Title: All For Love

Chapter: Thirteen

Author: Tevrah

Chapter Thirteen

It was finally time. Time for him to rise up and become the ruler that he was always meant to be. His dream was coming to bear fruit and soon everything he was due would be his.

Allen stroked his hand on the smooth metal of the guymelef as one would the skin of a lover, lovingly, gentle. He looked at the monster and thought back to all of the myths and legends that he had heard of as a child, and knew that he would make everyone see that the myth was reality and the legend was true. He would finish what the gods had started, and in doing so would become a god himself.

"Sheherazade."

He breathed the name in reverence and smiled a cruel smile. This was his time. This is what he had been born for. This was his destiny.

And now no one could stop him.

(000)

Van felt like his chest was going to explode from the intense beat of his heart. The hair was the same, haphazard like his own. The eyes were the same color, though more intense, and the face was exactly as he remembered it from his childhood. He said the first thing that came to his mind.

"You're dead."

Folken's smile widened just a bit. "That's the common theory."

"Are you another spirit guide?" Van demanded. He had to force himself to take a deep breath so that he could talk.

At his question Folken let out a small chuckle. "Hardly."

Van felt himself begin to settle and was becoming angry with the chopped answers he was getting. Dammit, he wanted to know what was going on. Now.

He tightened his hands on the hilt of his sword. "You will tell me who you are. My brother's dead, and if you don't answer me, I will run you through." He fairly growled it.

"You haven't changed a bit, have you, Vannie boy? You still bark, and I hear you bite pretty good as well." The smile covered his entire face now.

Van had to swallow over the lump in his throat before he could attempt to speak again. "My brother is dead," he repeated again. "Whoever you are, and whatever game you're playing isn't going to convince me otherwise. Now you have three seconds to explain who you are and what you're doing here before you die."

The smile turned thoughtful as the man considered his words. He stared at Van with an intensity that made Van tighten his hands around the hilt of his sword again. "I guess I was wrong after all," the man replied softly. "You have changed. I'm sorry for that. I guess I just kept expecting you to be the same curious little brother that I had left behind."

Van's entire body hurt from the unrestrained emotion that was finally seeping out. This was his brother? He was so familiar. But he couldn't be. Folken was dead. Van knew he was. No one but himself had survived the attack on the village. And he had just barely managed to stay alive. His mind was telling him, warning him not to believe this familiar man, but his heart, oh, his heart was screaming at him to lower his sword.

"If you are my brother," Van said slowly, "then you will know how old I was when I got lost in the woods behind our village." It was the only test he could think to give.

The man just stared at him again for a long while, so long that Van's heart began to sink thinking that the man didn't know the answer. Then he spoke.

"You were three," he whispered. "You wanted to go with Father and me to the next village, but mother wanted you to stay home for once. She said you'd have plenty of time to be running all over the village when you were older.

It was beginning to get dark when we left with the barley and wheat in the wagon. Mother was cleaning from supper and thought you had gone to sleep. But you snuck out of the house with a bag of sweets and your small wooden sword. We came back early in the morning, just before dawn. Mother was frantic, had all of the villagers looking for you. Father went to look on the road, thinking that perhaps we had missed you. I went looking through the woods.

I found you not half an hour later, sitting in the middle of the forest screaming loud enough to wake the dead. You had fallen over a root and hurt yourself. Your sweets were scattered on the ground and your knee was bleeding. I bandaged your knee and gave you one of your unsoiled sweets to suck on while we went home. You insisted I carry you on my shoulders.

Mother and Father punished you for a week. You cried again and they took the punishment away as long as you promised never to go off by yourself again."

Van had no choice to lower his sword. No one could have known that. No one except his brother. The sword fell from his hands and landed on the forest floor with a soft 'thud'.

This time when he spoke, it was with the voice of the child he had once been when everything had been taken away from him. "Brother."

Wind blew through the trees once again as neither of them moved. They stood just as they were, still as statues, staring at one another, thinking of how things had been and how things were now. Two brothers who had loved one another fiercely, now afraid to walk ten feet to one another.

But before either one of them could do anything else, Folken's head snapped to the side, in the direction of where the cabin was. "Sora" was the only thing he said before he rushed past Van and took off at a run back to the cabin.

Van stopped only long enough to pick up his sword before he took off running after him. He could feel it now, the disturbance of the forest, the feeling of dread that seemed to slide through the trees and slither on the ground. Smoke began to billow above the trees and Van's stomach clenched. He raced through the clearing to find a heart-stopping scene taking place before him.

Folken was wrestling with Dilandau, but Dilandau had the advantage as he had a sword. Van began to rush to help, but stopped as he noticed the huddled form on the ground. He felt his legs go weak as he recognized Hitomi's form. Her short hair was matted with blood. His mind went blank and he forgot all about his brother in a life-or-death struggle as he ran to her.

He turned her over gently, minding the back of her head. She groaned and he thought it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. "Come on, Hitomi," he whispered, smoothing her hair from her face. "Open your eyes, baby."

Hitomi complied slowly. Her green eyes were dazed and confused but quickly cleared. "Dilandau!" She jerked up, but gasped in pain as her head got dizzy and blackness threatened to consume her again.

"Easy," Van said and cushioned her on the soft, cool grass.

She looked at him, really seeing him for the first time. "Dilandau came and broke through the door. We didn't have any time to get out. Sora tried to stop him from taking me, but he hit her and her head hit the end of the table. She didn't get up. He grabbed me and drug me outside. He started the cabin on fire, and I tried to stop him, but he hit me and I can't remember anything after that."

"It's okay," Van assured her. "Now stay right here. Don't move. I'll be right back."

Without waiting for an answer, he stood up and ran to where Folken and Dilandau were still fighting. Seeing that Folken was still alive, Van made a decision. He ran straight into the burning inferno. The entire cabin was ablaze. The kitchen was gone and so was the bedroom. The smoke obscured everything from view and sucked the oxygen straight from the room.

Van was forced to get on the floor and belly crawl across it. He tried to breathe shallowly, but still had to cough. His eyes were burning and his throat felt like it had caught fire as well. He prayed to Jesu and hoped He was listening that he would be able to find Sora. Soon.

His prayers were answered when he felt his hand touch hair. He followed the hair to Sora's head and felt a wet stickiness. He knew what that was and hoped that it wasn't too late for her. He quickly grabbed her around the middle and threw her over his shoulder. He had to stand up to see if he could find an exit, but everything was covered with smoke and fire. So he took off running the way he came. He made a flying leap out of what used to be the door and landed on the ground outside in a painful heap. His shirt was on fire and Sora's hair was as well. He patted them both out and rolled Sora over to her back. He checked for a pulse and found one. It was small, but it was there.

He heard a clanging over the sound of the roaring fire and looked over to see Dilandau and Folken still going at one another. Thinking to go ahead and end it, Van stood up. But before he could move to them, Dilandau swung the sword in what would have been a killing blow. Folken merely stuck out his arm and caught the sword with his hand.

Dilandau tried to yank the sword free, but Folken held fast. Reaching up with his other hand, he ripped his shirt from his shoulder down. A metal arm gleamed in the moonlight and Van and Dilandau watched in stunned silence as Folken broke the sword in half. Then balling his metal hand, Folken punched Dilandau in the face.

Dilandau fell backwards, but managed to keep on his feet. His nose was bleeding and surely broken, but he didn't utter a cry. Folken hit him again and again, until finally Dilandau was on the ground, bleeding extensively from his face and unconscious.

Folken took a deep shuddering breath before turning to where Van had laid Sora. He started to walk over, but heard a sound behind him. He whirled around to see Dilandau running toward him with a dagger in his hand. Before he could move, a whistling sound cut through the air and Dilandau fell to the ground once again with Van's sword stuck in his chest. He didn't get back up.

Folken ran to where Sora lay and knelt down beside her. He gently lifted her and laid her head in his lap. He listened to her breathe and closed his eyes in relief. Van turned away and was about to walk to where Hitomi was trying to sit up when Folken's hand stopped him by gripping his own. Van looked down at him and found his brother staring up at him with a brightness in his eyes that Van could swear were tears. "Thank you, Van."

Van looked at Sora, then back at Folken. He squeezed his hand. "You're welcome…Folken."

(000)

The last free city on Gaea was hardly what one would expect it to be. Torushina was filthy and home to murders, robbers and other people of the sort. What had once been a prosperous city before the emperor had come was now a low-down pit that was so disgusting even the emperor didn't bother with it.

Dryden remembered the city from when he was a child. It had been a little smaller then, but still beautiful. While Asturia and Fried had been two of the most beautiful and prosperous countries, Torushina had been the starting point for all merchants, so the market place had always been busy and full of new and different things.

It brought back such memories of better times that he had to fight the urge to destroy the filth that lined the streets as he walked past the stations that were selling illegal merchandise to anyone who showed an interest. How could the world have come to this? Was one man really so powerful that he could control everyone and their actions? Dryden shook his head to clear his thoughts so that he could concentrate on his mission.

The Abaharaki had arrived late yesterday and were now scattered across the city limits. He took comfort in knowing that his family would not be involved in this battle. After arriving, the children and women who weren't fighting, left to go to the mountains and take sanctuary there until the war was over. Millerna hadn't cried and neither had Chid. He was so proud of his family.

A rundown building caught his eye and he stopped to study it. Was this it? He walked up to the door and knocked three hard raps. For a long while there was nothing but silence. Then finally a slight shuffle could be heard from the other side of the door. The door was opened a crack. "What do you want?" a voice, scratchy and thin from not being used for a long time, demanded from the shadows of the other side.

Dryden was not discouraged. He stepped closer to the door and tried to make out the face in the shadows. "My name is Dryden. I lead the Abaharaki. I've come to ask for your help."

The voice was silent, then answered in a clearer tone than before. "I've no help to give you. Leave me in peace."

The door started to slam close, but Dryden blocked it with his foot. He pushed the door back open. "You are the only one who can help us. We've worked too hard to get to where we are, to be so close to our freedom to have everything crumble around us. Are you prepared to be responsible for the deaths of every living thing on this planet?"

There was silence again, then a long sigh as the door was opened all the way. Dryden stepped inside cautiously. He'd come for help, yes, but he had no reason to trust the other person.

There was no sunlight coming into the windows and Dryden could see that they had all been boarded up from the inside. A light suddenly flared from the other side of the room and Dryden's attention centered on the person standing by the candle that had just been lit. The man was old and slightly stooped as if his shoulders held the weight of the world on them. His hair was silver from age and a cane was clutched in a wrinkled and unsteady hand. But his eyes, his eyes were the same clear, deep blue as those of his son. As those of Dryden's son.

Dryden's hand curled into a fist as he stared into those eyes. "Leon Shezarde. Once great knight of Asturia."

The old man's expression didn't change. "Once being the key word."

"You once fought to protect all those who lived on Gaea," Dryden said, a little of the fury he always held inside spewing over, "no matter their origin." He stared at the old man and battled back an urge to kill. "Look how you've fallen."

The man said nothing in return, neither denying nor confirming Dryden's opinion. After a moment of silence, Dryden spoke again. "I need to know how to defeat him. He has been working toward this moment all his life. There must be a way," he insisted. "And you are the only person who might know."

The old man still said nothing. Dryden felt his stomach begin to burn. If he couldn't get any information out of the man, then the battle would be a blind one. And a hopeless one.

Dryden looked around at Leon's home, or shack, as was the case. There was only one piece of furniture that was still intact and the rest was either broken or eaten through by wood bugs. There was an old fireplace directly in front of the unbroken chair and it was covered by years worth of layers of ash, soot, and dirt. Cobwebs were in every nook and corner of the room and Dryden saw, with a silent shudder, that rats had taken up residence as well.

A small glare caught his eye and he looked at the cracked mantle of the fireplace. The candle flickered and the flame caused another glare as it hit against a piece of glass that was atop the mantle. Unable to help himself, Dryden walked closer and saw with quite a bit of surprise that the glare had been caused by a painting encased in a glass frame.

The glass, like everything else in the room, was cracked and dirt and grime covered most of it. Dryden reached out and took the picture in his hands. Using his thumb, he removed the grime and the picture became clearer.

The now-emperor of Gaea stared back at him with a boyish smile and sparkling blue eyes. He was dressed in a suit of blue and red, the official colors of the Austurian knights. His hair was down and fell down his back and out of view. His arm was around a small girl who could be no older than six with a full smile and beautiful blue eyes. She had pale blond hair and it was pulled across one shoulder and hung down her chest. Her dress was the same colors as Allen's.

"Her name was Selene," the voice was soft, heartbroken. "She was the light of our lives. My wife died giving birth to her, but we never blamed her. While we were sad, little Selene brought a light to our lives that had truly never been there before. She had such an innocence that everyone couldn't help but love her." The old man suddenly stopped as if the mere mention of an old memory was too much from him to handle. When he finally spoke again, his voice was so low that Dryden had to move a few steps closer just to hear him.

"She loved life like no one I had ever seen before. She could do no wrong and no wrong could be done to her. Allen and I loved her so very much. Allen practically worshiped her. She was his everything, his reason for living. But as every story goes, tragedy soon struck our perfect little world. Selene went missing. For five days we couldn't find her. Then one night someone knocks on our door saying they know where to find her. It seemed that one of the people who took her couldn't hold his liquor. He told anyone who would listen what he and three of his friends had done to her.

The man who came and got us, led us to the tavern and showed us. It was a wolf-man. His fur had once been white as snow, I'm sure, but it was matted and covered in dirt and filth of all kinds. His clothes were ratted and stained, much like his fur, and his eyes were black. Black as night. Black as blood. The wolf-man was drunk, but he wasn't stupid. He knew that we would do whatever it took to find out where Selene was. Even if we had to kill him in the process. He led us straight to the abandoned barn where they had kept her. There was no trace of her body. All we found was her hair. The hair that they scalped from her head." The man turned to stare at Dryden and he felt the punch of the man's grief-stricken eyes straight into his soul. This was a man who had lost everything and would never recover from it. But he continued his story, as if he needed to say it as much as Dryden needed to hear it.

"The wolf-man sought to save his own hide by telling us what they had done to her, playing down his part in it. He said how his friends had brought her to the barn where he was, that he had no idea what had been going on, no idea what his friends were going to do. But her blood was stained on his clothes and fur along with the dirt. They had tortured her for days. They had broken her. They had taken her tiny, fragile body and tore it to pieces. They mutilated her, then burned her body. The ashes from the fire were still on the floor. My baby was scattered on the floor like dirt to be stepped on.

I went insane. First I lost my wife, and now my daughter. There is no way to describe losing a child. Especially losing a child so horribly. I started drinking, picking fights, I lost my title as knight. But that no longer matter to me.

Allen disappeared for months after that, and when he came back, he was different. Started going on about how humans and nothing else should inhabit Gaea. How there was a way to make it happen, and he would find it. I didn't pay attention to him, I was so lost in myself. Then one night a man came to the door wanting to arrest Allen for murder. He had been killing wolf-men. The ones who had killed Selene, and others. So many others. Allen killed that man where he stood. He just ran him through with the sword, then he turned and looked at me where I was, half-drunk but sobering up quick. He said that he would rid the world of those creatures, wolves, cats, all of the inferior species and he would cleanse Gaea once and for all. Then he vanished. And I never saw him again." Leon turned away from Dryden again and faced the boarded up windows. "I moved here, and haven't left this place since."

Dryden looked at the picture again and felt a slight tug in his heart when he saw the happy, innocent girl smiling back at him. To have done something so heinous to such a beautiful little girl was truly unforgivable. But it didn't mean that all creatures were bad. Humans could have done something just as horrible given the chance.

"I have a son," Dryden began. "I would do anything for him. I would lie, steal, cheat and die for my son. Whatever it took to keep him safe, to keep him alive, I would do it. No matter the cost. I can understand--I do understand--the reasons for protecting a child, for protecting your child. But there are many more sons and daughters who have died and who will die if you do not help us now."

Leon was silent for a moment, then answered. "You can take the picture, but that is all the help I can give you."

Dryden closed his eyes. Leon wasn't going to help them. Seeing that, Dryden gripped the picture and moved toward the door when Leon's reedy voice stopped him.

"I said you could take the picture, not the frame."

Dryden stopped as that comment sunk in. Then, quickly, he slipped the picture from the broken frame and flipped it over. The words on the back of the picture struck him like a blow.

To My Dearest Selene:

I shall avenge your death by ridding Gaea of the impure creatures that plague her. I will see to it that no other human children shall die because of this plague. The gods will deliver us. I promise.

All My Love,

Your Brother, Allen

And attached at the end of the small note was a small rolled-up parchment that was labeled Purity. Dryden unrolled it and felt his heart skip for a small moment, before it began to speed up. He lifted his eyes to look at Leon's back. "Thank you."

Without turning, Leon replied. "I had a son once. I would have walked through hell and back for him. But my son died when we buried my daughter."

With that, Dryden walked to the door and stepped back out into the sunlight.

To Be Continued…

A/N: Yeah, I know it's sort of weird having the author's note at the end of the story, but I just felt like doing it this way. I'm really sorry that it's taken me so long to get back into writing, but I had the longest writer's block! No matter what I did, I just couldn't get over it.

Anyway, I just wanted to mention a few things. First off, kudos to anyone who reread the last chapter and caught the reference to that note on the back of the picture where Allen wrote that the gods would deliver them.

Also, I would like to send a special thank you out to Inda. Thanks so much for all of your inquiries! It really made me want to get into writing again so badly! So thank you, thank you, thank you!

I hope you guys enjoyed the new chapter! Bye for now!

TevrahJ