to the boy king's office. He knew the castle well,
since he visited often. But he was not fond of the boy. It was different three years ago, but
since their defeat, he had been acting more and more like his brother. That thought was
mortifying.
He lifted his hand to knock, just as a loud shatter was heard. Then a few muffled groans.
Forgetting the formalities, he shoved the door open.
"Van!"
The boy king was on the floor, his arms in a pile of glass, his desk creaked as his body
banged against it. His back was wrenching violently, and he clutched at his chest with his
hand. His face was twisted in a painful scowl as he tried to harness the pain. He
approached the boy in long strides, but hesitated as he stepped closer. What was going
on?
The boy's back gave a final lurch and he retched. Blood flowed freely from his mouth,
staining the tiles and his arm clutched his chest. Then he fell forward, broken.
He wasn't sure if he should touch him. His mind was hazy as he desperately wondered
what he should do. He had an overwhelming urge to leave.... To run away and pretend he
was never there to see.... Then he wouldn't hold any responsibility for the boy king... But
he could not leave the boy lying in his office floor, half dead. Behind him, a soft click
betrayed a closing door. He jumped to his feet.
A girl he did not readily recognize stood in front of the silvery door. She was not tall,
maybe half a foot shorter than the boy king, and her body was concealed thickly in a long
dark coat. But the way she carried herself screamed for attention. No.. she wasn't
confident... just so... certain. But it was not herself. Her eyes were gray and calculating.
He did not like her. She was intimidating.
Then....
"You!"
She looked at him with the same empty stare. "You shouldn't have done that."
He was confused. "Done what?"
"Sent the guard away like that. You should have bribed him."
Despite her obvious retort, he felt a strange amusement. "That's not right. I expected
something different from a girl from the Illusionary moon."
"No, do what's good, not what's right. If you bribed him, then he wouldn't be running for
the ambassador right now."
He glared. "What are you saying?"
"We must leave, with Van and Escaflowne."
His eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't reply, and motioned him to be silent. He
frowned again. So Escaflowne had not been dismantled. Folken must be holding his
strings well. The fact that he was a Fanelian prince reduced his status in Zaibach. Yet he
still managed to control his subjects perfectly. Even when his brother was the king of
Fanelia. Even when he obviously disobeyed Dornkirk's wishes in preserving Escaflowne.
Even when he ignored their persistent requests. He wondered how he was able to
disregard the increasing influence from the nobles and the sorcerers to perfect the fate
machine, and gain power and control.
Steps approaching were heard on the stairs. His mind spun wildly, and he could feel his
back tense with horror. The guards were coming.... They were going to find him.. Who
knew what would become of this... His reputation... His property....
The girl didn't move or react, and he glared.
They stopped beside the door, and he froze. He could feel his blood chilling as he looked
around frantically for an escape.
A pause, and he held his breath.
"Fire!"
***
The engines roared to life and Dryden grinned despite himself. The information was
flawless. The ship was a Zaibach merchant ship. No country would dare intervene or
question their actions. That girl from the Illusionary Moon, in less than ten minutes, gave
him a detailed description of the Zaibach's new guymelelfs. Then she described the
mountain pass they would take to reach Austria with almost perfect detail. Her plan made
him uncomfortable, since he did not favor into hiding out in Dilandau's empire, but the
method she had explained Austria's recent conditions convinced him.
/Dilandau returns to Austria only twice a year, under pressure from Van's brother. He just
left Austria a week ago, so he won't be returning any time soon. The courtiers fear
Millerna-san's temper. They will not question her. Millerna has no wish to say in the
court either. She usually visits the forest towards the north of Austria around this time of
the year. We can meet her there./
Amazing. Disturbing. But he had to admit she was gifted.
He could hear frantic footsteps rushing past the ship, oblivious to their presence. Flames,
they screamed. Flames were licking at the king's chambers.
Dryden grinned broadly. The girl was quite gifted.
Moments before his arrival, she had set fire to the boy king's room. She must have
predicted the exact minutes of their arrival and planned it out carefully. She must have
had courage too... to set fire to a room without any regret or hesitation.
He felt strangely blissful from the recent developments, as if the events had given him a
renewed spirit. But at the same time, he dreaded where the new path would lead him. He
had much to lose.. and little to gain. Reducing Zaibach's power would no doubt reduce
his father's wealth as well.
But at the same time, he felt satisfied. For what, he was not sure. But perhaps his actions
now where justifying what he did three years ago. He ran away... because he couldn't face
the truth. But he wasn't sure if he even knew what the truth was. Was it defeat? Or was it
his cowardice?
He wasn't sure if he wanted to know...
Still, he felt a strange sense of complacence. The fact that he was fighting gave him a
sense of joy that fed his personal hatred for Zaibach. Yes... they ruined him. They made
him into what he was now. They took away everything he took pride in, and made him
materialistic. They made him like themselves, so that they could control him.
But now... now, Zaibach could not announce the boy king's disappearance without
adequate proof without revealing the videos from their escape. They would instantly give
away the presence of the heroine from their myths. Then in Gaea, a frantic and wild hope
would arise, and Zaibach would find their power diminishing. They could not announce
the disappearance of Escaflowne without betraying their weakness. They were trapped.
So whatever war they were going to wage, they must do it privately.
And whatever escape they made, they were going to do it blatantly.
/Fly low./ she had told him. /Make as much noise as possible./
Of course... so that the villages could see and hear and discover that their king was
missing. With the rumors spreading like wildfire throughout the town and the Zaibach
guards running through the castle, who knew what the people of Fanelia would think. But
whatever they thought, it would probably be against Zaibach's favor.
"What about that cat girl?" he asked as he turned to the solitary figure, sitting behind him
in the stolen merchant craft.
"She's not coming."
He was surprised. "Why?"
"Fate."
***
Van gasped for breath, desperately trying to drag his mind from the depths of its repose.
A dream. A nightmare. A flashback of the past.... a past that he forged. The path that he
chose. He didn't want to see it. He hated it, but at the same time, he felt that he had an
obligation to suffer.
Not that he saw the last days of his friend's life... the execution... He had been imprisoned
and didn't learn of it days afterwards. But the dream of Allen and Folken's conversation,
he had heard clips of. He saw pieces of videos that he secretly stole from the ambassador.
Those he played over and over again until the quality wore thin and the sound was barely
audible. He obsessed over it, he knew, and how strange it was for the mind to add life
when there was none.
And how ironic it was for the mind to torture itself.
He had been the cause of the death of his closest friend. Even to the last moments of his
life, Allen had tried to protect him and possibly his future. He sacrificed his entire crew
and himself for hope that he would have a chance to right himself.
But he failed him.
What wouldn't he do to change that? What wouldn't he give? He would give everything
that he still owned. Everything that he had a right to give. He would not give another's
life. He would not give something that did not belong to him. And Fanelia did not belong.
The only thing he truly owned was his life, and he wondered if that was worth offering.
Repulsive, they would say. A boy with a broken spirit. A coward who ran from his own
shadows. A king who lived as a puppet tangled in an impossible web of fate and politics.
His life would probably be worthless.
A jerk of the bed abruptly pulled him out of his thoughts. It was then he noticed that his
room was strangely dim, and the surface that his back rested on was rough and hard. The
windows glowed with a soft white, betraying a clouded moon in the night sky. The
ceiling was low and lined with metal frames. The rest, however, had a economical metal
alloy that he recognized as part of a leviship. His clothes had been changed. He wore a
large oversized shirt that he did not recognize as his own.
Where was he?
He dragged himself out of the bed wearily, noting the soreness of his limbs. There was a
strange coppery taste in his mouth that he identified as blood, and memories were
suddenly distinct in his mind. Muffling a groan, he pushed himself to his feet and
stumbled towards the door. He leaned on it heavily for a moment, breathing raggedly.
Escaflowne... he had to see it... where was it?
The door opened outwards, a fact that he had learned too late. He almost flew into the
hallway when the ground gave a sudden lurch.
A Zaibach merchant ship.
He was on a Zaibach merchant ship.
There was a crest on the door handle. He touched the same crest everyday when he passed
from his room to his office, when he passed from his office to the hall. How could he
forget? For a moment, he felt an inexpressible emotion rage. But he wasn't sure he even
knew what he felt, or why he felt that way.
The room was too dim to see anything, but there were soft footsteps approaching. At that
instant, he wanted to attack the advancing figure.
He was losing control... He had begun losing control since the day she came back. He
hated what she did to him.
He remained still in the shadows until the footsteps paused beside him. They were so
close that he could have reached out at touched the person. For a moment, he was
tempted to wrestle the man to the ground and snap his neck.
But that wouldn't be wise.
But it would make him feel a lot more comfortable. For a moment, he was torn between
hiding or acting. Then he flung himself at the figure. He thought he struck empty air, but
his hands connected, sure and firm. There was a muffled gasp and he felt himself falling.
His legs were somewhat unsteady, and his rusted senses were off. He did not know the
exact location of his enemy, but he was sure he had him by the neck.
Someone was screaming... It took a moment to realize it was himself. But it was a scream
of suppressed hate and anger that even he did not realize he possessed.
A bright light brightened the hall instantly. The shadows danced off from his face and
arms, a sharp contrast to the soft moonlight glow in his room. It took a moment for him to
register that he was kneeling on his enemy's ribs, and his hands were clutching at her
neck desperately.
"Hit -- Hitomi!" he whispered.
He pulled himself to his feet unsteadily, trying to control his expressions. She stared at
him with a inexplicable empty stare; a stare completely different from the one a night
before. They were regretful before, but now... now they were cold and pitiless. There
were distinct finger marks on her neck that were rapidly swelling. She didn't even try to
stand up. Strangely, the emotion was still raging in his mind. He wanted desperately to
hurt something. Anything. Just make something feel pain. He knew should feel sorry.. he
should feel guilty. Why couldn't he? He tried to force his face back into the mask of
indifference that was his shield, but it didn't seem to fit him as well as it did before.
He glanced over at the man who held the lamp and felt brief surprise. Dryden stood at the
hallway with a strange glare in his eyes. For a moment, Van wasn't sure what to say.
He flashed a polite smile and bowed. "Dryden. Its nice to see you again."
He kept his head bowed. He had an idea he didn't want to see their expressions. There
was a prolonged silence with neither of them bothered to break.
"That's it? No questions? No inquiries? Van, you've really become a puppet."
No emotion registered through his face despite Dryden's obvious retort. He should be
annoyed at that statement, but he could feel no anger. Good... he's under control. He did
not become a puppet by choice. It was not his fault. But despite his efforts to calm
himself, he felt strangely uncomfortable. He didn't like their prying eyes. He didn't want
to be stared at. Their gaze was so... obtrusive. He found himself wondering what they
were thinking abut him. He could feel a heat creeping up his neck. He almost wished
Merle was there. At least she understood him and provided support.
Don't look at me, he thought. Stop judging me.
He raised his eyes to meet Dryden's expectantly. "I was hoping you would tell me
without me having to ask."
An amused grin. Dryden did not like him, he noted. The way his eyes looked at him; they
were similar to those guards that watched in fear and awe, but with a mixture of disgust.
"We're on our way to Asturia. Escaflowne is safe. That cat girl is....," he paused and
looked at the figure still sitting on the floor. "I'm sure your friend will explain."
Merle... what happened to Merle?
Still no emotion. His mask was beginning to fit him better. No.. something happened to
Merle. He discomfort grew, and he felt a strange unnamed emotion wrench at his heart
and cloud his mind. He could no longer tame it. Why couldn't he feel worried?
He glanced at the figure leaning against the wall.
"Sorry about that. I thought I was among enemies," he said.
There.. apologize. Think about other things. Stop questioning yourself. No... he had an
obligation to Merle. He had an obligation to her. Why couldn't he feel worried? Had he
really become his mask?
"At least you still had some survival instinct," Dryden chuckled softly. "From the way
Hitomi talked about you, she made you sound like a vegetable."
A pause. He wasn't sure what to say. Hitomi shifted on the floor slightly.
"A vegetable is the lowest on the food chain. I guess I wasn't too far off when I implied
that everyone fed and trampled vegetables underfoot."
End of chapter 4
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Umm.... urgg... something is still not right. I can't figure out what it is. I keep getting
stuck on chapter 4. Its a black hole.. i can't run around it, I can't jump over it... I hafta fall
into it. URG!
I just realized... after 5 chapters that I've been spelling Asturia wrong the entire time!!!!!
URRRRRRG!!! I kept spelling it Austria! history brainwashes people I swear... umm.... if
you see any such mistakes, pleaaaaase tell me. I don't mind! I need critisim!!