ReVisions Chapter Three Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own this twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. In this chapter, I own Tev, and no one else, I think.
Re-Visions
Chapter 3

The first thing that Van had decreed as king, when all the city folk had returned from the mountains, was that he would see every home rebuilt before work began on the castle. What little that had been done to the castle was abandoned in favor of the city proper. The wall around the town had been breached only at the gate. Sturdy timbers bound with iron stood again, the towers rebuilt. Then began the backbreaking work of clearing the rubble.

Some cynics sneered and called it a bid for loyalty. "Just wait," they said. "Before the city's half done, he'll be calling for us to work on the castle, so he can have a place to rest his downy head."

Merle heard it every day, or some variation. Each time, her tail puffed up, and she had to clench her hands into fists to keep herself from tearing out someone's eyes or tongue. She knew it wasn't to make the Fanelians loyal to him. He was truly concerned about his people. They needed their homes and businesses more than he needed a castle. He often said as much to her when she whined.

"Merle, I have a responsibility to these people." His voice was a bit stern, but his eyes pleaded with her to understand. "They are many, and they need shelter, they need security. What does one man- even if he is king- matter against that?" She could say nothing, because she knew he was right.

Immediately after Hitomi left, Van threw himself into the reconstruction with fervor. Prudently, he left the city planning to the architect on loan from Asturia and the surviving advisors, saying he had no knowledge of this sort of thing. Instead, he loaded rubble into carts, to be hauled away and dumped. He hammered boards and set shingles onto rooftops. He worked as hard as any two of his subjects, every day. He had, for a year now.

Merle watched him, her eyes sad. Today, some work crews were clearing rubble from around another section of houses and businesses, while others would start on repairing the roofs. In truth, despite the best efforts of the Dragonslayers, more had been burnt than destroyed. Most of the city of Fanelia had been made out of stone, not wood. Here and there, homes had been crushed, but only where the battle had been waged against the Zaibach assassins. The charred wreckages of the Guymelefs of the Fanelian samurai had been the first things taken away. Their bodies had been consumed in the conflagration, bones and all. Walls stood blackened all around, but they still stood, a testament to Fanelian tenacity. Van was helping a crew of men replace the roof of the house on the corner of two streets. Once that was done, they would start on the interior. In a few days, they would start another roof.

She knew what he was doing. It was obvious to her that he was trying not to think about her. About Hitomi. He slaved in the hot summer sun all day, worked himself into exhaustion every night, just so he could take his mind off her.

"Hitomi, you idiot," she muttered, watching the men walking on the newly placed roof beams. "You should have stayed. He's miserable without you." If there was any justice, she thought darkly, she'd be miserable too. Even that knowledge didn't comfort her in the face of Van's pain.

The work gang on the roof was, to a man, naked to the waist. Even Van had taken off his shirt and thrown it to the ground. After the first few days, the men he was working with had ceased to be in awe of his status, and accepted him for what he was. Now, they all treated him like a younger brother, which he seemed to enjoy. It was good for him, Merle knew. She watched a few moments more, smiling slyly. Oh, Hitomi, you don't know what you're missing!

The hard work over the months since Hitomi's departure had begun to show. Van had started to fill out, although he would never have an extremely muscular build. He'd inherited his mother's thin frame, and his strength would always be wiry. He'd started to gain his father's height- and his brother's, when she stopped to think about it. He'd already shot up at least three inches in the past four months. This was the result of the hearty meals the Fanelian goodwives provided, those who weren't washing, mending or helping to rebuild.

Speaking of those chores, Merle thought, I've got to get going. She hefted the basket she had set on the ground. It was full to the handles with laundry needing to be washed. She needed to get this to the goodwives at the river, so it could be cleaned. Then she'd carry the clean and dry laundry back to the appropriate owners. The laundry was still communal, and would be until more homes were finished. No one minded pitching in, Merle least of all, though she often whined to Van about her blistered fingers and sore feet. In truth, she was fine, but her complaints seemed to take his mind off Hitomi, at least for a little while. If it helped him at all, she was content to seem a crybaby. Resting the heavy basket against her hip, she picked her way down the littered street. She hadn't gone more than a few steps when she heard a fearful shout from behind. She turned, afraid suddenly, her eyes searching for Van.

Van was tired, and it seemed he'd been tired forever, sometimes. He forced himself to act cheerful around the men he was working with, but some days it was hard. Exhaustion did not always bring him relief. Often, he would be almost too weary to stand, yet could not fall asleep. Her green eyes haunted him, filled with tears as they had been, more than a month ago. He hadn't been able to see her since, to find out why . . . and lately, he'd been too tired to try.

He shook his head, flinging his hair out of his eyes. Come on, Fanel, he told himself firmly. There's work to be done here. He started across the crossbeams that would support the roof, to some of the lighter boards that would actually form the roof itself. He wanted to get this one finished. There's still so much to do, he thought, despair weighing him down.

Suddenly, there was a yawning pit before him, and he was falling, falling . . . He stumbled on the high beam, lost his balance and started to fall. He heard a cry from behind him- "Lord Van!"- even as he started to plunge into the cleared interior of the house. What was happening?

His first instinct was to use his wings, but they'd only get fouled on the way down, and in any case, he'd probably hit the ground before they materialized, anyway. His arms flailing, he managed to grab hold of the neighboring beam, a little lower. He had been on the topmost beam. Splinters dug into his palm from the rough-hewn wood, but that was infinitely better than breaking his head open on the stone floor below.

Within moments, the other workmen were swarming over the beams. Two men grabbed his arms and hauled him back up. The oldest man in the group, the foreman Tev, was one of them. He was a big, hearty man, who looked out of place on the roof, as if the beams wouldn't support his heavy frame. His hair and thick beard were the color of sunlight, and his eyes a piercing blue. "My lord, what happened?"

Now seated at the edge of the roof, next to the ladder, Van put a hand to his head, then winced and pulled it away as a stab of pain reminded him of the wood imbedded in his hand. "I . . . I don't know," he replied honestly, staring at his palm.

From below, Merle watched anxiously, but quietly. She couldn't hear what was going on, but she could see Van's back.

Tev frowned, and studied his king's face. He saw deep circles under the young man's eyes, the pallor of fatigue beneath the tanned skin. "I think I know, my lord." Van looked up into Tev's steady gaze, startled. "You've been throwing yourself into this everyday, and worrying about it at night, as well. It's good that you're concerned about your people, my lord, but too much worry isn't good for you. You're completely exhausted, and liable to become sick, if you don't kill yourself first." He glanced at the other workers meaningfully, then back at Van. Van nodded, dropping his eyes. "Get you down the ladder, go back to your doss, and sleep. Don't even think about coming back here until tomorrow, or, king or no, I'll blister your ears for you. Go on now," he ordered, not unkindly. Van nodded again, pulling himself to his feet.

The other men called out as Van climbed down the ladder. "Rest well, my lord!" "More careful next time, lad!" Tev was still watching as Van collected his shirt and tugged it on. "Poor lad," he said softly, shaking his head. "To have so many cares, so young." He saw Merle approach Van, and called out, "Oy! Merle! Make sure that His Majesty gets some sleep! Tie him down if you must, but he's not to do another lick of work until tomorrow!"

Merle waved at him, then turned to scamper after Van, still lugging the heavy basket.

"It's all right, Merle. You don't have to follow me," Van told her, stopping to let her catch up. He started to pull out the splinters, grimacing a bit.

Merle shook her head, pink curls bobbing. "No way. You almost fall and kill yourself, and you say it's all right? I'm worried about you." Her voice was quiet, and Van was surprised. Normally she'd be shrieking at him by now. "Lord Van, I just want to make sure you really go back and sleep, and not go to the grove." Her deep blue eyes looked at him steadily. "Or I will have to tie you up. You need sleep, Lord Van, and you won't get it by thinking about Hitomi."

Blushing, he glanced away from her. "Who said I was . . ." He cleared his throat and turned, walking up to the ravaged castle. "I was not thinking about her. I don't think about her." Unconsciously, he brought a hand up to touch the teardrop pendant, now hidden beneath his shirt, giving the lie to what he said.

Merle sighed, and trotted after him again. "Lord Van, don't be so stubborn. I know you do think about her. You're working so hard so you won't think about her, so you won't have time to hurt. But you do," she finished softly.

He stopped again, but didn't face her. Almost whispering, he asked, "Is it that obvious?"

She snorted. "Only if someone happens to look at you." When he spun around in surprise, she smiled and continued, "No, only if they know you as well as I do." There was a moment's silence before she asked, "Does she talk to you?"

He faced the ruined castle again, and hunched his shoulders. "Sometimes," he admitted. "Sometimes, I can hear her voice. Sometimes, I can even see her. She's so clear I think that if I just reach out, I can touch her . . ." He closed his eyes and took a ragged breath. "Sometimes, it's as if she can feel what I'm feeling, as if she were in my mind. When that happens, she starts to . . . channel good feelings, that's she's happy, and she wants me to be, too, as if she could tell I was sad before."

"Is that what just happened?"

He shook his head. "No. I . . . I'm really not sure what just happened. I was fine, and then, all of a sudden, it was like I was looking into the deepest, darkest hole you can imagine. I had a terrible sensation of falling. I blinked, and I really was falling. I don't know . . . but I had the sensation before I actually fell. I'm sure of it."

He felt Merle's hand on his arm. "Lord Van . . . " He looked at her from the corner of his eye. She bit her lip, as if unsure what to say. "She . . . she was connected to you, she knew what you were feeling in the last battle. If you're still connected, like you say . . . you might have somehow been caught up in one of her visions . . ."

"Why would she still have visions now? She's safe at home with her family . . ." He trudged up the roadway.

Merle shrugged. "It was only a thought." The basket was dragging at her arms. She scowled down at it, then at Van's retreating back. She dashed around him and stood in front of him, blocking his way. Van was surprised at her glare. "Lord Van, I have to take these clothes down to the washerwomen, or they won't dry, and then someone's going to be unhappy. Promise me you'll go to sleep, even if I don't go with you."

He smiled slightly, and touched Hitomi's pendant again. "All right. I promise on this that I will go get some sleep. Is that all right?"

She nodded, and picked her way back down to the city. He shook his head after her and finished the climb to the remains of the castle.

Some of the upper stories and the towers had been severely damaged in the Zaibach attack. The walls of the first floor seemed solid enough, but would probably need serious work before they could support the upper flights again. That the castle, like the rest of the city, had been made of stone, was the only reason so much of it was still standing at all.

Many of the city folk were using the castle as a refuge, especially on rainy nights. There was more shelter here than anywhere else in Fanelia. Tents were erected in the charred gardens behind the ruins as well. Van entered the cool dimness, passing bedrolls and blankets in the corridors and halls and chambers. There was no one around, even though people's possessions- what few that had survived- were in plain sight. Everyone had so little left that it was beneath the dignity of everyone to take anything. He hoped that this honesty would prevail even after the reconstruction was complete. It would certainly make my task a lot easier . . .

Van's own blankets were on the second floor, in what used to be his room, when he was still a prince. The window had been shattered by the heat of the fire, and not even kindling remained of all the furniture he'd had. No bed. No chest for clothes. No desk or chair. He sat on the edge of the windowsill for a moment, staring up at the sky. There was a room with a balcony down the corridor, but the balcony had been damaged, and it didn't look safe. The Mystic Moon and its companion could not be seen from this side of the castle now, anyway, he thought. Tonight, they'd hover just outside his window, looking like they were close enough to touch. He'd drift off to sleep, looking at them . . .

He closed his eyes, shutting out the dazzling brightness of the summer sun. His head started to throb. The headache was from fatigue, he knew, but it would probably keep him from sleeping. I promised Merle, he thought, and dutifully laid on his blankets. At least the room would soon be fully in shadow, he thought as he kicked off his boots.

The second he closed his eyes, she was there. Again, he saw her against the stars, the tears falling from her sad eyes. Why are you crying? He wanted to ask her so badly. But she faded even as he reached out to her. "Hitomi . . ." he murmured, still half awake because of his headache. Silently, he called her. Hitomi . . . He smiled, picturing her. She was walking towards him, smiling in return.

Van?

He could almost hear her voice . . . Suddenly he felt her laugh in his mind. I'm here, Van- if only for a little while. Open your eyes . . . He did as she asked, and there she was, shimmering in the sunlight. Before he could do more than gasp, she knelt down beside him, her expression serious. Are you all right? Are you sick? She studied him as he gaped at her. Hmmm, you look so tired. Let me massage your temples, to help you sleep.

At her gentle touch, he let his eyes drift shut again. Her fingers soothed away the pain in his head, and he felt himself relax. For what seemed like a long time, she stroked his forehead. Then he smiled up at her, his eyes still closed. "I'm so glad you're here, Hitomi. It's like I'm dreaming . . ."

He heard her sad reply. But you are dreaming . . .

Her words jerked him awake, and he sat up, panting. There was no indication that she had been there. Dusk had fallen- he had obviously been asleep for the entire afternoon. He drew up one knee and laid his arm over it. The Mystic Moon was just rising over the mountains as he considered his dream. I've never had a dream so real, he thought, resting his chin on his forearm. I could feel her hands on my forehead. They were cool, and she knew just where my head hurt. He studied the Mystic Moon for a moment. Hitomi- were you really here? Yes, he decided firmly. Only for a little while, but here.

His stomach rumbled, and he decided to get up and see if there was any supper left anywhere. Unlikely, as everyone was famished at the end of the day . . . He nearly put his foot into the chipped bowl beside his blankets. Someone- probably Merle- had left him some stew and a hunk of hard bread. Odd that he hadn't woken when she entered. Both were still warm, so it hadn't been too long ago. He tore into his meal. Soon enough, the bowl was empty, and he set it aside as he stood. The moons beckoned him, and he leaned against the window, as he had done earlier.

He was still tired- he knew he would be able to sleep again when he laid back down. He clasped his hand around the pink teardrop of her pendant. He was a little surprised he felt as good as he did. It had been a long time, since she left . . . He closed his eyes and thought of her, trying to thank her.

He had the sensation of flying, and looked down. It was always this way for him. He couldn't just appear in her mind, as she did to him. She said he needed to practice. He could see her. It was dark on the Mystic Moon now, but she sat in the light from the smaller orb. She was outside, sitting near a tall tree, but not hidden by its shadow. As he watched, she laid on her back in the grass, staring up at the starlit sky. He waited, then felt a tug, and knew she was thinking of him. That might be why this is so easy, he thought. He let her pull him to her. Unerringly, he landed at her side, and knelt beside her. He eyes were open, looking at him, and she was smiling.

"Van . . . you're here." Her happiness washed over him.

Hitomi, he thought. Thank you. He loaded the thought he projected to her with all the gratitude in his being, knowing that she picked up on his feelings.

Her laugh echoed quietly in the stillness. "You're welcome. It was the least I could do . . ." Abruptly, she stopped, and he could see that she was upset.

What happened? What do you mean? It was times like this, when he wanted to question her, that he wished he could speak to her the way she spoke to him . . .

"It's nothing," she said, noticing his expression. "Just a vision I had today that was strange." She hesitated, and he waited, knowing there was more, hoping she would tell him . . . Finally, it all came out in a rush of feelings. Like at the mine . . . falling . . . endless blackness . . . reached out, but you weren't there . . . thought something may have happened to you . . . so sorry . . . didn't mean for it to catch you . . . I'm sorry! He realized she was crying softly, even as she tried to stop.

He reached out to touch her hand, but couldn't make contact. Hitomi, it's all right. He imagined putting his arms around her, to comfort her. That worked better. He watched her smile again, and wipe away the tears.

"You are still tired. You should go back now. This will be even more tiring for you because you're not used to it, even though the pendant helps you focus. Go rest now, Van . . ."

She was right. He was much more tired now than when he'd awoken. Come back with me, he pleaded, then bit his lip. He knew she felt all the longing he had behind that thought. He hadn't wanted her to know . . .

She smiled sadly at him. "I'm the one who's dreaming this time . . . Go back, Van. I . . . I miss you. Stay safe for me."

He blinked and was staring at the moons again. They had moved up in the sky just a bit, and the sky was a velvety drop of midnight blue. Yawning, he shuffled back to his pallet and rolled into it, hearing her words again. I . . . I miss you . . ..

For the first time in many nights, the king slept peacefully.

On the edge of his city, however, the destructive blossom of fire grew again.