Disclaimer: If I owned Escaflowne, why would I be writing fan fiction on it? O.o

Hiya all! ;_; Sorry for longer wait that it normally would be but with AP test season crushing every fiber of my being into flour for bread I haven't been able to do much. Promise that as soon as tests are over I will be updating more frequently. I love revising.

To Kriyn Dake: Thank you so much for your review! It means the world to me, really, honestly, truthfully, completely. I'm so glad that you want to know more of the plot. I'm so excited! I'm glad that Kari and Kosmos are fitting in well. I was worried because in my first version of Amaranthine, they didn't. That's why I revised it. ^_^ Thank you so much for the note for improvement. I'm definitely going to go back and change that so that it sounds better without the overemphasis. Once again, thank you so much. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

To all others: I know you're out there. I know it. Cause evidently I have ghost reviews floating around that fanfiction.net is not letting me have. But as soon as ff.net starts cooperating and giving into my demands that it bow to my every command and worship the ground I walk upon I will get a reply to you. Love you all!

"…" = speaking

~…~ = thinking

*edited* = a wonder censor for unappreciated language

Chapter Two: Into the Shadows.

The quiet scratch of quill against parchment made the room feel more oppressed than ever. Even the air was hard to breathe, a dark cloud brooding over all. Staring at the plate of food graciously placed before her, Kari felt nauseous, even the smell wafting from the eggs more than she could handle. Pushing the dish away, she slouched down in the uncomfortable chair, letting her gaze drift to the man at the head of the table.

A small sigh escaped her lips. Van looked tired and irritated with dark circles under his eyes and hair an untamed mop of black that fell into his eyes every time he leaned forward. She watched him trace a thin black line across the map spread before him. The next battle plan was being drawn up as the king sought for a better strategy. If one wasn't found, Zaibach would overwhelm them with just their numbers and sheer force. No wonder Van hadn't slept…

Merle's tail swished slowly back and forth behind her, the tip brushing against the ground. Sitting across from the redhead, she took it as an opportunity to study the curious woman without drawing her attention. Hatred for her had ebbed away a little every day, till now, when she looked at her, she felt only sorrow. She knew what it felt like to have a loved one torn away from her, thrown into danger, without hope of coming out alive.

Hand slipping from her lap, she reached up and clasped the nail file hanging around her neck. Holding her breath, her body went tense, hackles rising. Was she… was she actually worried about Kari? Hissing under her breath, her eyes narrowed. Just because one of the other creatures from the Mystic Moon was gone didn't mean she had a right to stop hating them. They were only here to take Van away from her. Just like Hitomi had. She had let Hitomi break Lord Van's heart and she wouldn't let it happen again. Lord Van deserved happiness, not misery.

"Sire," the voice shattered the tense stillness. Everyone looked up, distracted for a moment from their inner turmoil. The man standing in the doorway slowly continued when he saw he had the king's attention, "The council has gathered and is awaiting your presence."

The quill was placed back into its holder, the cap of the inkbottle closed. Nodding solemnly, Van stood, collecting the scrolls and papers scattered before him. Noting that those gathered around the table were watching, he grew paler under the pressure he knew rested upon his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the door and followed the man waiting for him out of the room.

Merle's ears drooped as she mourned his departure. He wouldn't let her go with him this time. With a quiet, distraught meow, she went back to her breakfast.

***

"Folken! Asturia's sending in troops and supplies!"

"I know."

The man's gaze was riveted to the end of the hallway, his thoughts hidden behind a mask of stone. Light glinted off his gold earrings as they passed under another torch, the patch of light quickly fading into shadow once more. He could feel Dilandau's aura vibrating with anger. Letting silence weigh upon them, he purposefully kept him waiting for something more to be said.

Dilandau let his hand stroke the sword slapping against his leg with each step taken. The scar along his cheek burned with dark memories, easily taking away all logical thinking. His fingers itched for his guymelef, for blood and slaughter. There was only one man keeping him from it.

"We can't let Fanelia get help!" he ranted loudly, the words echoing in the empty hall. "We have to take out the country in one crippling blow!"

Folken's head snapped towards the irrational youth. His calm demeanor had vanished, replaced by a bone-chilling glare. "You burned half the castle and killed numerous people in your rampage of the city," he accused sharply.

"So?"

He frowned darkly at the impetuous seventeen-year-old, but stayed silent. A couple of seconds later, he stopped in front of a plain, black door. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he waited. With a sniff, Dilandau looked away. Quickly Folken typed a code into the keypad. A soft hiss was heard as the lock was released and the door swished open.

A thoughtful look flitted across his features and he paused. "Where is she now?"

Dilandau snapped back to attention. Furrowing his brow, his confusion at the switch of topics was clear. "Who?"

"The girl."

"Oh, you mean her." A light smirk tugged at the corners of his lips at the thought of the girl clothed in Dragonslayer blue and black. "Down with the other Dragonslayers."

"Tell me, Dilandau," Folken asked with faint interest, "What was the purpose for bringing her here again?"

Crimson eyes smoldered as the youth gently stroked his cheek, "I suppose she can do for a hostage. Fanelia did seem to care about her."

"Hmmm…" An idea was forming within his mind. Things were slowly fitting into place. The girl was only another piece to the puzzle. Folken's response was distant, off in another dimension, "I'll speak to her when I have time and see if I can find out anything useful."

For once Dilandau found it intriguing that the Emperor would take interest in a simple prisoner. He cut through the air with a pointless gesture. "I can do that, if you wish, Strategos. You are already busy with matters concerning the sorcerers."

Folken tilted his head slightly, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. "You aren't planning on killing her, are you?"

"What gave you that idea, Strategos?" Dilandau stated innocently with a wave of his hand as he walked past him. "Don't worry about her. She'll be perfectly fine."

Hawk eyes glittering, Folken watched the young man disappear into the shadows. Something gnawed in corner of his mind, warning him not to trust the false assurances. He would have to keep a close eye on that boy.

With a quiet swish of his cloak, he entered into the brightly lit hallway. Soundlessly the door closed behind him, the locking mechanisms snapping into place. The silence of the place gave him fair warning. He was late. The sorcerers were expecting him.

***

"Gaddes, turn her 23 degrees west!" the man's voice rang clearly across the deck of the Crusade. With eyes focused on the horizon, Allen steadied himself against the turbulence that suddenly rocked the leviship. Rays of sun caught on the large windows, blinding him for a moment from the view of rustic Fanelia.

"Sure thing, Commander!" Gaddes grabbed the wheel, jerking it down. The ship veered left, straight across Fanelian borders.

Something was wrong. Allen could find no sign of the Zaibachian fortress. Everything was quiet… too quiet. It seemed unnatural. ~What are they up to?~ Words distinctly sharp, he called up to the higher level, "Pyle, keep a lookout!"

"Yes, Sir!"

Throwing caution to the winds, the knight had the Crusade continue on. They had to make it in. If entrance was successful, he would radio the Letilan, the leviship waiting back within Castelo Fort. They would report to Dryden, who would then, as promised, send in Asturian reinforcements.

Shouts were heard as the ship groaned and strained against something caught in the sails. Wood bent and snapped, canvas ripped and fluttered in the harsh wind. A bout of foul language rent the air, directed towards Gaddes who had piloted them too low.

"Pull up, *edited* fool!"

"Get out of the trees!"

"Now!"

Allen waited a moment for tempers to cool and the ship to rise higher, then spoke out. "Watch our position, Gaddes." Unlike the others, there was no irritation in his voice. To err was human. And they were all, definitely, human.

After a moment the Crusade leveled out and they were once again flying smoothly over the tops of the trees. All members of the crew kept one eye and ear on their duties and then the other on their surroundings. Like their boss, they were all cautious and wary. When it came to Zaibach anything was possible, unfortunately.

A couple hours later the crew let out a hearty cheer when they landed safely in Fanelia's docking square. Only Allen and Gaddes looked around suspiciously. Zaibach was planning something; that could be the only explanation for the Crusade making it past the small mountain range.

"What are you up to, Folken?" Allen whispered as the owl on his shoulder opened one glowing, amber orb.

Natal lifted into the air, spreading his wings with a shrill cry as he began to circle overhead.

The crew instantly went to work on tying down the leviship, making it stationary. While they were absorbed by their work, Allen started for the small group of people that had entered the docking square. Most were older men and a few samurai, but in their midst was a raven-haired youth that stepped forward as soon as he saw the man heading towards him.

"Allen, thank you for coming," Van greeted the tall, blond knight with relief, meeting him halfway across the square. For once he was actually glad to see Allen in his country.

"It's good to see you again, Van." The man addressed smiled and bowed slightly. "You've grown taller, I see."

Van shrugged, noting that Allen still towered over him, despite his growth of a few inches. "A lot of things change in a year," he responded lightly. With a wave of his hand he dismissed the matter and then took on a serious air. "Listen, I need your help with a plan against Zaibach."

Allen nodded. "We're here to help."

***

Kari had been following Merle around all day in a melancholy mood, much to the annoyance of the catgirl. She still couldn't believe that Kosmos was actually gone. It just didn't seem possible. Every moment felt like she would awaken from the dream. That's all it was, wasn't it? A dream she had wanted so badly to come true, to get her away from the monotonous life she had lived for so long. Now she was here, in a strange country, in a strange world filled with strange people and her friend being held captive by Zaibach. Not the romantic adventure she had read about and longed for.

Looking up, Kari realized they were once again in the dining hall. Time had gone by quickly after all. Maybe lunch would take her mind off everything, even if for a few moments. Following the bouncing catgirl to the table, she took a seat. The food was already set out. Were they expecting someone else? Her heart leapt as an image of the raven-haired king jumped to her mind.

And as if the gods had heard her wish, he stepped through the doorway, deep in conversation.

"No, Allen," Van growled, shaking his head.

"Van, the past is the past. This is the future of your country!"

"If you're going to argue, Allen, I suggest you leave." With a sigh of disgust, Van turned and faced the knight directly. "I do not have the time, nor the energy, to deal with your arguing."

Allen glanced past him, noticing for the first time the two women sitting at the table amidst the gathering of councilors. Slim eyebrows raised a little in surprise. "A visitor?" he inquired, letting go of their previous argument. There was still time to go back to it and convince Van of his foolishness.

Van shot him a piercing look as he laid a hand on the man's arm, gripping it tightly. "You're to leave her alone," he hissed.

"Red hair? Quite uncommon, I must say. Is she a courtier?"

Kari heard them discussing her, but she remained quiet, picking at the food placed before her.

"Keep your distance, Allen."

"She is a lovely lady--"

A faint blush crept into her pale cheeks.

"I didn't know you were courting, Van--"

She grew redder, this time from embarrassment.

"I'm not."

Kari flinched at the coldness of Van's voice. Thinking things couldn't get any worse, she nearly collapsed when a flash of blond hair was seen and the knight was at her side, bowing. Her fork clattered against china as it fell from her limp hand. Automatically her head turned and she found herself captivated by the deep blue eyes staring into her own.

"Allen Schezar," he spoke softly, his voice rising and falling in vibrant cadences, "At your service, milady."

***

The soft hum of machinery was heard throughout the rooms that occupied the locked-away level of the fortress. This was the sorcerers' dwelling place. Their humble abode as they called it. They lived, slept, ate, and experimented here, never leaving unless on a matter of business concerning their experiments. They enjoyed nobody else's company besides their own and that of the Emperor of Zaibach. He had been hated once, when he had left to become Strategos, a man with power higher than their own. Once they had been content as lowlife, but they wished for something greater now. That is why they allowed him back into their midst. Now as Emperor, Folken promised them the power that they so desired. They had an agreement with him in exchange for accepting him back into their field of study and work. He proved a valuable partner to have during experiments. His knowledge of science and mathematics was bordering upon genius, incredible and highly useful in many things.

"Subject four died this morning, Lord Folken," came the sorcerer's pitchy voice.

Together the two men walked through the medically oriented rooms.

"Was it the new mixture?" Folken asked without looking over at the man by his side.

"Yes," was the displeased response, "But we found the problem. We lowered the level of siltrate and it seems to be working in the two we tested it on." The black-cloaked man handed Folken a stack of paper with statistics printed neatly across them. Without another word, he lead him into a room filled with metallic tables. Almost every one of them was occupied by a creature of some sort or another, the last three being humans.

"I'm sorry I don't spend more time here," Folken apologized to the man, checking compounds as he passed by each labeled experiment.

"We know, Strategos, that you are fully occupied with this war. There is plenty of time for you to rejoin us later on when you have more time."

He nodded, flexing his synthetic hand absent-mindedly. "Report to me if there are any improvements."

"Of course, Lord Folken."

Once again the two continued on, passing through another door. White walls reflected dim light from the flickering lamps at the end of the room they had entered. A man looked up, then went back to his work monitoring a machine hooked up to the only table in there. The woman lying upon the table appeared as an apparition, fading in and out of existence with the lights.

"How is she?" Folken questioned, his eyes never leaving the sleeping figure.

"Fairly well," the sorcerer replied, gesturing over towards her. "We have her hooked up on dream processing. So far we've been able to keep her in the transitional state, but I do not know how long that will last. She is stubborn, my lord."

"Of course she would be." Turning, he faced the man at his side. "Let me know if anything new is discovered. I have other matters that need attending to at this time, if you'll pardon my departure."

"Yes, Lord Folken." The sorcerer nodded and then moved away like a shadow, melting into the shadowed corner of the room. Another sorcerer glided over to him and they began conversing in quiet tones, discussing a piece of paper held between them.

The towering, teal-haired man cast a foreboding shadow upon the floor as he turned his back on the men. A legend lie there on that table. There were suspicions of Dilandau's prisoner. Three left to find. Five to conquer. And then the world would be his.