This chapter is all about the dragon slayers. Those guys just don't get enough screen time. So if you're a Zaibach fan, enjoy...and if your not, well...read it anyway and of course review.
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Here it is
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Chesta danced awkwardly on one foot, then the next, as he pulled on his leather boots. His flaxen hair stood on end from a good night's sleep and he quickly smoothed it out before putting on his gloves. Beside him, Dalet gruntingly wrestled with the straps on his cobalt colored armor before he too slipped his hands into a pair of matching gloves. He righted himself and brushed away stray auburn bangs, turning to his shorter companion.
"Ready?" Chesta nodded. "Let's go."
They both dashed into the hall, taking no time to examine their appearances in the mirror. They trusted that the routine of donning the dragon slayers uniform everyday was etched into their minds and so they hadn't forgotten anything.
Dalet took the lead in maneuvering through the deserted corridors, his stride being longer than that of the blond teen. "This is all your fault you know," he said as they broke into a quick jog. "We wouldn't be late for training if you hadn't overslept."
"Sorry," Chesta said breathlessly trying to keep to the tall brunettes pace, "But you didn't have to stay behind, Dalet."
"Somebody had to wake you up and make sure you got ready," Dalet glanced behind to the youth struggling to keep up and frowned, "Just think how pissed Dilandau would be if you didn't show up at all."
Chesta grimaced at the mention of their captain. Dalet was right. If he hadn't shown up to training, the punishment would have been five hundred times worse than if he merely showed up late.
He smiled weakly to his friend as they turned into a long sterile hallway with ebony floors, one no different from any other in the floating fortress. "Thanks…I owe…you one," Chesta wheezed. Ahead he could hear the ring of clashing steel. The boys were filled with sudden panic as they realized training had already begun.
"Just remember that when Dilandau gets through with us," Dalet called back grimly as they ran down the passage.
"Next," Dilandau gestured with an open palm for his next adversary to step forward, a black-haired boy whose sword quivered in his shaking hand. Obviously disconcerted about taking on his captain, he hung back, hoping that he would not have to make the first move.
"Attack, idiot," an irate command left the white haired demon's cruel lips.
"Master Dilandau."
Dilandau whipped his head to face the boy standing in the doorway of the training room. "What is it Gatt-AH!" He howled as an unforeseen pain shot down his arm. Gripping his tattered left sleeve, he felt his body's warmth seep through his glove, the crimson liquid moistening his fingers and soaking through his already blood red armor. He glared venomously at the boy who had dared to wound him.
The young slayer whose sword was still lined in his master's blood quaked uncontrollably under Dilandau's burning gaze. He hadn't realized that his captain's attention had been steered elsewhere until it was too late and he had attacked. Luckily enough he had only skimmed the surface of Dilandau's arm, having missed his intended target, Dilandau's chest, by a mile, but he knew that it would be of no comfort to either of them. He shut his eyes in preparation for his punishment as the room fell silent. No one even dared to breathe in Dilandau's direction in case he chose to take out his ire on them.
Baring his teeth like a vicious dog, the white-haired demon swung out a fist and dropped the wide-eyed boy in one fell swoop. The slayer gagged, spitting up a mixture of blood and vomit as he writhed on the floor, clutching his stomach. Large white splotches clouded his vision. He was barely conscious when the next blow was struck.
Dilandau stepped down harshly on the boy's chest, feeling the hideous crunch of bone beneath his leather boot. The black-haired slayer shrieked a hideous cry, a siren alerting the Vione to his agony. He was almost at the point of passing out when his limp body was jerked upright, his collar cutting off his airways. "Clumsy fool," Dilandau hissed into the face contorted by pain and suffocation, "You're not worthy to be a dragon slayer." Blood gurgled in the boy's throat as Dilandau's slender blade pierced through his weak flesh. His terrified eyes fell shut and he struggled for sheer milliseconds before his body relaxed completely and never moved again.
The room was hushed; everyone staring at the lifeless corpse left to drop on the hard floor. Blood pooled as Dilandau retracted his sword and returned it to its sheath. He calmly pressed down his uniform and brushed wild ashen hair out of his eyes.
Composure once again restored, he walked deftly towards Gatti, casually raising his hand before swiftly backhanding the slayer. The tall blonde's head swung back but he kept his footing.
"How dare you break my concentration?"
Gatti stared back with anxious blue eyes. He was used to Dilandau's extreme outbursts, but fear was nevertheless present. Blood trickled down his chin and he made no move to wipe it away. He simply spoke as clearly as he could, "A message…from Lord Folken…Sir."
"Well? What did he say?" Dilandau demanded, ignoring the pressure on his wound as he folded his arms.
"He said he wanted to see you at once. He-he wants you to come immediately."
Dilandau looked daggers, "I bet he does."
Dalet and Chesta were nearing the end of the hall, almost ready to round the corner when they heard laughter behind them. They paused short in their tracks and turned to face a fellow slayer, walking nonchalantly towards them, grinning. "Well what do we have here?" The brunette, whose hair was cropped shorter than Dalet's and whose bangs fell over his cerulean eyes said, "I never thought I'd see the two of you late for practice. What happened?"
"I accidentally slept in and-," Chesta voiced sheepishly, lowering his head.
"It's none of your business Miguel," Dalet barged in. He was not particularly fond of the cocky slayer, "Why are YOU late?"
"When am I not late Dalet?" He shook off the annoyed look the russet-haired boy gave him. "But," he smirked at Chesta, "I'm glad that you decided to take an extra couple of hours because now Dilandau can take it out on you guys and not me."
"Fuck you. We're all in this together Miguel," said Dalet in a raised voice, "What makes you think that he'd be harder on us anyway?"
"Because," Miguel said, grabbing Chesta by the shoulders, "You guys are going in first."
Chesta squirmed in the boy's grip but was unable to wriggle free. Dalet took notice of his predicament and jumped to his friend's rescue. He slipped his arms between the two boys and roughly separated them. Miguel stumbled backwards as Chesta fell forwards.
Dalet stepping up to save the shorter slayer kindled a fire in Miguel's blue eyes. His sword was in his hand in a flash and he lunged forward, sidelining Dalet into the wall. He pressed his blade to the brunette's neck. Dalet lifted his chin, wanting to keep the razor edge as far from his throat as possible.
"Leave him alone Miguel!" Chesta's frantic cry came from behind.
"Oh and what do you plan on doing Chesta," he looked around, then square at the boy, "It looks to me that I'm the only one here with a weapon."
Chesta's hand fell to his left side and his blood ran cold. He had forgotten to bring his sword.
"Typical," Miguel scoffed, "I'd expect you to forget your weapon, not that you can fight when you have one anyway. You really are a poor excuse for a dragon slayer."
"Enjoying yourselves, boys?" Folken stepped up beside the quarreling slayers. His dark cape swiveled to a stop behind him.
Miguel quickly let his weapon fall to his side, allowing Dalet to relax his head and they joined Chesta in a meager bow before the draconian.
"Lord Folken," they said in unison.
He lowered his ruby eyes to them, "Shouldn't the three of you be in training right now?"
They kept their gaze to the floor, none wanting to answer their superior's question.
"You three," Dilandau's angry voice permeated the air, "What are you doing here?" The furious captain walked up to his slayers, paying no attention to Folken as he passed by. "Why weren't you in training?"
He stood before them, glowering down at their lowered heads until Chesta was brave enough to speak.
"I slept in, Sir, and Dalet-"
He received a punch to the side of his head, a purpling bruise already beginning to show through the tender flesh. Dalet and Miguel received subsequent slaps. They all fell to the floor from the impact and then hastily returned to a kneeling position before their master.
Dilandau pinched the bridge of his nose, "Why am I surrounded by hoards of incompetence?"
Folken remained quiet throughout Dilandau's little show, scrutinizing the battered youths at his feet but he spoke up when the white-haired slayer fell silent. "I still need to speak with you Dilandau."
The boy looked tiredly to the cloaked man, "Whatever you say Strategos."
Folken and Dilandau stood overlooking the vast countryside from the control room of the Vione. The ground below was a patchwork of color and textures, no actual detail being visible from their bird's eye view. Besides the clicking and hum of nearby machinery, all was silent. They both hadn't done anything more than breathe since they left the slayers in the hallway but now it had come time for Folken to break the silence. He spoke in his usual deep, sultry voice.
"When I summon you Dilandau, I expect you to come immediately, not to play around with your slayers until you decide it's a convenient time for you."
"It's not my fault," Dilandau defended, "My slayers need discipline."
"Discipline," Folken breathed. "Is that what you call it? You know I don't approve of the way you treat your men."
"Well they aren't your men and I can do what I like with them, Strategos."
"Maybe so," Folken's cool gaze narrowed on the young albino, "but I hope they are disciplined enough by tomorrow. I would hate for things to go badly."
"What are you talking about?"
"Emperor Dornkirk has ordered an attack on Fanelia. We are to capture the guymelef Escaflowne at all cost…along with their king."
Dilandau let out a maniacal laugh and fixed his crimson stare on the tall draconian. His eyes showed amused bewilderment. "You're giving Zaibach your baby brother?" Dilandau smirked, raising a finger to his lower jaw. "You really are a traitor…abandoning your country of birth and then kidnapping their king and their Escaflowne." The white-haired demon shook his head and grinned. "I'm impressed." Folken gave him a black look but Dilandau pressed on, "And don't worry Strategos...I'll take good care of your little brother."
Folken was visibly perturbed by Dilandau's suggestion but he did not give him the benefit of a retort. Instead he fixed the demon with his steely gaze. "I know how you operate Dilandau and if you so much as harm one hair on my brother's head," he grabbed Dilandau's arm, digging the nails of his mechanical hand deep into the gash making the boy whimper and grind his teeth, "This will tickle in comparison to what I will do to you."
Dilandau's momentary shock dissolved into a riot of hideous cackles as the tall man released his angry grip. The slayer's arm was absolutely killing him, almost to the point where he needed to throw up, but he ignored it. The pleasure of getting a rise of the usually hardened Draconian outweighed any pain he felt. He had never seen Folken so passionate about anything besides helping Zaibach before and he took great pride in the fact that he had made the tall man reach his breaking point.
"Have I struck a nerve Strategos?"
Folken merely glowered back.
"What, no more threats," Dilandau teased, "No more temper tantrums you'd like to share?" The albino cringed as he grabbed his arm, "That really hurt. I have to say, you're quite a performer Strategos. I was almost scared for a moment."
"Just retrieve the dragon and Fanelia's king, Dilandau," Folken snarled before gliding out the room in a few long strides.
Wow, another long chapter. See how much I care about you guys.
REViEW and tell me what you think. And if any of you are disappointed that there was no Van, he'll be back in the next chappie.
Now for some self promotion:
To those of you who are reading this and have read my other Esca Fic (PLAYTIME), I have updated. That's right another chapter. It's called "Choices" so check it out and review.
And if you haven't read Playtime you should cause its amazing...hmm, maybe not, but check it out if you want anyway. I could use the reviews.