The Hunt: Part 3
-ZibbelCoot
Disclaimer:
All Escaflowne characters, places and such are ©1996, ©1998, ©1999 TV Tokyo, Sunrise. English adaptation ©1998 AnimeVillage.com and the dub version they tried to pass off as anime belongs to Fox I guess. However, Zorya Pele and Syrun are my characters and I'd appreciate it if you ask me before using them. Also the song "Syrun" is also mine so please don't use it without asking!
Author's notes:
Same as last time, happens 2 1/2 years after Escaflowne: A Girl in Gaea.
As for the romance part of the fic I just thought I'd explain a bit. I didn't want this to be a love at first sight fic, because personally I don't think Dilandau would see a girl like that the first time he saw her, not to mention the girl. Realistically would you fall in love with a fire happy murderer? Didn't think so. However the romance parts have been written (and beta approved ::cackles evilly::) and they are slowly going to trickle in.
Van stared up at the night sky. He could still feel that disturbance within his veins. No doubt it was because of the white dragon essence in his blood. He closed his deep brown eyes for a moment, trying to reach out to see if it was her-
"Lord Van?" His meditation interrupted, his eyes snapped open. A girl with pink hair stood not more than five feet from him. How did she get so close without me hearing her? Her normal attire of a sun dress and sandals had been turned in for thick boots and a heavy cloak to wear around warm colored clothes. Nothing else would suit the cat girl.
"What is it Merle?"
"Are you all right? You've been distant... ever since-"
"I'm fine," he replied gruffly, taking his hands off the recently rebuilt ramparts. Not giving his childhood friend a second look, he turned and walked off, to try and be by himself.
"Lord Van..." she barely whispered to his retreating form, but he did not hear her words, nor the tone that she said them in.
Zorya could taste stale musty straw, among other things, in her mouth. "You can't put me here!" she shouted, and spat out the offending straw. Crimson eyes laughed at her even if the boy's face remained deadly calm.
"I can do whatever I please. A mere girl can't presume to order me," he replied, that grin back on his face. Zorya sat up, her bruised body whispering sweet things, if only she would just rest... The soldier named Dilandau, no the general named Dilandau left her then, the musty straw and cold cell walls her only companions now.
"What a fine mess you've gotten yourself into," she whispered, drawing her knees up against her chest and resting her forehead on them. The part of her that had steadfastly assumed it was a dream up until this point disappeared. It was all too real, the look alike princess, the blood on her face, that crazed look in the general's eye... I want to go home...
Patience. We will help you and you will help us as agreed. Patience is the key.
I may not live that long. "Executed for looking like royalty. Wouldn't they laugh at me now," she chuckled, the sound hollow as fear gripped at her. She was going to die tomorrow, or perhaps even tonight.
"How dare you give me another incompetent advisor! You used her to try and sway me to Selven's side," the princess seethed, her words short and heated. She paced the throne room, every so often glancing at her uncle. How could you let him speak to you like that? Are you that desperate to be free of the crown?
"I did what I thought was best-"
"No, they told you to give me that whelp. Didn't they? Well, I demand to get an advisor who can at least defend them self. How am I to feel safe unless they can protect me as well?" The princess managed to blank her face as she turned to face the king. A smile threatened to overcome her face and show the ruse she was playing. All she needed was for the king to pick a dragonslayer to protect her...
Pale silver blond hair trailed down the majestic lady's back. Saddened deep blue eyes stared at the open landscape before her, pale lashes framing them delicately. No one would ever dare think a woman of her stature, of her elegance could be related to the barbaric leader of the savage dragonslayers.
A sigh escaped her lips as she turned away from the wide window and began down the hall. It was such a sad desolate place. She would not have expected him to be anywhere else. What's that old adage? Misery loves company? War creates misery... and he thrives on it.
She turned down a corridor, knowing they were housed here. To an untrained eye it may have seemed strange, a nation at war with a corridor unguarded. No doubt if she were to call out no one would hear her or come to her aid. Unless he gave the order.
She passed three doors on her left, two on her right. The barest of sounds seeping through the wood's pores and stone's cracks. The sounds varied, from the shuffling of feet to the varied pitches of voices. For a moment she thought she recognized some of the voices, and imagined the faces they belonged to. A smile pulled at her lips but, she suppressed it.
The sounds stopped as she approached one door. She nearly frowned but suppressed this as well. Had he withdrawn so much he could not even stand to be roomed near them? Fool. You're nothing more than a fool.
Dilandau's footfalls were the only sound as he walked the corridor. Not even his men, housed in the very corridor he walk, made a sound. A grin on his face, Dilandau looked at the doors as he passed. Long ago the king had withdrawn his guards from this sections of the castle. Mistrust in those one hire's is a dangerous thing, and I won't have it. If he can't trust our skill we'll leave. And he can't afford us leaving.
Dilandau arrived at his own door, the immediate neighboring rooms unoccupied. He wanted no intrusions when he was forced to stay here, least of all the noises of his men. Torch light, the sources dispersed evenly through the hall, cast an eerie light over his face. his silver hair reflected the fires' glow, making it appear his hair was a torch in itself. Something crossed over his face as the patterns of light danced on the solid stones, but was gone in seconds. He would have time to think when he was alone.
As he entered his room however, he was acutely aware that his privacy had been invaded. Dilandau watched the room's other occupant with a mixture of scorn and something he cared not to say. "You followed me here did you? Amazing, for a woman. Still it was pointless for you."
"Is that anyway to treat your sister?" a softer voice floated on air. Dilandau frowned, and looked away. She always was the favorite, always better, always doing something. "Now then, about that girl-"
"She's going to be executed, after a suitable torture is arranged," he grinned. For the moment he would ignore how she even found out. Had she been in throne room? Hidden among those mindless twits that were supposed to aide royalty but instead hindered them?
"You can't do that."
"Why not?" he shouted, turning to face her. Deep blue eyes and white hair on a slender face filled his sight. Her eyes were a startling contrast to his crimson irises. "I am the dragonslayers' General, need I remind you of-"
"She's not of Gaea. You can't simply kill her now." The soft words did something to calm dilandau's nerves. What does she know of that? Shesta must be informing her again. Perhaps she's right, perhaps the hunt should go on a bit longer. "Besides, father would've-"
"Don't you dare speak his name Celena," he growled, a dagger in his hand. His anger boiled within his veins and Dilandau did nothing to control it. Even after all these years she would never learn, that she was the one person who destroyed what little restraints he created and clung to. The woman watched him expectantly, her eyes showing no fear. Just like her-
He remembered their mother, a woman with silver blue hair and the palest of blue eyes. She was a second cousin to the late Queen of Fanelia, and that blood ran in her veins. He shut his eyes, as if in thought to his sister. In reality he did it to block out the images that would come next, of her death.
A water dragon had killed her. Where had the water dragon god been then? Had he purposely snatched away their mother? Dilandau let out a light laugh. He slew the beast later on of course, and set it aflame on land. Yes, fire was such a wonderful weapon...
"Dilandau."
"What?" irritation and annoyance obvious in his voice. "Why are you still here?"
"Folken's sorcerers are here."
"Your point being?"
"They might-"
"Please, Escaflowne was taken away when that bitch disappeared. Now if you're mindless twittering is done leave me. I wish to think for while on our next attack." He turned away from her and retreated, making sure to keep his back to her. He couldn't stand the sight of her anymore, not since she looked so much like her.
Celena allowed a slight frown to distort her face. Dilandau's gotten worse. Is it because of me? Am I driving him to the breaking point? She shook her head, an exasperated sigh escaping from her. It had to be the memory of their father that was doing it to him. The man who had saved her and left his own son to the wild dogs...
Celena turned, and approached the room's door. He looked nothing like their father, and had only the dark red eyes of their paternal grandfather, something that she was sure unnerved their father while he lived. The boy had the eyes of a general, a man to be feared. Something their father had no chance of achieving. Another thought occurred to her as she pushed it open, what did Folken do to you?
The door opened with barely a sound, Celena did not bother to look about to see if there were any threats as her brother might have. A lone figure in the hall jumped however, obviously surprised at any movement from the room. "L-lady Celena!" She stared at him for a moment, trying to remember which one it was. Shesta wasn't it? The blond boy with short hair.
"I'll be back in a few minutes Shesta, I just wish to get a feel for my new surroundings." Whatever the dragonslayer was about to say was forgotten as she smiled at him. Celena was able to keep her face relatively blank, aside from the retreating smile, at the look that overcame the dragonslayer. With a sweep of her dress, Celena was off for the dungeon, only a few hallways over.
Once out of Shesta's earshot, Celena allowed herself a quick giggle. Her smile always did that to any of Dilandau's men. Except Dilandau himself, she thought sadly, her lips going back into a firm line of pink.
Guards began to sporadically dot the hallways, barely giving her a second glance. A woman was not something to be feared after all, she thought unhappily. Of course, like before, she did not look the part of a general's sister. Perhaps that was why she was trusted so easily by others. The dungeon's guards gave her a nod after she paused and smiled briefly. Men, such fools. Swayed so easily by their bodies...
The cells on either side of her were barely occupied. A solitary Hiwero prisoner of war perhaps in just a few cells. I'm amazed dilandau hasn't killed them yet... Perhaps with tomorrow's execution. She paused however at a cell towards the end of the dungeon's run. Surprisingly there were no dragonslayers posted as guards outside the girl's cell; or any guards o speak of.
"How odd," her voice too soft for the cell's occupant. She peeked in, and saw the girl sitting in a corner, a streak of moonlight striking across her body in a downward diagonal. Why wouldn't dilandau post a guard? He can't possibly want you to escape, not after the whole torture bit. "What's your name?"
She had made sure that her voice was loud enough for the girl to hear this time. Hesitantly the head tilted upward, blood staining pale skin. "Why am I here?"
"I asked you a question," she restated, this time putting a bit of Dilandau's edge into it. the girl flinched and sighed.
"Zorya, Zorya Pele," she answered. Celena smiled at that, that's a pretty name. "Why am I here?"
Celena continued to smile, and took a step towards the cell. "Dilandau has horrible manners I must say. The king and his advisors want to speak with you I suspect-" she lied.
"Why? I just want to go home." Something in the girl's voice made Celena's blood run cold. Is she afraid? Afraid of what? She was in the middle of a battle and an ambush, she can't possibly fear death- The girl's face was fully visible now and Celena could make out blood dried on her face, hair and clothes. The faintest reflection of tears in her eyes, threatening to cleanse her cheeks.
"I'm sure you do. I'll be sure to alert someone to your needs for change of clothing and bath." Zorya blinked at her, as if surprised someone would do something nice. "Please don't look so surprised, not all of us are fighting a war."
"Do you know when I can leave?"
"Probably not until King Kaele or Dilandau says so. Please forgive the owners of the castle for your conditions at the moment. I'll see to it that you're tended to soon."
Celena never felt such a rush to be gone from someone before in her life. She needed to be away from this spot, as far as she could get. Before, when she had spoken with Dilandau she had been unsure if the girl was not of Gaea. But now, after speak and seeing the girl herself Celena was certain. While she had not had the chance to see the winged goddess nearly three years ago, she was convinced Zorya was of the same.
"Fool, you'll kill her and not care for Gaea," Celena muttered nearly running down a hallway. She had to inform the king, or the princess; anyone that would listen to her. She had to find them before Dilandau accomplished his task... his 'hunt'.
Dilandau entered the cell, barely glancing over his shoulder to make sure the guards had obeyed his order. No Celet castle guard was in sight. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, he'd kill her now and no one would be the wiser tomorrow morning. After all would some lowly dungeon keeper dare fight the word of a dragonslayer and his general. Dallet was wandering the halls nearby, just in case...
The sound of the door creaking open caused his prey to look up, her face still tainted with blood and soot. "Why are you keeping me? Why can't I go home?" she whispered from her corner of the cell.
Dilandau grinned wickedly, and approached her slowly, allowing the door to swing open behind him. Taunting prey with the possibility of escape was delightful, especially this one. He had her now, caged like an animal. It was nothing like a dragon slaying, but it was something to pass the time. Indeed, this was certainly more interesting than a slaying. Just how would he disarm this beast? insults? Threats? Flattery? He flinched at the last word that crossed his mind. What was i thinking. She is nothing more than prey. Perhaps this game of slayer and dragon is already over.
Agonizingly slowly, Dilandau unsheathed his sword. The double moonlight filtered in from some unseen window, casting a pale sheen on Zorya from the reflecting blade. That wicked smile did not sway now, not as he carried himself closer to her. It will all be over, the hunt, the slaying. And the war can begin again.
"Why are you going to do this?"
"Why not? You did steal my horse and throw my men into an ambush," his words rang out in a sing-song voice. From Dilandau that was even more frightening than normal. Zorya moved further into the cell away from him. You can't escape me.
"Let me go," she pleaded with him, her words falling on deaf ears. Yes, a cornered animal tended to fight a bit more viciously at the end than any other. This would be an interesting end to an interesting hunt.
"No," he drawled out, raising the sword, deciding a downward slash across the neck would prove to spout the most blood. Even as Dilandau focused on her neck, he failed to focus on the rest of her. Her eyes narrowed in anger, frustration perhaps, her lips pursed together.
"I won't be killed in some dungeon, caged by a prepubescent boy colony!" she suddenly screeched. Dilandau took that opportunity to act, and missed.
She ducked under his blade, the skin of her neck barely getting nicked by it. He prepared himself for some sort of body slam, no doubt a woman would try that. He sorely miscalculated. Her knee rammed into the one part of his body not armored. With a shriek of his own, Dilandau fell to his knees, his sword dropped and forgotten. THE PAIN! "Erg... you-ou'll pay," he snarled at her, his voice a falsetto to sing with the best, fists clenching and unclenching.
From above him she merely smiled smugly. "You're all so... over confident, always looking over the smallest thing," she left him with those words, and ran out of the room.
"Dammit!" he shouted, though it sounded more mousy than his normal voice. How had he let her do that? Why hadn't he thought of that? He could've blocked, and used the blade to still slash her throat out. Dammit... he closed his eyes, willing the pain to be gone so he could torture that bitch the proper way.
Why the hell did I waste time and say that? Because I'd never get a chance to do that again, she answered her own thoughts. Zorya ran down the hall, with no clue as to where she was heading. All she knew was she was in a lower level and had to get up and out. The probability of her managing to do that? Slim to none, aren't those odds just wonderful? "Perfectly swell," she muttered sarcastically to herself, halting at a corner. Someone was coming; someone that could alert the others to her escape.
Frantically her grey green eyes looked for anything she could hide herself with or use as a weapon. A half dislodged brick proved to be the only thing available. Hefting it in her hands, Zorya waited. Her breathing was slow, no point in allowing the person to know exactly where she was. She watched as a boy with shoulder length brown hair appeared around the corner, still walking straight down it. He didn't throw her even a backwards glance as the half brick came down on the back of his skull. His body fell noiselessly to the stone floor, something Zorya hadn't really expected. Throwing a cautious look down the hallway, she began to drag him around the corner. "Sorry about his but I need these to get out," she groaned, pulling off the boy's heavy armor.
The blue suited her fine, but she wasn't sure if she'd be able to get out unnoticed. There was always the question nagging her at the back of her mind... "Just where am I going to go?"
Syrun shut his eyes once more as he felt the goddess move. "Here... come here, to us," he barely whispered, spinning another spell. The binding spell would damage her too much and she would not live for their purposes. However, a simple calling could work.
One sorcerer looked from him to the others, though Syrun did not see the exchange. The sorcerer smiled at the other three. "She feels a pull to escape and is doing so; only she shall escape to us. Soon, very soon we shall have Celet in our grasp."
"The dragonslayers though, they could prove to be a problem," a man on his right spoke up.
"Yes, perhaps she can be used to dispel their group," another said from the darkness.
"I suppose. As long as she remains intact we may use her to do just that. The leader will be most vulnerable, especially if we dispose of the blood..."
"She can be programed to do that, and the slayers can be entranced."
"Yes, indeed. All is falling into our hands."
Celena continued her half run, half walk down the halls when a strange calm came over her. She could feel him, nagging and biting at her sanity like some malicious fly. Willing him to be gone, Celena breathed in deeply, focusing on her life. A home, a family, a life. No murders, no fires, no chaos.
Her eyes twitched, something else was bothering him. Something... pain, perhaps. A giggle had sprung from her tight lips before she could stop it. "Dilandau... you were a fool. A fool," she continued to giggle down the corridor. The bubbly laugh subsided, her blue eyes now opened. Was this the right way to the throne room? Where were the guards? Just where was everyone? They hadn't left her alone had they? No... she couldn't be alone... not alone... DILANDAU!
Dilandau growled as her thoughts assailed him. It figured she'd pick now to get lonely. Stupid bitch, just wait until I get my hands on you... Oh the fun I'll have carving out your carcass. His body writhed and spasmed in pain one last time as he willed it away.
A chilling laugh rang off the cell's walls, causing the prisoners dispersed in the other cells to freeze.
The pupils of his eyes were almost tiny slits of black within seas of red. A sadistic grin played upon his lips. He hadn't had a hunt like this since the winged goddess had been here! Abruptly, the laughing he'd let loose within the cell stopped, an eerie quiet engulfing him. His lids lowered partially, his eyes regained their normal 'not quite sane' look. The smile however, did not leave his face.
He rose up from the floor in one fluid movement, and took only a second to grab the hilt of his sword. In one more second he was out of the cell, the metal grating swinging behind him. Baka, you could've closed the door... oh well your mistake, my opportunity.
It did not take him long to discover where she had run to. After all this was a place unfamiliar to her, there were only a few options. He ran faster, down another hallway and nearly tripped over two exposed legs from a cleft in the wall. He ignored it and instead jumped over it, no wondering about who it could be.
He held his sword close against his body. If it were the last thing he did he would make sure the girl was executed tonight. He heard the sharp distinct footsteps of someone running and instinctively ran in that direction. In moment he turned down another hallway and watched as someone in muted blue armor slowed and halted halfway in the corridor.
His grin widened for a moment and he charged forward. Whole the girl had been foolish and taken the time to spout some ridiculous comment he would not make that mistake, he would simply act. She must've heard him however, and turned to see him. For an instant he was reminded of rabbits caught away from their borrows, how frightened their dark eyes appeared to be.
"SHIT!" she screamed in an unlady-like manner and grabbed at the door. Just a few more feet... He brought the sword up and prepared for the final blow. He never got to strike however as she yanked open the door and slammed it on him, causing his sword to be embedded in the deep oak door.
"Why you," he muttered, several other curses flowing from his mouth as he dislodged the tempered steel. For a moment he shut himself up and looked around. She had run straight to the throne room... But what made her stop? he looked down the corridor and caught the faintest of shadows retreating down one hallway. There was someone else? No matter, the king will hand her over to me after I tell him what she's done.
Zorya threw her back against the door, then quickly jumped forward, expecting a sword tip to actually go through the door. This had been the only option, especially since Dilandau had been at her back while four men had blocked her escape route. There was something odd about the men though, something that made her think of black ash and fire.
She breathed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes, not bothering to look at where she was. A voice, nearly identical to her own stopped her brief respite. "Well if you're going to give me any wench off the street why don't you pick the next person that walks in here!"
"Your parents would not be please but fine, you there! You're the princess' new advisor," the king's voice boomed all around her. Hesitantly Zorya opened her eyes in disbelief. She'd ran into this room? Okay I'm convinced, nothing is ever going to go right here.
"You again! Uncle what did you do with her? I expected to talk with her when she was first here!"
"Her? Wait, you're the one the general wishes to execute-"
"Please! I'll do practically anything just don't kill me!" Zorya pleaded, stepping closer to the throne and people surrounding it. The princess had a mixture of emotions on her face, but it was the king Zorya focused on. Oh please be one of those nice guys from the fairy tales... h please oh please oh please...
The door was thrown open causing Zorya to jump and turn. He looked positively furious, the sword drawn and ready to slit her throat. Oh no...
"Very well she will have to do uncle."
"I thought you wanted me to pick-"
The princess waved that way with her hand, walking towards Zorya (who was steadily taking small steps back). "Why should I give you the honor of picking my advisor. You there, I suppose you're intelligent enough since you escaped from the general."
"Wha-?"
"Can you use a sword?" the princess questioned, apparently oblivious to the fact Dilandau was about to kill her.
"Y-y-es," Zorya barely stammered out as Dilandau's eyes met her own.
"She'll do. General, stand down. I will not tolerate you executing my advisor," the command in the princess' voice was unmistakable. For a moment Zorya didn't think he would listen, as he took another step forward... and another... and another. "Stand down!"
He merely continued to grin and advance upon her. "STAND DOWN!" the princess practically screamed. Zorya tensed, ready to at least try and duck out of the blade's reach. It proved unnecessary however as Dilandau halted in his steps, the sword sheathed. The grin was gone now and in its place was horrible grimace that pulled into a half snarl.
That look alone was enough to make Zorya's blood run cold.
Celena closed the door behind her, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. He had kept his restraints in place. Gaea can't afford to lose the goddess again, especially not at your hands brother.
Her body was covered in fine tremors as she staggered over to a chair. She didn't know why the panic attack had overcome her then, or why she hadn't been able to control it. She frowned to herself, her fingertips reaching up to touch her forehead. Normally she was so good with controlling them...
She forced her mind to calm down further, until he arrived. Though she preferred not to think about it, he helped to quell those attacks. As expected the door creaked open and her murderous brother walked in. "Why did you stop me?" he snarled at her.
Her face blanked, the fingers placed in her lap once more. "She can't be killed-"
"You doubt my skill?"
"No... no Dilandau, please you can't make enemies of the princess and King. You'll be forced to the barren land-" Celena stopped herself, realizing that could very well break his restraints and make him turn on her.
He remained silent and stalked through the small apartment, his goal a pitcher of water. At the back of her throat she could feel his thirst and suppressed it. "When do you leave again?"
"In two days. I expect you to be gone the next time we return," he muttered, taking a swig from a glass.
Celena rose dutifully from her chair.
"You can't let her die."
"Oh just watch and see," Dilandau whispered in the newborn darkness, too low for Celena to hear.
