Ollen70: Hurrah! It's done! Well, this chapter, at least. There's one more coming after this.

To Rai Dorian: I can't even explain how insanely happy I was when I saw all of your reviews in my e-mail inbox. I wanted to dance and sing. And I did for awhile, until my roommate started throwing stuff at me. I'm really glad to hear that you like this. Thank you thank you thank you for taking the time to review so much of what I've done.

To Atari: What can I say? If it weren't for you, I don't think I would have kept this up for so long. Thanks again for all your support, and I hope that you're feeling better. =)


Disclaimer: Standard applies. Seventeen chapters are too many for me to try to be inventive with the disclaimer any longer. Sorry.



Chapter Seventeen - - Brother's keeper


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But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.
- - Alfred Lord Tennyson

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Do you think he'll come? The dog-man Rum asked quietly. Even quiet words were amplified in this cemetery for memories.

Of course he'll come. It's Van, remember? He hates me so much that he can't help himself.' He saw no reason to add that last part in, so he leaned back against the stone he was seated on and stared up at the sky. He whistled idly, the old tune comforting to him. It was a fitting elegy for the dead kingdom, and he let it soar around him even though he knew it's sound was probably unsettling to Rum.

There he is.

It's about time. Folken replied evenly, on his feet at once. He scoffed as the gray guymelef circled the grounds twice before landing not twenty meters away.

What, did you expect him to take you at your word? Rum's little laugh was genuine, not meant to be cruel. Forgive me for saying so, but you aren't what many people would call a credible source nowadays. There's no reason to be surprised that he doesn't trust you.

I'd be more worried if he did. Hello, brother. Van wasn't close enough to hear, so Folken let himself take in the sight of the young girl who clung to him. Her short hair and garb were both unusual, lending an exotic air to her.

Quite the unknown element.' He thought, eyes more on the way she held onto Van than her features. How amusing.' Apparently, their interference with the fates of the two had totally failed at last, as they had expected from their readings. A pity that I didn't understand it all then.' Opposing Van at all had been a terrible mistake, as well as siding with the Empire. Van wouldn't care that it hadn't been Folken's choice. At any rate, Folken wasn't ready to convince himself that it *hadn't* been. Ten years was a long time, after all.

Well, I think it's about time I take my leave of this little reunion. Rum nodded his farewell to both Folken and Van, sparing a small smile for Hitomi. If I were you, I'd stay out of this. He told her confidently, and then he was gone.

Thank you, Rum. Folken murmured it quietly to the demi-human's shadow.

Are you alone? Folken couldn't quite place Van's tone - there was bitterness and hostility and all of those other emotions that Folken was by now accustomed to, but there was also something different than before, as if Van were unduly worried about something that had little to do with the here and now.

Do you think I'd lay a trap for my own brother? Folken asked, knowing full well that it was the first thing Van would expect. Leaping from the Escaflowne, Van freed his sword in one motion.

Liar! Murderer! You're no brother of mine, you coward!



And so Van was here at last. Folken tried to be surprised at the outright hatred that still spread like blood over the younger man's face, but couldn't. Reaching with his good hand for the hard metal of his fake limb, he found himself polishing it self-consciously with the hem of his cloak under Van's scrutiny.

Today there will be a conclusion. He said quietly, the words sounding rehearsed in his own ears. In truth, they weren't. As long as he'd stood, waiting for Van in the crumbling remains of their home, nothing he'd considered saying sounded right. There had to be something... and yet, if words had meant little between them during their first encounter on the Vione, they were certainly, understandably worthless now.

Today you will die, traitor! Van shrieked it, totally overcome by the emotions within him. Folken watched with masked sympathy as tears rolled down the young king's face. For everything you've done... all the people you've killed...! Don't try to tell me that you deserve better than that!



Van's blade was upraised now, its point glittering in the filthy, unfeeling light of the afternoon. Fanelia will sleep more soundly when her streets have been repaid with your blood! You did this, Folken! You! No one else! Whatever it was that Folken had considered placating Van with, it withered on his lips at this horrible truth.

It was then that the ground trembled and the crumbled walls listed drunkenly under the rise of a great dragon. Van began to back away, not realizing that it was useless. Another rose behind him and the girl.

It was a trap! Folken knew that the younger boy was glaring at him, even though the body of the dragon kept him from seeing his brother. This way! We have to get out of here!

Drop your sword, Van! Folken called. He'd hoped this wouldn't happen. Fighting solves nothing. He heard Van's cold laugh. He wasn't going to accept Folken's words any more than Folken himself would have, if their roles had been reversed.

But there was still so much that Van didn't - wouldn't - know. So much that he couldn't possibly understand. And not even about the Fanelia of the past or Folken's motivations. If Van wasn't very careful now, he would find himself falling victim to the very things that had stolen away Folken's innocence and begun his future in the first place.



That was wrong, Folken. Van's voice echoed through his memory. He remembered Van as a child, listening to Folken as he read a story from a heavy leather tome about the glorified history of Fanelia and the majestic Samurai overcoming the dragons of the forests. It's wrong to kill a dragon, when they haven't done anything to you. Why do people have to hurt things?

That simple statement had left Folken as speechless then as it did now. In the end, though, there was one simple fact that Van had overlooked. Folken, for all his sins, had not killed the dragon. He had tried, and he had felt the sting of regret and not a little fear when the time had come for him to do the deed. Folken didn't fool himself; his hands were far from clean, but he had never taken a life directly before. His sins lay in corruption, in tainting others and pulling them in just the way he himself had been consumed.



Van had killed the dragon. Van had slain the obstacles in his path, becoming stronger but forgetting that piece of wisdom that he'd held so dear as a child. Sometimes the most dangerous, horrifying enemy before you means you no harm. Sometimes, if you stop yourself long enough, you can understand that fate doesn't hold you inexorably. Fate simply told the general tale of the future - Folken hadn't understood until now that the details of it were colored in by the actions of those who lived within its boundaries. Fate was not oppressive. On the contrary - it allowed for all possibility. It was men who told themselves what was and what was not possible.

We shape our own fate, Van. He said, sharing the last part of his thoughts with his brother over the roar of the dragons. We are responsible for the actions that bring us to where we are, not anyone else! Never blame your anger on another man, nor your sorrow, nor even your hope. You control what you feel. You allow yourself to be swayed by anger, regardless of the situation!

Not that I have the right to say such a thing.' He mentally admonished himself. His regrets, however, weren't important now. If he couldn't make Van understand him, the dragons would grow more agitated, provoked by the mounting rage.



Van was losing. He couldn't hold off the dragons alone, though he'd thrust Hitomi from him and stood against one of the beasts on his own. Striding up behind the girl, he clapped his real hand over her mouth and held her still, closing his eyes. One of the dragons was near; he could feel it's breath, smell it's sulfurous fume. After a moment, its rasping grew fainter. Releasing his grip on the girl, he braced her when she fell to the ground.

I want you to trust me. Was all he could think of to say. Her slight nod was all the confirmation he needed - she wouldn't run or resist him, and he needed her help if he was going to save Van.

You hope to remake destiny, don't you? She asked him, her tone very direct. He paused a moment, looking her over before he answered.

Dornkirk's aims were noble, but the methods of Zaibach are cruel. Yes, I hope to create a destiny of peace for Gaea, but I won't do it his way. He isn't my master any longer.

This place deserves peace - but it isn't our business to manipulate it like that. It's... well, bad things happen... the ones you love, they suffer.

Indeed they do.' He thought sadly. She must realize now that her wishes - or rather, her expectations - had been coming true, molding the destiny of the things around her. Folken still had no idea why or how it was happening, but it certainly explained why the empire had such trouble with her, especially when she was near the Escaflowne. Tilting her head to the side, she looked at him in a way that made him want to cover himself.

You're like Naria, aren't you?

He was barely able to repeat the name, the lump growing quickly in his throat.

Not all of you is real. You've been broken... you've been made again, only it wasn't what you wanted... Her eyes were only half open now. A faint flicker emanated from the odd pendant around her neck, and Folken's teeth ached slightly, as they always did whenever he was too near Dornkirk's prognostication device.

Who are you?

Before she could respond, Van's cry caught both of their attention. Scrambling to a nearby rampart, he looked down on the scene before him and balked. Van was trapped, backed up against a stone wall by one of the dragons. It would kill him if it could not be swayed.

What can we do? Folken...? He heard Hitomi's voice behind him and her exclamation as he tore off his tunic. Paying her no mind, he gritted his teeth and let the wings spring free of his flesh. There was only one thing he could do for his brother - only one way to avert the horrible fate he himself had suffered. He heard her gasp, presumably at the color of his feathers. He didn't blame her. In the afternoon they eschewed all color around them, looking even blacker than they were.

Van, you have to trust me. He landed in front of the younger boy, using his body to shield him against the dragon. You have to let go of everything you've been holding onto - all the hate, all the regret and the blame - or neither of us will survive.

And so do I.'

It was just a murmur, so faint that he only barely heard it. For an eternity they just stood there, staring at the dragon while it watched them with an equal severity. It blinked once before vanishing back into the ground, no longer interested in them now that they weren't moving or responding to it.

Even after it was gone, no one said anything. They still stood, looking at the ground or the breaking, blazing wreckage of Fanelia. It was Hitomi who finally ended the silence.

Come on, Van. It's time to go.

Watching them board the Escaflowne, Folken flexed his black wings and rose behind them, his way lit by fire as Fanelia burned again.