Ollen70: This was not in any stretch of the imagination what I'd planned for the ending to be like. Please let me know what you think of it, because, reviews pending, I might change a few things and re-post it. Other than that, all I have to say is thank you' from the bottom of my heart to all of the people who took the time and the effort to review it - Atari, Rai Dorian, and Myst Lady most notably. I wouldn't have done all of this if it weren't for you.

Disclaimer: The premise of the Vision of Escaflowne is not my property. No money is being made from this story.

(Hey, I figure that after screwing around with it for seventeen chapters, it wouldn't kill me to throw in a relatively serious disclaimer at the end.)






Chapter Eighteen - - Flight of the damned





* * * * * * * * * * * *

Such warmth, such light, such love, and so much fear.
- - Richard Wilbur - -

* * * * * * * * * * * *


Standing by cautiously, Folken braced himself on the deck of a small skiff. It bobbed uncertainly on the surf, tossed lightly by the wind and the waves. Folken was never one for sea travel, and held tightly onto the ship's rail. He'd agreed to come with the salvage teams of Asturia, to see if anything might still be usable from the wreckage of the Vione. All in all, he had been disappointed by their findings thus far. He had hoped that at least some of the guymelef prototypes he'd been working on in the machine bays might be in workable condition, but the geko-manned submarines sent below had returned empty-handed, reporting that the entrances to the hangars had been sealed shut by the force of the blasts.

Though the corrosive seawater had ruined most of the technology in other parts of the fortress, they were still able to get a hold of some workable scanning equipment. Whether it would be worth anything for the alliance effort, Folken couldn't honestly say.

He stood still watching the other sailors as they worked, oblivious to his existence. How strange how quickly people accepted things,' he thought quietly. At first, no one in Asturia would even look at him, convinced by their own superstitions that something terrible might befall them if they did. He saved himself only by convincing the council that he meant no harm and would do whatever he could to aid in their efforts against Zaibach.

Many of them had protested this hotly. His change of heart, they claimed, was far too sudden to be genuine or truly warranted. As much as he would have liked to, he found himself unable to protest. It did seem sudden, even to himself. Naturally he'd done it for Van and because there was no longer anyone in the empire that meant more to him.

Is that all you are?' The thought upset him. Are you willing to trade sides as long as you keep the favor of your friends?' No, that wasn't true. For a time, he'd actually believed in Dornkirk and the necessity' of destiny manipulation. Delleva had certainly played a part in his decisions, as much or more than Dornkirk's threats against the demi-humans. He wasn't sure if what he was doing now could be called redemption or penance, but it was better than the alternative. People were going to die, as they always did when there was war, but it wouldn't be because of his ambitions. For once, he felt like his actions might really be noble, rather than mere volition in disguise.

There would be no saving graces for him, though. Only hours before, a fortress had dropped it's stealth cloak over the city of Palas and ended an era of relative peace between Zaibach and Asturia. The war had begun, leaving him stranded between two nations. He was a traitor to Zaibach and a monster to the people of Asturia, and there was nothing he could do to alter either perception. In his mind, they were both very accurate.

As soon as the ship returned to the ports, he retreated back down under the palace, into the labs he'd been afforded by the eldest daughter Eries Aston, current custodian of the throne until the rise of another king. It appeared these times were hard on all royalty, now that the merchant king Dryden had stepped down after his mere three days as ruler.

He felt safer, now that he was below the surface and it's problems. No where was truly safe, as he was all too painfully aware, but it was comforting for him to return to the cold and the dark and pretend that none of the things that went on above him were his concern - or his fault.


* * *

When Hitomi came into the lab later that day, he didn't bother stopping the heavy sigh from falling off his lips. She wouldn't have come for no reason, but whatever it was that brought her here, it was unlikely that they'd get to it right away. Neither of them really knew how to relate to the other, so their conversations to this point had been very painfully clipped.

She unsettled him, and it was a very safe assumption, given the way she balked whenever he looked at her, that the feeling was mutual. So they stood, each waiting for the other to do something, not wanting to be the first to stumble blindly into the next moment.

Folken watched her carefully with a very unvirtuous patience, wanting to scream at her and yet not wanting to upset her or be unkind. She was only a girl, after all, too young to have been brought into this situation that was so obviously bigger than all of them.

I...I want you to help him. He wasn't sure how long they'd both been standing there, but was still mildly surprised when she finally broke their by-now familiar silence.

I will, if I can.

No, I...I want you to help me to help him. He stared at her for a minute, not even vaguely understanding what she was asking. She looked back at him, her eyes revealing nothing even though she was flustered. I want you to help me make a pillar of light. I have to go to Zaibach. I have to stop all of this...

He won't listen to you.

Folken didn't want to have to tell her this, since it must have taken her a great deal of courage to come in the first place.

Dornkirk won't care if he causes anyone pain. It won't matter to him what you say or what you do. In the end, your traveling there at all will only hurt Van.

That doesn't matter. I have to try.

And what will you try? She flinched at the harder current in his voice, but he didn't back down. He had to tell her this. Do you think you could kill the emperor, if it turned out to be necessary? Would you take another life if there was really no other way? He hadn't expected her to answer, and she didn't.

The pillars of light seem to be some sort of culmination of fortune... He was ready for her look of surprise, smiling slightly in reply. She looked at him, her head to one side, but still said nothing. Nodding, he continued.

When destiny, or desire, or whatever it is that drives the fates of men builds to a strong enough point, these disturbances appear and take you to the places that were foremost in your mind when the culmination started. At least, that's the only theory I've come up with so far.

Why only me? Her face remained expressionless when she spoke at last.

I don't think it is just you, to be honest. It seems to me that the pillars of light affect any who have a part in the altercation of destiny. I'm not certain what it is about you that lets you manipulate fate, but you've certainly played a large role in the interruption of destiny. His eyes lingered on that curious pendant at her throat. Dornkirk longs for your power. It will be dangerous for you.

Again the silence set in, and Folken distracted himself by moving the vials of chemicals and various mechanical components he'd been given once he'd pledged his assistance to Asturia. There was one last thing he had to say, but he hadn't expected it to be so hard, or so poorly formed when it finally came from his mouth.

It should be I who faces the emperor, not you or anyone else. I have business with him.

Her eyes were wide once more, red staining her cheeks. They began to close just slightly and at the same time, he felt the ache in his teeth return. Only this time, when his own eyelids started to flicker, there were images behind them. A sword... a barrier... feathers... a pool of blood...

You can't! You mustn't!

Smiling at her again, Folken turned back to his work. For once, he planned to obey fate.


* * *

Hitomi came to him again, after the soldiers had left the fortress for the conflict with Zaibach. There would be an ending today, he was certain. One thing or another would end, and he was fairly confident that he knew what it would be.

He told her very bluntly what he planned to do, how facing Dornkirk was his responsibility, but she was no more receptive to his reasons than she had been at their last encounter. She cried at first, begging him not to go without her. He'd shown her his wings then, explaining the fate he'd chosen to accept and wishing once more that he could feel more noble about it than he did.

It was a selfish decision, when everything was said and done. There were no guarantees that anything could be resolved by his actions, but Zaibach called to him, offering the kind of peace he'd sought there ten years ago and failed to find. It waited there now, definite and unchanging, and he knew that he would go to it. Nothing she said could change the fact that he was dying anyway, his life shortened to the point where he could feel it by the fate altercation he'd undergone with Eriya.

Flexing his wings was more painful than before, so much so that he had to bite back a cry when they emerged from his flesh. Hitomi tensed, bracing him with her own body, but he shook her off. The stiffness and the pain weren't confined to his wings anymore. He didn't have time to ponder it, either. Brushing her off, he turned to go at last.

* * *

What happened next was not clear to him, but he assumed his speculations of the concentration of fate were more-or-less accurate. Light collected around him and pulled him up, wrapping them both in an icy, exposing beam that left no sensation of comfort when it cleared.

He was struck at once by the overpowering silence of the hall, so quiet that it felt as if it were holding its breath. The sounds of their boots echoed against the paneling of the floor, but that sound alone couldn't touch the quiet that was everywhere. Cold and dark and consuming, the hall was everything that he once was, and everything he'd tried so hard to turn away from. The only light in the room was just as cold as the pillar had been, and the single structure it illuminated was the great device that filled Folken with immediate dread. They were in the palace of the emperor once more, back in the very heart of Zaibach.

They've come. The sound of the voice alone was enough to make him grit his teeth, drawing his blade almost at once. He whirled around, attempting in vain to find the origin of the voice. In the vastness of the room, it echoed and spun freely, but intuition benefited him where his senses failed. Eyes fixed on the balcony above him, Folken waited.

Everything is now in place, ready for the final stage. Dornkirk materialized in the gloom when Folken's eyes adjusted to the paleness around him. The familiar odors of sulfur and oil still lingered here, the light distorted by the many metallic surfaces and objects nearby. All of the pieces are where I need them to be, all of the players having performed their parts to the highest level, even if they weren't fully aware of it at the time. He smiled darkly at the two of them.

You mean... you wanted us to come? Hitomi's voice was very small, very far from reality. Her eyes were wide and Folken remembered that this wasn't the first time she'd faced the emperor. He'd never been told exactly what had taken place during their last meeting, but, judging from way she grimaced involuntarily, he felt safe in assuming that he hadn't impressed her.

How long will you toy with fate, Majesty? How long will you break the things you do not understand, while men and women die?

Foolish questions, Strategos. You already know the answers, because at one time our intentions were one.

Our intentions were never one. Folken bit the inside of his cheek to keep his voice level. You've taken everything from me...everyone...

You've taken those things from yourself, Folken. It was you who pushed away the things that you had, far too content to dwell on the past that to build yourself a future. I may have threatened, but I would not have risked my time on you if I hadn't been certain that you would aid me, as surely as you are standing here now.

You expected all of this... Folken said it flatly, not astonished even though he knew he ought to be. You... you knew...

Of course I knew. Like a messenger of doom, the old man freed himself from the metal prison that surrounded his body. Come, my boy, and prove your worth to the fate of Gaea! Do you think that you can stop me?

Rising to what he recognized as the emperor's lure, he brandished the sword and took flight over Hitomi's shrieks of protest.

Everything I've lost... It's all been because of you!

Yes, my boy. The old man's tone gave him pause. Though it was carefully masked, there was a dark undertone of regret that caused Folken to flutter in the air a moment, afraid for the first time since his arrival. We hoped to shape destiny, you and I, but in all that time, we never realized that we still live under the laws of fate. Perhaps she means to take revenge on us for tampering with her at all... who can say? In a way, these thoughts had donned on Folken before, except that he'd never given them much thought. Altering the future seemed brilliant and valiant, but it was always a lofty idea that he somehow knew was nothing more than a dream for him.

There was a small glimmer from the old man's worn face, shining discreetly in the darkness of the vast chamber. As he watched, Folken realized Dornkirk was smiling.

There was so much you never understood, my boy. So very much that I wanted to show you. He was suddenly very quiet now, unaccountably personal and much more forgiving, no longer the harsh authoritarian Folken had grown to loathe.

I think she loved you. He didn't need to say who she' was. At the mention of her, Folken felt himself change inside, the anger cooling but not vanishing altogether. She finally escaped the hold of Zaibach, and I think she would be glad to know you defied in the end as well. But you won't escape. It is your destiny to fade here now, Folken Fanel. You will die, as ever you were meant to.

It made more sense now, or as much as anything else, at any rate. The look in her eyes, the sound of her voice. Delleva had asked him those question about his own remorse because she herself - was sorry. He was fading and for once in her life, she must have realized what she had done. If the lives his inventions took were on his conscience, they were equally on hers because she was as responsible as Dornkirk for his rebirth. Her visit had been her own way of apologizing. For everything. As he stood before the threshold of this final voyage, he knew in his heart that he had forgiven her long ago.

She had vanished from the empire after that visit. Taking her personal guymelef, she had gone into the lands to the north, leaving all of the conflicts of the nations far behind her. Whatever she was looking for, he hoped she might find it someday, even though his soul told him that she wouldn't. They were both broken, without hope of being truly fixed. And yet, when all was said and done, it was she that had given him the strength to glance into the eyes of life again.

Looking at the elderly man who seemed less a beacon of fear and now something far more patriarchal, lost in his elderliness, he smiled sincerely.

That is escape, in its own right. My soul will go to those your dream' has robbed from me. So that was how it had been. He should have known that it was her influence that broke him free, but in many ways Dornkirk was still wrong. Delleva might have been fond of him, but she hadn't loved him. But then, that was alright. There were others, though perhaps not in the passionate sense, who had given him just what he needed of love. He was ready now to depart.

It was ever our fate to embark this way, Folken Fanel. We each have our journeys to travel, and they no longer coincide. It seems that some things will exist above our ability to change them. It should have shaken him more than it did to sense the resignation in the voice of the Emperor, just as it had to hear regret in Delleva's voice that night. You were more than the world expected you to be, my boy, and I hope you are not insulted to know that I am proud of you in the way any father might hope to be proud of a son. Do now as you intended, and leave this world of pain behind you. Deliver this place unto its future!

Mother, Father, forgive me. Naria and Eriya, wait for me if you can. I'm sorry I was not able to be more for you.' He looked down one last time over the room that held so many conflicted memories, and down at the girl with whom his brother was in love. She scrambled for the stairway, screaming silently as she threw herself through the machine-littered maze below them. It was too late - what had to be done would be done, just as he'd told her. It was now that he was beginning to grasp the magnitude of those words himself, but it didn't matter any longer. It was over.

And then the sword swung. What happened after that was unclear, the burning in his chest no stronger than the stabbing of his thoughts which needed no whet-stone to stay sharper than time. The world grew more gray with each passing breath, a bit more ragged around the edges. Destiny would come to all, but it would not be of the type that Dornkirk expected. The world was not peace -The world was pain. The world was sorrow and loss and sacrifice and death. The world was faith.

For so long Folken put himself into the others around him, believing that the world would find him selfless for doing so; in fact, the opposite was true. He clung to the others in his life in a vain attempt to hold on to any kind of normalcy that once might have existed. It was not selfish for him to think of no one but himself in these final moments, because all self-pity that so fouled him was finally, totally gone. Folken felt the ties that held him finally give way, and at last he was free.



- - El fin





Ollen70: It's been such a weird week. I got back from Seattle yesterday, after watching the U of O football team get slaughtered, which is my excuse as to why it took me so long to get this chapter finished.

Don't ask me why I went - I don't even like football - but getting hit by beer cans and threatened by drunken frat guys doesn't make the experience any more pleasant. At first, I really didn't like this chapter - I didn't think it got across what I was trying to portray with this story, and while there are still some problems here that I may go back and fix (awkwardness with some of the dialogue, for one) I've decided that I sort of like it.

Anyway, I think I'm gonna do another (much shorter) story from Dornkirk's point of view soon, and like I said, please leave comments regarding this chapter. Thank you again for all your encouragement.