Disclaimer: If you think I'd take credit for something that isn't mine, you're nuts. Of course...Galli is mine so...I'd appreciate it if you didn't steal her likeness. (note: I know I can't stop you from stealing her! I'm not an idiot!). Oh, and as you can tell, I have absolutely NO creativity with titles so bear with me.
To Have Faith in the Face of the Unknown
A dramatic fic by Misery
March 15. Two o' clock in the morning. I was up, ready to fight. I had always been known as the quiet girl in school. They had never known me, not really. My dagger was drawn. The bushes rustled again and I wished with all my heart that I had not lost my sword in the crash. The Guymelef crash that rendered me unable to use my right arm. It had been mangled in the steel, and I had, had to pull it out the painful way. I had no idea that I would never be able to use it again. Ever. The bushes rustled once more and I backed up slowly. Afraid...I was always afraid back then. Footsteps...someone-or something...on two legs. Limping, wounded; like me.
"Who's there?" Called a masculine voice from the bushes. No one I knew. I kept my dagger ready. Did not answer. "Hello? Please, I'm hurt. Unarmed. Ah, I need help-PLEASE!" There was a dull THUD and the voice spoke no more. I wandered to the bushes, curious. A body lay in a small clearing, face up. A boy, no more than fifteen. My age...he was dead. There was a wide gash in his leg, and one on his chest. I turned him over. His head was split open...it was an incredibly fresh cut...and clean. A sword? But I hadn't heard footsteps other than those of the boy. I decided to leave. It was not safe in the small clearing. I got up, too swiftly. My arm gushed blood. It had seeped through the soft purple cloth I had tied around it from my undershirt, and the leather of my uniform. I felt dizzy and leaned on a tree. Where was Dilandau-sama?
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Date unknown. Time unknown. Dilandau-sama still had not shown up. Neither had any of the other Dragon Slayers-my comrades. Were they even looking for me? I had passed out twice now. Lost track of time. The blood loss was immense, I could not stop it. I was feeling sluggish and could hardly stand. I was now at the edge of a small brook. I drank until I was full and washed my arm. It still bled heavily. By then an infection had started and it hurt constantly. I could not hear the creature walk up behind me. It was as silent as an owl at night. All I felt was a sharp pain in the back of my head. Then the world went black.
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Next day. Date unknown. Ten o' clock at night. I woke up and looked around. Careful not to move my right arm. So many of them...They were all around--staring. At me. I was in a cage; made of what looked like Bamboo sticks. My dagger was gone. I had no weapons. I was terrified. As you would probably like to know, I will now describe the creatures that had taken me. They were short. As tall as Shesta at the most. They had the heads of weasels, with glowing red eyes and fangs that reached to their chins. Their bodies were that of a Gryphon. A lion's body with the talons of an eagle. They seemed to come in all colors. Not only brunette and blonde, but a startling shades of blue, green and fuchsia as well. I never found out what they were called, but I later read in a book about a race of creatures that bore striking resemblance to the monsters I met that night. They had been called The Clan. No more than that. Just The Clan. They didn't speak, only motioned with their hideous heads. I will not tell about the events that occurred during my time with the ones I believe were The Clan. They bring me memories I only wish to forget. I consider myself very lucky to be breathing after the confrontation, for I also read that The Clan were cannibals, and notorious for feasting on human flesh. Dilandau-sama...why hadn't he come for me yet?
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Two days later. Maybe March 18. Four o'clock in the morning. I had escaped from the creatures. I had always been good at picking locks. The Clan apparently went to bed at twelve o' clock. Dilandau was the last thing on my mind. At the top of my priorities was food. Hunger had overcome me. It had been three and a half days since I had last eaten. The hunger gnawed away at my insides until I could hardly take it anymore. I had no weapon. I could not hunt. I could not fish. I was helpless. Lost and hungry in a place that I did not know. Oh, the hunger...there were berry bushes in the next clearing I came to. I ate all that I could. Satisfied and feeling much better, I decided to search for the Vione myself. The area I had crashed in had only been half a mile from the city of Palas. The capital of Asturia. If I could find my way back to my Guymelef I would be safe. But I had no Idea of where I was. No idea of where to start out. I went North. The direction I had run from. Careful to stay almost a mile from the terrifying city of The Clan. I sat down on a stump in the middle of the forest, and became extremely aware of the fact that my arm didn't hurt. In fact, I could feel nothing. I could not move my fingers, elbow anything. I became hysterical.
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Then I heard a Guymelef, stomping through the forest. I called out. I did not care if it was Dilandau-sama or not. I was desperate to get out of that forest. Any time, other than that, it would have been the last Guymelef I would have wanted to see. Escaflowne. The Dragon. I did not care at that point.
I must have looked terrible when Van saw me. My long brunette hair was a mess. Before, it had been pulled up in a ponytail with a wide blue ribbon. Now it was loose. I had used the ribbon as a bandage. My eyes were dull--lifeless. My uniform was ripped and torn and blood soaked. But he took me to Palas. Where I contacted Dilandau-sama. Where my arm was seen to. Though I would never use it again.
When Dilandau-sama arrived at Palas, I almost cried. He had searched for me, everyone had. But I had been moving around too much. They were all shocked when I showed them my useless arm. I thought I would have an honorable discharge, but Dilandau-sama told me that he could not afford to loose a good fighter. Then he slapped me. Everything would be allright. It was difficult, learning to use my left arm to wield a sword. To this day I am the only left-handed Dragon Slayer.
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March 20. One year later. Six o' clock in the evening. The other Dragon slayers sit in a circle around Galli listening to her story. Shocked at how she survived four days in the wild with nothing.
"But I always had faith that Dilandau-sama would find me. So there is a lesson to be learned here. Never give up. Always believe in Dilandau-sama and you will survive. No matter what." Gatti and Migel nodded in agreement. Chesta looked horrified. Guimel, Dalet, and Viole said nothing and made no moves, but they looked impressed. Dilandau-sama sat in the shadows, looking smug. Galli stood up suddenly and walked out of the room calmly. In the hall outside, she stopped and sat down, leaning against the wall. She looked at her cripple arm and a single tear rolled down her cheek. Things would never be the same. Ever. "But no matter. No matter. I must not dwell on the past, else I will become weak. No, I will not dwell on my past, but on the events of the future. Yes, the future. The Dragon...The Dragon...Van Finel. I will make Dilandau-sama proud of me once more."
Author's Note: And...that's the end. Now that I read it over, I realize that there could be more to this story, but whatever. I'm too lazy to write more. R&R please! Domo arigatoo gozaimasu.
~Misery~