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

Ollen70: Yeah, I borrowed the title from a song lyric, but it really seems to fit the overall content of this chapter.


Chapter Five - - I am Born Again




Like the light from a single star, only one tiny facet existed in his sight. For a while, he thought he truly was watching the birth of the starlight on a clear night, as the points became more and more abundant. They filled his entire field of vision, blurring and changing to become the inside of a chamber that most certainly wasn't one he had been in before. As fine as the furnishings around him were, in many ways he was disappointed. The sky was still heavy and deep gray, glowering through the red velvet curtains at him like some robber in the night.

The sharp scent of metal that never really went away told him that behind the rich tapestries and under the dark wooden furniture, the walls were the same as those in his old rooms - he was still in Zaibach, not dead as he had immediately assumed. That too was disappointing. Death would have been an appropriate conclusion. But then, the greater forces of the universe weren't ready to end his tormented existence yet. If the loss of all grace and birthright when his arm was taken couldn't bring about his demise, a whip and a cruel nature certainly wouldn't. Once more, his strength proved to be too great to give him leave from the torment of life, yet too feeble to allow him to protect himself from the beginning.

Settling down among the soft white sheets, it occurred to him that something was very wrong with all of this. He shouldn't be here. He should be bleeding hopelessly in the corner of the commons that he had by now grown accustomed to. It didn't really matter to him now. If he was in trouble, which was likely, he was in far enough that nothing he did now would make a large difference. Resigned to his fate, he rolled over onto his chest. The pain in his back, which he hadn't been fully aware of before now, alleviated very suddenly, making the vast stretches of the bed seem infinitely more inviting.



Wake up. How long do you think you can lie there anyway? Come on boy, wake up! Folken heard the voice somewhere through the fog that surrounded his mind, but deemed it safe enough to ignore it. Hearing voices was never a good sign. Perhaps more rest might remedy the problem...

His own cry brought him out of a dead sleep as he thrashed frantically, desperate to alleviate the pain that roared from...everywhere. It was gone in a moment and he rolled onto one side, careful of his back, to look up into the eyes of Delleva.

If you'd woke sooner, I wouldn't have had to slap you. She wore her familiar smug smile, her hands marked where his wounds had broken open again under her touch. A brown glass bottle and a white cloth were in her hands. Here, roll over again. She commanded. The sooner you're cleaned, the better you'll feel. Though it wasn't wise of you to get yourself into that situation anyway. Sometimes I wonder just how bright you really are.

Where am I? He asked while he complied. is this your room? She laughed at this.

This shamble? No, my holdings are far fairer than this. This is your new room, given to you by Dornkirk. As soon as you can stand on your own, you'll go to see him. Why he puts so much time and faith into you, I'll honestly never know. She steadied him with one hand, and out of simple reflex he felt his teeth clench.

The liquid she poured across his shoulders and back was hard in his nostrils. Though there was no pain, he stifled a cry at the sensation it brought out of him. Craning his neck and wincing at the effort, he watched the clear liquid as a white mist began to form in it, turning it cloudy in the furrows left by the whip. Delleva kissed the real shoulder tenderly, more kind now than he could ever recall. He didn't want her touch. Not like this, at least. Not when it was so laced with pity it nearly made him sick to think about it. If he had been feeling tolerant, he would have appreciated the compassion she treated him with just now, but the events of the previous day, if that was when it had taken place - he didn't care to guess how long he might have been lying in this bed lifelessly.

A cursory glance to his right caused him to jump, knocking the bottle in Delleva's hand askew. He didn't even notice as more of the liquid spilled down on him. All of his attention was fixed on the gray creature standing in the shadows with its yellow-green eyes on his face, unblinking and unnerving.

I see you've met Zongi. Delleva put in, wiping at the liquid that was running down his sides onto the sheets. If he hadn't brought you here, you wouldn't be in as good a condition as you are. She chuckled at the cross expression he bore. If this was good condition,' he shuddered at what bad' might have been.

When he was appropriately cleaned and bandaged, Delleva left him. Zongi, on the other hand, stayed where he was, never moving or speaking. At first, Folken was incredibly unsettled by the doppleganger's presence, but in time he was almost comforted by the staid demeanor of the creature.

Sleep was hard for him to come by. Part of this was obviously because of the restrictions on how far he could move and the overwhelming pain when he made
certain gestures or flexed the wrong muscles. He assumed the rest had to do with how long he had been drifting in and out of consciousness redundantly. The splitting headache that troubled him now, accompanied by an ever-present draft kept his eyes from closing or the blessed gift of sleep from visiting him again. He realized that it was likely he was suffering from fever, brought on by the injuries. As the day bore on, he shook so badly from cold despite the sheen of sweat on his chest. It was then that Zongi stood idle no more.

Folken felt the warmth of another body beside his own, felt reassurance flow from the heavy scents of dark earth, herbs, and rain. It felt odd to be so close to another male, even if gender was almost impossible to discern from a doppleganger. He was sure Zongi never meant to make him uncomfortable, and was merely keeping him warm. Though Zongi's gesture was comforting and not a little touching, he found himself wishing it was Delleva who lay at his side, as she had done that night that felt so very long past. Even with the warmth provided him, sleep did not come as it usually did. Confusion greeted him first, followed by a haze of nothingness that never became as deep as he would have liked it to.



It's time to go, lad. The Lady Delleva tells us you're well enough for an imperial audience, and the Emperor grows impatient. The Platinum general stood at the foot of his bed. Zongi rose from his place on the fringes of the room, but didn't draw nearer. After two days had passed since Delleva had cleaned and bandaged him, he found that it was easier to move through daily life as if he were back to normal again. He glanced at the metal arm ruefully and admonished himself for using the word normal.' His life was farther from normal now than he ever would have assumed it could be. The doppleganger in the corner, the Zaibach general before him, and the wolf man who just happened to look in the chamber at that moment deftly confirmed this.

When he was clothed - only in a pair of trimmed leather trousers and a very loose tunic, the general led him into the highest reaches of the palace. His bare feet padded on the cold, metallic floor quickly. Somehow during his injury and recovery, his leather boots had been misplaced, though Folken noticed that one of the room servants in the hallway closest to his quarters wore a pair that looked strikingly similar.

Upward they went, using the mechanical lifts that were unique to Zaibach. Folken wasn't aware that they had stopped, too preoccupied with the view to notice anything else. One large, arched window gave those who'd ridden the lift to that story the benefit of overlooking the kingdom of Zaibach. In many ways, it was not a beautiful place. The pinnacles below him were yielded from the earth like teeth wrought of iron rather than as homes for men and women. All was blanketed in the pride of winter, which shone blue rather than strictly white under the black clouds above. As always, the anchored floating fortresses were easy to see in the distance, even through the rising mist.

Nature and technology in one spectacle.' Folken mused. Much like my body.'

Folken had been in Dornkirk's hall only once, but it wasn't likely he could ever forget it, even if he spent the rest of his life trying. The room didn't seem exceptionally large at first, due to all of the devices and machines that literally filled every corner.



The last time he was in Dornkirk's presence, he hadn't been allowed to come close to him, kept in the center of the chamber under a beam of steady light. Now, as he approached the monarch, he saw that Dornkirk was actually built into his throne. Tubes fed into the old man's arms that reminded Folken painfully of the time he spent recovering in the lair of the sorcerers. A massive creation loosely resembling a telescope, was suspended on a maze of pipes and metal scaffolding directly over him. His beard and hair were both long and white, curled in places, Folken assumed, to give him a more sophisticated appearance. Watching the machines around him warily, Folken doubted if sophisticated' was the word he would use.

And so the mighty Folken, who needs no benefactor nor defender graces me with his presence once again. I was not expecting such resignation, young man. Your fire has proven time and again to be your greatest strength, more so than many others. That isn't to say, of course, that there are not other qualities within you that can prove...shall we say, felicitous.

Why am I here? Folken asked, his voice foreign in his own ears. I thought you'd given up on me.

Given up on you? Dornkirk sounded fairly amused. It was my order that brought you here, my boy, back out of the gutters and into civilization once more. Your display in the common was most interesting to me, old as I am. I must say that I was glad to see you exhibit yourself thus, though sadly it was a lesson I wish I could have spared you.

Every sound the Emperor made echoed in his mind as freely as it did through the chamber. Old and feeble as he was, he commanded every bit of Folken's attention and regard, though Folken's profound dislike for the man had certainly not abated.

You nearly died to protect the doppleganger. Once more the voice broke through his reverie. I must say that I am surprised, in some respects. May I ask you a question? The old man's tone was a strange one, kind but still stern. Folken nodded once, slightly. The Emperor smiled very faintly. Why did you protect him?

When Folken didn't answer, the smile became broader and more knowing.

If I may, I would say that his suffering troubled you. I doubt if I'm very far from correct in that assumption. You hardly could have known that the doppleganger was acting on your behalf, after all. Yes, he said grandly, noticing the look Folken cast him. Zongi took the metal for you, and several much more minor things from the upper reaches of the fortress. Apparently you didn't know how feared the dopplegangers are to most these days. Very few dwell amongst other races because of that. Zongi and the other were captured some time ago in battle, sold to Zaibach only very recently. We have ways of accounting for dopplegangers that other nations lack, though Zongi wasn't aware that we could detect him. So strange, the way people behave sometimes - the things they do, even when they know their actions might never be recognized. For only a crust of bread and a bit of cheese, you bought Zongi's admiration. And with your blood and your flesh, you bound him to you. The loyalty of a doppleganger is difficult to earn, but of the most enduring kind.

You have a chance to help me, Folken. The old man's use of his name was almost amusing to him. I can end all suffering, erase the fates of war and violence. I can give Gaea a new beginning beyond what any might imagine. There will be bloodshed in the meantime, but think of what we can accomplish!

He had heard this before, but something in Dornkirk made him pay more attention now. The old, rheumy eyes were brighter, more filled with the kind of fire that made looking away an unimaginable offense.

I..I can't...He started, faltering under the man's enabling glance.

My boy, I never wished to bring you pain, but our fates are not yet solely under our control. Within you, I have seen potential unmatched, rivaling that of nearly every man that I command. I need you. Because of your reluctance, that need has forced me to make a most unpleasant choice, one for which you may never forgive me. Yet ultimately, your decision will make the greatest difference, not mine. You will join the ranks of the sorcerers of Zaibach, or three hundred demi-humans of your own choosing will be put to death at once.

Folken's outrage brought him at a run to Dornkirk's throne, fury rising through the bile in his throat. Why would you do such a thing!?

I will do it, he said, with a level gaze that Folken had trouble matching, because you are of more value to me than all of them, individually or collectively.
What I hope to accomplish will give every life new depth. I am not a selfish man - I have no love of power or glory, nor am I excited by war. The world I come from is a much different place than this one, but it too has seen the ravages of too many wars and the devastation blind ambition can wreak. You will stand by my side, and we will usher in an age more golden than any lesser mind can even dare to imagine. Perhaps few deserve or can appreciate such a reality, but we owe it to them. We will bring them peace. I wish you hadn't brought me to such a precipice, but I will force your hand if I must. You will do as I ask, without complaint, and I will spare them.

It was a statement, not a suggestion. Closing his eyes provided Folken no refuge; he could see the faces of Zongi, Delleva, Onru, Merle, and endless others. For every demi-human Dornkirk would kill, he could name a person dear to him that he would die to save. With a terrible twinge of heart that made him want to retch, Folken knew he would do as the Emperor commanded.


Ollen70: I know I go off on a tangent with Dornkirk's character, but I've never really seen him as the stereotypical evil guy. I think his motives were supposed to be good originally. But hey, power corrupts, right? If not, I wouldn't have material for this story. But now, things seem to be running away with me. I don't really have a plan for this, so if there's any particular scene you'd like to see, please let me know and I'll be happy to do what I can to put it in. Thanks for reading so far. It might take a few days for me to get chapter six in decent condition, but I'll try to write fast.