Chapter 12
It's my fault, Van couldn't help but think as he sat aboard the trading convoy staring at Allen's prone form. He was apart from the group with only Merle as company, as Allen's crew along with Hitomi hovered over the fallen knight.
He hadn't fought as hard as he should have. One on one with Dilandau again, he felt strange, guilty even. He kept recalling their last meeting and how he'd nicked the pale boy's pretty face. Had the wound healed; did it leave a mark? It probably had, and that made him feel horrible. He had ruined something beautiful. He couldn't bring himself to fight Dilandau as he could have. He was willing to let himself be caught again, not only would that even the score, but maybe he'd get that time with Dilandau he longed for. The only downside would be: having to deal with Folken. He shuddered, he wondered how Dilandau got along with Folken? Did he hate him, like he'd claimed to hate Van before? Or worse, maybe Dilandau liked him.
Folken always was the good-looking one in the family. He had taken after their mother. If Dilandau were to be attracted to anyone, it would probably be Folken...or even... Van shot a dark look at Allen.
He sobered immediately as he noticed the sweat beaded across Allen's fair features. Now was not the time to be jealous that Allen could be the object of affection for not just Hitomi, but maybe Dilandau too. Damn it, he couldn't be tall, he couldn't be blond, he couldn't even have muscles! Who in their right mind would want him?
He smiled softly to himself as Merle rested her fluffy head on his shoulder. He sighed and patted Merle's head gently. Merle would always want him. She was the only constant in his life.
"Hello, isn't this a pleasant surprise?!" A familiar voice broke the tense silence in the room and all heads turned to see Princess Millerna entering. She stared at the grim faces in confusion and moved further into the room to see what Hitomi and Allen's crew were crowded around. "Oh my gods! Allen! What happened to him?"
"He was injured in battle. He's bleeding on the inside, and this ship doesn't have a medic that can handle an injury like this," Gaddes informed her.
Millerna frowned, "So what... you're just going to let him die? Can't we land somewhere, and..."
Gaddes shook his head, "Not with those Zaibach bastards out there looking for us."
"Princess, might I make a suggestion?" Everyone jumped at the new voice. It was the mole man that had helped Van escape from the cell Allen had him in. "Couldn't you help the knight? After all, you've studied medicine."
"Only books, I've never actually practiced..." Millerna stammered.
"But you do know to go about examining a body and treating it, right?" the mole man pressed, and Millerna nodded reluctantly.
"Oh Millerna! You have to try!" Hitomi grabbed the Princess's arm.
"But..."
"You're his only hope. He won't make it to Freid, if we can't stop the bleeding!" Hitomi pleaded.
Millerna sighed, her face was pale and her hands trembled. "Alright, fine...I'll try. But... I'll need some help. Gaddes, Kio, Reeden... I'll need you. Hitomi, if you can stand the sight of blood, I would be grateful for your assistance as well."
Hitomi nodded, "I'll help in anyway I can. Thank you, Princess."
Van sat silently with Merle watching as the preparations were made to save Allen. Inside, Van was thinking, good heavens that isn't me! Outside, he appeared stoic. Overall, he felt inculpative. In future battles, he would have to keep his mind on the fight, no matter who it was with, or valuable allies got hurt.
The only good thing that had resulted from the disastrous situation was: they had a prisoner. Van smirked thinking about the arrogant dark-haired Avenger that had wanted to take his head off aboard his brother's fortress not so long ago. It was funny how the tables turned.
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This was degrading! How in the hell did Miguel manage to let himself be caught by these peasants. He glared at the dirty hands that had tied his hands behind his back and had shoved him into the dark store room he was currently in.
Well, thank the gods he was alone. He shuddered at the thought of being locked away with another smelly prisoner. Prisoner, he, Miguel Lavariel, was a prisoner. Oi, Viole was never going to shut up about this one.
Viole... he'd heard him cry out; had he been hurt? He worried about the state of his regiment. Lord Dilandau had been untouched; they'd all made sure of that. That thought alone made him feel a bit better, and the weight in his chest lightened.
He shut his eyes against the dim settings of the store room and worked to still his shivers. It was chilly in the room on the account of the crates and sacks of salted meat and fresh vegetables. Miguel hated to think that these people would eat vegetables that had been kept in the same vicinity of raw meat. Had they never heard of parasites?
He smirked wickedly, good. They would all get worms, and Miguel would be able to escape why they writhed in pain and overpopulated the bathrooms to find means to end their pathetic suffering.
Erasing images of the Fanelian King holding his middle and knocking impatiently on a bathroom door, he began to think carefully about his situation. So, he was captured. This lot didn't seem like the type to torture anyone, but they would of course, demand military information from him. He couldn't give them any of that, so they would most likely execute him, or throw him in the duchy's prison for the rest of his life. He didn't look forward to either, so he would have to think of escape. His best chance of making a quick getaway would be soon, while he was simply aboard a virtually security-less trade ship, rather than when they reached Freid and he was tossed into a dungeon. But...what if Lord Dilandau was coming to rescue him?
He felt no doubt that his Lord was thinking of him and wondered if he should just remain where he was, in total confidence he'd be freed by his comrades. It would certainly be easier. Trying to escape from this vessel, he may be killed on sight. The savages were already upset that their leader had been hurt... had even threatened to kill him, if their beloved boss died. Miguel had stuck, is nose in the air at their threats. He wasn't afraid of them...but he didn't want to be killed by them either. He would appreciate his death better if it came from an equal or someone who was his better. To be killed by dirty, second-rate servants of a knight was dishonorable.
He reopened his eyes to stare into the darkness that encompassed him. He wouldn't act at all, for now. He couldn't afford to take the chance of being killed just yet. He would wait them out and see what their intentions were, then he'd think about escape...or by then Lord Dilandau would have sent someone in with something to let him know he was to be rescued.
He nodded, Lord Dilandau would save him. He had total faith in the captain.
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"This is shit," Dilandau growled, pacing around the small throne room before Folken. "Why won't you just let me send my Slayers after them. We had them in our grasp earlier. Schezar was as good as dead, and I was dealing with the Escaflowne...screw Freid!"
"Dilandau, please, I know you're upset. I..."
"UPSET?" Dilandau's voice shrilled. "Infuriated is more like it and..and... Gods Folken, let us go after them! It won't take long."
Folken sighed, he was about to give up on trying to calm the boy. His agitation was beyond control, and Folken was starting to worry. "Dilandau, did you take...?"
"NO!" Dilandau roared. "I'm never touching anything you give me again, Folken! I reacted like a damn slug out there! Miguel...he was... he was picking up my slack! That's how the damn dragon was able to catch him vulnerable. This is my fault! I should have known better than to go out on the field without testing myself first! Your medicine makes me useless in battle, Folken. It slows my reaction time and makes me drowsy. I can't use it. You'll have to find something else."
"Dilandau, you know it's dangerous for you not to take the capsules regularly, especially when you're...agitated."
"AGITATED?" Dilandau pounded both fists onto the small table and glared hard into Folken's eyes. He shook his head slowly, "Find something else Folken. I won't risk the lives of my Slayers like that again. I have to be able to make split-second decisions!"
"Alright Dilandau, I will look into other treatments...but for now, please take the capsules. You're already trembling."
Dilandau scowled down at his shaking hands as they rested on the table. "I have to plan an extraction for Miguel. They're going to put him in the dungeon in the duchy's palace. I won't have that."
"Dilandau, I already have a plan formulated that will not only rescue your man, but also solve other problems we have right now. Allen Schezar and his convoy were likely on their way to tell the duchy of Freid that we plan to attack."
"And how are you going to stop that? He's as good as there... unless you'd let me go and..."
"No," Folken said firmly. The pale captain frowned deeply and let his body fall into the empty chair across from Folken. He rested his head in his hands and rubbed at his temples.
"What then, Folken?" Dilandau mumbled.
"You will see," Folken said, then gave a nod behind Dilandau to a presence he couldn't see, but knew was there. "Zongi, come forward."
Dilandau removed his head from his hands to gaze about curiously; suddenly, he covered his nose in disgust, "What's that smell?"
Folken hid a slight grin as the doppleganger materialized behind the boy and stood waiting to be acknowledged. Dilandau rose from his chair and nearly backed into the waiting body. He spun around at the last moment to notice the creature, and his eyes went double their normal size. Folken had to give him credit for not yelping in shock, though Folken could tell he wanted to.
"Zongi, I have a mission for you."
Dilandau's shock transformed itself into incredulity, "Folken, you cannot be serious! You are not sending a doppleganger after Miguel! They can't be trusted!"
"Dilandau... Miguel is a prisoner of war, and he will be questioned. A special priest, named Plaktu, will be called in for the interrogation."
"Miguel won't talk," Dilandau spat.
"Miguel won't want to talk, but Plaktu can invade minds. He will get all the answers he needs from Miguel, and we cannot let that happen. Zongi will be sent out to intercept Plaktu's vehicle..."
"And...kill and impersonate the priest," Dilandau sat back in his chair and brought his hands to his temples again.
"Yes," Folken said. "And, once he's inside of the duchy's walls posing as Plaktu, the power will be in our hands. Miguel will be set free, the dragon surrendered, and Schezar will be thrown in jail."
Dilandau nodded, not looking up to meet Folken's eyes. He was no doubt angry that Folken's plan made more sense than any of his would at that point.
"I will need one of your Slayers to plant Zongi on Plaktu's ship, Dilandau," Folken said.
"I'll do it myself," Dilandau muttered.
"Fine," Folken knew he wouldn't be able to talk him out of it. "The move will be made in 2 hours; until then, get some rest."
"Whatever."
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Rest with this headache? Oh that should be easy, Dilandau wanted to snap back at Folken, but since he already knew what Folken's annoying response would be, he decided to keep his mouth shut. He left Folken alone in the company of the smelly doppleganger and went to seek out his Slayers. The Second and Third String, he figured, would be separated in their own rooms, but his Elite were probably all in one place. He didn't knock before entering Gatty and Shesta's room. Dallet, Guimel, Viole, Shesta, and Gatty rose to their feet, murmuring, "Sir," as they saluted. They waited until Dilandau seated himself on Shesta's bed to question him.
"When are we going to get Miguel?" Viole was the first to get his question out. The usual joviality was gone from his pale face. His hands fidgeted in his lap and his lips remained in a straight line with a slight downturn at their edges.
The other Slayers leaned in, awaiting the answer. They hadn't even relieved themselves of their weapons yet. Dilandau sighed deeply and studied each solemn face surrounding him before he spoke, "We're not...not yet anyway. Folken has another plan to free Miguel that doesn't involve us."
"What? But Miguel is our own! How can he not involve us?" Dallet demanded.
"His plan secures Miguel's release and protects Zaibach's interests," Dilandau said dully.
"And that plan is?" Shesta inquired, frowning at Dilandau's vagueness.
"A doppleganger," Dilandau grumbled, putting his hands back to his temples again and rubbing. "He wants to send in a damn doppleganger to do our job. He'll impersonate some important priest that the duchy will call in to question Miguel and plant it into the duchy's head that Schezar is a traitor and the dragon should be given to us. It sounds good, but..."
"It's a doppleganger," Gatty concluded. "I don't trust it."
"Neither do I," Dilandau said. He stared at his Elite; they were all looking at him expectantly. Certainly he had a fall back plan.... His Slayers had more faith in him than he did. He let himself flop back onto Shesta's pillow. "Folken trusts the doppleganger and thinks it will help us."
He paused as he stared at the ceiling, racking his brain for something else to say to calm the nerves of his men. "We'll give him 3 days, after that, all bets are off, and we go get Miguel ourselves."
"Three days?" Viole sounded uncertain. "Isn't that a long time, sir?"
It was... but Dilandau had to give Folken's plan a small chance to work. Zongi wouldn't be placed until late this afternoon; it would take him a day to get to Freid, a day to set the plan into motion, and on the third day, Dilandau would expect to see Miguel unharmed...or he'd toast Freid and dear Zongi along with it. "We have to give Folken's plan time to work itself out."
"Yes sir," Viole breathed.
"When does this Zongi leave?"
"In a couple of hours. I'm to deposit him aboard the Freid leviship."
"You?" Shesta asked.
"Why you, Lord Dilandau? Couldn't one of us go instead?" Gatty asked.
"I'm perfectly fine with it," Dilandau said, shutting his eyes against the light.
"Lord Dilandau, you're tired, and you're not well. Let one of us do it," Dallet said.
It was so tempting. Shesta's bed was very inviting, and he could have easily stayed there all day. "Please?" Gatty asked softly. "It sounds like a very menial task; there's no way any of us could screw it up or get into trouble."
"You can rest here," Shesta offered. "No one will disturb you."
They just didn't give up and their arguments were very convincing. He didn't feel well; he was experiencing the temporary vertigo and nausea that were side effects of the medication wearing off. Gods he felt sick when he took it and sick when he didn't take it. Everything for him had to be so complicated! "Fine."
"I'll do it," Gatty rose from his seat. "I'm going to find the Strategos and tell him of the change in plans."
"Do you need anything, Lord Dilandau? Something to eat, drink..?"
Dilandau shook his head. The thought of food made him sick. He frowned at the kindness of his Slayers. Why weren't they mad at him for failing them? He'd lost one of their comrades. He had proven that he couldn't protect them in battle.
"Have you had anything at all today?" Shesta asked.
Dilandau was silent. He'd avoided Folken and his Slayers that morning, not wanting to see the disappointment in him in his Slayers faces and not wanting to be pestered by Folken to eat.
"Lord..."
"I thought you said I wouldn't be disturbed, Shesta," Dilandau said dully. He kept his eyes closed so he wouldn't see the hurt on Shesta's open face.
"Sorry, sir," Shesta murmured. "We'll leave you alone."
After he'd heard the last of them leave and the door close, he curled onto his side for more comfort. What was he going to do? What if something horrible had already happened to Miguel and he was sitting idle? Would Miguel be expecting him to come to his rescue?
He swallowed harshly against the sour substance building in the back of his throat. He would have to come up with an escape plan for Miguel, if all didn't go well with Zong,i that wouldn't get him into trouble. His stomach lurched and he moaned softly in pain. This pain was worse than his medicated nausea and for a moment, he thought he should take Folken's pills. Then he cringed at the dependency he'd developed for the drugs in such a short period of time.
He was so weak...what would she think of him?
She?
Celena. He tried to pull up a memory of her, one other than the recollection of her in the Sorcerers' lab stroking his hair. He knew he'd had more contact with her; he could feel it that he had. He wondered if he could undo whatever the Sorcerers had done to his mind and access his memories in his wakeful state. He knew he could do it in dreams; maybe he could discover a way to make himself remember one of those dreams.
Another wave of pain and dizziness washed over him, and he happily let his conscious awareness fade in favor of the black bliss sleep gave him.
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Van descended the steps of the torch lit dungeon purposefully. He wanted to talk with Avenger alone, before any priest of Freid interrogated him. Millerna had done a remarkable job on Allen, and the knight had made it through the surgery, though he was still recovering. He'd sat up straight for the first time since he'd regained consciousness to take Prince Chid's little arm in his large hand and told him Zaibach was going to attack the country. The small Prince, who looked suspiciously like a mix of Princess Millerna and Allen himself, had been shocked beyond words, but he'd nodded and went on to tell his advisors the warning Allen had given him. That was when Van learned of Plaktu, the priest coming to question Avenger in the absence of Chid's father, the Duchy.
Van found he liked the little prince. He was cute and very kind. He hoped that kindness survived into his adult years. He had no idea what the boy's father was like, but he hoped he was a nice man.
He walked past empty cells, until he found the one occupied by the arrogant Dragonslayer. Avenger sat with his knees to his chest staring fruitlessly at the stone wall before him. He didn't even turn at Van's approaching footsteps, "Is Zaibach coming to attack Freid?"
Silence.
"What do they want?"
Quiet.
Van smirked at Avenger's stony silence. He knew his first questions wouldn't be answered so easily, but he knew a way to get the boy to talk. "Do you think your leader will come to rescue you, or is he too afraid to face me again? Will he let you rot here, because he is too much of a coward to..."
Van actually took a step back as Avenger threw himself at the metal bars caging him, his handsome face a mask of fury, "Do not ever speak of Captain Albatou in that way again, or so help me the moment I get access to a sword I'll slit you from navel to nose!"
"I knew you could talk!" Van's smirk grew wider. "What was your name again? It starts with an 'M,' I believe."
The Dragonslayer's eyes narrowed dangerously and Van jumped back, thinking the soldier was about to spit on him. "My name is of no importance to you, your majesty," the boy said acridly. "I suggest you leave now, for you will get no information from me. You may as well execute me now , because I will be of little use to you."
"A priest is coming that will be able to make you speak, even if you don't want to," Van said coyly, his ever-present smile growing more. "A perfect stranger is going to know everything about you in mere minutes. I could spare you the embarrassment, if you'd just answer a few questions for me."
Avenger studied him for a bit, cocking his head slightly. He opened his mouth as if he were going to start talking, and Van leaned forward in anticipation. Suddenly, Avenger wore a smirk of his own; he chuckled as he went to sit back in his original position and stared at the wall again.
Damn.
"Fine, have it your way then," Van breathed. "But I'll have you to know, we already know your troops are planning to invade Freid. I simply wanted to ask you about your commander. Is he... how does he fare? I hurt him, and I would like to know....did it leave a mark?"
The Slayer shut his eyes and did not open them.
"Surely you can tell me that without violating some soldier's code!" Van demanded of the stubborn prisoner.
"Are you asking me so you that you may brag about what you've done, or because you feel guilty for doing it?" Avenger's voice was low and his eyes were still closed.
Van gulped, "I...feel... guilty. I shouldn't have done it. I wasn't trying to hurt him, just disarm him. He was going to kill me, and I couldn't let him do that. I was clumsy. I could see he was not well. I didn't want to fight him."
"Only kill him in his sleep," Avenger remarked bitterly.
"No..." Van said. "I...I couldn't... I wasn't going to. I didn't think I'd have to. I thought you all would just give into my demands, and I would be able to let him go later. Things got so out of hand..."
"And you expect me to be understanding about it? You could have killed my commander, twice. You've brought him great pain. For that, I cannot forgive you, nor spare you the sharp blade of my tongue. Leave now Fanelia, I have nothing more to say to you. I shall take my chances with this...priest."
Van's shoulders stiffened. "I know it doesn't mean anything to you, but I told him I was sorry. I don't know if he heard me or understood me if he did."
Avenger was silent.
"Fine." Van left the damn cell feeling worse than he had when he'd come in, but really, what had he been expecting? He wanted to hear about Dilandau and his well-being, he wanted to hear his brother's plans, but he would get to listen to neither. Perhaps, if he offered the boy his freedom... That would never work out. Prince Chid had named him a friend of Freid and going around breaking out war prisoners was not a good way to sustain a friendship, or at least, that is what he'd heard from others.
He passed one of the large, bald soldiers of Freid who nodded at him solemnly. No, the best thing he could do to sustain this friendship was to stay on task. According to Allen, Zaibach was going to attack the country. He couldn't think of how the enemy was faring, after all, that was how Allen had gotten hurt. He had tried to fight the addiction, in fact the only reason why he hadn't question Avenger earlier was because of the inner struggle. He needed to forget about Dilandau, and his guilt, and his...obsession. It was becoming unhealthy for all parties involved.
He needed to be able to fight Zaibach, to fight Dilandau, without hesitation, and the first step he was going to take would be learning how to see through their invisibility cloaks as Hitomi could.
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"Have you had word from the doppleganger yet, Folken?" Dilandau walked into the white examining room of the clinic glaring at the red-haired medic Marie as she grinned at him in greeting. "He should be in Freid by now."
Folken raised the syringe he held to eye level, tapping it lightly and checking for air bubbles. "It would be too perilous for Zongi to risk communication with the Vione now. Trust that he knows how to do his job, Dilandau."
"I can't. I didn't train him," Dilandau grumbled. He looked from both Folken to Marie, "What do you want me to do?"
"Sit down on the table there," Marie instructed kindly. "I want to monitor your pulse at rest."
"It's going to be erratic, no matter what," Dilandau informed her.
"Why's that?" Marie asked as she shined a light into his eyes. "Normal pupil dilation," she told Folken before nodding at Dilandau to answer.
Dilandau scowled at her, "Shouldn't you already know? I haven't been taking that crap you and Folken created, and I'm feeling withdrawal effects."
"Dilandau!" Folken nearly dropped the syringe he held. He knew something had been off about the boy, but when he asked, Dilandau always avoided the question. "I told you to tell me about fluctuations in your well-being. Withdrawal can be dangerous."
Dilandau shrugged off Folken's ire, "I've just been really nauseous and my head hurts; it's nothing serious."
Folken bit back a growl, not wanting his frustration to be so apparent. He laid a hand on the pale boy's forehead, relaxing a bit when he detected no sign of fever. The boy's skin was at an average temperature.
"You've been doing a good job at keeping your tension level under control, Captain," Marie commented after applying a blood pressure cuff and writing down the readings. "We may not need to come up with a new treatment. Captain Albatou shows that when consciously aware of it, he can keep his emotions in check. Maybe we can just lower the dosage."
Dilandau frowned, "But the medication dulls my senses..."
"It won't as much, in smaller doses," Marie countered. "Lord Dilandau, you cannot just stop taking the product. Your body has gotten used to its regulations, and you're going to start feeling worse if you continue to veer from the treatments. It would be better if you started taking the medicine again like you had been, and gradually, we will reduce the dosages. It's the healthiest choice you have."
Dilandau was shaking his head, "It's a choice I can't make. I can't..."
"Dilandau, this is your life," Folken said solidly. "Every day you go without taking the capsules, you put yourself at risk. Do you remember how close to having a heart attack you were a little more than a week ago? Do you remember how horrible you felt? Do you want all of that to return? Are you ready to relive the loss of control you experienced?"
Dilandau's eyes brightened before losing their intensity; he lowered his head before uttering, "No."
"Then you'll listen to me when I tell you what you have to do to remain healthy," Folken said briskly. He didn't like having to remind Dilandau of unpleasant things and having to scare him into submission, but certain measures were necessary when it came to Dilandau at times. "I'm going to draw some blood; relax your left arm."
"So what of the Sorcerers? Have you learned anything new of Celena?" Dilandau asked. He obeyed Folken and relaxed his arm.
Folken rubbed the pale area down with an antiseptic after massaging the tender skin at the inner side of his elbow for a good vein to tap into. He had done some further research on the being known as Celena and had come up with some shocking results. He learned that the girl was still in the custody of the Madoushi and undoubtably still alive, but when he'd tried to investigate that lead further, he was blocked from the current files. A new project was underway and it was apparently so top-secret, that the Strategos didn't have the authority to see it. He prayed they were not performing another Fate Alteration on the girl, although, he could see the logical reasoning behind it if they did. Celena had produced Dilandau, one of the most brilliant and effective Alterations they had ever accomplished. Maybe they had isolated the mistake made in Dilandau's process and were working to create another military genius. What would they do with Dilandau then? Folken shuddered to think that they might try to dispose of him if they were successful with another prototype.
He hated thinking of Dilandau as a science project...a tool... but, in essence, he was. He didn't want to frighten Dilandau, so he figured he would not tell him that he supposed another Fate Alteration might be taking place, but there was also another bit of information Folken was debating on keeping to himself. Since he couldn't hack into the new files on Celena, he had accessed her old ones. There really hadn't been much he hadn't already known; the Madoushi files went on and one about chemical changes and Celena's progress, the creation and development of Dilandau, and so on... but somewhere in the document someone had slipped. Very early in the files, when Celena had first been acquired, she had given a last name to her abductors. That last name had been documented for the record, but later deleted in all accounts except for one.
Folken had blinked at the name, recognizing it immediately and growing cold as he realized he should have seen it. It was pure hindsight bias, he knew, but Dilandau slightly resembled the man... Celena's last name was Schezar, and since Schezar wasn't a common name, Folken knew she was kin to the Knight Caeli, Allen.
It seemed to be an amazing coincidence, but as Folken already knew, simple coincidences didn't happen in Zaibach. Everything was done for a reason, but did Folken really want to find out what that reason was?
Dilandau flinched as the needle penetrated his flesh. Folken had tried to be as gentle as possible, "Celena is alive and still with the Madoushi, Dilandau."
Dilandau moved suddenly, turning to face Folken and jostling the needle Folken held. "Dilandau, don't move!" Folken was already staring at the bloody mess the boy had created. The needle had ruptured the vein and blood was spilling onto the table. "Marie..."
"I've got it," Marie held the syringe in place while Folken grabbed a stack of gauze pads to press against the torn vein to staunch the bleeding.
"Is she ok, Folken? What are they doing to her? I doubt they are just letting her stay with them. They are probably making her do something awful. Is there anyway we could request for her to be brought here?"
"I can't access her files Dilandau; they're classified," Folken applied direct pressure to the wound as the third gauze pad he pressed against it soaked through with blood. He frowned, "Marie, the blood's not clotting. Slowly pull the syringe out and lets elevate his arm."
Once the needle was removed and Dilandau's arm was raised above his heart, more blood escaped. Folken was quick to adjust the gauze, making a pressure bandage, and to apply more napkins over the old ones as they became soiled. "Try a pressure point."
Folken watched Marie roll Dilandau's sleeve up over his shoulder blades and press with one hand firmly against the brachial artery.
"But you're the Strategos, things shouldn't be classified from you? They're doing something they don't want you to know about, and that can't be good. They're hurting her," Dilandau seemed oblivious to his current dilemma.
"Folken, are you sure you got a vein and not an artery? Veins don't bleed like this, and the blood shouldn't be this bright of a red," Marie stared at the soaked bandages. It had been 10 minutes; the blood flow should have at least slowed.
Folken was certain he'd chosen a vein, "It was a vein."
"We might have to make a tourniquet. How are you feeling, Captain?" Marie asked, still pressing his brachial artery located on his underarm against the bone.
"Maybe if you could get her location, I could just go..."
"Shhh...Dilandau. You asked me to find her for you and I have. Until she's released from Madoushi custody, there is nothing more we can do," Folken stared at the blood still seeping through the cotton. "We'll have to make a tourniquet; the bleeding isn't slowing. Dilandau, do not worry about Celena; she is still of use to the Sorcerers. Are you light-headed?"
"Still of use... like I'm still of use," Dilandau murmured.
Marie released the pressure point and grabbed a pressure bandage to wrap twice just above Dilandau's elbow tightly and then tied an overhand knot. She then placed a plastic tongue depressor on the overhand knot and tied two overhand knots on top of it. "Folken, I'm going to twist it."
Folken placed two fingers to Dilandau's neck to check his pulse. It was elevated, as was his respiration. "Dilandau, if there is anything I can do to help her, I will do it. Right now, your well-being is what I'm primarily concerned about, not hers. Think about yourself for a change. How do you feel?"
Dilandau blinked, his complexion was waning and his eyelids were drooping. "Tired. What...did you do? Is all of this blood mine?"
"Yes it is," Folken said, applying another pad and sighing in relief when it didn't soak through with blood. "It's stopped, Marie."
Marie secured the depressor with a torn strip of gauze and made note of the time. "Dammit, we should have been more prepared for this. His red and white blood cell counts have been lower than what is average, as has been his platelet volume. We were too optimistic, Folken."
"What are you talking about?" Dilandau's voice was soft as he allowed himself to rest against Folken's offered support. "What's wrong with me now?"
"It's a side effect of the medication, Dilandau. Do not worry about it; we'll treat it."
"The best treatment would be a blood transfusion, or maybe even a bone marrow transplant...but it would take some time to find an adequate match. Chemical treatment seems the most plausible right now, but I don't want to give him any more medication," Marie sighed.
Folken agreed with not wanting to inject any more foreign chemicals into Dilandau's bloodstream. They'd done enough already, but it was the best option they had. It could take months to find a worthy blood or bone marrow donor. He thought briefly on requesting fortune blood, but he had no idea how Dilandau would react to such a process. The shock alone might kill him. He patted the boy's back gently as more of his weight was pressed into his body.
"Hold his arm steady Folken; I'm going to loosen the tourniquet."
Folken nodded and held Dilandau still as Marie untied the depressor and loosened the tourniquet. No more blood escaped, and they both sighed. "I'll wrap it all up," Marie volunteered.
"This is a problem. We can't cease his current treatment without acute withdrawal affects, but the treatment is causing his current condition of aplastic anemia. I think we've made a mistake, but it seemed the best route at the time."
"It probably still is the best route. He couldn't continue on like he was; this can be treated. We'll use drugs, until we can find a matching donor. Meaning: we'll have to tap into the Zaibach health records and look at everyone's blood type. Maybe we'll be lucky, and one of his men will share his same blood type," Marie said carefully. She checked Dilandau's pulse and respiration, then slid a thermometer under his tongue. "One of the Dragonslayers should be summoned to come and collect him, then put him to bed. We, my dear Strategos, have more work to do."
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Viole and Dallet carefully led their tipsy leader back to his room after they received summons from the Strategos. They tucked him into bed and blew out his lantern. "He's just getting worse," Viole whispered to Dallet as they left the room. "I don't think the Strategos knows what he's doing anymore. He's just trying things."
Dallet sighed in agreement, "I wish they would tell us what's wrong. I don't know anything about medicine, but maybe I could learn. We could help them look for things. How hard could research be for real? I bet anyone could do it."
Viole chuckled colorlessly, "Don't belittle the work of geniuses Dallet. We'll leave the science to Folken and other weirdos who understand that stuff. I just... think Lord Dilandau's got something no one's heard of yet. That happens on occasion. You know, like all those diseases we read about in history, where millions of people die before anyone gets even a slight inkling of what may be wrong with them?"
"Gods Viole, don't say that! When did you get so morbid?" Dallet gave the wavy haired boy a playful shove. "Cheer up. I'll even let you tell me a joke. Come on, I bet you've come up with tons since the last time you... you insulted Miguel."
Viole's eyes glistened a bit and shook his head, "No, not really Dallet. It's hard to make up jokes to irritate Miguel when there's no Miguel around to irritate. He's so funny. I mean, I make up jokes about you guys, and you roll your eyes and shrug them off. I make up jokes about Miguel, and he gets all huffy and pissy. It's inspiring to see my jokes stir such emotion in someone else, even if its not the desired reaction. I kind of want him to laugh, just once."
Dallet smirked, "The day Miguel Lavariel laughs at himself is the day one of the nine hells freezes over."
"I thought there were only seven," Viole frowned. "Hmm... I learn new things everyday."
Dallet laughed and ruffled Viole's hair, "Lets go tell the others Lord Dilandau's all right, and that we're going to have to change our rescue plans. Lord Dilandau won't be joining us."
"You gonna tell Lord Dilandau that when the time comes tomorrow?" Viole raised an eyebrow.
"Hell no, you're gonna tell him. He likes you."
"Not as much as he likes you," Viole argued, then looked serious. "Do you really think we're going to have to break Miguel out ourselves?"
"You trust dopplegangers?" Dallet asked.
"No."
"Then yes, I think we're going to have to get Miguel back ourselves. The kid may be arrogant, conceited, annoying, and pig-headed, but...that's why we love him," Dallet said. "We look after our own...we'd even go in after you, Viole."
"Well that's...hey!"
"Come on, before Shesta decides we've gotten lost and comes to see about Lord Dilandau himself."
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Miguel heard the deep voices of two older men conversing outside of his cell. One man asked to be left alone with him, and Miguel shuddered. Plaktu had undoubtably arrived to question him.
He couldn't say a word, not a single word. He wouldn't even look at him. Footsteps. The sound of hard-bottomed sandals striking the stone floor made him cringe as it grew nearer. There was a soft wrap on the metal bars, and Miguel fought not to turn his head and look at his latest guest.
"You must be Miguel," the man said, and Miguel froze. How would the man have known his name? No one here did, not even Van. He had spoken of his identity to no one. Slowly his head turned to gaze at the large bald man dressed in the bright orange priestly robes of Freid. "I have been sent by Lord Folken. I've come to help you."
Miguel blinked and slid closer to the bars to stare at the strange man. He hadn't known there were Zaibach spies in Freid. He narrowed his eyes; it could easily be a trick. "Who are you?"
"I am Zongi, and in order to complete my mission, I will need your complete cooperation. Lord Dilandau will be extremely displeased if anything happens to you, so you must listen to me."
Lord Dilandau... Miguel shut his eyes briefly, then opened them. "How do I know I can trust you?"
"You have been trained well, young Dragonslayer. You don't know if you can trust me. You can test me all you like to see how much I know about Zaibach, but none of your questions could prove me worthy. You'll have to go by your instinct, but I'll let you know now, you will not stand in the way of my mission. My first priority is to protect the interest of Zaibach, so I will need to invalidate any warning Allen Schezar may bring to Freid against Zaibach. I will have your cooperation in that task whether it be voluntary or involuntary, understand? My second priority is your life, and you are the one who will make the decision of whether you live or die. Do you wish to escape?"
"Yes."
"Then you will trust me. Now, tell me everything you have learned about the Escaflowne and the knight Allen Schezar. What all transpired in your last battle?"
Miguel stared into the abysmal black eyes of the priest standing before, shivering, in spite of himself, at their soullessness. Something told him this man wasn't what he seemed to be and that his very life did hang in the balance if he didn't behave. There was still a chance it was a ruse, but his gut instinct told him it was not. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak. His voice was low and shaky, but try as he might he couldn't squeeze the fear out of it. This man's eyes told of death; his body reeked of it. He'd been held in enemy custody for days, but only then did he begin to fear his own death for he was looking it right in the face.
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*~* AN: Dum, Dum, Dum!! Hehehehehee!! So, will I kill Miguel, or will I keep him around? I haven't quite decided yet... Well, actually I have; I'm just not telling . Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah! Muhahahaha!! Thank you for reading and please, please review!
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Reviewer Responses:
Rita: Eh, writing reviewer responses won't slow my updates, and I do want to. I just didn't want to seem like I was copying other people. I'm glad you like how I portray Celena. In most of the stories I read, she is written to be rather girly. I must admit I am one of the people who watch the series and get mad everytime it is discovered Dilandau is...a woman. And when he reverted back to Celena for good, the first thing she did was faint! I hated that, because I just thought it was strange for someone like Dilandau to have been born from that. There had to be something in her that could have contributed to his personality a bit, so I came up with Amazon Celena ( and she's fun). I'm glad you like the chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one as well. Thanks for reviewing!
Nikku: Well, this chapter isn't as long as the others. I hope you aren't too disappointed, but I think the length of the chapters are scaring potential readers away, lol. Sorry you don't like my mean, nasty Celena. Hehehe, you are going to think I'm crazy, but my favorite characters in anime usually fit that category (Dilandau, Lady Une from Gundam Wing, Lady Kayura from Ronin Warriors, ect). In order to make Dilandau a character for people to sympathize with, I made him a little nicer, but when you tip one side of the scale down, the other goes up; Celena had to be meaner. Glad you like the mothering scenes with the Slayers; they are so much fun to write. You'll see what Dilandau will decide to do with Folken's medicine (hehehe) and as for Miguel and the Dragonslayers.... That's for me to know ;) Thanks for reviewing and I hope you like this next chapter.
Biatchmaspaz: Geez, could your name be any harder to spell without looking at it, lol! Well, I took your advice and broke the chapter up. You like? So, let me get this straight: if I kill Miguel and the other slayers, you're going to gut me with your little pocket knife? Well, I got a big dog and a mashettit, if you can get past them, you're welcome to try...MUHAHAHAHA! But who says I'll kill them? Guess you'll just have to read and find out. Thanks for reviewing chica!
Nat: College is rather overwhelming, isn't it? Especially when every teacher you have assumes their class is the only one you are taking. Well, I hope this update was soon enough for you, lol. I'm going to try to keep my updates regular from now on. When I was working on this story during the summer I used to update once a week, lol I don't know if I'll be able to do that again...but twice a month is a good goal, huh? I'm glad you like the story, and thanks for reviewing!
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You guys can e-mail me anytime at gremlioni@aol.com . And don't forget to review! ;) Take care!