Alright, the plot's gonna start picking up here. I'll try anyhow. If
anyone has any suggestions or comments about my writing style or the story
itself go ahead and let me know. But please no flames, this is my first
Esca fic. Chapters might come a little slow though, very tired lately.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Escaflowne or its characters, so don't sue my broke ass!
............................................................................ ............................................................................ .......................................
Chapter 4 : Flight to Nowhere
Naria stopped suddenly and held out her hand to alert her twin. Her large ears twitched as she struggled to focus in on what ever was making the dim scratching she had picked up. They had made it to where their guymelefs were almost completely unnoticed, but the sound troubled her. It was emanating from down the hall.
"I hear it too, sister." Eriya hissed in her ear. "Hurry, and lets get inside; Lord Folken said to avoid being seen."
Naria carefully slid the door open and the twins slipped in undetected and quickly closed the door. Moments later a hunched over figure clothed in deepest crimson came slinking past the very spot where they had stood; his sword held straight out with taut muscles of his arms and occasionally scraping the walls as he swayed from side to side.
"Fooolkeeeen..." The name hissed out with breath that was heavy with the scent of wine. He cackled softly to himself as the world spun before his glazed eyes. He sheathed his sword and continued down the hall, laughing hysterically; but his laughter carried no warmth.
............................................................................ ............................................................................ .......................................
Folken stared fixatedly at the alsiedes towering before him, his brow furrowed deeply. In the present low light, the guymelef had taken on the look of a demon shrouded in red. It seemed to mock him standing there in all of its glory; offering visual proof that his only true homeland had been to weak to match its greatness.
He pulled back the hood of his cape and sighed quietly. Hesitating now would be fool hearty; and he hadn't time to spend mulling over the situation. He stepped up to the melef pressed a few buttons, and waited for the hatch to open. The hatch popped open with a hiss and slid quietly to a stop on its hinges.
He walked quickly to one of the Hangar's main control panels and pulled to switch that would open the hanger door and sprinted back to the waiting guymelef, pulling himself up and inside in one swift movement.
As soon as the hatch was closed he latched himself in, a look of complete resolve crossed his shadowed face. Fate had chosen this destiny for him, and he would comply.
The hangar door rolled open, retracting with a loud menagerie of mechanical groans, clicks, and a grating that sent vibrations through the floor of the hangar itself.
"No doubt the guards will be here any moment to check out the source of the disturbance." Folken sighed and pursed his lips stubbornly. "No more hesitation."
He then made his way to the hangar's now open door, the suit feeling heavy and awkward about him. It had been quite some time since he actually piloted one of them. He stared down at the distant treetops below the Vione's floating mass, their leaves bathed in purest sliver by the moon's light. The world seemed to have gone cold with the fall of night, all color was drained from the land and a gusty wind pushed against the Alsiedes nearly throwing him off balance. He could feel it rush over his skin even from within the over-sized suit of armor.
He began to whistle quietly to himself, a song of his youth, a song his mother had sung to him as a child. Her gentle voice echoed through his mind as the melody flowed through his lips, and he felt himself falling. He could feel gravity beckoning him downward, could see the ground fast approaching, and yet he made no move to convert the melef to fight mode.
He eyes widened and his primal urge to survive got the better of him as he pulled the lever and sailed easily over the tops of the trees, the bottom of the suit nearly scraping their highest branches. Death had been close, but it phased him not. Death placed no fear in him, in his soul that had lost reason for that fear so long ago. Death was simply a pleasure he could not afford, not yet
Folken searched the forest for a clearing, found one, and landed roughly in a tangle of thick undergrowth. It would be harder to spot him if he traveled on foot. He just couldn't stand to be inside the cursed war tool any longer, not inside the metal monster who not so long ago could have been caked in his brother's blood.
It was cool enough that eve to send goose bumps prickling their way up his arm and chest, even through his heavy black cloak. A night bird called out forlornly from a nearby branch, its song wilting and wild. Folken could see another break in the trees about 50 yards away; a path that had fallen into disuse.
He stepped on the forest trail, unstrapped the staff he had placed on his pack, and with a heavy heart, began his journey to a land that was no more; a flight to no where.
............................................................................ ............................................................................ .......................................
Oye, sorry if that took a long time. I've been feeling sick lately. Don't forget to review!
.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Escaflowne or its characters, so don't sue my broke ass!
............................................................................ ............................................................................ .......................................
Chapter 4 : Flight to Nowhere
Naria stopped suddenly and held out her hand to alert her twin. Her large ears twitched as she struggled to focus in on what ever was making the dim scratching she had picked up. They had made it to where their guymelefs were almost completely unnoticed, but the sound troubled her. It was emanating from down the hall.
"I hear it too, sister." Eriya hissed in her ear. "Hurry, and lets get inside; Lord Folken said to avoid being seen."
Naria carefully slid the door open and the twins slipped in undetected and quickly closed the door. Moments later a hunched over figure clothed in deepest crimson came slinking past the very spot where they had stood; his sword held straight out with taut muscles of his arms and occasionally scraping the walls as he swayed from side to side.
"Fooolkeeeen..." The name hissed out with breath that was heavy with the scent of wine. He cackled softly to himself as the world spun before his glazed eyes. He sheathed his sword and continued down the hall, laughing hysterically; but his laughter carried no warmth.
............................................................................ ............................................................................ .......................................
Folken stared fixatedly at the alsiedes towering before him, his brow furrowed deeply. In the present low light, the guymelef had taken on the look of a demon shrouded in red. It seemed to mock him standing there in all of its glory; offering visual proof that his only true homeland had been to weak to match its greatness.
He pulled back the hood of his cape and sighed quietly. Hesitating now would be fool hearty; and he hadn't time to spend mulling over the situation. He stepped up to the melef pressed a few buttons, and waited for the hatch to open. The hatch popped open with a hiss and slid quietly to a stop on its hinges.
He walked quickly to one of the Hangar's main control panels and pulled to switch that would open the hanger door and sprinted back to the waiting guymelef, pulling himself up and inside in one swift movement.
As soon as the hatch was closed he latched himself in, a look of complete resolve crossed his shadowed face. Fate had chosen this destiny for him, and he would comply.
The hangar door rolled open, retracting with a loud menagerie of mechanical groans, clicks, and a grating that sent vibrations through the floor of the hangar itself.
"No doubt the guards will be here any moment to check out the source of the disturbance." Folken sighed and pursed his lips stubbornly. "No more hesitation."
He then made his way to the hangar's now open door, the suit feeling heavy and awkward about him. It had been quite some time since he actually piloted one of them. He stared down at the distant treetops below the Vione's floating mass, their leaves bathed in purest sliver by the moon's light. The world seemed to have gone cold with the fall of night, all color was drained from the land and a gusty wind pushed against the Alsiedes nearly throwing him off balance. He could feel it rush over his skin even from within the over-sized suit of armor.
He began to whistle quietly to himself, a song of his youth, a song his mother had sung to him as a child. Her gentle voice echoed through his mind as the melody flowed through his lips, and he felt himself falling. He could feel gravity beckoning him downward, could see the ground fast approaching, and yet he made no move to convert the melef to fight mode.
He eyes widened and his primal urge to survive got the better of him as he pulled the lever and sailed easily over the tops of the trees, the bottom of the suit nearly scraping their highest branches. Death had been close, but it phased him not. Death placed no fear in him, in his soul that had lost reason for that fear so long ago. Death was simply a pleasure he could not afford, not yet
Folken searched the forest for a clearing, found one, and landed roughly in a tangle of thick undergrowth. It would be harder to spot him if he traveled on foot. He just couldn't stand to be inside the cursed war tool any longer, not inside the metal monster who not so long ago could have been caked in his brother's blood.
It was cool enough that eve to send goose bumps prickling their way up his arm and chest, even through his heavy black cloak. A night bird called out forlornly from a nearby branch, its song wilting and wild. Folken could see another break in the trees about 50 yards away; a path that had fallen into disuse.
He stepped on the forest trail, unstrapped the staff he had placed on his pack, and with a heavy heart, began his journey to a land that was no more; a flight to no where.
............................................................................ ............................................................................ .......................................
Oye, sorry if that took a long time. I've been feeling sick lately. Don't forget to review!
.