Disclaimer:
I do not own Escaflowne or any of its characters. This is just a fanfic written by a fan for fans. So enjoy reading it! HOWEVER, do not steal or plagiarize my story. This is my work and it may suck, but it's still my work. If you need to do anything with my story other than read it, please email me at busyizzy86@hotmail.com and ask for permission. Thank you.
Chapter Two - Gatti
A beautiful, lavish dining table was set in the middle of a large room. Huge, delicate crystal chandeliers were hanging on the ceilings. The glittering crystals shimmered as the light bounced off it and reflected off the many polished medals, trophies and awards of honor and bravery hanging on the wall. Candles lit on the walls gave the room a soft, cheery glow – a feeling that was otherwise non-existent in the room. A huge painting of a strict-looking military officer was hung on one side of the room, across from the many awards that hung on the opposite wall. This parade of trophies continued onto the third wall. The last wall was bare of decorations and instead hosted a huge, antique door that was carved into the wall. Next to this exquisite door was a smaller door; it was barely noticeable, made out of rough and dull wood. The servants use this door to go to the kitchens. Next to this small door was a gigantic grandfather clock. It was a very old antique, yet it was still beautiful. The servants polished it everyday, a chore that the servants dreaded because it was so hard to polish because of the various mystical figures delicately carved onto the clock.
The clock chimed six. The servants hustled about nervously. It was dinnertime for their master and his family. As the sixth chime faded away, a man and a woman entered the dining room. The woman was wearing a long, fashionable silver dress; it lightly grazed the ground as she gracefully walked into the room. She was covered from head to toe with precious jewels; a large diamond pin adorned her hair, and her shoes had a large ruby fastened to each of them. Her face was as pretty as the jewels that adorned her - though she held an air of warmth and kindness, unlike the jewels, which seemed cold and indifferent. Her cheeks were rosy, and her skin was fair and smooth. Her green eyes sparkled, kind and warmhearted. The man, on the other hand, stood stiff and rigid. The room suddenly seemed dark and cold when he entered the room. His eyes were strict and stern as he looked out for any petty mistakes to reprimand. He sat down at the table. His wife sat down across from him. The servants waited for their orders nervously.
Fifteen minutes passed. The man and his wife were still sitting; both of them silent. The woman twisted her handkerchief in her lap nervously. She stole a quick glance at the clock and bit her lip. Finally, a servant timidly asked the man if he wanted the first course of the meal. The man glared at the servant. "Where is my son? Where is Gatti?" asked the man in a dangerously low and quiet voice.
The servant shook his head to gesture that he didn't know. Disgusted, the man turned his head, waving the servant away. The servant hurried to the kitchen, nearly tripping as he rushed away from the man. The man's wife gave a pitied look at the fleeing servant. She turned her gaze from the servant to her husband. Maybe she can cool his temper before her son came. She didn't want Gatti to be chastised again. "Dear, I'm sure he'll be here soon. Any minute, probably," she spoke up in a hopeful tone. "Maybe he fell asleep …" she suggested.
"And that's what's wrong with him!" the man cut in with a sharp tone. The woman, surprised and nervous at her husband's sudden loss of temper, dropped her handkerchief onto the floor. A servant hurried over to pick it up for her but she waved the servant away. She ducked under the table as she continued to listen to her husband yell. "Spends all his time sleeping or dozing off. So what if he gets good grades? He gets told off in class … nearly kicked out of school for fooling around … and … he's useless … tiresome … a constant disappointment … spending all his time in idleness … someone needs to knock some sense into that boy!" the man practically shouted, slamming a fist onto the table. His voice echoed throughout the room. "I try to give him the best, …" he continued in a quieter voice, more calm. "Sent him to the best school … has the best training … what more could he want? Is he trying to ruin me? He should be in the military - as I was, as my father was, and as everybody before him! For generations, my family has been excellent leaders of the Zaibach army, and Gatti should be no exception. It's a tradition. It's the tradition," the man insisted. His wife, after picked up her handkerchief, sat quietly, her head down and turned away from her husband. "He's shaming the family name," the man said.
The woman sighed softly. She didn't want to upset him. She took a glance towards the door. 'Gatti, my son, where are you?' she asked silently with another sigh.
* * *
Gatti heard the clock strike six. "Damn it. Dinner," he said to no one in particular. He was alone in his room. Gatti was sitting down on the large comfortable bed that was in one corner of his room. Pillows and blankets smothered the bed. A desk, made out of smooth polished oak, was set in the opposite corner. Pictures in exquisite gold picture frames were hung on the walls, scattered along the two walls facing Gatti as he sat on his bed. There was one picture of his father, and another of their family. Near another corner, across from Gatti, was a large, cushy chair. Next to the chair, there were three shelves full of books. But the books were hardly worth reading. 'They're so full of bullshit,' Gatti thought. His father had given Gatti those books to read – 'It'll better that worthless mind of yours,' his father's voice echoed in Gatti's head and Gatti gritted his teeth angrily. Anything Gatti tried to do, his father would find always find something to criticize. It was just no use trying anymore.
* * *
Gatti's father tapped his fingers against the table impatiently. He looked at the clock. 6:30. "It's been thirty minutes," he declared in a quiet, husky voice. "If he's sleeping, he's gotten enough sleep. He has plenty of time to sleep at night." He turned towards the servants who were standing in a line, their backs straight, and their shirts tucked in. "Fetch Gatti. Now," he said in a curt voice. As one of the servants started to leave, he added, "You'll be dismissed from my home if you come without him."
* * *
Gatti lay sprawled on his bed. He picked up his pillow, carelessly throwing it across the room. "Man, I really don't want to see his face," Gatti said out loud. He grabbed another pillow off of his bed and threw it hard towards the picture of his father. The picture fell and crashed onto the floor. The glass broke, and the picture frame was chipped; however, Gatti threw yet another pillow carelessly towards his father's picture, still fuming about his father when he was interrupted by a knock on the door.
Gatti glared at it. "Who is it?" he asked abruptly.
A voice answered, "Your father requests your presence at the dinner table, Gatti-sama."
Gatti rolled his eyes at the word 'sama.' He had continually asked all the servants not to call him that, but his father had insisted on this formal name-calling. "You can come in," Gatti said. He added, "And I'm nobody's lord or master or whatever. Got that?"
The servant entered the room. "Your father demands that we call you that, Gatti-sama," The servant said as he looked up. "Or we would … get dismissed."
"And you want to stay here?" Gatti asked, raising an eyebrow, questioning the servant. "I'd do anything to get out of here. Out of Father's criticizing eyes and mouth. I would never have to hear him call …" Gatti wistfully said.
The servant quickly interrupted, "Your father pays us well."
Gatti scoffed. "So, you're in it for the money?" he asked. "You people would do anything if there was money in it for you, wouldn't you?"
The servant looked away but did not reply to Gatti's accusations. Gatti opened his mouth to ask the servant again, but the servant quickly said, "Please, your father requests your presence at dinner. Please hurry down before he loses his temper," the servant pleaded.
"Why not?" grumbled Gatti. "Every time he sees me he finds some reason - no matter how petty - to get pissed. Pissed off at me!"
The servant ignored Gatti but held the door open imploringly. "Please," he said.
Gatti sighed. With no other choice, he got up from his bed and slowly trudged out of the room. The servant, before closing the door, noticed the broken glass on the floor. "Shall I get someone to clean that up, sir?" he asked.
Gatti turned back and saw the servant gesturing towards the pile of broken glass around the picture frame. He shook his head. "No. I like it just where it is," Gatti replied with a mysterious grin. The servant, puzzled, closed the door and lead Gatti to the dining room.
* * *
When they arrived at the dining room, the servant knocked the door. "Enter!" a stern voice said. The servant opened the door for Gatti. After Gatti entered the room, the servant entered, and he closed the door quietly behind him, walking over to the kitchen while avoiding eye contact with Gatti or his father. He disappeared into the kitchen.
Gatti stood in front of his father. His father tapped his fingers against the table in an annoyed fashion. "So," he said. He paused, "So …" Another pause. Gatti longed to answer, "So what?" but common sense stopped him from doing so. "Did you forget dinner was at six?" asked his father. Gatti looked down at his shoes. Gatti shook his head silently. "Answer me when I talk to you," ordered the man.
Gatti looked up, straight into the eyes of his father. "No. I didn't forget," he answered.
"Then why are you late?" his father asked. Gatti tensed up. "Answer me. Don't make me ask you twice. Why are you …"
"I didn't want any dinner," Gatti interrupted.
His father looked at Gatti disdainfully. "Is that how you were brought up?" he asked. In a sarcastic tone, he continued, "Oh! Let everyone else wait! Why bother coming down or sending a servant down to tell my parents I'm not going to eat dinner! They can wait! They can …" There was a dangerous glint in his eye. He suddenly bellowed, "… can starve to death? Is that it?"
His mother spoke up, "It's alright, dear. It's probably …"
"No! You …" the father pointed an accusing finger at his wife as he said, "You've defended him every single time. I wanted to send him away, let him see what life is actually like but you! You've spent the whole way protecting him from it! Letting him sit in his room all day, letting him do whatever he wants. It's spoiled him! I wouldn't be surprised if you told him to just eat, drink and be merry all day! He can't survive the world the way he's been brought up. He can't, and it's all because you protected him from it." Gatti's mother turned away, keeping silent.
"Hey, keep Mother out of this!" Gatti said, interrupting his father. 'What she went through from Father just so that I could be happy …' Gatti thought.
His father glared at him. "Keep out of this. This is between your mother and me," he snapped.
"Yeah? Well, don't yell at her," Gatti talked back. He couldn't bear to see his Mother being yelled at like this. 'He's acting like I'm not even here! Like I'm some sort of thing of his! Some kind of trophy to bring him all that bullshit honor and everything,' he angrily thought.
Gatti's father turned to Gatti. "So, why didn't you come down? Why didn't you send a servant down to tell us? Was it because … " he sniggered. "You're too good for your parents? Was that it?"
"No, sir. I just …" Gatti paused. "… I was just preoccupied, sir." Gatti carefully choose his words. He bit his lip as he watched his father's reaction to his words.
"Preoccupied. Hmmm …" his father said thoughtfully. Gatti looked back at his father as his father looked at him from head to toe. "What were you doing that preoccupied you so much?" the father asked.
Gatti looked down at his father. He certainly didn't want to answer that. "May I sit?" he asked.
He ignored Gatti. "Answer my question," he demanded.
'Billions of things,' Gatti thought. 'All of them better than being here with you.' He was going to say otherwise, however. "I was …" Gatti started to say.
"Actually, I don't want to hear how you waste your time all day," Gatti's father interrupted. He glanced at his wife and then looked back at Gatti. "I've decided something. And no one is going to argue against it." He shot a glance at his wife. His wife looked away. He continued, "I've heard from your teachers that you're smart. I also heard that you're one of the best Guymelef pilots of the school, also that you're an excellent swordsman." He carefully looked over Gatti. "Use that skill. You can rise to a high military position with that skill. You can prove to me you're not worthless," he said.
Gatti thought bitterly, 'Wow, big accomplishment. I don't give a damn what he thinks anymore. I'm sick and tired of trying to impress him. Trying to live in his footsteps.'
Gatti, however, listened as his father continued. "I'm going to look for a reputable army with a esteemed captain that'll accept you. What you do from there is up to you." He looked at Gatti with newfound hope as he said, "Hopefully you'll bring me honor. Gatti, I have newfound hopes for you …"
Gatti shot his father a disgusted look. 'That's all I am for you, Father. A little toy to show off to your friends … to bring you your god-damn honor.' Gatti thought.
The father continued, "In the name of the family, son, the family honor, please, don't fail me and don't embarrass me." Gatti gave a slight glare, which went by unnoticed by his father. "In the name of Zaibach, work hard, son."
Gatti sighed. 'No sense in getting Father all worked up again,' Gatti thought. He sighed again and then asked, "Where are you going to send me?"
His father shook his head. "I'll ask around Zaibach for more information. I have special sources and … references." He rubbed his forehead thoughtfully. "You're dismissed, Gatti. Go to your room."
*******************
Folken stood, staring into the blank sky. Gatti's father stood behind him. "Folken-sama, I asked to meet you here on the account of my son, Gatti," he said respectfully.
Folken did not turn to face Gatti's father. "I see," Folken coolly answered. He did not pursue the topic further, and silence filled the air around the two men.
The moment of silence seemed bring tension into the atmosphere. The usually stern and strict man that was Gatti's father was seemingly cowering under Folken's influence. "So …" Gatti's father started to say.
"So …" Folken repeated, calm and cool.
Gatti's father looked respectfully at Folken. "Do you know of any reputable groups my son might be able to join?" he asked. "He's a great swordfighter and …" his voice faltered as Folken suddenly turned.
Folken looked down at Gatti's father. A smile tugged at the edge of his mouth as he said, "I think I have just the thing."
*******************
"Did you call me, Father?" Gatti asked as he stood in the middle of his father's study.
"Gatti, I have good news," his father answered.
Gatti waited. 'Of course, knowing my father, good news usually means bad for me,' he told himself. He waited all the same.
His father looked down at a letter he was holding. "I have talked to Folken-sama. You have not heard of him, I reckon?" his father asked. Gatti shook his head. "Nevertheless, Folken-sama speaks of an arrangement that could be made for a group called the Dragonslayers."
"The what?" Gatti asked.
"The Dragonslayers," his father repeated. "It's a relatively new group. Folken-sama, however, recommends the group and the captain highly. The Captain's name is Dilandau."
Gatti bit his lip. Interesting, yes, but ... it just wasn't for him. "What if I don't want to go?" Gatti asked.
"What do you mean?" Gatti's father asked, looking sternly at Gatti. "Of course you want to join. What else are you going to do with your life? You can't waste it. You've wasted enough of it, already - most of it at home."
Gatti shuffled his feet. "So the Dragonslayers …" Gatti started to say.
"… are elite soldiers part of the Zaibach army. I was very lucky to talk to Folken-sama. It's a small group; mainly consisted of boys your age, I believe. Folken-sama also warns me you might not get in - the Captain is selecting only 15 boys to be Dragonslayers. Folken-sama will recommend you to the captain but it is all up the captain." Gatti still looked uncertain and answered with silence. Gatti's father sighed as he asked, "Son, will you try?" Gatti again, bit his lip. Seeing no way out of this, Gatti nodded. His father nodded his head back in approval. "Good, Gatti. Make me proud. Dismissed," his father commanded.
Gatti stepped outside of his father's study. "Well, this is just what you wanted, isn't it, Gatti?" he asked himself. "Get away from Father … just getting away from it all."
