Disclaimer - I don't own Visions of Escaflowne. Folken, Dornkirk, Adelphos, Van, and Merle don't belong to me. Once again, if you're surprised, I'm sorry.


Ollen70: I'd meant for this story to be a one-shot and nothing more, but it's evolved a little more than I'd intended. If I get away from the plot (If there is one) and end up just being depressing, then blame it on my frame of mind at the moment. It hasn't been an excellent week.

I know most people get angry when writers introduce original characters, but since ten years of Folken's life are more or less blank, I had to invent some things along the way. I don't create Mary sues, and I've done my best to keep the established characters intact. If you think anybody's out of character, let me know.

Chapter Two - -The Liar

Days, weeks, months...they all passed like the snows that fell over the darkened streets of Zaibach. The winters here were savage and desolate. Unlike in Fanelia, the snow and ice brought no beauty to the already-frigid cities, causing the palaces and hangars to look, if possible, even more menacing than before. The new floating fortresses were grounded by the severity of the storms, embedding themselves into the frozen earth like mountains of sheer doom.

Of course, for some nations, they would indeed become instruments of doom and little else. Such fortresses were built so painstakingly for one reason and one reason only - conquest. No one in Zaibach had any illusions to the contrary. Zaibach was made great by war. It was the impressive military prowess of the High Emperor Dornkirk that had so advanced the nation and them that dwelt in it, bringing the nation from obscurity in a matter of years.

All of these thoughts were, as usual, inconsequential to Folken as he stood on a balcony once again, heedless of the lashing gales and snow. No idea could move him. No desire, or hope, or fear had any real effect on him now. The Generals had pressured him for weeks to make something of himself for the good of the empire, and none were as gentle with him as Adelphos had been. The man who called himself the Platinum General had twice taken him into the Vione, the massive floating fortress, for two attacks on the nation southwest of Zaibach. He'd heard the name of it several times, but had no will to remember it.

Still no sleep, my child? Folken started inwardly at the voice. Velvet like the darkness, it wrapped around him like the arm of the speaker, drawing him close. He didn't fight back, like he had the first time she had approached him. He was more used to her by now. Delleva, the cat-woman, appeared fluidly from the corridor behind him, turning his face to hers with a gloved hand. Her kiss was gentle, but possessive rather than kindly passionate.

How often have we told you to rest? What is it about the darkness that intrigues you so, dear boy? She slipped around him and embraced him more firmly. He knew that resisting her was pointless, and her touch was somewhat comforting. He never fooled himself into believing that she had any real affection for him, but the companionship of another, real or otherwise, was grudgingly welcomed over the constant solitude he forced upon himself. Besides, no matter where he went, she found him. Being part cat, he should have assumed her tracking abilities were superb.

So, my child, if you will not sleep, what shall I do with you? The Emperor is not pleased, not pleased at all. He found he had no inclination to ask what she was referring to. Emperor Dornkirk was becoming increasingly upset with Folken's reluctance to stand fast with Zaibach. the more time he spent alone, the more wrath he incurred later on. Of course, it was of little concern to him what Dornkirk thought. After all, he didn't ask to be saved. He owed the empire nothing - less than nothing, in fact. He would have preferred to die, instead of lingering now for God only knew how long until the technology he was imbued with finally broke down.

That isn't my problem. He replied, his voice frigid through practice. He broke away from her, turning back toward the window and the night.

Oh, but it will be. Even you have more sense than to toy with a man who holds so much sway over you.

Dornkirk doesn't own me. I do as I wish.

Believe that if it makes you feel better. She taunted, pulling him close again and running her tongue slowly down his neck. You can't fool me, as hard as you try. I understand you, and you hate it.

Go away. He said finally, wanting to be anywhere other than here.

I don't believe I will. This world you remember...It's dead now. Zaibach is all that you can have out of life. Why not embrace it? Why not embrace us? She kissed him, her claws unmasked and digging into his living shoulder when he tried to free himself once more. His cry of pain was lost inside of her, giving her an opportunity to deepen the kiss. This exchange was not an uncommon representation of the relationship between the two of them. They always struggled, and he always resisted initially, but lost. He hated himself for it, but his resolve was beginning to weaken more every day. Most of what she'd told him was true, after a fashion, and lying to himself was never something he had been good at.

What hope can you have for tomorrow if you are so afraid to use today? she murmured quietly, her face still centimeters from his own. And then she was gone. Wiping the pearls of blood from his shoulder, Folken looked back at the snow. She would come again, as she always did, and leave him weaker, as she always did.

Delleva's purpose in the Zaibach empire was unknown to him, and intuition told him that it wouldn't be wise to ask. Most demi-humans were not treated well in all parts of the world, so he often found himself wondering how she could have risen to such an important place in the empire. Her air was much different than that of any of the cat kind he had met before. In Fanelia, where the division between human and demi-human wasn't so stark, there were a great many of the half-cats and other half races. In fact, Folken's best friend for many years had been Onru, the brother of Van's companion, Merle. Where Onru might be now, he didn't care to speculate. In all likelihood, his old friend had a family of his own and had forgotten Folken completely. In many ways, he supposed it was for the best - it was always better to be forgotten than to be hatefully remembered.

Walking down the abandoned hallways, he took his time dwelling in deep thoughtlessness. All the turns of the metal corridors were far too similar, holding no distinguishing marks to endear any particular part into the memory of the traveler. He felt at home in the bleakness, and it troubled him more than anything Delleva might say.


Ollen70: Who knows where I'm going with this? I don't, that's for sure. Thanks for reading this far, and I'll update when I figure out what I was thinking when I wrote this in the first place. Any suggestions? They're very, very welcome right about now.