Asturia: Calm after the storm?
Van Fanel, boy king of Fanelia, walked across the grass towards were Escaflowne was being kept. By order of Dryden he would deactivate his most valued ally in the fight against darkness. Since King Aston had become "Unwell" things had gone from bad to worse. It had started when Dryden had cut of all aid in the rebuilding of Fanelia and it probably wouldn't end on this sunny evening. The grass was still damp under Van's feet from this morning's rain and it added to the slothfulness of Van's progress.
From a high window Allen Schezar watched Van's slow progress in the failing light. He smiled remembering all that had happened during, what would go down in history as the "War of Fate". He smile was replaced by a frown, a tax on guymelefs? Had Dryden really lost it? Allen returned his thoughts to the young king (who had by some miracle reached the barn) Dryden cutting of aid had hit him hard, and for some reason he seemed to think Allen was partly to blame. He avoided most Asturians, not just Allen and the Crusaders. He avoided most everyone.
Hitomi ran across the wet grass. By the time she reached Van she was panting. The sound of her breathing caught Van's attention, he span round and found her staring at him with a look that would have halted Dilandau's destructive rage.
"No!" Hitomi's voice cut through the humid evening air. " If you deactivate Escaflowne you'll, you'll...."
" Hitomi?" When was the last time he had seen her? He felt strangely guilty. He couldn't remember. He had his own problems admittedly but, he had no excuse for ignoring her.
" Deactivate your self!" She managed say; just holding back tears which threatened to destroy her words.
"I know that, but with no aid what hope do we have?" Van's voice was just sad, betraying nothing of the fear he must have felt.
Allen gazed at them knowing nothing of their conflict. He did know that a weight of unsaid words hung over there every second together. He said a prayer for them in his heart, hoping one day they would be at peace.
It really was a beautiful evening. He sighed, once he would have been out with a sweetheart. Picking flowers and telling her she was the one, but not to day. For once women were the last things on his mind.
"Sir, you haven't done any training for about three months!"
"What's it to you?" Allen was surprisingly sore on the subject. Forgetting for once to be a gentleman.
"Huh?"
"Oh, I am sorry, Emma!" He smiled "I assumed you were a crusader..."
Emma was a Fanelian maid, who had attend to the royal family of Fanelia for quite a while. She was on first name terms with most every one and always seemed to be right, which apart from annoying everyone was largely useless as no one listened to her. More importantly she hated Allen and he knew it. Her favour with Van prevented him from doing anything, so they had reached a kind of uneasy truce. What she was doing in his room he couldn't quite grasp and he was positive he had locked the door.
Unlike most maids she didn't seem over awed by most of the rooms
in the palace, and this one was very fine. A deep expensive carpet, smooth mahogany features and wonderful paintings depicting the great kings of Asturia (and Dryden). She didn't even turn a hair.
Allen began to walk off.
She said something to him, he didn't hear.
She sighed.
Allen could do what he liked. Zaibach would attack again, she supposed and yet again Van and Allen would be the only force against the destruction of Gaea. We can't, after all have the king of Fanelia injured because of Austrian Incompetence now, can we Dryden?
"Baka!" Shesta flew across the room after an all too common punch from his commander. He hit the wall hard and began to wonder what he'd done this time.
"Where is he?" Dilandau's angry voice cut through his thoughts.
"Sir, do you mean Hiro?" Shesta prayed he was right, he didn't like to think about what would happen if he wasn't.
"Of course, who else could I mean? Baka!" Dilandau picked him up, his entire expression face portraying his obvious rage.
" Where is he?"
" Dilandau-sama, I-I don't know, Sir" His commander threw him to the ground, sneering at his uselessness, then he just turned away, staring at the walls. The room was plain and windowless, all the light came from a liner arrangement of strip lights on the ceiling (So who knows what he what staring at). It smelt of oil, metal and death.
Foot steps clunked on the metal floor as the blacked cloaked form of Folken entered the Guymelf hanger. He smiled; those Dragonslayers took an awful lot of crap. It seemed that, despite the way he treated them they really did like their violent commander. He certainly liked them, when they died...well it didn't bear thinking about.
" Marvaie err, discharged him last night " Folken stepped out of the shadows and delivered the bad news with the swiftness of one who doesn't care much for human pain. He had never liked Dilandau. He was uncontrollable, impulsive and quite literally hot-headed. A striking contrast to the cool, calculating stratgoes.
" And why wasn't I informed? " Shesta took the opportunity to crawl away in to a dark corner. He would have got away with it if the black caped senior officer hadn't noticed his attempted retreat across the cold metal floor. Dilandau turned around and noticed the mans retreat
" Shesta! Come back here you baka! " Shesta crawled slowly back, as he stood up the pain he felt was written all over his face.
" It didn't seem important, after the Kestrels were disbanded I assumed that out would have fallen out of contact I didn't realise that you would have wanted to know, now clam down Dilandau! "
What a lie! How could he not have known? The day Marvaie disbanded the Kestrels, Zaibach elite kite pilots she had made her self-lots of enemies. Powerful ones. The Dragonslayers and the Kestrels had often worked together, now it looked like they would be working to destroy her, whether they were disbanded or not . This now seemed strange to Folken, considering the fact he Dragonslayers had no need of back up.
" What incompetence!, I can't take this any more!" The pale man ran across the room and out of the hanger. Could this be the last straw for that man ? Folken wondered as he rolled a Victory cigarette, he leaned against the wall, trying to keep the tobacco in the paper tube, inhaling the weak acidic fumes
" Dilandau-Sama, Dilandau-Sama? Dilandau-Sama, Dilandau-Sama, Lord Dilandau? " Shesta's voice rang out through the metal building as the stratgoes indulged in one of his numerous vices. His voice slowly rose to a yell, before he fell to the floor in agony and exhausted.
Dilandau-Sama lay on his bed with his eyes half closed, as the effects a bottle of Victory Gin took effect (The "Gin" its self was a nasty smelling, oily substance). He wanted Hiro to come in and tell him he was a baka, that he was drunk or hit him and tell him that it was time for an attack. Anything but this ! A obligatory picture of Marvaie stared at him form the far wall, fighting the effects of the alcohol he stood up slowly and ripped it down before collapsing, sobbing and wondering: why do they all leave? Why do they all die? Why am I so very, very alone?
