Part I
Disclaimer: I do not own GW, nor do I own its characters and events. It's all property of Sunrise, TV Asashi, Sotsu Agency, and Bandai... (*sob* not fair, I tell ya! not fair!!) Oh yeah, and the song herein used is titled "Pilgrim" and sung by Enya. (obviously, it doesn't belong to me either)
Milliardo ducked into a flower bed, still invisible to the mobile suits overhead.
The noise was deafening.
Why are they attacking us?! What have we done to them?! His crystal-blue eyes were on the verge of tears. Mother, Father! Where are they?!
He realized he was under a window.
He could see into the music room, where Queen Katerina had been playing one of her favourite concertos...
The room was barely recognizable. The walls were no longer warm and inviting- they were now singed and tattered by gunfire and explosions. One of the walls had given way and lay crumbled in the centre.
The rubble covered the piano. It lay broken in two, the insides shattered by the marble. Never again to play its beautiful music...
And his mother was still there.
Milliardo stared at her. He knew tears should fall, but nothing came.
"Mother? Mother, you can't be--" His soprano voice cracked.
The child stared at that lifeless body, one pale hand still on the piano's keys. Her corpse was also broken by the marble, like the piano. And just like the piano she would never again utter a single word, never again would sing goodnight to him.
Mother?! WHY?! Why are they doing this?!
Her dark blue eyes were still open, frozen in an expression of shock. But they no longer held the warmth that had watched over Milliardo and his sister. Now those blue orbs were dead.
Mother... no... no.. Mother!!
Milliardo looked away. Away from her torn, bloodied face.
He ran over to a door, the one that led to the library beside the music room. He opened it and slipped behind a desk. Milliardo creeped along the wall to the front of the room.
Footsteps. From the hallway.
Where's Father?!
He took cover behind a chair.
And Relena?! I was supposed to take care of her!
"The place never had a chance."
Milliardo gasped. A soldier! Was it the enemy?
"No weapons, no defences. Don't know why we didn't do it sooner." He and his partner laughed, a mocking, demeaning laugh.
"General O'Neigal's gonna enjoy putting a gun to the stubborn old man," said the other soldier. "I hear he's holding him in his own conference room. Guess he was in a meeting with some pacifist Italian aristocrats."
They laughed again. "Those good-for-nothin' pacifists..."
Father... Maybe I can help him... Maybe I...
Milliardo waited for them to leave and enter a room, then ran as quickly as he could to the conference room, at the end of the hallway.
He slipped behind a sided table, the white tablecloth providing shelter from enemy eyes. No one could see him, but he could see everything.
The long table in the centre was still intact. But the guests around it were frozen, a bullet run through every one of them. Dead. Like... Mother....
The man who must have been the general glowered triumphantly, an Alliance soldier at each side.
And in front of him, conquered yet defiant, was King Peacecraft III. Two Alliance soldiers stood guard behind him.
"So, old man, King Peacecraft," the general sneered, pulling on his father's long platinum beard. "You see, pacifism leads to nothing. War... is the only way."
The Alliance general fished out his gun. Aimed it at King Peacecraft.
No...
"I'm afraid, Your Majesty, that your time has come to an end."
"No!"
Milliardo jumped out and pounced on the general. The bullet hit the wall.
"Milliardo! Get out of here!" the king yelled, his soft blue eyes frantic.
"Get the kid off of me!" the general shouted to his men. "And shoot Peacecraft! NOW!"
BLAM, BLAM!
A soldier lowered his gun. "Mission accomplished, General."
Milliardo gasped. Father, no! NO!
The soldiers let go, and King Peacecraft slumped down to the floor. One bullet hole stained his flowing beard, blood running down and turning it a dark crimson red. The other penetrated his forehead, carving a scarlet--rimmed tunnel... The thick liquid slowly cascaded down, joining the rest of the gruesome stream.
King Adrian Peacecraft, ruler of Sanc, was dead. Now he would never achieve his dream of total pacifism. He was dead. Murdered in cold blood by the United Earth Sphere Alliance.
Father?! How could Father be...
Gone.
Forever.
FATHER!!
"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo-!!!"
The general put his hand to Milliardo's mouth, silencing him. The long shrill scream nearly deafened the soldiers in the room.
But its dirty work was done. It had succeeded in ripping Milliardo's six- year-old soul in two. In freezing the innocent feelings of a six-year- old child, leaving behind a harsh shell in their place.
Milliardo squirmed until he broke free from the soldier's grasp. He dashed out of that bloodstained room as fast as he could, trying not to look back.
"Catch the little Peacecraft brat!! Kill him!!"
But Milliardo had the advantage. He knew every shortcut in this huge palace. It was his home after all.
He found one of the passages he and his sister used to play in. The palace was littered with them. The rushing footsteps of Alliance soldiers faded as he crawled deeper into the small tunnel, away from the flames and the chaos.
He could still hear the sound of that gun. It had all happened so fast...
And I did nothing! Father's gone, and I couldn't even stop it.
The tears still wouldn't come.
"It's my fault." He crawled deeper into the labyrinth between the palace walls. "It's my fault."
It's not your fault, came a whisper from within his mind. They killed Mother. They shot Father. It's their fault! Theirs!
It was easier to believe the voice than his own words.
"They killed my family. They destroyed my home. It was them."
Left, right, through the dark tunnels. His hands and knees stinging as they struck the cement.
Then all the sorrow, all the guilt and hatred that a six-year-old child wasn't supposed to feel took over him, enwrapped him.
"I will avenge you, Father. And I will free Sanc, whatever it takes. I promise you."
Pilgrim, how you journey
On the road you chose
To find out why the winds die
And where the stories go
Milliardo walked through New Port City. The Alliance forces were gone, leaving a wave of destruction in their wake. They'd not only attacked the Sanc Kingdom Palace, but also the surrounding area. They'd scarred parts of the capital city, enough to create destruction but not enough to destroy...
Homes were burned, families huddled together in the cold Northern European air. No one seemed to notice this lone boy in ragged clothes.
So much destruction, so much loss.
But they still have each other. Milliardo's gaze followed a small child as she ran into her parents' open arms. Her mother comforted her tears, her father sheltered her from the chilling wind.
Relena! Did... Did Mr. Darlain get her to safety in time?
The young prince finally reached his destination, well away from the destruction, exhausted but determined.
He rang the bell on Senator Darlain's front door.
The maid answered. "How may I help you?" She looked to the sides and then downward.
"Oh!"
She gaped at a young boy with blond hair singed at the ends, his hands and clothes stained with dirt and blood.
"May I see Mr. Darlain?" he asked.
"Who is it?" came the Senator's voice from inside.
"It's a child. He says he wants to see you, sir."
"A chi--!" Darlain came to the door immediately.
"Milliardo!" He sighed in relief and let him in. "Milliardo! My dear prince, you're alive! I've been so worried, wondering whether you escaped out of that palace. Are you all right?"
"Relena," Milliardo choked out. "What about Relena? I need to see her."
Darlain couldn't help giving a sad smile. The young prince cared more about his sister than about himself. "Yes, Relena's fine. She's sleeping now, safe and-"
"I need to see her."
Darlain understood. He led Milliardo to his child's room, and stopped at the doorway. "Careful."
Milliardo walked silently towards the bed. In it was a small child. On the floor was what might have been a sleeping bag. He crouched beside it.
Relena lay there. Her innocent face smiled as she slept.
What do you see, Relena, when you dream?
"Milliardo." Darlain whispered, motioning for him to come back.
"Goodnight, Relena."
He stood up and joined Darlain. They descended to the living room, both solemnly silent.
"Milliardo..." Darlain began.
"Mr. Darlain, you have to help me. I have to avenge Father... We have to attack the Alliance and claim back Sanc!"
"I... can't, Milliardo. I-I-I'm sorry. I'm a pacifist, and so is everyone else in Ad- your kingdom."
"But we can't just surrender to them!"
"There's nothing we can do."
"But I--"
"Milliardo. I would do anything for my king, your father, but I cannot go against my principles. Or his. I sincerely wish I could help. I'm sorry, my prince..." He hid his face in his hands. "The Sanc Kingdom has fallen."
"No..." Milliardo fell to his knees. "Please, Mr. Darlain... please..."
Darlain couldn't stand to see his prince acting this way. "Milliardo. Please don't." He gently lifted Milliardo by the arm, then crouched down to meet him face to face.
He had to get him to listen, to make him understand the danger he and his sister were in.
Darlain looked into eyes so similar to his king's, yet so different; these eyes were conquered by sadness.
"Milliardo, you do understand that these people will do anything to destroy you and Relena, don't you? As Peacecrafts you will be hunted down and murdered, just like--"
He slowed down. "I know how much Relena means to you, and..." He put a hand on Milliardo's shoulder. "You must understand that you pose a great threat to your sister. You look too much like your father. They would recognize you instantly."
I'm... a threat to Relena?
"You... You are endangering your sister's life, and my family's, by just being here. You must understand this, Milliardo. I have to protect my family and your sister. If they find you here..."
But, Darlain, what about me? Can't you protect me, too?
Relena's sleeping face flashed across Milliardo's mind. Relena... She's my baby sister, I can't endanger her... I can't lose her like I lost...
Darlain felt like the worst man in the world, turning his back on his king's son. "Milliardo, you can't stay here. It's too dangerous."
His crystalline eyes met the older man's hazel gaze.
Darlain's right. I'm a danger to Relena.
Milliardo nodded. "I understand."
"I'm... so sorry, my prince."
Darlain stood up. "I know of a family in Germany that might be able to take you in, permanently. They were friends of your family, though not exactly pacifists. I will call them tomorrow, and have you on their way as soon as possible."
"Where will I stay until then?"
"A few people from the palace escaped, Pagan being one of them." Darlain explained. "I believe he is staying with relatives in a small village not far from here. You can stay with him until everything is worked out with Duke Khushrenada and we can get you out of Sanc safely."
Milliardo stood straight. "May I say goodbye to Relena?"
Darlain nodded, fighting the urge to turn away in shame.
Milliardo went back to where Relena slept peacefully.
"I wish I could stay with you..."
But what kind of brother would I be if she lost her life only because I wanted to be with her?
He brushed away a strand of brown hair from her forehead.
"Relena. If we meet again, you won't even know who I am, will you?"
Milliardo stood up.
It's for your protection. Darlain will give you a safe home.
"Goodbye, my dear little sister, goodbye."
All days come from one day
That much you must know,
You cannot change what's over
But only where you go
Milliardo and Pagan entered the large mansion on the Khushrenadas' estate.
They were welcomed by the butler. "Master Khushrenada will be here shortly," he said, leading them to the living room.
Duke Khushrenada and his Duchess arrived. He shook Pagan's hand, then offered it to Milliardo.
"We are glad to be of help, Prince Milliardo." Khushrenada said.
Milliardo hesitated, but took the Duke's outstretched hand. Then he bowed, elegant manners having been instilled in him from the earliest age.
The Duchess smiled. "Our son Treize must take lessons from you, Prince Milliardo."
She had meant to put a smile on his face. It didn't work, of course.
Pagan cleared his throat. "Duke Khushrenada, Duchess, my job is done. We now leave Master Milliardo in your hands."
He let go of the young boy. "Please guard him well, sir."
"Certainly."
Pagan bowed. "May we meet again, Master Milliardo," he said, and left.
You're on your own now, Milliardo. Among strangers...
"Milliardo, would you like to meet our son?" Khushrenada asked.
The boy looked up at him, but said nothing.
The Duchess went out to the hallway. "Treize, would you come down here please?"
"He is watching little Dorothy Catalonia for a while. One of the maids will take over," the Duchess explained, returning to them. "I expect her Lady Catalonia should arrive soon."
Then a boy with short reddish-brown hair came into the room. He hadn't seen their guest yet. "Yes, mother and father?" he asked of them. "What is it?"
"Treize, you must learn to be more observant." Duke Khushrenada scolded. "Milliardo Peacecraft is here."
Treize turned to face the young boy. "Oh. Hello," he said, a bit disappointed. "You're only a little kid."
"Treize!" his mother chided.
The preteen made a face. "I thought you'd be older, like me," he said to Milliardo. "So, you're a prince?" He hung his head to the side, studying him. "You look like one. I'm not sure I remember you, though... Tell me, why are you here? I heard your home got attacked and everyone died. Your parents got killed too, is that right?"
Milliardo bowed slightly. "It is a pleasure meeting you too, Treize."
He turned to the Duke and Duchess. "May I be excused to my quarters now, sir?"
Khushrenada gave his son a stern look. He had managed their guest irresponsibly. "Milliardo, do you fence?"
Milliardo remembered his last fencing match, with Pagan, just a day before the attack. He hadn't wanted it to end, and had handed Pagan another foil after he'd broken the first one and defeated him. He had felt almost... complete-
"Yes."
"Well, then! Treize is somewhat of a champion. Perhaps you could try your hand at a match with him."
"Yeah!" Treize agreed. "I challenge you, Prince Milliardo of the Sanc Kingdom, to a duel. Do you accept?"
Milliardo bore his ice-blue eyes into Treize. "I accept."
Khushrenada led them to the large hall. Treize showed Milliardo to the fencing equipment and the two boys changed into white suits and screened masks.
Treize and Milliardo faced off while Duke Khushrenada watched.
"En guarde!" Treize called.
His form was graceful, yet assertive. He lunged and drove his foil towards Milliardo.
CLASH! Metal against metal.
Khushrenada looked at his son's younger opponent. He was at a definite height disadvantage, but his form was swift and quick, aggressive.
Milliardo's riposte came too fast for Treize to counter and hit its target.
Khushrenada observed silently as the duel continued.
Milliardo showed such a strong determination to win, even with the age advantage Treize held against him.
Khushrenada nodded in approval.
"He will make an excellent soldier, with the proper training," he realized. "Yes, Treize will need someone loyal to support him if he is to take on the leadership of OZ after General Catalonia."
Treize tried for another touch. It hit its mark. "For... how long... have you had fencing lessons?"
"2 years," the prince said quickly, parrying Treize's riposte.
"You're... very good." He countered Milliardo's foil. "For an amateur."
Milliardo lunged swiftly and his foil marked his opponent.
"Why are you... so quiet?" Treize asked, between gasps and lunges.
"Father... always said." CLASH! "that it isn't good form... to speak while one fences."
Khushrenada kept his eyes on the two young boys. He smiled as Treize finally managed to throw Milliardo's foil off his hand.
Yes. His plans for his son would be followed. "Milliardo will be that someone."
One way leads to diamonds,
One way leads to gold,
It had been over two weeks since Milliardo had left Sanc. Treize had somehow managed to get through to Milliardo and the two had become friends.
However, Treize had been sent back to a prestigious academy to continue his military training, and the small crack that he had made in the young prince's shell became smooth once again.
Milliardo sat alone in the Khushrenadas' library. He'd made it a goal to read every book in the house.
He turned the page. What else is there to do?
His tutoring wouldn't start until next week. He had to be tutored, of course, because he couldn't just go to school and let everybody see him. Waving around the Peacecraft name like a white flag of surrender.
But how will I avenge Father? I can't do it alone!
As if on cue, Khushrenada appeared at the doorway. "Milliardo?"
The young boy put his book down and went up to him. "Yes, Mr. Khushrenada?"
The Duke started for his study and motioned for the young Peacecraft to follow. He took a seat at his desk-- Milliardo stood before him.
"As you are aware, Milliardo," Khushrenada began, "Treize is currently enrolled at Lake Victoria." He spread out his hands on the desk. "I have decided that it would be... beneficial for you to also attend this academy."
Milliardo didn't expect this. "Mr. Khushrenada?"
"You will train to be an elite soldier. Once you are old enough, of course."
"But my Peace--"
This is it, the voice ordered. This is the way to your revenge.
"If..." he hesitated. "If I do this, will I have access to the Alliance?"
Khushrenada's eyebrows shot up. Ah yes, an angle. Revenge? "Of course, of course," he assured Milliardo. "Certainly."
If I must become a soldier of war to avenge Father...
Khushrenada stood, taking the young prince's silence as an acceptance, and clasped his hands.
"Well, Milliardo," he said, a rueful grin on his face, "You will be attending Lake Victoria Academy in a few years... You can't very well go as a Peacecraft, now can you, my boy?"
Another leads you only
To everything you're told
AN: Yes, yes, yes, it's not done. I know, I know. Bad me, I haven't even finished the first part... but oh well, it'll come later and I felt like I just HAD to post something or I would die.. ^.^
