Chapter 9, I'm really sad that I'm going to have to end this! I've become so in love with this story and tormenting Dilandau and stuff . . . kinda. But, all good things must come to an end, I suppose. That's why I've been holding off writing this chappie. That, and the fact that school started and my body demands a full 8-9 hours of sleep. +homework. I envy all of you insomniacs! (to a small degree) Oh, also there are spoilers abound, so if your saving yourself to watch the end of the series all on your own, don't read the end of this, thanxs! But, that's enough yammering from me, so let's start this thing! *shoots gun* And they're off!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Folken gazed, glared even at the carcass of the late Dilandau Albatou. His eyes narrowed in contempt of the lewd whelp. His death had been delivered far too swiftly to be fully enjoyed. He unclamped the body and let it fall with a thud to the table. His breath became icy, frozen clouds left his lungs and hovered in front of his face for a moment, then dissipated. Only for him to exhale again and a new mist formed around him. He replaced his cloak about his shoulders and left quietly and uneventfully, ghosting down the halls in his usual silent, eerie manor. He let a tear slip from his eyes in regret for his brother. His revenge was done. Folken migrated towards the room he had last seen Van. Who knows where he could be now?
As he came into the hallway in front of the Albino's chambers, he saw the dark trail of footprints leading away from the door and fear griped his heart. He felt, no, he knew something had happened to his dearest brother. He ran into the room and laid eyes on the blood soaked scene. Trails ran from the bed to the window and everywhere in between. His breath caught in his throat and his mouth hung stunned. The scent of it assaulted his nostrils, the blood had not yet dried. There in the very thick of it, lay Van bathing in his own pool of blood. Folken stopped breathing.
In an instant he was at his brother's side, he reached out trembling hands, and cupped his dearest brother's face in both claw and flesh. He felt a new rising of anguish bubble up inside of him as he lifted the cold boy from the ground and held it close to himself. Red-stained feathers lay scattered everywhere, stuck to the floor by dried blood. One could see the bone and tendons in the stumps of Van's wings. Folken's mind numbed, there was no way he could deny his beloved brother was dead. He threw his head back and howled with the agony of his soul. Tears ran in rivulets down his face, all of Folken trembled in shock and woe at this trauma before him. He buried his face in the mane of matted hair upon his brother's head. Sorrow was his name and misery his lot. Folken rocked back and forth there for quite some time, Van in arms.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Miguel sauntered in to the Slayers eating area (it was dinner time, after all). The other boys shifted quickly out of his way when he sat down and he got nothing but silent stares his whole meal, the runny spots upon his armor were very suspisious. Miguel didn't mind, he had gotten even, revenge was sweeter than he'd imagined. Nothing else mattered now, it would only be Dilandau and him. No one would ever dare interfere with them again! He sipped some vino and fantasized blissfully.
~I wonder when Folken will be done lecturing Dilandau on fornicating with prisoners of war. He should be back very soon now, I think.~ Miguel looked at the mystery meat of the day. ~How the hell do they expect us to perform well in battle if all we get to eat is this crap? Ah well, food is food, even if it smells like its been rotting for a few days.~ He reluctantly shoveled a spoonful into his mouth and gagged, swallowed it anyway and kept eating.
Chesta walked in from the kitchens with a pallor to his face that made him look like he'd seen a ghost.
"Hey, Chesta, what's up?" Gatti probed carefully, Chesta looked almost ready to spill and cry a river.
"You want to follow me and see for yourselves. It's got to do with Dilandau-sama," Chesta then briskly walked out the door. All fifteen boys scrambled out of their seats and after him in a great stampede. Dinner was quite forgotten.
The boys bombarded Chesta with questions the whole way down, but he would only shake his head and try to blink back the tears threatening to come. He had heard something devastating from one of the cooks bragging to a visitor of his. The further towards the base of Vione they got, the worse the dread that clutched them. All of them stared in shock as Chesta continued to lead them down a hall where they had never been, but knew all too well, that of the dungeon. Gatti ran to the door and pushed it open in dread and anticipation. His mind went numb at the sight he forced himself to drink in. The other slayers filed in behind him, wanting a good look. When they had it, they wished they'd never followed Chesta down. There lay the body of their Captain, broken, torn and stretched into disturbing angles. None of them had a stomach to move closer, yet they would not keep their eyes from it. His hair was matted to his head and his body was still slick from the various bodily fluids covering him. Yet his face looked like that of a child sleeping, peaceful, and content, almost as if he could wake at any moment.
Miguel took a step backwards. ~No.~ This was not what he had intended! Folken was just supposed to make Dilandau-koi leave the room! This, this was all wrong! He must be dreaming, asleep. This was just another nightmare, that was it, a nightmare. But nightmares didn't smell so real. He bit his cheek so hard he could taste the metallic flavor of his own blood. Nightmares were never this real for him . . . by now he should be awake in his bed! He ran towards the body of his obsession and forced himself to touch it, see if it was real. Despite his thick armor he was shivering. He pulled off a glove and ran his fingers across the corps' face, still warm, almost. Miguel pulled his hand away and the tears and blood blended together as he stared at it on his hands. He took a few quakey steps away from the body and collapsed in upon himself. ~It wasn't my fault, I didn't mean to, I mean I didn't do it. It was Folken I . . .I . . .I. ~ He clutched his hands to his ears, quivering uncontrollably.
"I swear this wasn't what I-I loved my you can't don't accuse me I'm innocent!" Miguel's voice echoed into the room, trying to drown out the accusers in his head.
The other slayers were confused. Chesta began to try to explain that of course it wasn't his fault, Folken had a hand in this, but Guimel cut him off.
"What happened, Miguel?"
Miguel let his arms slowly crawl around his own shoulders. His head was shaking very fast, back and forth. "It was Folken, I didn't, I mean, I didn't know," Miguel shot his crazed gaze at Guimel, "This wasn't supposed to happen."
~So that's what he was doing.~ Guimel thought. ~I should have know this rat was up to something, but out to kill our Captain?!~
"You are the reason our captain is dead Miguel" Guimel stepped forward.
"No!"
"You killed him, Miguel."
"I would never!"
"You betrayed our Dilandau-sama to his doom!"
"I loved him!"
The Slayers had formed a tight ring around Miguel. The yellow light shown down on his pleading figure, while it silhouetted all the angry faces above him. As one entity they drew their swords and held them high. The guilty one braced himself, convinced he was the victim still. His life flew by him, there were no regrets, none but this one. Fourteen blades punctured him through and through, they were quickly drawn out again and them slammed back into his body repeatedly. Until all their fury had abated and turned their gentle attentions to the caring for their Patron's remains. Folken watched dutifully from the doorway. He had tracked the perpetrators footprints down back here, and he was able to watch as they dealt him a fitting justice. He wiped his eyes and left from the awful scene. He had a few things to get in order before the morning came.
~I am a man who has given up country, family, everything, including my life. I swear I will make things better . . .~
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A few weeks later, the war still went on. Zaibach was winning every battle, soon the fate of Gaea would be made perfect. Hitomi had disappeared one day, she may have gone back to the Mystic Moon, or was eaten by dragons. There was nothing left for Allen, his life had been all but taken by Zaibach. Allan sat hunched over his desk in the palace of Astoria, as Zaibach had no need for the Knights of Astoria they were being disbanded today. He was reading a letter for the Madoushi. As he read, Allen wept.
Dear Allen Schezar,
We are disheartened to inform you that your sister Celena Schezar has died of causes unknown. Her body was found in the heart of the Zaibach Empire, and that she had been living a full life there. Friends would be tending to her funeral. Also, Van de Slanzar Fanel has passed away unexpectedly. As the remaining heir of Fanelia is in league with Zaibach, we will be commanding custody of the territory of Fanelia.
Have a nice day,
Madoushi
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
~Owari~