Thanks to Caerne for editing this chapter.
Disclaimer: Vision of Escaflowne and its characters and likeliness is copyrighted to its respective company(ies). But the characters I created and this story is copyrighted to me.
Rating: PG-13
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FATES' JUDGEMENT
By Cosmos (ml_eclipse@hotmail.com)
Chapter 7: Ties of Red
The desperate, heavy breathing of an individual struggling against her fate echoed off the walls of the surrounding buildings, while the horrid sounds of her foes' footsteps could be heard a mere arm's length behind her. The damp air was filled with great fear tonight, and there was much to be feared. It was surprising how sudden the surrounding environment could change with a mere flicker of one's emotions. Only moments before, the night seemed serene but now it has become a most fearful entity. The atmosphere was thick with dread and pain that it caught in her throat, preventing her from inhaling the precious air to which brought life.
Hitomi continued to flee from the coming death. She ignored the angry squeals of horridly large rats, in much distress of being stepped upon, scuttling across her path as they dashed for the safety of their dank and dark tunnels beneath the forgotten warehouses. Darkness upon darkness passed by her eyes as she ran frantically down the alley, unsure of her direction, but only with the knowledge that she must continue to maintain her distance from her enemies. If she were to slow down death would immediately befall upon her.
Her screams had long been forgotten and her mouth now opened only to fill her burning lungs with the foul but much needed air. Her fortune of being an excellent track runner had certainly assisted her, but even so, her legs began to ache as the muscles contorted painfully in exhaustion. Realizing the deteriorating state of her body with much apprehension, she looked wildly about for any means of escape: a ladder, an opened door, or an unguarded window. Unfortunately, to her faint heart, there was no where she could flee; and, for worse, she found herself soon at the very end of her frantic flight as the cold, unyielding face of a filthy brick wall quickly appeared before her through the gloom of a most tragic night.
She slowed down most reluctantly and turned to face her enemies with trembling eyes fraught with fear and hopelessness. Before her stood seven men wielding large swords with slender blades that alone would instil fear into any heart. Like the daunting eyes of unnatural creatures in nightmares, the gazes of these men were cruel and unforgiving. She could feel their complete hatred seething through their hearts, polluting the already foul night air. She did not understand this hatred, or its dark origin. One of the men, shrouded in a dark brown cloak of heavy fabric—and whose face was hidden by a large hood—stepped forward with his sword swaying tauntingly in his right hand. Stopping a mere foot in front of her, he pulled away the hood and pushed back the heavy cloak to reveal a young man more than five years her senior with short, light aqua-green hair and piercing crimson eyes (reminiscent of another she recalled observing) focused intensely upon her pale face. His dark outfit was strikingly peculiar; it consisted of materials that looked foreign to her with a dark blue leather band from which hung the tan-coloured scabbard for his sword.
The stranger made no attempts at formalities: no questions, no hesitations, and no gestures of any kind that might infer his intentions. He simply rested the deadly blade of his sword upon her sweat-covered cheek while his dark gaze remained steadily on her frightened face. With the slightest narrowing of his fiery eyes, he spoke in a low, harsh tone that brought chills of fear spiralling up her stiff back.
"So this is the one," he remarked, his voice almost inhuman. "Such a frail creature," he continued in the same, lifeless tone, "that one would think incapable of harbouring such a demonic power." Allowing the blade of his sword to bite slowly through her skin and watching her flinch in pain, he spoke again, "The blood of many souls such as she have stained my hands, and many more will come. But the power must remain asleep, and if death is the only elixir of sleep, then let her drink it to the full."
Raising his sword high in the air as his grip on the hilt tightened, he brought it back down with great ferocity to end the miserable life of his poor victim. But his action was abruptly stopped as the loud clang of an interposing blade halted his sword mere inches above her head. Greatly surprised, he turned his crimson gaze upon the face of a younger man, whose features immediately struck him with a great familiarity. His opponent took his momentary weakness to grab the girl and fade back into the shadows from which he came. His actions were so swift that none of his foes were able to react immediate enough to stop his escape with their prey. Still holding his gaze to the very space this young man stood, he recalled with much anxiety the familiar maroon eyes, which glared at him only seconds before.
"My Lord," one of his soldiers ventured to speak to him, "my Lord, are you all right?" Failing to hear a response, the young soldier continued in a low, humbled tone, "I am sorry, my Lord. We have failed you. We have allowed them to escape."
Finally finding his voice once again, he whispered in an astonished tone, "He can't be. He can't still be alive."
***********
She could vaguely feel his presence incredibly close beside her as they hid silently in a large room on the second floor of an old abandoned warehouse only a few meters from their enemies. His slow, quiet, controlled breathing diffused through the tense atmosphere to reach her alert ears. His back was to her as he peered cautiously through a dusty, broken window at the group of darkly cloaked men searching wildly below. She felt utterly exhausted by the long chase, and the shear turmoil of fear wreaking havoc in her heart was enough to drain the remaining ounces of strength from her feeble body. Droplets of sweat and blood coursed down the side of her face without interruption; she was simply too weak to raise even her own hand to stop their flow.
Slowly opening her heavy eyelids, Hitomi mutedly took in the scene while her mind, despite her extreme state of exhaustion, actively processed all the information gathered only minutes before. Her inquisitive gaze fell upon the dark form of her saviour, whose face was turned away from her. She quickly noticed he was wearing a long, black leather coat and dark brown shoes which were slightly opened above the ankles. His pants were that of a soft pale tan fabric and, underneath the coat, he wore a white, open collared shirt that had become utterly soiled as to give a false brown appearance. Large patches of perspiration stained the back of the shirt. During her eyes' arbitrary wondering, they soon fell upon a beautifully crafted scabbard from which a golden hilt was clearly seen protruding from the top. An unnaturally thin leather band held the sword in place by its master's side. Upon catching sight of the fearsome weapon, which immediately reminded her of the horrific incident in the alley, Hitomi was snapped awake by fear and quickly jumped to her feet to again flee from these nightmarish events.
Her movements instantly alerted her companion, who swiftly caught her around the waist with a strong arm and pulled her down to him while his other hand wrapped around her mouth to stifle the cry that began to escape from her lips. With her back forced tight against his chest, the stranger bent close to her ears and whispered words of caution.
"If you have any desire to live," he breathed in a harsh tone, "you will take care not to make any sudden movements that may alert our enemies to our location."
She breathed heavily into his palm, as fearful tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks. He felt the warm liquid dripped silently across the back of his hand, which remained upon her lips to silence any sounds she might foolishly attempt to make. Despite his decision to abandon his emotions on Etheria, he could not help but feel a tinge of compassion for this frightened creature. She was bound, after all, to this cursed fate. Much like he.
He again spoke quietly into her ears.
"Do not fear me," whispered he in a gentler tone, "for I am here to help you. You may not understand but I ask that you trust me."
He fell silent; his grip on her remained strong and unyielding. He tried to get a sense of her reaction to his words through her body language, but he could not attain any significant response. However, he did notice that she relaxed slightly and her breathing was not as rapid as before. Sensing that she had calmed down a bit, he began to loosen his grip. Nonetheless, he still kept a hand across her mouth until he could determine with confidence that she would not cry out and endanger them both. Again, he spoke in the same quiet, cold tone.
"I will let go of you, Hitomi, if you will assure me that you will not try to run or scream."
Upon hearing her name escape from these strange lips, Hitomi immediately stiffened again in fear. He could instantly feel this change in her. Quickly, he assured her of his intentions.
"Do not worry," whispered he. "No harm will come to you; I give you my word. But I must have your compliance to not make any foolish attempts to escape or cry out, do you understand?"
She stiffly nodded in acquiescence.
"All right," he said as he slowly pulled his hand away from her mouth, "but the instant you attempt to cry out, I will not hesitate to take drastic actions."
"I won't," she stuttered once he freed her lips, "I won't scream."
"For both of our sakes, I hope you will not."
"Who," Hitomi whispered as she felt his gentle breath on the back of her neck, "who are you? And why did you help me?"
He did not respond but instead turned her slowly around to face him. Her bright emerald eyes instantly widened in surprise upon sight of his face, dully lit by the pale moonlight drifting at an angle through the broken window an inch above his head. She quickly, however, recovered her calm countenance when this new knowledge confirmed her old suspicions.
He watched her silent reaction with much interest. He did not fail to notice her calm expression washing over her face after only a mere second of shock, which conveyed to him that she might have suspected more than he believed.
"You do not seem all that surprise," he commented, "or the shocked look on your face would not have waned so quickly."
"No I am not," Hitomi replied in a calm voice, all traces of fear have now fled upon sight of him, "because I have suspected you to be involved in this somehow. After the answer you gave me earlier in the park, along with that strange look, have led me to believe that you knew more about the strange occurrence of last night than you have acknowledged."
His eyes widened slightly with surprise while a faint light of admiration flickered quickly by them. A small, satirical smile rose to the surface of his lips when he spoke.
"Very quick of you to have predicted as much," he admitted but his countenance, as well as his tone, rapidly changed when next he said, "but great knowledge can sometimes bring with it much danger and pain."
She remained silent.
"I advise," he continued in the same voice, "that you restrain that inquisitive mind of yours lest it should lead you into a world you would wish not to have entered."
She responded this time with much irritation, "It was not my inquisitive mind, as you so kindly put it, Van, that have led me into this situation."
"Are you certain of that?" he countered with a slight narrowing of his eyes.
He did not expect this opposition from her. A woman had never spoken to him in this way before, and he was not in the mood to have one do so right now.
With a scowl, he said in a clipped voice, "If you had not decided to wander on your own after your friend had sent you home, you would not be in this pathetic situation."
"You…?" Hitomi started, "so it was you who followed me from my house."
"Since my discovery, I have been following your every move," Van acknowledged. "It is my mission to protect you from The Hunter."
"The Hunters?" she questioned in a baffled tone, her attention immediately diverted from the mystery of his "discovery".
He turned his back to her once again as he snuck another peek through the dust and mildew covered glass. She barely made out his voice from the edge of the window as he explained,
"Correction, they are known singularly as The Hunter. The men you encountered in the alley, and who are searching for you still, are only half of this force. They will not rest," he turned to give her a most fearfully calm gaze, "until you are dead."
She gasped in shock and fear. "B-but why?" she said meekly. "Why do they seek my death? I didn't do anything to them."
Finding that their hidden position remained secure, Van slouched down beside her again resting his muscular arms exhaustively on his knees. He placed his steady gaze, from which much sorrow could be seen, on her while he spoke.
"It is not what you did, Hitomi," he explained, feelings of pity for the naïve girl surfacing in his heart, "but it is who you are or rather who you will become."
She looked at him with much confusion swimming in her innocent emerald eyes.
"Alas," he sighed, "I have said enough." She noticed he diverted his attention to the sleeveless red shirt left on the ground by his right side. He began to tie the thin shirt onto the scabbard of his sword. She then realized this shirt was the very same one she found left with her when she woke up in Amano's home. It must have been his shirt. But why did I end up with it? Was he the one who...?
"No, you must—," she began but he did not allow her to finish.
"It is best, mortal," said he in an unfriendly tone, "that you remain ignorant of these occurrences until the time comes."
"I will not remain in the dark when my very life is at stake," she argued.
"The more you know the greater will be the danger," he countered, greatly annoyed by her foolishness.
"And am I not in grave danger right now?" she asked angrily. "These men and memories of their horrid intentions will not disappear so easily, no matter how much I desire it."
He remained silent.
"Tell me," she said in earnest, "why these men are after me! What power was that stranger talking about? I must know."
He hesitated.
"Please," she pleaded, "at least give me a weapon to defend myself."
"A weapon, even one of thought, can be worked both ways," he whispered in a dark tone.
She was very much irritated to see that he would not answer her questions so readily as she had hoped. If he was so determined to hide this knowledge from her, and from many others, then it certainly gave emphasis to the importance of this piece of information. However the desire to know of this truth, she would plead no further; her pride simply forbade it.
"If you will not disclose to me the information that concerns me, then I will not ask any further." She gazed directly into his eyes challengingly as she spoke, "But do not think that I fear you, Van, because I do not. You may prevent me from knowing the truth now, but I will eventually learn of it, one way or another."
"Hah, hah," he gave a wry laughter, purposefully keeping his voice low such that only she could hear him. He leaned closer to her face, until their noses were a mere inch apart. She could feel his warm breath upon her trembling lips. His wonderfully strange scent of a field enveloped her senses and brought phenomenal tranquility to her apprehensive heart. But the heavy curtain of great sorrow shrouding his dark crimson eyes signified to her of many grievances that he had experienced during his sojourn through life. She could sense his lips part and the cold words, which escaped between them, drifted gradually to her ears.
"I will give you one advice now," he said in a frosty tone, "and one alone. If you do not want to be hurt any more than you are then you will not search for this truth."
Undeterred, she looked straight into his eyes and said, "But you know, as well as I, that this truth of which you try to hide from me, is interwoven with my fate."
He fell back in surprise. But before he was able to respond, a cry from the outside attracted his attention. He quickly glanced over the windowpane to view a group of fourteen men, all cloaked in the very same outfit that distinguished The Hunter, running through the warehouse door. Their thundering footsteps were soon heard rumbling up the weak staircase leading directly into the room in which they now hid. Van quickly noticed a large bonfire of phenomenal blue flame stirring into life just beneath the window. Damn! he thought, they have called upon the sorcerers. Frowning with concern and anger, he turned to grab Hitomi by the arm and pulled her to her feet along with him. Glancing quickly around for a means of escape, Van noticed a small opening in the ceiling, which led to the rooftop. Without a word, he ran toward the opening, which was large enough for them to barely squeeze through, dragging Hitomi behind him. His actions were quick and precise. He left her no time to even utter a word.
Bending down, he placed his hands together and commanded in a low tone, "Quickly, jump up to that opening there in the ceiling."
Without hesitation, she placed her foot into his hands and he boosted her up through the opening. Once she made it through safely, he leaped easily up, caught the edges of the opening and pulled himself through. He felt, with much surprise, her small hands grab his left arm to aid him up. Without any expression of gratitude or a glance at her, he went swiftly to the edge of the building and peered over the side cautiously. He found, to his distress, a rather steep drop to the dangerously distant concrete pavement below. Of course, if it was he alone then overcoming such height was of no consequence at all. However, with her present, he could not risk revealing his secret inheritance, despite the obvious threat quickly arriving up those stairways to the room below them. With a darkened expression, Van's quick eyes scanned his immediate surrounding for any apparatuses, any structures, or any openings that might provide a means of escape. Soon enough, his thorough scrutiny was rewarded with the sight of a rather thick rope affixed at one end to a flimsy wooden pole jutting out the side of the warehouse, with its other end attached to a strong iron bar bolted to the side of a neighboring building.
"Van! They're coming!" cried Hitomi, fearfully glancing toward the opening from which they just escaped through, and that now harboured the groping hands of their enemies as they attempt to squeeze through the rather narrow hole; their bulky armors made this quite a difficult feat.
Without further loss of time, Van turned around to grab Hitomi by the wrist and dragged her toward the edge of the building where the rope was hanging. Bending over the edge, Van grabbed the end of the rope nearest to them while pulling out his blade. He sliced easily through the line to free this end. Twisting a few lengths of the line around his left hand and tightening his grip, he turned to reach for Hitomi while yelling,
"Grab a hold and hang on!"
Instinctively following his instructions, Hitomi placed both her arms around his neck and held on for dear life as she felt his strong arm wrap itself tightly around her waist, pulling her body close to his. With a leap, he flung them both over the edge. Their intermingled body swung heavily across the yawning distance between the buildings while the angry cries of their foes were left to wash over the edge.
Hitomi's grip on him tightened as she, unintentionally, caught sight of the dangerous pavement far below them. Their body twisted midway through the air, such that her back was now facing the wall of the incoming building; she could not see the large, thick pane of glass vastly approaching them at a dangerous speed. He, however, saw it soon enough. She could feel the muscles in his body tightened as he desperately forced the rope to twist such that his back now faced the window to absorb the full force of the impact. She immediately realized his intention when she came into view of the object approaching them.
Into her ear, she could hear him yell through the humming noise of the wind, "Get ready!"
She pulled herself even closer to him, bracing for the inevitable impact. In her mind, a thought rushed through: Please, don't let him get hurt.
A tremendous rumble exploded throughout the dark city as their bodies slammed into the large, thick glass window, immediately shattering the translucent wall into multitudes of razor-sharp shards flying haphazardly down the dark alley and into the empty room. Upon impact, she instantly saw a splash of red spread across the face of the window; she heard a muffled cry escaped from closed lips, which stubbornly refused to admit to pain.
Once their body swung safely beyond the edge into the empty, dust-covered room, Van let go of the rope. They fell heavily onto the floor covered with shards of glass. Opening her eyes, she quickly looked about her and noticed that she was lying on top of Van. He had manipulated their fall such that his body would take the harsh impact of the ground leaving her unharmed. But to the horrors of her eyes, Hitomi quickly noticed the bloodstains freckled across the immediate surrounding and on his body. She quickly got off of him while calling out his name.
"Van?" she whispered in fear. "Van, are you all right?"
Upon hearing her voice, he quickly opened his eyes. Realizing that they were still in great danger, he wasted no time as he struggled to get to his feet. The incredible pain burning through his back and left side was almost unbearable. Every contortion of his muscles only deepened his wounds and caused greater amounts of blood to ooze out of the cuts.
"Van, you must not move," Hitomi said. "You're badly hurt."
"We must…escape," he struggled to say. He managed to get his feet under him only to collapse to his knees again in physical pain. Grinding his teeth together in anger and pure determination, Van finally gained his footing with some help from Hitomi.
"Quickly, Hitomi," he whispered to her through tight lips, which were desperately withholding cries of pain surging through his throat, "Take the ladder on the other side of the building, just through that window." He raised his shaking hand and pointed to the far opening across the large empty room.
"All right," she said. She began to move forward and pulled him along with her, but to her surprise, he resisted.
"No," he said in frustration, "what the hell are you doing?"
"I am helping you get there," she said in irritation. "What do you think?"
Shaking his head, he spoke in a stronger tone, "No, weren't you listening? I said for you to take the ladder and escape."
"But what about you?"
"I can hold them back to give you some time to get out."
"No," Hitomi turned to look into his eyes with a determined expression. "I am not leaving you here like this. They'll kill you."
For a split second, her kindness silenced him, and he could only look at her earnest expression in surprise. However, anger at her foolishness soon replaced what he momentarily felt.
"I will only slow you down," he said with a shake of his head, rage building up inside.
"Look there must be—."
Unexpectedly, he broke free of her grip on his arm and began to step away.
"Van," called Hitomi as she began to reach for him, "don't be foolish."
But her advancement was immediately halted when he suddenly pulled out his sword and pointed the deadly tip directly at her. He glared at her with such a cold and heartless expression that she felt fear awakening in her heart. Her trepidation of him only heightened further when she heard the emotionless tone he now used.
"Get out of here now," he growled, "or I will kill you myself."
Recoiling back in surprise by this sudden change in him, she whispered his name meekly, "Van…?"
"Go!" He roared as he whipped the blade toward the direction of the window.
"Huh!" she started, and quickly ran toward the opening without further hesitation.
He watched her in silence as she found her footing on the thin beams of the ladder. Soon she disappeared from the window and he heard the clanging of her footsteps down the vertical ladder hanging on the outside wall of the warehouse. He let out a sigh of relief knowing that there was no way for The Hunter to reach her now, because there were no entrances leading into that particular alley from this side of the city, with the exception of the window Hitomi escaped through. But that window was barred—by him.
He turned around to face the coming enemies alone with sword in hand. A swirl of wind raced toward him from the shattered window, blowing back the ebony coat from his body, revealing drops of crimson sweat coursing down his tattered torso, almost completely dying his white shirt in red. His ability to stand now came solely from his determination to protect her. With the injuries he sustained, Van could feel his strength trickle out of his body with each drop of blood. If he was to fulfill his mission then he must act now. There was not a chance for him to defeat the many foes heading his way via a mere swordfight. Their numbers were great, their strength greater, and their will to kill Infinity unstoppable.
Clenching his hand tightly around the hilt of his sword, Van closed his eyes and concentrated all of the remaining strength in his body towards the strange metal blade. A river of energy could be seen rushing from every corner of his body toward one focal point, the blade of his sword. Suddenly, a shadow fell over his eyes, which caused him to immediately open them. Before him stood the very same man that almost killed Hitomi back in the alley. His blazing crimson eyes shone brightly beneath the dark cover of his hooded cloak. Van narrowed his eyes with hatred but remained focused on his task in channelling his energy to his sword. His foe had already noticed his activities but did not take any immediate actions to stop him. The stranger simply stood before him with that intent, analytical stare. As if he was judging him.
What is he up to? Van thought.
Unexpectedly, this man flipped his hood back to reveal his face, which was quite handsomely sculptured with intelligent eyes. His short aquamarine hair moved slightly in the cold wind sweeping in through the shattered window behind him. With a calm countenance and the same mournful gaze, the stranger took a steady step forward. His sword remained sheathed.
Van immediately reacted by tightening his muscles in preparation for an attack. But the strange did not launch at him, did not unsheathe his sword, and he did not take another step forward.
Quietly, the man before him spoke in a low, almost gentle voice, "Don't you recognize me?"
Van's eyebrows immediately shot up. Recognize him?
With a slightly saddened expression, the man said, "You don't know who I am do you?" Then almost as if he was speaking to himself without any further awareness of Van's presence, he continued, "Could I be wrong? That he is not the same person? But…but all this time he couldn't have possibly…yet…" Returning his gaze on Van, continued, "Yet, he looks so much like him. What other explanation could there be but that he stands before me.
"You are…," the stranger said to him, "you must be…Escaflowne."
The strange name fell on unfamiliar ears, and the stranger could clearly see this. But before another word could be said, the thundering of footsteps soon brought the other hunters to flank behind their leader. From outside, a strange wall of metallic blue light began to flood into the room; it was the powers of the sorcerers.
However, they were all too late because his transfer of power was complete. Van held up the sword at an angle in front of him while a cold, deadly smile rose to his pale lips. "You will not get Infinity this time," he said in a low tone.
Immediately, he swiped his sword rapidly through the air, sending out slivers of energy that he built up in the blade moments before. The energy sliced through everything it contacted like a hot knife through butter. The structural integrity of the building soon began to collapse as support beams of the warehouse came crashing down upon them all. Through the falling debris and smokes of dust, two men stood staring at each other while all others were yelling and escaping from the crumbing building. During the brief gaze, the image of a long lost memory flickered to life in one of the men's mind. Van's eyes widened in surprise as a strange emotion momentarily encroached upon his being, the emotion of recognition. He, Van thought in both astonishment and bewilderment, looks familiar. But that is impossible.
Suddenly, their gaze was broken as one of the stranger's soldiers grabbed his arm and pulled his leader from the falling debris. The Hunter managed to escape from the building, leaving the young man in there alone. From the outside, the stranger watched in silence as the entire structure collapsed before his eyes, sealing the young warrior's fate within its destructive belly.
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Next: Chapter 8: "Misperception"
Cosmos 2004