Chapter 3

After walking through the door, the black-haired man ended up in a tavern's abandoned side room. Not as bad as he had feared. The tavern itself was crowded and full of men in various states of drunkenness, so he still had a chance of getting away without being seen. He crossed the room with several strides of his long legs, left the inn unnoticed, and made his way to the merchant district of Pallas. After only a short while of sneaking through dark alleys and narrow side streets, he reached his destination. He quietly knocked on the rear entrance which was opened a crack after a short moment.

"Hello? Who's there?" A low, female voice asked carefully before she recognized the man at the door. Her anxious face immediately changed to show excitement and utter relief. "Van! It was about time you came back!" She cried full of assurance and jumped into his arms. Now the large, feline ears on her head appeared, and her puffy tail swung happily from side to side. "Merle, let go before you suffocate me!", Van chuckled quietly and attempted to gently but firmly push her away. Sighing, he squeezed himself through the small opening with the pink-haired, purring cat girl still attached to him.

"Ah, there you are! Now Merle can finally get some sleep. She hasn't stopped checking the clock since you left," a deep and amused, male voice snickered.

"Dryden! Come on it's not really been that long," Van murmured with slight displeasure in his voice and followed Dryden into the only room with a fireplace. The warmth it emanated was eagerly welcomed by all at this time of the year.

Dryden sat onto the cushions of a large, worn couch in front of the fireplace where the flames were dancing merrily. The comforting warmth already began to seep into Van's tired body.

"Was your mission successful?" The brown-haired man asked curiously, stretching his long legs languidly.

Van glanced at Dryden, shaking his head, crestfallen. "Not in the way I'd hoped. Folken has been seen there, yes, but not in the last few months. I swear I'm going to go crazy soon!" He groaned and slammed his flat hand on the table next to him before slumping down in the armchair closest to the fireplace.

Merle, who had just joined them in the room again and was holding a cup of hot tea in her paws, winced at the sound of it. "I brought you something warm to drink. You must have been freezing on your way here," she mumbled quietly and went rigid when Van covered her hand with his, the warmth of his fingers transferring into hers.

"I apologize. I didn't intend to scare you. Thanks for the drink, Merle." He squeezed her hand, thanking her, before letting go. A tinge of red flushed the feline's cheeks and a small smile appeared on her lips as she quickly averted her gaze and took the empty seat next to Dryden.

Van was like the brother she never had. She had lost count of the many nights she had laid awake in the past, waiting for him to return unharmed. He wouldn't give up on the search for his own brother, Folken, until he found him. She only hoped whatever he found wouldn't upset him, when he finally did.

"He definitely knows how to stay hidden well," Dryden murmured meanwhile, calmly staring into the flames. His intelligent, brown eyes wandered to Van before he added, "Which certainly doesn't apply to you. Next time you go on a mission, make sure no one sees you. Sometimes you are just much too rash in your actions."

Van picked up the reprimanding undertone in his voice which instantly annoyed him.

"I'm very capable of taking care of myself, you know." While he answered, Dryden's eyes were closing at the sound of Van's rebuttal. Van was trying to suppress the feeling of anger welling up in his chest. He indeed was thankful that Dryden had allowed him and Merle to hide here and that he had been taking care of them. Sometimes though, like now, he had to be reminded where his place was. "Van, I know that, but don't forget about Merle. She's counting on you." With that, he rose, stretched his limbs again and wished them both a good night before Van could reply again.

Merle glanced at Van, not quite sure what to say. She certainly didn't appreciate it when Dryden made it out as if she was a burden to Van. She wasn't a burden. After all, Merle was the one who had been gathering all kinds of information about Folken's possible whereabouts. However, it was becoming harder and harder to find new leads since the soldiers under Allen Shezars command were beginning to be more careful. Her men had had huge difficulties finding worthy leads as of late.

One of Van's deep sighs brought her back to the current situation. Merle looked at him emphatically. "What is it, Van?" She questioned and advanced on him slowly. Her arms wound themselves around his neck in an awkward half-hug while she purred into his ear. "You'll find your brother eventually. I'm sure of it. Perhaps he's going to come back on his own if he realizes that you're looking for him."
When he simply continued to sit still in the armchair without returning her embrace, her heart fell a bit. She was used to him not reciprocating physical contact. Nevertheless, she wanted to support and help him as well as she could.

While she thought about this, Van's arms found their way to her shoulders. Merle winced a bit at the soft touch, her eyebrows rising suspiciously since she had expected for him to push her away.

"Thank you, Merle. I'm sorry you are exposing yourself to danger every time you go outside. You don't have to do it, you know?"

He turned his head to face her and his auburn eyes connected with her cobalt ones. It caused her knees to go soft. Her ears flattened against her head and she averted her eyes.

"I don't want to be useless, that's why I'm glad that I'm able to help. I wouldn't be alive anymore if it wasn't for you." She tightened her hug a bit before finally letting go.

Merle then wrinkled her nose in displeasure and mumbled: "You smell like perfume and ill repute, by the way."

After a nice walk through the misty streets in the morning hours, Hitomi opened the door to her room and entered. It was cold inside, the fire already long dead. Trembling, she put her coat away and began the process of lighting a new fire. When she was done, Hitomi grabbed a few warm blankets and sat in front of the crackling flames to warm herself.

She was lost in thoughts. Who had this black-haired man been? What did he have to do with those Abaharaki? Allen hadn't told her anything about them while he was with her. Tired, she pulled her face into a grimace. How she hated him.

While the fire was beginning to crackle soundly, she added more wood before padding to her bed on bare feet and sighed contently as she laid down. As soon as she closed her eyes, she fell fast asleep.

Flames raged through the large building in which she now stood. She could feel the heat on her face and looked around, frightened. Where was she? What was happening? Not far from her, she heard frantic screams. "MOTHER, FATHER!" Hitomi dodged the flames and followed the voice, drawn to it despite the danger. Suddenly she lost her footing in a puddle of slippery liquid. While she fell, she saw a red pool of blood in front of her and the empty eyes of a woman with long, black hair regarding her from behind it.

Hitomi was startled from her sleep, soaked in sweat. Shivering all over, she slowly straightened up and dazedly shook her head.

"What the ...," she whispered and sat in her bed, afraid to move. What had she seen? What had this horrible dream been about?

After a few minutes, she had recovered enough to get up. She walked into her bathroom, to the small sink, and drank a few sips of the cold water. When she looked up, she could only stare at herself in the mirror, rooted to the spot.

The only thing she could focus on was the blood. It hadn't been sweat after all. It was on her face, in her hair, on her hands; all over. Her breathing became shallow and fast while her fingers reached for her face, but the blood spread even more when she tried to wipe it off.

Hitomi began to sob, panic fast with eyes glued to the mirror. Suddenly, she tasted the blood in her mouth as well and nearly choked. She couldn't breathe anymore and slowly sank to the ground while dark blood spluttered out of her mouth. Her hand jerked against the ground uselessly as she slowly sank into black emptiness, her dull eyes zoning out into the distance.

Once more, she felt the scorching heat on her skin. The empty look of the dead woman with the long, dark hair in front of her struck Hitomi to the core. Quickly, she scrambled to her feet, out of the bloody mess she had found herself in again and hurried on along the hallway. She had to go where the desperate screams were coming from. She knew she had to be fast; otherwise, it would be too late. But for what? Too late for what? Her instincts and bravery drove her forward, through a wall of flames which were scorching her skin and hair in the process. The pain she felt was already excruciating when she finally came into a large hall and spotted a boy who had barely reached adolescence. He was the source of the desperate wails because, amidst all the chaos, he was screaming for his parents to come and save him. Hitomi wiped soot and sweat from her eyes as she approached in a desperate attempt to protect him but suddenly paused. There he was, behind the boy. Younger, but unmistakably, it was him. Silver hair, rust red eyes, and wearing a black cloak. Seeing what he was holding, clenched in one fist, made Hitomi clap her hands over her mouth to muffle a sharp scream.

Again, she awoke; body jerking wildly and sweating. This time she found herself on the floor of her bathroom. The blood! She wanted to get up and almost fell over again, her head pounding and her stomach rebelling. Hitomi looked down and checked her hands, but there was no blood left.

Even when she regarded herself in the mirror, nothing was visible. She slumped against the bathroom wall and took a few calming breaths. What had just happened to her? Why had she suddenly seen the silver-haired man? Had he really held a severed head in his hand while laughing menacingly? Tears flooded her eyes and she shook her head. The little boy ... his black hair had looked familiar to her, but it couldn't be him. Was that little boy really her visitor, but at a younger age? After all, he had wanted to know about this silver-haired man's whereabouts.

After a few more minutes of contemplation, she decided to take a relaxing shower. Her thoughts were on a rampage and didn't get her anywhere. She somehow had to meet this black-haired man again, but she had no clue where to find him.

Van was in his bed but sleep remained elusive even in the early morning hours. His head was busy processing the past day, especially the events of the night. His limbs were laden when he finally closed his garnet eyes. He put his arm across his forehead in an attempt to suppress the slight throb behind his temples.

So she had really seen him. Folken. His brother. The traitor.

"Folken ..." he whispered. Quiet, suppressed rage spread in him. His hand clenched into a fist and crushed the coverlet within it. Van gritted his teeth. If only he could get his hands on him, but Folken seemed to be one step ahead, always. As soon as he thought he was close, his brother was already gone again and had covered all traces.

Van's disobedient thoughts wandered to the green-eyed woman he had met for the first time last night. Hitomi was her name. Silently, he formed the syllables with his full lips. He remembered her delicate but well-formed figure and smooth, honey-blonde hair. How she had been lounging in her cushions when she looked at him so seductively.

Frustrated, he rolled over in bed and tried to banish her image from his head. He probably needed to visit her again. The thought of it irritated him. Really, he didn't know how exactly she would actually be able to help him and the fact that he had been recognized when visiting this place was definitely bad. Van smirked a bit at the next thought though; he knew the secret passage now.

He allowed himself to think of her one last time before finally slipping into a deep, heavy sleep filled with vivid dreams.

Allen carelessly tossed his blue uniform coat into a corner near the door. When he finally had arrived at his house, he had immediately gone to his room. It was already late in the morning and the search for the Abaharaki rebel had been unsuccessful. Deeply aggravated, he sat down in a chair and began to think.

If this scum continued to be spotted in Pallas, it would begin to pose serious difficulties. Asturia's king had ordered that all of these traitors were to be arrested and executed without a trial. The Abaharaki caused trouble for the Zaibachian allies and Asturia couldn't allow that. Not after Zaibach had subjugated almost all other countries. Asturia was, thankfully, still a valuable ally to them for now.

Truthfully, Allen felt that they were being infiltrated slowly but surely; not that it bothered him much on a personal level. He had the utmost respect for the commander-in-chief of the Zaibachian armies. Grinning, he remembered when he had found out who the man was, he had almost laughed at the ironic circumstances. He surely wouldn't mind working directly under this brilliant man's command instead, but he had to be patient for now.

When he heard careful, light steps in the hallway making the floorboards creak, he raised his head.

"Allen, is that you?" The soft, female voice sounded tired and fragile. Sighing, he rose and stepped out of the room into the hallway.

"Celena! Please sleep a little longer while you can.", He admonished her. The young woman's pale blue eyes were dull with weariness and sadness. "Everywhere…the red eyes ... they are following me ... I can't rest anymore, they will hunt me again if I fall asleep ...," she sobbed and threw herself into his arms.

Allen's bad conscience was nagging at him again. In order to gain Zaibach's trust, he had had to entrust his sister to the commander-in-chief; that was the condition. His only sister.

So far, he hadn't been filled into their strategic plans and he also didn't know what was being done to Celena during her time with this man. They were granted only a few and short visits with each other where she was allowed to spend time at their house.

Allen saw her appearance change each time she came home. She was growing paler, weaker and she was starting to be less aware now, too. As if they were slowly taking her life from her. However, everything had a price and Celena had readily agreed to his plan in the beginning. But sometimes ... sometimes, like at this moment, there was a tinge of regret inside him as to whether his decision had been well enough thought out.

Unfortunately, Allen selfishly deluded himself, it was too late.

A/N: So, that was the third Chapter already. :)

At the beginning I thought there are only few readers, who are interested in this kind of story. But it really means a lot for me to get a few reviews on my story and the (unbelieveable great!) beta-and-translation-work of 40four; showing me that our time is not wasted at all ;)

Therefore, thank you all very much: 40four, thepinkmartini, Miss-Miz and banryuu (I hope you can cope with Allen being a bad guy for a while... ;D)