Note - This might be a semi-confusing Chapter...it's a slight delve into a certain person's psyche. No worries, though...it'll all make sense in the end. Just not necessarily this end.

Tenkuu no Ryuugekitai - Arashi no Mae no Shizukesa

'You're back!' Gatti looked up to see Shanti come bounding towards him, his long braid bouncing along behind him like a flame following a moving torch. Closely after him followed Shesta, with such an expression on his face Gatti thought it wasn't the fact that he returned alive that relieved him.
Shanti pounced joyfully, and for a split-second Gatti was afraid she would kiss him right in front of Guimel and Shesta. Instead, the red-head wrapped his arms around the other's waist and nestled his head into the nook in Gatti's chest. Shesta and Guimel glanced in their direction, each cocking a brow and tilted their head in that certain way-
Is there something you're not telling us, Gatti dear?
Gatti could just see the questions forming in their minds and cleared his throat. The Highlander promptly let go, though the idiot-grin of love/joy stayed permanently plastered to his beautiful, ivory face.
'Did you run into any trouble?' he asked nonchalantly; (If anyone touched you they are dead.)

'Not really,' Gatti shrugged, and shared a glance with Guimel, who threatened to tell all by barely concealing a talkative maniacal smile. Shesta, who had been staring at Gatti like he was a savior of sorts, suddenly sprang to life.

'Oh, did you find Dante?' he queried innocently. Guimel's eyes clouded, the pain still evident deep inside them. The hurt look caught Shesta's attention, and he was about to ask if he had said something wrong when he got his reply.

'Yes...' Gatti hesitated. How does one explain to the elite of the elite their comrade lies dying? It had always never occurred to any of them that a Dragon Slayer could ever be that seriously wounded. 'He's injured, but he's alive. He and Mikyla are evacuating the city. We're to meet them in a nearby village when the fighting dies down,' Shesta nodded his head- 'Ah...'-, and side-glanced Guimel, feeling guilty he had brought up such ill news.

'He'll be okay, though, right? I mean...it's Dante. He'll be fine. Right?' Shesta's baby blue eyes looked so innocent with all that hope stored in them. When he got that look, no one wanted to have to tell him what he didn't want to hear and see the radiance crushed.
'Right...?' In the silence that ensued, Gatti had to think quickly. No answer was the wrong answer.

'Everyone?' Dalet stood a few feet away, as if he was afraid to approach them. His tone was more timid than haughty, and with the bruises on his normally handsome face, he had the aura of a beaten dog. Gatti mused as to why Dalet would torture himself like this...
'Master Dilandau wants us to assemble. I believe he's giving orders.' The Dragon Slayers muttered their thanks, and all started for the door. Dalet let them pass, and followed dejectedly behind.

'Has he been like this since then?' Gatti whispered to Shanti, who had taken to walking very close beside him.

'He blames himself for everything. I wouldn't be surprised if he blames himself because the sun doesn't shine every day,'

'Ah.' Gatti purposely slowed down and let Dalet catch up to him. They were close to the throne room, so he talked quickly. 'I need to talk to you afterwards about something important. It's really, really important, so don't skulk off somewhere to feel sorry for yourself,' Dalet's eyes filled with questions, but before he could protest, or say anything at all, they had already entered the room. Each took their designated place in line, (Shanti automatically standing beside Gatti) and all eyes went to the front.

Dilandau slouched in the stone chair, his head resting casually on his fist. The garnet slits regarded each of them carefully, and coming to rest on Shanti, narrowed even further. The Highlander cocked his head to one side and gave his usual, cheeky smile. Dilandau's lip curled as he made a face in reply. Gatti noted, quite jealously, that underneath the snarl was a hidden smile only a trained eye could identify. He seemed in a good mood.

'Folken said that the Dragon would appear in the city. Since the rest of that pathetic country is almost completely destroyed, he has nowhere else to go.' Dilandau had a sort of drawl when he spoke of impending battles; a lazy, arrogant sound that advertised his self-assurance. He had faith in his boys; they wouldn't let him down. The Dragon Slayers had never lost a battle, and there was no reason they would start now, especially against some backwater little country.
Gatti let his mind wander. He wondered what Shanti would think of the ring...he thought about the fox-man that had so kindly given it to him.

'I had a young man about your age here just yesterday. Couldn't speak though, poor fellow...' Phrases and images waltzed, coquettish, through his mind. The connection between them all had not yet appeared in the dance, instead staying tantalizingly out of reach.

Whose is that face in my memory? Whose is that face in my mind?

Chestnut hair flashed in the sunlight as the pilot left the cockpit. The black fingers combed through the wild hair, unconsciously trying to tame the savage strands. The pilot turned, his features melding into a smile. Grey-green eyes stared intensely into his own.

Whose is that face...?

The cripple was watching him, looming ever closer with each frantic step. The sound of his name whispered into his ears as if a dream, calling again fiercely. He leaned heavily against the wooden crutch, his mouth open in an undeterminable expression. Grey-green eyes stared intensely into his own.

The beat had changed. The dancers lively stepped into the new rhythm.

There was no body.

'Migel...is a-'

'He's dead. Folken's damn stupid creature killed him.'

There was no body.

'What's up with that guy?'

'Gatti!'

The waltz came to an end. Understanding reached out her hand and called for a partner.
It was Migel. He is alive.

'Sir?' Dilandau continued to talk words that were beyond Gatti's comprehension, his silky voice filling the vast room. Shanti and Guimel side-glanced him from either side, each with a demeanor that wordlessly asked what the hell did he think he was doing.
'Sir?' Gatti repeated, his voice stronger with his determinated revelation. Dilandau stopped, his mouth still open from the words he had been speaking. The garnet slits stared straight at him, drilling deep into him and daring him to be as insolent as to speak again.
Gatti walked up to the bottom of the dark blue and black marble stairs that led up to the large, carved throne, his boots hitting the floor with loud, echoing footsteps. When he reached the foot of the stairs, he went down into the submissive, respect-for-superiors position; sitting on his folded legs with each arm outstretched to either side. He tilted his chin downward, and peered up through his dusty bangs at the glaring countenance of the commander.
'Please, Master Dilandau. We can't attack Godasim just yet,' The other Dragon Slayers looked at their fellow as if he had gone mad. Guimel locked wide eyes with Shanti, whose accusing glance caused Guimel to shake his head in confusion. He didn't know what was going on.
Dilandau gave a hollow, mirthless laugh, and tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair.

'Oh, really? And why not?' he asked, toying as a cat does with a mouse before killing it. Gatti knew full well the danger he was in, and could sense the other Slayers knew as well. Seeing the mocking, laughing glint in his deep eyes struck a nerve; he wasn't being taken seriously. He lifted his head enough to look Dilandau full in the face, reason fleeing him as he spoke boldly.

'I believe Migel is in Godasim,' The fingers slowed in their tapping. Shanti shook his head, moving to take a step forward to end this silly madness, but Guimel quickly grabbed him and pulled him back. His head shook rapidly in a gesture ordering the Highlander to leave it.

'That's because he died there,' Dilandau said through his teeth, each word slowly and precisely pronounced. Gatti shook his head, an odd tremor in his voice as he replied.

'No, sir. I think he's alive. I think Migel is alive in Godasim,' A collective gasp came from the Dragon Slayers. Gatti was in for it this time. The elegant fingers had long since stopped tapping, both hands now gripping the arms of the chair. Dilandau sat up straight in his chair, breathing heavily. His attempts to keep up his cool composure were fast abandoning him.

'You think? Were you not listening when I told you all he was dead? That that thing killed him? Strangled by a Doppelganger...how pathetic. Migel was weak. And now he's dead because of that,'

'You're wrong, sir.' Gatti shot back the second Dilandau stopped speaking. The room went completely silent. The blink of an eye would have sounded as loud as a thundercloud, had anyone blinked. All thirteen pairs of eyes were on Dilandau. His pupils were mere slits in the twitching, manic eyes...the fingers gripping the throne so tightly that underneath the gloves the skin was pure white, his hands shaking.

'What. Did. You. Say.'

'I know Migel is alive. I've seen him.' replied Gatti, determined. Behind him, Guimel had dropped his head, a disgusted, pitying sound escaping through his clenched teeth as simultaneously Shanti put a hand to his mouth, tears starting to form in his eyes in the hope that he would just stop, please stop...

'HOW?!' Dilandau roared. Gatti now had no other choice but to confess.

'I...I went to look for Dante.'

'You did WHAT?'

'I was spotted by Freidan soldiers, and pursued, and as I ran I saw him. He was standing there with a crutch, and he called my name.' At the mention of the crutch, Guimel's head snapped up. Shanti watched him as his face spoke of inner emotions raging war...of piecing two and two together. He had evidently seen something as well, and now with Gatti's explanation, it seemed clearer. Turning the words over again, Shanti realized Gatti had not mentioned Guimel. He was taking all the blame on himself.
Eejit.

'I'm positive it was him. I'd recognize Migel anywhere.' Gatti said firmly. 'Migel is alive.' The room became filled with the low murmurs of mutterings of the Dragon Slayers. There was no reason to doubt Gatti; he wouldn't lie about such a thing. What if what he said was true? Could Migel really and truly be...alive? They were beginning to believe him.

Dilandau had gone completely white, a vein in his temple throbbing madly against the skin as he shook all over. Suddenly, wordlessly, the grip on the throne's arms tightened so strongly that the ends broke right off in his hands. The loud crack of stone and the crashing of the fallen pieces silenced the whisperings. The quick successive clicks of the red boots sounded like the hooves of a charging bull.
Armored knuckles connected with Gatti's left cheek in a sickening crunch that bounced off the walls. Each Dragon Slayer flinched as his head was whipped to the right, his shoulders following.

'How dare you?!' Barely having recovered from the first blow, Gatti's upper body was jerked to the left as he was struck in the other cheek. 'How DARE you lie!' The fist struck him again with ruthless force. 'How DARE you lie about Migel!'

'I...I don't lie...' Gatti sputtered. Why doesn't he believe me? He lifted his eyes and glared at Dilandau, pleading with his eyes to understand. 'He's a-'
SMACK

'You LIAR! He's dead! He's dead! HE'S DEAD!' Dilandau was screaming now, his fists hammering into the kneeling Slayer until the last word, where a carefully aimed right fist slammed squarely into Gatti's jaw. Gatti was thrown backwards with the force. For an eternal second he seemed to hang in the air, his back arched and his arms out in front of him in a grotesque imitation of a ballerina's pose, before he crashed to the marble floor. His head struck the floor, and fell limply to the side. Blood trickled from his mouth and pooled under his cheek.

Dilandau stepped back with a blank expression, both his hands shaking as the armor on the knuckles threatened to break off. Shanti ran forward and fell to his knees beside Gatti, carefully checking for any broken bones before cradling his head gently. Dilandau sat back in his throne, trembling and muttering incoherently to himself. Gatti's glazed eyes blinked as he regained consciousness.

'F...for..give me...' Guimel and Dalet picked Gatti up under each arm and dragged him off to the medical room. Shesta went over to the twitching commander to try and calm him down.

'Are you alright, Master Dilandau?' he asked gently. Shanti stood up slowly, his shoulders hunched and his fingers curved into claws. His eyes were narrowed, and under the dim blue light Shesta swore they were glowing. Dilandau stared back, looking unnerved, yet perhaps even apologetic. Shanti turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, leaving the remaining Dragon Slayers to wonder if they had actually seen and heard what they did. Shesta watched him leave, then turned back to Dilandau and place a reassuring hand on the red armor on his shoulder. The albino shook him off as if his hand were a hot iron and stepped quickly out of the room, making a beeline for his quarters. Presently the other Slayers disbanded to walk the halls like lost sheep in search of something to do. Shesta looked where Gatti had lain, and the blood that channeled into tiny cracks in the floor, and shook his head.
What is happening to us?

***

What is happening to me? Dilandau paced his chambers like a trapped animal, eager to be free of its cage. Why...would I react like that? Why did he bring it up? It's his fault...Gatti. It's his fault.
The vino will help...whispered a voice in his head.
'Yes...' His hands shook as he poured the bottle, the liquid concealed inside spilling onto the table in small puddles. And yet he didn't care. He had beaten his loyal subordinate senseless over a lie. It wasn't just a lie. He sneaked out without orders to find someone who I've disowned. He should be discharged because of that.
Dilandau sipped at the cup in nervous intervals, realizing with faint bemusement it was the cup that had previously held tea.
It is a lie. It can't be true. If Migel were alive, he would come back. As the alcohol flowed through his veins, Dilandau stopped pacing and collapsed onto his bed. He thought his room was very dark and foreboding, and he suddenly wanted to have someone with him.

Don't leave me alone...

Dilandau didn't doubt that Gatti would be truthful. Gatti was one of his favourites...he had charisma, and he had guts. Something in Dilandau refused to believe what he said. He had already gone through the process, and the bottles of vino, of forgetting Migel. He had accepted the death of his best fighter...his unofficial second-in-command. It was hard for all of them to accept that such a thing could happen to them. They were gods among men...they were, after all, the Dragon Slayers of the Zaibach Empire.
Then Migel died. Not in a glorious battle...but by a filthy animal that only lived through deceptions and lies.
He was weak. He died because he wasn't strong enough.
Why can't you believe him? Why do you shut out hope?
Go away.
Why can't you believe in your men? Why do you refuse to-
Shut up.
Dilandau hated the voice. He had determined it would only appear when he got very emotional, and so he therefore would keep away anything that would make him emotional. He had also determined that enough vino and the promise of a battle was enough to make the voice go away.
And so Dilandau drank, alone in his cage consumed by his own guilt. And this time there would be no one to bring him tea.

***

'Gatti? Are ye awake?' That beautiful voice filled his ears and added to the throbbing, pulsating hammer that persisted in striking his skull repeatedly.

'Mm-hmm...' The light that had tortured his eyes through the delicate skin dimmed, and a bittersweet liquid filled his mouth. On impulse he swallowed, and the throbbing in his brain subsided slowly. The voice appeared again, quiet and sweet.

'Here...keep this against yer face. It'll help keep the swelling down,' At once his senses burst into life as a soft, ice-cold cloth was placed against both sides of his jaw. Gatti suddenly became aware of the ice, and how it burned his sensitive skin that exploded into ache whenever he tried to move. He tasted blood in his mouth amongst the remains of the liquid, and licked his lips to try and find the cut.

'Man...Master Dilandau sure beat the crap out of him, didn't he?'

'Don't. Speak.' Shanti was filled with anger and was dying to take it out on someone. Guimel, sensing this, shrugged and made himself useful by sitting, quietly, in a chair in a corner out of the way.

'I still want to know what made him do such a stupid thing. No offense, Gatti, but that was the stupidest thing you've ever done. Not even Shesta does things that stupid.'

'At least he dinna say ye was involved! Just think aboot what Master Dilandau would hae done to ye!' Gatti listened to them squabble, and became amused by the way Shanti reverted back to her accent when she was extremely upset. The Highlander saw his pained grin.
'And what're you laughin' at?' he asked crossly. Guimel began to laugh, which only served to irritate the fiery boy further. 'Eejit.' The other lifted his hands in mock surrender, his fingers moving into a gesture to ward off bad luck.

'D'you think he believed me...?' Gatti asked before Guimel could think of something smart to say. Guimel stopped laughing, and after staring long and hard at him, replied slowly,

'I don't know. I think that Migel's death affected him more than we thought.'

'I wonder if he wants to believe you.' Shanti mused thoughtfully. 'If he was affected that deeply, I dinna think he wants to believe Migel is alive. Master Dilandau is afraid.'

'Master Dilandau isn't afraid of anything!' Guimel snorted.

'Everyone is afraid of something,' insisted the Highlander. 'Just think if you were told someone was alive, and they weren't. You would have gotten your hopes up, and then you'd have to go through the process of dealing with their death again. I think he doesn't want to do that...he's fine as long as he's accepted Migel's death. He doesn't want to be disappointed.' Guimel couldn't think of anything to say, so he made a face and mumbled to himself that Master Dilandau still wasn't afraid of anything.

'Do you believe me?' Gatti asked them suddenly. Shanti's eyes moved to Guimel, who looked back. There was another long silence where no answer was the wrong answer.

'Yes,' he replied quietly, as if he didn't want anyone to overhear. 'I do believe you. But you must never speak of it again.'

'But-'

'You saw what Master Dilandau did to you!' Shanti interjected. 'He could have killed you for leaving the Vione in the first place!'

'But-!'

'No. Not until we can find him again. Agreed?' Guimel's tone suggested it would be in Gatti's best interests to agree. Seeing as how the odds were against him anyway, Gatti nodded in defeat.

'Agreed.'

Several minutes later, Shesta and Dalet appeared at the door to rest from their aimless wanderings.

'How is everyone? Wow,' Shesta stared at Gatti. 'Your face is more bruised than Dalet's was!' he said in awe, receiving incredulous looks in return.

'Thank you, Shesta.'

'How are you feeling?' asked Dalet, eyeing the bruised and swollen skin- a feeling he knew too well.

'Well enough to give those Freidans a run for their money,' was the reply, to everyone's amusement.

'You'll get that chance soon. Once Master Dilandau gives the orders, we're flying straight into the main city and wreaking complete havoc!' Dalet said as he twisted a dark strand of hair around his finger, an indication he was becoming more himself.
The promise of a battle was enough to psyche each Slayer up. Savage excitement within them pulled like a horse on a bit, eager to be released as pure, calculating, destructive energy.

Suddenly, the cries of 'Stand by for battle!' echoed throughout the long, twisting hallways of the Vione. Dragon Slayers ran sporadically past the doorway to the hangar.

'Yes!' Guimel crowed in delight and soared off his chair into the busy hallway, followed by Shesta and Dalet. Shanti watched Gatti sit up too quickly, and reach out for something to grasp as all the blood rushed from his already throbbing head. It was completely futile to even suggest not going into battle, so Shanti handed him a small capsule and a drink of water, - 'It'll make your headache go away.'- which he took graciously.
Shanti helped Gatti stand up and impulsively straightened up his collar, wiping stray flecks of blood from the leather. The action was so insignificant, but Gatti was on an impending adrenaline kick.

'Shanti?' He felt the box in his pocket, and tried to catch her eye.

'Na...?' She was still smoothing out the black fabric, so he took her hands. Her hazel eyes looked into his with an expression of pouting confusion. 'Well?' she pushed when Gatti continued to stare at her. A Slayer poked his head in the door and told them to hurry up.

'N...nothing,' Gatti said after the boy had left. Shanti tilted her chin downward and raised a brow disbelievingly. Feeling as if the moment had sputtered and was slowly spiralling in a downwards arc, Gatti leant forward and kissed her in a kiss that lasted longer than it normally should have under the circumstances.
Soon they too had joined the flow of bodies that swarmed the halls like the drones of a hive, one destination in mind: the hangar.

***

'Oh this is great! This is so great!' Guimel was still obviously psyched up as he chattered, quite giddy, over the com-link. Shanti kept her eyes on the horizon, her heart forcing the adrenaline drug through her body. They flew in formation, her guymelef at the very back behind Gatti and Guimel. It was rather like a pack of wolves; the crimson alpha male and his seasoned pack of silver-blue...and, of course, the green pup.
Being in a group, surrounded by her comrades and fellow hunters, was a new experience for Shanti. The groups she had trained in were no larger than three or four, herself included.

'There it is.' Gatti's voice filled the cockpit; hushed with the uncontrollable adrenaline fever that raged fire-hot inside them all. A section of guymelefs split in opposite directions, one group each heading east, west, and south to surround the city. The group left would attack the very heart of Godasim.
Shanti was part of Dilandau's main squadron; himself, Gatti, Guimel, Shesta, Dalet and her in place of Migel. They were instructed to keep their communication links on a certain frequency; they would be in contact with only their group and the leaders of the three others.

Switching out of Flight mode, the pilots braced themselves as the ground hurtled up to meet them. The guymelefs slammed into the earth, stirring up large clouds of dust.

'Stealth Cloaks on,' Dilandau ordered. There was a loud mechanical noise as the whole line of guymelefs changed their form. The 'shoulders' of the Alseides moved down as the dark grey, white-lined bar around each one moved upwards and together. The cloaks of the guymelef unfurled around the rest of the machine, and hid it away into the safety of invisibility.
Although the Stealth Cloaks were an invaluble commodity, Shanti disliked the limited visibility. The two vertical bars were tightly together, the curve in them creating a hole to look through. Anywhere besides that hole were dark underneath the long cloaks. Apparently being a ghost meant no peripheral vision.
The spherical eyepiece came down over Shanti's right eye. Inside the glass was a painted circle with an arrow that jutted from the lower right side towards the middle for targetting means. The eyepiece could also magnify far objects, so Shanti zoomed into the horizon.
From their current waiting position outside the city, they would meet up with Freid's 'melef unit within seconds of them entering. The dark brown guymelefs were armed with long spears with a lengthy chain attached. There was a line that surrounded the inner perimeter, but the main concentration were located around the castle.

'What's taking so long?' Shanti mused out loud, forgetting the com-link was on.

'We're awaiting orders from Folken, baka.' Guimel retorted, as if it were an easy question that everybody knew.

'Not that Master Dilandau ever listens to Lord Folken,' came Dalet's mumbled reply, half-hidden in static. If Dilandau heard the remark, he was too preoccupied to care as each of the squadron leaders spoke up.

'Unit 01 East gate, ready,'

'Unit 02 West gate, ready,'

'Unit 03 South gate, ready,'

'Excellent.' Dilandau's voice shook with glee as he said the three words that each impatient ear waited to hear-

'All units attack!'