Chapter IV

The Day of Planting

-

-

Hitomi was hopelessly lost. Each street of Fanelia seemed to look the same as any other to her eyes. She stepped under a shop awning and straightened her dress for the sixth time that hour, unused to her wide Fanelian skirt. It was the Day of Planting, and everyone was out, strolling among shops and booths or heading to the planting ceremony. Hitomi was supposed to meet Merle there in fifteen minutes, but she hadn't even seen a glimpse of the shrine. Yesterday's tour through the city was a whirlwind, and Merle's fast train of directions this morning was now completely forgotten. There must be a map around somewhere, Hitomi mumbled under her breath.

"Would you like an escort this evening?"

She hastily looked up, embarrassed to be caught grumbling to herself. A stern, tall man with watchful gray eyes stood in front of her. "Oh, no, thank you, I couldn't trouble you."

"Heading to the planting ceremony?"

She nodded.

"Well then, would you keep an old man company?"

As they weaved through the crowded streets, people seemed to steer a wide berth. Hitomi found the phenomenon useful as she followed him a shoulder's length behind. He was built and tanned like the Fanelians, and walked with purpose and command. His lacquered armor with its crest at the chest shimmered with the sheen of past campaigns and long years of service. Perhaps a general, or a chief vassal. Yet contrary to the common fashion, he had gathered his graying hair into a short low ponytail.

And then there was his conduct. Most likely, he had not asked her name because he already knew. That made Hitomi uneasy about past rumors and what Van had told his staff of her intruded stay in Fanelia, and she tried to keep her head high and to not think about what this man might have heard of her.

They left the city proper and continued their loop toward the back of the castle, and the streets became a series of well-trodden dirt roads, wide and shaded, set into each hill bank curve. Everyone was now traveling in the same direction, toward a humming noise that grew with each step and promised an exciting evening. After a particular bend, Hitomi saw the entrance to the shrine, or rather, the festival. Underneath the canopy of boughs and lanterns, the endless train of people brushed against each other along long rows of stalls, like a stream with a series of eddies and shallows. Wood smoke and food aromas were layered on top of the smell of people, the smell of exhilaration.

"The planting ceremony should just be starting, and Merle is probably at its front," the man said.

Hitomi hesitated in the road. Why, she wasn't sure. Certainly, she wasn't afraid of crowds—she had endured many train rides to Shibuya during rush hour to meet Yukari for their cake visits. He was already a few paces in front, and she hurried to catch up. This time, she followed his broad back through the crowd, and twice almost clutched his light cloak to avoid being swept in another direction. There were many elderly farmers with toughened hands who pushed steadily ahead with a quiet reverence, and foreigners in rich brocades and travelers in patched cloaks who cast curious glances everywhere about them, but most of the people were families from the city and the countryside, here to enjoy a holiday together.

When they arrived at the paved plaza in front of the shrine, Hitomi realized why she paused earlier. There was Merle—she waved enthusiastically as she struggled to cross over from the other side of the gathering—and there was Van. He was in the middle of the clearing, standing next to the priest and the shrine attendants—and looking at Hitomi as if she had risen out of the sea.

Then the stranger nodded, and Van turned back to the priest.

That made her wonder at the identity of the man beside her. Perhaps Van was merely staring at her companion. But Merle arrived at her elbow and the ceremony was starting, and her attention was pulled away from wandering thoughts.

The priest, an old man in white robes and a resplendent, billowy cloak of blue and gold, spoke in a resonant voice, "On this day, Year of the Crystal East, White, 15th Moon, we hereby ask your blessing on this Day of Planting. May our fields be laden with gold from your gift of rain and our storehouses be filled from your body earth. May our young grow up strong in your image and our old lay to rest in your peace. May our king lead our beloved Fanelia to prosperity with your voice and deliver justice with your wisdom. This we ask, on this Day of Planting."

Then he started to chant:

Escaflowne...
As Gaea was born, he that was born also;
His anger causes the earth to tremble, calling forth storms from the heavens.

Escaflowne...
As Gaea was born, he that was born also;
Causes tears in the minds of men, the pure-hearted white dragon.

Hitomi was torn between amusement and disbelief. To think that Fanelia worshipped and prayed to Escaflowne, the guymelef, was impossible. Maybe it was named in memory of the deity. That was more likely. She whispered her question to Merle.

"Yeah, Escaflowne was a dragon many, many years ago," Merle whispered back, "and he was friends with the first king of Fanelia. The king had named his guymelef after the dragon when the dragon died, I think. Or did Escaflowne turn into the guymelef?" She frowned. "Anyway, there's a whole legend, and Van-sama knows it better. We can ask him later." She shrugged and turned back to watch.

The shrine attendants, in white robes underneath orange and gold cloaks, had stood by on one side with wooden bowls, one filled with husked grains, one with water. The priest now turned to Van as Van held up a golden platter. The priest took a sapling nestled among the grain, placed it on the platter, then dipped both hands into the other bowl, and flicked drops of water from his fingertips.

Van raised the platter above his head in acknowledgment. He held it in front solemnly as he crossed the plaza, followed by the priest and the attendants, still holding their bowls, then vassals in their ceremonial armor, and then the crowd in a less tidy line. Her companion led Hitomi and Merle to the head of the line, right in front of a man with green armor, who nodded at the stranger, then gaped at the women in tow. As the procession led deeper into the wooded hills, the men sang in low, somber voices that lingered on each sound, almost like another chant: Escaflowne... Escaflowne... Escaflowne…

After a few moments of walking and singing, they all clustered around Van at the base of an ancient, magnificent tree. Its roots had long split the earth, and branches trailed long drooping streams of lichen. The tree seemed to harbor a multitude of other lives that called its shelter home. The lowest boughs were eight meters above their heads, and tips of the highest branches disappeared into a dark, leafy sky. Around its wide girth was tied a white cloth. The men sang softly now, their timbre like whispers of wind and spoke of echoes in the earth. Van kneeled, and scooped the ground with his bare hands to form a shallow hole. He placed the sapling inside and patted the soil back around it. When Van stood up, the singing faded into the stillness of the woods.

It was now the end of dusk, and people lit small lanterns and white candles, and started to walk back in silence. As Van washed his hands in the water bowl, Hitomi realized the stranger was no longer beside her, but next to Van, in quiet conversation with him. And the man in green armor was there, along with other vassals and staff. Merle amused herself with people-watching, but Hitomi was uncomfortable and self-conscious as they waited for Van. The chain of attention and talks started, first from green armor to brown armor, then to brown's group, then dispersed in all directions among the staff. If it had been a different situation, she would have looked on with humor, and laughed about it with Yukari later, but this was a land she had never belonged to and perhaps was no longer welcomed in. Surrounded by whispers and curious eyes, with only Van and Merle and maybe the stranger as the only familiar faces, Earth and home were very distant indeed.

And then she saw that Van had unhooked his formal coat—underneath stiff indigo and threads of gold was the usual red shirt—and she laughed. That was so distinctively Van, to pair a commoner shirt with his fine deerskin boots. Fanelia was simple compared to its neighbors, but ranks and classes were still divided and distinguished by dress, and on this important holiday, vassals were in full ceremonial armor with insignias and marks of their house, and learned men the tasseled formal robes of their professions.

The laugh made Hitomi feel bolder, and she started to return their looks with smiles. It didn't really matter who they thought she was. She knew who she was, and Van and Merle knew who she was, and that was enough. The men soon retracted their glances, and each tried to take up an occupation of talking intimately with a companion or walking to the next destination.

Merle asked why she was grinning into space like a knucklehead. Hitomi shook her head and laughed again.

The stranger now walked over with Van, and addressed Hitomi, "I hope you enjoyed tonight so far. The Day of Planting is one of our traditional holidays."

"Yes," she said, "and thank you for earlier. I wouldn't have made it here without your help."

He turned to Van, "Van-sama, I think you should escort them to the festival."

Merle jumped and clapped her hands together in excitement. "It's been so long since we've properly went."

After some silence, Van gave Merle a slight smile and started on the return path, "Let's go, then."

-

As Hitomi and Merle hadn't eaten anything since a late breakfast, their first stop was supper. Van led them through the crowd, casting glances to his left and right, searching for something. Hitomi was surprised when he stopped in front of their destination. It was a small stall, and the sign in front had been chipped and painted over, and stated simply: "stew".

The proprietor and his wife looked up from the large pot and greeted Van enthusiastically. Van sat down at the long wooden table. "Four bowls, Chin. And bread."

The stew was hearty with potatoes, sweet with carrots, spicy with herbs. It settled in Hitomi's stomach like a warm quilt, and the contentment spread to her toes. The bread had a fragrant, crackling crust and an airy, creamy interior. Hitomi had never eaten anything like it. Bread in Japan was soft and buttery, and often had a savory topping or a sweet filling. This bread was just bread, but as she followed in Merle's example, eating some plain and dipping other pieces into the stew, she felt that just bread was fantastic bread, indeed.

While they ate, Chin chatted with Van. His sons were grown and moved into their own houses in the same valley, and produced the finest lamb anywhere, and his daughter was now married to a tailor on the main street.

The stranger had followed them, and now sat on Hitomi's left, passing her honey and butter for her bread. It seemed wrong to be offered food like this from a man with no name. He was clearly someone close to Van and in a position of great influence, for Van placed his suggestion above his own tendency to retreat from crowds. But the whole affair was peculiar. She paused her spoon and voiced the first question that popped up. "How did you know I was meeting Merle here?"

"I thought perhaps Van-sama had explained," he blinked, then chuckled. The humor softened his eyes. "But, of course not. I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. I'm Leal Masaou, one of the four chief vassals, commander of the north. Fanelia castle is also under my region, so as a guest of the castle, I bound to you my charge and protection."

"Ah, so I should thank you for letting me stay."

Leal smiled. "You are Van-sama's guest."

A guard in gray armor stepped in front of the stall and bowed, "Van-sama, there's an urgent message for you. He carries the red card."

Van nodded and waved at him to come in.

Another man appeared at the guard's side. He must have ridden a long distance in haste; his whiskers were unshaven, dark shadows of fatigue were around his eyes, and his cloak was travelstained. But his armor was brightly polished, and he carried a flat enameled block in his hands, red with a white crest on one end.

Without any other greeting, the messenger bowed and presented the block in both hands. As he received it, Van withdrew a thin dagger from his side, and broke the white wax seal. The block was actually hollow, and Van reached in and pulled out a sealed letter. This he read with an impassive face. At the letter's end, Hitomi thought he glanced in her direction, but it may have been another look to Leal.

Van lifted a corner of the letter over the table lantern, and held the paper aflame in his gloved hands as it turned to ashes. He handed the red carrier back to the messenger, then spoke deliberately, "Last year's crops are not good enough. Make haste on the current harvest. And I must have more data on the crows." The messenger bowed, and departed into the crowd.

Code, obviously, but Hitomi didn't know what it meant. She looked sidelong at Leal, but the man was cutting more bread. He offered her another slice.

The proprietor looked worried. "Van-sama, will there be problems with this year's crops?"

"No," Van replied, "it will be just fine." He lifted his bowl. "Another for me, please."

Although his expression looked the same as ever, Hitomi noticed that he ate more slowly. But whatever the contents of the letter and the meaning of Van's reply, the dinner seemed to abate his defenses, and when Merle asked him to tell the story of Escaflowne, he readily complied.

Chin's wife had produced tall mugs of ale from the next stall over, and the old couple sat at the table, too, now that dinnertime had passed and sales were winding down. Van took a gulp from his before he began:

"Fanelia was formed ten thousand years ago by King Zoah. Before then, there were only clusters of villages. Although they were of common kinship, tribes often contested against each other over rights of game and water, and also suffered attacks from outside forces. Zoah was from a hunter-farmer's family on the borders of Tyrrhenia, the country to the west, and he saw the need for Fanelia to cease bloodshed among its people and stand firm against its neighbors. So he left his village, and journeyed all over Fanelia to find a solution.

"When he was in the north forests, he dreamt of a white dragon with eyes of deep blue. And it was said that when he woke, the dragon was standing over him. It said its name was Escaflowne, and it had been waiting for Zoah for many days. 'Dark warrior, your purpose is noble and the chance is soon upon you, but I wish to make a final test to see that your heart is true.'"

Merle made a noise into her mug. Hitomi smiled as she saw her tail twitch. Merle must be thinking, "Who agrees to take a test from a talking dragon?" But the story was too serious to raise funny questions.

Van had paused to look at Merle, and now continued. "Escaflowne asked Zoah to slay the serpent in the forest, a terrible creature that haunted the shadows and drank his fill from blood. If Zoah brought the head of the beast, Escaflowne would assist him in his task.

"It took Zoah weeks to track down the devious serpent, and nearly lost his life in the furious battle. But at last he triumphed when the beast was careless in its gloating, and he brought back its severed head.

"Escaflowne then pledged its life to Zoah, and they went on to establish the realm of Fanelia. When Zoah finally took the throne as king ten years later, surrounding countries sent gifts of gold and spices, and curious playthings and silk. But the king of Tyrrhenia sent his only daughter. On the day of the wedding, it was said that Escaflowne flew over Fanelia castle in seven circles, and then disappeared into the sacred forest. No one ever saw the white dragon again, but when King Zoah drew his last breath, they heard a cry settle over the city, like that of a dragon in greeting."

"So Escaflowne was named after the dragon?" Hitomi asked.

Van nodded. "It was the dowry from Tyrrhenia."

"They gave an Ispano guymelef as dowry?" From how King Aston and his advisors had treated Escaflowne, and how Cesario and other countries looked toward Van for his participation in the war, not to mention Dornkirk's obsession with its possession, she had thought it was rare and extraordinary.

"Tyrrhenia was in its golden age, and had several guymelefs of Ispano make. But since then it had fallen into decline and ruin, and each successive generation decreased in its influence. The last great king was a thousand years ago, who attempted to reunite the kingdom, but he was forced to death by treason. Since then, Tyrrhenia has not been ruled by a true king, to my knowledge."

The tale done, and their stomachs and thirst filled, they took leave of Chin and his wife. The old couple protested when Van drew a purse from his pocket, saying that he always insisted on paying them every year, and this year it should be their treat for Van-sama. Van only smiled and pressed the golden coin into Chin's palm, and turned away before the old man's hands started to shake from gratitude.

Merle ran enthusiastically to each stand with games. Hitomi felt a little awkward towering over the children, but Merle seemed so happy that she couldn't help feeling excited, too. One had little sacks of grain that they tossed into concentric rings (Hitomi won a tiny wooden cat while Merle got a cow and looked at hers wistfully). One had a chalked circle full of colored marbles, and they had to hit the red ones out but avoid the blue ones (they both did badly). One had a prize of tadpoles if they could identify the frogs and toads from their croaks (Merle got them all right but gave the tadpoles to a little boy looking on with awe). An old man with scarred hands made delicate pulled-sugar candies, two gidarus each. Van paid for everything.

It was now approaching midnight, but today was a holiday, and many children still ran about on the grounds, and young couples were allowed to stroll together unchaperoned. Hitomi and Merle, however, had risen early to work on Merle's new project, and though they tried to stifle their yawns, Van saw through their act and insisted they return to the castle. Leal had departed an hour earlier when one of his staff came to fetch him. As they passed by the front of the shrine grounds, Hitomi saw that a bonfire had been erected, and many young men and women with bells on their wrists were dancing to a reed flute and a lap harp.

The streets were chilly compared to the heat of the crowds and energist lanterns. There were still a few scattered stalls on the main roads, and warm light and music spilled from tavern windows. As they walked down a lonely sidestreet, Hitomi's attention was drawn to an odd motion in the shadows. A scruffy gray cat limped slightly, and held its left forepaw with care. A thorn stuck in the soft underpad of the foot, perhaps, or maybe a broken toe. Hitomi bent down and approached the cat slowly, to decrease the appearance of threat. She talked softly in a low voice, and the cat allowed her to get close, although it still watched her warily with yellow eyes.

Just when she closed her hands around the cat's weight, she heard something large approaching fast behind them, and she tried to turn around.

"Hitomi!"

She felt being drawn back forcibly—and found herself in Van's arms. Pressed against his coat, she heard Van shout commands to the guards at the closest post. She registered the chaos around them—a runaway horse startled from a sudden noise, the farmer who had turned his back for a second, whistles from the guards to warn the end of the street—but she could only breathe in Van's smell and look at the laces of his shirt, noting that he always crossed right over left, and that he tied a slightly lopsided knot.

Hitomi had forgotten about the cat until it asserted itself, frightened from the commotion and unaccustomed to being handled in this fashion. It struggled to free itself between them. Surprised, Van loosened his hold on Hitomi, and the cat leapt over Van's shoulder, then disappeared into an alleyway. They both stared after its departure. When Van returned his attention, he seemed shocked to find Hitomi so close, and immediately dropped his arms and stepped backward.

"Van, you're hurt." Feeling guilty to involve him, she took her handkerchief from a pocket and reached out. The cat had torn his shirt, and there were three long scratches on his sternum.

He took another step back. "I can take care of it." His voice was rough and distant.

He started to turn away, but paused and took off his coat. He draped it over her shoulders, then walked down the dark street without another look back.

Merle looked divided between following Van and staying with Hitomi, but then she saw Hitomi's front. "You're bleeding, Hitomi!" The cat had also ripped her dress in its desperation, and little crimson patches flowered on the bed of white. Her bra peeked through a particularly long rip, and Hitomi was both embarrassed and grateful for Van's coat as she hooked it up to her throat.

The walk back to the castle wasn't long, since Merle led her through the correct streets, but Hitomi felt that everyone around stared at her. She patted her face, but there wasn't any blood or scratches, or anything else immediately wrong that suggested their attention. There was no chief vassal escorting her this time. Surely, a couple of girls in common Fanelian dress should be of no great attraction, even if it was a late hour.

It wasn't until she returned to her room that she understood why they were staring. Her reflection in the mirror was pale, and her white dress hem was sullied from dusty roads, but more striking than anything else was Van's coat. It had a simple cut, slightly austere with its standing collar, but the golden embroidery at cuffs and throat was heightened by the dark wool, and a jeweled brass crest of a flying dragon on a field of crimson was pinned to its left breast.

Anyone could see that it belonged to the king of Fanelia.

-

-

-

Thank you for reading ch4! Whew, this was a long ch ;P It makes me happy that you guys are still following the story, even though I'm a very slow writer.

As to Zoah and Escaflowne, I'm not completely pulling the story out of air, but I did take great liberties with existing information .. On Escaflowne Compendium, it is mentioned that Fanelia has flying dragon worship, and after I read the lyrics for "The Vision of Escaflowne" from Yoko Kanno Project, I decided to expand on the ideas to give my own version of what Escaflowne means in Fanelian culture and history. (Although, I've listened that particular track many times, and I couldn't find where the lyrics come in ; ; Is it just me? If someone knows, please tell me.)

-

Favorite story #3
Because I don't know what love is
By Dariel

Sweet, exciting, with tension throughout, this is the first fanfiction that moved me out from anonymity to contact the author by comments and emails. (Horrible of me, I know, to not submit reviews before then. But then we all make mistakes when we are young, eh?)

After reading Dariel's stories and seeing her put so much heart into writing a story that isn't in her native language, I began to feel guilty that I've written nothing for my favorite series. And so I wrote the first drafts of The Dragon Cannot Cross the Line, but I was still too scared to post it on ff.

School became busy. I dropped my reading on ff for a couple of years, and then this year picked it up again, and found that Dariel had since published some more stories (Angel of Mine is another good read, and she says she has all the notes but just too busy at the moment to finish). Then I met two other authors on ff, and they encouraged me so much by their examples that I dusted off The Dragon and started on DS.

Here's to you, Dariel!
/toast

-

sharlee
September 2006