Amare Dividere

Title: Secret Departures [Part Four]
Series: Vision of Escaflowne
Rating: PG-13 for some violence.
A/N: I just have to say that I really love the flashback sequence in this one.


***

It is cold in the cell. Millerna and the other woman, whom she had come to know as being Nileyah, the Kathis of the Cesarian prince, huddle together. The door opens earlier than normal, and Nileyah stirs, glancing up.

"Aden," she breathes, glaring at the hooded figure she knows to be her brother and slowly disengaging the other woman to stand.

"Nileyah."

"What happened to turn you from us?"

Slowly, pale-looking tanned hands lower the hood from his face, and he stares at his twin sister evenly. The tattoos on the back of his hands seem darker than normal to her, and his black hair seems thin and uncared for. His brown eyes, as he looks at her, are red-rimmed, though obviously not from crying, and his strong face seems slightly dead.

And then she feels it, almost the same moment that her eyes see it.

The thick heavy collar around his neck, surrounded by scrape marks. Obviously that had been the cause of all of what was happening with him, but she can't quite put her finger on what the collar does.

"There is no time, sister," he says, moving forward and lifting his hands to the shackles on the wall, wrenching them out. "You must escape and get word to the Compound on her whereabouts."

"You shouldn't be able to help me, Aden… that collar is a…"

"I can fight it, some, when you're near."

"Then this is all my fault," she says softly, standing a bit shakily as he frees the last of her bindings. "If I hadn't gone…"

"I left first, to be the former Queen's Kathis, if you recall." He puts a tattooed hand to his sister's shoulder to steady her. "Once Daeluzito had her cornered, he killed her. It was a quiet coup, and by the time his men caught up to us, there was only me left. I tried to protect her… but there was nothing to be done. I could not even reach the Compound safely. She was cut down, and I was so badly wounded that I fell beside her.

"When I woke up, I was here, and bound in this manner," he quietly motions to the collar around his neck before pulling a sword from under his robes. "It will give me away, but it will get you out. He keeps me around because I know the country, and the people, better than he does. He won't waste me."

"Come with me," she says quickly, weighing the sword in her hands.

"I cannot."

"Then forgive me." She leaps forward and hits him square on the temple with the pommel of the sword, hard enough to knock him out but not to kill him. She casts a glance back at Millerna momentarily, but knows she won't manage to escape with the kidnapped queen in tow as well, and so she uses the sword to break the shackles from her ankles before she makes her way out of the cellar compartment warily, mindful of the chains still attached to her wrists.

*

"Your majesty!" one of the Norte military advisors crows as he comes barreling towards King Ouran's chambers later that day.

"What is all the racket about? And where is Aden? I sent him to question the queen hours ago."

"The Kathis woman… she has escaped from the cell. Aden has been wounded."

Glowering, Daeluzito punches the advisor, and the man falls to the ground. "Is he being cared for?"

"The healers are looking… after him… as we speak, your majesty."

"If he dies, so will the healers, and you."

"Highness… what about the Kathis…"

"She is of little concern. Let her scamper back to the Council and the whore that gave me a son. They are powerless since I have the queen."

***

"Princess Eries," Celena says as she brushes the woman's hair out.

"Yes, Celena?" she replies, eyes closed and head bowed slightly. The day had been a tiring round of meetings and conferences. Correspondence was returning from the other countries.

Most of the answers were in the affirmative.

"Why is it that you never became queen of Asturia?"

The question catches the princess off guard. The relationship between she and the younger sister of the country's champion was tenuous at best, and she hadn't thought it would ever progress to such a level of confidence.

"Why do you ask?" she replies softly.

"Because it is something that no one seems to quite understand, Princess. You're the older sister, and on top of that, you seem to have the best head for managing the country…"

Eries' expression turns cold and she says, "That is enough for now. Please leave me."

Celena lowers the brush and bows her head momentarily, setting it down before heading out of the room, unsurprised to see that her brother is waiting quietly outside. He enters as she leaves, and the guards stand at attention at the door as Celena heads down the hallway.

"I take it you are decent, Princess?" Allen says, pausing near the doorway.

"Yes, enter, I've been expecting you," Eries says after a long moment of pause. She and Allen have indeed become close, and though there is a mutual interest between them, she hesitates to move forward. The senior knight has been in a relationship with two of the Aston sisters already, and she is not sure if it would be appropriate for her to consider such a relationship with him because of it. Especially considering the circumstances.

The one of them that he should have been attentive to he had ignored for too long.

And then there was the reason she hadn't become queen in the first place. Idly, a hand strays to her stomach as she sits erect in the chair at her dressing mirror. "Has word come from Fanelia yet?"

"No," Allen replies, gazing at her intently. He can not understand what her reticence around him suddenly is. She had, before, been smiling at him and glad when he'd come in to make his reports, or accompanied her for walks through the palace gardens, but lately… "Something is troubling you, Princess," he says, a frown on his face.

"Old things," she says, voice absent, as she stands, long platinum hair falling down around her, loose since she sent Celena away before she could finish pinning it back. Part of the problem had come with Leon's disappearance. When his father had gone absent, and his sister kidnapped, his mother had fallen out of favor and when she had passed away he had fallen off the map for a while.

When he had returned and become a Knight Caeli, the natural assumption had been that he would take his place where he had been situated at birth. But apparently in the turmoil of his younger years, Allen had never been informed of his betrothal.

And things had gone downhill from there.

Grava had no choice, once Marlene went to Freid, than to set his hopes on Millerna for the crown. He could not, through honor, break the earlier betrothal. Leon had, afterall, been a friend to the crown and despite his son's general behavior and lack of knowledge, his presence was tolerated for a reason.

Because of being so easily brushed aside by tradition and the duties of respect, Eries had become what the castle staff called the ice princess. She was aware of Allen's relationship with both her older and later her younger sister, and hadn't the ability to swallow her pride and break with him about it.

So the only relationship that existed between them for many years was one of disapproval and distrust.

That had all started to change when Allen had broken from Millerna in a gentle and protective way, and during the war when he had let go of Hitomi.

On Allen's part, Eries had begun to confuse him once he began to pay attention to her more. When he had found her at his mother's grave… it had shaken him.

But he still remains clueless as to why.

"Old things that seem to have your attention more than the matters at hand." Allen steps a little closer to her, "And there's something you haven't ever told me, isn't there?"

"Allen, I am leaving the room."

"Not until you tell me what it is that makes you so distant all of the sudden."

"The same thing that's always made me distant," Eries replies, brushing past him. "Something it's never been my duty to inform you."

Turning on his heel, Allen catches her wrist and pulls her back to face him in a gentle but firm manner. "Whose duty was it, then? The King's? He hasn't ever truly lived up to his duties in certain departments. I do not think he would've thought to tell me whatever it is you think I should've been informed of."

"He would not have," Eries replies, narrowing her eyes, "because after your mother passed on, when you returned to Palas you were far too involved with Marlene to take it seriously."

What hurt the most was that Marlene had been aware of his prior attachment when she had gone after him. But in a way, Eries could sympathize with her sister. Being betrothed to someone and sent away to marry them would scare even her. When Eries had come of age, she had been informed that she was betrothed to someone, and had felt the same way.

*

Marlene stood facing off with her slightly younger sister, and saw the hurt on the quiet young woman's face, it wrenched at her heart to be doing this to her sister, whom she had always been so fond of spending time with, and felt close to when growing up. But the news that she had been betrothed to the Duke of Freid had come as such a blow that she could do nothing more than collapse.

And Allen had been there, solicitous and helpful to her.

"Eri," she started to say, "I am sorry… please, you must understand… I cannot know if I will ever be happy with Mahad. You have to allow me this one chance."

"I," there was a waiver to the quiet princess's voice for a moment before she collected herself, and leveled her harsh blue gaze at her sister. "I can allow nothing you have not already taken from me." And then she turned her back on her sister.

It was the kindest thing she could do for Marlene, beautiful and scared, like a caged bird. Like their mother. She was grasping at straws, and her dignity was one of the few things that she had left. Eries meant to leave her with it intact, but as she started out the room, her sister spoke up.

"You will not understand… and you will not forgive, will you?" Marlene asked, and her troubled voice lacked the composure of her sister's. "Why can you not?"

Stopping, Eries lowered her eyes to the carpet. "There is nothing… it is not my place to forgive," she said finally, voice clear and bright. She knew her sister to be crying, and did not dare turn, for fear that the older young woman would see her tears. "You are an adult, Marlene, and what choices you have made bear the weight of your knowledge and your responsibility. Take what you like, it is your right."

"You are just like him!" came the sobbed shout, and then there was the noise of a heavy statuette being shoved off one of the marble-topped tables in the room. "And I hate you as I hate him!"

Straightening her shoulders, Eries had stepped from the room, and started down the hallway, lifting one hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. Allen walked past her, for once, slower than normal, but when he made to ask after her state, pausing formally to address her, she said, "Tend to my sister if you would help me," and took off at a very undignified run down the hallway.

It was shortly after that Marlene left for Freid. Millerna was too young to understand more than that her sisters were not speaking, and one was leaving. She was enticed by the view of Marlene and Allen as they ascended the gangplank to notice that her sister, waiting in the carriage, wore a black veil over her face. And too young to care.

*

But because of her normally reserved nature, she had done nothing as rash as her sister. She had not gone after Millerna's betrothed. It was almost scary to think of Dryden, at that time, as her younger sister's future husband.

He was the same age as she was, and while his father was well connected and rich, he was alarmingly free of inhibitions. And rather ruthless in his pursuit of them. He put little thought into his future position as a prince and potentially a king.

And it was because of that train of behavior that Meiden and Grava had sent him on his travels. Once he returned his eyes were only for Millerna, thankfully, and he left the stoic middle princess to her own grave thoughts.

Allen is affronted. He lets go of her wrist and narrows his eyes at her. "Princess, I think you are over stepping your bounds by speaking of your deceased sister in such a manner. You don't know what-"

"Neither do you, Allen," she says softly, interrupting him and heading over to the door of her chamber. "It does not matter."

***

Working around the house is easy enough for Van, but it is rather boring as well. He needs to find a way to get back to Gaea, and figure out what had suddenly brought him to Earth.

The only thing he can think of doing is returning to the place where he and Hitomi had first traveled from Earth to his planet at, and it is confusing to try and find, since he doesn't know his way around, but eventually, after several days of hunting, he finds it.

It is a long walk up the steps to the temple, but a pleasant one as the sun is setting. The wooden gateways have been repaired, and repainted since the dragon had broken them almost seven years ago, and the flagstone has been refitted into its walkways.

The air around him feels much more like home the higher he climbs, and so when he reaches the familiar clearing, he continues up the steps on the mountain until he passes the temple buildings and comes to a level clearing where the sky was clearly visible as the stars began to twinkle into view with the sun setting properly.

There is a quiet breeze as he takes the necklace from around his neck and holds the pendant out. The pink stone, looking much like an energist in its glow in the moonlight, seems to pulse as he held it, and then it stops swinging, feeling completely still.

"Hitomi," he says quietly, closing his eyes and concentrating. "Gaea."

The pendant swings in a wide circle, and a brilliant flash of light descended from overhead, sweeping him up into the dimensional gap.

***

The main village of the Draconians is sparser than Tristan had imagined, but it is also much more comfortable. The tent he and Arik are staying in is much more permanent than the one in the hunting camp, and for the first time, Tristan gets to see what the Draconian women look like.

It is evening and he is helping to wash some of the evening's food with the women when they all lower their food into the bowls and head out of the tent. Curious, Tristan gets to his feet, the worn in boots making little noise on the covered ground as he follows the two elder women out into the center of the tent city.

The other members of the small tribe are already assembled, standing tall and proud with their glowing white wings borne proudly behind them. Or at least, almost all of the members of the gathering crowd. Across the circle he can make out Haruth, and standing just in front of the tallest of the tribe is Arik, who looks more like his daughter now that she is dressed like the other Draconians, wearing loose robes against the heat, and a pair of sturdy sandals.

Except that she keeps her wings hidden. And the back of her loose gown is closed so that her back is not exposed naked to sight. Tristan starts to step across the circle to join his Kathis and her father, but a strong hand, one of the warrior's, falls on his shoulder and holds him back gently.

Words are spoken by Haruth in the fluid language that Tristan still can make very little sense of, and then Arik and the rest of the tribe murmur their response, and she steps out of her sandals and into the circle.

Tristan is confused, for a moment, until the other young women in the tribe step forward as well, empty hands outstretched to the sky, feet bear to the dirt in the middle of the group. And then, after a moment, from every throat in the circle except his own, Tristan hears the singing.

The women, barefoot and with empty hands, rustle their wings and make slow movements in their robes, revealing, in the setting sunlight, their jewelry, silver bands around their wrists and ankles with the occasional band around an upper arm, all with inlaid pink stones.

Blinking, Tristan takes a closer look at the stones as one of the women moves past him. 'Energists? Why would they wear those in jewelry?' he thinks to himself, puzzled. He doesn't know much about Draconians, despite being of a people that inhabited the space they traveled through to originally get to Gaea, and hasn't ever been exposed to the idea of wearing a dragon's heart stone as jewelry before.

The singing rises in pitch slightly, and the cadence of the slow moving dance is taken up by a gentle stomping of the men's feet. But Tristan gets lost from the scene before him, feeling a shift in the Gap.

Excusing himself and threading through the crowd, he moves towards the edge of the camp, and stares out over the edge of the rocky cliff.

After a long moment of silence, he closes his eyes and concentrates on his homeland, the regular attunement of his body returning to show him what he's looking for. He can see the temple, or at least what is left of it after the battle that took place there. And the docks where the workmen's ships still sit, waiting to be called while still toiling away at the labors they had been put to by the invaders.

"What's wrong?" Arik asks quietly, having removed herself from the dance after noticing him missing. She is careful in her approach, and quiet, so that she doesn't startle him right off of the cliff.

"Someone's entered the Gap…"

A frown mars Arik's face. "Can you tell where?"

"I'm looking…" Tristan replies, bowing his head forward slightly, dark brown hair obscuring his face from view. In the clothing he has been given by the Draconians, he looks much different, to Arik, than the well-kept Priest she has grown to care for. 'He needs a haircut,' she thinks to herself, gray eyes watching him carefully for any sign of fatigue as he continues to search for the traveler with his mind.

The sun sinks below the horizon, and night starts to creep its way across the continent, but the two people at the edge of the evening's festivities make no movement. Finally, Tristan tilts his head backwards, shaking it and taking a lurching step forward, dangerously close to the edge and the drop down to the desert below.

Moving quickly, Arik grabs him by the back of his borrowed clothing and drags him from the edge, latching her strong arms securely around his waist.

"He's in the temple… and he has wings just like…" Tristan pants, clutching at his head as though in some sort of pain from something, "it's… Van…"

Arik quietly hushes him, pressing her cheek to the back of his neck. "We'll save him. The Temple's mostly abandoned anyway… the wards on it make them… uncomfortable to be there. You know that," she says in a soft soothing voice.