{{Okay, it has come to my attention that I didn't even bother to mention how old Dirandau is, and that maybe some people are wondering.
Well..uh….the reason is….I haven't really decided on that yet. ::Sweatdrop::
I'm thinking he's probably somewhere between ages 8-11. He has to be old enough that he'd been in Zaibach for awhile, but still not really close to the age he was in the series. That way, I don't have to go through a lot of the discovery that children go through, but there is still room to talk about him growing up.
[Eh…yeah…that makes sense^_^]
I also realized that I forgot something else.
For the time being, Dirandau has blonde hair and blue eyes. Since Serena had it, I'm pretty sure that Dirandau would have had it too, unless one of the sorcerers was a fashion-oriented kind of guy, and was trying to make a statement.
::Smiles:: Of course, I'm saying this because I have an idea for why his hair is silver.
Okay, now that that's over-with….one with the fic!}}
PART 2
It was early morning.
Folken woke himself up.
This was not a natural ability, but one he had learned from other members of Zaibach. All people of Zaibach had to learn to do this. They had to be ready to go anywhere at a moment's notice. It was a necessity of anyone who lived in a dictatorship.
He had been dreaming again. As usual, the dream was about the poor brother he had been forced to leave behind.
::"Would that I had never taken that cursed dragon-rite…."::
Indeed, perhaps it would have been better had they never even been born royalty. Average citizens don't have to deal with things like that.
He shook his head, and stood up. He had work to do…work that would bring peace to Gaea. That was all that really kept him going.
Peace…..now, that'd be nice. And, it would ensure that his brother would survive.
Van couldn't survive otherwise….At least, not the way he was. He might live on, but he'd change. He'd become something other than that gentle soul. And, who knows? He might even someday find that he loves to fight, to prolong this destiny of war.
Folken blocked those thoughts from his mind. They wouldn't help him now. He couldn't be thinking of Van right now. It would distract him too much from his work.
He looked at a clock.
It was only about three AM.
::"He'll probably be tired now."::
Folken was guessing that Dirandau was the type who preferred to sleep in until two o'clock in the afternoon.
He had also come to the conclusion that Dirandau was a very lazy little boy, in need of some kind of motivation.
So, like any good teacher, he thought he'd go wake his student up in the middle of the night, and maybe knock some sense into his head while the boy was too tired to refuse it.
However, his plan was flawed. Dirandau had been up for hours, practicing with his sword. Folken nearly lost his other arm when he entered the room.
Folken: "What are you up to?"
Dirandau didn't even bother to stop practicing while he was talking.
Dirandau: "There's a competition tomorrow. And, I intend to win it."
He hadn't noticed the time flying by. He thought it was still night-time, not early morning.
He slashed once more at the air.
Folken: "I'm sure that winning at these competitions would require lots of practice in your off-hours, and you probably don't-"
Dirandau: "I practice all the time."
::"So…he does have some motivation after all…we just need to put it in the right place."::
Folken: "Well, you'll have to stop for now."
And Dirandau did stop. But, not because Folken had ordered him to. It was because he was surprised at Folken's audacity.
Dirandau: "You can't tell me what to do right now! It's not even working hours."
He was about to start practicing some more, but Folken took the sword away from him.
Folken: "Those who ignore orders for years have to make up for their insubordinance. You don't get any time off from now on, unless I say so."
This was completely exasperating. Dirandau didn't know how to deal with it. No one had ever treated him so disrespectfully before.
Folken: "Ah, silence….I see you're learning something already."
That statement brought Dirandau out of his paralysis.
Dirandau: "Give me my sword now, or I'll-"
Folken: "I'll give you fair warning. From now on, if you yell and complain like you've been doing, or try to give me orders, I'll make certain you regret it."
Well, now…what was there to say? Dirandau was realizing that this man was not like others. He could defend himself. He obviously was capable of more than what Dirandau could tell. It frightened Dirandau to not know what someone was capable of. It destroyed his assurance that he knew everything.
Folken: "Do you understand?"
Dirandau nodded.
Folken: "Good. Then, starting today, we're going to take up all those studies you've ignored. Don't worry, I'll help you. They won't be so difficult."
Dirandau just stared off to the side. This was completely incomprehensible.
Folken: "If you don't give me too much trouble, you might be allowed to watch some of that competition today, but I'm not promising anything. It all depends on you."
Dirandau blinked.
Dirandau: "What do you mean, I might be able to watch the competition? You're telling me I can't compete in it?"
Folken: "You've obviously worked hard on your swordsmanship. You need to concentrate on something else for awhile. And, you have no right to complain about this. You're the one who decided to break the rules. You chose to give up those studies for something else, so now you've got to pay for that choice."
Dirandau glowered at Folken. It was one thing to tell him that he had to go do certain things. They weren't all that important anyway, so he could deal with it. It was only a slight annoyance., and he'd probably find some way to get out of doing them.
But….to take away something he cared about so much……that was intolerable.
Dirandau: "I'm going, and there's nothing you can say that'll stop me!"
He reached for the sword, but Folken backed up too quickly for Dirandau to reach it in time.
Dirandau: "Rrrr….give that to me, damn it!!!!!!"
Folken: "I told you that you'd regret that…"
Folken unsheathed the sword, and smashed it on the floor.
Folken: "You see? You'll have to do the things I tell you to, some way or another. No one is allowed to compete in those matches without a sword. You couldn't be in them now, even if I did allow you to go."
But Dirandau wasn't listening. He had sunk to his knees, and was staring at the shattered pieces.
How could Folken talk like that, when Dirandau felt so terrible?
Something he cared about that much….how could it be so easily destroyed….?
Slowly, those tears came. He didn't remember ever crying before. No one had ever done anything like this to him….just to hurt him.
Folken just stared on, not letting any emotion show in his face.
It was his intention to make Dirandau feel bad about this. If Dirandau didn't feel there was anything to fear in doing things the way he had always done them, he wouldn't try to become any better. He was justified.
That type of thinking was necessary for anyone who had been a sorcerer.
He kneeled down on the floor next to Dirandau, and began picking up the metal pieces. They were sharp, and Dirandau might hurt himself if he touched them.
After a little while, Dirandau just curled up on the floor like a cat, his arm wrapped tightly around his stomach. He looked completely pitiful.
Folken just sat back, watching. He was patient. They could sit here for days…he didn't mind.
This was the only way to turn someone into a soldier. Break them down, then build them back up. Even though it hurt them, it would be worth it in the long-run. It would make them stronger.
Dirandau would cry now, but after he was done training, he would never have cause to cry again. He would be able to handle anything. Folken just hoped there was enough time to finish with him.
Dirandau didn't move from that spot for hours, at least seven. He couldn't. He didn't think his legs would ever work again.
And he felt sick…and he couldn't seem to dry his eyes…
He thought maybe he was going to die, that maybe Folken had somehow managed to make him ill.
::"That bastard will pay for this!"::
After some time, he lifted his head, and looked over at Folken.
Dirandau: "Why are you still here?"
Folken: "Oh, are you finished now?"
Again, he hadn't bothered to look up while replying.
Dirandau allowed his head to thunk back down on the ground.
::"Why the hell is my life ending like this?"::
Dirandau: "No."
Even if he had to die like this, he still wouldn't cooperate with Folken.
Folken shifted a paper around.
Folken: "Well, if you don't make up your mind to be finished now, you're certain to be finished on a battlefield…and right quick, I might add."
Dirandau turned and stared at Folken. It had been inconceivable…..he couldn't die on a battlefield…..but….he wasn't invincible anymore, was he? No, no…he was most definitely not undefeatable. He shivered. He thought of that report someone might be reading one day.
'We regret to inform you that Lieutenant Albatou was killed in the midst of battle, his sword shattered in the midst of battle.'
And, would whoever heard that message care?
No…
He could see them, casting the note carelessly aside.
'Well, he was easily defeated. We'll just have to hope the next soldier is better, won't we?'
Folken didn't respond to the fear that was in Dirandau's eyes. he just repeated to himself that this was necessary.
Folken: "And, does it not occur to you that there will be other competitions, and that a new sword will be requisitioned for you later? Such short sight isn't going to get you very far when planning battles."
Dirandau became flustered at Folken's words. He knew what he was doing. He was good at anything. This idiot couldn't just come in here and insult him like this….he could defend himself!
Dirandau: "You're one to talk about being a soldier. You're an office-boy…you've never even been in a fight!"
Folken shut his eyes.
Folken: "You presume much about my past."
Dirandau: "Oh? I'm wrong?"
Folken: "Yes. About a great many things."
Dirandau: "Rrrrrrr…."
He hated dealing with people who liked to give mysterious answers, those people who liked to make themselves feel intelligent by coming up with cute things to say.
Folken: "However, if you study with me for a bit, I will teach you…and then you won't be wrong. I'll even let you go see some of that competition. How does that sound?"
Dirandau laid his head back down on the floor. He could hold out forever, he was sure of it. Folken wouldn't win over him.
Five minutes later, they began studying.
Boredom and curiosity were two things that always had the ability to destroy Dirandau.
They were in the middle of economics.
Folken: "And, if there's a drought in this country-"
He pointed to a spot on a map.
Folken: "Why would that be bad?"
Dirandau: "Because…that's a farming country that Zaibach depends on."
Dirandau rolled his eyes. That wasn't the right answer. It may have been the one he was supposed to learn, but he knew it wasn't the right one. It was the question that was screwed-up.
:: "What would be so bad about it? We could just go get those farm-goods from some other place. Why the hell should I care??" ::
Dirandau still hadn't realized why his country was in the situation that it was. It could make nothing of its own, except soldiers. The land was barren…there was nothing in it, but a bunch of poor people, with no where else to turn.
However, he had never seen those lands. He hadn't seen the people…those poor people, who carried burdens greater than that of the god Atlas.
He could do nothing but assume that his country was the best in all things, that the people, whoever they might be, were well satisfied with their lot in life, and that everything was good.
Folken: "Correct. You're learning fast."
He smiled down at Dirandau.
It was wonderful to be teaching someone again, to be away from all those activities tied to war.
Teaching his little brother had been one of the great joys of his childhood. It took away from that horrible realization that one day, he would be king…he would be in charge of fighting wars and the like.
Van would be the same age as this boy. Folken wondered what he was thinking now.
Dirandau: "Folken!!!"
Folken's mind had trailed off. He hadn't heard the last five times Dirandau had yelled at him.
Folken: "I'm sorry…"
He snapped the book shut.
Folken knew he shouldn't test Dirandau's patience too much, now that he had gotten him to oblige.
Folken: "Perhaps we've been working too long today. Why don't we see how far underway that competition is getting?"
Dirandau nodded enthusiastically. He had almost gotten over the disappointment of the morning.
Before they could go, Folken had to take care of something. They walked down many corridors, until they reached a crossways. It was a nice large space, almost like a lobby.
There was a line of soldiers on one side. They were receiving a verbal lashing from their commanding officer.
Folken: "Wait here for me, and don't move from that spot."
Dirandau nodded, not really paying attention to him anymore. He was more interested in the line of soldiers.
They weren't recruits. They had good high-ranking uniforms on.
:: "They must be the dregs of their class…" ::
It was often practiced to have the worst soldiers whipped into shape by some of the best commanders in the army. It was hoped that those who were well-versed in intimidating would be better at motivating these recruits.
Commander: "We should've recruited farmers. At least they know some useful skills!"
He gripped one of the soldiers by the collar.
Commander: "Tell me, why does Zaibach tolerate such worthless creatures as you?"
Soldier: "I….I….d…don't know…..sss..sir…"
Commander: "Well, that makes two of us."
He threw the soldier to the ground.
Dirandau grinned. This was wonderful…watching a real leader at work.
:: "I want to be like him some day." ::
The other soldiers stood trembling in their places. They hated this commander with more vehemence than any prisoner towards his warden.
Commander: "You will remain here, silent and at attention, until I see fit to come and get you."
He walked off, glad to be away from them. He hated dealing with little underlings. He was to be getting a promotion soon, and he was anxious. Every day, he wondered when he would get his papers. He had become even more abusive, because of his impatience.
As soon as he was out of sight, the soldiers got out of their lines. They all sat around, and started talking. The subject of conversation? All the different ways they'd like to see their commander die.
They all started joshing around. Some played cards or marbles [A very popular activity among soldiers of Zaibach], or told jokes and stories. Any chance to live as normal people do was taken with relish. {{{Not mustard.}}}
Dirandau was wide-eyed at this. They had just received a big lecture on respect…on why they had to shape up. And….and…they didn't even care.
He trembled with anger. They weren't following the rules. Everyone was supposed to follow the rules. Everything had to be done right, everything had to be perfect. Because, if it wasn't perfect, it was intolerable. There was something about it…it just drove Dirandau mad. If everything wasn't perfectly in order, then it couldn't possibly make any sense, it couldn't be depended on. For some reason, it frightened him.
He walked over to them, despite the fact that Folken had told him not to move.
Dirandau: "What the fuck do you people think you're doing?"
The others blinked, and looked at each other. What was wrong with this little boy?
Dirandau walked up to the soldier who had been thrown to the ground, who had been the loudest of all.
Dirandau: "Don't you know how the chain of command goes?"
They laughed.
Soldier: "Oh….are we being tested now?"
Dirandau: "You don't deserve to be tested. You deserve to be shot."
It was almost a humorous picture. These soldiers were much taller than him. They were much bigger…they could easily have killed him. And yet, Dirandau persisted in telling them what to do.
It was all that the soldier could do to keep himself from laughing, as his companions did.
Soldier: "Aww….now you're making me feel bad."
Dirandau wanted to punch him in the face, but he couldn't reach that high. Instead, he settled for smacking the soldier hard in the chest.
This only received a laugh from the soldier. He couldn't feel anything through all that padding.
Another soldier approached them.
Second soldier: "Well, what do we have here? "
He looked at Dirandau's hair. It was blond, with little patches of gray. Sometimes, children got premature patches of gray in their hair, when they undergo stressful experiences.
Soldier: "Gold and silver….with cerulean eyes…..Oh, how adorable!"
He gave Dirandau a shove, which sent the poor boy sprawling.
Dirandau managed to sit up, before the soldier hit him again.
Another soldier spoke up. He was upset, because this was interrupting his card game.
"Ah, let him go…he probably doesn't know what he's doing anyway…"
The first soldier paid the other no heed.
Soldier: "Cripes, he's weak. What'd you do, kid? Steal that ranked uniform you're wearing?"
Dirandau rubbed his bruised face.
Dirandau: "I was going to ask you the same thing."
Soldier: "You've got a lot of nerve! Nobody says anything like that to me.."
Dirandau: "Your commander did."
Soldier: "That idiot commander will be out of here in two weeks. He'll be a general….and we'll all be better off without him."
Dirandau stood up.
Dirandau: "You shouldn't disrespect him like that! Why don't you do as he told you? He's your commanding officer…you're supposed to do everything he tells you to!!"
Certainly, Folken would've been laughing if he could have heard this. It was comical, that Dirandau was so vehement about people doing things which he never ever did himself.
Now most of the soldiers were glaring at this boy. It was one thing to tell them what to do, when he was so small and weak…but, to defend that idiot! That was something they couldn't stand.
Soldier: "I think it's time we taught him a lesson. What do you think?"
They had already started closing in on Dirandau.
Some others who had come to the crossways noticed the trouble. They went to go and get some help.
The commander was found about five minutes later. He was very angry to have been disturbed. He had just sat down to a light meal, because he hadn't eaten anything all day, and now he had to leave it. It would probably be freezing cold by the time he got back.
He pulled those soldiers off of Dirandau, who was curled up, hugging his knees, and shivering.
There was terror in his eyes.
Commander: "Get up."
Dirandau couldn't comply. He really couldn't move this time. They had broken both his legs.
Commander: "I said get up!"
His words were harsh as sandpaper. He didn't want to waste time.
Commander: "Damn it….you idiot. Do as I say, now!"
Dirandau didn't move. It was like he was in some form of death, or sleep…
Folken finished what he was doing, and came back outside. He was quite surprised to see this.
Folken: "If you please, leave him alone."
Everyone else was terrified at the site of him, and backed as far away from him as they could.
However, the commander was arrogant. He didn't care about sorcerers. He knew they wouldn't do anything to him, being such a high-ranking man. It was only the young, inexperienced ones that had to worry.
Commander: "Don't you dare order me around. I won't have it. You hold no power whatsoever…and I can do what I like. You haven't got anything to do with this situation, so go bother someone else."
Folken: "On the contrary, he is in my charge. Now get away from him."
The commander did so.
Folken bent down, and picked Dirandau up.
The commander raised an eyebrow.
Commander: "In your charge? And who is he? Or, more appropriately…what is he?"
Folken: "Just a lieutenant. Hardly someone who concerns you."
The commander glared at him.
Commander: "Yeah, right. He's one of those 'experiments', isn't he? Rrrrrrr……I hate that! You idiots…your fooling around makes a mockery of this army, you know that??"
The soldiers smirked. It was nice to have that bastard yelling at someone else for awhile.
Commander: "I'll never take one of them into my troops. Never…."
It was a good thing that Folken didn't believe in the superstition of the 'evil eye'. Because, that was the look he received from the sorcerers when he brought Dirandau to see them.
He had taken Dirandau back to his quarters first. He had thought that Dirandau would be fine in a few days…he was just a little bit shocked from the experience. But, he wasn't fine in a few days. He stayed in that same position, unblinking, unmoving. He wouldn't eat, or sleep. Folken would've thought he was dead, were it not for his faint pulse.
The sorcerers were very angry with Folken. They wondered if he was possibly trying to sabotage their work.
The mark of traitor was the hardest to wash oneself of in Zaibach. It would have been considered a sin, if anyone there had believed in the concept that something a person did could lead to them being damned for all eternity. They were far more intelligent than that. They knew that there was nothing they had to worry about in the here-after. They might become ghosts, but that was the extent of their after-life torment.
It was decided that Dirandau had to be made more recognizable, and that more people had to learn about him. They had been slightly secretive about him before. If no one knew that he was any different than a normal soldier, Dirandau would've been more easily accepted by them.
However, this incident proved that theory to merely be wishful thinking. He couldn't be around normal people, not like that. They had to let everyone know who he was, and make him easily recognizable.
If people knew who he was, and what punishment awaited them if they were to hurt him, then they certainly wouldn't do anything to him.
The sorcerers changed the tint of his eyes from blue to red. All his uniforms would now be dyed to match that. No one else had red in their uniforms, which made this idea very effective. That uniform became a thing of fear among all the others.
They gave him a drug, which they gave all their experiments. It was aptly named "Amnesia." It completely veiled an experience which happened just before a person received it. Depending on how much they gave him, he would forget a week, a month, a year…there were so many years missing from his life. But, that was the way it had to be. Those years weren't his. They belonged to someone else, from a far off land. And, she would be forever stuck in them. The sorcerers couldn't get rid of her, though they tried. They could only keep her hidden, and silent.
Dirandau returned, much the same as before he had left. They fixed his legs, and he no longer had any bruises. Nothing to remind him of what had happened…except his hair.
Something unintentional was that now his hair had almost turned completely gray. No matter what they tried, they couldn't get rid of that colour. It was the only mark of the trauma they had put him through which they couldn't erase.
Much the same, and yet much changed…
{{I don't know what time system is used on Gaea, so I'm just using ours. It makes things easier for me.
Oh…um….and I think I probably should have noted this before. I've been reading through some of my fics, and realized that I haven't been such a good little editor.
Sometimes in the stuff I put up there are little things like this.
{{{{{Aya….should I really do that?}}}}}
Those are just personal little notes for me, while I'm writing, so that I don't have to go nuts trying to make everything perfect all at once.
[Yah, you probably figured it out before, or didn't care….but I thought I'd mention it anyway.]
I thought I had solved the problem of my forgetting to take them out by putting so many of these things {{{}}} around the words to make them stand out more, but I guess I was wrong.
::Sighs::
I don't think this story is turning out as well as I had hoped. But, maybe it'll turn around when I get to start writing about the DSlayers. ::Huggles them:: They're all wonderful…
Okay, now for reviews.
Feye Morgan: Thanks….I'm glad you like it.
Heh….technically, I don't think it matters if you backtalk Folken.
Etowato: Yeah, poor Dilly….but, he's not the only one who has to deal with those control-freaks. And at least he gets denial and everything, so he technically doesn't have to experience it..
RyoOhki020: Er….rrr…..okay, I can't fight it. I do admit what you say is true. Dilly isn't the nicest person in the world. ::Understatement alert::
But, I like him anyway. ^_^
[And, I'm hoping that's a good sign with characterization…because, if I can get people to dislike my a character, even when they're my favourite, then I must not be molly-coddling him too much.]
Hitomi-no-Hikari, and Terra: ::Grins:: Thank you for your praise. ::Bows:: I do try.
Okay, now I'm off to finish the next chapter of "Everyone will help you"
Eh….I've been having some issues….so, Dilly's not having a good day in that chapter, either….
O_o
::Random complaint for today::
FFN eats formatting....
::Huggles everyone::
Happy trails!}}
Well..uh….the reason is….I haven't really decided on that yet. ::Sweatdrop::
I'm thinking he's probably somewhere between ages 8-11. He has to be old enough that he'd been in Zaibach for awhile, but still not really close to the age he was in the series. That way, I don't have to go through a lot of the discovery that children go through, but there is still room to talk about him growing up.
[Eh…yeah…that makes sense^_^]
I also realized that I forgot something else.
For the time being, Dirandau has blonde hair and blue eyes. Since Serena had it, I'm pretty sure that Dirandau would have had it too, unless one of the sorcerers was a fashion-oriented kind of guy, and was trying to make a statement.
::Smiles:: Of course, I'm saying this because I have an idea for why his hair is silver.
Okay, now that that's over-with….one with the fic!}}
PART 2
It was early morning.
Folken woke himself up.
This was not a natural ability, but one he had learned from other members of Zaibach. All people of Zaibach had to learn to do this. They had to be ready to go anywhere at a moment's notice. It was a necessity of anyone who lived in a dictatorship.
He had been dreaming again. As usual, the dream was about the poor brother he had been forced to leave behind.
::"Would that I had never taken that cursed dragon-rite…."::
Indeed, perhaps it would have been better had they never even been born royalty. Average citizens don't have to deal with things like that.
He shook his head, and stood up. He had work to do…work that would bring peace to Gaea. That was all that really kept him going.
Peace…..now, that'd be nice. And, it would ensure that his brother would survive.
Van couldn't survive otherwise….At least, not the way he was. He might live on, but he'd change. He'd become something other than that gentle soul. And, who knows? He might even someday find that he loves to fight, to prolong this destiny of war.
Folken blocked those thoughts from his mind. They wouldn't help him now. He couldn't be thinking of Van right now. It would distract him too much from his work.
He looked at a clock.
It was only about three AM.
::"He'll probably be tired now."::
Folken was guessing that Dirandau was the type who preferred to sleep in until two o'clock in the afternoon.
He had also come to the conclusion that Dirandau was a very lazy little boy, in need of some kind of motivation.
So, like any good teacher, he thought he'd go wake his student up in the middle of the night, and maybe knock some sense into his head while the boy was too tired to refuse it.
However, his plan was flawed. Dirandau had been up for hours, practicing with his sword. Folken nearly lost his other arm when he entered the room.
Folken: "What are you up to?"
Dirandau didn't even bother to stop practicing while he was talking.
Dirandau: "There's a competition tomorrow. And, I intend to win it."
He hadn't noticed the time flying by. He thought it was still night-time, not early morning.
He slashed once more at the air.
Folken: "I'm sure that winning at these competitions would require lots of practice in your off-hours, and you probably don't-"
Dirandau: "I practice all the time."
::"So…he does have some motivation after all…we just need to put it in the right place."::
Folken: "Well, you'll have to stop for now."
And Dirandau did stop. But, not because Folken had ordered him to. It was because he was surprised at Folken's audacity.
Dirandau: "You can't tell me what to do right now! It's not even working hours."
He was about to start practicing some more, but Folken took the sword away from him.
Folken: "Those who ignore orders for years have to make up for their insubordinance. You don't get any time off from now on, unless I say so."
This was completely exasperating. Dirandau didn't know how to deal with it. No one had ever treated him so disrespectfully before.
Folken: "Ah, silence….I see you're learning something already."
That statement brought Dirandau out of his paralysis.
Dirandau: "Give me my sword now, or I'll-"
Folken: "I'll give you fair warning. From now on, if you yell and complain like you've been doing, or try to give me orders, I'll make certain you regret it."
Well, now…what was there to say? Dirandau was realizing that this man was not like others. He could defend himself. He obviously was capable of more than what Dirandau could tell. It frightened Dirandau to not know what someone was capable of. It destroyed his assurance that he knew everything.
Folken: "Do you understand?"
Dirandau nodded.
Folken: "Good. Then, starting today, we're going to take up all those studies you've ignored. Don't worry, I'll help you. They won't be so difficult."
Dirandau just stared off to the side. This was completely incomprehensible.
Folken: "If you don't give me too much trouble, you might be allowed to watch some of that competition today, but I'm not promising anything. It all depends on you."
Dirandau blinked.
Dirandau: "What do you mean, I might be able to watch the competition? You're telling me I can't compete in it?"
Folken: "You've obviously worked hard on your swordsmanship. You need to concentrate on something else for awhile. And, you have no right to complain about this. You're the one who decided to break the rules. You chose to give up those studies for something else, so now you've got to pay for that choice."
Dirandau glowered at Folken. It was one thing to tell him that he had to go do certain things. They weren't all that important anyway, so he could deal with it. It was only a slight annoyance., and he'd probably find some way to get out of doing them.
But….to take away something he cared about so much……that was intolerable.
Dirandau: "I'm going, and there's nothing you can say that'll stop me!"
He reached for the sword, but Folken backed up too quickly for Dirandau to reach it in time.
Dirandau: "Rrrr….give that to me, damn it!!!!!!"
Folken: "I told you that you'd regret that…"
Folken unsheathed the sword, and smashed it on the floor.
Folken: "You see? You'll have to do the things I tell you to, some way or another. No one is allowed to compete in those matches without a sword. You couldn't be in them now, even if I did allow you to go."
But Dirandau wasn't listening. He had sunk to his knees, and was staring at the shattered pieces.
How could Folken talk like that, when Dirandau felt so terrible?
Something he cared about that much….how could it be so easily destroyed….?
Slowly, those tears came. He didn't remember ever crying before. No one had ever done anything like this to him….just to hurt him.
Folken just stared on, not letting any emotion show in his face.
It was his intention to make Dirandau feel bad about this. If Dirandau didn't feel there was anything to fear in doing things the way he had always done them, he wouldn't try to become any better. He was justified.
That type of thinking was necessary for anyone who had been a sorcerer.
He kneeled down on the floor next to Dirandau, and began picking up the metal pieces. They were sharp, and Dirandau might hurt himself if he touched them.
After a little while, Dirandau just curled up on the floor like a cat, his arm wrapped tightly around his stomach. He looked completely pitiful.
Folken just sat back, watching. He was patient. They could sit here for days…he didn't mind.
This was the only way to turn someone into a soldier. Break them down, then build them back up. Even though it hurt them, it would be worth it in the long-run. It would make them stronger.
Dirandau would cry now, but after he was done training, he would never have cause to cry again. He would be able to handle anything. Folken just hoped there was enough time to finish with him.
Dirandau didn't move from that spot for hours, at least seven. He couldn't. He didn't think his legs would ever work again.
And he felt sick…and he couldn't seem to dry his eyes…
He thought maybe he was going to die, that maybe Folken had somehow managed to make him ill.
::"That bastard will pay for this!"::
After some time, he lifted his head, and looked over at Folken.
Dirandau: "Why are you still here?"
Folken: "Oh, are you finished now?"
Again, he hadn't bothered to look up while replying.
Dirandau allowed his head to thunk back down on the ground.
::"Why the hell is my life ending like this?"::
Dirandau: "No."
Even if he had to die like this, he still wouldn't cooperate with Folken.
Folken shifted a paper around.
Folken: "Well, if you don't make up your mind to be finished now, you're certain to be finished on a battlefield…and right quick, I might add."
Dirandau turned and stared at Folken. It had been inconceivable…..he couldn't die on a battlefield…..but….he wasn't invincible anymore, was he? No, no…he was most definitely not undefeatable. He shivered. He thought of that report someone might be reading one day.
'We regret to inform you that Lieutenant Albatou was killed in the midst of battle, his sword shattered in the midst of battle.'
And, would whoever heard that message care?
No…
He could see them, casting the note carelessly aside.
'Well, he was easily defeated. We'll just have to hope the next soldier is better, won't we?'
Folken didn't respond to the fear that was in Dirandau's eyes. he just repeated to himself that this was necessary.
Folken: "And, does it not occur to you that there will be other competitions, and that a new sword will be requisitioned for you later? Such short sight isn't going to get you very far when planning battles."
Dirandau became flustered at Folken's words. He knew what he was doing. He was good at anything. This idiot couldn't just come in here and insult him like this….he could defend himself!
Dirandau: "You're one to talk about being a soldier. You're an office-boy…you've never even been in a fight!"
Folken shut his eyes.
Folken: "You presume much about my past."
Dirandau: "Oh? I'm wrong?"
Folken: "Yes. About a great many things."
Dirandau: "Rrrrrrr…."
He hated dealing with people who liked to give mysterious answers, those people who liked to make themselves feel intelligent by coming up with cute things to say.
Folken: "However, if you study with me for a bit, I will teach you…and then you won't be wrong. I'll even let you go see some of that competition. How does that sound?"
Dirandau laid his head back down on the floor. He could hold out forever, he was sure of it. Folken wouldn't win over him.
Five minutes later, they began studying.
Boredom and curiosity were two things that always had the ability to destroy Dirandau.
They were in the middle of economics.
Folken: "And, if there's a drought in this country-"
He pointed to a spot on a map.
Folken: "Why would that be bad?"
Dirandau: "Because…that's a farming country that Zaibach depends on."
Dirandau rolled his eyes. That wasn't the right answer. It may have been the one he was supposed to learn, but he knew it wasn't the right one. It was the question that was screwed-up.
:: "What would be so bad about it? We could just go get those farm-goods from some other place. Why the hell should I care??" ::
Dirandau still hadn't realized why his country was in the situation that it was. It could make nothing of its own, except soldiers. The land was barren…there was nothing in it, but a bunch of poor people, with no where else to turn.
However, he had never seen those lands. He hadn't seen the people…those poor people, who carried burdens greater than that of the god Atlas.
He could do nothing but assume that his country was the best in all things, that the people, whoever they might be, were well satisfied with their lot in life, and that everything was good.
Folken: "Correct. You're learning fast."
He smiled down at Dirandau.
It was wonderful to be teaching someone again, to be away from all those activities tied to war.
Teaching his little brother had been one of the great joys of his childhood. It took away from that horrible realization that one day, he would be king…he would be in charge of fighting wars and the like.
Van would be the same age as this boy. Folken wondered what he was thinking now.
Dirandau: "Folken!!!"
Folken's mind had trailed off. He hadn't heard the last five times Dirandau had yelled at him.
Folken: "I'm sorry…"
He snapped the book shut.
Folken knew he shouldn't test Dirandau's patience too much, now that he had gotten him to oblige.
Folken: "Perhaps we've been working too long today. Why don't we see how far underway that competition is getting?"
Dirandau nodded enthusiastically. He had almost gotten over the disappointment of the morning.
Before they could go, Folken had to take care of something. They walked down many corridors, until they reached a crossways. It was a nice large space, almost like a lobby.
There was a line of soldiers on one side. They were receiving a verbal lashing from their commanding officer.
Folken: "Wait here for me, and don't move from that spot."
Dirandau nodded, not really paying attention to him anymore. He was more interested in the line of soldiers.
They weren't recruits. They had good high-ranking uniforms on.
:: "They must be the dregs of their class…" ::
It was often practiced to have the worst soldiers whipped into shape by some of the best commanders in the army. It was hoped that those who were well-versed in intimidating would be better at motivating these recruits.
Commander: "We should've recruited farmers. At least they know some useful skills!"
He gripped one of the soldiers by the collar.
Commander: "Tell me, why does Zaibach tolerate such worthless creatures as you?"
Soldier: "I….I….d…don't know…..sss..sir…"
Commander: "Well, that makes two of us."
He threw the soldier to the ground.
Dirandau grinned. This was wonderful…watching a real leader at work.
:: "I want to be like him some day." ::
The other soldiers stood trembling in their places. They hated this commander with more vehemence than any prisoner towards his warden.
Commander: "You will remain here, silent and at attention, until I see fit to come and get you."
He walked off, glad to be away from them. He hated dealing with little underlings. He was to be getting a promotion soon, and he was anxious. Every day, he wondered when he would get his papers. He had become even more abusive, because of his impatience.
As soon as he was out of sight, the soldiers got out of their lines. They all sat around, and started talking. The subject of conversation? All the different ways they'd like to see their commander die.
They all started joshing around. Some played cards or marbles [A very popular activity among soldiers of Zaibach], or told jokes and stories. Any chance to live as normal people do was taken with relish. {{{Not mustard.}}}
Dirandau was wide-eyed at this. They had just received a big lecture on respect…on why they had to shape up. And….and…they didn't even care.
He trembled with anger. They weren't following the rules. Everyone was supposed to follow the rules. Everything had to be done right, everything had to be perfect. Because, if it wasn't perfect, it was intolerable. There was something about it…it just drove Dirandau mad. If everything wasn't perfectly in order, then it couldn't possibly make any sense, it couldn't be depended on. For some reason, it frightened him.
He walked over to them, despite the fact that Folken had told him not to move.
Dirandau: "What the fuck do you people think you're doing?"
The others blinked, and looked at each other. What was wrong with this little boy?
Dirandau walked up to the soldier who had been thrown to the ground, who had been the loudest of all.
Dirandau: "Don't you know how the chain of command goes?"
They laughed.
Soldier: "Oh….are we being tested now?"
Dirandau: "You don't deserve to be tested. You deserve to be shot."
It was almost a humorous picture. These soldiers were much taller than him. They were much bigger…they could easily have killed him. And yet, Dirandau persisted in telling them what to do.
It was all that the soldier could do to keep himself from laughing, as his companions did.
Soldier: "Aww….now you're making me feel bad."
Dirandau wanted to punch him in the face, but he couldn't reach that high. Instead, he settled for smacking the soldier hard in the chest.
This only received a laugh from the soldier. He couldn't feel anything through all that padding.
Another soldier approached them.
Second soldier: "Well, what do we have here? "
He looked at Dirandau's hair. It was blond, with little patches of gray. Sometimes, children got premature patches of gray in their hair, when they undergo stressful experiences.
Soldier: "Gold and silver….with cerulean eyes…..Oh, how adorable!"
He gave Dirandau a shove, which sent the poor boy sprawling.
Dirandau managed to sit up, before the soldier hit him again.
Another soldier spoke up. He was upset, because this was interrupting his card game.
"Ah, let him go…he probably doesn't know what he's doing anyway…"
The first soldier paid the other no heed.
Soldier: "Cripes, he's weak. What'd you do, kid? Steal that ranked uniform you're wearing?"
Dirandau rubbed his bruised face.
Dirandau: "I was going to ask you the same thing."
Soldier: "You've got a lot of nerve! Nobody says anything like that to me.."
Dirandau: "Your commander did."
Soldier: "That idiot commander will be out of here in two weeks. He'll be a general….and we'll all be better off without him."
Dirandau stood up.
Dirandau: "You shouldn't disrespect him like that! Why don't you do as he told you? He's your commanding officer…you're supposed to do everything he tells you to!!"
Certainly, Folken would've been laughing if he could have heard this. It was comical, that Dirandau was so vehement about people doing things which he never ever did himself.
Now most of the soldiers were glaring at this boy. It was one thing to tell them what to do, when he was so small and weak…but, to defend that idiot! That was something they couldn't stand.
Soldier: "I think it's time we taught him a lesson. What do you think?"
They had already started closing in on Dirandau.
Some others who had come to the crossways noticed the trouble. They went to go and get some help.
The commander was found about five minutes later. He was very angry to have been disturbed. He had just sat down to a light meal, because he hadn't eaten anything all day, and now he had to leave it. It would probably be freezing cold by the time he got back.
He pulled those soldiers off of Dirandau, who was curled up, hugging his knees, and shivering.
There was terror in his eyes.
Commander: "Get up."
Dirandau couldn't comply. He really couldn't move this time. They had broken both his legs.
Commander: "I said get up!"
His words were harsh as sandpaper. He didn't want to waste time.
Commander: "Damn it….you idiot. Do as I say, now!"
Dirandau didn't move. It was like he was in some form of death, or sleep…
Folken finished what he was doing, and came back outside. He was quite surprised to see this.
Folken: "If you please, leave him alone."
Everyone else was terrified at the site of him, and backed as far away from him as they could.
However, the commander was arrogant. He didn't care about sorcerers. He knew they wouldn't do anything to him, being such a high-ranking man. It was only the young, inexperienced ones that had to worry.
Commander: "Don't you dare order me around. I won't have it. You hold no power whatsoever…and I can do what I like. You haven't got anything to do with this situation, so go bother someone else."
Folken: "On the contrary, he is in my charge. Now get away from him."
The commander did so.
Folken bent down, and picked Dirandau up.
The commander raised an eyebrow.
Commander: "In your charge? And who is he? Or, more appropriately…what is he?"
Folken: "Just a lieutenant. Hardly someone who concerns you."
The commander glared at him.
Commander: "Yeah, right. He's one of those 'experiments', isn't he? Rrrrrrr……I hate that! You idiots…your fooling around makes a mockery of this army, you know that??"
The soldiers smirked. It was nice to have that bastard yelling at someone else for awhile.
Commander: "I'll never take one of them into my troops. Never…."
It was a good thing that Folken didn't believe in the superstition of the 'evil eye'. Because, that was the look he received from the sorcerers when he brought Dirandau to see them.
He had taken Dirandau back to his quarters first. He had thought that Dirandau would be fine in a few days…he was just a little bit shocked from the experience. But, he wasn't fine in a few days. He stayed in that same position, unblinking, unmoving. He wouldn't eat, or sleep. Folken would've thought he was dead, were it not for his faint pulse.
The sorcerers were very angry with Folken. They wondered if he was possibly trying to sabotage their work.
The mark of traitor was the hardest to wash oneself of in Zaibach. It would have been considered a sin, if anyone there had believed in the concept that something a person did could lead to them being damned for all eternity. They were far more intelligent than that. They knew that there was nothing they had to worry about in the here-after. They might become ghosts, but that was the extent of their after-life torment.
It was decided that Dirandau had to be made more recognizable, and that more people had to learn about him. They had been slightly secretive about him before. If no one knew that he was any different than a normal soldier, Dirandau would've been more easily accepted by them.
However, this incident proved that theory to merely be wishful thinking. He couldn't be around normal people, not like that. They had to let everyone know who he was, and make him easily recognizable.
If people knew who he was, and what punishment awaited them if they were to hurt him, then they certainly wouldn't do anything to him.
The sorcerers changed the tint of his eyes from blue to red. All his uniforms would now be dyed to match that. No one else had red in their uniforms, which made this idea very effective. That uniform became a thing of fear among all the others.
They gave him a drug, which they gave all their experiments. It was aptly named "Amnesia." It completely veiled an experience which happened just before a person received it. Depending on how much they gave him, he would forget a week, a month, a year…there were so many years missing from his life. But, that was the way it had to be. Those years weren't his. They belonged to someone else, from a far off land. And, she would be forever stuck in them. The sorcerers couldn't get rid of her, though they tried. They could only keep her hidden, and silent.
Dirandau returned, much the same as before he had left. They fixed his legs, and he no longer had any bruises. Nothing to remind him of what had happened…except his hair.
Something unintentional was that now his hair had almost turned completely gray. No matter what they tried, they couldn't get rid of that colour. It was the only mark of the trauma they had put him through which they couldn't erase.
Much the same, and yet much changed…
{{I don't know what time system is used on Gaea, so I'm just using ours. It makes things easier for me.
Oh…um….and I think I probably should have noted this before. I've been reading through some of my fics, and realized that I haven't been such a good little editor.
Sometimes in the stuff I put up there are little things like this.
{{{{{Aya….should I really do that?}}}}}
Those are just personal little notes for me, while I'm writing, so that I don't have to go nuts trying to make everything perfect all at once.
[Yah, you probably figured it out before, or didn't care….but I thought I'd mention it anyway.]
I thought I had solved the problem of my forgetting to take them out by putting so many of these things {{{}}} around the words to make them stand out more, but I guess I was wrong.
::Sighs::
I don't think this story is turning out as well as I had hoped. But, maybe it'll turn around when I get to start writing about the DSlayers. ::Huggles them:: They're all wonderful…
Okay, now for reviews.
Feye Morgan: Thanks….I'm glad you like it.
Heh….technically, I don't think it matters if you backtalk Folken.
Etowato: Yeah, poor Dilly….but, he's not the only one who has to deal with those control-freaks. And at least he gets denial and everything, so he technically doesn't have to experience it..
RyoOhki020: Er….rrr…..okay, I can't fight it. I do admit what you say is true. Dilly isn't the nicest person in the world. ::Understatement alert::
But, I like him anyway. ^_^
[And, I'm hoping that's a good sign with characterization…because, if I can get people to dislike my a character, even when they're my favourite, then I must not be molly-coddling him too much.]
Hitomi-no-Hikari, and Terra: ::Grins:: Thank you for your praise. ::Bows:: I do try.
Okay, now I'm off to finish the next chapter of "Everyone will help you"
Eh….I've been having some issues….so, Dilly's not having a good day in that chapter, either….
O_o
::Random complaint for today::
FFN eats formatting....
::Huggles everyone::
Happy trails!}}