She shook as she sat in the pilot's seat, her body involuntarily twitching with the aftermath of shock and panic. She stood absolutely still until she felt confident the white thing was really gone, and then she turned around to face the Alseides. She sent a radio signal.
.:"D-Dilandau?":. She stammered. She heard no reply, so she exited the Libreia and ran up to the shorting body of the Alseides. She saw Dilandau inside. She was very quiet as she climbed the rim of the Alseides, trying to get to the smashed up cockpit. She heard him shift his weight in the broken glass.
He had, his back to her, his body still as he surveyed the carnage before him. Smouldering chunks of buildings, twisted metal and broken bodies lay before him.
"D-Dilandau?" She called softly, quaking so hard that the metal and plastic of her armour was clicking on the Alseides. His head snapped up. "Dilandau... I'm b-behind you." She said. He turned around.
"You're alive," He blurted in a flat tone, and half turned to face her. She crawled over the twisted and torn metal and fell into the cockpit. She got on her hands and knees shakily.
"I-I did it." She said, and she gripped her arms as if she were cold. She shook in spasmic waves as the adrenaline's effect died off, and her pupils were contracted to pinpoints. She hung her head and began to cry, not caring that she was in front of him. His expression was stoic.
"What's wrong?" He asked her, although he was sure he already knew the answer.
"I-I-I'm a monster! I k-killed someone, Dilandau! Th-They're dead because of m-me!" She started. He was right. "I killed the m-mother. It w-was an accident, I swear! A-and then, the kid got away from me, and..." She started to sob as the image replayed again and again in her mind of the mecha falling on top of the child. "The kid was killed!" She blurted and she shook harder than ever before. "And all those o-other people I saw d-die..." She cried. "Dead, and it's all my f-fault! I'm a murderer!"
He sat at the other end of the cockpit, watching her cry, listening to her. She looked so alone. Thoughts flickered in his mind. Why did she care for these people? He watched her cry for another moment or so, and then he shuffled across the cockpit. He held himself back for a second, but then he gently put his arm around her shoulder.
"Shh," He hushed, imitating so many other people he'd seen when they did this. Blinking uncertainly, he ran his hand very lightly up and down her back. The shock had all been bled out of him from years of experience, but her tears seemed to bring just some of it back. She leaned her head against his shoulder piece. As he looked up from her and at the leveled city all around them, he felt a pang as well. Her crying grew softer.
"Come on, we have to go back now," He whispered to her, and her crying slowly died away. He nervously pulled away from her, and she sat there, looking miserable, but complying. "Come, now." He insisted in a soft tone that surprised him. Dilandau backed up from her and offered his hand to her. Gabrielle looked up at him, smokey grease and dust smeared on her face making her eyes stand out like jewels. She gently took his hand. She stood up slowly, brushing herself off, and he helped her out of the wrecked suit. They jumped and landed on the ground, Dilandau buckling on one knee. A dust cloud was kicked up as he fell onto his side, but he immediately got to his feet.
"You're hurt," She said worriedly. Her tone made him sheepish.
"It's nothing. Let's go." He said in a commanding voice, and she followed behind him, trying not to see the image of the child being crushed that was burned, it seemed, in the backs of her eyelids.
"Libreia, open." She said very quietly. The doors opened. She stepped into the cockpit again, sitting in the seat. Dilandau slipped in beside it, and made himself small enough that he could fit. She was mildly surprised; He was nearly six feet tall. She showed none of her surprise, and she commanded the door to shut. "Can you open a radio channel to the base?" She asked.
.:At once, commander.:. The computer replied.
.:"Status report,":. Crackled a voice.
"Mission failed. I dealt damage to the White Dragon, but he escaped. Alseides has been nearly destroyed. Dilandau is with me. Is the base still under attack? Over." She asked. There was a slight pause.
.:"No. Please return immediately.Over and out.":. The voice said. She took in a shaky breath.
"Let's go." She said quietly, and the Libreia fired up and took off, adjusting the directory for the Fortress. The mecha streaked up into the sky, looking hundreds of times better than the pilot who was operating it felt. She wordlessly operated the controls, making sure they weren't being followed.
"Oh. I forgot to mention," Dilandau said, breaking the silence. "We're going to eat when we get back first thing, and then..." He trailed off.
"And then what?" She asked in a flat tone that Dilandau usually used. It made the hairs on the back of his neck rise to hear her use it.
"I have to take you to see some people." He finished quickly.
"Okay," She said innocently and obediently.
She continued to stare blankly.
"Gabrielle, there's nothing we can do about it, okay? I understand that you feel guilty, and so do I sometimes. But we cannot change what people tell us to do. It is not in our place." He said in a tone that betrayed his concern and had lost its usual hard edge. She lifted the vision unit for a second to look at him. She couldn't help but thank him silently, just for being alive. Their gazes met, and she looked into his eyes until he looked away.
"Watch out, I think we're approaching the base." He said quietly. She replaced the visual unit and steered the Libreia into the docking bay.
They walked out together, and she followed behind him to wherever they were supposed to go. It turned out to be a room with a large table, and all the Dragonslayers were all at the side. Dilandau passed them and sat at the head of the table, and she assumed that this was a position of power. There was an empty chair next to Gatti, and so shyly sat down. Gabrielle hadn't eaten in the past day or so, and she was so hungry now that she thought about it. She looked at her wrist, and she wondered what the tight leather that encased her wrist would taste like. She looked about the table nervously, and looked at the room. After a few moments, Dilandau's meal was served.
It was on a large platter, and it was fairly well-sized portions. It was roast meat of some kind, mashed potatoes, green beans and carrots, and he had what looked like a bun next to it. She found she was salivating at the sight of it and she swallowed. Dilandau sat and waited politely for the other's meals. My God, I can't wait! I'm so hungry! She thought to herself. It smelled so good, and the scent was further intensified by the raging hunger ravaging her insides. Several servants walked up carrying plates, but what the plates bore on them was so hideously different from what Dilandau had on his! She watched them bring up six plates of food, if you could call it that. They were steaming piles of grey glop, it looked like. A plate was put down in front of her, along with a knife and spoon. She swallowed again. She stared at the mass. It had pale yellow and pinkish chunks in it. In some part of the slushy, quivering mass, it was greenish. She picked up a knife and poked it, gingerly. A bubble appeared where she had poked the mass, and it burst, letting forth a putrid smell that made even her empty stomach turn over. Steam came from the hole that the bubble had made.
"It's high in protein," One said to her with a grin, and then he returned to eating the stuff ravenously with the others. She sniffed it. She found it smelled uncannily like urine. She tried not to make a face as she pushed it away.
"Why aren't you eating, Gabrielle?" Dilandau asked her in a clipped, quiet tone as he cut a piece of meat.
"Oh, I'm... Not hungry." She choked. Her appetite had disappeared. He looked up at her.
"You haven't eaten in ages. Eat." He said, the look he cast her steely. Her gaze returned to the glop, and then back at him. She didn't say anything.
"I... I'd honestly rather not." She said, extremely shy at refusing him. The others stopped eating and looked up to see the sparks fly. He was about to say it was fine, when he saw everyone looking at him. I have a reputation to protect, but... he thought.
"Fine!" He barked. " Don't eat, go starve, see if I care. Go then, your quarters are on the second floor, third to your right. I will come after the meal to take you to see the Scientists. Stupid girl." He snapped. She blinked back tears of frustrated, hurt embarassment.
"Y-yes sir!" She stammered, and she stood and bowed before leaving the room. They could hear her starting to cry very softly as she ran down the hall. Dilandau felt like an absolute heel.
"You made her cry?" Gatti said, squinting at him, putting down his fork.
"Shut up, Gatti." Dilandau snapped. "She doesn't eat, that's her own choice." He growled. Awkward silence fell amongst them. The Dragonslayers were horrified as a whole. Gabrielle didn't entirely seem like one of them - She seemed like a guest in their ranks. Yelling at her was some kind of unwritten taboo.
Migel looked up from his plate.
"Go to her, sir." He said, and winced at his broken jaw.
"Yeah," Seconded Dalet. "She's not used to food like this. I think she deserves a good meal before seeing the scientists. Besides, she's never killed anyone before, sir." He reasoned.
Their commander grumbled and moaned as he got up. Why was he taking their stupid advice?
Gabrielle found her quarters easily enough and sat down on the bed. She began to cry again. Just my day! I kill people, I disappoint my superiors, and embarrass myself in front of my equals! I'm such an idiot! Gabrielle was trying hard to fit in. This place was so strange, and it felt like no matter what she did, she did it wrong. A few moments later, she heard a knock at the door.
"Come in," She said very very quietly, and pressed the door release. The door hissed as the pressure expelled and it retracted into the ceiling in one piece. It was Dilandau.
"Sir?" She asked. She blinked back her tears and looked at the ground.
"A-are you here to yell at me, sir?" She asked him.
"No, Gabrielle. I'm not here to yell at you." He said. "I'm here to say I have a reputation to uphold. I didn't want to yell at you particularly, but I had to. I'd... Much rather you not be angry with me." He said, a cough tagging along the end of his sentence.
"Why should you care if I'm mad at you? You're my commander. You could throw me off the walls if you wanted to." She said.
"Well, I wouldn't do that. I enjoy your company." He said stiffly.
"Thank you." She blushed, looking at the floor. She was still curled up on the bed in the corner of the wall. "I have to take you to see the Scientists now." He said. He stepped into the room, and he formally offered her his hand to help her stand up, disguising the alternate reason he offered his touch. She touched it lightly as she stood up.
"What are they going to do?" She asked him nervously. He thought for a minute.
"I don't know." He replied.
"Why do they want to see me, sir?" She asked him. His avoidant demeanor made her frightened. If he was scared of something... Most certainly then, she should be. "Why?"
"Dilandau," He muttered.
"What?"
"Call me Dilandau."
They walked down a long corridor which was blindingly white. She got goosebumps from the energies of the place. She'd always been highly sensitive to psychic energies and vibrations, and she felt really bad ones here. Really bad. She looked over at Dilandau, walking beside her. He looked extremely uneasy. They came to door, and he opened it for her. She swallowed.
The room was white, and it seared her eyes, blinding her for a moment. The sharp smell of a clean, sterile environment burned in her nose. The smell of fear, pain and panic, undetectable to most humans, hung thick in the air. A man in a white coat approached them He spoke with a smooth voice.
"Hello, Dilandau. I see you've brought ... Gabrielle here?" He asked him.
"Yes." He growled. The man then turned his sharp, piercing grey eyes into Gabrielle's.
"Okay, we have to do some tests on you." He said. "I am Dr. Jerrick. We'll be running a blood and brain test on you today." He explained, and she shuddered. Something about him was unpleasantly familiar. She saw how tense Dilandau appeared to be here, and she figured again that if he was afraid, she should be too.
Dr. Jerrick led Gabrielle to a metal table. "Please lie down here," He instructed, pointing in a room behind a window at a table. "Dilandau, you can come if you feel you want to." He said. She nervously walked into the room behind the window. There was a large table in the centre of the room, with a light right above it and surrounded by machines of many undeterminable purposes. She was in the room alone with Dilandau for the moment. She looked at the thick leather straps on the table. She swallowed.
"I'd never get out of those. Dilandau, what exactly are they going to do to me?" She asked nervously.
"Oh, probably just some blood tests and brain wave monitoring or something." He suggested, and was reassuring himself at the same time. There was that strange feeling, almost like a knot in his stomach. It told him to protect her.
"I'll be right here, so... Don't worry, it can't be that bad." He said.
"That bad?" She asked.
Dr. Jerrick walked in. "Please lie down," He told her. She nervously complied, and he fastened the straps around her wrists and ankles.
"W-what are those straps for?" She asked fearfully.
"So that you don't fall off." He replied nonchalantly. "I need a sample of your blood." He stated and he withdrew a large needle from a drawer. Her eyes widened.
"Nnn!" She yelped as he came towards her with the needle.
"Just relax your arm. It won't hurt much." He said. She tried to make her arm as relaxed as a noodle, but it didn't really work. Once she felt it pierce her flesh, she squeezed her eyes tightly and she yelped again as he retracted it cleanly. A syringe full of her warm, red blood rested in Dr. Jerrick's hand. He removed the needle mechanism and placed the vial in a small machine that rocked back and forth to keep it from congealing.
He then withdrew another syringe, filled with a clear yellow fluid, and she squirmed.
"What's that?" She asked.
"Just a sedative." He said soothingly.
"No! No sedatives! I don't like sedatives, no. I want to stay conscious, please. No stuff that makes me sleepy." She said rapidly. The memories of her childhood operations came flooding back: The fear, the gas masks, the needles. She was most afraid of letting go of her consciousness. She hated not being in control. Sedated sleep was a sleep that you couldn't wake up from until the drug wore off, and she was afraid of that. She had a terminal fear of those, and she squirmed insanely when he advanced her.
"No! Please, no! I'm afraid of those drugs, please don't make me fall asleep! Please," She begged, her fear growing with every step Dr. Jerrick took towards her.
"I'm sorry, Gabrielle, but we have to find out how you see the things you see!" He exclaimed, and he advanced again. Her head twisted to where Dilandau stood, off to the side. Her look was of complete and utter betrayal.
"Dilandau...? How could you...? You were supposed to keep that a secret!" She cried out, tears welling in her eyes. Her gaze that fell upon him was one of hurt. He dropped his eyes away from her in shame. It was his fault she was going through this.
"No! Get away from me! Don't stick me with that needle! Please, I'll do whatever you want, I don't care about pain, please just don't sedate me! Please!" She begged frantically. Dilandau spoke up.
"If she says she doesn't want it, don't make her take it." He said stiffly.
"Dilandau, please. You are here to watch, not to participate!" He snapped, and Gabrielle squirmed wildly, completely petrefied of that needle the man held in his hand. He was right over her now, and she cried, hot wet tears streaming down her face. She was defeated. She was going to lose control.
"Dr. Jerrick, I'm allergic to those! Those cause muscle spasms in me and I can't breathe! Please, don't!" She screamed, her eyes wide and following the tip of the needle.
"There is only one person we know of who has that allergy..." Dr. Jerrick said. "But I have to make sure. Relax. This is the type that you're not allergic to." He assured her. Dilandau walked up to the table.
"Dr. Jerrick," He insisted. "Don't do this. Can't you see she's scared out of her mind? Look at her. Just leave her alone. I'm sure whatever tests you have to do, you don't need to put her under. A general anesthetic, anyways. I'm sure you could use some Daro venom for a local." He said.
Dr, Jerrick ignored him, and he raised Gabrielle's sleeve. She cried even harder, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, her body rigid with paralyzing fear. Dilandau almost didn't know what he was doing when he gripped her slender hand. Memories of himself strapped to the table in a mindless, thrashing episode of fear came back to him. He could understand her. For the first time in his life, he looked on to another being with sympathy. He reached out to snatch the syringe away, but Dr. Jerrick glared at him.
"Do you want to be put on a table, too, Dilandau? I'm sure I can update my test results on you. Watch if you want to, even hold her hand like you're doing, I don't care. Just don't interfere. Got it?" Dr. Jerrick hissed at him. He looked at himself, his gloved hand around hers, and then Dilandau seethed inside. He wanted to pound the man's face in! The urge to protect her was so strong that he felt if she cried one more tear in her fear, he was going to be forced to wring Dr. Jerrick's throat. It tugged on his insides like a hook, along with that funny feeling he sometimes got in his chest. Perhaps he should undergo a test... See what was wrong with him... No. Whatever it was, he was sure it wasn't allowed for him, and he didn't want to be mentally thrashed any more.
She cried as Dr. Jerrick injected her with a little more than half of the dose of the clear yellow liquid. "Dilandau, I've decided to compromise. This won't put her completely out. She'll be drowsy, but she won't be forced to fall asleep. If she does, she does it of her own will. Are you happy with that?" Dilandau looked at Gabrielle, beginning to fight the drugs. "I can always put her fully under." He menaced.
"I'm fine with it." Dilandau replied abruptly.
"Good." Dr. Jerrick said.
Dilandau held her hand still. He wished this Jerrick doctor had not made him clarify all about the fuzzy radio waves they had received from Gabrielle's first test flight. She was trying to fight the drugs out of her system, and it seemed that she was winning for a long while. Eventually, her grip on his hand weakened ever so slightly, and then little by little, he saw her slipping away from him, the misty look in her eyes giving the drugs' effects away.
"You lied to me!" He snapped at Dr. Jerrick. Gabrielle shuddered, and he saw the consciousness flicker back into her eyes. She blinked slowly, and her breathing was deep.
"No," He grunted, and he approached her limp body. Dr. Jerrick proceeded to lift her shirt to expose just her higher abdomen and nothing more. "Aha!" He exclaimed.
"She has the scar! Johannes, come here!" He called, and another scientist walked in from the next room. He looked at the scar.
"I see." He said. He looked at Dilandau.
"And she ... fell from the sky, did she?" He asked.
"Yes." Dilandau replied quietly. "I saw her myself."
'Johannes' and Dr. Jerrick went to a corner and conversed quietly, out of Dilandau's earshot. He couldn't make out their whispers. All he could tell was that 'Johannes' had been studying her blood sample and had found... Something highly unusual about it. He couldn't piece it all together just yet. He looked back down at Gabrielle. Her eyes were shut, and her breathing was deep and regular. She'd fallen asleep. The drugs had taken their effect. He continued to hold her hand dutifully as the scientists came back. Still, he didn't quite know why. Perhaps it was because he knew she needed it.
"Dilandau, she fell from the sky. She can't be trusted... We don't know if she's an enemy spy. Don't promote her, just keep her where she is. Most of all, don't get close to her... She might turn on us." He reasoned coldly. "And remember your training," He spat. "Don't care for anyone, in case the day comes where you might have to kill them." He said, and he turned away. "She might turn on us," He repeated. "She's no good. Take her away." He said. "But wait, Dr. Jerrick." Said Johannes. "I want to do a brainwave on her..." He said, and he attached a few cords to her head, and Dilandau watched as a rapidly flicking needle recorded scribbles on a paper.
"She is..." Johannes trailed, and then he told Dilandau to take her back.
"The effects of the drug should be wearing off in a while. Take her back." He said. He detached the cords from her, and he lifted Gabrielle into Dilandau's arms.
Dilandau carried her to her quarters, and he punched in her code in the ID lock at her room. He knew all of his Dragonslayers' codes. He stepped into the room, carrying her, and he placed her down on the bed. He noticed how scratchy the blankets were, and he wrinkled his nose at the thought of trying to sleep on them. He stood back up and turned to go. He stood near the door, but turned around and looked at her sleeping. Why did he consistently get that weird feeling in him when he was near her? It was kind of pleasant in a very strange, strange way, but he figured he would never get used to it. Maybe he should look it up on the computer. Maybe he was sick or something. But doesn't being sick mean you feel horrible... All the time? This doesn't feel horrible, nor is it all the time. It's just when I'm with her. He reconsidered looking up illnesses on the computer. Maybe I should look up 'emotions' instead. He thought. The commander opened the door and stepped outside.
As soon as he'd left, she opened her eyes. She looked to make sure he was really gone. So what is this? I can't be trusted? What did I do? How could he betray me? She curled up into a ball. Why couldn't she just disappear? Then it occurred to her that she had disappeared. From her home. She'd never see Kels again, or her cat, or her boyfriend, or mother and father. None of that. And now, she was going to be distanced from everyone here because she'd 'fallen out of the sky and can't be trusted?' She wallowed in her misery for what seemed like a long time.
After about an hour, there was a knock from the lower part of her door. Someone must have kicked it.
"Come in..." She sighed, and she pressed the button. The door opened with a hiss, and she didn't even bother to look at who it was. Maybe it was those scientists, come to tell her she was useless and couldn't be trusted, and then stab her with needles again.
"I brought you some food." Came a familiar voice. She looked up, and it was the weirdest, most out-of-place thing she'd ever seen in her life. It was Dilandau holding a food tray, and he gave it to her. "Here," He said. "Will you eat that? The rations aren't exactly that appealing." He stated. "I know that I'm always hungry after I come out of there... I made it myself," He added, and she thought she detected the slightest bit of boyish pride. She thought about smiling at this.
It was a sandwich. She thanked him quietly, then picked it up. She ate it quickly, eager to satiate her hunger. She finished it before she knew it.
"How are you, Gabrielle?" The question was practised, she could tell. He had so little experience with others!
"What, going to go tell your friends in white about me for a follow up?" She snidely remarked, not thinking of her place. Just for that moment, he was just a young man and she a young woman, and he had betrayed her. The corner of his eye twitched.
"Gabrielle, it's not what you think -" He was about to continue when she stood up and walked out the door, headed for the docking bay.
"Thanks for the sandwiches, sir." She managed, her voice near breaking. She couldn't even trust her own commander.
Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked down the hall, turning to the left, walking into the docking bay. She stepped up to the Libreia, and its yellow eyes glowed faintly before activation. "Libreia, open." She commanded it. Its doors opened, and she sat in the comfortable seat. She pulled her small MP3 player from her pocket and put in her earphones.
"Libreia, open bay doors." She said.
.:Acknowledged.:. The computer replied, and sent a signal to the doors to open. The guymelef's wings opened and she soared out into the clear night. She had no idea how far she was going to fly away from the Zaibach Fortress, and she didn't have an intention of going back. She knew she would have to eventually, but right then she just wanted to fly on forever.
Back at the base, Dilandau fumed. There was an announcement.
"Dilandau, please report to the Dragonslayer's headquarters immediately. Thank-you." It said. Why? He wondered, but he headed for the room anyways. He got there only a few moments later, and Gatti was there, holding a piece of paper that he proceeded to read to him.
"Pilot number 68372 has departed on a mecha flight. While this is not prohibited and is in fact encouraged for training reasons, it imposes a danger upon Pilot number 68372 because curfew rules will be enforced in a half hour. We ask that you persue Pilot number 68372 and return back to the base. Curfew lockup will be extended for another half hour to give you time to do this. Thank you." Gatti read. "Which one is Pilot 68372?" Gatti asked worriedly.
"Gabrielle," Replied his commander.
"She's gone? This message is already twenty minutes old." Gatti exclaimed.
"Oh, shit..." Dilandau swore, and he headed for the docking bay.
If I can't get to her in time, she'll be locked out overnight. If I can't get to her, what about me? I'll be locked out, too, in the Oreides. I'm screwed... He thought grimly. If the fall from the sky doesn't kill her, the wild animals certainly will. She has next to no weapons when the Libreia runs out of power, which it will soon. We're both screwed...
By this time he was already in the Oreides and preparing to jump. The heavy dock's doors opened and a blast of cold night air at high altitude washed over him.He pressed a button on the interface and a tracking grid appeared. He set the modifications for the Libreia's type and then he flew after it at the highest speed his engines could bear.
He passed trees faster than he could see them, and the mountains blurred together to make a greenish coloured mass. However, the computer knew what it was doing, and followed her flawlessly. He noticed that the curfew was closing in five minutes, and he knew there was no way he could make it in time. He continued anways. He noticed that the blinking red dot that represented Gabrielle on the screen had ceased movement. Dilandau homed in on the signal. He landed as carefully as he could over the rocky terrain and exited the Oreides. They were miles from the Fortress, and the computer said they were in some near uncharted areas of mountainous forest. Wonderful.
Gabrielle, why did you pick this place for your angst-fest? He complained as he trudged about. Why did he care so much? Why wasn't he angry? Perhaps it was that mote of understanding.
He was surprised to find Gabrielle sitting high above on a jutted out rock overlooking the ocean. The moon shone silver on her features and illuminated half of her so perfectly. He snapped out of his little thought, and he began to ascend the small hill up towards her. When he reached the summit that she sat upon, he spoke quietly, so as not to startle her.
"Hey,"He called to her softly. Without turning her head or breaking her look upon the stirring waters far below, she replied to him in a sad tone.
"Hey." There was a moment of mutual silence. "I'm sorry I said that to you, I was just so angry." She finally spoke.
"Yeah," He answered, explaining nothing. She hadn't been expecting a recognition of his own error. She turned and looked at him, and she smiled very softly, which he figured was an invitation to sit by her, so he swung lightly over the tip of the rock that separated them and he sat down.
"You know, the curfew is passed ten minutes ago." He said grimly.
"What's curfew?" She asked him, and he looked to the ocean. "All 'melefs have to be inside at a certain time because the Fortress locks up at night to prevent from attack. Only exceptions are elite missions that nobody talks about." He said.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you follow me like that. I didn't mean to." She apologized.
"You didn't know..." He sighed. "There are strange creatures that roam around these parts of the country during the night, so we should go find someplace safe to stay until first light tomorrow." He explained. She nodded, and stood carefully, taking a last look at the glittering sea. She turned and slid down the face of the rock towards the Libreia. She opened the doors and waited for him.
"I'm sorry again, Dilandau."
"Just walk in the mech for now, we don't want to use up too much power." He explained as he climbed into the Oreides' cockpit. The two suits started to walk through the forest together for quite some time before they came to a suitable place. Dilandau told her to hop out, and she did after him. They placed the mechs on standby to save power and let them recharge. Gabrielle found a few pieces of wood and some sticks and began to rub them together to make a spark out of the friction. He scoffed.
"You don't need to do that," He said.
"Well, then how do you propose we make a fire?" She asked him. A peculiar glint in his eye made itself known to her.
"Just watch!" He said in a tone she'd never heard him speak in before. "Move back." He announced, and he returned to the Oreides. One massive arm of the red suit lifted, and a gout of flame blasted from the tip, lighting the large sticks on fire. He then turned it and grabbed two dead trees, halved, quartered and heaved three of the quarters into to the fire. He placed one a good distance away from it, presumably to use as a seat. He then exited the suit, and hopped out. He stood proudly before the fire. "And that's how you start a fire!" He exclaimed.
She giggled a little bit and sat down on one of the logs. He sat on the other end.
"So... When does the Fortress reopen?" She asked him.
"Morning. We're going to have to spend the night here." He said. "It's too bad you didn't know about curfew." He added, and she nodded slowly.
"Then I wouldn't have unwittingly dragged you into this mess." She said. "But you didn't, you did, and here we are." He said, shrugging his shoulders. She smiled sheepishly, and she watched the fire eat into the wood, slowly sucking the life out of it. She had always been fascinated by fire. She loved it. It was too far away from her to give her adequate heat, and she began to shiver. Dilandau noticed this.
"You're cold?" He asked in more of a statement.
"Y-yes. A little." She stammered. Her teeth were beginning to chatter.
"I'm cold too." He said, and did nothing about it for a moment.
"I-is there anything we can get from the mech to k-keep us warm?" She asked him.
"No, not really." He said, and he looked at the section of broken log she was sitting on. It was big enough to fit two...
He stood and stepped over to the other section and sat on it next to her.
"We can keep each other warm." He said matter-of-factly. He looked into the fire. He considered moving closer to it, but he figured that the sparks might get them. There was only a row of stones separating it from the ground, and there might be flammable things on the ground. As long as it wasn't catching, he figured he should leave it. He put his arm around her to keep her warmer, so she would stop shivering. Much had happened since he had decided to take this strange girl in, and it had taken some definite pulling of strings. Punching of faces would have probably been a more apt description, however... The far distant howls of creatures on the moutains to the side of them reached their ears. He stirred. Dilandau stole a few glances at Gabrielle as she contemplatively stared at the flames, listening to them talk in some ancient language. There was something he found inherently pleasant about how she looked. He looked down at her again, and she looked back up at him. That's when it happened.
A feeling as hard to resist as instinct came over him with a rush. He leaned down just slightly, and he briefly touched his lips gently to hers, kissing her. It lasted but a second or two. He felt her body stiffen from surprise, and he became aware of a tight aching feeling in his back. It stopped after a short time. He paid it no mind. Dilandau pulled just a little back from her, and she opened her blue eyes. He exhaled, having held his breath through the pleasant confusion. She smiled at him shyly, a little blush on her pale features, illuminated by the firelight.
A black feather floated down between them, and Gabrielle caught it in her fingers. She looked up, slightly past him, and her eyes grew wide.
"Dilandau, look! You have... You have wings!" She exclaimed, but all her voice was gone from shock. He turned his head to the side to look, and... Indeed, he did have wings! He saw one, massive and shining ebony black. It looked like a raven's wing, except on a much larger scale.
His jaw dropped. He found he could control them. He flapped them, and a great gust of displaced air whooshed past them.
"I... I know?" He blurted, near struck dumb. He flapped them again. He stretched one high above him, almost straight up, and then he folded the other. He spread them both at the same time, and then he stood. He looked at her curiously. What had made him do that? More importantly... Wings! Like the Fanelian King. He stared at the ground intently as he tried to remember his parents. Nothing.
"Your wings are gone," She said, amazed. "They just... Sucked back into your body." She said. She stood curiously and walked around to behind him. He instinctively turned to face her. "Turn around," She said with a distant, intrigued look. Reluctantly, he complied.
She inspected the torn material. It was torn halfway down his back, the leather busted through, evidence of a great force. She touched his shoulder blades with one hand. He turned his head halfway to see what she was doing.
"Can you do it again?" She asked, and stepped to the side of him so that if the wings did come out again, they wouldn't knock her backwards.
"I don't know." He replied. "I'll try."
He knelt on the ground and crossed his arms, shutting his eyes. He concentrated for a moment, but grew frustrated after a good five minutes of nothing and slammed his fist on the gound.
"Dilandau, relax." She said softly.
"I can't do it." He said bitterly. She looked at the torn material.
"It takes a lot of force to rip through leather and punch through some metal, too." She said. The backs of his shoulderguards were all bent out of shape at the expellation of the wings. He quieted and tried again. No effect. She thought for a moment, and then an idea struck her.
"You might as well take off that thing, it might help." She said, in a practical tone. It was true. He slipped off the arm guards and the bent shoulder guards, letting them fall to the ground with a clanking noise. He pulled off the ruined leather over his head, smoothing down his hair when he pulled it off.
"What does that have to do with anything?" He asked, a confused expression on his face.
"Well, you won't wreck your shirt anymore, and it will be easier for your wings to come out," She explained. That's all she'd thought about it when she'd suggested it. But now, when she looked at him... He looks good shirtless. She girlishly giggled to herself in her mind.
"Try again," She suggested.
"It won't work," He said stubbornly.
"Please, I have an idea." She said.
"Fine, but I'm telling you it won't work." He said flatly, and she smiled at him. Just the way she smiled and the light played about her, it made him look at the ground and shrug in begrudging agreement.
"Okay," He finally muttered. She walked to his front and gripped his ice cold hands.
"Forgive me in advance,"Gabrielle said, and stretched up and kissed him on the cheek. Then she kissed him properly, letting go of his hands. There was a slight 'fwish' noise, and then he stood, his wings extended fully behind him. Dislodged feathers floated down around them. He opened his eyes surprisedly when she pulled back.
"You." He started, lowering an eyebrow, but couldn't think of anything else. She smiled warmly.
"See? Don't be so quick do dismiss ideas." She said.
"But... You didn't tell me first." He said, tilting his head to one side.
"I know. You might have disagreed if I'd told you." She said to him, making a playful expression. He looked to the tree beside him.
"No," He said simply, a newly experienced hot feeling creeping over the bridge of his nose. "I wouldn't have."
She smiled.
"Try to fly," She said, changing the subject for his sake. She didn't think he'd ever really been embarassed before. He nodded and turned, lifting his wings high above him so that he didn't bump her with them. He put his foot on the Oreides to climb it. He figured he could jump from there.
"Go fly." She whispered to him. He began to climb the Oreides, and he sat atop the mecha's head after only a minute or two, the occasional feather blowing from his wings to the ground. He stood shakily on the smooth, polished surface. He was beginning to rethink trying to jump from this height.
The wind stirred his hair, and his wings fluttered a little as he regained balance. What if they go back when I jump off? He thought nervously. A strange feeling bubbled up in the middle of his stomach. It felt like a creature was swimming in there. Fear. He was about to just shake his head and climb down when he reminded himself... Of himself. He was a soldier, and an officer, too. He wouldn't let a height like this scare him! He was only thirty feet off the ground, and he had wings, like that cursed White Dragon's pilot. Better than that other boy's. His were black, he smugly told himself. Not a sissy white. He looked back at Gabrielle down below him, and he coiled back to jump into the chilled night air with his shining black wings.
He took in a deep breath, and he leapt into the air, his wings spreading to catch the air. He reached the critical split second moment where he would either begin to fall, or rise up into the air. He began to fall. He used everything in him to make the wings pound hard in the air, making him stop and hover for a moment. Slowly, he started to rise, and he tried to make himself move forward. Nothing happened. He startled, awkwardly flopping about in the air with all the majesty of a fledgling. Half falling, he allowed himself to sink back to the ground.
At the very least, he landed gracefully, with a sweep of his magnificent wings, and he stood back on the ground, breathing fairly heavily with the effort of flight. His wings retracted. She was sitting complacently on the log, near the fire, which had begun to burn down. She was smiling softly.
"I wish I could fly," She said. She stared up at the space between the leaves longingly. "You're so lucky,"
He blinked. He'd never thought of himself that way.
"Anyways," She continued, "I'm tired." She yawned.
"How can you just accept all this?"
"All what?"
"You're so far away from wherever you just came from, you're in an army without cause and you just watched me get wings out of my back. I don't even know if I can comprehend it, let alone accept it."
"Oh, all that. Well, there's no use in freaking out about it. I'm here, aren't I?" She shrugged.
"Where are we going to sleep tonight?" She wondered aloud.
"The 'melefs might be good." Dilandau said thoughtfully.
"Well, the systems stay online as long as a pilot is present in the cockpit and I thought we were trying to recharge them." She reasoned.
"True." He said, "But I don't have any other better ideas, how about you?" He said. Her gaze turned to the soft earth by the fire.
"There," She said nonchalantly.
"I guess." He said flatly. "If we have to."
He gathered up the remnants of the leather shirt and placed it on the ground.
"Use that as a pillow." He cleared his throat. She stood up from the log and made her way to the place where he had placed down the clothes. She slowly and sleepily lowered herself down on the ground and placed her head on the makeshift pillow. She curled up as small as she could comfortably, and watched the fire embers glow as they began to die.
"Y-you should put on another log," She commented as she shivered, feeling the utmost cold, but refusing to show signs of it. He nodded agreeably. He walked not far before he found a hefty dry log and poked it into the fire. She watched the sparks skip and dance about. In barely a few moments, the fire was crackling again, but she still felt cold.
He went and lay on the other side of the fire, and watched it too. She didn't notice that his gaze more than often wandered inquisitively to her. She shut her eyes and attempted to sleep, but every few minutes she would shiver, waking herself up. She did this several times without complaint. She sneezed, and made an exasperated noise. She had almost been asleep! She shuffled a few inches closer to the fire, but it made hardly a difference. Any closer though, and she feared a spark might catch. She sighed in her predicamant, and attempted to sleep again, all her attempts in vain. She could feel his watchful eyes on her and it didn't help. She pretended to ignore it and went back to trying to sleep.
There was a very slight shuffle in the dirt as he stood up. He treaded softly, so as not to wake her again, just in case she had finally managed it. No. She shivered again and her eyes opened. He lay down again, but this time beside her, putting one arm over her. He was cold himself, but he figured that two together would keep them warmer. He was silent. Slowly, and over time, she stopped shivering. Her eyes closed, and she finally slept. He watched her sleep, for a moment. Once her muscles had relaxed, and her breath had slowed and become deeper, he pulled her closer to him. Not because he was cold, but just because he wanted her to be there. It felt good to him. Why, he didn't really know. It was unclear to him. He just wanted it. The feel of it, perhaps. Feel. Such a new term. Such a confusing concept. He held her firmly with his left hand, and he fell asleep that way.