I don't own Gundam Wing or Escaflowne. These are my interpretations of their characters. I don't want to make any money. Etc........
We are approaching the final show down. The next few chapter will have a lot of stuff that might not be quite as fast paced because I have to tie up all the loose ends before the final fight. (Yes the fic is about 2/3 of the way done and we're approaching the final battle.) It'll be quite a fight though, so hang tight and I'll try to get us there ASAP. Also the ideas for the sequel are starting to come together so I may have an epilogue at the end of this story which will leave you screaming for more. You've been warned. ^_^
~Crazy Tom~
Allen Schezar sat across the table from his king as the pair discussed their current situation and the preparations that needed to be made. To his left, Lady Noin listened but Allen could tell that she was thinking about Zechs. He decided to let it slide, knowing how hard she must be feeling his absence. To be honest with himself, he was also feeling an empty space where his right hand man used to be. However, the knight refused to let it distract him. There were important things that needed his more immediate attention. Zechs knew what he was doing.
"I have written a letter to King Chid of the kingdom of Freid informing him on the situation and requesting he sent a large portion of his forces to Asturia. I have also sent a similar letter with the same petition to the allies that helped us in the Gaea war with the exception of Daedalus and Baslam. I trust you have already contacted King Van?" Dryden spoke.
Allen nodded and replied, "Yes. The Crusade should be arriving at Fanelia any day now." As he spoke, Allen felt the back of his neck tingle and he suppressed a shiver. Someone was listening in on their conversation, he was sure of it. Allen's eyes scanned the room, searching for any displacement. They were in Dryden's personal briefing room. It was handsomely furnished with banners and artwork as well as exquisitely crafted furniture. Nothing seemed out of place.
Allen looked over at Noin and to his pleasure noticed that she too was scanning the room. He hadn't made her his trusted advisory for nothing, she too must have sensed it. The knight met her eyes and they both understood. Dryden, who had noticed their distress looked questioning at his head of the military. Allen nodded at him to keep talking.
Dryden trusted his advisor and continued speaking while Allen and Noin got up slowly and began moving as if they were pacing around the room. After several minutes had passed the knight was about to give up and assume he had simply been mistaken when he noticed a shadow move. Immediately Allen understood and in one movement drew his sword and yelled, "Got you!"
The effect was as successful as he could have hoped, the creature which had been hiding in the beams of the ceiling tried to make a run for it. As he moved after it, Noin reached out a hand and managed to grab the small humanoid's wrist. As its other hand reached inside its raggedy clothes, Allen moved forward and brought the tip of his weapon underneath the spy's throat. "Drop it," he commanded.
The creature complied and the dagger which it hand been pulling out clattered to the floor. Dryden stood up now and walked over to them. "I'm impressed, Allen," he said, "you too Noin."
"Thank you, sir," Noin responded for both of them, still holding tightly on to the wrist of the spy.
"Why don't you relax and have a chat with us? After all, you've already heard us talk about our affairs this whole time. I think it's your turn to tell us about you," Allen said in a calm voice which did nothing to mask the threat in his speech.
Finally infiltrator spoke, its voice was sniveling and whiny, "Don't hurt me! I'll tell you everything."
Noin reached down with her other hand, keeping her grip painfully firm, and picked up the small dirk. Allen pulled back the sword but kept it unsheathed, ready to strike if the need came. "Why don't you start by telling us who you serve," Dryden commanded, folding his arms.
"I serve his Excellency, Lord Treize," the creature sniveled.
"Why were you spying on us?" Noin demanded. Allen glanced over at her angry face. She had been a little high strung recently. Maybe he would need to have a talk with her, as a concerned friend.
"To get information, of course," the spy was becoming more self-assured now that it hadn't been harmed. Allen began practicing some basic swordplay, swishing his blade around in some basic moves he had long since mastered. It had the desired effect, however, and the creatures swallowed and became more meek once again.
"How long have you been in the palace?" Noin asked. Allen remembered that she had helped train many of the guards that were currently in place. Of course she would take some offense that someone had gotten past her and them.
"I come and go," the creature of Baslam whimpered, "Sometimes I have to deliver messages."
This caught Allen's attention and he briefly stopped his slashes to look directly at the spy, causing it to cringe. "Messages? What sort of messages?"
"Letters containing orders from his Excellency," the humanoid explained, "Usually I have to give them to the insider."
"The insider?" Dryden asked now, walking over to look directly down at the creature.
"Yes," he or she, Allen couldn't tell, responded, "Lord Treize, in his infinite wisdom, had someone placed inside your organization shortly after the Gaea War. He knew there would be a time when Baslam and Asturia wouldn't be allies. He wanted someone close to you, Allen Schezar when that happened."
"And who is the insider?" Dryden insisted.
"Don't worry," the creature said spitefully, "I overheard Colonel Une talking about it; my last letter contained orders for him to return. He has no doubt already left."
Allen's mouth became suddenly dry. It couldn't be. Not his right hand man. His trusted friend and comrade. Yet he was sure, right then, that it had been him. There was doubt left in his mind. A strange sort of peace settled over him. "Who is the insider?" Noin persisted, angrily now. Allen looked over at her angry face. She too must have guessed.
"Lucrezia," he said, softly, reaching out a hand. She shrugged it off, become more and more infuriated.
"Who is it?" she practically yelled.
The creature cowered and snarled back, "The letters I delivered were to Zechs Merquise."
Noin gasped and stumbled backwards, as if she was fleeting from the creature's words. "No..." she murmured. Then she looked up angrily, "You're lying!"
The spy shook its head, squinting at her through beady little eyes, "No I am not. I delivered the orders to Lord Merquise. He is Treize's right hand man."
"No..." Noin shook her head. Allen walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. This time she didn't shrug him off. "No..." she protested, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks.
"Noin..." Allen said her name soothingly, trying to be the best friend he could though he knew that however much this betrayal hurt him, it would have hurt her far more. Noin's body became wracked with sobs as all the implications began to sink in. "Could it really have been that Zechs hadn't been his friend after all?" Allen wondered, "Had the whole thing really been a lie? And what of Noin and Zechs's relationship. Had that seemingly perfect romance been nothing but a clever deception? Was Zechs nothing more than a talented con-artist?" The two friends held on to each other, Allen trying to led Noin whatever strength he could.
Dryden was talking to a pair of guards which he had summoned, no doubt imprisoning the spy. However, long after the creature had been dragged off the two friends stood there, clinging to each other in their distress. "Zechs," Allen thought, "If you really are a traitor, I will have no choice but to kill you. The next time we meet it will be on the battlefield."
The sun shown through the leafy canopy of the forest. Everywhere there was evidence of life as the creatures that lived there went about their business. The cycle of life continued, each organism carrying out its role, oblivious to its part in the bigger picture. Suddenly there was a roaring sound overhead and a swift gust of wind sent the wildlife running for the nearest hiding spot. Overhead, a group of fifty Guymelefs soared onward, obvious to the chaos they had caused in the woodlands below them.
Zechs Merquise leaned forward, his heart beating quickly. Epyon was fully equipped and battle ready after months of testing. Along with Tallgeese it was the pinnacle of Baslam's Guymelef technology. Armed with a flexible metal whip, a broadsword that could be operated both one and two-handedly, and a powerful liquid metal launcher it was one of the more heavily armed Guymelefs in Baslam's forces. As for its speed... Zechs clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling the suit's hands move along with his. His personal Guymelef was capable of flight without even undergoing a transformation like the famed Escaflowne or Zaibach's, Zechs felt his lip twist in hatred involuntarily, Alseides. Yes, Epyon was a capable weapon, made all the more dangerous in a true warrior's hands.
Zechs glanced down and through the slits in the Guymelef's helmet he could see the familiar forest of his homeland. After all this time, he had finally returned. The Lightening Count opened his mask to get a better look. Though it had been many a year since he had seen the woodlands he recognized them immediately. It was surprising how quickly the memories came back. Zechs felt himself shudder as scaring visions of the past returned to him in ghastly vividness. He would finally take his vengeance though he knew if his father were alive he would have forbid it. "That is why I cannot proudly carry on your name, papa," Milliardo thought, "I will fight for you as a different person until justice has been done. Then I will search my heart for the peace which will tell me I am ready to return to our family's traditions."
One of the soldiers under his command moved his Guymelef closer and yelled to his commander, "Sir! We are approaching the Sanc Kingdom's capital city!"
The Lightening Count looked up and, sure enough, there it was ahead of them, standing separate from the surrounding countryside like a goddess among mere mortals. "Home," Zechs thought, his throat tightening.
Then Treize's right hand man was back and little Milli temporarily cast aside as the battle approached. Zechs's voice came out strong and clear, "I want you to hold back for a moment. I will draw their fire at which point you will move in. Do you understand?"
The nearest officer spoke for all of them as the orders were quickly passed to those not within earshot, "Yes, sir!"
With a snap the mask shut and Epyon shot forward, like an angel descending into hell. In front of him, Zechs could see men running around and preparing as Guymelefs already began to lurch forward, spurred into movement by their pilots. As he flew closer, a series of large projectiles were launched. His amazing wits coming into play, Zechs quickly moved Epyon out of the way and the large steel shafted arrows flew harmlessly by. As more fire opened up from all sides, Zechs allowed himself to be lost in the Guymelef's power. The suit ducked and weaved, alone in the sky except for the objects which would surely tear it apart upon impact. Soon several Alseides launched their flames, lighting the sky with dragon breath and nearly scorching the lone fighter in the air.
Sweat trickled down the Lightening Count's face, burning the area around his eyes. Epyon, the russet colored Guymelef, was like a bird of prey: plunging downward only to soar upwards at the last second, all the while twisting and spinning in the sky as though it belonged there. Its pair of flat, multilayered wings hissed steam almost angrily it seemed; like a snake preparing to strike. Finally, Zechs saw an opening and as he flew overhead of one of the suits, he swung the whip. At the same time, Zechs leaned back and fired the wings, causing the suit to slow with bone wrenching power. With a horrible snapping sound the whip wrapped around one of the Alseides's arms and yanked the limb of the suit, still shooting flames in full volley. The arm turned quickly, spraying its partner as well a dozen guards on foot and the midsection of the tower with fire. Epyon leapt forward just as the arm spun to face it and with a vicious tug, Zechs tore the arm from its owner with a spray of liquid metal which quickly caught alight. As Epyon jumped from the middle platform to the inside base of the city wall, there was an explosion as the entire Alseides ignited.
As Epyon rose off the one knee on which it had landed, a Guymelef came charging towards it, sword raised high. While the battle erupted in full force around him as his forces charged, Zechs allowed the aggression he always was able to hold in take control. With a roar of rage he raised his own blade above his head to parry. Without pausing he threw himself forward, slamming his shoulder into the other suit's chest. The stronger force and metal prevailed and the other suit's armor quickly gave way. The Zaibach Guymelef fell backwards, its chest horrible marred beyond repair.
As the battle progressed it became obvious that Zaibach was at a severe disadvantage. Though the Baslam strike force was outnumbered, the lack of planning and superior technology and abilities of the opposing side was winning through. Finally Zechs found himself at the base of Zaibach's inner palace, the place that his father had once found a peaceful sanctuary. After giving orders to his officers, telling them to prevent any enemies from escaping and to only proceed and assault the base if he hadn't returned in ten minutes. With those final commands being given, Zechs detached himself from Epyon and jumped to the ground.
Trying to ignore the flames which had begun to burn his beautiful city, Zechs burst into the door of the compound. The Lightening Count tried to ignore the emptiness in the halls that had once harbored portraits of his forefathers and their families as he searched for one man. "General Adelphos," Milliardo thought, "I know you are still alive and hiding. For you are the type of coward who will send is subordinates to fight while you hide in safety. I know you are alive because fate has chosen me to kill you."
Zechs drew his sword instinctively as he approached a part of the castle that seemed hauntingly familiar. Suddenly he felt his legs slow, as if no longer under his control. Looking to the side he saw a thick, well crafted door. "This is the entrance to my father's private sanctum, where he went to meditate and find meaning in what was happening to his kingdom," Milliardo realized.
Milli reached out a hand and paused, realizing that he had been about to knock. Even so many years later old habits seemed to stay with him. With a shove, Milliardo Peacecraft pushed open the door and stepped inside. The room seemed for the most part unchanged over the years. The bookshelves were still there, and many of his papa's thick, dusty volumes still remained. The chess set was still sat in the usual place too, and Milliardo remembered the many hours he had spent sitting in that stool playing games while his father had instructed him on the Peacecraft's traditions and beliefs. There was something very wrong with the whole scene, however.
Zechs looked up and met General Adelphos's eyes and to his surprise saw no recognition, only a deep hatred. The man had visibly aged. His hair was mostly gray and his face was more wrinkled. But the look of unfeeling cruelty and greed remained unchanged throughout the years.
"So, your forces have broken through then," the other man spoke, standing so that he could pull out his sword, "My men must all be dead." The other leader added, after a brief pause, his face twisting into a look of disgust, "They were even more contemptible then I thought."
"The only one contemptible here," Milliardo's voice was full of venomous hatred, "is you."
The Zaibach General's face contorted into a look of furry and he quickly drew his sword. Zechs continued, smiling now though he knew not why, "What is the matter, General Adelphos? Don't you remember me?"
For a moment the other man simply looked intently into his eyes, his expression that of hatred. Then a look of recognition flashed across his face, followed quickly by one of fear. "Milliardo Peacecraft?" his voice came out quivering and weak.
"That's right, my dear General," Zechs continued, "I am so glad you remember me. I must admit I am flattered, I am hardly the little boy I was when you last saw me. I am a man now, fully battle hardened and very dangerous."
For a moment, Milliardo wondered whether the General would surrender right then and there, his look of fear was so great. Then it faded and Adelphos spoke triumphantly, as if he had found a sudden trump card, "You can't hurt me, little Milli. It goes against your families beliefs."
"Don't you dare call me that," the only male heir of the Peacecraft family snapped, his tone deadly serious, "Nobody is allowed to call me that except my family. The family you took away from me. I am afraid you are horribly mistaken, General. For you see I have already accepted that I cannot be a member of the Peacecraft family, not if I intend to seek the revenge I have long sought after. No, when I kill you I will be doing it as Zechs Merquise: the Lightening Count and Duke Treize's right hand man."
Now the fear returned to Adelphos's eyes but Milliardo refused to get overconfident. This man hadn't been one of Zaibach's leaders for no reason; he was cunning and Milliardo refused to be killed, at least not until he had destroyed his family's murderer. "Enough talk!" Zechs spoke, his voice strong and powerful, "Defend yourself, Adelphos. Or do you wish to die like the miserable beast you are?"
With a roar, Milliardo Peacecraft charged. With a clang their swords collided and the battle began. It was a brief fight; Zechs was a well trained young man, at the prime of his life, and his strength was fueled with a burning hatred. Thought Adelphos's desperation gave him power, in the end it was not enough. With a finally swipe, Zechs knocked the blade out of his opponents hand, causing it to spin along the ground to the opposite end of the room. To his surprise the General began to sob. "Please don't hurt me! I am only an old man. You wouldn't kill a defenseless old man, would you? Please Milliardo Peacecraft."
Zechs frowned, for a brief second faltering. A look of hope came into his enemy's eyes. He was, after all, a member of the Peacecraft family. "Very well, Adelphos. I will spare your life, as miserable and worthless as it is. I will leave you now and I don't ever want to see you again. If I do, I will not hesitate to finish what I began here."
Milliardo turned his back and began to walk out of the room. A tiny clinking sound was all he needed to know. With a roar he spun around and lunged, stabbing Adelphos deeply in the throat. The dagger which the former General had been pulling out clattered to the floor from his lifeless hands. The body finally collapsed and Milliardo walked over to the body to yank out his weapon. "Did you really think I had learned nothing after all that time?" he asked the corpse staring down at it with merciless eyes. He wasn't sure what he had expected. A strange peace, perhaps. But there was no sensation of peace, no sweet taste of victory. Revenge tasted bitter in his mouth, leaving him with a strange emptiness. What now? He had fulfilled his purpose. Zechs looked over at the chessboard and to his surprise saw that it had been splattered with blood. A strange sense settled over him. It was a sign, perhaps a final lesson from his father.
"And that is why I cannot be ruler of the Sanc Kingdom. My hands are too stained with blood. I will see to it that Relena Peacecraft, my sister, becomes the just queen that this land deserves. I will do everything in my power to make it so. I will make sure that this," Zechs waved a hand over the scene: the corpse, the bloody chessboard and the child, forever scarred, forever broken, "never happens again. This I swear on my parents' graves. I will continue to fight for my own sense of justice."
Milliardo Peacecraft, the only male heir of the ruling family of the Sanc Kingdom, walked swiftly from the room, oblivious to the growing pool of blood on the floor of his father's study. After all, the city was aflame and there was much to do before the final showdown.
We are approaching the final show down. The next few chapter will have a lot of stuff that might not be quite as fast paced because I have to tie up all the loose ends before the final fight. (Yes the fic is about 2/3 of the way done and we're approaching the final battle.) It'll be quite a fight though, so hang tight and I'll try to get us there ASAP. Also the ideas for the sequel are starting to come together so I may have an epilogue at the end of this story which will leave you screaming for more. You've been warned. ^_^
~Crazy Tom~
Allen Schezar sat across the table from his king as the pair discussed their current situation and the preparations that needed to be made. To his left, Lady Noin listened but Allen could tell that she was thinking about Zechs. He decided to let it slide, knowing how hard she must be feeling his absence. To be honest with himself, he was also feeling an empty space where his right hand man used to be. However, the knight refused to let it distract him. There were important things that needed his more immediate attention. Zechs knew what he was doing.
"I have written a letter to King Chid of the kingdom of Freid informing him on the situation and requesting he sent a large portion of his forces to Asturia. I have also sent a similar letter with the same petition to the allies that helped us in the Gaea war with the exception of Daedalus and Baslam. I trust you have already contacted King Van?" Dryden spoke.
Allen nodded and replied, "Yes. The Crusade should be arriving at Fanelia any day now." As he spoke, Allen felt the back of his neck tingle and he suppressed a shiver. Someone was listening in on their conversation, he was sure of it. Allen's eyes scanned the room, searching for any displacement. They were in Dryden's personal briefing room. It was handsomely furnished with banners and artwork as well as exquisitely crafted furniture. Nothing seemed out of place.
Allen looked over at Noin and to his pleasure noticed that she too was scanning the room. He hadn't made her his trusted advisory for nothing, she too must have sensed it. The knight met her eyes and they both understood. Dryden, who had noticed their distress looked questioning at his head of the military. Allen nodded at him to keep talking.
Dryden trusted his advisor and continued speaking while Allen and Noin got up slowly and began moving as if they were pacing around the room. After several minutes had passed the knight was about to give up and assume he had simply been mistaken when he noticed a shadow move. Immediately Allen understood and in one movement drew his sword and yelled, "Got you!"
The effect was as successful as he could have hoped, the creature which had been hiding in the beams of the ceiling tried to make a run for it. As he moved after it, Noin reached out a hand and managed to grab the small humanoid's wrist. As its other hand reached inside its raggedy clothes, Allen moved forward and brought the tip of his weapon underneath the spy's throat. "Drop it," he commanded.
The creature complied and the dagger which it hand been pulling out clattered to the floor. Dryden stood up now and walked over to them. "I'm impressed, Allen," he said, "you too Noin."
"Thank you, sir," Noin responded for both of them, still holding tightly on to the wrist of the spy.
"Why don't you relax and have a chat with us? After all, you've already heard us talk about our affairs this whole time. I think it's your turn to tell us about you," Allen said in a calm voice which did nothing to mask the threat in his speech.
Finally infiltrator spoke, its voice was sniveling and whiny, "Don't hurt me! I'll tell you everything."
Noin reached down with her other hand, keeping her grip painfully firm, and picked up the small dirk. Allen pulled back the sword but kept it unsheathed, ready to strike if the need came. "Why don't you start by telling us who you serve," Dryden commanded, folding his arms.
"I serve his Excellency, Lord Treize," the creature sniveled.
"Why were you spying on us?" Noin demanded. Allen glanced over at her angry face. She had been a little high strung recently. Maybe he would need to have a talk with her, as a concerned friend.
"To get information, of course," the spy was becoming more self-assured now that it hadn't been harmed. Allen began practicing some basic swordplay, swishing his blade around in some basic moves he had long since mastered. It had the desired effect, however, and the creatures swallowed and became more meek once again.
"How long have you been in the palace?" Noin asked. Allen remembered that she had helped train many of the guards that were currently in place. Of course she would take some offense that someone had gotten past her and them.
"I come and go," the creature of Baslam whimpered, "Sometimes I have to deliver messages."
This caught Allen's attention and he briefly stopped his slashes to look directly at the spy, causing it to cringe. "Messages? What sort of messages?"
"Letters containing orders from his Excellency," the humanoid explained, "Usually I have to give them to the insider."
"The insider?" Dryden asked now, walking over to look directly down at the creature.
"Yes," he or she, Allen couldn't tell, responded, "Lord Treize, in his infinite wisdom, had someone placed inside your organization shortly after the Gaea War. He knew there would be a time when Baslam and Asturia wouldn't be allies. He wanted someone close to you, Allen Schezar when that happened."
"And who is the insider?" Dryden insisted.
"Don't worry," the creature said spitefully, "I overheard Colonel Une talking about it; my last letter contained orders for him to return. He has no doubt already left."
Allen's mouth became suddenly dry. It couldn't be. Not his right hand man. His trusted friend and comrade. Yet he was sure, right then, that it had been him. There was doubt left in his mind. A strange sort of peace settled over him. "Who is the insider?" Noin persisted, angrily now. Allen looked over at her angry face. She too must have guessed.
"Lucrezia," he said, softly, reaching out a hand. She shrugged it off, become more and more infuriated.
"Who is it?" she practically yelled.
The creature cowered and snarled back, "The letters I delivered were to Zechs Merquise."
Noin gasped and stumbled backwards, as if she was fleeting from the creature's words. "No..." she murmured. Then she looked up angrily, "You're lying!"
The spy shook its head, squinting at her through beady little eyes, "No I am not. I delivered the orders to Lord Merquise. He is Treize's right hand man."
"No..." Noin shook her head. Allen walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. This time she didn't shrug him off. "No..." she protested, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks.
"Noin..." Allen said her name soothingly, trying to be the best friend he could though he knew that however much this betrayal hurt him, it would have hurt her far more. Noin's body became wracked with sobs as all the implications began to sink in. "Could it really have been that Zechs hadn't been his friend after all?" Allen wondered, "Had the whole thing really been a lie? And what of Noin and Zechs's relationship. Had that seemingly perfect romance been nothing but a clever deception? Was Zechs nothing more than a talented con-artist?" The two friends held on to each other, Allen trying to led Noin whatever strength he could.
Dryden was talking to a pair of guards which he had summoned, no doubt imprisoning the spy. However, long after the creature had been dragged off the two friends stood there, clinging to each other in their distress. "Zechs," Allen thought, "If you really are a traitor, I will have no choice but to kill you. The next time we meet it will be on the battlefield."
The sun shown through the leafy canopy of the forest. Everywhere there was evidence of life as the creatures that lived there went about their business. The cycle of life continued, each organism carrying out its role, oblivious to its part in the bigger picture. Suddenly there was a roaring sound overhead and a swift gust of wind sent the wildlife running for the nearest hiding spot. Overhead, a group of fifty Guymelefs soared onward, obvious to the chaos they had caused in the woodlands below them.
Zechs Merquise leaned forward, his heart beating quickly. Epyon was fully equipped and battle ready after months of testing. Along with Tallgeese it was the pinnacle of Baslam's Guymelef technology. Armed with a flexible metal whip, a broadsword that could be operated both one and two-handedly, and a powerful liquid metal launcher it was one of the more heavily armed Guymelefs in Baslam's forces. As for its speed... Zechs clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling the suit's hands move along with his. His personal Guymelef was capable of flight without even undergoing a transformation like the famed Escaflowne or Zaibach's, Zechs felt his lip twist in hatred involuntarily, Alseides. Yes, Epyon was a capable weapon, made all the more dangerous in a true warrior's hands.
Zechs glanced down and through the slits in the Guymelef's helmet he could see the familiar forest of his homeland. After all this time, he had finally returned. The Lightening Count opened his mask to get a better look. Though it had been many a year since he had seen the woodlands he recognized them immediately. It was surprising how quickly the memories came back. Zechs felt himself shudder as scaring visions of the past returned to him in ghastly vividness. He would finally take his vengeance though he knew if his father were alive he would have forbid it. "That is why I cannot proudly carry on your name, papa," Milliardo thought, "I will fight for you as a different person until justice has been done. Then I will search my heart for the peace which will tell me I am ready to return to our family's traditions."
One of the soldiers under his command moved his Guymelef closer and yelled to his commander, "Sir! We are approaching the Sanc Kingdom's capital city!"
The Lightening Count looked up and, sure enough, there it was ahead of them, standing separate from the surrounding countryside like a goddess among mere mortals. "Home," Zechs thought, his throat tightening.
Then Treize's right hand man was back and little Milli temporarily cast aside as the battle approached. Zechs's voice came out strong and clear, "I want you to hold back for a moment. I will draw their fire at which point you will move in. Do you understand?"
The nearest officer spoke for all of them as the orders were quickly passed to those not within earshot, "Yes, sir!"
With a snap the mask shut and Epyon shot forward, like an angel descending into hell. In front of him, Zechs could see men running around and preparing as Guymelefs already began to lurch forward, spurred into movement by their pilots. As he flew closer, a series of large projectiles were launched. His amazing wits coming into play, Zechs quickly moved Epyon out of the way and the large steel shafted arrows flew harmlessly by. As more fire opened up from all sides, Zechs allowed himself to be lost in the Guymelef's power. The suit ducked and weaved, alone in the sky except for the objects which would surely tear it apart upon impact. Soon several Alseides launched their flames, lighting the sky with dragon breath and nearly scorching the lone fighter in the air.
Sweat trickled down the Lightening Count's face, burning the area around his eyes. Epyon, the russet colored Guymelef, was like a bird of prey: plunging downward only to soar upwards at the last second, all the while twisting and spinning in the sky as though it belonged there. Its pair of flat, multilayered wings hissed steam almost angrily it seemed; like a snake preparing to strike. Finally, Zechs saw an opening and as he flew overhead of one of the suits, he swung the whip. At the same time, Zechs leaned back and fired the wings, causing the suit to slow with bone wrenching power. With a horrible snapping sound the whip wrapped around one of the Alseides's arms and yanked the limb of the suit, still shooting flames in full volley. The arm turned quickly, spraying its partner as well a dozen guards on foot and the midsection of the tower with fire. Epyon leapt forward just as the arm spun to face it and with a vicious tug, Zechs tore the arm from its owner with a spray of liquid metal which quickly caught alight. As Epyon jumped from the middle platform to the inside base of the city wall, there was an explosion as the entire Alseides ignited.
As Epyon rose off the one knee on which it had landed, a Guymelef came charging towards it, sword raised high. While the battle erupted in full force around him as his forces charged, Zechs allowed the aggression he always was able to hold in take control. With a roar of rage he raised his own blade above his head to parry. Without pausing he threw himself forward, slamming his shoulder into the other suit's chest. The stronger force and metal prevailed and the other suit's armor quickly gave way. The Zaibach Guymelef fell backwards, its chest horrible marred beyond repair.
As the battle progressed it became obvious that Zaibach was at a severe disadvantage. Though the Baslam strike force was outnumbered, the lack of planning and superior technology and abilities of the opposing side was winning through. Finally Zechs found himself at the base of Zaibach's inner palace, the place that his father had once found a peaceful sanctuary. After giving orders to his officers, telling them to prevent any enemies from escaping and to only proceed and assault the base if he hadn't returned in ten minutes. With those final commands being given, Zechs detached himself from Epyon and jumped to the ground.
Trying to ignore the flames which had begun to burn his beautiful city, Zechs burst into the door of the compound. The Lightening Count tried to ignore the emptiness in the halls that had once harbored portraits of his forefathers and their families as he searched for one man. "General Adelphos," Milliardo thought, "I know you are still alive and hiding. For you are the type of coward who will send is subordinates to fight while you hide in safety. I know you are alive because fate has chosen me to kill you."
Zechs drew his sword instinctively as he approached a part of the castle that seemed hauntingly familiar. Suddenly he felt his legs slow, as if no longer under his control. Looking to the side he saw a thick, well crafted door. "This is the entrance to my father's private sanctum, where he went to meditate and find meaning in what was happening to his kingdom," Milliardo realized.
Milli reached out a hand and paused, realizing that he had been about to knock. Even so many years later old habits seemed to stay with him. With a shove, Milliardo Peacecraft pushed open the door and stepped inside. The room seemed for the most part unchanged over the years. The bookshelves were still there, and many of his papa's thick, dusty volumes still remained. The chess set was still sat in the usual place too, and Milliardo remembered the many hours he had spent sitting in that stool playing games while his father had instructed him on the Peacecraft's traditions and beliefs. There was something very wrong with the whole scene, however.
Zechs looked up and met General Adelphos's eyes and to his surprise saw no recognition, only a deep hatred. The man had visibly aged. His hair was mostly gray and his face was more wrinkled. But the look of unfeeling cruelty and greed remained unchanged throughout the years.
"So, your forces have broken through then," the other man spoke, standing so that he could pull out his sword, "My men must all be dead." The other leader added, after a brief pause, his face twisting into a look of disgust, "They were even more contemptible then I thought."
"The only one contemptible here," Milliardo's voice was full of venomous hatred, "is you."
The Zaibach General's face contorted into a look of furry and he quickly drew his sword. Zechs continued, smiling now though he knew not why, "What is the matter, General Adelphos? Don't you remember me?"
For a moment the other man simply looked intently into his eyes, his expression that of hatred. Then a look of recognition flashed across his face, followed quickly by one of fear. "Milliardo Peacecraft?" his voice came out quivering and weak.
"That's right, my dear General," Zechs continued, "I am so glad you remember me. I must admit I am flattered, I am hardly the little boy I was when you last saw me. I am a man now, fully battle hardened and very dangerous."
For a moment, Milliardo wondered whether the General would surrender right then and there, his look of fear was so great. Then it faded and Adelphos spoke triumphantly, as if he had found a sudden trump card, "You can't hurt me, little Milli. It goes against your families beliefs."
"Don't you dare call me that," the only male heir of the Peacecraft family snapped, his tone deadly serious, "Nobody is allowed to call me that except my family. The family you took away from me. I am afraid you are horribly mistaken, General. For you see I have already accepted that I cannot be a member of the Peacecraft family, not if I intend to seek the revenge I have long sought after. No, when I kill you I will be doing it as Zechs Merquise: the Lightening Count and Duke Treize's right hand man."
Now the fear returned to Adelphos's eyes but Milliardo refused to get overconfident. This man hadn't been one of Zaibach's leaders for no reason; he was cunning and Milliardo refused to be killed, at least not until he had destroyed his family's murderer. "Enough talk!" Zechs spoke, his voice strong and powerful, "Defend yourself, Adelphos. Or do you wish to die like the miserable beast you are?"
With a roar, Milliardo Peacecraft charged. With a clang their swords collided and the battle began. It was a brief fight; Zechs was a well trained young man, at the prime of his life, and his strength was fueled with a burning hatred. Thought Adelphos's desperation gave him power, in the end it was not enough. With a finally swipe, Zechs knocked the blade out of his opponents hand, causing it to spin along the ground to the opposite end of the room. To his surprise the General began to sob. "Please don't hurt me! I am only an old man. You wouldn't kill a defenseless old man, would you? Please Milliardo Peacecraft."
Zechs frowned, for a brief second faltering. A look of hope came into his enemy's eyes. He was, after all, a member of the Peacecraft family. "Very well, Adelphos. I will spare your life, as miserable and worthless as it is. I will leave you now and I don't ever want to see you again. If I do, I will not hesitate to finish what I began here."
Milliardo turned his back and began to walk out of the room. A tiny clinking sound was all he needed to know. With a roar he spun around and lunged, stabbing Adelphos deeply in the throat. The dagger which the former General had been pulling out clattered to the floor from his lifeless hands. The body finally collapsed and Milliardo walked over to the body to yank out his weapon. "Did you really think I had learned nothing after all that time?" he asked the corpse staring down at it with merciless eyes. He wasn't sure what he had expected. A strange peace, perhaps. But there was no sensation of peace, no sweet taste of victory. Revenge tasted bitter in his mouth, leaving him with a strange emptiness. What now? He had fulfilled his purpose. Zechs looked over at the chessboard and to his surprise saw that it had been splattered with blood. A strange sense settled over him. It was a sign, perhaps a final lesson from his father.
"And that is why I cannot be ruler of the Sanc Kingdom. My hands are too stained with blood. I will see to it that Relena Peacecraft, my sister, becomes the just queen that this land deserves. I will do everything in my power to make it so. I will make sure that this," Zechs waved a hand over the scene: the corpse, the bloody chessboard and the child, forever scarred, forever broken, "never happens again. This I swear on my parents' graves. I will continue to fight for my own sense of justice."
Milliardo Peacecraft, the only male heir of the ruling family of the Sanc Kingdom, walked swiftly from the room, oblivious to the growing pool of blood on the floor of his father's study. After all, the city was aflame and there was much to do before the final showdown.