February 2004

Disclaimer: Folken, Sora, and Escaflowne the Movie: A Girl in Gaia are property of Sunrise and Bandai Visual/Entertainment. Names of Elder Council members my own. 'Chadon' belongs to G ( id = euphorbic).

Author's Notes: This chapter takes place well before Scene 1. I'm writing these things all over the place. The chapter timeline is going to be 2, 1, 3.

G, since I couldn't write the "bedroom scene" in time for the first anniversary of our email/idea exchange, please excuse the horrid sentence down near the bottom. XE I'm awful. Someone scrub my brain now.


"If I were your appendages,
I'd hold open your eyes so you would see
that all of us are heaven sent"

- Incubus, "Megalomaniac"


Abschnitt Zwei


Folken took his seat near one end of the large table after formally greeting the rest of the Black Dragon Clan's Elder Council. A brief lull of curious stares left no doubt that they were surprised at his presence. The Council's Speaker, a sturdy but aged man with ruddy drooping features, decided to launch what was on nearly every man's mind.

"So rarely do you grace us with your presence, Lord Folken, that some might be inclined to inquire what the occasion might be." The old man regarded the relatively young Dragon with a look of practiced banality.

While it was true that Folken had not joined a council meeting for no less than seven months, and had passed few more messengers with them, the Council seemed less concerned than he had expected. However, a quick survey of the faces around the table told him that no small number of them was probably quite aware of the extent to which his control of the military had grown. As of yet, it had not occurred to them to think of his well-oiled machine as an autonomous threat, but sooner or later, Folken knew he would have to dispose of the this wretched body of men before him.

"I was not aware," he frowned slightly, "we had to bring alibis to the table, Lord Groma."

"You appear to bring one with you anyway," another member countered.

"I don't see what you mean." Folken was careful to convert his glare on the man into a look of perplexity, but the other seemed more intent on scrutinizing the military commander's shock of hair.

The man seated across from him leaned forward slightly to speak: "Twelve moons ago, you listed the complete destruction of Nale, though we saw it of no purpose." He paused, succeeding in irritating Folken. "We hope that the Clan has regained some recompense from such a manoeuvre."

"I have already had my generals relay detailed reports on our expenditures and gains."

"Not on your personal gains, surely," the first elder responded.

Sooner rather than later, Folken decided. "Whatever might help me better serve the Clan." He tensed, waiting for them to state their claim.

"Even now, the High Priest's granddaughter still lives," suggested Groma,"under your care."

"She has her uses," the young dragon responded slowly, loathe to reveal Sora's abilities. He had no doubt that such abilities would earn the covetous schemes of a few men at the table, and he would not allow that. To his surprise, a few of the others chuckled.

"She must be extraordinary if you have let her live this long."

"Indeed, she must be quite a sight."

"Don't get too distracted with your prize now," one of them chided like a father, as if Folken needed a father to tell him something like that. His own had been lecherous enough at an age greater than the combined ages of those seated at the table.

The men around him mistook Folken's brief scowl for something other than his anger at having been led off the cliff like a blind man. Their assuming nature would prove fatal and the corners of his mouth quirked upward at that thought. He decided it was in his best interest to lead them on for a change.

"Perhaps, my lords, you will be fortunate enough to see my lady," Before I kill you, "next time."

After the round of snickers died down, one whose name Folken recalled as Dequemus asked, "Nale guarded the secret to the weapon you were seeking. Has the lady provided you with any further information about the ancient armour?" It was difficult to tell whether his tone was tilted with eagerness or cunning.

"The High Priest disclosed much before he was executed," Folken lied, the smirk on his face stretching just a little further. Fools.


The guards on either side of the threshold gave Sora and her escort guards only a cursory look before pushing the tall narrow doors inwards. As they opened, a vast square room with slanted wooden walls was revealed. She stepped inside alone while the guards closed the door behind her. As she crossed slowly to the opposite end of the room, the massive work of steel there, depicting two symmetric dragons, seemed to shrink instead of grow larger. The closer she came to it, the less imposing it appeared compared to the seated man it provided a background for. The room was otherwise empty.

So far, this engagement was no different from any of the ones before. The silver-haired woman came within several metres of the Black Dragon before settling on her knees and bowing before him. Usually, she waited for a command that usually bore the form of a question, although recently he had come to expect her to deliver a report without prompting. However, this session would be different and even though she could not see what would come directly from it, Sora knew that this day would change the way she and Folken interacted.

After Nale was ruined and she had committed herself to him, she would kneel before him once every three days and tell him of what new visions she had seen throughout the interim. One month ago, he had broken the pattern by requesting that she attend him daily if his schedule permitted it. Only a day before, he had wanted to try something on a whim and the results were unexpected. The surprise affected him more than it did her. For the moment, he regarded her in silent study.

"Shall we begin as yesterday?" Sora's quiet words barely penetrated the room's stillness, rebounding back to her ears.

Folken nodded faintly, the almost tense expression on his face unwavering as he continued to analyze the young woman sitting several paces from his chair. Rarely could he read anything from her expression other than serene sadness when he bothered to really look at her. He was more concerned with the information she could provide him, and more recently, how she received that information. Understanding her abilities, and thus how he could use them, had developed into an exercise intriguing enough to spend an hour of his day on. Today, he decided, the prophet wore a strange air about her; he could see it surface in her eyes occasionally before fading away. What he did not understand was that it was curiosity trying to buck the heavy weight of sorrow in her.

Sora focused on making her voice as calming and musical as possible. "Close your eyes." She knew he was the sort of man who hated being told what to do and felt some solace in knowing that he did not accept this kind of speech from anyone else. She was likely the first in a long while.

Folken glared a moment longer before closing his eyes.

The prophet waited until she could hear his breathing begin to slow before continuing her instruction. "Try and focus on what you want to see."

"How can I," he growled without opening his eyes, "when I don't even know what it looks like?"

"That does not matter," Sora soothed. "Concentrate on the thought and the vision will follow." She paused briefly, closing her own eyes. "Are you ready?"

She felt his reply rush forward and press against her, setting her senses ablaze before she moved her focus beyond her physical body. Only a small tunnel of wind formed near her head, opening back towards him. Folken accustomed himself to the feel of Sora's strange power, hovering tightly around her like a veil over her body. The concentration was strongest around her head and it took him some effort to ignore the minutiae of her face that the Dragon sense was able to describe to him and instead draw from her power. After some moments of fumbling, he felt the Dragon Power fall through an empty wall and expand infinitely. Stark blackness swallowed him in a slow liquid spin.

Neither of them spoke or moved for minutes, waiting. Just before maddening nothingness could not contain his mind, straining to break with a flood of conscious thought, he saw.

A slender well-muscled arm, adorning blue diamonds trailing from shoulder to bicep, stabbed a single-edged sword through air. The diamonds rippled as the arm swung back.

Pieces of a scene flitted before Folken's vision.

A boy, one who had barely reached manhood by the look of his thin, stretched physique, danced in a forest with his blade. Firm swishes made the air hiss in protest. The youth followed his sword with powerful, calculated steps: three forward, three back, two left, spin, two right.

The figure remained faceless, but he knew the practice formation and each step to it before he was shown it. At that age, he had been…

a bare back, scapulae shifting underneath flesh, void of any indication of the White Dragon Clan's ultimate heritage…

Folken lost the vision so quickly he almost could not recall it. His eyes opened wide, affording him the view of Sora who had opened her eyes as well. "What happened?" he demanded immediately.

The woman only looked at him demurely and said, "You must not let your emotive thoughts overreact to what you see or they will drive out the vision. It is impossible to receive them that way." She looked down at her hands in her lap. "The connection collapsed also," she added.

The Black Dragon was suddenly aware of the awful throbbing of his head. "Why couldn't I see it?" he muttered angrily to himself.

Sora remained silent, unsure if his outburst was directed at her or not.

His tone was no less alarming for its level volume. "Instead I saw something useless that has already happened! A worthless vision."

Already happened? she pondered. Then he did not realize who it was that he had seen. "It has not happened yet, Lord Folken. It was the near future you saw," Sora told him quickly.

"What did I see?" he snarled, aggravated by the unprecedented headache. Headaches sometimes developed after strenuous fighting, but he had never felt anything of this certain magnitude after having done nothing more than sit still for a fraction of an hour.

The prophet closed her eyes and searched the vision again. She knew who it was that they had seen although she had never seen him before, nor had Folken ever explicitly told her about his past. "The White Dragon," she proposed gently.

If his forehead had not been hurting him enough by simply existing, he would have exploded something, but after the initial spike of anger at the mention of the words 'White Dragon' Folken was pacified briefly with curiosity. "Van?" The name escaped him with such calmness that Sora's eyes widened in surprise. His head tilted back gradually in contemplation. "That's right," he continued in a frighteningly tranquil tone, "He should now be almost the same age as I was when I…" The words left unsaid sparked the hatred in him again, his mind whirling with memory and plotting.

Sora's hands gripped a fold in her dress tightly. "We can see no more today," she whispered to herself.

Unexpectedly, Folken heard her and faced downwards again, turning his attention back to her, the sharpness in his eyes touched with madness. He spoke rapidly, "Since you are more disposed to it, for now I will leave the seeing up to you until I have time to pursue this further, but there is one more test I need to make."

"Test?"

"An experiment. You said that only the Dragon's Power has ever been able to draw upon your own before," he said, as if that statement answered her question.

Without rising from his chair, he glowered in the direction of the door. Sora felt a wave pass over her head and heard the portal opening far behind her. She turned her head to see the guards beyond step back to allow a large figure move into the doorway. A golden-haired beast-man bowed but did not enter the room before stepping aside and ushering in a young soldier with silver hair. The guards deftly pulled the doors closed behind him. Sora faced front again while the stranger walked up. He stopped level with Sora but not close to her. He kneeled before his lord.

The Black Dragon took measure of the soldier. "Dilandau, I want to see how far you have progressed in the use of your new powers."

"Yes, Lord Folken."

The prophet glanced sideways and was surprised to see that the soldier was not a man, but an adolescent boy, one who appeared within the year of growing into his adult body. As if sensing her eyes on him, the youth's sharp gaze shifted quickly to her. Sora nearly recoiled at the feral streak she saw in him.

Without bothering to introduce them to each other, Folken commanded, "You two, face each other."

They obeyed, a distinctly devilish smile spreading across Dilandau's face as he wondered if this strange woman would make good sport, Sora wishing to be much farther away than four paces from this wild looking boy.

"Dilandau, picture in your mind Mount Chadon, you've seen it before. You will need to extend your magical power by following my seer's instructions. Sora, make him see."

Sora successfully ignored the uneasiness she felt by processing this new information. If the boy before her had magical abilities, then he too, was of the Dragon Clan and of a bloodline that endowed him with the Dragon Power. She noted that the smile had not faded from his expression as well as the unfamiliar feel of his Dragon Power beginning to pulse at his forehead. The instant she fixed her mind on him, she was absorbed by uncertainty again. A furtive glance at Folken did nothing to dispel the anticipating watchfulness he placed on her. She took a deep breath and suppressed the doubt.

"Close your eyes and think of the mountain and nothing else," she directed the boy.

Dilandau rolled his eyes before shutting them. He did not understand how Lord Folken was trying to test his new abilities or why this woman was allowed to give him orders. With his eyes closed, he waited impatiently for the next command, thinking about the biggest peak in the Chadon region.

"With your power, slowly reach out towards me." Sora cringed inwardly despite herself. "Do not focus on my physical body, but try and feel for my power with your own. You will find it easiest near my head."

A blast shot forward from the youth, but another one undercut it from an angle before it could reach the prophet, barely in time. She felt conflict very near to her face, her hair billowing with it, before it vanished off to the side.

"Not so hard," Folken snapped.

"Shh," Sora breathed through her teeth softly when the air returned. "Take your time."

There was a mumbled apology as the boy furrowed his brow and tried again. This time, he reached out much slower and touched her forehead. It disappeared almost as quickly as the first.

"Good," she said encouragingly, even though the doubt about the successfulness of their endeavour still lingered. "Try and sustain it next time, and tell me if you feel anything."

Once more, from a thoroughly scrunched up frustrated brow, Dilandau's Dragon Power blasted forth and held itself. Sora was afraid it might begin to drill into her forehead.

"I don't feel anything unusual," the boy said with insolent bewilderment.

"Do not struggle, let your instinct guide you," came the prophet's voice. "Can you see anything?"

"My eyes are closed," he growled.

"She meant," Folken interjected crossly, "do you see anything in your he-"

A pre-emptive shriek from Sora punctuated his last word before that too was brutally stopped by the discharge of force caused by the faltering of Dilandau's control. The blow she could not fully dodge or defend against knocked her to the floor, colourless hair spilling around her.

Dilandau opened his eyes. "Weak," he muttered under his breath at the sight of the woman sprawled on the floor.

Folken was on his feet, head pounding doubly with the headache and annoyance. After sensing that Sora was still alive, he turned and gave the weaker dragon-born a motionless slap. "Work on your technique," he barked. "Dismissed!"

The youth rubbed his cheek sulkily, but retreated in haste, more out of surprise at being struck than anything else. No one except the Black Dragon high commander was able to hit him without him sensing something coming first. A whirlwind surrounded his head as he loped backwards towards the door, never taking his narrowed eyes off Folken. He kicked the door with his heel and those outside let him exit quickly. Before they could close the entrance for themselves, Folken shoved them all back and banged the doors shut himself.

Reverberating air overpowered the sound of the Dragon striding forward to where Sora was just pushing herself up into a sitting position. He crouched next to her. The seer's hands wandered over her lowered head and face gently, long strands of hair swaying, falling over her arms. Her breathing was shaky.

"Are you all right?" Folken reached out and with a finger tilted her chin up so he could check her for signs of damage. It would not do to have his prophet injured and frightened; it might affect her work.

Sora's hands dropped away from her face in astonishment. It was the first time since he had destroyed Nale that he was physically so close to her, but it was the first time ever that he had expressed concern over her well-being. She wondered if this was the change that she had sensed earlier upon entering the room.

Folken scanned her face, avoiding the gleaming eyes that somehow disturbed him, and found signs of possible bruising but nothing broken. As he did so he was reminded of the comments the Elder Council had made the previous day. It had never occurred to him to consider her beauty very much before, but now he supposed that the old men were correct in at least one of their theories. He would have to hide her for a while.

Without waiting for a response from her he made his own conclusion: "You are fine." He released her and stood up.

Sora did not, in fact, feel fine. Her head hurt inside and out and she was sure that if he had not stilled her for a moment by touching her, she would be shaking. The shock Dilandau had given her caused a reaction of disgust and she was aware of the encroaching urge to vomit.

"How much more practice do you think he needs?" Folken asked, looking down at the top of her head.

The nausea abated at the sound of his voice but her disorientation did not. She shuddered and then lifted her head wearily to look up at him. She took a deep breath and steadied her voice. "Even if you could give us a thousand years, he would never be able to see anything. I felt it in the blast."

"I thought as much," he agreed sourly. "There was no subtlety to his power, and there is no time to waste waiting for him to get better at it."

"He is not capable of vision," she clarified.

He did not look impressed. "It is not surprising that he lacks the ability. His blood is not pure enough."

Sora turned away from him, facing forward. "Few are gifted with all of your talents, Lord Folken, even among the higher born," she said sadly before lowering her voice, "and now none are."

He acknowledged her reference with a thin smile. Now that he was certain that he was the only one capable of harnessing her ability, he somehow felt more confident about her loyalty. It did not mean that she was less valuable as a seer by herself, however, and he found his thoughts returning to the Elder Council. He despised having an unexpected triviality forced on him, especially one as mundane as the one he was about to put into practice. He stared longer down at the still woman sitting at his feet.

She had expected him to leave long before now, or at least make some sort of demand, but she could not surmise any reason as to why he remained standing wordlessly beside her. She did not dare look up or move until he did something. With this anxiety, a miniscule part of her felt relieved by his strong presence after the terrible exercise. At least he was not angry with her, she hoped.

"Follow."

The one command pulled her head up and back to see him already walking towards the exit. Sora was able to rise and straighten her robes without too much difficulty, but keeping up with his pace was harder. They ignored the guards at the door and proceeded in weaving their way about the multi-corridor complex, climbing several flights of stairs to the higher apartments. When they continued beyond the wing where she lived to an area she had never been, she gravely wondered what had brought about this sudden change in behaviour from him. She was not privy to know the details, but she did know that he had gone to see the Black Dragon Elder Council the day before. That was the only major turning point that she could think of since he had not seemed at all surprised with the results of their session.

The halls they now passed through were more decorative than functional, even more so than the room that they had been in. Finally, they reached an enormous doorway with another set of guards who turned to attention with synchronized diligence. These soldiers, Folken gave the slightest of glances before they too were shut out of sight by the closing doors behind him.

One more room beyond, and Folken came to a halt and faced her. They now stood in one of the outermost rooms of his living quarters, Sora realized. A furtive cast at her new surroundings melted into a dark premonition.

Folken made love much the same way he made war: relentless, efficient without excess, and when it was over the emotional devastation was hers to suffer.

Sora shied away from the disturbing image of their warring bodies.

The Black Dragon did not appear to notice the flush of horror spreading across her face.

"The Elder Council has assumed you have the dubious honour of being my concubine," he stated flatly, without looking at her.

"I see," she responded coolly, repossessing her composure.

It was not something either of them had aspired for her to become. Sora could only feel the walls closing tighter around her, though most of them were paned glass offering stunning vistas of the clouds: mists that she might never soar among again, save only when she closed her eyes. Conversely, she had been promoted, in a bizarre fashion. The manner in which it took form did not bother her greatly; it was not an unusual development for someone in her position, but she had not foreseen it. Strangely, Folken seemed to accept the change passively, but then, she realized he could not be bothered either way.

She tilted her head up to look directly at him but could not hold his dual-coloured stare. "Do you wish me to share your bed?" It was an honest question, one not offered with fear or bitterness, but resignation.

He remained uninterested. "No." Following a short pause, he added, equally truthful, "I would prefer that you did not, but as a safeguard, rooms among my own have been assigned to you."

Sora did not ask why she needed to be safeguarded. He could not care enough about her safety to make such a drastic move on his own. It could only mean that he felt a threat from the council's knowledge of her existence. His actions were as much to keep up appearances as it was to limit her exposure to the spying eyes of rivals.

She bowed low to him but remained standing instead of sinking to the floor as earlier. "Whatever your wish, Lord Folken."


***
Gee, Folken, that's some proposal... '-_-
The details and use of their powers are pretty much all extrapolation.
Their emotions seem a little too familiar for being so early in their relationship, although Sora is hard to predict at this point.