The covered wagon, obviously heavily laden with merchandise from the surrounding areas, creaked through the cobbled streets of Palas, careening around unstably as the aged horse which pulled it ambled inanely forwards. The driver, a gaunt man with glasses perched on the end of his nose, appeared vaguely asleep to those watching from behind their market stalls in the bustling squares and alleyways that characterised the sprawling capital of Asturia, only stirring when the horse strayed too close to the gutters or nearly trampled some poor unsuspecting child beneath its hooves.
The wagon drove on relentlessly, passing through a deserted by way in an attempt to make a short cut to its destination. The sun cast long shadows that loomed on the high walls of the surrounding homes, as the horse gave a half hearted whinny in senile fear.
"Whoa there, Chand," the driver muttered, rubbing at his eyes, "What's wrong here then?"
The driver turned to look behind him to see a swarthy, thick set man standing behind the cart, dressed in a grimy tunic and trousers and idly tossing a knife in one hand. His stance suggested arrogance, though a small twitch below his left eye seemed to betray a slight nervousness, as his free hand lay close to his pocket, ready draw on the daggers which could be seen within, glinting in the sunlight.
"Looks like you've got yourself a fine load there, mister?" the man said, smiling wickedly.
"Exquisite silk, bound for the weaver's stalls. I mean you no harm, sir, please don't intimidate old Chand here," the driver hastily said, glancing at the nervous horse and seeing that three men had appeared in front of the wagon.
"Didn't anyone tell you? King Aston's ordered a new toll system on this road – you've got to pay the price to get through here, of say… half your silk?"
"And if I refuse?"
"Do you know anyone who's refused to pay the toll?"
"I don't think I'll bother thanks. But you can still have my wares!"
The brigands barely had time to be surprised by the driver's sudden backbone before the covering of the wagon was ripped off from the inside to reveal three men, clad in brilliant white shirts with blue jackets and trousers, who leapt off the wagon, drawing their swords from their sheathes and racing for the robbers.
"Ah, Lestine! We meet at last!" one, tall with long blonde hair that cascaded to below his shoulders, shouted as he thrust his sword forth with a twisting motion at the large man who had blocked the return path for the wagon.
"Allen Schezar! So our little scheme won't last much longer – but I'll go down fighting!" Lestine growled with hatred, expertly using his thin knife to block the Knight Caeli's blow and jabbing forward, causing Allen to leap back quickly.
"Marc! Vilisca! Take care of them – I'll deal with Lestine!" he called out to his companions, who were already busy with fighting the other criminals in the alley.
Lestine advanced further forward, with surprising grace given his bulk, throwing a seemingly inexhaustible supply of sharp daggers at Allen, who deflected some with a quick flick of his blade whilst weaving away from the others, although painfully aware that Lestine was forcing him to back up against the cart.
Lestine saw Allen falter for a moment, and seized the opportunity to throw another dagger straight for his throat. Seeing the threat only just in time, Allen ducked to one side to have the knife sheer off a few strands of hair.
"Close," he said, raising his eyebrows in surprise, "but I will bring you to justice!"
Allen tensed himself, then leapt impossible high into the air, flipping backwards to land on the back of the cart once more, readying his sword once again.
Lestine looked impressed. "I didn't realise that the Knights Caeli were so well trained in the art of combat," he said, unconsciously retreating from his opponent, "But your chivalry shall be your undoing, Allen Schezar!"
"On the contrary, my Lord Lestine. Honour is what shall win me this fight – the honour of Asturia."
Lestine growled with anger and sprung at the cart, his knife held at shoulder height ready to stab at Allen. The knight moved back over the wooden planks that supported him, his sword before him braced for the impact.
Leaping heavily onto the cart, Lestine suddenly changed his stance with a swift motion, holding his forward and jabbing quickly at his opponent. Allen, ever the fighter, anticipated the change in tactics, and speedily deflected the blade, his sword glinting in the fresh morning sunlight as a flock of sea gulls wheeled overhead, chattering and calling out to each other.
Lestine was sweating heavily as blow after blow was deflected by Allen's superior swordsmanship, and his arm was beginning to falter. In a last ditch effort, he fumbled in his pocket, searching for another weapon to attack the knight with.
However, Allen's sharp reflexes spotted the movement and, sensing an opening in Lestine's defences, kicked the brigand in the chest in a fluid motion.
Lestine, gasping, fell backwards, tripping over a knothole in the wood. Slipping over and swearing, he struck his head on the planks and fell silent, his head lolling to one side in unconsciousness.
Allen re-sheathed his sword slowly, taking a moment to savour the peaceful atmosphere. The two other knights had made swift work of Lestine's inexperienced lackeys and had chosen to leave them lying in the street until they regained consciousness so they could re-consider their choice of lifestyle. Lestine, however, deserved no such second chance, and Allen bound the brigand's hands with thick rope after checking that there was no excessive damage done to Lestine's skull from the fall.
The wagon driver looked sullen as Allen left a small bag of coins on the cart along with the prone body of Lestine.
"Many thanks for the use of your wagon, sir. Please could you take Lestine to the palace before you continue your journey? Thank you again for your time." Allen bowed courteously to the driver, who merely shrugged nonchalantly and set off once more, cursing Chand as the old horse feebly moved forwards again.
"Another criminal brought to justice, Magister!" Marc, a fourteen year old only recently chosen as a Knight Caeli at the suggestion of the young Duke Chid of Freid who already showed promise with the blade despite the hot-headedness of youth that hampered his progress in the other martial skills, turned with a smile to Allen. "Palas is at least partially safer now!"
"As always, Marc, as always." Allen sighed wistfully, turning his eyes towards the sky resignedly.
"Cheer up, Allen. Shouldn't you be glad that we're no longer at war?" Vilisca, three years older than Allen yet happy to defer to the younger man's superior skill, sat polishing his sword in the middle of the street, looking concernedly at his leader. "You have your sister back, Palas is at peace, and…" Vilisca smirked dirtily, "Princess Millerna is available again…"
"Stop that!" Allen snapped, his normal composure ruffled. "I am in no way interested in the Princess, as lovely as she is."
"Allen Schezar, the knight that every woman in Palas claims to know intimately, ISN'T interested in the Princess of our country that rumour had already…made some progress with you last year?" Vilisca's smirk had grown wider into a grin, as he revelled in the fun he was baiting Allen with.
"I won't have such gossip amongst the Knights Caeli!" Allen turned, his hair flung majestically behind him in indignation, as he began to stride towards the palace and King Aston to report his progress. "Especially during Millerna's absence!"
Vilisca and Marc hung back slightly as they followed, wary of the young man's temper. Allen was lost deep in reflective thought, hardly thinking of the two of them as he considered where his heart truly did lie…
"Magister of the Knights Caeli, do you have any further information regarding the whereabouts of my daughter?" King Aston had lost weight recently, as his baggy clothes, not yet re-tailored to fit, showed, and he chewed at his knuckles with nervousness unbefitting of such a regal figure. His chief advisors stood worriedly at his side for support as Allen knelt before his king, while Eries, his eldest living daughter, stood back behind a pillar to observe the goings-on, un-noticed by all the others present.
"No, Your Majesty. She last reported that she was embarking on a trip to Arzak to establish trade links – she hoped to find new medicines in the jungle there, and gain the co-operation of the lizard shamen who reputedly live therein. However, she has sent no messages recently, and none of the group that travelled with her have returned."
"I cannot lose another daughter!" Aston shouted angrily. Eries drew back from her father, her eyes brimming with tears as she listened.
Allen returned the king's gaze evenly and calmly. "Your Majesty, I don't see why you won't allow me to go and find her. I am willing…"
"What about Celena? She's your only family, you can hardly abandon her. I also don't really see you doing this for the right reasons – I'm aware of what there was between Millerna and yourself."
"That is long in the past, King Aston." Allen looked down at the polished floor of the audience chamber. "I can assure you that my… relationship with Princess Millerna is now over."
"Yet for Celena's sake, I forbid you to go!"
"Celena is not helpless, Your Majesty." Allen spoke sharply. "Her experiences in the War have trained her well – I have reason to believe she is as adept with a sword as any man would be…"
"Any other man, surely?" Aston could barely conceal his anger. "That thing you call a sister needs re-conditioning to adept to life in Asturia – I cannot forgive the atrocities she perpetrated against her own country so easily!"
"Father!" Eries rushed out from the pillar, unable to restrain herself any further. "With all due respect, such bigotry is against what we have stood for!"
"Silence!" Aston roared, sweating heavily. "Such insolence from my own daughter! And you, Magister!" he cried, turning on Allen, his eyes simmering with fury, "You dare to question my authority? You defile the honour of your position and Asturia!"
Allen set his hand at the hilt of his sword unthinkingly, caught up in the heat of the moment. "King Aston!" he shouted threateningly, as courtiers cowered in fear at the scene before them. "You are acting in madness!"
The doors to the audience chamber burst open heavily as Marc
rushed in, tripping slightly over the green carpet that led towards the
throne. Stopping to stare at the scene
in front of him, he took a deep breath before speaking hurriedly.
"Sorry to intrude, Your Majesty, Princess, Magister…
but there's something going on in the courtyard. I think you should come and see…"
Allen turned and ran after Marc through the hallway of the palace, bedecked with elegant marble statues of the serpentine god that watched Palas' harbour, towards the courtyard of the palace, Eries following behind. Aston remained at the throne, his head in his hands in sorrow.
As they reached the courtyard, Allen stopped, and stared up at the sky.
Countless pure white feathers poured down from the sky, cascading down like snowflakes upon the courtyard. As they touched the ground, they flared briefly, before fading away into the air again. The sound of wings flapping gently seemed to echo around Allen, as the gentle fall seemed to become a blizzard, obscuring his vision with the storm of feathers.
As Allen shielded his eyes from the soft onslaught, he though he could make out the forms of people appearing through the shroud of feathers, though they were obscured by the dense clouds. Eventually, the fall began to thin, as feathers shimmered away in the air before reaching the ground.
Marc gasped in surprise to see a group of seven people he had never seen before standing in the middle of the courtyard, with an enormous white Guymelef standing behind them.
Hitomi dropped her arm, then replaced the pendant around her neck. "Looks like we're here, everyone!" she said. She turned towards Allen.
"Allen…I'm back."
"The soft sounds of feathers drifting on a stone floor… a jarring chord of surprise and confusion…an open space, filled with the songs of nature…I know she is there."
"Palas, then. Keep me informed, Sora. Each time you see them, you come closer to meeting them for real – and I know that's what we want. I shall dispatch some messengers to bring them to us now."
"Thank you, master. That is very kind of you."
As the sound of footsteps echoed away from her once more, Sora began to sing once more, the familiar flow of sound re-establishing itself. However, as she began the first syllables of the lyric, she heard a soft, feminine voice chime in her mind.
"Listen…"
Sora gasped, breaking the song before it began. She had never heard a voice in the song before, only the strains of music that could be interpreted as she wished. Cautiously, she began to sing again.
"Listen, child…"
Sora steeled herself, and continued singing, almost defiantly crescendoing to combat the voice.
"Listen, child - the songs of life must be heard as well as sung…"
"How?" Sora challenged the intruder in her mind, staccato notes accentuating her defiance.
"He cannot tell you?" The voice rippled with amusement. "He never did learn about mutual respect."
"Stop that!" Crashing chords underlined the soaring, passionate melody Sora weaved. "Get out of my mind!"
"Very well. Bear my words in mind, though – and I shall be listening to you as always. I would suggest you don't mention this to your master, he probably wouldn't understand. Yet ponder this – think on why you are secluded from that you wish to see – for your sake, or someone else's?"
Sora ended her song triumphantly, belting out the final note as loud as she could to expel the voice from her presence. The sound of hurried footsteps brought her sharply round from her reverie of song, and she composed herself as the footsteps stopped.
"What was that?" The voice whipped harshly through the air, seeming to strike the stones forcibly.
"It was a song of triumph, master."
"Why? Tell me, now!"
"At the prospect of bringing you those you wish for."
The voice paused for a moment, as Sora's heart beat faster. She had never lied to the voice before, nor omitted anything if pressed beyond her usual cryptic replies, and she feared that it would find out and be displeased – she never wanted to do anything that would upset the voice.
"I'm glad to hear it, Sora. Remember to keep me informed of anything which happens, of course."
Sora remained outwardly placid. "Of course, my master."
"The audience chamber is clear – I've drugged Father and taken him to bed. I trust the guards are keeping quiet?" Eries beckoned Allen through into the audience chamber, as the recently arrived party followed through quickly, Celena taking care not to trip over her dress in her haste. Allen and Van heaved the heavy wooden doors shut behind them and barred them to entry, as Yukari and Amano took in their surroundings.
"There's only so much impressive architecture you can see in a day," Yukari remarked dryly as they moved through the arched chamber, "without getting disillusioned by it all."
"Leave off with the wisecracks, Yukari," Amano whispered, "I think we should make sure that no-one pays any attention to us at the moment so we have a hope of staying alive!"
"Find somewhere to sit on the floor," hissed Eries quietly as she took a seat by the throne, Allen standing protectively at her side. "Then we can talk properly about what is happening."
Yukari sat ungracefully on the floor, shifting around slightly as she stared bemusedly at the tall knight. This guy looked exactly like Amano – apart from the long, blonde, slightly effeminate hair and the bizarre clothes, of course. In an attempt to look inconspicuous, she feigned a look of intense interest and worry at the princess standing before her, while keeping her eyes on the mysterious knight so that Amano couldn't see her checking him out.
Van nervously stood up again and began to pace, quickly outlining what had brought them all to Palas, after introducing Asano, Amano and Yukari (who curtsied and giggled, as Amano gave her an extremely strange look).
"Why does peace only seem to bring us further disaster?" Allen thumped his fist on the throne, his eyes ablaze with anger. "Everything still seems unexplained about what is happening now! It seems I must be involved yet again, as the prophecy states – but how can I abandon my country when it mourns the most?"
"What do you mean?" Hitomi worried at the string that held her pendant.
"King Aston is not in his right mind at the moment. His rulings have become erratic and unjust – forgive me, Eries – and he is mad with despair at Millerna's disappearance."
"What?" Celena interrupted sharply. "Princess Millerna's missing?"
Eries stood wearily. "After the destruction of the Atlantis Machine, what remained of Emperor Dornkirk was examined by our doctors – including Millerna. They discovered that Dornkirk's blood had been replaced by some green substance which the captive Zaibach sorcerers had identified as "fortune blood", which may have indirectly caused Folken's death. This blood, as well as prolonging Dornkirk's life well beyond that of most people, had been powering the machines that Zaibach ran on – the elaborate tram systems, the communication globes, and much of the inner workings of the floating fortresses leeched life from Dornkirk's body. Some of you had seen the intricate system of tubes that were connected to Dornkirk – we believe these where what connected him to the systems that ran his empire.
"The upshot of all this was that Zaibach society completely collapsed. Those who had not been involved in the war were left without any provisions for the lives, such had been their dependency on the power Dornkirk had brought them, and were unable to forage for anything themselves – Zaibach had been a barren wasteland long before Dornkirk arrived."
"What has this got to do with Millerna's disappearance?" Celena seemed on edge, glancing towards the door frequently and fidgeting uncomfortably.
"Millerna put an aid program into action, to help restructure Zaibach society so it could function again without Dornkirk. Father wasn't pleased, to say the least – he feared not only for Millerna's safety, but also that any ideas she gave the people of Zaibach might threaten his own rule.
"Of course, Millerna had her way – she escaped on board the Crusade. The restoration of Zaibach was an enormous success, restoring faith in Asturia's benevolence – much to Father's relief. Millerna decided to take on a role as ambassador to those countries that we have little contact with – those at the southern and northern extremities, and the smaller duchies and republics formerly considered to be of no great import to powers such as Asturia. We learnt our lesson from slighting Freid and Fanelia – my sister sought to learn more about the foreign cultures that we have ignored.
"The last we heard, Millerna had decided to head to the south, to the intense jungles of Arzak. Dryden had discovered an ancient text that told of a race of sentient reptiles that lived within, and she wished to contact them and investigate their cultures. However, we've heard nothing for weeks – and Father has already assumed the worst."
"Where is Dryden?" Van looked thoughtful, his brow furrowed. "Surely he can show us where she went!"
"Dryden's father passed away about two months ago. Meiden was never close to his son, and Dryden didn't seem to express much concern about it despite the sudden nature of his illness, but shortly afterwards he walked out of a merchant's meeting and left Palas, saying that he was heading out to find his wife. Millerna and Dryden have never formally divorced, and he was reportedly concerned at her disappearance."
"Damn it!" Van stopped pacing, and turned to Eries. "We have to find them both!"
"How do you propose we do that?" Eries threw up her hands in exasperation, falling back onto the throne. "We cannot mine levistones fast enough to power any kind of airships for transport, and what links we have to the Melef manufacturers are hardly helping – we cannot contact Yspano by ourselves, and the Wise Ones of Velfrecht refused to help us. Our rudimentary skills at machine construction cannot hope to utilise the power of Energists effectively enough to mount a further effective expedition. "
"The dragons are currently under your protection, Van." Allen was leaning forward on the back of King Aston's throne, his chin resting on his hands. "There is no chance of us mustering a greater force of Melefs to combat these Atlanteans than that which is stationed here in Palas – and I am loath to commit them against an unknown force when the capital itself is hardly free of crime. Could we use such beasts for an expedition?"
"It's unlikely." Van scratched at his nose thoughtfully. "Fanelia protects the dragons, and they protect us, but we have little control over them – they are more difficult to tame than to kill. Anyway, only the land dragons inhabit the Valley – to reach Arzak will involve crossing the Sea of Asta, and we'd need control of either the water or sky dragons if there were to be any hope of us making headway towards the south. Escaflowne can only carry three people at most, and even then only intimately."
"Then there's the matter of finding Dryden – if he is indeed this Fox character you speak of. What of these winged women also?"
"They have powers over fate," Hitomi said, "but not like my pendant. Like the Fortune Blood, they seem to be able to choose possibilities – Van couldn't hit them with his sword, and only through utter chance did we have any hope of beating them. I thought that the Atlanteans were wiped out by some disaster involving the creation of Gaia thousands of years ago?"
"I, too, believed there to be no remnant of the Atlantean race – save for Van's Draconian blood." Allen looked thoughtful. "In the Mystic Valley, we saw no possibility of life remaining in the ruins of Atlantis. This is extremely puzzling."
"This story of Atlantis sounds strange anyway." Asano spoke suddenly, stimulated by curiosity. "Forgive me, but on the Mystic Moon, we are taught that Atlantis was a legendary civilisation that probably never existed, that sunk beneath the ocean waves due to a terrible natural disaster of some kind, like an earthquake or volcanic eruption. There's not a single record of winged people creating new planets there at all."
"Time's inexorable passage will undoubtedly cause the fanciful to fade into folklore, young man." Eries looked stern. "Do not belittle our history – for we have many records dedicated to Atlantis. We believed that all those from the Mystic Moon were hideous monsters – for those are what our records tell us, not of humans with strange clothes."
"We're wasting time here!" Celena was indignant. "We've got to get moving somewhere – otherwise Palas will be in danger!"
Hitomi's eyes widened as the familiar chime tolled in her mind. The room around her seemed to melt away, as blood-red feathers rained around her once more and the cacophonic laughter of Leah sounded in her mind. Hitomi tried to break the vision, but was confronted with a blizzard of feathers which, upon examination, were not red in colour, but coated in blood…
Merle shook Hitomi out of her reverie quickly. "I won't bother asking," she mewed pitifully, looking up at Allen, "as I think we know what's going to happen. How can we get out?"
Van turned swiftly, and sprinted towards the great doorway. "I'll hold them off!" he shouted behind him as he heaved the doors open once more before disappearing down the corridor.
"Wait, Van!" Allen shouted after him. "Don't be so foolish! You are helpless against them!" His cry echoed down the hallway, but no response came.
Allen turned back to the others. "I must help him, rash as his actions are, and unbecoming of one in his position. You two, "he said, pointing at Amano and Asano, "come with me. We must protect the castle in any way possible."
"What am I supposed to do?" Amano was scared – he had no idea what the tall blonde knight could want with him, and he desperately wanted to go home. "I have no skill at anything useful!"
"Don't worry, Amano!" Asano looked grimly cheerful. "I'm sure you'll manage somehow. We'd better do the best we can anyway – or do you want to die here?"
Allen strode purposefully to an arch towards the western wall of the audience chamber. "We'll talk on the way – I must prepare Scherezade."
"I'm coming too!" Merle and Celena spoke in unison.
"Don't be foolish! Your skill with the sword may be phenomenal, sister, but I cannot endanger you here. You, Merle, should know better than to expose yourself in such circumstances!"
An enormous crashing sound burst into the room, shaking the foundations of the building. The three young men regained their balance and headed away, Amano looking back in concern towards Yukari as they disappeared.
"I guess we had better just stay out of the way for now, then?" Yukari looked around. "Where can we go?"
"We should help!" Celena was obstinate. "We can't just run away like we are completely useless!"
"Lord Van!" Merle licked her hand, staring towards the source of the noise with tearful eyes.
"The best use we can be right now is not in the way. I am…more forgiving than most concerning your situation, Celena, and these new circumstances do not change my feelings." Eries' eyes softened. "Nevertheless, if Dilandau is unpredictable, he can be of no use now from what you have told me. Our priority is to protect Hitomi and her friends for now. We can use the spies' passageways to escape outside – we'll see what we can do for them then." Eries pressed a small panel in the wall behind the throne, and the stone ground away almost silently to reveal a set of dark steps leading downwards into the depths of the palace, dust clouds quickly dispersing in the gloom. Beckoning sharply, the Princess disappeared swiftly into the darkness .
"Van…" Hitomi looked back towards the doors as she hurried away to the labyrinthine corridors and her escape route.
"Where is she?" Leah snarled viciously, her head unmoving as she hovered in mid-air, beating her blood-red wings in time with the sharp pulses of light emitting from her necklace. Her blinded eyes were covered by a delicate black cloth, yet she confidentally aimed blasts of lightning towards the courtyard beneath her from her fingertips. The smoking remains of the Palas guards who had deigned to resist the Atlanteans lay on the floor, steam rising from their charred bodies as the pelting rain which unexpectedly raged around the winged invaders struck the as yet uncooled corpses. One Atlantean held a swordsman in the air with the force of her mind, limbs flailing wildly as she slowly crushed his throat, his compatriots staring unseeingly from below in decaying horror. Scorch marks marred the glorious architecture, while the fountains that cornered the courtyard crackled with dancing arcs of electricity that seemed to leap to the boiling clouds above. The dull leather covering used to conceal Escaflowne blazed ferociously, falling in wasted tatters around the Guymelef to expose the unsullied white armour beneath, its cloak somehow still untorn.
"Leah, we cannot sense her. As far as we can see, she is not here." The voice of one of Leah's senior Atlanteans, named Marta, echoed through the winged woman's mind. "The flows of her companions are all around, and lead inside the great doors. Yet they are now faint, and lead in myriad diverse directions – she is lost to our senses now."
"You fools!" Leah snapped mentally, causing Marta to wince in psychic pain. "I shall find her myself!"
Marta sighed in disappointment as she severed contact with her leader. For as long as she could recall Leah had been consumed by an overriding passion to carry out any order at whatever cost. Only Leah was privy to the commands of Venal, and as the leader of the group – the word "flock" sprang to mind, but Marta found it animalistic and brutal – she dictated their actions. Marta herself was not overtly enamoured of the tasks Venal set them. She took as little part in the raids as possible, save for carrying out her primary objective – to find the Wing Goddess.
Marta did not know what this Wing Goddess meant to Venal. All she had been told was that Venal wanted her brought to him alive. There was obviously something special about the girl Leah had identified as the Goddess – she had blinded Leah after all, and Marta could not divine her course of fate, the one unshakeable constant she believed in save the need to obey Venal.
Marta had not told Leah of the two young humans that had been with the Wing Goddess that day, who had accompanied the one that had summoned the waters which had seared Marta's soul. She did not think that Leah had noticed that they, too, had no course of fate – after all, they had proved no resistance to the power of Atlantis' people, and she hardly needed to worry about them at this juncture as the Wing Goddess evaded their capture once more.
Leah laughed madly, a deep chuckled that chilled Marta. "She is nearby – I feel the course of one with her! Destroy the palace – rend it asunder by your wills, my sisters, in the name of Venal!" And this time, you shall not stop us, foolish one!" As she spoke, Leah pointed straight at the wall of the courtyard, to where Van was running towards Escaflowne. As Van sped on, believing himself to be unnoticed, a single bolt of lightning shot from Leah's outstretched finger, splitting the air asunder as it sped inexorably towards its fleeing target, Leah's triumphant laughter pealing demonically as she felt the fate of triumph wash over her.