Standard disclaimer applies.
Sorry about the last chapter, but that was a lot of necessary though boring facts. Getting closer to the yaoi and stress, hopefully. Many thanks to Dilandra, for review and assurance on Dilandau's personality. I really worried about messing up the characters.
*Author gets smacked with flying eraser "What about the rest of us?" *Many more thanks also goes out to other reviewers for reassurance on Hitomi's and Chesta's death scenes, I regret that I wasn't able to put this in earlier. *Ducks as carrot is thrown "LATE!" * Eherm, On with the show.
Dilandau trudged through the brush angrily. 'This, bites. Today, bites. I deserve better, and what do I get? This, this, this,…' Dilandau's mind searched frantically for a word to describe the anger, the fatigue, the frustration, the revulsion, the sorrow, the self-pity, the general unfairness that was life rigging the odds just so it could laugh when he tripped up. He didn't find it.
His arms were covered with multiple scratches and marks from the surrounding bushes and trees. He had tripped twice on outstretched branches, and was tired of running into trees. It was too dark to see more than three feet in front of him, and the trees kept on ambushing him. It was so humiliating. Plus, he was cold, hungry, tired, and severely upset. The only thing that kept him walking regardless of the trees instead of waiting for a search team was Van, the thought of presenting Van's head to Folken, and the look of terror, if only briefly, in Van's eyes.
He slammed into another tree, stared angrily at its impudence and audacity to get in his way. If it were possible to burn this forest down, Dilandau would have done it by now. As it was, he had made himself a personal promise to do so the minute he got back to the Vione and was inside his familiar guymelef, and the hell with what Folken said. Speaking of fires, he was reminded that he was still freezing. 'I hate the woods. I hate the trees. This is for uncivilized brutes, not for me.' Sighing deeply, close to drowning in self-pity, he ended his hike, and decided to set up camp. Unfortunately, setting up camp only meant starting a fire.
As it was, that kept him occupied for the better part of an hour.
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Van had arrived at area Folken had told him by air since he was in a hurry to get this over with. The actual battle, that was. He planned to make Dilandau's as long as possible. The area was bordering a cliff, a simple clearing hemmed in by gigantic trees. He circled from the air the clearing; there was no sign of either Dilandau or an Alseides. 'He's probably not here yet; I did fly.' As Van began to land, a small object beneath his shirt hit his skin burning. Van shot a quick look left without knowing why; and was just able to make out a Crima Claw that hung in the dark, aimed at him. He swung up violently, but multiple streaks of liquid metal caught him in both wings, as well as the left hip. Flight was no longer an option. The guymelef managed to transform before hitting the ground, sword out. Dilandau fortunately chose not to remain invisible, and the two guymelefs had rushed at each other and had been locked in combat, Van making first hit.
"This is for Hitomi!" A single sword thrust straight through the mechanism disabled the Alseides' left Crima Claw. The two guymelefs maneuvered closer to the edge, practically battling on the edge.
"Idiot. Is that the only reason you're out here? Just for a girl? Jeez, if I had known you were so sensitive I would have done it sooner. Next time I'll pick off the furry one."
Van swung angrily towards the right shoulder, which Dilandau blocked perfectly. 'Bitch. Teach you to touch my face.' Dilandau swung his sword lower, neatly dislocating the left leg at the knee and pushing Van over the edge of the cliff, moving the guymelef back quickly and out of reach. Van almost panicked. 'I can't fail her again, not twice.' Dilandau smirked at the boy's awkwardness and hysteria. What he hadn't counted on was Van grabbing his sword, jerking him forward, and pulling him over. The wall of cliff sped past them, no outcropping strong enough to withstand the weight of the guymelefs. Van plunged directly in front of him. To Dilandau's surprise, the cockpit opened and Van, jumped out and up.
'What the heck does he think he's doing?' As much as Dilandau wanted to see what the fool was doing, he had his own survival to worry about. There was no way he was going to let that runt outlive him. Dilandau had never lost a battle before, and he wasn't going to give that bastard the honor. He positioned Escaflowne beneath him, to muffle the impact. He didn't find out if it worked or not. He blacked out, and whether in death or shock he wasn't sure.
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After much deliberation and regret, Van chose to abandon the guymelef that he had worked so hard to win and guard, the pride of his people. Van had watched it fall before deciding to break his wings out of his back, courtesy of his mother's heritage. 'Damn. I wish I hadn't had to do that. Wonder if he's screaming? Wish I could see it; see the terror in his eyes. Thought you could cheat me that easy; what a fool.' Van glided playfully down, enjoying the feel of the cold wind run over his bare back, stretching the muscles he sometimes forgot were there. 'Well, that's happens when you deal with an Atlantean. We bring death to whomever we meet. And for once, I'm proud to be me. And now I'm going to break you're body, just like I promised. I'm a good boy, I always keep my promises. I hope you're not dead yet Dilly. It won't be much fun if you are.'
Van alighted gracefully at the edge of the debris and broken tress, flapping his wings once before melding them inside his back again. He flinched involuntarily; it always hurt more to have bones shrink than to have them expand. He walked jauntily towards the heart of the wreckage, inspecting the wreckage on his left and right, and looking very much like a contractor surveying new real estate for purchase. It was hard to tell where the Alseides began and were the Escaflowne was, despite their distinctive markings; they were that closely melded together. It was also hard to locate the cockpit of either; he spent three minutes trying to open the "thigh" of Escaflowne thinking it was something else. It was 10 minutes before he found it.
The portal had crumpled and was face down, the occupant inside unmoving, though Van couldn't see any blood. There wasn't enough room for him to carry Dilandau out; he settled for grapping his arm and/or hair and yanking him out that way and slumping him against the robot, sitting on tree trunk. His body was lukewarm, and there weren't any bones sticking out. There was bruise lodging with that pathetic scar, circles under eyes, and blood was on his shirt, though the source was unknown. Van checked his pulse: strong, though a bit irregular. He grinned broadly; Gaia had heard his prayers.
He decided to start with the face, wondering if Dilandau would awake while he was working. Deciding it really wouldn't matter, might even beneficial, Van withdrew his sword and traced it over the unmarked cheek, trying to mirror exactly the one opposite of it. The sharp point was a centimeter away from skin, a brilliant contrast to the indigo circles under his eyes. 'Or maybe I should reopen it, and then start on a new one.' Van dangled the sword over the other side of Dilandau's face. 'Or maybe I should just cut his head off and be done with it. NO! I promised Hitomi I would make him pay, I promised myself. I couldn't prote…I owe it to her. I owe her at least this. I can't back out now.' Van lowered his sword a few inches without really thinking about it. 'Maybe I shouldn't do it this way at all. Mother wouldn't approve of it. I know Hitomi wouldn't. It's not really me; it's more of type of despicable thing he would do. Maybe he's starting to rub off on me. All more the reason to just kill and be done with it.'
Dilandau felt like burnt up rubber; his head felt hollow, and his chest hurt. His lungs felt like they were on the outside of his ribs, and his ankles were banging and burning for some reason unknown. He slitted his eyes open, feeling fear on what he saw before he recognized what it was. Two pairs of brown boots. His feet got underneath him while he looked up sharply. A slender shadow with unmistakable floppy bangs arched in front of him, preparing to swing down.
Dilandau wasn't quite sure if Van had a sword or not, but he wasn't staying put to find out. He dove to the left, hitting the ground past Van, rolling to his feet, and drawing his sword at the same time. Van swung vigorously, the impact left both boys' arms shaking. "Try to kill me while I slept huh? Not very noble of you." Dilandau felt himself carried away into the familiar power rush that accompanied battle and made him both reckless and invincible. He thrust at Van's chest, but was deflected, so he only tore off a bit of right arm in the process. Van grunted, and switched hands. "There was nothing noble about stabbing a defenseless girl in back." "Oh come off that already would you!" Dilandau grinned. "And it wasn't in the back; she saw what was coming, she was awake when she died. Would you like to know what she said?" His conversational tone and words had the exact desired effect. Van's eyes brightened like flames under his bangs, horror and anger evident in them. With a scream he darted recklessly at Dilandau who hurriedly climbed the tallest point of wreckage, Alseides' shoulder. Van followed him obediently, blind focus in every movement. Dilandau turned around to stab first, catching Van off balance along with some more skin and forcing him to topple off the shoulder and onto somewhere unseen. Van managed to cut his upper arm and scratch his chest before he fell. Actually, he would have cut off his arm and gouged Dilandau's chest a lot deeper if Dilandau hadn't jumped backwards…
…and slipped off the robot as well. On a separate side.
Dilandau got up bleeding and clutching his left arm, anger and resolve raging through his veins and spreading to incinerate the rest of his body, dimming the pain and hurt and leaving only the anger of being hurt. Getting to his feet as quickly as his aching ankles would allow him, he raced to the spot where he had seen Van fall.
Van wasn't there anymore.
An empty spot and little swirls of dust remained where he had been. Dilandau scanned the area in front and in back of him, scrutinizing every shadow large enough to hold a person, picking up the tiniest sound, all the while moving backwards. Where was Van? Dilandau didn't know, nor did he choose to investigate. It was possible that Van knew where he was, and was waiting in ambush. Also, his cheeks were tingling in an odd and uncomfortable way, like the wakes of something passing through them. Dilandau faded into the outlying brush, still eyeing the area and waiting for Van to present himself.
He kept on moving southeast, to where he guessed the Vione was. He was in no condition to fight further; moving as quickly as he had a few minutes ago had been enough to tell him that something in his left arm was fractured if not splintered, due from either the fall or Van's blade. His ankles hurt and creaked terrifically; every walking step threatened to topple him no matter how carefully it was placed. He couldn't run; he would trip the minute he tried to sprint. 'And won't that be grand way to die. Tripped while retreating from enemy. An uneducated country bumpkin. Where is he, anyway?'
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Van watched Dilandau retreat, hidden behind some of the wreckage that seemed to clump together. He was shaking, his skin stuck like chilly plastic wrap to his bones; it didn't feel like he had muscles anymore. He could no longer feel his left leg; but the area above it was boiling and writhing like there were fire worms breeding there. He had broken bones before, except that before there had always been Merle to go for help. He was alone out here.
'Except for Dilandau. And for some unknown reason, I just can't picture him nursing me, or anybody else, for that matter. He left his own man easily enough. What a coward. At least he left. Should have killed him when I had the chance, but I failed again. Failure. The story of my life. Killing the dragon was the only thing I ever managed to do right, and that was because…I had help. I had the best of help.' Van sighed, and tried to stand up on his good leg, biting down a scream with the back of his hand stuffed down his throat. Ripping some of his shirt off, he bandaged the wound of his arm, which wasn't as serious as it had felt. A slender bit of piping and the rest of his shirt made a make-shift brace for his leg. 'I can't walk back, Escaflowne is completely inoperable and caught, so I'll have to risk it and try to fly. I've got to have some levitation first though.' Van stared up at the shoulder he had just fallen off of, and gave a very deep sigh. One that hurt his ribs.
He wasn't sure how long it took him to reach the top, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He tried desperately to block out all the pain his nerves said his body was in, and did a fairly good job of it. He spent a few minutes gasping and laying on the cold surface, before crawling slowly to his feet, using his scarab as a crutch. He looked down at the ground grimacing; there wasn't any wind. Opening his wings as gently as he knew how, he flexed them, searching for any damage and stirring little eddies of dust and dry leaves. Spreading his wings to their full capacity, he fell face down, flapping when gravity began to pull him down too quickly.
He managed to barely make it over the treetops heading southeast, where he flew until dawn began to break. Not wanting to risk the chance of the Vione seeing him, he soared down for a landing. Besides, he had dipped down twice in flight, starting to fall asleep while in flight. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept, nor ate. That was thing on the agenda, the second returning to the Crusade. He still intended to find Dilandau, though not in this condition. Landing in a tree hadn't hurt his leg as much as he had thought it would, but he was still starving. 'Do that later. Right now…catch a nap.'
Van thought he heard a dull thump, followed by some higher tinkling sounds, but he was too tired to really care or investigate.
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Folken still kept himself stationed at the observatory, facing northwest. He had his meals brought to him, and the sea shell pink beams of the very early mourning reminded him that he hadn't slept at all last night. There hadn't been word from neither Van nor Dilandau, and Folken doubted there ever would be.
A transmission from the Zaibach capital had come half an hour ago from Emperor Dornkirk. He had been enthusiastic; the dragon was no longer detectable, it appeared to have disappeared completely. The unknown element had also faded into the background, it had not been destroyed completely, but it was no arranged so that it did not interfere with proceedings. Due to this unexpected success, they were to move to Freid immediately, and active Atlantis' power once more. The Emperor had been emphatic that they were to go to Freid and nowhere else; things were perfect in the grand scheme, there was no reason to smudge them simply because of one missing soldier. Besides, the Dragonslayers were no longer a necessary group; the dragon had been taken care of.
Folken continued to peer out over the endless trees, though it was impossible to see the site without tools. Dornkirk had not said whether the dragon was dead or simply immobile; it had been taken care of, that was all that mattered. And if the dragon should ever come out of that care, it would have to be destroyed anyway, so there was no point in looking for it. But Folken continued to look anyway, though the fortress could not be moved. Dornkirk's orders had been direct; there wasn't room for a misinterpretation.
TBC…
If any of the fight scenes bore anybody, tell me and I'll minimize them. Also, if I'm going too deeply into detail, tell me about that too and it'll get fixed. I'm not quite sure when I want to have Van and Dilly match up friendly-like, so any hints and suggestions are great. Are these chapters too long or too short?