A/N- the dash things (-) are for thoughts. Disclaimer: I don't own
Escaflowne or any of the characters but I do own the original ones and the
story. So...don't take it for your own... Feel free to review. :)
Chapter 1- Regrets
Allen sighed... he ran a hand through his long golden hair.
-Why?- he thought, -Why must it always be this way?-
The homely pub he currently resided in was warm and cozy. It had a low ceiling; a restored guest house, he came here often when he needed to think.
He felt so angry. So helpless, it was as though fate had just dropped its merciless hand into his life once again and taken away his sister. Leaving him powerless to resist it. Millerna too. She had recently been crowned the new Queen of Asturia in the Late King Aston's stead. With no-one to talk to, he had only himself in this pub... (His rowdy group of soldiers were his closest friends. But without his knighthood, they were no longer assigned to him.)
Allen was lonely and depressed. He was slowly reverting back to his old state of mind. And no-one was there to help him through it. No-one noticed. No-one cared.
He gestured to the barman, "Trad. Another drink."
* * *
In the centre of the city, high up in the private chambers of the new Queen, a beautiful young woman sat upon a luxurious window seat. Richly clothed, she restlessly fondled a worn leather bound diary which had belonged to her older sister, Marlene. Her nephew, Chid, had given it to her as a present. "Chid..." she murmured, "You are wise beyond your years. I am so, sorry that you must carry the heavy burden of the restoration of your country."
Millerna sat on the soft velvet cushion below the tall, narrow window watching the hustle and bustle of the city below. She looked sorrowful, her purple-blue eyes were blank... hiding the pain she felt inside.
* * *
On a bridge above the gently flowing river, a slim girl sat with her legs dangling over the edge. She was dressed oddly, in that she wore a cloak which was presently folded next to her; it made her too hot to wear in the sun. She had only one set of clothes she ever wore, some skin-tight trousers too short to call trousers yet too long to call shorts. She wore a loose shirt that fell below her narrow hips and her whole outfit was plain, fading black. The girl was deceptively young, if anyone cared to take a closer look they would see she was in her late teens- around 17.
Although she would be described as a wandering peasant she was not dirty, nor was she scruffy, and she spoke with the remnants of a person with an educated background. The girl had auburn hair of an indeterminable length which glinted gold in the midday sun. It was tied up tightly to keep it out her face, but despite this, a few unruly strands had escaped and gently framed her face. She reached up to tuck them behind her ears when she heard footsteps behind her.
-Just a passer-by- she thought, and ignored the sound, dropping her head to continue to admire the glistening water beneath her feet. Slowly, she realized the passer-by had stopped... She felt the hairs on the nape of her neck rise to attention. Whoever it was, was watching her.
Reassuringly, she felt her small knife safely tucked away in her belt beneath her shirt, invisible to inquisitive eyes. So, taking a steady breath she readied herself to confront the stranger, only to lose it as soon as she turned.
The stranger was an unusually handsome young man... he was watching her intently, his long golden hair was carelessly thrown over one shoulder while he leant on the other side of the bridge. Apart from his expensive leather trousers and knee-high polished boots, he gave a very casual appearance.
He wore an open necked, loose linen shirt tied around the waist with a purple silk sash. Most of all her attention was drawn to the white hilted samurai sword hanging from his belt. This was no ordinary trader. This was an expert swordsman... maybe... even a knight?
Their eyes locked.
Both were surprised at what they saw in each others eyes. Both saw the remnants of a great loss. Not yet healed. They both had deep blue eyes; the colour of the sky on a sunny, cloudless summer day.
"What do you want..?" The girl whispered "Why... are you watching me?" She found it hard to speak, her voice breathless and heady with... something...
The man with the sky-blue eyes did not deign to reply. He simply continued to watch her to the point where she was about to ask again, when he admitted softly, "I don't know..."
Chapter 1- Regrets
Allen sighed... he ran a hand through his long golden hair.
-Why?- he thought, -Why must it always be this way?-
The homely pub he currently resided in was warm and cozy. It had a low ceiling; a restored guest house, he came here often when he needed to think.
He felt so angry. So helpless, it was as though fate had just dropped its merciless hand into his life once again and taken away his sister. Leaving him powerless to resist it. Millerna too. She had recently been crowned the new Queen of Asturia in the Late King Aston's stead. With no-one to talk to, he had only himself in this pub... (His rowdy group of soldiers were his closest friends. But without his knighthood, they were no longer assigned to him.)
Allen was lonely and depressed. He was slowly reverting back to his old state of mind. And no-one was there to help him through it. No-one noticed. No-one cared.
He gestured to the barman, "Trad. Another drink."
* * *
In the centre of the city, high up in the private chambers of the new Queen, a beautiful young woman sat upon a luxurious window seat. Richly clothed, she restlessly fondled a worn leather bound diary which had belonged to her older sister, Marlene. Her nephew, Chid, had given it to her as a present. "Chid..." she murmured, "You are wise beyond your years. I am so, sorry that you must carry the heavy burden of the restoration of your country."
Millerna sat on the soft velvet cushion below the tall, narrow window watching the hustle and bustle of the city below. She looked sorrowful, her purple-blue eyes were blank... hiding the pain she felt inside.
* * *
On a bridge above the gently flowing river, a slim girl sat with her legs dangling over the edge. She was dressed oddly, in that she wore a cloak which was presently folded next to her; it made her too hot to wear in the sun. She had only one set of clothes she ever wore, some skin-tight trousers too short to call trousers yet too long to call shorts. She wore a loose shirt that fell below her narrow hips and her whole outfit was plain, fading black. The girl was deceptively young, if anyone cared to take a closer look they would see she was in her late teens- around 17.
Although she would be described as a wandering peasant she was not dirty, nor was she scruffy, and she spoke with the remnants of a person with an educated background. The girl had auburn hair of an indeterminable length which glinted gold in the midday sun. It was tied up tightly to keep it out her face, but despite this, a few unruly strands had escaped and gently framed her face. She reached up to tuck them behind her ears when she heard footsteps behind her.
-Just a passer-by- she thought, and ignored the sound, dropping her head to continue to admire the glistening water beneath her feet. Slowly, she realized the passer-by had stopped... She felt the hairs on the nape of her neck rise to attention. Whoever it was, was watching her.
Reassuringly, she felt her small knife safely tucked away in her belt beneath her shirt, invisible to inquisitive eyes. So, taking a steady breath she readied herself to confront the stranger, only to lose it as soon as she turned.
The stranger was an unusually handsome young man... he was watching her intently, his long golden hair was carelessly thrown over one shoulder while he leant on the other side of the bridge. Apart from his expensive leather trousers and knee-high polished boots, he gave a very casual appearance.
He wore an open necked, loose linen shirt tied around the waist with a purple silk sash. Most of all her attention was drawn to the white hilted samurai sword hanging from his belt. This was no ordinary trader. This was an expert swordsman... maybe... even a knight?
Their eyes locked.
Both were surprised at what they saw in each others eyes. Both saw the remnants of a great loss. Not yet healed. They both had deep blue eyes; the colour of the sky on a sunny, cloudless summer day.
"What do you want..?" The girl whispered "Why... are you watching me?" She found it hard to speak, her voice breathless and heady with... something...
The man with the sky-blue eyes did not deign to reply. He simply continued to watch her to the point where she was about to ask again, when he admitted softly, "I don't know..."