wizened
Author's note: Thanks for reading Please review. Anyway I kind of crossed-over the movie with the TV series and added a lot of my own. *grins* more importantly, people who are dead aren't and events that are supposed to happen (according to movie and series) ain't gonna. Also, Esca time is where it should be, but time on Earth is farther ahead.... Oh yeah Hitomi is on Gaea and she doesn't realize how the fast the Mystic Moon's time has gone by.
Sorry Folken fans! I love Folken I really I do it's just that the mean son of a bitch in the movie fits this story so much better! Once again I'm sorry…there is some serious Folken bashing in this fic!
All original Escaflowne characters, ideas, and settings belong to who they belong to *not me.... wails* Hunter, Blade, and Silver are mine! As well as any other characters who aren't of Esca origin. Unless of course I borrowed them from somewhere else…that is possible you know. I could've read about something somewhere, and just happened to use them…and I'm rambling again…gotta go!
Thanks for reviewing! It really brightens my day!
Yeah! The dirty old man on life support is dead! (I thinks someone pulled his plug…) Alleluia!
Hey any ideas for a pairing with Silver? (I know…I'm a terrible matchmaker…)
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Part Eight: A Forced Idea
Entering her 'quarters,' the first thing Silver noticed was Hunter stretched out on the divan. With her muddy combat boots still on, and resting on the armrest. She stifled her laughter and stepped over Blade, who was lying on the floor, and made her way over to the bed. It annoyed Silver how her sisters could sleep anytime; anywhere they wanted to, yet she could not. Blade had told her once, 'Hunter doesn't care about comfort, and I'm just strange.'
Hunter had asked Folken early yesterday about a training area. At the word 'training' the other two girls winced. Training meant hard grueling work, at least in Blade's perspective. Silver didn't mind it so much, as to the fact it was Blade who usually got the blunt of Hunter's anger, mainly because she had been the cause of it. The youngest Sister of Death had learned long ago not to mess with Hunter. When Hunter got angry, she got angry, and you don't want to mess with an angry Hunter. Blade groaned from the floor, and rolled over.
"No more good soup," She moaned, and shifted slightly. What? Silver placed a hand over her mouth and tried to choke back her laughter, in which she succeeded in doing. Blade had been right; she was strange. Now that she thought about it, Blade wasn't the only one to be a little weird in the eyes of others. Most people didn't understand them, didn't even take the time to. Hunter had her blunt nature, Blade's nature tended to be rough and unruly, while herself, she was quiet outside, yet dangerous. They all where. They didn't receive the name Sisters of Death for nothing. Hunter stretched, cracking a few joints as she sat up. Silver winced. Damn… She watched as her sister tidied her light brown, almost dark blonde hair. What I would give for her or Blade's hair… Hunter surveyed the room and found her sister sitting on the bed. She smiled, which Silver returned. To most people, Hunter's grin was cocky, overbearing, sure-of-herself. True it tended to be, but it meant no harm. When she grinned with malice, that's when you where in trouble. She had never seen that look of absolute hatred and vengeance on anyone else. In which her sister's eyes would turn to ice crystals. Promised revenge dripping from her fountain of ill-willed words, along with her pearly white teeth which, although perfect, spat venom like a snake. Silver shuddered inwardly; once again becoming fully aware of the things Hunter was capable of. That they all where capable of committing. Survival of the fittest…that's the way the wheel of fate turns… No, Silver realized that she had seen that look before. Combing through her memories of the past few days, she came across one that freaked her out. Only a few days ago, when they had entered the city…Folken had stopped Dilandau from hurting that guard and then moved ahead of him. She had seen that look flicker cross his pale face for the fleetingest of moments. How can two people so different…be so much alike?
"Silver? You awake? Or did you learn how to meditate without telling me the secret of how you do it? Do you know what I would give to learn how to float?" Hunter asked Silver who broke out of her thoughts to smile at her oldest sister.
"No…I was just thinking, you know…deep thoughts…" Silver replied shrugging her shoulders. Hunter smiled.
"Oh…that's…pretty cool to! Hey what Blade worm out of Dalet?" Hunter asked gesturing to the sleeping form of Blade on the floor. Silver shrugged.
"All she said was that the Emperor is dead, he was like two-hundred or something, and on life support," Silver replied, "Oh and he and Folken where really close, and Dilandau wasn't very fond of him,"
"That's it? Something's going wrong with her touch. Any other time she'd have the info in ten seconds flat," Hunter said confused. Silver nodded in agreement. Blade was good at getting information out of people, safes, vaults, and whatnot. Her eyes suddenly lit up with a sudden insight. I didn't realize it was that bad…
"Or…maybe it's just Dalet…" Silver whispered. Hunter gaped at her for an instant, her chestnut eyes fumbling for an answer. When it came, a small gasp accompanied it. Hunter ran a hand threw her hair, bewilderment stuck on her face. She rubbed her nose, and Silver knew exactly what she was thinking, for she herself was thinking the same exact thing. This is not good…I didn't realize it was that serious…
"Oh shit…we are screwed," They said in union. If some one had been standing outside of that room, that person would have thought that only one person had spoken, not two.
Dilandau paced back and forth in his 'throne' room. His loyal Dragonslayers knelt in front of him, their heads bowed. Jakuja was at the end. The hound-man had not been with them on the razing of the village of Carnel. Folken had taken the liberty of sending him on a solo mission. That angered the young General. No one over steps my authority!!! He paused for a moment pondering the wicked and twisted things he wished to do to Folken. One of these days the silver-haired teenager would hurt that bastard. He continued to pace, while his slayers stayed silent and still. Politics would hang in the air for quite some time. Dilandau always knew there was a squabble over who would inherit the throne. Emperor Dornkirk did not plan on dying. Especially with that life support machine, stabilizing his condition, holding off the inevitable. Which had finally come. Death. Now some duke, prince, or anyone with 'royal' blood could take the throne of Zaiboch. Dilandau did not care who reigned as long as he had his battles to fight. The only thing he dreaded was a peaceful ruler. Like Emperor Rumakoski, the ruler some centuries before Dornkirk's time. Without bloodshed, Dilandau would go slowly crazy. Once again Dilandau stopped pacing. Only this time his eyes fell on his slayers.
"Dalet, stay. The rest of you go. Go train," Dilandau ordered. Quickly they filed out of the room. All except Dalet, who stayed in the same position. His long hair hid his face from Dilandau's view.
"Stand Dalet," Dilandau said with the same tone of voice as before. Dalet stood, his eyes lowered to the ground. He had learned from past experiences not to mess with Dilandau in this mood.
"Yes Lord Dilandau?" He asked, his voice even. Dilandau slammed his fist against his cheek. Dalet stumbled backward, but did not fall. His master's eyes where narrowed, and his lips curled into an evil smirk.
"Did I ask you to speak Dalet? Now I want to know what is going on between you and that girl," Dilandau said. He didn't ask, but instead said it with the air of a statement. Dalet's eyes rose to meet his commander's. Dilandau noticed there was a question hanging in them.
"Well? …Are you going to answer me?" He asked his voice getting angry.
"Lord Dilandau…I assume by 'that girl' you mean Blade. I-I…nothing is going on…" This time Dalet did fall. He glared up at the General. Dilandau caught and returned his glare.
"Don't lie to me, Dalet," He said while his rage was building, climbing to huge proportions. In the back of his mind, Dilandau realized that this rage had nothing to do with Dalet and Blade. He wasn't exactly sure what it was about, but since Dalet was there; he took it out on him.
"I-I'm not lying to you Lord Dilandau! Folken ordered me to watch out for her!" Dalet protested. Dilandau jerked his head towards Dalet, his eyes on fire.
"Folken was involved? He ordered…and you listened?" Dalet shrunk away from his leader.
"Lord Dilandau…I…he came and said it was your orders…" Dalet replied, trying to spare himself from Dilandau's wrath. Dilandau's gaze turned from fiery to calculating. Hum… he started to pace again, relieving Dalet some.
"Why? Why would he do that? Why bring them to Boktor? What does he want with them?" Dilandau mused out loud. Dalet did not say anything. He knew this tone of voice. It meant, speak and I hurt you. Dilandau repeatedly ran his index finger over his right cheek, calming himself. What does he want? Dilandau repeatedly tried to piece the puzzle together. The problem was, he didn't appear to have all the pieces. What was he missing?
"What? Dammit!" Dilandau snarled. The Dragonslayer who had remained on the floor winced; Lord Dilandau angry was not a nice Dilandau, hell, there was no such thing as a nice Dilandau. Dilandau's questions, however, caused Dalet to think. What did Folken want with those girls?
"…Lord Dilandau?" Dalet's voice broke through to Dilandau. He turned and gazed at his Dragonslayer.
"What?" Dilandau growled back, his anger coming from the frustration that raged within him. Dalet stayed where he was on the floor. His face however portrayed the confusion and slight frustration that Dilandau was feeling.
"If Bla…these girls are important to the Strategoes, what would he use them for? He already has control over us…at least he thinks so," Dalet said. Dilandau stared at him some pieces of this intricate puzzle coming into grasp. Hunter…fighter. Silver…not sure…Blade…?
"Dalet…what is she good at?" Dilandau asked curiously.
"Who, sir?" Dalet asked puzzled. What was his commander trying to say?
"Blade…what does she do well?"
"I, I'm not sure exactly Lord Dilandau. She's very good at stealing…but otherwise…I'm not sure," Dalet answered. Dilandau continued to pace, muttering to himself. Stealing? …the perfect thief…
"Dalet. I want you to get close to her. Find out all you can about the three of them. Everything. You may go. Join the others in their training," Dilandau ordered, his voice calm. Dalet stood, turned on his heel and left the room. Dilandau sat in his throne drawing a dagger over the metal chair. A low scratching sound filled the room. It did not bother Dilandau who continued to place pieces of the puzzle that had been placed together. He was the little child who would labor for hours to fit his toy back together, or until it modeled to his liking. However much some people denied it, Dilandau and the Dragonslayers were no longer boys. Their bodies had hardened to the utmost perfect physical physique, and they no longer thought of childish dreams. They where warriors to the core. And warriors were dangerous enough, but warriors lead by Dilandau Albatoa, meant death to any and all that opposed them.
Hunter strolled along the halls behind the servant who Folken had sent to 'retrieve' her. Whoever it was seemed very nervous in her presence, though Hunter had absolutely no idea why. I didn't say anything… She smirked smugly. Poor dude…he was only doing his job…
"Hey…mister? Are we there yet? How much longer?" Hunter asked pleasantly. The poor man literally shook and Hunter spotted sweatdrops rolling down his neck. Rain on a window plane…Blood from a wound… She rolled her neck, trying to get the large kink out of it. Her neck would get stiff otherwise, and she couldn't have that happening. Glancing out some windows she passed, she saw that it was a beautiful morning. The sky was dark, threatening to spill the rain that was coming. Hunter loved rain. It washed away everything. The young man-servant in front of her suddenly stopped, and motioned up a staircase.
"H-he's up t-th-there…remember to knock…" he whispered as Hunter easily, but warily began to climb the steps. It was a circular staircase that made Hunter edgy. Objects without corners tended to offer no hiding places in the case of an emergency. Though she was unsure of what emergency that might be. Even after Silver's words of warning about Folken, Hunter felt absolutely no fear for that man. Finally reaching the top she stood staring at the wooden door before her. Something was up, and Hunter did not like the suspense. Whatever it was, she knew it wouldn't be good for her. Raising her right hand she struck the door thrice. Nothing. The silence made the fifteen-year-old nervous, a state in which she rarely found herself in. Brushing her hair out of her face, Hunter knocked once more. Again, nothing. No shuffling of feet, no voice telling her to come in or to leave, no nothing. Instead of what many rational people would do in her case, leave, Hunter reached for the knob on the door. Testing it, she found it turned quite easily. The door swung open without sound. She entered slowly, her eyes studying her current surroundings. Dammit! The bastard calls me here and he isn't here himself? What the hell is up with that? And why is it so quiet?
"I was afraid you would not grace me with your presence, Hunter," the sound of Folken's voice surprised the girl, and for a fleeting second she had been ready to throw her switchblade at the movement. Instead she wrapped her hand around it just in case. Much to her dismay, the Abaharakis had taken her favorite dagger, and she had not gotten it back. Hunter's upper lip curled and she turned to face Folken.
"Why not? Don't you think I have time for the little people?" She asked sarcastically, practically spitting venom. Folken didn't smile, he didn't frown. Instead he just stood there watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. In return, Hunter examined him calculating how many ways she could actually hurt him.
"You did, but now you don't Hunter. You schedule is going to be quite full for many moons," Folken replied in his annoying nondescript voice. Hunter, who had just been wondering if he carried any knives under that floor-length cloak, jerked herself back to the present.
"What do you mean my schedule is going to be full? You don't have any choice over what my time consuming activities involve," She replied haughtily.
"No, I don't, not really anyway. Dilandau will be the one to decide that," Folken said while he was examining a crystal figurine. Hunter's eyes narrowed and she took a step closer, all the while fingering the switchblade in her hand.
"What the hell does Dilandau have to do with this?" Hunter asked, her voice hovering on dangerous. Had Folken the experience with her, he would have realized the thin ice underneath him was about to break. Instead he faked bewilderment.
"Don't you know? Dilandau has requested, although I am not sure why, for you and your sisters to become Dragonslayers…and since he absolutely demanded this happen, I said it would be so," Folken replied astonished. Hunter balled her hands into fists, holding the knife so it would not injure her.
"He…he what? And you…you agreed? Why the hell do you think I'd agree to that? You have absolutely no authority over me. Or my sisters for that matter," Hunter responded. Dragonslayers? …why would…
"Hunter, Hunter, Hunter…I've always had that authority over everyone. And when Dilandau wants something he gets it," Folken said smugly. Hunter stared at him, her eyes burning coals.
"No. Absolutely not. My sisters and I will not work for you. You will not be able to…to…" Hunter's voice stopped. Her entire body felt like it had been coated in cement that was almost done drying. Hunter's lungs felt like they were being smothered. It was like someone was choking her whole body. She labored to suck in air, getting only a hair above the borderline of suffocation. What the hell's happening to me?
"Hunter…you will listen to me, otherwise you'll die. Do you want to die, Hunter?" Folken asked mocking her. Mocking her struggle to survive. Mocking her very existence. Blackout was very close. It was opening the door to her life. He's killing me…and I can't fight back…
Just as her vision began to fuzz over, the pressure terminated. Slowly, objects, which had begun to blur, became sharp and defined. Her breathing ceased to be labored and she no longer felt choked. What just happened?
"If you want to argue about it, I'd go ask Dilandau. And do be respectful Hunter. He is you commander now," Folken said as sweetly as possible. Hunter turned on her heel, already recovered, and ran out the door. She was going to find Dilandau and hurt him.
When Hunter had come crashing into his room, Dilandau hadn't known what to expect. His belief was that the damn girl was out of his way for a while. She just stood there looking royally pissed off. Hunter's eyes where narrowed and she clenched something in her hand.
"What do you want?" Dilandau growled. He hadn't wanted to be disturbed, but unfortunately Hunter did not care what Dilandau did or didn't want right now.
"What…do…I…want? Should I start at the beginning my Lord, of do you just want me to start now and finish the beginning later?" Hunter spat out viciously. Beginning? …later? …Lord? She's never called me that…
"What are you talking about girl? I don't have time for this," Dilandau demanded. He was starting to get annoyed. She was acting strangely.
"You better make time, Dil, cause this is going to take awhile. Or you could just be a good little idiot and let me kick your ass," Hunter replied. Dilandau could tell she was angry, but what about? He didn't remember doing anything to piss her off, but then again, why should he care?
Her next move caught him off guard. She launched herself at him, knocking him down. He rolled some distance and a few feet away from where she landed. Dilandau's eyes never left her, but in his mind he was recalling her fighting style from the last time they had fought. They both leapt to their feet, and began to circle each other. Hunter crouched low, her fists held out in front of her. She was ready to take defensive or offensive, whatever one happened to come first. When Dilandau moved forward, Hunter aimed to kick him in the stomach, but he caught her foot. The same familiar smirk played about his lips. How easy… Instead of her tripping and falling like he expected, she brought her other leg up and kicked him in the face. Dilandau tackled her sending them both to the ground. They struggled for awhile, rolling and punching, until Hunter found herself on top. She was straddling his abdomen. Coping his smirk Hunter reached in her pocket and pulled out her switchblade. She moved it until it was parallel to his neck. It snapped open and made contact with Dilandau's neck. Hunter held it so it wouldn't slit his throat, but would be easy enough to do, if needed.
"Now we talk," Hunter said calmly.
"About what, sweetheart," Dilandau replied sarcastically. He already knew what he was going to do.
"About why you demanded that prick Folken to force my sisters and I to join the Dragonslayers," Hunter responded, sneering. However, this was another thing that caught Dilandau off guard. Dragonslayers? …demanded? Folken…
"What? Why in the Mother of Gaea would I want you to be a Dragonslayer?" Dilandau asked sneering right back.
"Because I'm better than your troops and you know it. Folken said you always get what you want. Well news flash Dil, I do to," Hunter retorted.
"The Dragonslayers are the best fighters in Gaea. And I do not want you as a Dragonslayer," Dilandau said.
"Really? Because I'm a girl? What? Are you afraid of a little girl beating up your elite slayers? Are…" Hunter stopped speaking for Dilandau's hands had found her knees, and where traveling slowly up her legs. Her eyes widened when they saw the cocky grin on Dilandau's face. Hunter's face clouded with confusion, and Dilandau read it quite clearly. What's the matter, slut? Can't you downshift that fast? True, they had been fighting only moments ago, but that wasn't the problem. Dilandau stopped moving his hands at her waist. The cocky grin on his face became even more apparent. Quickly he tightened them and flung her body over his head. Dilandau jumped to his feet with the same smug smirk resting with ease on his face. She was already standing, and Dilandau was slightly shocked to see her looking at him like he was an idiot.
"Oh come on Dil! That's the oldest trick in the book! Everyone knows that?" Hunter said, "But what I wanna know is whether of not we listen to that prick ass Folken?" Dilandau stared at her, his own face slightly clouded with confusion.
"You know, my girls and I becoming part of your elite fighting group? Hello Dil? Are you listening to me?" Hunter demanded.
"You actually believed I told Folken I wanted you as a slayer?" Dilandau said unbelievingly. Hunter narrowed her eyes. This wasn't going to be fun.
Twelve wizened men sat around a conference table. As the late Emperor Dornkirk's most trusted associates, these twelve had been chosen to choose the new king. They had been discussing the latest problem with the throne. Who would they give it to? Finally, the only thing they could come up with was casting an anonymous vote amongst them. Whichever nominee held the highest votes, he would rule Zaiboch. Though this left the fate of Zaiboch totally up to chance, it was the cheapest and quickest why to solve the problem.
So in the end, they all handed a folded piece of paper to the eldest and most respected among them.
"Jason, Erek, Jason, Kurtis, Erek, Jason, Frederick, Jason, Jason, Erek, Kurtis, and Frederick. The final tally has Jason as the winner with five votes. Long live Emperor Jason!" he said slowly, but clearly.
"Long Live King Jason," the rest echoed quietly. It was decided. Jason Deberacut was to be Zaiboch's new Emperor.