Once again with the disclaimers. Fanfiction means that I don't own any of
the characters or the show or that. FANfiction get it? Like, I'm a fan
and I'm writing a fiction. Okay now I'm done.
The Healing of the Angels Part 4
Dilandau's skin itched with impatience. He couldn't stand just waiting for something to pop into his head. He needed a plan. I need Dornkirk DAMMIT!
Dilandau was smart enough to know that he couldn't just walk into Fanelia with a lighter, but he couldn't think of a plan either. I need some inspiration. Dornkirk and Folken had been the ones who came up with the major plans. He was a fair enough strategist, but his mind worked moment- to-moment not long term. As much as he hated to admit it he had just been the hand wielding the sword (or in his case the blowtorch).
And what the Hell had happened anyway? He felt...different. He had awoken at twilight last night to find himself in the middle of a forest in a peasant's brown pants and green tunic. Where was his uniform? Where was his Alseides unit? Where was HE?
Dilandau didn't have a single weapon. This bothered him greatly. What if he came upon some one in the forest? He would just have to obtain the information he wanted with his bare hands and pure intimidation.
He put a finger to his chin and smiled deviously. Perhaps my reputation proceeds me? Forest dwellers have probably never seen any kind of warrior. He could get by without a problem. He could get food shelter and entertainment all from the same household if he could find the right one...
* * *
THIS IS IT! He'd been wandering around in the woods for what had to be hours and he hadn't come upon even one settlement. He couldn't believe his bad luck. On top of that his stomach was demanding food loudly and painfully. After his stomach growled for the fifth time he sat down for a bit, afraid that the loud noise would attract large unfriendly creatures.
His mind swirled wildly with questions, getting angrier with each step. If he had had a sword he would have butchered something by now. His hands were balled into fists and he was on the verge of a major mental breakdown.
Then a strange light came down from the sky, like he was in one of those corny stories where an angel descends from above to tell him the error of his ways. Ironically enough an "angel" did descend from above but it hadn't come to tell him the error of his ways. Quite the opposite in fact.
Dilandau, still in his haze of rage, grabbed the first thing that came to hand (which happened to be a large stick) and rushed the Riyujinbito man, determined to tear out his entrails with his bare hands.
Unfortunately the young man had been expecting this and at the last minute he jumped into the air and flew out of Dilandau's range. The young man looked highly amused at Dilandau's irrational rage and fruitless attack. Dilandau was not happy about his expression, especially since his shoulders were obviously shaking with silent laughter.
"What do you WANT?!" Dilandau screamed in frustration.
"Maybe I won't tell you if I can't even trust you enough to stay on the ground," at this the man looked at his nails with an extremely smug attitude.
Dilandau screamed in rage, then slowly took a few breaths and waited for his cool calculating attitude to return to him. After several long minutes of silence he spoke. "I would never attack you...if you had anything useful to tell me."
"Good. I assure you I have very important things to tell you about. Let's talk about Dornkirk. You want him back I can tell you how. Interested?"
Dilandau considered this for a moment. He is helping me but he has not said what I must do for him. Good Samaritans do not exist. Where then is the trick?
"There is none. By bringing Dornkirk back from his death you help us at the same time," and the young man no longer looked or sounded remotely amused. He was dead serious and he looked very imposing, flying 5 feet above Dilandau's head, and still suspended within the beam of light. He could swear he remembered that light. First on his mind now, however, was just how the man had known exactly what Dilandau had been thinking.
"Do you want to know how to resurrect Dornkirk or not? We don't have all day!"
Dilandau lowered the stick which he had been holding like a sword and curled his lip in irritation at his helplessness. "How then?"
* * *
Van sat at his desk going through the usual business of the day. Every morning at 8:00am he sat in this stuffy room listening to his advisor lay out the agenda for the day, charting the progress of the reconstruction project, and updating King Van on the actions of his enemies and his friends. One of the philosophies Van had developed; knowledge keeps you alive and prospering.
It promised to be an average day. The construction was going very well, his kingdom was peaceful, and he was miserable.
He'd been having that feeling lately. It was like something important was about to happen and he was helpless to stop it. Not to mention the strange dream he had been having.
He gripped the side of the chair as the memory of the dream came to him unbidden. He was in the forest surrounded by fog so thick he couldn't even see his hand in front of him. A disembodied voice called to him. "Van! They are coming Van. Beware of them for I can't help you fight them. Old enemies will arise and their mission is the same. I will send help to you. Be careful Van." As the words faded, a Riyujinbito man laughed, spreading his wings, he flew above the screaming people of Gaea spread his arms and fire rained down from the sky.
He felt the arm of the chair snap as his grip became too much for it to bear. His advisor closed the scroll he had been reading and looked at the King questioningly.
"Van-sama?"
Van looked up. It's nothing, continue." He waved his hand to punctuate his words. The advisor hesitantly opened the scroll and began reading again. Suddenly he closed it again.
"Gomen nasai Van-sama, but I think I'm coming down with something. Perhaps this business can wait 'til tomorrow?" His advisor looked exhausted and slightly green. Van marveled at his ability to look so convincingly sick on such short notice. He realized immediately that his advisor was offering him a way out without having to take responsibility for it and gratefully he took it.
"You are dismissed for the day then. No one can work well when they're sick," Van said standing and to his advisor's surprise shaking his hand. He headed to his favorite place in the castle: the North Tower. It was said to be the highest point in the city, and that suited his needs admirably.
When he reached the tower he just stood against the railing, letting his troubled thoughts be carried away by the wind.
The Healing of the Angels Part 4
Dilandau's skin itched with impatience. He couldn't stand just waiting for something to pop into his head. He needed a plan. I need Dornkirk DAMMIT!
Dilandau was smart enough to know that he couldn't just walk into Fanelia with a lighter, but he couldn't think of a plan either. I need some inspiration. Dornkirk and Folken had been the ones who came up with the major plans. He was a fair enough strategist, but his mind worked moment- to-moment not long term. As much as he hated to admit it he had just been the hand wielding the sword (or in his case the blowtorch).
And what the Hell had happened anyway? He felt...different. He had awoken at twilight last night to find himself in the middle of a forest in a peasant's brown pants and green tunic. Where was his uniform? Where was his Alseides unit? Where was HE?
Dilandau didn't have a single weapon. This bothered him greatly. What if he came upon some one in the forest? He would just have to obtain the information he wanted with his bare hands and pure intimidation.
He put a finger to his chin and smiled deviously. Perhaps my reputation proceeds me? Forest dwellers have probably never seen any kind of warrior. He could get by without a problem. He could get food shelter and entertainment all from the same household if he could find the right one...
* * *
THIS IS IT! He'd been wandering around in the woods for what had to be hours and he hadn't come upon even one settlement. He couldn't believe his bad luck. On top of that his stomach was demanding food loudly and painfully. After his stomach growled for the fifth time he sat down for a bit, afraid that the loud noise would attract large unfriendly creatures.
His mind swirled wildly with questions, getting angrier with each step. If he had had a sword he would have butchered something by now. His hands were balled into fists and he was on the verge of a major mental breakdown.
Then a strange light came down from the sky, like he was in one of those corny stories where an angel descends from above to tell him the error of his ways. Ironically enough an "angel" did descend from above but it hadn't come to tell him the error of his ways. Quite the opposite in fact.
Dilandau, still in his haze of rage, grabbed the first thing that came to hand (which happened to be a large stick) and rushed the Riyujinbito man, determined to tear out his entrails with his bare hands.
Unfortunately the young man had been expecting this and at the last minute he jumped into the air and flew out of Dilandau's range. The young man looked highly amused at Dilandau's irrational rage and fruitless attack. Dilandau was not happy about his expression, especially since his shoulders were obviously shaking with silent laughter.
"What do you WANT?!" Dilandau screamed in frustration.
"Maybe I won't tell you if I can't even trust you enough to stay on the ground," at this the man looked at his nails with an extremely smug attitude.
Dilandau screamed in rage, then slowly took a few breaths and waited for his cool calculating attitude to return to him. After several long minutes of silence he spoke. "I would never attack you...if you had anything useful to tell me."
"Good. I assure you I have very important things to tell you about. Let's talk about Dornkirk. You want him back I can tell you how. Interested?"
Dilandau considered this for a moment. He is helping me but he has not said what I must do for him. Good Samaritans do not exist. Where then is the trick?
"There is none. By bringing Dornkirk back from his death you help us at the same time," and the young man no longer looked or sounded remotely amused. He was dead serious and he looked very imposing, flying 5 feet above Dilandau's head, and still suspended within the beam of light. He could swear he remembered that light. First on his mind now, however, was just how the man had known exactly what Dilandau had been thinking.
"Do you want to know how to resurrect Dornkirk or not? We don't have all day!"
Dilandau lowered the stick which he had been holding like a sword and curled his lip in irritation at his helplessness. "How then?"
* * *
Van sat at his desk going through the usual business of the day. Every morning at 8:00am he sat in this stuffy room listening to his advisor lay out the agenda for the day, charting the progress of the reconstruction project, and updating King Van on the actions of his enemies and his friends. One of the philosophies Van had developed; knowledge keeps you alive and prospering.
It promised to be an average day. The construction was going very well, his kingdom was peaceful, and he was miserable.
He'd been having that feeling lately. It was like something important was about to happen and he was helpless to stop it. Not to mention the strange dream he had been having.
He gripped the side of the chair as the memory of the dream came to him unbidden. He was in the forest surrounded by fog so thick he couldn't even see his hand in front of him. A disembodied voice called to him. "Van! They are coming Van. Beware of them for I can't help you fight them. Old enemies will arise and their mission is the same. I will send help to you. Be careful Van." As the words faded, a Riyujinbito man laughed, spreading his wings, he flew above the screaming people of Gaea spread his arms and fire rained down from the sky.
He felt the arm of the chair snap as his grip became too much for it to bear. His advisor closed the scroll he had been reading and looked at the King questioningly.
"Van-sama?"
Van looked up. It's nothing, continue." He waved his hand to punctuate his words. The advisor hesitantly opened the scroll and began reading again. Suddenly he closed it again.
"Gomen nasai Van-sama, but I think I'm coming down with something. Perhaps this business can wait 'til tomorrow?" His advisor looked exhausted and slightly green. Van marveled at his ability to look so convincingly sick on such short notice. He realized immediately that his advisor was offering him a way out without having to take responsibility for it and gratefully he took it.
"You are dismissed for the day then. No one can work well when they're sick," Van said standing and to his advisor's surprise shaking his hand. He headed to his favorite place in the castle: the North Tower. It was said to be the highest point in the city, and that suited his needs admirably.
When he reached the tower he just stood against the railing, letting his troubled thoughts be carried away by the wind.