Severed

by Eboni

When a premature separation experiment leaves Dilandau weak and disoriented, his Dragonslayers must protect him from himself and unexpected enemies from within the country they are sworn to protect. Warning: Shounen ai

4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thank you for the new reviews :). I save them all to a special folder, and read them when I get discouraged lol. Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Chapter 3

"Get up, and do it again!" the tall man with the thick red beard yelled, Master Kraus.

The small silver haired boy stood slowly, forcing his knees not to knock together. He was tired, hungry, and dizzy. His head was still spinning from the time it had struck the stone wall, and his vision had gone dim. "Stand ready Dilandau! What if this was a real attack? What if someone really had you alone? You would be dead right now!" The large man charged him again, and Dilandau did his best to avoid being hit, he ducked between the man's legs, and gave a push from behind sending the man sprawling forward. He tried to turn, to not have his back to the enemy, but he was too woozy. It was all he could do not to throw up, much less stand and fight. He fell to his knees, and shuddered with fear as he heard the man's footsteps nearing him. The large shadow loomed over him, glaring down at him in disgust. Pain exploded in the small boy's chest, as Master Kraus's foot connected and fractured ribs. "Weak," he spat, "useless..."

Darkness threatened to conquer the child, and he was ready to give in to it, he just wanted to lie down...

"No, get up. Get up now you little wretch!"

"But Master..."

"Get up!" he was savagely kicked again, and again, until....

We have to do something, Dilandau...

You? Who are you?

We have to stop him, he's mad.

We?

He's going to kill us!

Us?

DO SOMETHING!

Too much yelling was going on, and it was making him sick. He looked up, just as Master Kraus was about to step on him, and saw the silver glint of a dagger in his boot. Swiftly he drove his little hand towards the hilt of the small blade, tugging at it for all he was worth, and rolling out of the way of the killing blow of his Master's foot. The dirk came free.

Do something!

With the last of his strength Dilandau stood, and willed every ounce of energy left into his right arm as he plunged the dagger deep into his Master's back. He fell back on his behind as his Master choked and staggered around the room, his hands reaching aimlessly toward his back, fingers scurrying to find the blade buried deep inside his flesh. Dilandau sat, his breathing wet and ragged, blood spattered over his tunic and leggings, on his face. Black spots danced in his field of vision, but he refused to let them win until he saw his Master die. He had to be sure he was dead.

You killed him, Dilandau.

Who are you?

You did good.

The man finally dropped, and Dilandau allowed himself to faint, but not before asking again, Who are you? Where are you?

Sleep, Dilandau, we're ok now, you can sleep.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

He was awakened by a slight knocking at his door. He sat up slowly, his head still ached but his stomach had settled to only a slight burning. "What?" he bellowed, unless it was important he was staying right where he was, Folken could kiss his ass.

"The elite team is back, sir."

Dilandau's eyes widened, the elite team was back...Fanelia! By the gods, he'd sent them out alone to Fanelia. Quickly he got out of bed, ignoring the swirling colors of vertigo, and strapping on his armor. He brushed out his hair hastily before fastening his diadem, and throwing open the door. He'd been out of his mind that morning... he should have had the attack postponed. He'd sent them alone, with Gatty in charge? They'd never been in real battle, none of them. They could fight, he knew they could, but they would have needed him to be there for their first battle even if he just stood back and watched. How could he correct them on the field if he wasn't there? He planned on sending them out on missions without him, eventually, but not then!

This sickness, whatever it was, was going to have to go away. He was going to have to make it go away, or ignore it, fight it, something. It was impairing his better judgement. He passed Dragonslayers in the hallways, some half clad in armor, hopping around looking for boots or shoulder pads. They all quieted at the sight of Dilandau and saluted.

He struck the ones standing at attention half dressed. It had to be early afternoon, why weren't they dressed? No excuses....they would all be staying up late running extra laps, doing push ups, sit ups, and lifting weights. "What are all of you doing standing around like a bunch of lazy idiots?! Just because you had no orders for the morning, does not mean you are to be slothful and lounge around all day in your underwear! TRAINING HALL NOW! You are to do your morning AND evening run through, TWICE!"

"Yes sir!"

"Go!" Half dressed slayers tried to get to their rooms to finishing clothing themselves. "Did I tell you, you could go back to your dorms to finish getting dressed?"

"No sir."

"Then WHERE are you going? The Training Hall is THAT way! Next time, you'll know to be dressed. Nice boxers, Tristan."Dilandau glowered as underdressed slayers marched passed him toward the gym. "Biore, stay!" A nervous dark haired slayer stopped where he was, his back stiff with tension, "Where is my elite team?"

"In the hangar sir," Biore was still in his navy blue briefs with a thin white sleeveless undershirt.

"Tell them to come to the throne room where I'll be waiting," Dilandau smirked as the boy blushed at having to walk about the Vione in his underwear, and flash his underwear to the elite. "Yes, Lord Dilandau."

He swiftly made his way to the throne room, and claimed the high backed chair. The room was dim, lit with only gas lanterns. He relaxed against the rich velvet of the cushions, willing his headache away, and cursing the increasing pain in his stomach as he worried about the state of his elite team.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

"Damn Shes... that guy really did a number on your Alseid, Lord Dilandau's gonna kill you," Viole stared at the severely damaged melef unit, then at Shesta who nodded sadly in total agreement. "He's not going to be very pleased at all, but mine doesn't look nearly as bad as Dallet's."

They both winced as they glanced over at Dallet's armless, crippled unit, "Lets just hope he's in a good mood."

"Lord Dilandau in a good mood after knowingly missing a fight?" Guimel sounded incredulous, "Yeah right, you'd have better luck trying to convince Refina to have sex with you, Viole."

"Hey! I'm working on her," Viole huffed. "One day you'll see- More than you wanna know, whoa Biore! Nice undies, man! Lose a bet?"

"Slept in, all of us. Lord Dilandau was in his quarters all morning, and you were all gone, so we thought we had the morning off...."

"And he caught you guys lounging around in your boxers," Viole laughed. "Oh man, and you're still walking?"

"Double training sessions in our underwear... Anyways, he wants all of you in the throne room, now."

Viole's good humor vanished as he gulped and looked to the others. Shesta and Dallet were pale,

"Um...did he sound...mad...when he asked for us?"

"Well yeah..." Biore began, but quickly added, "but I think it was mostly because he was so pissed with the rest of us."

"Great," Guimel groaned, "you guys just went and put him in a bad mood."

"How did he look?" asked Gatty, and Shesta quickly noted that his expression and tone indicated he wasn't trying to gauge how much trouble he was in for.

"Uh, like he usually does, albeit a bit peeved..."

Gatty's face was unreadable, and Shesta sighed loudly grabbing his arm, "Gatty, is something the matter with Lord Dilandau that we should know about? Why didn't he accompany us this morning?"

Viole's eyes widened slightly, Guimel straightened his posture so that he stood taller, Dallet's face regained some of its color, and Miguel looked more attentive and tapped the hilt of his sheathed sword sticking out of his scabbard. "Well?" Shesta pressed as Gatty hesitated nervously.

"He....he wasn't feeling all too well this morning. When I went to his room to get him, he was throwing up, and in a lot of pain. He was still gonna come with us, but he was hurting so much he couldn't even stand up straight, much less finish strapping on his armor. He put me in charge, and sent me away."

Shesta gasped, and the others behind him began to murmur to one another, "And you left him alone, and didn't tell anybody, not even the Strategos? Gatty, Lord Dilandau wouldn't have let us go off alone today unless something was really wrong!"

"What was I supposed to do? He seemed pleased I didn't make a deal out of it. He..he trusts me to lead in his place... He knew I could do it alone! Something didn't have to be really wrong. You heard Biore, he looked fine when he saw him last."

"Then why did you sound so worried before?" Miguel asked accusingly, and Gatty blinked at him. Miguel too? He looked to the faces of the other Elite Slayers and saw their looks of anger, even Biore looked cross with him.

"Gods, leave me alone! Lord Dilandau didn't want the attention, so I honored his wishes! If I'd spoken up and bugged him, he might have put on his stubborn mask, and climbed into an Alseid with us! If you had seen him this morning, you would be glad he chose to remain behind."

"But you could have said something... you could have warned Lord Folken, or the other Slayers. What if something had happened, and he needed help. No one knew to check on him, Gatty."

"He can take care of himself..." guilt was heavy on his chest, he had been fretting about his decision since he'd left the Vione, and the others were making it worse. Maybe what he'd done wasn't smart, but Dilandau would have been furious with him... But would he rather have Dilandau furious and well taken care of, or pleased and in distress, or dead? He closed his eyes briefly before strengthening his resolve and putting steel behind his dark blue gaze. "I can't change my decision now, and Lord Dilandau, according to Biore, is fine, and waiting for us. Let's go."

Viole scowled at Gatty, "You're lucky he's ok," and Miguel nodded his cold agreement with that statement. Shesta looked extremely disappointed but said nothing, as did Dallet and Guimel who still looked upon Gatty heatedly. They walked past Gatty in a single file line out of the hangar on course to the throne room. Gatty sighed after them and jogged to catch up, leaving Biore behind in his thin undergarments to shiver in the open hangar as the wind blew inward.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

Dilandau stared at his kneeling Elite with flames of tempered annoyance in his eyes, not only had they taken too long to get there, but they were now telling him two of the Alseides units had been damaged during the mission. Shesta and Dallet had come forward knelt directly in front of him, "So, am I to understand that you, my best soldiers, went out on a simple raid mission, against a country run by a bunch of backwater hillbillies, and got two of my Alseides damaged? How was that possible, and you were in stealth mode none-the-less? Were you purposefully trying to embarrass me?" Heightened adrenaline from fear and worry of the condition of his Elite, intensified by their delay upon arrival to his throne room, along with the weariness of his body, throbbing in his head, and burning pains in stomach, made him see red when he gazed upon the degraded six. He rose from his high backed stair, his eyes dangerous, and he moved closer to Shesta and Dallet set apart from their fellow Slayers. He slapped the both of them swiftly and efficiently, only calming when he saw them both sway, and red hand prints blossoming on their faces, "F...Forgive us..." they stuttered.

Dilandau glowered at them, at all of them, "I will not tolerate this kind of incompetence from you ever again, if you wish to remain part of my Elite! You will train harder, practices will be extended. You are all dismissed...except you Gatty, you stay."

"Yes sir!" They all chorused, standing, bowing, then scampering from the room, leaving Gatty behind.

The blond first command remained in a kneel as Dilandau neared him and stood in front of him, "Rise."

Gatty rose slowly, and gazed into his commanders fusia eyes awaiting his punishment. Dilandau studied him, noting the proud way he held his held, and the lack of tremors in his frame, with a nod. There had been no casualties, no one had been hurt, Fanelia had been destroyed, and his Slayers had returned to the fortress in a timely fashion. Gatty had also not looked at with concern, or pity, but as a subordinate awaiting an order. He was a good soldier, "I commend you on a job well done on your first mission."

Gatty's eyes widened in surprise that was quickly smoldered, he hesitated before saying, "Thank you, sir."

"You will join your fellow Elite, and give them orders to eat, shower, rest for at least 2 hours, then run a private flight practice of your own in the Alseides. I do not expect to see you back until lights out."

"Yes sir!"

"Dismissed."

Gatty left the room with a bow, his eyes alight with pleasure at being given a rare compliment from his master. Dilandau watched his back with stern eyes, until he was gone. The moment the door close he let his knees give out, and collapsed to the floor. A wave of pure agony washed over him as he brought his knees to his chest and began to rock back and forth. Fight it, he had to fight this... there was no room for weakness in him. He shut his eyes and struggled to keep tears from brimming in his eyes, Dilandau Albatou did not cry, not for pain, not for sadness. He stifled a cry out, as invisible hands gripped his insides and gave them a violent squeeze. He gagged softly, coughing as a string of thin liquid fell from his lips. He wiped his hand across his mouth, and brought the pale appendage to the light to see that it was stained red. Blood, there was blood on his hand... He stared at it a little longer until his vision swam and all he saw was a red ocean. He didn't remember when he lost awareness, all he remembered was waking up, with Folken staring down at him.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

He opened his eyes to find he was still inside the cockpit of the Escaflowne, and surrounded by trees. He opened the hatch, and climbed out carefully, wary of his environment. Judging from the position of the stars in the night sky, he knew he was still in Gaea. "Hitomi?" he questioned. He looked to the large empty hand of his guymelef, uh-oh. "Hi...Hitomi?" He jumped down from the body of the machine, and began to inspect the area. Please don't let her be under the Escaflowne, that would be really disgusting. He shuddered just thinking about it. Then he'd have to scrape her off, and worry about burying her remains. Ok, maybe he was being a little morbid, but he'd just seen his homeland go up in flames, he believed he was entitled. He sat down in the grass with his legs sprawled in front of him staring straight forward into the shadows of the woods trying not to envision the utter destruction of Fanelia, or hear the frightened screams of many. He was going to avenge his country even if it brought about his death. He was going to find out who was behind the attack, who orchestrated it, and annihilate them.

A high pitched scream broke into his thoughts that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, "Hitomi!" Avenging Fanelia would have to wait a little while longer... He ran deeper into the uninviting darkness of the woods towards the source of the panicked scream.

The scream drew him toward the area, he heard the shriek of his owl Natal alerting him that he'd located the damsel in distress. He stepped into the small clearing grinning a he imagined he would have a new female admirer. "Step away from the maiden," he announced in his clear carrying voice.

He watched as the creature assaulting the young girl jumped back in surprise, and turned with wide eyes to view him. He almost groaned when he saw the mole man, "You again?" The mole man was a known thief, but this was the first time he tried to assault anyone, much less a woman. "Tired of petty theft, thought you'd try something new? Do you find attacking young women more satisfying now?"

"A...Allen..."

Before he could choke out the rest of his name, Allen Schezar of Asturia, the renown Heavenly Knight, was charging forward. He delivered a clean uppercut punch to the chin that lifted the mole man a foot off the ground, and backward another foot. He landed ungracefully on his back and lay still. Allen smirked at the sight, then turned his attention to the young maiden. He appraised her delicately, she had a fresh look to her, that let Allen know she was still in her teen years, short light brown hair, and large green eyes. Her clothing was odd, a short skirt that revealed her bare legs, odd shoes, and a strange frock sporting a bow at the neck. She looked at him fearfully, she inched back further into the tree she was leaning against. He smiled winningly, slicking back a long strand of blond hair that had fallen into his eyes. He extended a hand toward her, "Are you alright, miss?" The girl whimpered, but didn't cringe from his hand anymore. He knelt in front of her, "What are you doing out here at this time of night all alone? I bet there's a story behind it.." he smiled at her again, hoping to get her to speak. From the scream and the small frightened noises she was making, he knew she wasn't mute. "Miss?"

Her large green eyes were watering, and she trembled as she leaned toward him slowly, "A...Amano!" she stuttered. Amano? Was that a name, or was she speaking a different language? "Oh Amano, I thought I'd never see you again!" she threw herself into his arms, and Allen helplessly put his arms around the girl letting her weep. This had to be one of the strangest damsel in distress rescues he'd had. No woman had ever made a mistake in who he was. After a moment he felt the girl go limp in his hold...she'd fainted. He stood slowly with the girl in his arms, he would have to take her back to his castle and from there try to locate her parents if she had any.

There was a ruffling behind him, and he turned to see a gangly dark-haired boy emerge, "What have you done to that girl?" He yelled at Allen angrily, he reached for the hilt of the sword he wore at his waist, "Don't draw, " Allen warned him. He didn't like to fight children, but if the boy were to pull out a weapon he'd be forced to protect the girl and himself. Though, the boy did seem to know the girl. The boy removed his blade so quickly Allen failed to see the royal crest decorating its hilt, Allen sighed, the young ones always ignored his warnings. He laid the girl down gently and drew his blade, "You're making a mistake," he gave the boy one last warning.

The boy ignored it, and charged toward him with a loud battle cry. Allen was quick to block his blow, the boy fought with a vigor he had to respect, but his swordsman ship was rather clumsy. He would be an easy kill, but Allen was not found of killing minors, and it was clear he had good intentions in mind. As the boy ghosted past him, he hit him squarely in the solar plexus with the back of his sword knowing the move would bring the boy down. He stood in place watching the boy's reaction to the hit, satisfied when the boy collapsed. He moved forward to retrieve the sword he'd used, and examine its crest. The royal crest of Fanelia...this skinny little boy he'd just knocked out, was the king of Fanelia? He shook his head, he couldn't leave royalty unconscious and alone in the woods. He sighed looking at the two bodies, and the thief he was going to have to transport back to his castle. He was going to need a horse.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

Destroyed, all of it. It shouldn't have came as such a surprise to him, after all Dilandau had been sent. He knew anywhere Dilandau went disaster was sure to follow. His only relief was the fact that his little brother had gotten away...regrettably though, with the Escaflowne. Which meant, he would have to send Dilandau out again. Every time Dilandau and his Dragonslayers were sent out lowered Van's chances for survival substantially. He wanted to take time to come up with another alternative to capturing the Escaflowne, maybe he could lure Van to their side by getting him alone, talking to him. Then he'd give up the Escaflowne, but after conferring with Emperor Dornkirk, he was told time was of the essence. He didn't have the time it would require to reconcile with his younger brother, and bring him there by his own free will. He could order Dilandau to capture the Escaflowne, and if its pilot was intact not to kill him...but Dilandau was so hard to control once in battle and that insane bloodlust took over.

So he just needed to ensure there would be no battle, though he could not do that in any case Dilandau was involved in. He ate, slept, and breathed for warfare. If he could do nothing but fight and kill, he'd be happier than Folken had ever seen him. He stepped into the Dragonslayers training hall. Nine slayers were hard at work inside, a few in their undergarments. Folken blinked, concealing an amused smile.

"Where's your Captain?" he called stopping one fully dressed slayer running past. The slayer panted in front of Folken, "He hasn't been in to check on us... the last place I know for sure he went, was to the throne room. The Elite...came back, and he wanted to talk to them."

Folken sighed, then Dilandau could be anywhere. It was common practice for him to go off in his Alseides with his team for flight and battle training away from the Vione. If he'd gone off with his best slayers they could be gone until morning. Folken nodded to the slayer he had spoken to, and the red haired boy resumed the lap he was running. He should have soldiers out looking for Dilandau...if he could get any soldier that wasn't a member of Dilandau's slayers to come near him. After he'd broken one man's arm, and the nose of another, everyone else pretty much steered clear of him. He opened the doors to the throne room only meaning to glance inside briefly before continuing on to his quarters. He knew he'd find it empty, but the perfectionist in him would never rest if he left any possible corner, no matter how unlikely, unlooked in. The small patch of light thrown into the room by the slight opening in the door illuminated a small figure on the floor, it didn't move, but the shape was familiar enough for him to know who it was. He slid into the dim room, stopping to light a gas lantern. "Dilandau?" He knelt next to the boy lying curled in the fetal position, and rolled him onto his back, "Dilandau, can you hear me?"

The albino was unresponsive, and Folken peeled back his eyelids to check his pupils. How long had he been lying there? He wondered, releasing an eyelid and taking the boy's pulse. Foolish sorcerers... If he had known before they had taken Dilandau last that they were going to risk a premature separation to solve some of the insubordination issues they'd been having with Dilandau, he never would have allowed him to leave. The type of Fate Alteration Dilandau was a product of was highly experimental, and had only been done 4 other times. The first attempted separation was a fatal failure for both parties, the second was successful only for the host, the body had been only a year younger than Dilandau. The third separation was tried on a subject at 18 years of age, the host survived, but the alter ego survived only a year after separation. The fourth was a success, though the alter ego was impaired for a very long time after the procedure. The successful test subject had been 25 years old. All evidence proved that a successful separation procedure could only be performed after the subject''s body was fully mature, and both parties locked inside the body were secure and independent of one another for function. Dilandau's instability and age were definite clues that a separation would be a failure. The fact that he survived at all surprised Folken, but he obviously was not going to last. If there was a way to reverse the process he would recommend it.

He opened the overcoat of armor the boy wore, wishing he had water and a cloth. The pale skin revealed underneath the armor was warm and peppered with perspiration. He would take him to the infirmary, the medics there could treat his visible symptoms though they would not be able to do anything about the real internal problem causing them. He worked one arm under the boys limp arms to lift his body towards his chest, then got the other arm under his knees. He was about to lift, when Dilandau stirred. He released him then, lying him back on the floor, "Dilandau?"

"C...Celena?" his reddish eyes opened reluctantly to gaze upon Folken. "Folken?"

"Yes."

"Wh...what happened?" Dilandau groaned and tried to sit up on his own, after failing twice he lay still, glaring up at Folken. "Well?"

"It appears you fainted," Folken shrugged, "I wasn't here when it happened, I merely found you."

"Great, just great," Dilandau grumbled. "Help me up?"

Folken obliged him, first helping him sit, eyes widening when Dilandau didn't stop struggling from there. "I don't think you should try to stand just yet."

"Either help me, or stand back!" Dilandau snapped saucily. Folken rolled his eyes, and helped Dilandau clamber to his feet. Once he was upright his knees buckled, making him have to lean on Folken,

"Gods...what the hell is wrong with me? Let me go, I'm going to stand on my own, dammit!"

Folken didn't catch him when he fell to his knees again. He watched Dilandau pound the floor with his fist as he vented his rage, "Dammit all to hell! Freakin' incompetent is what I am! Shit!"

He raged and ranted for a good 10 minutes before he tired and fell in on himself resting his head on his arms breathing heavily. "Would you like my help now, Dilandau?"

"Stop freakin' mocking me Folken..." Dilandau growled. Folken merely lifted an eyebrow. "Get me up."He raised his head to meet Folken's metal hand, and took it, letting the man pull him up. He leaned on him as they made their way out of the throne room. "We cannot take the main hallway, I will not let anyone see me dependent on you."

Folken nodded and took the alternate route he was planning on taking even before Dilandau stopped him. They moved for five minutes, before Dilandau grunted, "This isn't the way to my room."

"We're not going there."

"Where the hell are we going then, Folken? I do not feel like meeting with Emperor Dornkirk now, or anyone else for that matter! You will take me to my room!"

"I am taking you to the infirmary."

"You're what?!" Folken smirked as Dilandau used what was left of his meager strength to fight him.

"You're ill, Dilandau, they can help you."

He felt Dilandau relax a bit, "They can help me?"

No, not in the way you need, but, "They can help you feel better." The words seem to be enough to calm him, "Folken?"

"What?"

"When we get there, out in the open when people can see us, you will release me, and I will walk into the infirmary myself."

Folken nodded smirk growing, now that was something he'd like to see. He realized then why the sorcerers must have believed Dilandau would be different from their other failed projects, he was stronger of will than anything they'd ever created before. They were every bit as overly ambitious as their prodigy.

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

Shesta was pulling back his blankets ready to climb into bed, he looked across the room at Gatty who polishing the silver of his armor until it shone. "Gatty?"

"What is it?"

"What did Lord Dilandau keep you after for?" He sat on the bed without sliding under the covers, as he peered at his roommate. Gatty's face flushed lightly with pleasure as a large grin graced his features, "To tell me what a good job I did, today."

Shesta's eyebrows rose in surprise, "He did what?" Lord Dilandau had delivered that type of praise? He felt... was that jealousy? Lord Dilandau had never given him such a compliment. He'd given him looks that expressed his delight, or slight smiles, but never kind words such as those. "He commended me, Shesta." Gatty hung up his armor and put away the polishing cloth. "I don't really think he was mad at all about those Alseides."

"No," Shesta shook his head, "I think he was more worried about us getting into a situation where we could have been hurt. Those slaps he gave Dallet and I...they didn't hurt. I more bowed my head in shame than in pain."

"I want to know how that guy saw through your stealth cloaks," Gatty frowned furrowing his brow.

"Lord Dilandau must have told Lord Folken about it by now. Tomorrow we'll probably be learning a new system to master."

"Hmm," Shesta hummed as his mind wandered away from what Gatty had said. Sure he was worried about their defenses being compromised during battle. The problem needed to rectified immediately, but right then...that night. That night, he worried about his leader, who had been so ill that morning he passed command on to a green first in command, and whom he also hadn't seen all day after their debriefing. "You think he's ok?"

"Who? Lord Dilandau?""No one's seen him at all after the last time we did, and he didn't look so good then."

"He looked ok to me."

"Oh get the stars out of your eyes Gatty, he looked like death warmed over," Shesta snapped. "I wonder if he's been to a medic at all, I doubt it."

"Yeah, me too, but he'll be fine. You know Lord Dilandau, nothing stops him. Remember when we first got the Alseides, and he insisted on testing them each out before he let us touch them?"

"I'd never been so scared in my life when I saw that unit nearly self destruct in the hangar when he tried to start it," Shesta shuddered remembering the day almost 2 years ago.

They had received their first Alseides units to practice in, and Dilandau climbed into the 7th Alseid unit to give it a test run. He had been wearing that wild grin of his he only got when his adrenaline levels were high, usually during and immediately following a good fight. He'd been taking the machines for 20 minute joyrides testing out all of their weapons, and doing dangerous aerial maneuvers that left his subordinates in awe as they watched how good he was. He'd just started the engine for that 7th one, when the guymelef began to shake, and smoke began to pour from somewhere in the rear of the unit. They heard Dilandau's loud curse, telling them right away that he wasn't responsible for the smoke screen.

Several engineers, that had been watching and making note of each system as Dilandau returned them, ran to the bucking machine trying to manually shut it off from the outside, and extract Dilandau. There was a small explosion, and the entire guymelef was red hot with heat from the flames spewing from its head. "Holy shit!" Viole had uttered, and charged forward along with Shesta, Gatty, Miguel, and Dallet. They had always been favorites of Dilandau's, and would do anything for him. An engineer hollered at them to stand below the hatch to catch Dilandau when they cracked the hatch open with the metal tool they held between them, then to run for cover as fast as possible. Everyone else was told to get back, leave the hangar. The hatch screeched loudly making them cringe, as it opened just enough for them to see Dilandau inside, he appeared to be unconscious against the hull. Gatty and Miguel had been the brave ones who risked climbing upon the unit to try to pull Dilandau as the engineers worked to open the hatch more to free him. Viole, Dallet, Shesta, and another boy they didn't know very well then, who just couldn't leave their leader behind in the horrible situation, Guimel... charged forward to wait just below Gatty and Miguel, should they fall, to catch them. "I got his arms!" Miguel was saying. "Careful now, watch his head," Gatty hissed. The two boys worked together to pull their leader from the half open doorway. Neither boy could keep his balance while handling the dead weight of another in the unusual perch they were in, and both bodies tumbled backward when the third was secure in their arms. Shesta remembered the pain in his arms and chest when the weight of their armored bodies crashed into him, he even recalled the small cuts he'd received from the sharp silver of the Dragonslayers' uniform his comrades wore. Pain didn't stop them though. They didn't have time to let Gatty and Miguel back on their feet to reorient themselves with the ground as they'd been winded from their fall. All three were carried swiftly away from the Alseid as flames engulfed it. The engineers screamed, fire alarms shrilled about them, and other personnel flowed in with water hoses. The 6 slayers crouched in the far corner shaking, and hoovering over their fallen commander. His skin was impossibly paler than usual, making the blood streaming from the back of his head staining his neck seem incandescent. "Get his armor off," Shesta had said in a weak voice, surprised at the others obeying him. He was covered in bruises, but what scared Shesta to death was the large ugly bruise on his pale stomach area... He touched it gently, flinching when Dilandau moaned, internal bleeding...

"They had to take him into surgery, and we didn't see him for days," Gatty recalled. "But as soon as he was conscious, he pulled himself out of the infirmary, and came to make sure we were still having practices."

"I thought he would pass out. He even put on his armor, and came and sat in his throne. He just went on directing practice as if he hadn't almost died, and didn't have stitches in his stomach," Shesta frowned.

"He never does what's good for him, Gatty."

"Well whatever it is now cannot be as serious as that. Like I said before, he'll be fine in a few days," Gatty tried to shrug.

Shesta groaned in irritation at Gatty's density, it was clear he would not be getting through to his roommate that night, "You know what Gatty, never mind."

"Hmm?" Shesta rolled his eyes, his roommate was gazing at his armor, undoubtably thinking about the compliments he'd gotten earlier that day from Lord Dilandau. Shesta supposed he'd be glowing too if he'd been the one, but he hadn't been, so all he felt in his heart was worry. He slid out of bed, and pulled on a pair of sweat pants over his boxers, and stepped into his slippers. If he stood any chance of going to sleep that night, he needed to take a walk to clear his head.

Yes it was Lights Out, yes Lord Dilandau was known to be very harsh on slayers ignoring the curfew, but Shesta was an Elite, a favorite. Dilandau had caught him once before wandering the hallways, and said nothing. He didn't even mention it the following morning. The hallways were dark and shadowy as he left the Dragonslayers' corridors.

He froze as he heard voices from further on down the hall, probably the just night guards, but there was the chance that they could be soldiers from a different platoon. Wouldn't they love to catch Dilandau's second in command wandering the halls after hours, unarmed and in his bathrobe. Maybe this midnight stroll wasn't such a good idea after all. The other notoriety of what Dilandau would do to anyone besides him that touched one of his slayers was waning, because no one had tried in so long. Shesta felt more than confident he could take down a few of the overweight lowlifes in the Trojan squadron, but if the Aries were out that night he would be in trouble.

He hugged the wall as the voices grew nearer, there were only two different tones he could decipher, meaning there were only two soldiers. He was about to start backtracking to the slayer hallways when he recognized the voices. How could he not? Lord Dilandau and Lord Folken, and they seemed to be arguing with one another softly. Nothing new there, they always argued. Sometimes their bickering sounded like that between siblings, which amused Shesta to no end though he didn't dare giggle.

They were coming closer.... and Shesta began to feel some apprehension, though Lord Dilandau hadn't cared about his previous midnight adventures, he didn't think he'd be too happy about finding him lurking the halls this time. Images of Dilandau setting him afire on the account of eavesdropping played in his mind, and his brain began postulating alternate routes he could take to avoid running into his superiors."You're being ridiculous Dilandau. You left your men to run themselves for more than a week, and they are still in optimum form. I'm very sure you can leave them alone for a few more days, and they will not fall apart."

"I sent them alone on their first Alseides mission today, and two of them were almost damaged."

Two of them were ALMOST damaged? Shesta scratched his head, his Alseides had been dismembered, and Dallet's was a mess, had Lord Dilandau forgotten their report?

"But they were not, everyone of your men returned safely. Even had you been there, those casualties may have occurred... Stop glaring at me, you know it's true... Let me take you back to..."

"I already told you where you can take me, and if you won't, then goodnight, Folken! Get the hell out of my way!"

Shesta was so into their conversation he'd failed to remember he was suppose to be retreating, and ended up face to face, to face, with Folken and Dilandau. They stared at each other for a one silent second, then Shesta flinched closing his eyes for the reprimand from Dilandau. One never came, "Shesta..." his voice was soft.

"Y..yes Lord Dilandau?"

"What are you doing out here?"

"Taking a walk sir, I couldn't sleep," maybe he was going to let him off again, he gazed at his leader hopefully trying to gauge the look in his magenta eyes. "This is the second time I've caught you Shesta."

"Yes sir."

"Don't let there be a third time," his voice was silky and light. "Go on now, back to your quarters. If I get back to my room and see you, or your light still on, I won't care if it's Gatty's, you're going to be on bathroom detail!"

Shesta shuddered, and bowed his head, "Yes , Lord Dilandau..." he was walking away when his captain first began to fall. Out of the corner of his eye he saw him sway, and as he turned he saw Folken leaning in to catch him and going down with him. Shesta barely suppressed a gasp, and quickly dropped beside the officials. "Lord Dilandau, can you hear me?" Shesta stared into the albino's lurid face. He looked to Folken, "What's the matter with him sir, where were two coming from?"

"The infirmary," Folken said in a monotone, "he's not well."

"He hasn't looked well since he got here," Shesta commented under his breath. "Would you like my help in getting him back to the infirmary, sir?"

"If you take me back there I'll hurt someone... I want to go to my room," Dilandau was murmuring feverishly.

Folken sighed, "Very well Dilandau, but I will not be checking on you in the morning, I have an early meeting and will not have time. Wouldn't you rather be in a setting where someone can help you around the clock."

"I don't want help!" Dilandau groaned, he opened his dull eyes and tried to sit. "Shesta, give me a boost. You'll take me to my room, won't you?"

Shesta frowned at his leader, he looked horrible, dark circles ringed his eyes, and he was damp with sweat. Could he really fight both him and Folken in his condition? "Shesta?" Dilandau's reddish eyes bore into his, flames smoldering behind them.

Slowly Shesta lowered his head, feeling the need to obey his lord, "Yes Lord Dilandau, I'll take you wherever you want to go.""Excellent," Dilandau breathed. Shesta carefully helped him up, and waited until Dilandau steadied himself and against him before they started to move. "Good night Folken," Dilandau sneered, not looking back at the scowling Strategos.

Shesta moved slowly, most of Dilandau's weight was on his shoulders. They didn't speak, he wasn't sure if Dilandau would like it. He was already embarrassed enough about his situation. Shesta wondered what was wrong with him. Perhaps it was that gripe some of the other soldiers had been passing around to one another. But Dilandau never got sick...not that they knew of. They took a back hallway to the Slayers hallway that Dilandau picked out, he didn't want anyone to see him leaning on Shesta. Shesta released Dilandau to let him open the door to his bedroom, "Do you need my help for bed, Lord Dilandau?"

"Gods no, just go away now Shesta. Forget about this, and don't mention it to anyone!" Dilandau stumbled in through the door, and then slammed it in Shesta's face. The door was locked from the inside Shesta heard the click, and sighed deeply. Well, it appeared he was in Gatty's position now. He knew something was wrong with his lord, but his lord would rather he kept his silence.

Folken knew....he knew something was wrong, he tried to reason with himself for not betraying Dilandau's trust. If anything's really wrong, Folken will help him. What help could a bunch of panicked Dragonslayers be anyway? He nodded to himself as he pulled himself away from the door. Yes, he'd do as Dilandau wished. He'd be a good soldier, and maybe he'd get commended like Gatty. He walked to his room with his head hung low, he was doing the right thing... he was.

But why did he feel so awful about it?

**Author's Note: So how was that? Please review :) Take care!**