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: If you're familiar with the old saying The night is darkest before the dawn, then you can apply it to these next few chapters. They get pretty heavy, and, for those of you who don't know, Folken story doesn't exactly have a happy ending. So let's just forget that part about the dawn, okay? I'd also like to say thank you' to Myst Lady for her suggestions and reviews so far. Inspiration has been hard to come by, so I really appreciate her opinions. And that goes for anybody who feels like reviewing. It's always great to get feedback.


Chapter Three - - Never Light Nor Peace


Retiring to his room, Folken gazed at the sparse furnishings again, inwardly repulsed. Though no stranger to hardship, this mean little hole could never compare with the large, airy room he used to occupy in Fanelia. The memories of his old home were still painful in a way. He wasn't truly homesick any longer, but to think that he could never under any circumstances return home...

The first few days after his arrival in Zaibach, he believed that he could. Even with only one arm, his mother and father would certainly still love him.

For a bright lad, you certainly can be slow. Delleva told him during their first meeting. The dragon defeated you - it almost killed you, in fact. To the people of Fanelia, you are dead, and always will be. They will never welcome you again, now that you failed the rites of kingship. Why not stay here, where you belong?

She was partly right. He was broken now, without honor or dignity. With a deep sigh that bore all the burdens of regret, he discarded his rust-colored tunic and black trousers, pulling a threadbare blanket around himself against the chill. The room held only three things; a low, metal bed frame with a mattress only barely large enough for him, a metal end table, and a large samovar-type heating device that ran when it felt like it, causing the temperature to range from freezing, as it was most of the time, to downright sweltering.

Tonight, it was colder than usual. Dornkirk probably told the engineers to shut off his heat until he decided to cooperate more fully. The old man had moved him to these wretched quarters when Folken had refused to become a part of the Imperial army. The miserable old man had sought to force Folken's hand more than once, attempting to explain the glory and the forthrightness of his plans for Gaea, once his righteous war was at a close. The man was a visionary in his own right, and Folken had no choice but to admit that - but he wanted no part of the death and bloodshed it would take to make the Emperor's dream a reality.

Shaking lightly in spite of himself, he sank to the mattress, ignoring the loose springs that stuck through the fabric and groaned under his weight. The lighted lamps on the end table, sputtering from a lack of oil, finally went out on their own, stirred to their demise by the wind that found its way through the gaps in the window. The insufficiency of this chamber didn't thaw him, really. His first room in Zaibach, up a few stories, was only slightly better. From what little he had seen of it, Folken assumed the wealth of Zaibach was not evenly spread among all people, if such places existed even in the palace and fortress of Emperor Dornkirk. But then, the pride of Zaibach was in its technology, not in the comfort of its halls.

No sunlight stirred Folken the next morning. The wrath of the winter was so great that the sky was often as dark as night at all times, adding an even more ominous quality to the fortress. When he finally woke, sweating from the blasts of heat the samovar put out spitefully, he made his way to the washrooms, clothing himself in no serious hurry. This would be a day, like all of the others. Nothing changed here for him, and even when it did, nothing meant anything anymore. The days were only distinguishable if he stopped to focus on a particular thought he may have had, or a sensation that stood out from the gray stain that was time.

The only break in the sheer monotony of it all was when he found his way into the machine labs late at night, after the engineers were gone. He found he could spend hours toying with the left over parts of guymelefs and other random technology, creating devices that held no purpose other than his own amusement. He was always careful to dismantle or hide whatever he'd created, for fear of the engineers discovering that someone had been using their parts and energists for unauthorized experiments. If a little caution was all it took, he was happy to make the sacrifice. He hadn't realized how much wonder and excitement he could feel when his farfetched ideas became moving, functioning machines. They were his creations, friendly to him and him alone.

Delleva was waiting for him in his chamber when he returned one night. The cat woman watched him for a long moment, expectantly, but he said nothing to her. It wasn't until he blew out the lanterns and pulled the blanket around him that she spoke, more hostile now.

You don't understand, do you? She came right up to his ear, speaking softly while moving onto the mattress, lest he try to roll away from her. You trifle with Zaibach like you have power here. All you are is a cripple without a home or a family, and yet you scorn every gift the generals and the Emperor offer you. Why? Cling to your morals with dirty hands if you think it becomes you, but you'll give in. If you don't, then prepare to be left behind. He waited for her to be done with her lecture and leave, however the red-haired woman apparently had no such intention.

I'm not like you. I won't just give in because it's convenient. I won't fight a pointless war for a goal that doesn't even make sense.

Late or soon, you will. No one can hold out forever, especially not here. Everyone gives in, and I'm sorry to say that you will not be an exception. It's just a matter of time. He never remembered her leaving the room that night. He never knew if she stayed or not, but it didn't exactly matter. In the morning he woke alone.


Ollen70: Things are picking up. This chapter was supposed to be longer, but if I'm lucky, I'll have another chapter posted by the end of the week. Besides, the upcoming events are better when they stand alone. I get the feeling this is going to be pretty long when it's finally finished - probably about ten chapters or so. Anyway, thanks for reading, and reviews are always welcome.