Author's notes: Hiya, heh I got lazy and stopped writing for a long time, sorry! But here's the next chapter! Hopefully I won't take as much time to write the next chapters. Eeeee... I wanna thank a bunch of people, #1 is for Koneko Kamiya who wrote 'Windflowers' she was kind enough to let me borrow some idea's from her story. So read hers, though I have no clue who hasn't already read it because it's so awesome! I also want to thanks to my bestest buddy in the world Chrissies! Lol, she wrote some really awesome spoofs! Lol, she seemed to be high at the time, she told me about it! But then, I can't think of when we're not, right? LOL, she's the one who can write all the long spoofs for Escaflowne, but I help too. Thank you to the people who've read my story! It's very encouraging, and they make me write faster, So if you want a new chapter you're gonna have to review this o-k REVIEW! REVIEW! Review! Oh and Also thank you Mika Iwakura, for letting me borrow his playstation! Yay! I love Final Fantasy VIII! I love Squall! *Drool* anyways on with the story! Plus I just saw Final Fantasy the movie, The ending was so sad! I cried! Shut Up Mika, You know it was sad! *Throws her shoe at Mika*

Disclaimer: I don't own escaflowne...at least I think I don't I was sugar high at the time I bought the rights to some Anime show...what was that? Woah! Am I still sugar high? *Sob* I don't own Van! *Cries hysterically* *steals Christine's ice cream and gorges. *Mouth full of ice cream*

" On wit ta storie!"and the plot was from Windflowers!

The Shattered Looking Glass

By: Melody!

Five years had passed since the tragic death of Van's mother, and the unexplained disappearance of his older brother, Folken. The years were filled with great difficulty. With all the training that had to be mastered in order to run a country, Van had no time to mourn the deaths of his family. The prince made it so he was so busy with his studies, that he wouldn't have to feel the pain of his loss. The boy had been so badly hurt, by the people who promised to always be there for him, that he surrounded himself with an emotional barrier, he vowed to himself, that he would never let anyone get so close and hurt him ever again.

Prince Van sat in his study, surrounded by volumes of books and scrolls. Outside it rained and thundered. The skies illuminated as lightning struck. It was late, as he read by candlelight. All the servants and nobles that lived in the castle had already gone to bed long ago, yet there he sat, at his desk, struggling to keep his eyes open. Looking up from the documents he read, Van groggily rubbed his eyes.

"Twenty-one pages down, only one thousand more to go." he said as he slumped his head on the desk and pounded it against the wood. Suddenly he heard a faint whispering, words he couldn't quite catch or understand. Lifting his head from the desk, and looking around he called out to the voice.

"Balgus?" but there was no answer nor did the whispers cease, but continued to grow in volume.

"Merle, is that you?" He asked as he quickly looked underneath his desk, hoping to catch her, but the cat girl was not there.

Taking the candle in one hand, Van left his studies, in search of the strange sounds. He followed the whispers, growing stronger with each passing moment, down a set of stairs, and in various corridors. Strangely, the noise hadn't wakened any of the samurai or servants. The whispering had grown so loud that it had begun to hurt Van's ears, until suddenly… the castle became dead quiet.

Van stood at an old door, the wood now rotted, the hinges rusted. The door of the room remained untouched for years. The boy placed his hands on the dull, unpolished, knob and turned it, the door wouldn't budge. Van had to give it a strong shove before it noisily creaked open. Van was taken aback as he entered the room, once filled with joyous memories, now it was almost frightening, and ghostly. Van had made it a habit to leave this particular room untouched. Strange the room was once very clean, but now spider webs and cobwebs hung from the ceiling and various pieces of furniture. Dust covered everything, like a blanket of snow, up to the curtains and down to the floor. Waving the candle in various directions, he glanced around the room, shadows became the unimaginable, causing the boy to draw his sword. He stepped towards a table, lighting the kerosene lamp. Looking around Van saw a familiar book resting on the dusty bed, he picked it up with trembling finger tips, as carefully as he could manage. He wiped the remaining dust from the book; the cover reading 'Dragons' Van closed his eyes remembering how, this particular story had once been his favorite. He remembered picking this book as his bedtime story that night, only to have it never read to him,

"The hero defeated a troublesome dragon, and became the King of Fanelia."

"Brother, why did he kill the dragon? It's so mean."

" Right, Van. It's mean to kill a dragon."

He opened his eyes. Turning the, yellowing, pages of the book, only to have them crumple, by the slightest touch of his hands. Lightning flashed, lighting a dark corner of the room, reflecting off of something. Van placed the old book on the bed as he walked over to the dark corridor of the room. Peeling the white sheet from the old structure.

A foggy figure stood before the prince, rubbing off the remaining cobwebs from the object, he made the observation that the figure who stood before him was his own, a reflection of himself in the mirror. The Prince looked into the glass, unfamiliar with the face he saw. A boy, around the age of ten rotations, who was tall and gangling, with pale skin and midnight strands of unruly hair. The boy brushed the strands of hair out of his face with his fingers. Gazing into the mirror once again he looked into his own, Garnet eyes; eyes that revealed a sense of longing, and a touch of loneliness. Touching his face with the palm of his hand, his complexion showing just what the melancholy was doing was doing to him. Quickly Van turned away from his reflection, disgusted with what he saw. If he couldn't face himself, then how was he ever to become the type of king his father had always hoped he would be? Looking up from the floor, Van gazed at the drawings pinned to the walls, all in crayon. Two boys, one small stick figured boy, with black hair and another tall boy with blue hair.

"I made this for you!" An excited boy exclaimed.

'Folken...' Van thought, closing his eyes in hurt and anger, he once again only to face his reflection once again, a reflection of a face that was starting to look more and more like his older brother's. A brother. Whose fate was unknown. He had either run away, like a coward or he had died fighting the dreaded dragon. Tired of staring at the face whose features became more distinct each day, a face more like Folken's face... The man who he thought to be a coward, the brother who abandoned him five years ago. With all his might Van hurled his sword, shattering the reflection glass to pieces.

To be continued…