Discovery

Discovery

One chilly morning in early spring I sat on the carcass of a fallen forest giant eating a forgettable breakfast and staring absentmindedly at the run-down, isolated hovel that had been my home for fourteen years and three hundred sixty four days. It was my fifteenth birthday and, I had long been promised, the day I would discover the truth about myself.

               I was quite preoccupied that morning, and understandably so. Still, I will never quite forgive myself for noticing nothing until my arms were pinned behind me and my mouth covered by unseen hands. A scrap of linen seeped in an unidentifiable sleep-inducing chemical was forced under my nose, and I knew no more.

***

               When I came to I found myself in a large, dingy room I'd never seen in my life. For all its size, it was crowded. All of the room's occupants seemed about my age. There were both boys and girls. Judging by looks and by the many dialects I heard, they were from every corner of Gaea.

               I was dizzy, nauseous, shaky, and my head ached like hell. I allowed a tiny moan to escape me. Even I could barely hear it amid all the noise, but across the room a tall girl leapt to her feet. As she strode toward me I saw that she was a "cat person." I had heard that there had once been many but a plague ordinary humans were immune to had nearly wiped them out and that they were now nearly extinct.

               "Awake, are you? Take it easy for a bit. That's nasty stuff, and you were given quite the dose. Once you feel a bit better I'll show you around. Don't worry. Nothing's happened yet."

               This seemed overly optimistic to me, as we were obviously prisoners, but it was clear that the girl was a generally cheerful person. She spoke quickly, and barely gave me time to think on this before she plowed on again.

               "I'm Dyln. Close enough, I suppose, and what with my looks and possible birthday they've got reasons to go after me. Who're you?"

               "Dilanda," I answered, and would have asked what the hell she was talking about had she not started jabbering again.

               "Almost a direct duplicate, and you look awfully like! What day were you born?"

               Wondering what this had to do with anything, I answered, "The second day of the red moon. I'm fifteen today."

               "You've been out a good four days, dearie," Dyln replied, but she sounded less perky and more thoughtful. "Who was your father?"

               I was thoroughly annoyed at this point. "I haven't the foggiest, and if you have a point, make it!"

               "Where have you been living? Don't you know why we're all here?" I was about to lose my temper when I realized this was an expression of disbelief at my ignorance and not another of her seemingly inane questions.

               "I don't have a clue," I admitted, feeling my exasperation ebb away. I was used to being assumed to be "in the know" and finding myself completely perplexed when I went to the nearest village for supplies. It was one of the more unpleasant side effects of living twenty-four seven with only your dog and mother for company, and Dyln certainly wasn't to blame.

               "Oh, dear. It's difficult to explain. Have you at least heard of Lord Dilandau?" she asked kindly.

               "Who hasn't?" Even I couldn't have escaped this knowledge. Every man, woman, and child in Gaea had heard of the "Crazed Commander," as the poor man was now known. During the great wars the psychotic Lord Dilandau had dedicated himself to the destruction of Lord Van, the famous pilot of Escaflowne. He wreaked death and havoc indiscriminately while chasing this goal, and had gained immortal infamy. This much was like any other war story, and didn't interest me much. What I found disturbing was that he had later stumbled onto the discovery of his true identity. Before horrific sorcery, genetic experiments, and, one assumed, a thorough brainwashing, he had been the younger sister of a famous knight named Allen, who fought for the other side.

               "How about Hitomee?" Dyln asked.

               "Wasn't she a friend of Lord Van's?" I was less sure about this. My mother had mentioned the girl more than once, but she didn't seem particularly interesting to either of us.

               "A powerfully psychic friend of Lord Van's, who is now his wife," Dyln corrected. "After the war ended and everybody went off to live happily ever after, her gift up and vanished on her. Heaven knows why. Before she lost her second sight completely, she made a prophesy. I think she said it felt realer than anything she'd ever come up with before, but instead of a vision, as her predictions usually were, it was in words. I think it went like this, but let me live if I'm wrong.

When the second day of the red moon falls

Gaea answers oblivion's call.

When peace has reigned for fifteen years

Gaea's heart sheds only tears.

When Dilandau's heir takes up the sword

Gaea then shall be no more."

               "So they're rounding up anyone who might fit the prophesy!" I said triumphantly, relieved to know my situation.

               "Right," Dyln answered. "Someone decided that his heir was his child, and they were probably right. They're looking for anyone with a similar name, though I don't know why that would necessarily be. They want anyone who looks a bit like him; you'll notice that most of us have the same color hair, like me, the same eyes, or whatever. You're a mirror image, by the way. One assumes that they'd be at least fifteen. Somebody thought to look out for anyone without a father. Most important is the day, though. Practically everyone in Gaea who was born the same day you were, or, for those of us who aren't quite sure of birthdays, somewhere around there, is here."

               "I didn't know Dilandau had a child," I said, trying to remember having heard anything along those lines.

               "Well, there was nothing stopping him," Dyln pointed out. "If it was me, I wouldn't tell anyone. He was a little maniacal, but not stupid. I'm sure he must have realized that, whether it was because of the scandal or the implications that he had a soft side, having his fatherhood widely known might well jeopardize the respect of the troops he had to command. The bottom line is, he'd have kept quiet and there's no way anyone could know which Gaean out of millions is his." 

"So it could be me," I said haltingly, trying to picture myself as the destroyer of Gaea.

               "It could be a lot of people, so don't bust a brain cell. You aren't the only one here who falls under all four headings. I'm going to pop outside. When the meal is served I'll grab you a bit. Rest while you can."

               "You can get out?" I asked, surprised.

               "Sure, I'll show you how when you're stronger," Dyln replied. "There's a little hole in the wall a skinnyish teenager can just fit through. It only leads out into a little courtyard, or I'd be long gone. It's nice to get a little fresh air, is all." She strolled off.

               I was wondering if I really did look so much like Dilandau, and pulled a mirror out of my pocket. I kept the thing not for cosmetic purposes, but because I got bored a lot at home. When you're really desperate, you can be easily amused by something as simple and pathetic as making a reflected beam of light move around.

               I summoned up a memory of a picture my mother had (it had never occurred to me to ask why she owned the thing) of Lord Dilandau and then examined my own face. Our eyes were the same shape and color, and held almost the same expression. His thin, devilish smirk was identical to the one I often wore myself. Though my hair was straight, like my mother's, and much longer, it was exactly the same silvery-blond. We shared a ridiculously light build though I was extremely short. It was certainly a striking resemblance, but I was perfectly ready to dismiss it as coincidence. If I'd really been the daughter of a notoriously deranged pyromaniac, it stood to reason, I'd hardly be a pensive and generally docile individual.

               Telling myself that I was satisfied with this admittedly weak and desperate explanation, I was ready to take Dyln's advice and use the time to rest. I managed to grab myself a corner and curled up. When I closed my eyes, however, I couldn't banish the picture of Dilandau from my mind. It was beginning to go from a menace to an annoyance as a result of familiarity when I remembered.

               I must have been little more than a newborn. The male version of my own face looked down at me. He was sobbing silently and rocked back and forth as he spoke. "My Dilanda. My poor, sweet little one. My only consolation is that you may never know your father's shame." His voice rang clearly in my ears and I could almost feel his strong arms pressing me to his chest.

               My eyes shot open. So I was Dilandau's daughter and heir, as well as the reason so many were imprisoned. If Hitomee was right, I would be the destruction of Gaea. Looking back, I'm glad I was unarmed, because in that one horrible moment of revelation I'm sure I would have suicided.

               Finally I settled down. When I thought about it, the memory had raised more questions than it had answered. Specifically, how could I remember something from when I was only weeks old, and what exactly had been going on? The second question was considerably more interesting. It was possible that Dilandau was only responding to unexpected fatherhood, but I had a feeling that this wasn't it. It seemed most likely that something had happened during the war. Recalling the utter despair in his voice, his horribly pained expression, and, worst of all, his tears, I decided that he was fighting some terrible inner battle.

               Again, my answer only resulted in more questions. What the hell had happened to reduce Dilandau who, in my memory, seemed somehow noble, composed, and kind even through his despair, to the "Crazed Commander" everyone spoke of in hushed voices even now?

               I dozed off as I thought on this.  The next thing I remember is Dyln shaking me roughly awake. "Dilanda! Wake up and eat!"

               I sat up and accepted the slice of bread she handed me. My mind was clearer, and I asked her about something that had occurred to me as I slept. "How come you fall under suspicion if you're a cat?"

               She laughed. "You're really unenlightened, aren't you? If a 'cat person,' as we're usually called, crossbreeds with a normal human, you can't tell that the child is half-breed. They look either completely human or like any other cat person. I don't remember either of my parents, but I almost definitely have some human in me or I'd have died with everyone else during the plague. My birthday is somewhere around the second, and I look a very little like his lordship, so I fall under suspicion. Possibly even more so because of who I am. Dilandau's side employed some cat girls he would have known quite well. They're supposed to have had the hots for Lord Fulkan, one of Dilandau's superiors, but you never know."

               "Makes sense, though you make it sound like breeding prize dogs," I said. As I licked a few stray crumbs from my fingers and examined her. While Dyln's hair was certainly the right color, she didn't really look the slightest bit like Lord Dilandau. Her deep green eyes were quiet and her smile open. She was lean, sinuous, and muscular as opposed to twiggy. She was also a stunning, curvaceous beauty, which my plain, skinny little self and I tried to ignore.

               Dyln chattered on and I gave her enough of my attention to make vaguely plausible answers when required, but my mind was elsewhere. What, precisely, would happen when my paternal ancestry was discovered? I was a phenomenally bad liar, but even if my frail falsehoods convinced anyone the simplest of DNA tests would prove that I was Dilandau's heir.  Besides, they probably wouldn't be needed. If in the unlikely chance that my appearance left any doubt, it would be destroyed by an arousal of my temper. I was a basically gentle, quiet creature, but if I got mad enough I could put anyone who'd seen him on the battlefield in mind of Lord Dilandau.

               Later, Dyln put my worries temporarily to rest by telling me that nothing had happened to any of the prisoners yet. Still, thoughts of execution by decapitation haunted my thoughts and, after Dyln's blathering lulled me to sleep, my dreams.