I don't own Gundam Wing or Escaflowne. These are my interpretations of their characters. I don't want to make any money. Etc........
The final battle has finally begun! As always, I am eager to receive comments so please feel free to give your input. Note for any Heero lovers, yes Heero is the villain. I know it is slightly OOC but I hope I at last made him into a bad guy you love to hate. More chapters on the way and I hope to finish by the time school's out. ~Crazy Tom~
"I am begging you, Quatre," Trowa urged even as he opened Heavyarms' cockpit, "Please don't fight! You still have injuries which could get you hurt. If you go out there now you could die and I'd never forgive myself if that happened."
"But I want to help you and Van!" Quatre exclaimed walking over to his Guymelef, Sandrock.
"Quatre," Trowa said again, walking over to where the other boy was standing with a defiant look on his face, "I will ask you one more time. Please don't do this."
"No," the blonde boy shook his head, "I have to redeem myself. All this time Van has done so much for me, I have to help him the best I can. Trowa, I consider you a good friend and I respect your opinion but you are not going to change my mind about this."
At that moment Trowa felt the ground shaking beneath him. At first he thought it was some sort of earthquake but a yell from one of the towers told him otherwise. "They're attacking! The Dragon Clan has launched their assault!"
Looking back at the former emperor's determined face, Trowa made up his mind. "All right, Quatre," he spoke with finality, "Since I obviously can't change your mind... I would be proud to have you fight alongside me."
The other teenager nodded sternly. "Thank you, Trowa," he said seriously.
As he turned to walk towards his own Guymelef, Trowa called after him, "Oh, and Quatre!"
The blonde turned and immediately received a hard blow to the face. Quatre flew backwards, so stunned that he didn't even have time to yelp. With a thump he landed on the ground, a visible red spot on his cheek. "I am sorry, Quatre," Trowa apologized, quickly checking to make sure the boy was all right, "But there was no other way."
After he had dragged Quatre to Sandrock's cockpit where he would be safe and made sure the boy was out cold but not in any need of medical attention, Trowa quickly sprinted back to Heavyarms. Climbing in the cockpit, Trowa allowed his Guymelef's arms to latch on to his own. With the hissing and audible sound of many gears turning, the various parts of Heavyarms attached themselves to him, thus allowing him almost a complete range of movement to such a degree it was as if the suit had become one with him.
Standing, Trowa flexed his hand and the suit did the same. Good, everything was still functioning. Glancing at the mountain, the serious lad saw that the Dragon-Baslam troops were already a third of the way down. Around him, men were taking up a defensive line and, much like ants swarming out of a disturbed nest, the Gaea Coalition forces began to assemble in mass. Off to the side he could see Van and Allen taking their places at the head of the beast.
"At my command we charge!" he could hear Allen yell out, inspiring a cheer from all within earshot.
"Fine," Trowa thought to himself, "They can take up the charge. I will find Heero and put an end to this madness once and for all!"
As the enemy forces neared the half way point down the mountain, Allen gave a resounding cry. "Charge!"
With a roar the Coalition's troops surged forward and Trowa quickly took to flight. Below him, many thousands of Guymelefs rushed forward to meet the enemy charge. Any second now the two sides would meet and in that instant the first blood would be spilt. "By the end of the battle," Trowa thought with a shudder, "the mountain will have a torrent of blood flowing towards the ocean. By tomorrow," he predicted, "Palas's canals will run red."
Shifting his attention towards the battle ahead, Trowa scanned the oncoming forces for a sign of Wing Zero, Nataku, or Deathscythe. Wasn't there a proverb that said if you cut off the head of the beast, the body would die. Well the same applied to dragons. To his disappointment, Trowa was unable to catch sight of any of the Dragon Clan's leaders by the time to two armies clashed. From that point on it was total chaos and he realized that it would be impossible to pinpoint any single Guymelef. Just as he was about to fly back down and join the battle, three Alseides separated from the bulk of the enemy forces and soared up to meet him.
"Trowa Barton!" one of the soldiers yelled, though Trowa didn't recognize the voice, "You have betrayed your lord! Prepare to die!"
Aiming upwards with the Chleama Claw, two of the suits fired the deadly liquid metal spikes. Allowing his reflexes and focusing his energy as Heero had taught him, Trowa brought Heavyarms' large knife into play. With a loud clang and a painful grinding sound, his blade connected to the deadly objects, causing them to twist aside. As the second set of spikes flew towards him, Trowa leaned backwards and used his maneuvering jets, a new technology that had only recently been developed, to propel himself out of harm's way.
Then, with a cry of undirected rage, Trowa brought his main weapon to bear, his rapid fire arrow launcher which replaced one of Heavyarms' arms. The metal arrows were large enough to rip a Guymelef to shreds in a matter of seconds. Aiming carefully, Trowa let a full volley fly on first one, then a second Alseides. Unable to dodge the swift projectiles, the two Guymelefs were quickly torn to pieces, the pilots' cries filling the air. The final suit charged forward, sword raised above its head. With a speed which only came from experience, Trowa quickly blocked the suit's charge with his own blade. Then he let loose with his flame thrower, blasting the enemy with a stream of fire which quickly caught. Screaming wildly, the pilot lost control of his suit and the flaming wreckage tumbled to the battlefield below.
The battle had truly begun and as Trowa began his descent into hell, conflict raged all around him. Guymelef after Guymelef was cut down only to be destroyed by another. Screams of pain and fury filled the air around him. As Trowa opened fire on an enemy which was dueling with one of the Asturian Melefs, he noticed a particularly nasty looking fight going on to his left. Three Egzardia suits seemed to be fighting a single dangerous opponent. As one of the suits rushed forward, the Guymelef leapt up, actually jumping over its head even as it ran by. Landing on one knee, the Dragon Clan suit slashed out with its scythe and cut down one of the Coalition suits. As the Melef stabbed with its sword, the enemy jumped back, landing on its feet. Trowa shifted part of his attention on the duel, while still destroying a group of advancing soldiers which had chosen to get to close to him.
The two enemy suits began to circle their opponent more carefully now. Finally, one Melef worked up the courage to strike and swung its sword from the side. Deathscythe, for Trowa had long since recognized the identity of the other suit, quickly blocked with the pole part of the scythe. Then, even as the other suit moved in for the kill, it whipped around one of its hands and launched its Chleama Claws. Unable to stop moving forward, the Melef was impaled and collapsed to the ground with a crash. Trowa had seen enough. The pilot was Duo, no doubt about it, and he was unwilling to watch the one remaining soldier get slaughtered. "Duo!" he yelled, "let him go!"
The Melef backed off even as Deathscythe turned to face him. The visor popped open with a hiss and Duo's familiar face could be seen glaring at him. "Trowa!" he called out, "So it is true after all! You really have betrayed us!"
"No Duo," Trowa replied, "What you are doing is wrong. I will stop you."
"Humph!" Duo snorted, taking a step towards him with a dull crash, "I think it is you who are wrong, Trowa. I will fight for High Lord Heero even if it means I am forced to kill you! Prepare yourself, Trowa, the Shinigami is here to take you to hell!"
Trowa clenched his fists. So Duo thought he could kill him. Well he was fighting for someone too. Quatre, Van, even Hitomi; they all depended on him. He would not let them down. With a roar Trowa took aim and fired at Deathscythe which quickly took flight, flying towards him with a burst of speed that surprised even someone who was aware of its capabilities. The enemy Guymelef soared downwards, its scythe swinging down, threatening to cut him in half. Letting his reflexes take control, Trowa quickly threw himself out of the way, rolling to the side. As he came to a quick stop, Trowa found he was facing the direction he had launched from and immediately fired his Chleama Claws. But Deathscythe was already gone, landing on its feet several yards away and immediately charging forward.
Trowa's heart sped up even more as he realized that this wasn't going to be the usual easy victory. He would be fighting for his life against someone who he had once called a comrade. "Duo," Trowa snarled as he quickly got to his feet to meet the enemy attack, "I am going to do whatever is necessary to protect my allies and friends. Even if it means killing you."
Allen rushed forward, moving Scherazade swiftly up the mountain. All around him, the Coalition forces followed, Guymelef and foot soldier alike. Ahead of them, higher up and charging downward were the impressive Dragon-Baslam forces. "Charge!" Allen yelled again, bringing his sword up so that the tip faced the oncoming foes. The distance between the two sides vanished surprisingly fast and suddenly the enemy forces were upon them. With a crash, the front line on both sides collided and the screams of those who were killed upon contact filled the air.
The Scherazade twisted to the left to avoid the spear of an enemy Melef which rushed forward, unable to slow down after its run down the slope of mountainside. With a yell, Allen brought his tip into the enemy suit's side and with a crash the blade impaled the Guymelef and its pilot. As blue fire erupted around the suit, Allen yanked his sword out of the remains of the once deadly machine and ran forward to destroy another opponent. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Van and Noin also engaged in various encounters with the enemy.
As the battle progressed, Allen came to the assistance of his troops, easily cutting down the enemies who got in his way. "Gaea has once again become a battlefield," he thought as he sliced an enemy suit which still had its blade embedded in one of Freid's larger Guymelefs. All around him, the air was filled with yells and explosions.
"Sir Allen!" one of his more capable subordinates rushed up to him in a Guymelef similar to his own Sherezade, "A group of Baslam's special division is breaking through our lines! If we don't do something now they could start hitting us from behind!"
"Show me!" Allen replied quickly, following the other soldier as they circled around the thickest areas fighting and came to a halt at the top of a small ledge.
"There, Sir Allen!" the man shouted, pointing to a clump of Guymelefs which had carved their way past the front line and were destroying the last group of resisting soldiers even as they watched.
"Come with me!" Allen ordered the three men who had managed to detach themselves from the fighting to join him.
Without hesitating, Allen jumped off the ledge, trusting in the Schezerade to slide down the steep slope. With its feet, tearing at the ground and its cape billowing out behind it, the Asturian Guymelef reached the bottom relatively unharmed, upon hitting the ground, Allen had to struggle to keep the suit from stumbling forward. Behind him, his three followers succeeded in mirroring him and hit the earth with a crash.
As he dashed forward at a full paced run, Allen noticed that the flag one of the lead suits had the Baslam symbol. "So, it is Baslam's elite force that has broken through," Allen thought. One Guymelef, an unfamiliar white suit with a regal looking helmet with a red crest, detached itself from the rest and turned to face them. Allen noticed that unlike many of the other, more complicated Baslam suits, this one was armed only with a large sword. As he got closer, Allen slowed down until he stood facing the other suit which he now assumed to be the leader of the enemy force.
The Guymelef's visor opened with a hiss and Allen recognized Baslam's Duke, Lord Treize. "Allen Schezar," the man addressed him, "It is a pleasure to finally be able to meet you in person. In case you did not already realize, I am Treize Khushrenada, the leader of Baslam."
Allen could feel his blood boiling. So this was the man Zechs had chosen to ally himself with. Treize had a noble face which had a determined but earnest expression on it. Other than that, he seemed to be a normal man, and Allen wondered again why his friend had forsaken him and his beloved for a single individual. "I know who you are," he informed the Duke. Allen remembered the sorrow his good friend Lady Noin had experienced as a result of this man's actions and took a deep breath. Then, he raised his weapon, "If you know anything about the Knights of Caeli, Lord Treize," he spoke calmly though inside he felt his anger stirring, "you know that we do not draw our weapons unless we intend to fight till the end." Allen raised his weapon and pointed the tip at the enemy suit, "I, Allen Schezar of Asturia, challenge you!"
To his surprise, the other man smiled slightly and replied, "Zechs always spoke very highly of you. He told me that you were not to be taken lightly. We shall see if you are worthy of that claim." Treize lifted his own weapon and took a step forward until their blades were only a foot apart, "I, Treize Khushrenada of Baslam, accept your challenge!"
For a moment, neither person moved, each accessing the other individual and their Guymelef. Then, Allen raised his sword high and attacked. With a clang, Treize brought his weapon up to parry. Quickly, he pushed Allen's blade back and took several steps forward to slash from the side. The Asturian blocked by twisting his blade vertically and continued to block the next several blows. After a series of attacks of his own, all neatly parried by Baslam's Duke, he took several steps back. "He is no amateur," Allen thought, shifting his footing into a more secure position, "Treize is a veteran, probably one of Gaea's most noteworthy fighters. I will have to be do my absolute best to defeat him."
"I think I have had enough warm-up," Treize called out to him, "We both know that the other is holding back. Why don't we disperse with this act and duel for real now."
"That is fine by me, sir!" Allen replied, more impressed than he'd have liked to admit with the other's evaluation and speech. With a yell he rushed forward and the battle began anew. Around him, the other spectators from both sides also entered the fray. Allen couldn't help but be reminded when the sides against Zaibach had turned upon one another after Baslam's cruel weapon which had destroyed many lives from both sides. "I will avenge the lives that Baslam's impetuosity have claimed!" he thought as he and Treize fought for their honor and their lives.
"Damnit!" Van thought as he raised his weapon to block the swipe which threatened to cleave Escaflowne and himself. The blades connected with a crash and grunting under the effort, Van shoved his opponent backwards, quickly ramming his blade into the other Guymelef's stomach before it could recover. Remembering Folken's words, Van momentarily wondered whether this fight was necessary but was soon forced to abandon his thoughts of morals. Over his head, fiery arrows cut down a group of Coalition forces which had been running forward on foot.
Van gritted his teeth and ran forward to the top of the ledge from which the shots had come. Escaflowne's feet thundered along the ground and Van raised his sword so that the tip was positioned forward, ready to stab at any moment. A group of Dragon Clan soldiers were clustered around an unusual looking tank similar to that of the Flame Tank used in the Gaea war. As he moved forward, the artillery raised its weapon and fired again, flaming shards of metal flying into the air.
"Bastards!" Van yelled, swinging his sword in a low arch which caught the entire group. With an explosion which caused him to twist his head away, the battalion of enemies were destroyed. With a flash of insight Van suddenly became aware of a pair of Alseides flying towards him. His suddenly flickers of intuition were something he had developed with Hitomi's help during the Gaea War. By imagining Hitomi's magical pendant, Van was able to detect the unseen and occasionally got brief premonitions of his own, though they were by no means as powerful as Hitomi's visions.
With a loud war cry, Van spun around to face the stealthy suits just as they launched their Chleama Claws. Snarling, the King of Fanelia slammed his sword into the oncoming metal prongs. With a shower of sparks, the channels of liquid metal arched off on either side of Escaflowne. "I won't let you get away with this!" Van yelled, running forward and leaping high into the air; sword raised above his head. His heart was pumping pure adrenaline through his veins and his eyes burned with sweat that had trickled into them. "I will protect my allies!" Van yelled as he came down on one of the suits, slicing it in half. As the fiery blue liquid exploded out of the doomed suit, Van hit the ground hard, landing on one knee.
Spinning round to face its opponent, Escaflowne moved again to attack the other suit. This time, however, the Dragon Clan pilot had time to prepare and quickly raised one hand. As the arm came up, the liquid metal around the Guymelef's fist twisted into a single spike. With a clang, Escaflowne's sword connected with the other weapon. His muscles aching, Van continued to put all his strength into his blade, slowly pushing down until to other suit actually tumbled over backwards. With a roar, Van shifted his footing and slashed at the other suit. The pilot was obviously no amateur and had time to raise his arm to prevent most of the force behind the blow. As blue fluid spurted everywhere, Van cut through the Alseides' arm and embedded the blade into the outer level of armor.
The King of Fanelia raised his weapon high and prepared to finish off the enemy when he heard his brother's voice in his mind, "You must remember that your enemy is the same as you; fighting for what he or she believes to be right. If you do not, then you are no better than your foe."
Van closed his eyes and slammed his blade down with all his strength. When he opened them, he saw that his sword had slammed into the Guymelef's other arm and had completely destroyed it. "There," Van thought, "Now it is no longer a threat to anyone."
The King of Fanelia straightened, pulling his blade from where it was deeply embedded in the mountain's surface. As Escaflowne turned to continue the battle for peace, Van saw a single Guymelef standing isolated from the fighting at the top of a small, level projection in the rock. As Van looked closer to try and identify the suit's unfamiliar design, he realized that the Guymelef wasn't moving; it was watching him!
As he stared in surprise at the strange Guymelef, it moved forward and jumped off the ledge to land several meters away from him. The suit was startlingly fast, Van realized as he noted the large distance it had covered in handful of seconds time. As he raised his sword, unsure whether to address the unknown element, the pilot called out to him. His voice was cold and hard, "Why didn't you finish him?"
"What?" Van replied in confusion, unsure of how to answer such an abrupt and unexpected question.
"I said," the voice called back, sounding unmistakably cruel now, "Why didn't you finish him? Victory was yours. You had but to strike a fatal blow and your mission would be complete. However, you chose to destroy a non-vital component instead. Why?"
Van found himself stuttering a reply, unsure of why he felt compelled to answer, "Because his death was unnecessary. He was already defeated, there was no reason to take his life."
As the king finished speaking, his opponent's mask opened and he could see the face of his enemy. To his surprise, the speaker was a young man who looked to be his own age. However, the face was far different. Though his expression was dispassionate, Van sensed the other boy's cruelty in his eyes. Those cold, ruthless eyes. They contained no kindness or love of life. Instead they conveyed only an intense determination with no room for compassion for the weak or helpless.
"I see," the cruel teenager replied. Then, to Van's surprise, the boy's mouth curled up in a smile. It was a twisted sneer, looking unnatural after such long periods of dormancy. "I think you are lying," the stranger informed him triumphantly, "The real reason you spared him was because you knew that the dishonor of losing a fair match and living was far worse than death. Instead of granting him an noble, you chose to doom him to a life of shame. You are so cruel, Van Fanel."
As Van stiffened, frozen in shock and disbelief. Could it be? Was that the reason he had spared the honorable soldier, so that he could live the rest of his life in humiliation? But, that hadn't been his motive at the time. He had only wanted to prevent as much bloodshed as possible. Could it be that his actions, which he thought to be virtuous at the time, were in fact callous and cold-hearted?
As Van watched, immobilized by the other youth's declaration, the other Guymelef raised its hand. As he realized what was happening, the King of Fanelia was seized with panic but before he could do anything the suit's Chleama Claws were launched. To his surprise, the deadly liquid metal spikes flew right past Escaflowne. As he turned, Van saw the spared Guymelef, still lying helplessly on its back. The claws sailed forward and impaled the chest of suit, moving past the armor as if it were nothing but soggy paper, and into the interior where the pilot lay helpless. Van winced as he heard the other man's dying scream and clenched his fists. No, he had been right to spare the soldier's life. It was wrong to kill so casually, as if death were but a tool.
As he felt his anger stirring, Van heard a sound which seemed so out of place he almost didn't recognize it. Why, that boy was laughing! There was no mistaking the source of the cruel sound. He could see the pilot's face, grinning fiendishly and almost glowing with unholy light. Who was this person that would laugh at another man's cruel demise? Van was filled with rage and he yelled out, "Stop it!"
To his further fury this only made the other teenager laugh harder and Van felt his blood boiling. "Stop it!" he yelled again, "STOP IT!" At his final cry, the boy stopped his sniggering abruptly and looked at Van with an judging look on his face. "Who are you?" Van demanded, raising the tip of his sword higher.
"My name is Heero Yuy and I am High Lord of the Dragon Clan. I am the last of the pure-bred Draconians, selected by fate to rule all of Gaea. You may not know me, Van Fanel, but I know you. Yes, I know all about you and your disgraceful family."
"My family," Van repeated, his eyes widening.
"Yes," Heero sneered, "Or more specifically your mother's side. Before I was born, my father was searching all of the Mystic Moon and Gaea for members of our race which had survived the Atlantis disaster. On his search he found a young woman named Vari. She was also a member of the Draconian race. My father invited her to join his cause. However, she foolishly refused saying that she loved mankind too much to turn against it. She told him that she was destined to fall in love with a mortal man when the Mystic Moon shines over the mountains of the west. It was foolish really, she gave up the chance of a lifetime to join a race destined to rule in favor of a dying one which despised our kind and childhood prophecy. To punish her for her foolishness and to set an example, my father banished her and used his sorcery powers to cast a spell on her. She was cursed to live out her life in an abandoned swamp until a man fell in love with her on sight. It seems, however, that her prophecy proved accurate after all. However," Heero finished, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, "My father will receive the last laugh when I kill you. Van Fanel, you have stolen the loyalty of two of my people and gone against the will of your king. I will show you no mercy. Prepare yourself!"
Van felt his anger stirring as he stared into Heero's bloodthirsty eyes . This single person that stood before him was responsible for all the deaths created by the foolish war going on around them. He was dangerous and probably more than a little bit deranged. He needed to be stopped. "It ends here, Heero!" Van yelled back, "I, Van Fanel, will stop you!"
As Van took a combative stance, he assessed the other Guymelef. Heero's Guymelef was primarily white with a blue and red chest. Its head contained a crown-like crest with two large gold spikes sticking out on either side. As he watched, the back of suit bulged. "What?" the King of Fanelia exhaled, his eyes widening as a pair of large white wings unfolded out of the shoulders of the Guymelef. The wings were just like his own, or that of any other member of their race.
"Behold, Van Fanel!" Heero proclaimed, smiling savagely, "The power that the purity of Draconian blood contains. I am King of the Dragons, destined ruler of all Gaea! None can stand before me! Wing Zero, lend me your strength so that I might destroy those that oppose us!"
As Van watched, the suit seemed to fill his vision. Then, drawing its sword and lowering the visor, Wing Zero took to flight. As Van tensed, bracing himself for combat, he wondered whether he would be able to fulfill he promise to Hitomi. "Hitomi," Van thought, "let me be as strong as you always are so I can return to your side." With that final thought, Van took a deep breath and let out a war cry as he charged forward to meet his foe. The battle between the King of the Dragon Clan and the King of the Land of the Dragons had begun.
The final battle has finally begun! As always, I am eager to receive comments so please feel free to give your input. Note for any Heero lovers, yes Heero is the villain. I know it is slightly OOC but I hope I at last made him into a bad guy you love to hate. More chapters on the way and I hope to finish by the time school's out. ~Crazy Tom~
"I am begging you, Quatre," Trowa urged even as he opened Heavyarms' cockpit, "Please don't fight! You still have injuries which could get you hurt. If you go out there now you could die and I'd never forgive myself if that happened."
"But I want to help you and Van!" Quatre exclaimed walking over to his Guymelef, Sandrock.
"Quatre," Trowa said again, walking over to where the other boy was standing with a defiant look on his face, "I will ask you one more time. Please don't do this."
"No," the blonde boy shook his head, "I have to redeem myself. All this time Van has done so much for me, I have to help him the best I can. Trowa, I consider you a good friend and I respect your opinion but you are not going to change my mind about this."
At that moment Trowa felt the ground shaking beneath him. At first he thought it was some sort of earthquake but a yell from one of the towers told him otherwise. "They're attacking! The Dragon Clan has launched their assault!"
Looking back at the former emperor's determined face, Trowa made up his mind. "All right, Quatre," he spoke with finality, "Since I obviously can't change your mind... I would be proud to have you fight alongside me."
The other teenager nodded sternly. "Thank you, Trowa," he said seriously.
As he turned to walk towards his own Guymelef, Trowa called after him, "Oh, and Quatre!"
The blonde turned and immediately received a hard blow to the face. Quatre flew backwards, so stunned that he didn't even have time to yelp. With a thump he landed on the ground, a visible red spot on his cheek. "I am sorry, Quatre," Trowa apologized, quickly checking to make sure the boy was all right, "But there was no other way."
After he had dragged Quatre to Sandrock's cockpit where he would be safe and made sure the boy was out cold but not in any need of medical attention, Trowa quickly sprinted back to Heavyarms. Climbing in the cockpit, Trowa allowed his Guymelef's arms to latch on to his own. With the hissing and audible sound of many gears turning, the various parts of Heavyarms attached themselves to him, thus allowing him almost a complete range of movement to such a degree it was as if the suit had become one with him.
Standing, Trowa flexed his hand and the suit did the same. Good, everything was still functioning. Glancing at the mountain, the serious lad saw that the Dragon-Baslam troops were already a third of the way down. Around him, men were taking up a defensive line and, much like ants swarming out of a disturbed nest, the Gaea Coalition forces began to assemble in mass. Off to the side he could see Van and Allen taking their places at the head of the beast.
"At my command we charge!" he could hear Allen yell out, inspiring a cheer from all within earshot.
"Fine," Trowa thought to himself, "They can take up the charge. I will find Heero and put an end to this madness once and for all!"
As the enemy forces neared the half way point down the mountain, Allen gave a resounding cry. "Charge!"
With a roar the Coalition's troops surged forward and Trowa quickly took to flight. Below him, many thousands of Guymelefs rushed forward to meet the enemy charge. Any second now the two sides would meet and in that instant the first blood would be spilt. "By the end of the battle," Trowa thought with a shudder, "the mountain will have a torrent of blood flowing towards the ocean. By tomorrow," he predicted, "Palas's canals will run red."
Shifting his attention towards the battle ahead, Trowa scanned the oncoming forces for a sign of Wing Zero, Nataku, or Deathscythe. Wasn't there a proverb that said if you cut off the head of the beast, the body would die. Well the same applied to dragons. To his disappointment, Trowa was unable to catch sight of any of the Dragon Clan's leaders by the time to two armies clashed. From that point on it was total chaos and he realized that it would be impossible to pinpoint any single Guymelef. Just as he was about to fly back down and join the battle, three Alseides separated from the bulk of the enemy forces and soared up to meet him.
"Trowa Barton!" one of the soldiers yelled, though Trowa didn't recognize the voice, "You have betrayed your lord! Prepare to die!"
Aiming upwards with the Chleama Claw, two of the suits fired the deadly liquid metal spikes. Allowing his reflexes and focusing his energy as Heero had taught him, Trowa brought Heavyarms' large knife into play. With a loud clang and a painful grinding sound, his blade connected to the deadly objects, causing them to twist aside. As the second set of spikes flew towards him, Trowa leaned backwards and used his maneuvering jets, a new technology that had only recently been developed, to propel himself out of harm's way.
Then, with a cry of undirected rage, Trowa brought his main weapon to bear, his rapid fire arrow launcher which replaced one of Heavyarms' arms. The metal arrows were large enough to rip a Guymelef to shreds in a matter of seconds. Aiming carefully, Trowa let a full volley fly on first one, then a second Alseides. Unable to dodge the swift projectiles, the two Guymelefs were quickly torn to pieces, the pilots' cries filling the air. The final suit charged forward, sword raised above its head. With a speed which only came from experience, Trowa quickly blocked the suit's charge with his own blade. Then he let loose with his flame thrower, blasting the enemy with a stream of fire which quickly caught. Screaming wildly, the pilot lost control of his suit and the flaming wreckage tumbled to the battlefield below.
The battle had truly begun and as Trowa began his descent into hell, conflict raged all around him. Guymelef after Guymelef was cut down only to be destroyed by another. Screams of pain and fury filled the air around him. As Trowa opened fire on an enemy which was dueling with one of the Asturian Melefs, he noticed a particularly nasty looking fight going on to his left. Three Egzardia suits seemed to be fighting a single dangerous opponent. As one of the suits rushed forward, the Guymelef leapt up, actually jumping over its head even as it ran by. Landing on one knee, the Dragon Clan suit slashed out with its scythe and cut down one of the Coalition suits. As the Melef stabbed with its sword, the enemy jumped back, landing on its feet. Trowa shifted part of his attention on the duel, while still destroying a group of advancing soldiers which had chosen to get to close to him.
The two enemy suits began to circle their opponent more carefully now. Finally, one Melef worked up the courage to strike and swung its sword from the side. Deathscythe, for Trowa had long since recognized the identity of the other suit, quickly blocked with the pole part of the scythe. Then, even as the other suit moved in for the kill, it whipped around one of its hands and launched its Chleama Claws. Unable to stop moving forward, the Melef was impaled and collapsed to the ground with a crash. Trowa had seen enough. The pilot was Duo, no doubt about it, and he was unwilling to watch the one remaining soldier get slaughtered. "Duo!" he yelled, "let him go!"
The Melef backed off even as Deathscythe turned to face him. The visor popped open with a hiss and Duo's familiar face could be seen glaring at him. "Trowa!" he called out, "So it is true after all! You really have betrayed us!"
"No Duo," Trowa replied, "What you are doing is wrong. I will stop you."
"Humph!" Duo snorted, taking a step towards him with a dull crash, "I think it is you who are wrong, Trowa. I will fight for High Lord Heero even if it means I am forced to kill you! Prepare yourself, Trowa, the Shinigami is here to take you to hell!"
Trowa clenched his fists. So Duo thought he could kill him. Well he was fighting for someone too. Quatre, Van, even Hitomi; they all depended on him. He would not let them down. With a roar Trowa took aim and fired at Deathscythe which quickly took flight, flying towards him with a burst of speed that surprised even someone who was aware of its capabilities. The enemy Guymelef soared downwards, its scythe swinging down, threatening to cut him in half. Letting his reflexes take control, Trowa quickly threw himself out of the way, rolling to the side. As he came to a quick stop, Trowa found he was facing the direction he had launched from and immediately fired his Chleama Claws. But Deathscythe was already gone, landing on its feet several yards away and immediately charging forward.
Trowa's heart sped up even more as he realized that this wasn't going to be the usual easy victory. He would be fighting for his life against someone who he had once called a comrade. "Duo," Trowa snarled as he quickly got to his feet to meet the enemy attack, "I am going to do whatever is necessary to protect my allies and friends. Even if it means killing you."
Allen rushed forward, moving Scherazade swiftly up the mountain. All around him, the Coalition forces followed, Guymelef and foot soldier alike. Ahead of them, higher up and charging downward were the impressive Dragon-Baslam forces. "Charge!" Allen yelled again, bringing his sword up so that the tip faced the oncoming foes. The distance between the two sides vanished surprisingly fast and suddenly the enemy forces were upon them. With a crash, the front line on both sides collided and the screams of those who were killed upon contact filled the air.
The Scherazade twisted to the left to avoid the spear of an enemy Melef which rushed forward, unable to slow down after its run down the slope of mountainside. With a yell, Allen brought his tip into the enemy suit's side and with a crash the blade impaled the Guymelef and its pilot. As blue fire erupted around the suit, Allen yanked his sword out of the remains of the once deadly machine and ran forward to destroy another opponent. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Van and Noin also engaged in various encounters with the enemy.
As the battle progressed, Allen came to the assistance of his troops, easily cutting down the enemies who got in his way. "Gaea has once again become a battlefield," he thought as he sliced an enemy suit which still had its blade embedded in one of Freid's larger Guymelefs. All around him, the air was filled with yells and explosions.
"Sir Allen!" one of his more capable subordinates rushed up to him in a Guymelef similar to his own Sherezade, "A group of Baslam's special division is breaking through our lines! If we don't do something now they could start hitting us from behind!"
"Show me!" Allen replied quickly, following the other soldier as they circled around the thickest areas fighting and came to a halt at the top of a small ledge.
"There, Sir Allen!" the man shouted, pointing to a clump of Guymelefs which had carved their way past the front line and were destroying the last group of resisting soldiers even as they watched.
"Come with me!" Allen ordered the three men who had managed to detach themselves from the fighting to join him.
Without hesitating, Allen jumped off the ledge, trusting in the Schezerade to slide down the steep slope. With its feet, tearing at the ground and its cape billowing out behind it, the Asturian Guymelef reached the bottom relatively unharmed, upon hitting the ground, Allen had to struggle to keep the suit from stumbling forward. Behind him, his three followers succeeded in mirroring him and hit the earth with a crash.
As he dashed forward at a full paced run, Allen noticed that the flag one of the lead suits had the Baslam symbol. "So, it is Baslam's elite force that has broken through," Allen thought. One Guymelef, an unfamiliar white suit with a regal looking helmet with a red crest, detached itself from the rest and turned to face them. Allen noticed that unlike many of the other, more complicated Baslam suits, this one was armed only with a large sword. As he got closer, Allen slowed down until he stood facing the other suit which he now assumed to be the leader of the enemy force.
The Guymelef's visor opened with a hiss and Allen recognized Baslam's Duke, Lord Treize. "Allen Schezar," the man addressed him, "It is a pleasure to finally be able to meet you in person. In case you did not already realize, I am Treize Khushrenada, the leader of Baslam."
Allen could feel his blood boiling. So this was the man Zechs had chosen to ally himself with. Treize had a noble face which had a determined but earnest expression on it. Other than that, he seemed to be a normal man, and Allen wondered again why his friend had forsaken him and his beloved for a single individual. "I know who you are," he informed the Duke. Allen remembered the sorrow his good friend Lady Noin had experienced as a result of this man's actions and took a deep breath. Then, he raised his weapon, "If you know anything about the Knights of Caeli, Lord Treize," he spoke calmly though inside he felt his anger stirring, "you know that we do not draw our weapons unless we intend to fight till the end." Allen raised his weapon and pointed the tip at the enemy suit, "I, Allen Schezar of Asturia, challenge you!"
To his surprise, the other man smiled slightly and replied, "Zechs always spoke very highly of you. He told me that you were not to be taken lightly. We shall see if you are worthy of that claim." Treize lifted his own weapon and took a step forward until their blades were only a foot apart, "I, Treize Khushrenada of Baslam, accept your challenge!"
For a moment, neither person moved, each accessing the other individual and their Guymelef. Then, Allen raised his sword high and attacked. With a clang, Treize brought his weapon up to parry. Quickly, he pushed Allen's blade back and took several steps forward to slash from the side. The Asturian blocked by twisting his blade vertically and continued to block the next several blows. After a series of attacks of his own, all neatly parried by Baslam's Duke, he took several steps back. "He is no amateur," Allen thought, shifting his footing into a more secure position, "Treize is a veteran, probably one of Gaea's most noteworthy fighters. I will have to be do my absolute best to defeat him."
"I think I have had enough warm-up," Treize called out to him, "We both know that the other is holding back. Why don't we disperse with this act and duel for real now."
"That is fine by me, sir!" Allen replied, more impressed than he'd have liked to admit with the other's evaluation and speech. With a yell he rushed forward and the battle began anew. Around him, the other spectators from both sides also entered the fray. Allen couldn't help but be reminded when the sides against Zaibach had turned upon one another after Baslam's cruel weapon which had destroyed many lives from both sides. "I will avenge the lives that Baslam's impetuosity have claimed!" he thought as he and Treize fought for their honor and their lives.
"Damnit!" Van thought as he raised his weapon to block the swipe which threatened to cleave Escaflowne and himself. The blades connected with a crash and grunting under the effort, Van shoved his opponent backwards, quickly ramming his blade into the other Guymelef's stomach before it could recover. Remembering Folken's words, Van momentarily wondered whether this fight was necessary but was soon forced to abandon his thoughts of morals. Over his head, fiery arrows cut down a group of Coalition forces which had been running forward on foot.
Van gritted his teeth and ran forward to the top of the ledge from which the shots had come. Escaflowne's feet thundered along the ground and Van raised his sword so that the tip was positioned forward, ready to stab at any moment. A group of Dragon Clan soldiers were clustered around an unusual looking tank similar to that of the Flame Tank used in the Gaea war. As he moved forward, the artillery raised its weapon and fired again, flaming shards of metal flying into the air.
"Bastards!" Van yelled, swinging his sword in a low arch which caught the entire group. With an explosion which caused him to twist his head away, the battalion of enemies were destroyed. With a flash of insight Van suddenly became aware of a pair of Alseides flying towards him. His suddenly flickers of intuition were something he had developed with Hitomi's help during the Gaea War. By imagining Hitomi's magical pendant, Van was able to detect the unseen and occasionally got brief premonitions of his own, though they were by no means as powerful as Hitomi's visions.
With a loud war cry, Van spun around to face the stealthy suits just as they launched their Chleama Claws. Snarling, the King of Fanelia slammed his sword into the oncoming metal prongs. With a shower of sparks, the channels of liquid metal arched off on either side of Escaflowne. "I won't let you get away with this!" Van yelled, running forward and leaping high into the air; sword raised above his head. His heart was pumping pure adrenaline through his veins and his eyes burned with sweat that had trickled into them. "I will protect my allies!" Van yelled as he came down on one of the suits, slicing it in half. As the fiery blue liquid exploded out of the doomed suit, Van hit the ground hard, landing on one knee.
Spinning round to face its opponent, Escaflowne moved again to attack the other suit. This time, however, the Dragon Clan pilot had time to prepare and quickly raised one hand. As the arm came up, the liquid metal around the Guymelef's fist twisted into a single spike. With a clang, Escaflowne's sword connected with the other weapon. His muscles aching, Van continued to put all his strength into his blade, slowly pushing down until to other suit actually tumbled over backwards. With a roar, Van shifted his footing and slashed at the other suit. The pilot was obviously no amateur and had time to raise his arm to prevent most of the force behind the blow. As blue fluid spurted everywhere, Van cut through the Alseides' arm and embedded the blade into the outer level of armor.
The King of Fanelia raised his weapon high and prepared to finish off the enemy when he heard his brother's voice in his mind, "You must remember that your enemy is the same as you; fighting for what he or she believes to be right. If you do not, then you are no better than your foe."
Van closed his eyes and slammed his blade down with all his strength. When he opened them, he saw that his sword had slammed into the Guymelef's other arm and had completely destroyed it. "There," Van thought, "Now it is no longer a threat to anyone."
The King of Fanelia straightened, pulling his blade from where it was deeply embedded in the mountain's surface. As Escaflowne turned to continue the battle for peace, Van saw a single Guymelef standing isolated from the fighting at the top of a small, level projection in the rock. As Van looked closer to try and identify the suit's unfamiliar design, he realized that the Guymelef wasn't moving; it was watching him!
As he stared in surprise at the strange Guymelef, it moved forward and jumped off the ledge to land several meters away from him. The suit was startlingly fast, Van realized as he noted the large distance it had covered in handful of seconds time. As he raised his sword, unsure whether to address the unknown element, the pilot called out to him. His voice was cold and hard, "Why didn't you finish him?"
"What?" Van replied in confusion, unsure of how to answer such an abrupt and unexpected question.
"I said," the voice called back, sounding unmistakably cruel now, "Why didn't you finish him? Victory was yours. You had but to strike a fatal blow and your mission would be complete. However, you chose to destroy a non-vital component instead. Why?"
Van found himself stuttering a reply, unsure of why he felt compelled to answer, "Because his death was unnecessary. He was already defeated, there was no reason to take his life."
As the king finished speaking, his opponent's mask opened and he could see the face of his enemy. To his surprise, the speaker was a young man who looked to be his own age. However, the face was far different. Though his expression was dispassionate, Van sensed the other boy's cruelty in his eyes. Those cold, ruthless eyes. They contained no kindness or love of life. Instead they conveyed only an intense determination with no room for compassion for the weak or helpless.
"I see," the cruel teenager replied. Then, to Van's surprise, the boy's mouth curled up in a smile. It was a twisted sneer, looking unnatural after such long periods of dormancy. "I think you are lying," the stranger informed him triumphantly, "The real reason you spared him was because you knew that the dishonor of losing a fair match and living was far worse than death. Instead of granting him an noble, you chose to doom him to a life of shame. You are so cruel, Van Fanel."
As Van stiffened, frozen in shock and disbelief. Could it be? Was that the reason he had spared the honorable soldier, so that he could live the rest of his life in humiliation? But, that hadn't been his motive at the time. He had only wanted to prevent as much bloodshed as possible. Could it be that his actions, which he thought to be virtuous at the time, were in fact callous and cold-hearted?
As Van watched, immobilized by the other youth's declaration, the other Guymelef raised its hand. As he realized what was happening, the King of Fanelia was seized with panic but before he could do anything the suit's Chleama Claws were launched. To his surprise, the deadly liquid metal spikes flew right past Escaflowne. As he turned, Van saw the spared Guymelef, still lying helplessly on its back. The claws sailed forward and impaled the chest of suit, moving past the armor as if it were nothing but soggy paper, and into the interior where the pilot lay helpless. Van winced as he heard the other man's dying scream and clenched his fists. No, he had been right to spare the soldier's life. It was wrong to kill so casually, as if death were but a tool.
As he felt his anger stirring, Van heard a sound which seemed so out of place he almost didn't recognize it. Why, that boy was laughing! There was no mistaking the source of the cruel sound. He could see the pilot's face, grinning fiendishly and almost glowing with unholy light. Who was this person that would laugh at another man's cruel demise? Van was filled with rage and he yelled out, "Stop it!"
To his further fury this only made the other teenager laugh harder and Van felt his blood boiling. "Stop it!" he yelled again, "STOP IT!" At his final cry, the boy stopped his sniggering abruptly and looked at Van with an judging look on his face. "Who are you?" Van demanded, raising the tip of his sword higher.
"My name is Heero Yuy and I am High Lord of the Dragon Clan. I am the last of the pure-bred Draconians, selected by fate to rule all of Gaea. You may not know me, Van Fanel, but I know you. Yes, I know all about you and your disgraceful family."
"My family," Van repeated, his eyes widening.
"Yes," Heero sneered, "Or more specifically your mother's side. Before I was born, my father was searching all of the Mystic Moon and Gaea for members of our race which had survived the Atlantis disaster. On his search he found a young woman named Vari. She was also a member of the Draconian race. My father invited her to join his cause. However, she foolishly refused saying that she loved mankind too much to turn against it. She told him that she was destined to fall in love with a mortal man when the Mystic Moon shines over the mountains of the west. It was foolish really, she gave up the chance of a lifetime to join a race destined to rule in favor of a dying one which despised our kind and childhood prophecy. To punish her for her foolishness and to set an example, my father banished her and used his sorcery powers to cast a spell on her. She was cursed to live out her life in an abandoned swamp until a man fell in love with her on sight. It seems, however, that her prophecy proved accurate after all. However," Heero finished, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, "My father will receive the last laugh when I kill you. Van Fanel, you have stolen the loyalty of two of my people and gone against the will of your king. I will show you no mercy. Prepare yourself!"
Van felt his anger stirring as he stared into Heero's bloodthirsty eyes . This single person that stood before him was responsible for all the deaths created by the foolish war going on around them. He was dangerous and probably more than a little bit deranged. He needed to be stopped. "It ends here, Heero!" Van yelled back, "I, Van Fanel, will stop you!"
As Van took a combative stance, he assessed the other Guymelef. Heero's Guymelef was primarily white with a blue and red chest. Its head contained a crown-like crest with two large gold spikes sticking out on either side. As he watched, the back of suit bulged. "What?" the King of Fanelia exhaled, his eyes widening as a pair of large white wings unfolded out of the shoulders of the Guymelef. The wings were just like his own, or that of any other member of their race.
"Behold, Van Fanel!" Heero proclaimed, smiling savagely, "The power that the purity of Draconian blood contains. I am King of the Dragons, destined ruler of all Gaea! None can stand before me! Wing Zero, lend me your strength so that I might destroy those that oppose us!"
As Van watched, the suit seemed to fill his vision. Then, drawing its sword and lowering the visor, Wing Zero took to flight. As Van tensed, bracing himself for combat, he wondered whether he would be able to fulfill he promise to Hitomi. "Hitomi," Van thought, "let me be as strong as you always are so I can return to your side." With that final thought, Van took a deep breath and let out a war cry as he charged forward to meet his foe. The battle between the King of the Dragon Clan and the King of the Land of the Dragons had begun.