Points of Authority Chapter 4: My life my pride is broken, an escaflowne fanfic

Points of Authority

You love the things I say I'll do

The way I'll hurt myself again

Just to get back at you

You take away when I give in

My life

My pride

Is broken

Ayanna contemplated killing Dilandau, and leaving it to be Dillan to keep Aidana in line. But she doubted they had a chance even with Dilandau, and decided to leave him be.

She slammed her palm onto the control for the door to the slayer's quarters. She stalked over to her bed, where she collapsed, yanking Lissa down on her stomach on her own bed, also.

Larissa rubbed her head where it had smacked into the metal lining of her mattress. "What's wrong, Aya?"

Ayanna rubbed her aching head. "One of the prophets decided to be kind enough to tell us Chiyla and Aidana are on their way here, and have been for a week."

Larissa's eyes widened. "They were coming from D'Hara?" Larissa's face contorted into confusion. "But how does that work? The prophets are all on—"

Aya nodded. "—Kirana. That's our problem, Liss. They're coming from Kirana. I demanded to know what Celesi was doing, and the damn fool had no clue where she was."

Larissa smirked. "Probably getting rest from their meddling ways, I would expect."

Ayanna rubbed her temples faster. "That's not the end of it."

Larissa raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" she asked with a lilt to her voice.

Ayanna sighed. "Chiyla left a prophecy."

Larissa sat up, folding her arms, and frowning. "Recite it."

Ayanna reluctantly did so, to prove her point.

You find the situation just a bit uncomfortable

You'd rather stay far away from reality

For you to understand would be clearly impossible

So you shut your eyes and swear you can see

Claiming there is a god, but does that mean anything

So condescending to those that you don't understand

Just too easy to make them your enemies

Like an ostrich, you bury your head in the sand

And then shout about all the things you believe

But if there is a god, don't you think he can see

What you really mean? What you're doing?

Larissa cracked up laughing. "It was an insult, don't you get it?"

Ayanna shook her head, still upset. "It's prophecy, Liss. Pure prophecy. It's predicting an action of Celesi's." Her eyes narrowed. "And the sacrice's."

Larissa swallowed, hard. "How does that indicate me?"

Ayanna shook her head, sitting up. I would have to talk to Celesi. She's forced to study prophecy for days at a time. I would bet she already has it figured out." Ayanna's eyes flashed. "But the only way to contact her would be on Kirana. The prophets would rather destroy their own planet, than let her go."

Dillan tossed a sword onto Larissa's bed, announcing his presence. "Then let's go."

Ayanna glared. "You can't come. Even if I had appointed you councillor—which I can't yet—no one is allowed to go to Kirana except by invitation."

Dillan gave her his trademark smirk. "Then some rules need to be broken today. I'm not letting this go until I figure out what you two were babbling about yesterday."

Larissa smiled gratefully. "If he's the one mentioned—"

Ayanna clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes revealing her readiness to strangle her if she went one word further. "IF he is the one in the original prophecy, you are the sacrifice. I will not accept that!" she hissed.

Larissa shrugged, uncomfortably shifting away from Ayanna. "He's coming, we both know that."

Ayanna moaned, rubbing her head again. "Why me, Jah? Why am I placed with such fools?"

Thunder rumbled, and Ayanna wisely shut her mouth.

Dillan smiled. "So how does it work?"

A stone wall slid back into place. As the grumbling of the rock shook the building, the only occupant of the room winced. Flipping white blonde strands of hair over her shoulders, she hurried into the outer corridor. Clutching the newest prophecy book tightly to her chest, she weaved through the unused containment facility, daintily stepping over the traps intended for intruders or escapees. Gritting her teeth, she saw how easily the first mord sith had escaped so silently, without a warning.

She would have a talk with the keepers of this compound.

But not now. Chiyla had left a puzzling prophecy, more to annoy her than help, she was sure.

Chiyla Nephets was the First Mord Sith of D'Hara, a planet on the galactic council of high standing. Ruled with an iron fist and a velvet glove, Richard Rahl kept everything in line. He had killed nearly everyone of Chiyla's companions when the Mord Sith had escaped to represent the world as a councillor.

Celesi trusted her a distance far closer than she could toss the girl. A Mord Sith was nothing but trouble, and the fact her prison of prophets had her imprisoned here, and let her escape infuriated her. Not only was she kept prisoner here, but others? How many others had been here? She would have a fun time glaring the answer out of the high priest.

Being the lamb about to be cleansed was very frustrating.

Two women in leather curled their lips back into smiles as they saw floating fortresses in the atmosphere of Gaea.

One had raven black hair, cascading over everything in hundreds of braids, reaching her stomach, and the top of her head was not plaited as would be expected, but the braids were started in strategic points, to make a writhed line, which illustrated the woman's name. Her eyes were deptless pools of charcoal and ebony. Her skin was light chocolate. If she was from the Illusionary Moon, she would be called Native American. But she was of High D'Hara. Chiyla Nephets. To die writhing in agony. And that was in the language of the illusionary moon. Her name was uttered in curses in D'Hara.

She was clothed in black dragon armor, covering her. The sleeves were from the maw of a dragon, glistening garnet muscle coming halfway to her elbows. The scales came to right above her chest, and a melding of subtractive magic melted the two together.

The other had dark strawberry blonde hair, which flowed where it wished. At the moment, her eyes were a shade of fushia, as she was excited, but not particularly more cruel or kind, at the moment. Her cruelty turned her eyes to depths of garnet liquid, while her rare moments of kindness turned them to aquamarin pools. Aidana Celosia had changed herself from a lowly child of Zaibachian spies to an ally to a dozen powerful members of the council of the galaxies.

She was also plotting on ruining the council on her next visit.

She wore deep red leather, of a lesser quality—anaconda. Spending decades in the High D'Haran humid environment, the snakes had grown to half the size of dragons on Gaea. She had several as pets, since she had killed their leader, they gave her nothing but praise. She intended on bathing in someone's blood this night.

Aidana nodded to Chiyla.

The First Mord Sith ignored her.

Aidana slammed her heel down on Chiyla's boot.

Chiyla's agiel was pressed against Aidana's cheek.

Chiyla sighed. "And you were so obedient until now. Must we go back to the beginning, Albot?"

Aidana glared. "My face was perfect until today. Why did you mar it, right as we arrive?!"

Chiyla allowed herself a smile. "Because you need something to remember your master by."

Aidana froze. "Remember?"

Chiyla smiled, tossing three grains of sorcerer's sand over herself. "We have business to attend to, Albot. It will be a while before you see me." She ripped her agiel off, and tossed it to Aidana, and disappeared with a shimmer.

Aidana smiled, fingering the leather as it coursed agony through her body. "I will put it to good use, mistress."

She stroked it once more as she slipped the chain around her neck. "Good use."

Folken would feel pain for refusing her as a candidate for the DragonSlayers.

Strategos watched her approach. He remarked to no one in particular, "Does everyone I reject decide to bypass my control?"

A/N: Ok, little note. I like Folken, but Aidana's wearing red leather, and I doubt Dilandau will just fall over and beg to be trained. I hope someone likes this chap, even though it's blowing up into it's own little series. I'll stop now if you'd like? Or does anyone still like this fic, after I butchered it?