Vis Arcana

by Rinjou

"Send me back! Send me back to my world!" Hitomi's wish had been fulfilled and everything she went through on Gaea had become a dream. After waking up in her old school's infirmary, she knew exactly what would happen in the next few hours, but not once again. She never left Earth that evening—and yet, the tarot cards had shown her the long and distant separation…

16. Chapter 16

[chapter version: 1.0, beta-read by Blue Funk]

Chapter 16

A deep breath, then another. The cool, thin air up here was said to be the same as when flying an Alseides. Of course, not many would get that honor. But anyone could dream.

The recruitment officials would come to Levini, and they were already the age for conscription.

They had to be ready. Physically and mentally. Because now that the Alliance was starting to get back at them, they would maybe have to defend their own country. Defend Levini… mother, Fina, baby Alec, and everyone else.

That was why they were climbing this mountain: a test of strength, endurance, and survival skills. It was a lonely mountain range in the middle of frozen nowhere, from the Zaibach side, at least. The peaks impossible to maneuver among, the winds breaking the sails, slamming the leviships into its sides. Guarded by it, Levini, even in the frozen wasteland, was safe. The nearest imperial-built fortress was ten leagues away in one direction, and twice as far in the other. Floating ones passed by, but not too often. Cesario had their own strongholds on the opposing side of the border, but this mountain was their fortress. Just for their town.

How could it be hostile to them? It was not trying to kill them, just testing if they were worthy.

The five boys breathed heavily but did not relent. The artificial fabric produced in their regional capital shielded them from cold and wet, the lightweight tent they bore in parts on their backs and the energist heater could shelter them well enough if they had to unexpectedly stay up here. Of course, nobody wished for a storm. They were just supposed to reach the peak and look at the other side properly, then climb down before dusk. No, as soon as possible. They started very early in the morning to make the way down before it got dark. Some of their little group had never been up this mountain, and none of them had made it to the top yet or laid their eyes on enemy land. And it was said you could see far… perhaps see some of the leviships flying between Cesarian settlements in the distance, and, if the weather allowed, even the stronghold in Telandir. That could be their goal to attack or occupy in a while, though there was no saying where they'll be ordered to.

Maybe to attack the traitorous Asturians to the south. Fly around the fortresses securing the territorial gains on the Egzardian lowlands. Or to guard the Power Spot in Freid, that would be the easier mission. Apparently, it was just annoying to hear the monks chant for a good part of the day.

Still. He hoped for something more heroic than that. He was afraid, yes, but also strangely excited. They would undergo training at the barracks. The ones with the propensity for it would get melef pilot training, and the best of them would even get to pilot a top-grade custom-made guymelef! Of course, everyone in their little group hoped to do that.

The view that was supposed to expand from the top was supposed to be the first glimpse of that anxiously-awaited future, the path to it leading up the backbone of their mother of a mountain. It required all your attention; one misstep could mean a deadly slip. Fortunately, nature smiled on them and they had a clear, sunny sky as a backdrop.

He stopped for a while and unfolded the map, secretly traced and redrawn from the one found at the command tower in Levini.

They should continue about five hundred costa this way, then a view of what was beyond the border should open in front of them. There, they would declare their own war on the Alliance, to those who were coming to destroy everything Zaibach had painstakingly built over the last century.

He breathed out as he recognized the landmarks from the map. They were close to their goal, and thankfully so, he was running out of strength himself as the leader of the group. Obviously, he would not show that to the other boys.

Next step, next stone, next crunch of ice underfoot.

Despite the mountain being snow-covered and frozen in places, he felt no cold under the sun. The gusts of wind made them crouch but not fear for their lives. The anxious coil in him started to unwind. They would make it. All on their own and in secret. He felt his heart constrict in pride and anticipation instead. Yes, there would also be the descent, but he did not want to think about it too much.

When finally, the far view opened in front of them, he held his breath. The world seemed vast, foreign, and unknown. And a realization came that he hadn't seen anything of it yet. For some reason, he felt tears prick at his eyes.

The forests of what was apparently Cesario stretched almost endlessly, covering hills and mountain ranges, smaller than their Mother. Only somewhere in the distance, a whisper of a silhouette in the mist, there were some that could compete with her height. Between the dark-green hills, valleys sprawled, wide and narrow. The most spacious of them held what must have been Telandir. A huge fortress of red stone governed over the town, and walls painted with mythical creatures and religious symbolism meant to protect every exit of the valley. The only openings were the massive rivergates. The biggest of them was said to be half a regular gate, half a river one, connecting the roads and waterways into one busy river port. But that was something he had heard and read rather than what he could observe right now.

Smaller settlements that were closer to the border could be seen in more detail, but they were just that: unimportant, underdeveloped villages. If Zaibach decided to attack from here tomorrow, the people would leave all their belongings and just rush to the nearest rivergate. They were training their eyes for some enemy leviships or guymelef, something they could take note of and bring back as pieces of important information. At least to them.

His best friend, now going by Viole, already took out his diary, sketching the view. Currently, there was no time to do so, but later in their hideout in an abandoned granary in the village, they would discuss this on the fireside, drawing up mock tactics and strategies of how they would take Telandir, then Illisir, the ghost town and previous abandoned seat of North Cesarian kings, and eventually, the current capital itself. There were no goals too big enough in that game of pretend.

"A leviship!" Viole jumped up from where he had sat on the ground and pointed.

All the boys immediately turned in that direction. It was small, even taking the distance into account. Probably just a skiff. They followed its movements, guessing where it could be headed. Either from or to Telandir, that was their best guess. They continued observing it for a while, but it changed the course very little. On the contrary, what seemed to be changing was its size. Meaning, it was flying on course towards them.

Maybe they were just adjusting course… because why else fly towards the impenetrable mountain? What for? The settlements were unimportant here, and the mountain itself… He looked down all of a sudden, eyes wide. Could it be…?

Walking around a bit, he tried to take a better look at the foot of the mountain. Of course, the lower peaks obscured it and if it really was as he suspected, then they would intentionally hide it as well as possible. He could not find any encampment for long miets, feeling almost then he saw it. Not an encampment, a column. Snaking its way up the mountain.

He used the only adult curse he knew. One that was certain to make his mother smack him if she heard, but he did not want to think of that.

The other boys spotted it, too.

"The Alliance dogs," someone uttered through his clenched teeth.

He nodded, disbelieving. Climbing the more difficult, deadlier Cesario route. With guymelefs. That was unheard of.

Yet he could see the dark woolen cloaks, the primitive drawn carts with their primitive tents, and even more primitive melefs. Most importantly, what were they doing here? There were supposed to be major battles going on alongside the front. But not here. Certainly not anywhere near here. Never.

"What are we going to do?!"

He watched the column crossing their way up a snowy plain, right below them. They were slow but would disappear from view soon. The boys were currently right above them.

They only had a short time and a decision ahead.

What are they doing here? echoed through his head. This was a military operation. Their town, they could only go for their town; where else? It was small, unimportant, weak. They could penetrate the empire much further before they would be noticed.

If they destroyed Levini first.

And what are we doing here, really?

The enemies were moving along the shallow ridge where it was possible to walk just in a few rows, max two carts or a single guymelef. They were so small right now, it felt like he could sweep them off the ridge with the palm of his hand. He wished he could.

Aren't we doing all this just to protect our home?

Then he remembered. The massive torn pieces of ice and snow that always slid down the steep valleys in the spring, taking everything in their path. If they could, if they managed to loosen one, they would be celebrated. Just the five of them, fending off all those men and their machinery.

"They are set to attack us," a murmur interrupted his thoughts.

"Bastards," "We cannot let them!" echoed the other boys, mindful of their voices but visibly perturbed. All eyes were on him now, the leader. He thought of Captain Albatou and asked himself what he would have done. He had been as young as them when he took out commanders, fortresses, countries. Fearless.

The Alliance men and melefs continued like a row of ants uphill where they disappeared In the shade of a lower peak. The window of opportunity was only a few miets wide.

"What do we do, captain?" Somebody voiced the question he had read in their eyes before. He was a leader. It seemed as if that had dawned on him for the first time.

The only thing we can do. The fear transformed into a decision inside him. It's the border of Zaibach. And we have to protect it while the floating fortress is away…

"We are Zaibach now," he hissed back, preparing for his quiet speech. The first serious one, and yet it seemed empty somehow. "On this mountain, we are the ones to protect the Empire. The Alliance vermin think they are smart. Crossing this range with melefs; a foolish notion at best. But we'll make it disastrous."

Their group has been preparing for combat for a few colors already. Knew the mountain passes, knew what to avoid. They were quick on their feet and had clothes of modern make: warm, treated fabrics that would not let the wet in. A heater for their tent they carried in parts on their backs.

The Allied fools had slow carts and even slower melefs, fires in their tents that had nothing to be fed on unless they burned their tents first. He could not even imagine making the path they just did with such equipment. So, what were they trying to do here? How many men did they expect to cross?

"Put your sliders on." Those were prepared for their descent; some parts could be traversed much easier and faster sliding down. That alone was worth their weight being dragged all the way up here, though they weren't that heavy, really. It was just that even the weight of a pebble in your shoe counted here. Something that the Alliance idiots did not seem to realize, bringing all that heavy machinery up.

They would have loosened the snow slip themselves, sooner or later, he convinced himself. Clumsy idiots. No surprise from the Southmen, but he would have expected better from the Cesarians, who were living under foot of the same mountains. But then again, he had heard they were people crazy about honor, willing to sacrifice. Perhaps that was why their country was standing, unlike many former neighbors now swallowed by the Empire.

What they planned was a similar kind of heroic insanity and far from safe. But far more dangerous for those down below.

They knew how to loosen a slab of frozen snow, did it for fun quite a few times when sliding downhill. Though they never tried in such steep and dangerous terrain before, and never so big.

It took a few miets but everyone soon was in position. He made eye contact with the others, one by one, then nodded. The boys started stomping. It made no sound but the top layer of dusty snow and ice began to move. Now they only needed a bit of luck.

It seemed like the slide would die off soon, way too soon, as he watched it with pleading eyes. The primitives still hadn't noticed anything.

Then he heard a particular sound, something of a yelp.

"Melil!" he screamed, disregarding their secret operation and code names. One of his friends seemed to have slipped down a few costa below. The younger boy had stabilized his sliders but his terrified expression foretold what came next. He was sure that Melil's final look would stay with him for the whole of eternity.

A giant slab broke off underneath him, his feet were taken from under him… the companions gasped and screamed… but it was lost in the pandemonium that started. In a moment, there was such a mass of snow on the move, none of them would have believed that a miet before. Then everything was drowned by the roar of silence. It really looked like a monstrous hand rushing down the slope before it lost shape and assumed the form of a giant cloud obscuring their view. It took smaller solitary trees and rocks with it, their snaps breaking the deafening silence that accompanied the destructive force. The primitives startled, their terrified warning yells echoing from the distance.

They'd done it. They were victorious but there were no cheers of joy from his friends. Something sickening spilled over his stomach, and he could not call it relief. Not when Melil was… lost, he had to admit, seeing the mass of snow and the destruction. He signaled the boys not to move, realizing it was his responsibility that they return home, too.

It was my responsibility… Melil. I'm sorry…

He tried to spot some movement but it was impossible. Melil had been buried by the snow and it was too dangerous to descend to find him. He kept his ears pricked, trying to hear him scream… but the only sounds he could catch were the distant ones of the barbarians below. He fought back the desperation that threatened to pour out of his mouth and eyes.

What will we tell his mom and old dad?

Even knowing that Melil's sacrifice led to significant losses of the enemies could not console him. He never saw such a destructive force of nature with his own two eyes. It would be a while before the mist of snow spray died down and they could inspect their handiwork. Honestly, he was terrified. But hopefully, so were the surviving barbarians and they would just go down now, never to return.

He squinted. All he could see was a mass of white ice and gray stone at first. Then he realized some of the gray spots were not tumbling stones but the frantically moving barbarians. Their rows seemed to be disrupted, they were panicking and torn between preventing another slide and saving their comrades in the monochrome terror.

Only then he spotted a few dots of color, approaching fast, way too fast. They reassembled and flew towards them, but he and his group couldn't see anything in the snow until it was above them, against the blue of the sky. His first thought was a large white dragonfly. It only had some short claws, one of them clutching an energist. The other was dragging a humongous sword, but upon seeing him, it just stored it away in its long torso. The head had several blue eyes of its own, but it was the dark-clad man on his back that had spotted him.

How could he have seen us from all the way below?

He started running. Some sort of flying melef, he realized then, but the freed claw was already grabbing onto him as he ran, lifting him above the ground as it landed, rocks and pebbles flying in every direction. He yelped, the air knocked out of him. The pilot jumped off and walked over to him as he struggled to take a breath. He had never seen a real Alliance guymelef before, though he had seen drawings of Chezarian ones. And he'd never seen a real flying dragon either, hence his initial comparison to an insect. These mountains were too cold for them.

A white dragon. Realization hit him. He still could not believe it; not until he saw the crest fastening the man's cloak. He had always had an interest in flags and crests. They carved out some of them for their little games of strategy and war. He was dead, he knew, as he watched the mad fury in the barbarian's eyes.

His captor got him under his neck and tore off his protective hood. Then those eyes looked surprised, but no less mad as his mouth curled in distaste. "What's your name, boy?" he spat in the thick accent of the South.

"Chesta," he uttered. He got the first pick, and he chose that name. Because he had been from these parts, and the Captain's name was off-limits. The barbarian's dark eyes went even more round, before they narrowed again.

Then his whole body was torn out of the claw without mercy and he felt cold metal against his neck. This was it, he knew, trying to be brave, hoping for it to be quick at least, like he hoped for Melil's to have been.

But he only heard a calm voice call out. "There are four of you, and you will come down with me peacefully. Or there will be less... if you think you can outrun me."

A rope landed at his feet. "You will tie them up. And make no mistake – you do a poor job, I'll take down the one you did it on."

---

The crew seemed grumpy, having been left in the dust. It was of little consolation that it was done by Cesario's flagship, the best technology the northern country could offer. Of course their good-old skiff was left behind. The men argued loudly about what propellers to get and what else to do to make Crusade faster. Even Gaddes, behind the wheel, seemed to have gotten a bit cranky at all that, yelling the orders sharper than was necessary. It took them two and a half days to get to the camp, whereas the Cesarian ship, familiar with the difficult terrain and fiendishly fast, must have arrived at least a day ago.

Allen seemed unbothered by all this, stealing secret smiles at her while he teased the Sergeant and his underlings. On the way, they dropped him off in a larger, well-fortified city, though she saw it only from an airfield. Allen said he had to send a report back to Palas and had some other errands to run.

"I would take you to look around the city, but I'm afraid the trip to that ugly fortress and to the camp would be quite boring," he said in apology. "Besides, it's safer for you up here with Gaddes and others."

"That's okay," Hitomi said, standing in the shadow of the Crusade. "But as a rule, I'm trying to blend in here, so please don't give me any special treatment."

She understood it would have given them some time alone, something that was almost impossible on the leviship. Right now, though, there was no one to be seen and she felt her heart speed up a bit in anticipation.

"I'm sorry. It's just that you're too precious. I'm already worried about seeing you in these freezing lands. They're hostile, and not just in climate," he put his hands on her shoulders, wrapping her cloak more tightly around her. "You should go back inside the ship."

"I'm fine." She was currently wrapped in a similar cloak she had slept under that one night in the Cesarian woods, but this one belonged actually to Reeden. His seemed to be the only one she wouldn't drag behind her on the ground.

"It's actually pretty warm," she lifted her hands hidden in the folds of the cloak. If she still got cold, she had the whole set of the alliance uniform at her disposal, as it turned out the Crusade crew all had them ready, but they preferred their usual garb with some wintery additions. Allen himself was wearing an off-white woolen cloak with golden details attached to the shoulders of his uniform.

"I must say I didn't know we had such pretty soldiers in our ranks," he snickered.

"Oh?" she tilted her head.

"It sort of confuses my head," he admitted and pulled her closer.

"I'll hurry back," he promised her when they separated again. The horse Allen had borrowed here at the air docks nickered impatiently. Hitomi almost blushed.

"How long are you planning on staying in Cesario?"

"Not long. I have pressing engagements in Freid. I'll just ask if they need our help, and take Van with us if he is willing to come."

"Be careful," she said as he untied and got on the rude horse.

"Aye," he saluted her, before spurning the steed downhill.

Once it had replenished some supplies, Crusade departed soon after, in the opposite direction. Hitomi got to observing the city as they gained height, which was unintentionally becoming her prime Gaean hobby. A mighty river fed from the mountains was running through the bottom of the valley this time, separating the city neatly into two parts with numerous tall, wooden bridges and leaving neatly through the gate, just like the citizens. The strong stream didn't seem to stop the inhabitants from using the river for transport, but it all seemed way less dreamy than the gently swaying Asturian gondolas. The army fortifications also seemed thicker, reminding her that they were closer to the enemy border. Not to mention that terrifying fortress. It sent shivers down her spine more than the northern wind did.

And they continued further up north, to the camp Van had marked as the destination of their original journey.

Which made her ponder what Allen had said before about him. There was no way of knowing what the king had in mind. Hitomi hated to admit it, but the whole leviship ride seemed more comfortable without him around, but it wasn't just because of their constant state of quarrel. Shamefully, she realized there would have been a constant worry of what Van could accidentally witness on top of that.

They had been in a similar situation before and it was the last thing she wanted to experience again. Though she had to admit the awkward feeling seemed to be all on her side, because the king gave no indication of being interested in her in any way. Some of what happened in the woods would pretty much convince any girl he didn't even find her attractive. Which would normally bruise Hitomi's ego, but then, she also knew that he was wired… differently, to say the least. And despite everything, that talk was something she secretly treasured and her mind often wandered back to it. It seemed something in her stubbornly wanted his friendship, against all reason and possible difficulty.

She had told Millerna she would not try to get romantically involved this time, but now, this had happened again. Her feelings could not be avoided, their pull towards Allen was something she could not deny nor regret, but… what was also undeniable was that only being separated was a weak guarantee that no one was getting hurt…

"There, the alliance camp," Gaddes pointed to the structure now visible out of the glass panes of the bridge.

It was spread out at the foot of the mountain, or rather, on a platform that was yet too low compared to the peaks towering above them. The camp looked similar to the one she had been to before. Except…they were harder to see against the white backdrop but there didn't seem to be as many tents as last time. Especially compared to how well-used the area seemed once they landed. The snow was stomped down and frozen, revealing a bit of brown below in frequently-walked places. If the temperature were to rise, there would be a lot of mud. That was the only reason to be thankful for the frost, though. Her cloak shielded her well, but the skin on her face was numb with cold.

Gaddes went out and found out that they had made another climbing attempt today, which was the reason why the camp seemed so empty. Van seemed to have left with them.

The crew decided to put up Allen's tent for it seemed that they would stay the night, maybe longer. It was a strenuous task that took the force of several men.

All of a sudden, she could feel a strange atmosphere, something inexplicable. Something was happening but she knew not what. There was some sort of dull rumbling the likes of which Hitomi never heard before. All the heads turned up towards the mountain.

She gasped. It looked as if steam was rising from behind some of the lower peaks. A mist that appeared so rapid, it could not have been normal.

"Gods damn it, a snow rush," some unfamiliar, older man mumbled through his missing teeth.

"Little lady, you should go back to the ship," Gaddes said.

"But…" she worried at the edge of her cloak. Did he mean an avalanche? Her heart started beating fast. There was only silence and that disturbing mist spreading, slowly settling. She could only think of the safety of one, no, two men she knew from that scouting group. They are safe, aren't they? Van could take off, saving them both if anything was happening. But the other soldiers…

"May have nothin' to do with them," Gaddes shrugged. "They're common in the mountains over the springtime."

"But it's their direction though, isn' it?" Katz mused out loud.

The dark premonition came true when the army spilled over the mountain, men running for their lives, melefs sliding and rolling down the hills. Fortunately, the slide did not make it all the way to the camp, but there was an avalanche of a different kind, landing on the camp that immediately fell under the rule of chaos. With many of the tents and carts they had had with them lost and broken, men were scrambling to save what they could because night was coming, and it was deadly in the mountains.

They asked about Van, then about the white guymelef when they were given just blank stares.

"There he is," Reeden pointed, pointing to the sky where a white dragon was making rounds. The melefs were all meant to be put around the place where Crusade was landed, so they just waited. The incoming men looked either mad with rage or fright as they approached to settle down their melefs.

"Not to get forceful, but I promised the Boss," the sergeant gently pushed Hitomi inside the ship. She had half a mind to fight back but it was difficult against someone who was nothing but kind to her, ever. She was led back to her cabin, her airing vent of a window facing away from all that was happening.

"I don't presume I need to lock you up, do I?" the sergeant asked.

"No," she sighed exasperatedly. "It's dangerous out there for the likes of me. I understand."

She was soon fidgeting, though, squirming in the cabin, and she knew she wouldn't manage to stay put. Various voices could be heard from outside, agitated, angry. The sun came down and she remained alone with her worries. Van seemed to have been alright, but was Cyrien? Were they not injured? How about the men? Were there significant losses?

It was all out there to find out. After all, Hitomi had promised herself she wouldn't cover her eyes before the suffering, hadn't she? And yet, she was sitting here, hiding away.

Hitomi put on the dark cloak and snuck outside. Allen's tent seemed to have been put up and there was a lantern inside, but she knew he wasn't back yet, otherwise he would have come to her already. That gave her a window of opportunity, because she knew once he rode into the camp, she really would not be able to leave her designated safe haven.

In the melef area close to the ships, she saw Escaflowne seated regally in its maintenance seat once again but she saw no sign of anyone she knew.

Hitomi let her only experience of a similar place guide her and decided to search out the command tent. It wasn't too hard to find; a huge, buzzing lantern. She snuck up near its entrance, pressing to the linen wall to stay out of sight. Before she could sort out her next step, a group of young boys was ushered towards the entrance, tied and on swordpoint. They seemed no older than fifteen, maybe even less. It was curious, but she could tell their age even with the sacks they had over their heads.

With no small amount of relief, he recognized one of their three guards, too, but there was no time for pleasantries. The group momentarily stopped before the entrance of the tent

She flanked the familiar guard who was uncharacteristically buttoned up and wrapped in a similar cloak as her. "Who are they?" His steel-grey eyes almost scared her for a second, before they lit up in recognition.

"Prisoners of war," Cyro mumbled, not showing much surprise at her presence otherwise.

So young… she wondered. Something was off about the group. Just young boys, no adult commander. Plus, while their getup seemed professional, it didn't feel like military gear. Yet they were blindfolded, bound, and tied together like they presented some great danger. Their feet could only shuffle. But mostly, it was their age that felt startling to Hitomi. And some deep sadness that their postures revealed.

She started to empathize with them for that vague feeling alone.

"Prisoners of war…? But…how are they even dangerous?"

"Oh, they are plenty dangerous. It was hard to keep them alive until this point. The men want their blood."

"What did they do?" She wondered aloud. What could they have done?

"They loosened the snow rush on us as we climbed, the little bastards. Whoever survived today can call themselves lucky for the rest of their life."

Oh no.

"How many dead?" she asked in a broken whisper.

Cyrien pulled her aside gently but intently. Then he continued quietly, mindful of the prisoners' ears.

"Nobody turned back to count. The soldiers just need to give a recount of their missing comrades."

Hitomi bit her lips. It was a terrible deed and she could see how the men would want their revenge. Still… "You had planned an attack against them."

"Yeah, we, the pissed-out folk whose borders were attacked first. Besides, we were just giving it a try; we didn't expect to cross the mountain today."

"But… they couldn't have known that. They were just trying to defend their home," she said with a wince, her eyes dropping to the ground.

Silence was her answer so she was forced to look at the blonde again, but he wasn't looking at her. His lips were pressed in a thin, straight line, which surprised her. She had imagined the lifted corners to be their natural shape. She thought the sparkle in his eyes had been genuine, but now… doubted even that. It seemed to have stirred her awake.

The former monk had been a soldier in this war for years, and while Van often looked the part of a haunted man, she had to remind herself that Cyrien had probably experienced much of the same. He had been up there today. He had been here alone until we came.

"Nobody cares what they were doing," the man before her said finally, just as she was about to apologize for her insensitivity. "But everybody knows what they've done. They killed dozens of men within one miet."

"Cyrien," she put her hand on his shoulder, trying to both communicate and find the truth looking into his gray eyes. They were at the same time duller and sharper than what she knew them as.

I do not know much, really. But one thing I know…

"I'm so relieved you made it back safe."

"Thank you, that's nice to hear after all those complaints," he supplied wryly.

"It's just…" she shook her head, but the worry had successfully settled in. "What happens with them now?"

"The war council will take a decision."

"You don't mean they'll…" the words got stuck in her throat.

"Have faith in him," he squeezed her shoulder like she did before, then pushed by her as the boys were ushered inside together with their guards, effectively cutting off their talk.

Hitomi stepped in after them, trying to stay under radar. Nobody even paid attention to her, all the hissing and curses were reserved for the little group ahead. She pulled up the hood of her cape that she was now wearing over her jeans and sweatshirt. Inside, it was quite toasty, with food and drink on the table. She strayed to the side of the tent, scanning the tent until she found who she was looking for. The king didn't seem to have noticed her yet, though his expression looked a lot like it often did when he was looking at her.

The man she recalled as 'chief' from among the Cesarian elite force raised his hand, successfully lowering the volume level in the large tent.

"The allied commander council will act as a court martial. State your names, ages, and ranks."

The boys did as they were told in a calm enough manner, but she still detected traces of fear in some. Moreover, the names… they felt like she heard them somewhere.

That can't be, she thought. The ages spoken could have fit, but the names… could they have been so common?

"Miguel Lavariel, 15, lieutenant."

No doubt about it, they were the names of Dilandau's squad. She knew that one name for sure, from when he had briefly been imprisoned in Freid. Miguel Lavariel had been the name of the interrogated prisoner who later escaped and was killed. Was it just a fake name they gave whenever imprisoned? No… she knew the other names as well … she must have heard them in her visions or yelled in some of the guymelef battles she was unlucky to have been part of. She still could pull Dilandau's voice from her memory, sending shivers down her spine. What kind of game was this? She thought she saw Van's cheek tug uncontrollably.

"Is that all of you?"

"…We lost one companion to the rush."

Hitomi understood now the sadness emanating from them. But the rest of the tent only mourned their own dead.

"Serves him well!"

"Devils should have taken all of you!"

Hitomi was still thinking of those names as something painful expanded in her chest. They couldn't be the same boys. Those boys died, Miguel by Zongi's hand, a few by someone else's… but most of them by Van's. So, what were they doing, impersonating Dilandau's squad? Weren't they civilians? Why not say so, surely they would be treated less harshly as non-combatants…

She was pretty sure, though, that those same names meant nothing for most, if not all the men here. Whether intended or not, it was a direct provocation to Van and she knew he wouldn't take that lightly.

"Make no mistake. They are not who they claim to be," he stood up, walking over to them casually. "These are no soldiers; I can vouch for that. I caught them running away like a bunch of lost puppies. They are just lost village children, playing games" he pulled the hood off one of the boys, supposedly their leader. "Look at how the Zaibach captain is supposed to look."

She was shocked to finally see the young face of the pale, ginger boy. On a second thought, he didn't look a day younger than Van when she had first met him. It was just them who grew up by now.

The youth's eyes flashed with anger. It seemed not all the fight was gone from him. "I spit on you, Dragon. If it weren't for you…"

"Now's your chance. Do it. Do it and see what happens," he came close to the boy. "What? Afraid to die? Or that I'm not what they had told you?"

Hitomi felt her stomach turn at these mind games the king chose to play with the kid. She did not recognize him at all.

The boy bit his lip and looked away.

"They have no business standing before a court martial. It's a disgrace," Van said icily. "Take them away."

"Not so fast…" another of the commanders said. "They have caused us significant losses and they will have to account for that hostile action. Their civilian status was revoked because of that."

"Then whadda we do with 'em?" a bored voice of the exceptionally brutish-looking soldier she remembered from the clearing asked. "They's just a bother."

"Maybe Fanelia should have his say, since he caught them."

"Does the war council agree?" The men looked at each other and nodded. It seemed they expected the prisoners to be bigger fish and they had lost interest in the boys altogether.

"Well then, Your Majesty, what do you propose?"

Hitomi's pleading eyes searched for the king's, but he paid her no heed.

"I think we all agree we cannot let them go. It was ill luck that they came across us. But attacking us was their own choice..."

Her stomach seemed to have dropped a few stories. He didn't mean to… he couldn't mean that, could he?! But then she recalled he would kill his enemies for less, for just a threat of what these boys were guilty of. But they were unarmed now, tied and harmless.

Surely, he didn't capture them just to kill them a few hours later?

Surely, he wouldn't punish them cruelly, would he?

She knew him this much, didn't she?

Have faith in him.

Hitomi knew she could; in that he would act with honor. But not with mercy. And she realized she had no idea of what the honorable thing was, how prisoners of war were handled here. Earth had conventions for war while Gaea… probably didn't. If it did, they could be pretty medieval. So there was no saying what Van would do with them… but if he even so much as said the words, no one would be able to take them back.

"They are just boys! You can't!" she screamed, attracting the attention of just about everyone in the tent.

Van looked at her wordlessly, with something like a disappointment written all over his face: what are you doing?! She tried to send him back the very same message sufficiently across the distance between them.

"And where did you come from, Private Sweetling?" Someone from the crowd already started teasing.

"Come sit here and tell me what we can do!"

Van walked over to her stiffly among the rough laughter of the men.

"The lady is with me. She is to be respected and protected, is that clear? She will leave the camp soon with Allen Schezar."

"Very well, Your Majesty," the terrifying commander said without a pinch of expression or humor. "Back to the topic at hand; how do we deal with the prisoners?"

"Maybe ask permission of your lady first," someone snickered and she flustered. If Van heard that, he gave no notion of it. Like anything else that was just said under breath and not right to his face.

"They will come with us on our next attempt," he said, his unyielding eyes not leaving hers for some reason.

She opened, then closed her mouth.

On their next attempt to climb the mountain? Did they not give up on the insane plan yet after this?

Disgruntled noises filled the area. It looked like the decision Van took was perceived as too soft.

"We have no yaks nor cart space to spare for Zaibach filth…"

"Who said anything about that? They have feet, don't they?"

She didn't like that, didn't like that at all, but for entirely other reasons as the rest of the company. Sure, it was better than the execution she had worried about earlier but still inhumane. The prisoners of war were not supposed to be dragged around and tortured… much less ones so young.

"We have summoned you here to help us cross but it almost seems like you're trying to jeopardize our plans, Your Majesty. Who can say for sure they won't loosen another slide?!"

"Careful," Van replied. "Don't give the tied-up snots any ideas if you're so afraid of them."

The man colored as half of the tent snickered on his account.

"They will slow us down," a new complaint came soon after.

"The snow slows us down. Melefs are slow too. Either they can keep up with the footmen, or they don't. We're not stopping for anyone."

She gasped, ready to protest. Somebody was faster.

"Are you sure, Your Majesty? Perhaps they would suffer less if we got rid of them right here."

The men hissed and roared their suggestions. "Yeah. Just throw those little bastards off the cliff!" She heard somewhere near her.

"We could kill them painlessly," a tall man offered, his thin mustache lifting with his smile. It seemed cold and evil to Hitomi. "Just hand the trophy over to me. I lost a good brunt of my troops today." If she dared to confront him, she would have asked what was planned before those painless deaths.

"No. I've decided. They are hostages."

"They are shit hostages; nobody would pay a dirty gidal for them," a new, gruff voice chipped in.

"Fair enough, but I reiterate that they are my hostages. I will confront anyone who tries to lay their hands upon them."

"Very well," the terrifying man she got to know as 'chief' back in the woods raised his voice after a long while. "Since you're owning up to them, I expect you will take care of them if they try to cause us any more trouble, Your Majesty?"

"I'm not exactly known for handing out chances freely, general."

"No? So what is to become of them after we cross the range? Will you release them?"

"I'll see. But if they can survive that, perhaps they'd deserve that, don't you think?"

"I don't know if you are more kind-hearted or sadistic, Your Majesty. The troops will have trouble crossing that range, and frostbite is just awful."

"I've decided." Van said slowly, fixing the man with a glare. "Unless you want to go back on your word or take it on with me."

And that was that.

Cyro helped to push the prisoners out of the tent, throwing her an apologetic shrug.

Van stormed off in another direction and she rushed after him, staying a few steps back but not losing sight of him.

He stopped for a while, without looking at her. "Where do you think you're going? The ship is the other way."

She let herself think about it. "To talk to someone I know... I hope to find him in his tent, so lead on."

Where was she supposed to go, anyway? She hated to admit it, but she had wandered off on her own again and would actually need to ask him to help her get her back… but she had other business to attend to first.

"You don't, really."

A wind picked up under the milky gray sky, hanging low over the mountain peaks. It seemed like it would snow soon.

"What, know you, or want to go there?" she murmured, more or less for herself.

"Neither," he said and started walking.

If that was supposed to scare her off, it wasn't working. It just made her angrier. She could barely hold herself back even before they reached the tent. Once they did, he stopped right in his tracks about two steps in, so abruptly she almost smacked into him. Instead, she made a few furious, hasty steps to get in front of him. The tent was cold by itself but he didn't even bother closing the flap behind them. She took it as a sign that her time here was limited.

She wasn't planning to waste any more of it, either.

"What did you just do there? How could you do that?"

"What exactly?"

"You subjected those boys to suffering. "

He looked at her in disbelief. "What was I supposed to do? Let them go with the information they gathered? Let them run to Zaibach and ruin our plans?"

"So, you would torture them instead?! Threaten their lives? They are children, Van!"

"We have enough children in our own ranks. How many do you think died today? How many would in the next battle or ambush, based on the information from these spies?"

"I don't know… but this can't be right. Dragging them behind… it's cruel. And if they don't make it? You will just leave their bodies behind like they were nothing…"

A draft from the entrance brought a few stray snowflakes from outside where the light seemed to be dying out already.

"Those are some hardened northern children who climbed the range from their side already. They will not die from something like that," he said, his tone changing to something more appeasing.

"So you don't want them to? Then why…?"

"They need to learn a lesson. To learn the consequences of their actions."

"You were the same age as them when I first met you. Weren't you much the same?"

"And I learned the hard way. As must they. "

"Or die in the process…?" She asked, more or less rhetorically. "At least have them captured in some town around here. Exchange them for some prisoners from your side. Surely, there is another way."

"No. They wouldn't survive long enough for that. And I have other plans for them."

He has plans…? "Is letting them die of frostbite or exhaustion part of your plan or more of a minor inconvenience to it?"

Van made one of his trademark dissatisfied sounds at that. "It's the only thing I could do in this situation. If you tried to not get hysterical for a miet, you would see it as well."

She saw that he was getting annoyed but calling her hysterical definitely wasn't helping her own temper. "How can you do this and act like you are better than Zaibach?!"

"Enough" he grumbled. "I'm done talking about this."

"I'm not! Did you just do it to save face before those men?"

His glare got almost menacing. "I advise against saying that next time."

"Or else what? Losing face is not worse than losing a part of who you are, Van. How are you going to act like the kind and righteous king after doing things like this?!"

Even before he said anything, she felt her hair stand up from the sudden surge of anger she felt from Van's eyes, his clenched fists, his posture.

"What do you care?" The tone was just icy. She wondered when his anger had begun feeling that instead of red hot. Maybe she was really trying to appeal to something lost…

And why did she care, indeed? What was it to her?

"I… I just feel sorry for the kids," she stuttered.

"How about the men who died today, buried alive or pushed down the ridge? Maybe I should fly you down there to see what remains of them?"

Somewhere along that accusation, Hitomi made an unconscious step back into the tent and away from him, illogically feeling more of the cold draft from the outside. She felt goosebumps under all her layers.

"I… I'm not denying their crime. I know it was terrible," she she continued to stumble over her words, shaken by the mental images and the change of demeanor. It seemed that it wasn't just the boy she had known that he was hiding behind his cold façade. She felt the weakness of her counterargument, moreso when he disregarded it and continued his terrifying speech.

"We can compare if it's better than getting trampled by a guymelef. Since you want to be a part of this world, you better get used to sights like that," he added, ruthlessly mocking her intentions. She kept backing up in horror, but he followed her like on a prowl. It seemed that she had done it now.

Whatever it was, the snap was almost audible.

Now that he had come closer, she could see he really was livid, not just trying to scare her off. He made another step towards her and she backed up right into the central pillar of the tent. The eyes pointed at her burning so intently she wanted to look away. Was anger the only feeling he would show now? No… she remembered him grieving over the dead in Fanelia. Some of their talks… She knew there was more kindness in him than he let on. She had always known it.

"Did you… get used to it?" she managed to get out.

I am not mistaken! And if she was not, then he must be hating this; the choices like the one today. Why wouldn't he at least admit that?

"Does it feel like the right thing to do, then?" she asked, finding a bit of resolve again. "And how you acted after the rite; is this how you want to be?" She had to force herself not to break eye contact. His eyes were so close, she saw the twisted crimson streams bleeding like lava into the abyss of his widened pupils. She felt a strange feeling akin to fear tug at her guts, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. But somewhere, inside she also found the strength that she was looking for. She could not give up… both for the prisoners' sake, and his.

"If you answer me that, I'll go down there with you. Not to change my mind. But to mourn the dead," she said softly. He closed his eyes. When he opened them again slowly, they appeared strangely tired. He kept his silence and it suddenly became unbearable for her.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I don't know what you want to hear. You should leave." He looked away from her, in the direction of the exit, signaling that their talk was over.

"Not before I get my answer," she said stubbornly. "You said you don't want the boys to die, didn't you?"

His face was still averted. "Look at me, Van?" She caught a whiff of something she hadn't seen in such a long time. It was always hidden behind the king's impassive eyes now.

Hitomi did not know how it happened, but their eyes met again. Did she really do it? Did she really tempt fate on an instinct, betting on someone she hadn't seen in years against the stranger he kept warning her about?

Had she really forced that fuming dragon to look at her?

She must have. Her hand was on his warm cheek and his face looked quite incredulous for a second or two, in an expression that was decidedly familiar from their past. Why would I trust what a stranger says, anyway, she thought as a warm recognition poured through her. Meanwhile, his hand stopped hesitantly just before covering hers, when the initial speed of its motion suggested he was about to swat it away. It was bigger than hers and cold but the warmth was already sparking between them.

"Don't keep shutting me out… please," she murmured sans thinking, invigorated by that small victory. Then the eyes softened almost into vulnerability, his lids dropped halfway. She unashamedly drank in that unusual expression,the warmth between his cheek and rough palm.

I've never seen anything so… she did not dare to finish that observation, but it resonated through her whole self. She felt his closeness more profusely than ever and her reaction to it was mind-numbing. What was more shocking was, a part of her did not mind at all. It roared for it as if it would help and give her all the answers and not overcomplicate things even further. He was so close but at the same time so motionless it felt like time had stopped.

Her move seemed to already be made… but was his?

Did she want it to be? Did she really…want that?

The shock of it – no, the truth of it – startled her. No way, she could not feel like this, not after…

Her eyes dropped down in shame at the polished brass ornaments of his uniform, trying to form a rational thought. Where were they before? Oh yes, the boys.

She looked up again with the renewed vigor. "We could help them escape. Nobody has to know," she whispered. For a split second, it made her feel like it could be a secret shared between two criminals. Or lovers, as anyone could assume if they saw them now. But then the thought process of her own realization mirrored in his eyes, before they settled on something like revulsion.

Or poorly hidden hurt, more likely. Less and less so by each second.

No wonder, she struck hard. She may as well have spat in his face. She would have wished for anything else at that moment, even anger and hate. Anything but that hurt. His pride, his sense of honor, even his feelings for her, however little or much they were, all at once, slashed through by those two careless sentences… her wish got fulfilled as she saw his eyes harden into unforgiving quartz. An involuntary tremble went through her hand under his, which all of a sudden felt deadly stiff.

It led to everything she had feared. He was thinking she was just using her womanly charms to save the boys; trying to make him do a disgraceful deed and betray his allies. It was becoming clearer by second. Like that time in the woods, and she was sure of that now. With cold logic, he concluded she would not want to touch him if there wasn't something else that she wanted.

"You would stop at nothing, huh?" Her suspicions seemed likely as he hissed, prying her hand off him forcefully. Even her embarrassed anger at him assuming… thinking that she would ever try to seduce him to do her bidding was nothing compared to the burn in his eyes.

"Wait…!" She grabbed his sleeve before he could pull away totally. For the love of all that is good, don't jump into conclusions like you always do... "Please let me explain," she stuttered.

But something she could not understand herself was inconceivable to explain. Feeling like this after what happened just hours ago in the woods… Just what was she?! How did she feel about this boy, then? It felt like this was a question she would have to ponder for ages, but it looked like she only had a few seconds before he successfully transformed all of his hurt into anger and threw her out of his tent into the cold, with no way of returning. She had not much time left but she had to at least stop him from taking it in the worst way imaginable… the way he was already doing, from the looks of it.

She kept pinching the fabric of his sleeve, desperate for a coherent thought, He seemed to have beaten her to it. "Should you be here now, doing this?" Though she couldn't see his eyes anymore, she felt them on that exact spot. She even detected traces of both mocking and hurt in his voice. Doing what? What does he think I'm doing?

"What do y－?"

"You know what I mean." There was not a grain of mercy in that statement. The air was knocked out of her lungs. There was only one explanation she had. He already knew the truth about what happened, she knew that, although she could not understand how… or how he could know, for that matter. Either way, it was the only conclusion left to her… he was ridiculed and livid, and he had all the right to be… It was because she had these strange feelings and never said a word of them to anyone that he was mistaken like this. What could she say now that would make him believe her? There was nothing... and yet, she had to try.

Hitomi let go of the sleeve gingerly and found the courage to look back up. "Van… I just… I know how you really feel. I'm not trying to use it against you." His eyes narrowed but in a totally different way than before. Dammit, no… that was not coming out right, at all. She meant his moral dilemma, but it sounded like something else. Like she knew he had some unrequited feelings for her… and pitied him.

And he would take that worst of all.

"Get out, I don't know what you want from me," he hissed, confirming her notion. She half-considered just doing that. She was not getting forgiveness for her mistake but that didn't mean she had to let herself be treated like this. Anger flared in her, mirroring Van again.

"Do you really take me for that kind of person?" Her voice was already failing. He did imply she was being masochistic before. Did he really think for the sake of the boys, she would be ready to seduce him? Or even worse, did he really think of her as an easy woman?

His reply came in half-whisper. "Allen must be back by now. I take it you'll find better company in his tent."

That single sentence confirmed everything she had suspected and yet shocked her so much, she once again did not even know how her hand darted out. He apparently did, because he caught it mid-air like it was nothing. Not even blocking… he caught her wrist. From the outer side. Electricity ran through her whole arm. His face was almost surprised, as if he didn't expect that reaction from himself, but his grip was so strong for a second, she was at the brink of a whimper.

It revealed a certain vulnerability of hers she hadn't been aware of. At least, not consciously. That cold anger, that strength he used to say would protect her, suddenly gained a new, frightening meaning. Her eyes went round, a panicked flutter settling inside her chest. She realized how alone she was right now, how she could not get through to him, how angry he was and how cruel he could become to others when in that state.

"If you try to do this again, you may come to regret it bitterly," he advised in a low voice, and even if he had meant the slap attempt, she couldn't help but think the warning also applied to the one that came before. Yeah, she knew. After today's encounter, she was sure he was capable of anything to save face. And his anger seemed uncontrollable. Her heart felt like stopping.

She was too afraid to look into his eyes anymore and see what she would find. She still felt his fury, the puffs of his breath against the crown of her head. Why was he not releasing her hand? Was he considering taking her on that stupid, imaginary offer? Tears sprang in Hitomi's eyes. No. No… he could not be like that. She knew him. He would never… What, say what he just said? Hurt me like he just threatened he would?

She looked at the wrist of her impulsive right hand, still in his possession. She closed it, feeling like it retained some memory, a bit of warmth of the previous touch even as the cold draft settled between them again.

It's my fault though… why did she have to start that, without understanding anything in the first place? Not even myself? Did I hurt you first?

A few persistent tears escaped her against her will. She definitely didn't want to let him see them, probably would seem like a trick to him like everything else. He would not trust her now, no matter what she said or did. Hitomi hated him for that, but herself for her faults, too. She bit her lip to stop herself from making any sound.

Then her blurred gaze caught a glint of metal and suddenly his whole frame all but flew away from her.

Her confused, tear-filled eyes could only make-out the huge, dark shadow that replaced the man in front of her. A scream of horror got stuck in her throat.

---

"Van… I didn't expect you to come say goodbyes to me of all people."

Unusually enough, the king didn't just barge into his tent without as much as a greeting; he let himself be invited in. Allen had heard old wives' tales of monstrous beings who did that, then killed the host in some gruesome way. He just did not remember that particular scary story to be about Draconians, for once.

"And yet, here I am…" his visitor scanned the corners of the tent with bleary eyes. But the way he said that already told Allen that he wasn't sober. Or rather, he was hungover. Something else told him: heartbroken. Without a warning, Allen was so reminded of himself at a certain age in his life that it made him want to slap his visitor right across his face, just to make them both snap out of it.

As if there was no other reason.

"You argued with Hitomi. I don't think I need to remind you what happens if you hurt her ever again."

Van ran his hands up his face in a frustrated gesture. "I don't know why it's her concern no matter what I do…"

"Because she thinks of you as a friend," Allen smiled. "Is it so hard to accept that?"

Allen was sure Van got the meaning all too well. He watched the king's poorly hidden disgusted grimace with little satisfaction. The raven-haired youth all but shook his head in disdain, probably thinking he got the higher ground somehow. Which, of course, was a lie. He had just given up in spite of what he felt, which was somehow worse than losing.

Allen was disappointed.

It seemed only in this regard, the boy would never satisfy his rivalry and give him a good fight.

"Give me a break," Van said, confirming his notion.

Remembering a certain young knight who let the love of his life be taken away from him without as much as a word of protest, he even felt a mild disgust. Perhaps the king was just unlucky he got here after Allen heard what he did in Fanelia. It was everything that Millerna had said that still kept him awake at this ungodly hour.

"So, you're saying you didn't miss her at all?" Allen asked, against his better judgement. "You think not facing your heart makes you stronger? More of a man, perhaps? I would have thought Balgus taught you better."

The king's eyes almost didn't betray his surprise at those words. Almost. "That is of no consequence," he said finally, looking away.

Allen snorted. "I beg to differ. We both know-"

"Same to you, then." He had felt he had the king on the defensive but he just pinned him with his eyes, unrelenting. Allen eerily recognized that pattern from their sparring matches. "Is it pride that's stopping you from admitting your feelings?"

"What?"

"She left you before she could give you her answer, didn't she? Was your pride hurt?"

"Careful there," Allen frowned. His proposal to Hitomi was not something he'd make light of. He had told him that to be honest with him, but he wouldn't ever expect Van to ever use it against him like that. Maybe a sparring match was not such a bad idea after all. Perhaps he could sleep peacefully after knocking some sense into the boy's head yet another time. Shame that he didn't seem sober, still, and he had no interest in an unfair fight. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"She keeps asking why she's here. Why don't you just tell her the truth," Van said, tracks of mockery in his voice. Allen didn't like where they were leading.

"What truth?"

"That it was you who brought her back. I'm sure she'll be thrilled."

"I don't know that," he breathed out with a disbelieving smile. What was with the boy, suddenly starting this? He never had before. "And I don't need to score such cheap points," he recovered his humor, leaning back in his chair casually.

"Allen. She deserves to know," the king said, suddenly all serious. "She thinks I brought her back to use her in the war."

"And didn't you? Weren't you the one who had asked her for help last time?"

That seemed to have made him mad; finally, someone Allen seemed to recognize as his comrade, not some warped picture of his own past. Or someone else entirely, someone who suddenly was wise or stable enough to reprimand Allen about his feelings.

"For the last goddamn time; it wasn't me."

"How can you know?" Allen propped his chin up in mock interest.

"I can tell," the king said as if it was the most obvious thing and yet at the same time something he would rather not talk about.

Allen immediately felt more at ease, seeing that discomfort in him.

"Is that so? Pray tell, how?"

The king sighed. "How do you know you can walk? That you won't cut yourself with your sword? That your limbs will follow your orders; how do you know that?"

"Are you saying…?"

"The cursed blood. Draconians know what they are capable of. I cannot explain it to you otherwise."

He had no answer to that. Were they really so different from regular humans? No… it was the power of wishes Hitomi kept talking about. They were more aware of it, more responsive to it.

Meanwhile, Van seemed to have taken his silence as a lack of understanding. "Imagine, someone like me, left alone in the world. How do you think you would know you could fly?

"You can always try just spreading your wings where you stand."

Van shook his head, making a 'what an idiot' kind of expression. Like this was a normal conversational topic to someone like Allen.

"Until there's danger… you'll never really know if they will carry you, or how long. Not until you fling yourself from a high place, facing death. It's like the abyss calls to you. It was like that for… the people of my family at least. You have to present yourself to life's dangers to spread them, for the first few times at least. But you just know you'll be able to do it."

Allen nodded. It did make some sense, but of course, he would never be able to understand exactly. Meanwhile, his counterpart continued grimly. "How do you think I knew I could achieve synchronization with Escaflowne? Something… told me."

"I thought Hitomi had taught you," he reminisced aloud. "She blamed herself a lot for it, when you got injured in Freid back then."

The king's expression got pensive as he recalled the incident himself. "I just… utilized her method of channeling thoughts. She has nothing to do with what I used it for."

Allen shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around it all.

"And that something didn't… you didn't feel the ability to call her back…"

Van nodded.

"It felt impossible… and futile. Like breathing underwater."

You just told me you tried, Allen realized. Or at least thought of it. Are you still drunk or are you taking me for a fool, Van?

Nevertheless, he decided not to comment on that further. He understood better now. And it didn't feel too fair after what had happened in the forest.

It seemed they both had their own means of dealing with her sudden absence. If Allen believed he could bring Hitomi back… would he have done that? No, he didn't think he would. He had to respect her decision, no matter what he felt. "So, you're saying I caused that? I definitely don't feel such an ability in myself."

Van shrugged tiredly. "I don't know, Allen. But your father called the girl back to the Mystic Valley. Why don't you just try facing your heart, then?"

The dry comeback grated on Allen. No, everything about this did. The king looked like he would like nothing less than continuing this talk, so did he. He would have time to figure out how he felt in Hitomi's delightful company. Which the king was anything but.

And, unbeknownst to the boy, there was a development present. Since that encounter, he already felt somehow more alive than in a long time. Perhaps he should just cut him some slack, though he knew about Van's own feelings and felt the urge to counterattack again.

He bit it back, though. It wasn't necessary. If Van wanted to insist that she meant nothing to him in that regard, fine. It would only be less awkward between them if it was true, after all.

"Is this what you're wasting your sleep on?" he tried to change the topic. "You really should get some rest, by the way. You look terrible."

That wasn't an empty jab, Van looked like he slept with a wet head, his crumpled shirt was only tucked in haphazardly; besides, he must have been cold outside like that.

But mostly, it was the look in his hollow eyes.

"No," he averted them momentarily. "You started with this. I came to ask something else."

"Be my guest, then," Allen turned his palms up nonchalantly.

"Right, speaking of, what the hell is he doing with you? Are you taking him to Freid?"

"Who are you talking about?"

"You know very well who."

Did the man leave the ship, after I explicitly forbid him to?

Allen let himself sigh. "That's classified, Your Majesty."

"Classified even to Asturia's allies? I'm sure they would be interested in whatever business you have with the neutral Freid."

"Whatever gets disclosed or not is not my decision…"

He watched Van screw his eyes shut and sigh impatiently before he could even finish the sentence. "Don't bother playing these stupid games with me, my head hurts more than enough already. I know it has something to do with the Power Spot."

"Again… I cannot tell you… Van," Allen reinstated with the name, hopefully communicating that he could not talk of this, not even with his friends.

"Fine. No need… but Allen…" his tone turned almost desperately insistent. "You can't allow him access to the Power of Atlantis. He wants it. He would be willing to sacrifice Duke Chid, his country… not to mention your people, without a second thought."

"Aren't you overdramatizing this? Your brother is a changed man, isn't he? I don't see him as much of a threat, to be honest–"

"Then you're putting both the Duke and Hitomi in danger!" Van bellowed.

"Is this what it's about, after all? Allen smirked. "Am I supposed to let her go with you? Did she tell you a dragon almost got her in the woods the last time?"

"She didn't." His face got hard but he didn't seem all-too surprised.

"You didn't know?" Allen could not understand why she would not tell him. And what they could have talked about if not such things.

"Doesn't matter. It's not about that."

"No?"

"No, damnit, listen," he almost expected him to smack his fist upon the table, and old Van surely would, but this one refrained from such childish displays. He leaned over and looked him in the eye, though, not even blinking. Did he really grow up somewhere along this bloody madness? Allen wondered. Van was the same age he himself was when they had first met. And had seen more of war and intrigue than Allen had at that point in his own life. But that was not all there was to the world.

"I know I can't protect her better than you can." That single sentence told him all he needed to know. The boy thought he was being selfless… like he once had himself. How dare you reprimand me when you faced nothing, you fool.

Allen leaned back in his chair, thinking. Whenever he was feeling kind, he would almost wish Van had set his eyes on someone else; he could give him some piece of advice he never would get from any of his ancient mentors in Fanelia. But the king seemed irritatingly stubborn about this. Unfortunately for him, as recent events showed, so was Allen.

"I entreat you. I already owe you a lot, but these two are the biggest requests you'll ever get from me." There was desperation in his eyes as he said that, adding to his whole wretched look. "Since I don't seem able to do either."

How could he? How could he tell him he had a miniature Atlantis machine on board, and it was just about what he was ordered to do? Yes, he could confide in Van and reveal all of his plans, like he did with Millerna back in Fanelia. But he would have to reveal way more for the treason he was planning to make sense, probably. Like revealing the truth of Chid's parentage. He knew very well how it made him look.

Somehow, he did not want to strip himself of all of his honor before this boy of all people, shameful as even the notion was. He did not know what happened between the two and Hitomi had been uncharacteristically vague saying that they had had a big argument about the captives and that she would turn in early, retreating to the cabin at the ship. Allen was slightly tempted to go give Van a piece of mind himself. But here he was, quite obviously being the one defeated, hurt, and asking Allen for help.

And Allen was still trying to make himself look better before him than he was.

He was a disciple of Balgus… he should be above that. His master would never admit to feeling even a bit of enjoyment at besting his opponent and Allen rarely did himself. It was disgraceful to show, to even feel mirth at somebody else's defeat. Why did Van bring out this pettiness in him? Dealing with him, Allen retreated somewhere to the point in his life and maturity when Balgus found him.

The legendary swordsman must have found in Allen what Allen had seen in Van near Castelo. An angry child, rushing to his death. Perhaps he knew the reasons behind his pettiness after all, recalling his feelings upon the king's entry.

"If not for me, do it for Freid… prevent it from entering the war again. Remember the late Duke's sacrifice?"

Allen nodded. "Of course I do." I will never shake the guilt of that. After a short moment of hesitation, he added: "I'm not going there to drag them to war and destruction. Never. You have my word for that."

"Then you must do as I say. Even if you have to kill him… Folken can't lay his hands on the Atlantean power."

Allen rubbed his chin in thought. Since when was the relationship between the two so dramatic? Oh yeah, he remembered. Since ever. "Kill him… isn't that something you wanted to do yourself?"

"I… was not able to," the young king said, admitting his weakness where Allen couldn't. "I should have done it long ago. Even summoning all the rage and cold blood I had in me, I couldn't do it, Allen."

The king looked as if all the gods and the dead would come and scorn him. But if he thought Allen would, he was mistaken.

He pursed his lips in slight shame.

'Sometimes, it's harder to trust someone than to fight.' Way to take your own advice. This boy, the first thing that Allen had got to know him as was mistrustful… and he just told him something from his heart like that. What did that make him? Why could he not reciprocate? Thinking of his recent talk with Millerna, he felt almost desperation. Why couldn't he ever…

But he could still honor Van's request, couldn't he? He already settled on disregarding Aston's orders if it meant protecting Chid. He just didn't count on Folken having enough investment there to cause him any trouble… Perhaps that was careless and he should have. It wasn't like Van's request was conflicting with any of Allen's intentions. On the contrary...

He thought of it for a while, imagining himself in Van's situation. Dilandau, his enemy, being captured in Asturia, now that he knew the truth of his existence. Or his father, whom he once blamed for most of his misfortune in life, appearing on the doorstep of his villa. Would he be able to punish them capitally himself if honor dictated it?

Maybe he would have, at one point. Not knowing all he did now, after father's diary, after the Mystic Valley, after the revelation of Celena's fate… The knowledge, the information lessened his rage and turned it into something else. If Van wanted to kill Folken, he should have done that while he knew nothing more than his betrayal. And then try living with the regret.

On the other hand, if someone like Folken stood between Allen and his plans of protecting Chid, he would remove him by any means necessary, without hesitation. His rage at knowing what became of his sister has barely subsided, and he couldn't help but associate Folken with it. He had been wearing the sorcerer's cloak for too long to be free of blame.

Anyway, what could possibly upset Van so much about his brother and the Atlantean power? It didn't seem to be simple anger or revenge. If he came here, against that stubborn pride of his, to ask help of his rival… then it was very serious. But Allen was not known to make half-hearted promises or decisions based on hearsay. He would make his own conclusions. Therefore, he carefully thought of how his answer should be worded.

"If it comes to the choice between Freid and your brother… I will do it, Van. You have my word." He extended his arm and Van took it, freezing him with his uncommon eyes. His answer seemed to have satisfied him.

"Thank you. I know it's a lot to ask."

"You would do the same for me," he said, without too much thought. Then he was reminded of Celena again and had to look away.

The one you want to protect the most and the one you did out of honor are mortal enemies, the woman had said. For one to live on Gaea, the other one will have to perish.

It was something he remembered after he had left Folken's lab. Soon after Hitomi's departure, he let a reading be done to him by a woman in a wandering troupe that came across the Palas bazaar. He didn't know why he did it… perhaps he had hoped to find some information on Celena after her mysterious reappearance. Perhaps it was just on a whim. Or he had simply missed Hitomi.

Except he would never trust a wandering fortune teller as much as that.

The woman's tools were different, sticks and bones thrown around as she looked at them meaningfully before voicing her prophecy. He had discarded it with a polite smile at the time, but the truth of it had come to laugh in his face recently.

It all reminded him, it all pointed to what he would rather forget. But never could, nor could he do anything about it.. Because it had already happened. He knew which of the two lived, after all.

You would do the same for me.

He clenched his teeth in sudden anguish.

Fortunately, the king had already turned to leave.

---

"Are you alright?" she heard Folken's voice. Hitomi nodded slightly, focusing her eyes behind him, at the other dark-clad individual. Picking himself off the rug-covered ground, he certainly looked much less menacing than a few seconds ago.

"You… don't you dare touch me!" Van hissed at Folken.

He looked a bit in pain and she wondered what exactly Folken did.

"Behave worthy of your name and I may not have to."

Van scoffed, "You're reading too much into it. Must be your villainous past."

"You were obviously scaring and hurting her. "

Van was finally upright, brushing himself off. "She's not scared of me. If she were, she would not say half the things she does."

Hitomi winced. Right now, she could not summon a word.

Folken seemed to have noticed and gave Van a measured look over his shoulder. "You disappoint me, brother."

"Do I now," the king scoffed. "I thought the pleasure was all mine."

"Take it on with me, then. I'm more of your size."

"Be my damn guest since you invited yourself in."

She saw Van clench his hands and felt a new wave of unease. No way he would attack Folken, would he? No way they would brawl here of all places. And what for? She took a breath, trying to think of something that would stop that from happening.

"What is your explanation for this?" Folken said calmly and Hitomi felt a bit of relief. She could at least bet on one of them to act reasonably.

"I don't need to explain myself to you. It's none of your business."

"You made it my business when you threatened her. King or not, if I need to teach you manners at this age, I will, little brother."

The king scoffed but she used the moment before he could form another whipping reply and raised her own voice.

"Folken… thank you, but… he's right, it's between us." As much as their relationship was out cold now, she had to give some right to Van on that. She didn't like anyone to be interfering, especially if they got the wrong idea like Folken had. And there was also that misunderstanding that remained hanging in the air, and now it seemed to be cursed to stay that way. Not that what Folken said wasn't the truth. She admittedly had been scared but not of being assaulted physically. Though she would be lying if she said it hadn't crossed her mind at their previous exchange. More importantly, she would never admit to even a bit of fear right in front of him.

"Nevertheless, that kind of behavior towards a woman is a shame not only for you, but for your whole country, even. I am also starting to notice you acquired a taste for the cups and it starts to worry me."

She looked at the king anew, wondering why Folken said that. Had Van been drinking? If so, she hadn't noticed.

Meanwhile, Van scoffed again. "I won't hear that from you! Just take her back to Allen and leave me the hell alone!"

"Is that what this is about?" Folken said, and she was surprised to hear a bit of mocking in his voice. "If you are upset about where she may go, perhaps you should not keep sending her there."

Van bristled. "How long were you standing there, you bastard? Are you coming to snoop around me now?"

"I just came to speak to you about what happened in Fanelia. Last thing I expected was to find you harassing a girl smaller than you."

"I'm not harassed so easily," she interjected, but only looking at Folken. There was no reply from the other side.

"If you say so," the older man said after a while. "Then perhaps I can get back to the original reason for my visit," he turned to his brother in an unspoken question.

"There's a new team on me, you said so yourself in Palas. What else do you want to hear?"

"They didn't attack?"

Hitomi chose to answer this time, since Van seemed to be in no hurry to do so. "We lured them away. They seemed to care only about the guymelef."

"Interesting… I heard the sickness got under control as well, more or less. We stopped in the capital on our way there…"

"You went to Fanelia?" Van's glare gained a shade of incredulity. "Do you really have a death wish?"

Folken shrugged coolly. "I am a guest on Schezar's ship. I don't decide where it goes. But I was glad to find out the worst got averted."

"Don't pretend you care and just get to the point."

Folken sighed. "What happened just proves what I had said. The Emperor wants Escaflowne. Intact, and in his hands."

"What, so he can build another world with his cuckoo machine?" Van scoffed.

"Do not underestimate the power of the Destiny Alteration Engine. Have you not seen what it's capable of?"

"What exactly do you mean? The catwomen you drugged to fight for you, which eventually killed them?"

By the looks of his stiffened shoulders, Folken finally seemed to lose his cool.

"You know better than anyone that the effects were real. You fought them."

"Then why didn't you change their destiny to not dying? To defeating me?"

The older man shook his head. "You're speaking nonsense. It wasn't my goal to defeat you. They were not–"

"Not important enough, right? For you and your grand plans."

Folken took a step towards him, not averting his eyes. Hitomi felt uncomfortable watching their exchange. Their eyes bore into each other with such an intensity, her hair was standing on end.

"You are telling me this as if I did not realize my mistakes. As if these were not the exact reasons I am standing here today!"

"You are only a little too late, as usual. Not too long ago, you would have played happily with people's fate."

"So," Folken chuckled, "you do believe Zaibach can do that, then."

"I frankly don't care. Can Dornkirk change destiny? Fine," the younger man hissed. "Then he should change it in a way that does not make me come after him and chop his head off. Because that's what I must be destined to do, considering all the evidence. And when I'm done, it's your turn…"

She felt like she was going to be sick. "Enough! Are you even listening to yourself?"

"Don't meddle in this, Hitomi."

Folken watched him, still relatively unfazed. "You are not on the right path. I told you. The dragons will keep attacking if they see the blade and sense your fear. I told you to part with Escaflowne, remember? It will lead you down the spiral of revenge…"

"Shut up!" Van roared. "For the last time, I won't take counsel from someone who burned our country down! You could have come back at any point before that and advised me to your heart's content!"

"Return to Fanelia?" Folken tried the words in his mouth, almost as if he had never considered that. "You really think I could have done that? As a failure, I would have only brought shame to you and our clan, wouldn't I?"

"It's your pride that would have been hurt first and foremost, and you couldn't take that. The thought of being stuck in Fanelia, subordinated to your stupid little brother! You would rather see the whole country burn."

"Van…" Folken said sadly. She saw his brother's words reach his heart. Had he found a bit of truth to them? She could not have known.

"What, you think you are the only one who knows his blood, huh? You always thought you were too good for that. Too good for our country! You think yourself better a slave to the Emperor than a prince to Fanelia!"

The rawness of the emotion in that speech shocked Hitomi even more than Van being able to put something like that into words. If time healed wounds, it felt like the last five years were not enough. Not for wounds that never closed.

"I would have bled out if it wasn't for Dornkirk!" Folken clenched his artificial claw. "Was it so wrong or dishonorable of me to try to repay him for my life? Was I supposed to turn my back on him and run away? The least I owed to him was to hear him out. And the things he said made sense to me! Unlike killing a dragon, for what exactly?"

"For what? How about for my country?" the king wondered in disbelief. "Or for my brother. So that people can finally forget his failure… to avenge his death!"

Folken paused and a sad realization hit Hitomi… they were both doing things for each other, but missing each other. It seemed Van would go slay that dragon in Folken's stead, and that Folken would burn down the whole forest so he wouldn't have to. Except their timing was off.

The dragon is already slain and the forest is already burning. They can't escape it, nor their destiny anymore.

"That's the very problem," Folken continued quietly after a short pause. "The beast cannot hate, it is not your enemy. You do not need to kill it to be a good king; what a foolish superstition! So deeply rooted in the minds of the people they can't do anything but continue the cycle of hatred."

"Zaibach started that cycle anew, so don't pretend you have the moral high ground."

One brother is trapped in the midst of the fire, the other unable to put it out alone.

"I can't do anything like that," Folken said with a tinge of regret, but did not relent. "But when you look deeper into it, it's this kind of superstition that leads to wars on Gaea. It's the fear produced by superstition that made humans kill beastkin, to turn one country on another. The answer to this is only science! If you know the mechanics behind things, you won't blame curses and other people for them. If you understand how dragons behave, you can root them out without lifting your sword. Or cohabitate, if you prefer. What have our rites done but killed the poor beasts and powered machines for more killing?"

"And what has your science done for Gaea? This?!" Van pointed his hand sideways to nowhere in particular. "Even your own body is messed up!"

"But I live," Folken roared. "And you live as well, you fool!"

"Little fucking thanks to you!"

"Van, stop that! I beg of you!" Hitomi realized in horror she should be telling this to Folken, as well. They both had the same temper when agitated. At least one of them should act rationally and she knew who was the better bet. But she didn't feel qualified to berate the man ten years her senior.

"Why do you defend him? You always seem to be forgetting," Van's voice was shaking, "that he nearly got us killed… and not once!"

"That's not true!" Hitomi had to say something. "He always wanted to save you!"

Van scoffed, not looking at her, but at Folken. "Say it! Just say the truth for once!"

"I do admit that at one point, it was out of my hands. Once you had an elite team attacking a country like that, hunting you down like that, you could have been killed. There were times when there was no avoiding it from my position, logically. I guess that would mean I was ready to sacrifice you."

"Pay close attention," Van shot at her rather coldly. "He was chosen specifically because he knew Fanelia well. And Dornkirk knew he was a loyal pawn to him."

"That would have been his reason, yes. Mine was: I had to be there to prevent it, if it was possible at all. Dornkirk put me on the team as a Fanelian, but my perspective was, better me than someone else. Someone who would have you killed without a second thought. I had to prove my loyalty in numerous ways to be put on that mission... ways that I can never erase," he hung his head. "But even that would have been a justifiable sacrifice to rebuild this imperfect world. I was ready to put Naria and Eriya in danger, so that no one has to suffer the cruelty, the persecution they did, again. And yes, even you."

"Of course you were," Van said with a half-mad smile, as if he hadn't heard the rest of what Folken said. Hitomi hated that smile so much. The Van she had known would never snarl quite like that. Who was this bitter creature? She almost wished he was being cold again if this was what he was suppressing.

"All that started to change as I met you after ten long years. And that change was completed when I lost the twins. But before that, I had been prepared. Prepared to sacrifice anyone for that dream of a peaceful world, where gentle souls like yours wouldn't have to suffer. Yes, I am guilty of that."

"So it's your dream that all those people had to die for, you admit it."

"I was ready to sacrifice anyone, at first. It was you who made me waver."

"That's why you hunted me down and sent that madman to kill me?"

"No!" Folken bellowed. "There's a difference between not being able to secure your safety and actively trying to kill you. I would never… Dilandau acted alone more times than not. It was impossible to control him."

"And why would I believe that, huh?"

Folken looked at him, his expression stony. "Because if I wanted you dead, Van, you would have been dead. Trust me on that."

Hitomi felt her stomach twist and churn. This conversation had taken on a very unpleasant note. The king let out a dry laugh, but Folken continued. "And since you wanted the truth, let's share a cup of that. If you really wanted me dead, it would be the same thing."

That cut the younger man's laugh short. "What did you just say?" He drew the sword out of the scabbard. "The only reason you are still alive is because you are useful. Don't forget that nor your crimes against Fanelia!"

"Van! What in the hell!" She watched as he pointed the sword at Folken's neck.

"What if I told you I am done with being useful?" the older man made a step forward. "That I am ready to carve my own destiny out again?"

"I won't let you–"

"Do it then, do it now. With this steel our father wielded." Folken spread his arms sideways. "Don't be craven..."

"Stop it!" Hitomi screamed shrilly, but it felt like she was not even there. Like one of her past horrific visions that she could not snap out of.

"…or did you really hope I'd just die on my own if you wait long enough?"

She watched, momentarily paralyzed as an ugly tremor went through Van. His grip on the weapon tightened and she watched him swing it in fury. She predicted it even without her powers and threw herself between them, covering her eyes for the lack of a better move. Next thing she knew, she was pressed to Folken by his good arm, the blade lodged deep between the metal fingers of the other. She glimpsed at Van, his expression terrifying enough to make her eyes squeeze shut.

"That's the best the king of Fanelia can do?" She felt the rumble in Folken's chest as he growled that, but she heard the struggle, the anxiety of defending against that charge in his voice. Then he rotated the blade with his artificial arm, twisting his brother's grip off the handle and pushing it back into his chest, making him stumble back a bit.

Van's eyes dropped on her, hidden in Folken's robes in terror.

"Why… why the hell would you do that?" he said in a breathless voice.

"The hell are you on about, it's your brother!" she shrieked, the shock of it probably the only thing holding back her tears. "Do you really want his blood on your hands?!"

"I have enough blood on them to drown you with it! More innocent blood than his!" he howled and she felt it to the core of her bones. Folken's grip on her loosened, probably as a reaction to that, though she couldn't see his face. She somehow found the strength to look at Van again, though she saw only a dark blur. She clenched her trembling fists at her sides.

"You'll be the first to choke on it! Get out," she rasped. "Go get your shit together, if you even can," she sobbed, still in shock, closing her eyes again, unable to look at him anymore. She only heard the metallic sound of the sword sliding back through Folken's palm… and then the flap rustling as he left, the fading crunch of his boots in the snow.

---

He had followed the trail of footsteps out of the camp, before they could be covered by the fall anew. The snow was not letting up, as if mocking them further after all that had happened today. Once his watch had ended, he had gone to the tent, finding it disturbingly empty. He left all he had been carrying inside, threw some fresh cinders into the metal stand, closed the flap behind him, and proceeded to inspect the footsteps outside.

They were quite busy around the tent, but then he noticed the singular trail through the snow. The footsteps led quite a bit further up the hill, just where the view opened up, though now it only showed darkness with the white spots dancing into it, like reverse-moths into a reverse-flame. And it was where he found his superior, sitting in the snow and meditating, it seemed. Or totally frozen. The pose and the sword laid across his lap suggested the former, while everything else pretty much suggested the latter.

"Are you with me, my lord?"

The tips of Van's hair and lashes were encased in white. A white puff emerged from his lips.

"I'm cold."

"Well, pardon me for asking, but why get all the way out here, then?"

Van sighed. "…Balgus used to do this in winter. He would sit like this until he was half-buried by snow, and it did take a while to bury a man of his size. In summer, he would do the same under a waterfall. To focus his mind, you know."

That sounded vaguely familiar… "You mean to meditate?"

Yes, some of the elders in the monastery could fast and meditate for days. Cyro had always sucked at it.

"Hn."

"You got half-buried as well, so I think it's time to go."

"The snow was knee-deep before I even got here."

"Be that as it may, I think you meditated enough."

Something serious had happened and Cyrien felt like he should know what. He recognized the sort of state Van was in, and if someone as weak as him made it, the king would certainly pull through. Whatever it was that ailed him, because he was quite sure something definitely was.

Not the advance plans though, nor the elite squad. Not even the incident with the captives and the responsibility for their fate…

"What's the matter…?" he asked, fully aware the king most likely would not share. Not yet. And he really said nothing, not for a long while. Long enough that Cyro doubted what he said next was even a reply to his question.

"The cold. No matter what I do, I still feel it. Aren't you supposed to stop feeling after some time? Become numb and warm and sleepy..." he finally opened his eyes, keeping them downcast.

This was definitely not about freezing to death. No, it was probably not the war, either, even though he had witnessed it grinding on him before. This struck closer to the heart. It was his brother… or the girl. Cyrien had his own suspicions about her already, but didn't want to assume.

"Yeah, it would mean you are a dead man, though."

"Am I not?" Van looked at him strangely. "Folken said the dragons would attack me, feeling my fear. Instead, they flee. What do you think that means?"

I know. But it's only when you're alone, I bet. The king had saved his ass on so many occasions, he had lost count. Unlike him or someone like Schezar, Cyro was no pilot prodigy. The only thing that worked for him was knowing the construction in detail and making the most of it.

Van fought great when he had people to protect, but he fought best when he didn't have to protect anyone else but himself. If he even thought to do that.

Cyro started suspecting worse a while ago.

He remembered something similar, being out in the streets and suffering from lum withdrawal, wanting nothing more than that or to die. Of course, he understood fully the wish to be unfeeling. But he pulled through and he had to do everything in his power so that Van did, as well. It was the king, after all, who had made him take the last steps out of that slump. In the raging war, no less. Not an easy feat.

So, he did know, he feared the worst, but pretended it was simple. It was best to keep it simple. The feelings just complicated everything. Get warm, get fed, get some sleep… those were the small things he could help with. And he would stay close at all times from now on, he decided.

"You are a cold man in need of your warm tent."

You're not dead, not on my watch. I may be in purgatory already, but you're very much alive.

"I can't go there," Van said miserably. "And what I need is a drink."

Cyro decided to sit down next to him, spreading his cloak on the snow first. Just for a while. He would prefer not getting his butt too wet and cold.

"Up in the mountains back home… there are dogs the size of men that carry booze on their neck. Looking for fools… I mean, men who go meditate in the mountains. Did you hear?"

"Did you?"

"What?"

"Bring a drink around your neck."

"Well, let's just say that I'm a loyal, reliable dog, alright?" he handed him the flask hidden in his coat with a bit of guilt. It wasn't like he was in support of this habit, On the other hand, it felt like a matter of survival here sometimes. Especially in this frigid, northern wasteland where spring could not come soon enough before the winter snatched it away again.

"I've been to the tent, by the way. It's empty."

Van just stayed silent, looking down.

"I didn't know if you ate so I got you some bread and cheese…" he waited a bit, but did not really expect a reaction. "Your next question should be: 'the hard one or the rotten one'? And the answer is: so hard, I will chip off a piece of it one day and use it as a knife."

"Who relieved you? Guarding the boys?"

"A Cesarian lieutenant. I met him before, he seems alright."

"Can he keep them alive?"

"No worse than I can," he shrugged. "But no worries, he respects you enough to accept your decision, like most men."

"What about the rest?"

Cyro thought a bit about it. "They may need a few days to… get together and organize something."

They looked at each other, agreeing upon the point. They need to get out of here, as soon as possible.

"I will try to get it moved up tomorrow."

---

She could not move from the spot, it was as if she was rooted there. But Folken's arms were comforting as he rubbed her back. He was so tall, taller than Allen, even. She felt like a small child next to him. It was probably the adrenaline that made her more emotional than she wanted and for the first time since she had come to Gaea, she let herself cry full-on, with sobs and everything. She was mortified by it when she finally managed to calm down and Folken helped her sit down on the cot.

Everything was broken into small pieces. Before she had had a chance to fix her own mess, Van had done this horrible thing. He had drawn a sword at his brother with an intent to kill. But what was her grief compared to Folken's?

"I'm sorry…" she muttered, rapidly wiping at her eyes and cheeks with the backs of her hands.

"No, I am… I deeply regret you had to witness this. Though I admit my wrong; you are really not afraid of my brother. Ordering him out of his own tent like that!" It almost looked like Folken was trying to lighten the mood.

She shook her head, unamused. "He lost his mind, I swear. After what he did to the boys… after all that trouble in Fanelia… He just snapped…"

"I wouldn't be so sure."

Hitomi couldn't believe how cool Folken was acting, considering what had just happened. "He just tried to kill you."

Over a verbal provocation. Unarmed. With her standing right there, even though that wasn't the most important thing.

"I know what it looked like, but it wasn't a hard blow. He would have cut me in half if he was serious, or this thing at least," he flexed his metallic arm.

"How can you know that?" You do not charge aggressively enough, she randomly remembered Balgus saying. Even Allen had stated something similar in judgment of Van's skill.

Folken smirked. "I'm a bit of a swordsman as well, though people tend to forget that since I don't wear one on me now. I know exactly what the blade is capable of. It is not by mistake a centuries-old edge is still the king's weapon. They change the grip every once in a while but it is said dragons helped to forge that thing."

"But you…"

"I only panicked because I didn't expect you to act out."

Hitomi let out a shaky sigh. Was she being useless again? Or did she just almost cause another tragedy through her careless actions? No… there was something her intuition picked on. She had done what she had felt she had to do at that moment.

"Still… haven't you seen him? His eyes? You say I am not afraid and yes, I never thought I would say that, but he scares me. At times, he really scares me now. I do not recognize him."

"I know. The war… did this to him. The war I so recklessly started. And this was my doing, too. I was the one who pushed him to that point," Folken said with only a tinge of regret... "He had to do it, for his honor. But I found my answer in that blow; it was not meant to be fatal. I'm sorry, though, I forgot myself and your presence for a miet there and put you into danger."

He sighed and she nodded, showing she understood.

"It's just… I couldn't deal with this half-way situation anymore. My own mind is frayed and patience runs thin in our family."

Oh, she noticed. But whereas Van had always been like this, Folken was usually calm and collected. Something was off about him.

"Did something happen?" she dared to ask.

She watched him as he directed his attention to his mechanical limb, testing its movements and functionality. She saw a needle poke out of one of his fingers and wondered about its possible use.

"I guess they call it a broken heart."

Hitomi was speechless for a moment. Folken has… had a lover?

"I mean… I don't want to pry, but…"

He chuckled bitterly. "You still offer love advice?"

She wondered how he knew. And then she remembered mentioning it to him once, long ago, talking about her powers. Saying how they started as giving innocent enough advice to her lovestruck classmates. His memory was certainly brilliant, much like his brain. "No… I offer friendship."

"Well, there's nothing much to talk about, just that it was another of my poor choices. Except, she seemed to have realized her mistake."

"Oh." The conversation changed into a tone she wouldn't have expected. "I'm really sorry. What did she say?"

"She said she needed time to think. That it was getting too risky for her…"

"I see." Gaean folk seemed to use the same old breakup phrases. Or was it not just a phrase? "But maybe it's not definite…?" Don't just jump to conclusions, like your idiot brother.

"It is. I know her well-enough for that. She thought this through," he sighed. "And maybe it's a good thing. Where would that relationship be going? What can I offer a decent woman like her? I had considered all that in the beginning. And yet I let that happen. Apparently, I am not as cold and rational as I like to think; today being another example."

"Folken..." She wanted to say that it was not all he had to live for. But what comfort could she provide to a man in his situation? It was obvious he loved his brother very much. Except Van could only show rage and hate. Even if he had it in his heart to forgive him, he would not do it because of his duty to Fanelia. Folken was right, this was a stalemate. Plus, the older Fanel was forever branded as a traitor… she honestly could not think of any consolation right now, especially after she had seen what Van was capable of.

No matter what Folken said, it was not normal to pull a sword on one's brother. No matter what honor and samurai codes dictated... and where was the end of it? With this war going on… there would always be someone after revenge…

Perhaps he should start a new life? In another country? No… the arm, along with his unusual looks, would give him away immediately. Maybe he could come to Earth? No… that was not an option, either. It was hard to conjure a happy future for him, but perhaps… perhaps…

Then it dawned upon her. Maybe today was a sign of his reconciliation with death? Could it be so bad?

"I know it may seem hopeless right now. But promise me you'll keep on trying. Even if it's hard. I'm sure life has some more surprises for you in store."

"Ah. Do I seem so miserable?" He seemed to have caught on her intent immediately. It wouldn't ever do to underestimate his perception, it seemed.

Suddenly, she didn't know what to reply. How was someone who was just almost killed by his brother supposed to look?

"At the very least, I need to help dismantle the monstrosity that I helped to build. After I get my hands on the Power Spot and redirect the energy to my prototype, I can undo some of the damage…" he trailed off.

"Do you think that's the way to resolve the conflict?"

"I have a lot of hope. But I need to find out if it's possible. That's why I'm coming to Freid with Schezar. His king wants it disconnected from Zaibach, but I have my own plans. I need more knowledge about the Power Spot. This cannot be underestimated."

"I see," Hitomi said.

"What about you, Seeress?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, even if she suspected what he was asking about. Folken was at his worst, but still knew where to go, what to do. He knew his purpose. Hitomi could only wish for that. She was just flickering around, leaning into various directions like a flame in the wind. Yet her feet were rooted to one spot.

"You came here with Van. And something tells me he would not want to go to Freid."

True. She hadn't really thought of it. But with the recent developments with both Allen and Van, it was the obvious choice.

"No… but I do. I will go to Freid with you both."

Folken smiled. "I really look forward to sharing your company, Seeress. With you here, I believe we are finally getting closer to this war's end that has been delayed for too long."

"I will try to help but… my powers are gone and that's for the better. Without them, I'm just no use at all."

Folken looked down on her, a bit of friendly affection showing in his eyes, if she was not just being too hopeful. "Do you know what Dornkirk used to call you?"

She shook her head.

"'The unknown element.' By the scale of things, you shouldn't have been considered a threat to the Empire, but every time you were present, something unforeseeable happened. He saw you as a major obstruction to his plans. And if he believed he was changing this world, then you have that ability as well, don't you think?"

Yet again, she felt her heart tremble at the implication."No way. I'm not so important."

"You don't need to really be of great importance, you just need to be of difference," he said. "And you were, even this time. You always have been."

'''

SPREAD I

End of reading

'''

---

This was… pretty bad once again, huh? But this is not the end of days. In fact, if you like how this book ended in some regards, I suggest you stop reading here. Nah, I guess this ending would not be satisfying for anyone. There's nothing else to do but ask for your patience once again, I'll start fixing some of this mess, soon. Anyway, I should have started by apologizing for the massive delay of this massive chapter, too. It took ten months to feel relatively satisfied with this monstrosity. In my defense, my recent life changes and the current state of world affairs drained my creative energy quite seriously. For a while, I even wondered if it was ever to return, erratic and numb as I got. Heartfelt thanks to the handful of people who have reached out to me and reminded me why I love this fandom (most recently, it was CovertEyes, Zwoelf, and Silphine – all great Esca content creators btw.!) And ofc, to Lera, who helps me immensely to whip this into a presentable shape and in general, not to lose it in frustration and spite over my lack of writing skills. Lots of love to you all!

And since this is the end of the first book, I decided to do a shout-out to all who reviewed, commented or messaged me during its course (hopefully I haven't forgotten anyone but I will also update this as necessary). So, in order of appearance and/or website:

40four – MissMiz – SurlaLune – Maybe89 – Divinely Sweet Ambrosiac – sakura son zukino – Blue Funk (Lera) – Gura Kruor – Pikafwance – hikari – Vsabo – Kittykat – Nightfademusic – eireannlily – Devussie – Quietduna – CatariaNigra – serenityrain2233 – Rikunabi – lalalalalllaaalla – caro – Nu Kua – witchfingers – Luin-fanel – 66ButterflyOfDarkness99 – miaouneh – CovertEyes – ShimmeringWaters – Paulina1997 – Zwoelf – Jane Keybored – Konstantya – Silphine – and a number of anonymous commenters I cannot really figure out from the number of guest reviews or anon asks on tumblr.

As of today, there are little over 100 reviews on FFN, something I only ever dared to hope of achieving when I started. Several of you I've exchanged messages with and even became online friends, I'm really thankful for that. Some of you maybe stayed only a part of the way, but that's fine, too, I appreciate that. Quite a few of you have stories up I would definitely love to read (THANK YOU for keeping the fandom alive)! That reminds me, my immediate plans as of now are as follows:

- Reading some more of Esca fic before the end of the year,

- Catching up with the chapters on AO3 before starting Book II,

- Finally take a serious look on outline of Book II (also would be good to do before posting the first chapter of that).

This chapter feels like a huge boulder out of the way so wish me luck in achieving all this!

Chapter notes:

If anyone struggles with the chronological scene order (sorry that I could not keep it entirely linear), it's 1 – 2 overlapping (OC POV/H POV), 4 (H POV), 6 (H POV), 5 (C POV), 3 (A POV). Usually, we only have two POVs and one switch per chapter, but I wanted to create a bit of that tension that is often seen in season finales of TV shows. Also, that tent argument scene was so huge and ridiculous it had to be separated off into smaller parts. You probably noted that the finale is just one huge argument. But now that everybody got their share of food for thought, maybe we can move forward from that!

When Folken says "did you really hope I'd just die on my own if you wait long enough?" it's a reference to his black wings, which Van knows about. But hey, he's been doing alright all these years, hasn't he?

The first scene sort of ties in with the first part of the previous chapter, with the look from the other, Zaibach side. If it's unclear, these boys from the remote Zaibach town idolize Dragonslayers and adopted their names. It's a sort of game of pretend, until it isn't. The age of the two groups is in fact quite similar, the difference is, Dragonslayers were professionally trained soldiers (according to artbooks, they attended a military academy, probably from a young age), while these boys are just peasants/potential conscripts now that the war has progressed.

Just a reminder that things like miet, costa, and peizo are canonical Gaean units of time, length, and weight (in that order). I try to make the Gaean characters use them.

We get a little glimpse into Cesario, which reminds me, I really have to do that "all we know" post about them sometimes soon (I did Basram and Egzardia in the past already). The results can be seen at visarcana tumblr, where I share quite a lot fic-related content and silliness – written, translated, or drawn.

Okay, I think that's it for this chapter… and for this book! It is much longer and took much longer than I had planned. I'm also sorry if I could not bring you any satisfying conclusions yet, although I believe there were some enjoyable moments, even in a disastrous chapter such as this one. Please let me know what you thought. And then it's onwards to book 2!

~Rin