Chapter Two: (Seeds and remembrance)

"On dragon wings, your wishes will leap." - Sora, Escaflowne Soundtrack

***

It was after midnight when Hitomi surfaced from the library.

Swinging the oak doors shut behind her, she struggled to balance the armful of books and candle she was carrying.

Wrapping both arms around the stack of texts that ranged in topic from ' Mysterious Creatures of The Floresta Mountains' to ' Rise of the Industrial age : Zaibach's Vision', she balanced her tiny candle on top of the stack.

Waddling awkwardly down the cold, narrow hall Hitomi peeked around her stack of reading material. Larger candles in elegant holders flickered along the wall to her left. She could see the hall was empty except for the suits of armor which stood in a straight row along the opposite wall, their broad breast plates glinting in the murky candlelight. Each Knight held its own weapon, as if prepared for immediate battle. The first carried a mace. Another held a long bow, a quiver strapped to it's shining back. Their invisible faces were masked by grotesque helmets crowned with feathered plumes, which reminded Hitomi of a lions mane.

It felt more than disconcerting as she passed by. She quickened her pace despite her burdens, half expecting a cold metallic hand to close on her shoulder.

Though Palas palace was without a doubt like stepping into a fairy book castle, it was filled with an alien aura. Hitomi felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and decided that this mysterious aura definitely became more intense at night.

Walking as quickly as she could without upsetting her armful of books, Hitomi stopped in the landing of a narrow, winding stair case which led down to her private chambers. The landing was bare except for a small arched window and a painting of a fearsome dragon bursting out of a black, wild sea. Hitomi had studied the painting many times on her trips here and there, and always used it as a way of recognizing the stairwell. She loved the way the dragon's black eyes seemed to follow her as she descended the stairs.

After the past winter, Hitomi had decided with some humble satisfaction that not everything about Gaea scared her anymore. In fact, she was just beginning to feel a sense of gravity within her mind. She'd always thought of her appearance in Gaea as some sort of cosmic accident; like being plucked from the outside and thrust into the midst of a busy painting. But now, things were different. She was trying to deal with the confusion, instead of running from it. Hitomi would have never had the confidence to wander about Palas palace- any palace for that matter - a few months ago. But here she was, standing outside her own private bedroom. Actually, it was more like a giant kitchen with a bedroom thrown in for good measure. Though most with whom she talked to gaped and even gasped when they heard she was staying in the servant's wing, it hadn't crossed Hitomi's mind to be hurt. It was comforting to regain some of her independence and she liked the cozy atmosphere, which was far more enjoyable than shivering away in a more formidable chamber the size of a small soccer field.

Shifting the weight of her night's entertainment in her arms, Hitomi was about to fumble for her key when the door latch lifted, and the dark doorway was flooded with warm light. The smell of something rich and meaty reached her nostrils almost as quickly as a shrill, suspicious voice did.

" And just where have you been at this late hour?? Wandering about the corridors in the dead of night !!"

Her candle was promptly plucked from the top of the mountain of books and a strong arm wrapped itself firmly around Hitomi's shoulders, propelling her inside. Still gaping over the stack of books which reached well past her chin, Hitomi locked eyes with: Tronc.

She was a hunched, craggy woman no taller than a child with sharp black eyes and an even sharper nose. Her mouth was almost feline in appearance, pursed in a scowl, and her cheeks were wrinkled and spotted with white hairs. Though her clothing was in disarray, and nothing seemed to either fit or match, her peppery hair was sleek and tidy. Hitomi nearly lost her composure and giggled at the thought of Tronc cleaning her gleaming hair much like a cat would.

"Well?? Let's see," spat the tiny, grizzled cook disapprovingly as if she were surveying a piece of spoiled meat.

"Books up to your ears and a vacant expression. You've been in the library with him.." Tronc accused, sucking in her cheeks as if the very words tasted sour.

"Dragon's tails girl! All alone, without being properly chaperoned? And with a criminal no less-!"

"He's not a criminal." Hitomi piped over the stack in her arms. So much for privacy. How did Tronc know she had been with Folken? It was eerie, the way the small woman seemed to know her every move.

"Hmm.. found your voice have you?" Tronc replied dryly, ignoring Hitomi's resistance and swiping the books one by one from her aching arms.

"Can't say I find that new development all together comforting. Heaven knows what ideas that lunatic will put in your head! He's not to be trusted, and you'd best remember that! Keeping Zaibach's bloodhound in this very castle- gives me trembles just thinking about it!"

Hitomi's heart fluttered like a startled butterfly. "Do you know where his chambers are?"

Hitomi could have sworn Tronc's weather worn face paled. Setting the books down in a neat pile on a small oak table, she waved exasperatedly for Hitomi to sit down, ignoring her question.

"Well don't just stand there gawking, girl! I've kept your dinner warm again. And you'd better eat every last scrap!"

Hitomi wondered why Tronc hadn't answered her question. The little woman had seemed afraid and nervous, as if Hitomi had reminded her of something lurking unseen in the shadows. Hitomi wished she had the little kitchen all to herself.

Tronc however was the only person willing to offer Hitomi a room. She was grateful, even though the cook had since decided that Hitomi needed watching. Despite her new resolve to be positive, it was difficult when she was continually met with mistrust and even scorn.

Hitomi Kanzaki, from the Mystic Moon? She doesn't look like a goddess if you ask me, with that hair and those skinny legs! How can the King be sure she's even telling the truth!?"

Though King Aston had been very gracious to her, Hitomi sensed he was uneasy. The thought bothered her. She didn't mean anybody any harm, especially a King.

Climbing onto the cold wooden bench which was pushed up to the table, Hitomi clasped her hands in her lap as Tronc busied herself at the hearth. A huge pot was placed on top of a raging fire. It made bubbling noises and it's lid clattered atop the steam that boiled beneath it.

"He's not a lunatic. And any ideas I have in my head are my own, I can assure you."

A steaming bowl was plunked unceremoniously in front of her, and the smell of beef and carrots assaulted Hitomi's nose.

Tronc was mumbling something like "By my whiskers...all alone, it's just not decent..." and after shoving a spoon into Hitomi's hand Tronc spun on her heels and stomped out of the kitchen, banging the door shut.

Hitomi watched her go, imagining a huge bushy tail protruding from her puffy skirt. The image brought a smile to her lips.

Looking down at her dinner, Hitomi considered pouring it back into the bubbling pot. Bits of unrecognizable meat floated in a brown soup that looked like, and had the consistency of gravy.

Hitomi stirred her spoon carefully into the mixture. Tronc wasn't the best cook as far as gourmet cuisine went, and hunger was the last thing on Hitomi's mind at the moment. But she didn't want to hurt Tronc's feelings.

She ate in the silence that can only be heard when everyone else is fast asleep. The only noise was the roaring hearth which scattered sparks of burnt wood onto the stained floor. Hitomi relaxed, slipping back into the comfortable reverie she had grasped before the confrontation with Tronc.

Why does she insist on being two feet away from me at all times, if she doesn't even like me?

Hitomi chewed thoughtfully and cringed because the meat tasted like raw shoe leather.

She wondered if Folken was still awake.

Her face grew warm as she reached for one of the books Tronc had stacked on the opposite end of the table. It had a handsome emerald green cover, with the title : ' Myths of Atlantis' scrolled across it in decorative calligraphy. It had been the first book he'd ever given her.

Folken.

It was an unusual name. Perhaps there was a meaning behind it; something that his parents had had in mind when they named him.

Hitomi had always known her own name meant 'eye'. Her grandmother had chosen it, despite her mothers wish to call her something less obscure. Her grandmother had told her years later that her name was a gift, and it reflected her deepest essence.

She agreed that a name held power. Just thinking Folken's name filled her with warmth, and she found herself glancing around the empty kitchen as if expecting to see his tall frame bent near the hearth, his head nearly brushing the low ceiling.

Hitomi's fingers drew on the books cover absently.

She didn't even know where he slept. If he slept. She hadn't asked him how he'd gotten permission to meet her in the library every day.

He always left at the same time, bowing stiffly but gracefully before disappearing into the dusty shelves, his black note book tucked under his arm. She never saw which direction he took.

It had struck her as surprising that the King would allow Folken free range of the castle, but then again she was sure the King did not want to antagonize him. After all, the King was granting Folken sanctuary from Zaibach, not imprisonment. Folken had made it clear that he wanted to aid the resistance against Zaibach's forces. Asturia and The Strategos had a common goal.

Hitomi grinned to herself, indulgently.

In the past few weeks, she had discovered many things that she and Folken had in common.

History, art. Even if they were speaking about works from two different worlds, Hitomi felt they admired the same quality in things. It was easy to become lost in conversation, and even easier to forget they were different.

He was so calm and controlled. In the darker corners of her mind, Hitomi wondered if that control was his own, or what Zaibach had created.

Instantly, a memory surfaced in her mind. She had been paralyzed with fear. Dragons had let out blood thirsty roars as they passed within an inch of her trembling body. An eye, an enormous red disk stared at her, into her...

She was too terrified to think of dying. The dragon held her with it's penetrating, intelligent stare. Like the violent black sea in her painting she felt the beast's wild rage inside her veins, so deep she thought it would tear her apart. But something held her together. A firm, certain hand. Her vision blurred with tears as she had screamed silently into his palm.

Hitomi shivered despite the warmth of the kitchen as she recalled the way his skin had completely absorbed the sound, leaving no hint of it's intensity in the air.

If she closed her eyes, Hitomi could still feel his presence behind her as he bent to murmur instructions into her ear. She didn't comprehend what it was he'd said at the time, but whatever it was she'd done it without hesitation.

Her mind had reached out to his calm strength instinctively.

'I trusted him. Even though I knew who he was. I felt safe.'

Hitomi was staring absently at the book's green cover, running her fingers across the gold title. He had saved her life. She had never mentioned that day in their discussions, or thanked him.

She'd had plenty of opportunities; the night he first came to Palas, and they'd met in the courtyard. The first time she'd stumbled across him in the library, pouring over a book and he'd modestly offered to tutor her in Gaean languages so she could understand the volumes she clutched. She could have thanked him then for helping her feel more at ease, and giving her back something she sorely missed.

But the moment never seemed to arrive.

Sighing into her palm, Hitomi traced invisible wings along the cover of the book. Another memory flooded into her mind.

His body had looked unnaturally stiff beneath his black cloak, as if his limbs were made of metal beneath it. His face wore an expressionless mask, and his eyes seemed to pin her to the ground. She had held onto Van for dear life, and tried to shut her eyes as they lurched into the air.

The Strategos- Folken had watched them.

Then his black eyes had moved to Van, and she'd seen something flicker there. Sadness? Regret? Anger?

"Nos en val athuul, Vahan!!"

His voice rumbled, floating past the beating of Escaflowne's gigantic wings. Van had tensed within her arms. Then Folken disappeared as they soared higher, his figure lost within a storm of dust.

It had been the first time she'd heard Fanelian.

Van hadn't say a word about the incident.

Hitomi hadn't asked him what Folken had said, though she couldn't help being curious.

He'd sounded so earnest. So different from the detached mechanical way he'd spoken to her.

Despite her best efforts, she caught herself thinking about the way the words had effected Van. He became even more withdrawn and irritable, and barely said a word to her for the next few weeks. Hitomi knew he was struggling with an inner battle.

But to Hitomi, Folken's words had sounded beautiful. Like water trickling down her skin.

She never would have predicted that just three weeks after meeting the feared Strategos, he would be teaching her that very same music.

He'd become less and less mechanical around her since he'd come to stay in Palas. His wide mouth never smiled, but he looked peaceful. As if he'd acknowledged a deep wound and was now determined to offer what ever help he could.

She wished she could stay that resolute.

Instead, she was battling against the constant feeling of being completely lost.

"Fortuu na helh tu bahtue, e daamyn et sul."

The words floated across her mind, like the paper blossoms she had and her grandmother used to drop into the river by her house. Her grandmother had said that the blossoms were now in the hands of fate. The Fanelian words Folken had taught her their very first lesson had translated to :

"If you do not trust the tide, you will never reach the shore."

Hitomi remembered watching his eyes as they had followed the passage, then looked at her. His eyes were not black, like she'd previously thought. They were a deep scarlet. Deeper than the color of blood, but softer than the dragon's piercing red gaze. Before another thought surfaced in her mind, she wondered what he thought of her eyes. It was a silly notion, and she tried to wave it off by flipping open her book of Atlantian myths and focusing on the first page. The book was written in Asturian and although she had already read the book several times, she couldn't make out the first character. Her eyelids were becoming heavier, and she chalked it up to a lack of sleep.

"Torret .. Torret ra .."

Maybe he hadn't even noticed the color of her eyes. They were very murky. Why couldn't she have bright, vivid blue eyes like Princess Millerna?

"Still reading, I see? You'll go blind in this light."

A thick candle was plopped onto the table, flooding Hitomi's eyes with light.

"Aaaa? Tronc?!"

"No need to shout, girl!!"

"I ..." Hitomi stuttered, her cheeks flaming. Regaining her balance on the bench with both hands, a wave of disappointment flooded through her.

Who had I expected?

"I'm sorry, Tronc. You startled me."

"I can see that. Now, you'd best be getting to bed. Its late, you know!"

Hitomi had shuffled half way to the small bedroom she shared with a tiger- sized ginger cat named Griffin, when she realized something. Panic filled her, and before Tronc could protest she was sifting through the large books on the kitchen table.

"Goodness me, girl! Do you ever sleep!?"

Hitomi scanned through the books, but one was missing. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't have lost it!

"Did you see a little black book here??" Hitomi asked hoarsely, the titles blurring slightly as she fought against rising panic.

Tronc puffed herself up, like an aggravated peacock. She resembled one too, in her ribbon infested gown. Tendrils of graying curls protruded from beneath her nightcap.

" 'Little Black book' ? Certainly not. Now, if it's missing we'll find it the morning. You'll need your rest if you plan on going to the bazaar..."

Hitomi's stomach lurched. The bazaar! She'd completely forgotten. She'd promised to go. But she couldn't get any sleep knowing Folken's note book might be lost. It couldn't wait until tomorrow. She needed to find it now.

Grabbing the candle Tronc had left on the table she pulled the door open and banged it shut, cutting off the older woman's irate shout.

"And you'd best stay away from that ... that man and his - !!"

But Hitomi was gone.

A/N: ^_^ Thank you again to all who reviewed! I hope I caught all the 'Palas' mistakes.. ^^;; thanks so much for pointing it out, and for your patience with me.. XD I hope this chapter is a little easier to read now that I revised it! Let me know what you think, it's the only way I'll learn.. ^_^ Rants, suggestions and chocolate are always welcome!