Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Ashes and Remembrance ❯ Prologue/Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Vision of Escaflowne or any of the characters related to it. I do however claim the rights to all original characters appearing in this work of fiction. This work is solely for entertainment purposes only.

Note: Chapter One begins approximately twelve to fifteen months after Folken's arrival in Zaibach.

ASHES AND REMEMBRANCE

PROLOGUE

She opened her eyes to darkness. What happened? Why is it so quiet? Where am I? Wincing, she lifted her hands and felt around -- her hands met buttons and levers. Where . . . think . . . I'm inside a guymelef. I have to get out of here. I have to find the . . . the commander -- yes, the commander. But . . . who? Before she could continue any further, the darkness claimed her once again.

Sunlight slanted through the guymelef's visor. The bright rays burned the light-colored eyes that slowly opened. Where . . . the battle? Her head throbbed. Painfully she lifted her hands to her head. The fingers of her left hand met with a slight stickiness and as she pulled her hand back, she saw the blood. She started to remember bits and pieces: The battle -- yes, we were fighting . . . I remember getting hit -- but how long? She could see that she was still inside the guymelef. I need to get out of here. I need to . . . to what? Why can't I remember?

Forcing her aching body to move, she felt for the controls that would open the guymelef's visor. Please work. Her hand found a lever. Is this the right one? Her mind was still a little foggy, but she knew that it was. Pushing the lever forward, she heard the sudden release of air pressure as the visor slowly opened and she cried out as the sunlight washed over her. Gods, it's so bright. I can't see. Raising her hands to shield her sensitive eyes, she felt a wave of nausea come over her. She sat still and waited for the sick feeling to pass.

She wasn't sure if she lost consciousness again, but it was still daylight when she became aware again. Slowly she dropped her hands and blinked her eyes, but the sun no longer seemed as bright. I have to get down to the ground. She didn't want to think of the pain that moving was going to cause. Biting her lip, she grasped the side of cockpit and tried to pull herself forward. She cried out as her bruised body moved. Just a little more -- please, just a little more. Trying again, she got the top half of her body out. Now just slide forward . . . it's not that far down. One more push and she was sliding down to the waiting ground. She gasped as the breath was knocked from her chest. Breathing heavily, she managed to push herself up on her hands and knees and look around.

Around her was carnage -- wreckage and death -- the remnants of guymelefs, weapons, levi-ships and worse, men. The sickly-sweet stench of death reached her and she started to gag. How long has it been? How long was I out? I have to get away from here -- I have to get away! I need to find . . . water. Yes, I need to find some water. She realized that she was suddenly very thirsty. Okay body, it's time to get up. Taking several deep breaths, she slowly started the process of getting to her feet. It took some time to get up and even then she had to stand for several minutes trying to catch her breath. I must have broken a rib or something. It's so hard to breath. I need to find some water and then I need to find . . . what? I need to find someone. But . . . I can't think. What's wrong with me? I can't remember, why I can't remember.

It was dark by the time she stumbled across the small stream. She had long since become numb to the death and destruction that surrounded her. When she reached the muddy bank, she dropped to her knees and stuck her whole head in the water. Oh gods, the smell. Why does my head hurt so much? Lifting her head, she took several deep breaths. Cupping her hands, she drank until she thought she would burst. Splashing a few more handfuls of water on her face, she sat back on her heels. What am I doing here? How do I get home? Home -- where? She had an image of a small windowless room with a single cot, then of a large house with climbing white flowers. Is that home? I don't know. She put her head in her hands and felt the tears as they slipped through her fingers. Why can't I remember? What's wrong with me? Crying, she let the darkness take her once again.

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Voices -- she heard voices. Am I dreaming -- or dying? Probably both. Then she heard the voices again. They're real! There are people here!

Opening her eyes, she saw that it was daylight once again. She tried to lift her head and call out; but what came out of her throat was not so much a recognizable word, as an almost animal-like cry. She tried again and almost formed what she thought might be a recognizable "help." Please, please let them hear me.

"Hey, Dorsman! Over here, I thought I heard something."

"C'mon Mikel, it's been three days. The only things here are dead men. Hey, maybe it was a ghost."

Please let them hear me. She managed to roll over on her back and tried to call out again. Please gods, let them hear me!

"Did you hear that? There is someone alive. Quick -- I think it was over by the stream."

"Look -- there! The one in gray -- he's moving!"

"Gods -- it's . . . it's a girl!"

"Hold on a minute. Look at the uniform -- it's Zaibach -- some Zaibach scum. Let her rot."

"No, we have to take her back. Any prisoners are to be taken to the garrison - those are the orders. Go call for a litter."

She looked up, but all she could see was a pale blur where the man's face should be. "Hold on girl -- hold on. We'll try to get you some help. Who are you? What's your name?"

My name . . . my name is . . . what is my name? Why can't I remember? My name is . . .

ONE

"Folken!" The voice pulled him back. "Folken, are you alright?" He knew that voice -- it was Coren's voice. Slowly, Folken Lacour opened his eyes. Yes -- there was Coren looking down at him and he could see the concern on the other man's face. Folken blinked and looked around -- he saw that he was on his knees, his sword lying on the ground beside him. "Yes -- I'm alright -- I think. I just felt light-headed for a moment," he replied slowly. "I think I just need to sit for a few minutes."

"Here Coren, give him some water and let him rest. You shouldn't work him so hard." Folken looked up to see Jindra coming towards him with a canteen. She had removed her fencing mask and sheathed her sword in the harness across her back. She handed the water to him and then bent to pick up his fallen sword. She knelt down beside him, her silver-gray eyes wide with fear and concern. Folken took several long sips from the canteen and handed it back to her.

"Are you sure you're alright? You do look a bit pale. Maybe we should quit for the day," Jindra said as she handed Folken his sword. "It's really warm today -- too warm to slinging swords around anyway. Besides I could use some extra study time this afternoon," she said almost as an afterthought.

"C'mon Jin, haven't you read every book in the house ten times already. All you do is study." Coren said.

"Maybe you should try reading sometime. That is if you can get anything to stick inside that thick skull of yours," she retorted. Folken sighed and sheathed his sword. It looked like fencing practice was over now as Coren and Jindra started arguing between themselves.

Anyone passing by would recognize them as brother and sister, for they had the same coloring: dark reddish-brown hair, fair skin and light eyes. Although there was a physical resemblance, the two had very distinct personalities. Coren may have been the oldest, but Jindra was the more mature of the two. Where her brother had a very open and spontaneous nature, Jindra was more cautious and reserved. But she also had quite a temper and could be very stubborn at times. Coren took great pride in his ability to bait his sister and Jindra fell into his traps every time. Knowing that such arguments were usually short-lived, Folken sat quietly and watched the two.

Coren was awaiting his graduation from one of Zaibach's most prestigious military academies and was anxious for his first assignment. He was considered to be quite handsome, and he knew it. Not that he was overly vain; but he certainly knew how to turn on the charm whenever necessary. Apparently there were many young ladies in the city who had lost their hearts to the sweet smile and sparkling blue eyes of Coren Roh. Coren was also considered to be one of the finest swordsmen in the city and that was why Folken had sought him out and asked him to teach him left-handed combat. It was well known that the outlander was a particular favorite of the emperor and Coren would do everything in his power to make sure that Folken was properly trained; if only to keep his own reputation in tact. Coren's easy going manner and sense of humor reminded Folken a little of his brother, Van, and he was grateful for the man's friendship in this strange city.

After working with Folken for a few weeks, Coren had invited his sister to join them as a sparring partner. Although initially more cautious than her brother, Jindra had been intrigued by Folken's arrival in Zaibach. She had a natural curiosity about the other lands and kingdoms of Gaea. She had tried to ask Folken about his homeland several times only to be curtly rebuffed and so she had let the matter drop. She thought that perhaps the loss of his right arm had caused Folken to leave his home. She was saddened by the thought that such a thing could be true and hoped the friendship that she and Coren offered would help heal some of the sadness and loneliness that she could sense within him.

Folken at first found it very odd to have Jindra join them in the fencing lessons; but he soon discovered that she was quite skilled. Apparently she and Coren had been practicing for years; and although she had no interest in combat, she liked the concentration and skill that fencing required. Jindra was also one of the few non-military women that Folken had seen in the city that wore trousers. They were usually tucked into a pair of boots with a longer, dress-like garment over the top. The skirt of the over-dress was slit up the sides to make movement easier. While Coren followed the current fashion and kept his hair long and pulled into a tail at his nape, Jindra had her hair cut short. It was cut in such a way that it framed her face and accented her eyes. She would never be called beautiful, but she was a pretty girl. She also had a very giving nature and a concern for others that was quite genuine. Sometimes, Folken thought, it was almost as if she could sense other people's feelings and unspoken thoughts. Much to his dismay, Folken had found himself drawn to her quiet, gentle manner. More than once, he had found his gaze following her. Whenever they were together, he seemed to feel a small measure of comfort and acceptance that helped ease his loneliness. Coren and Jindra were unlike anyone else he had met in Zaibach thus far.

Folken found their openness and acceptance of him quite unusual. Coren had laughed and told him that his family was considered by many to be quite odd. For starters, their mother was from Asturia; the daughter of a very rich and powerful merchant family. ("Second only to the Fassa family," Coren had said somewhat proudly.) Her family had been scandalized over her wish to marry someone from Zaibach. "But being the businessman that my grandfather is, he couldn't resist the thought of the trade that could be done between his family and the Empire. So of course he eventually consented and the rest, as they say, is history."

Yet despite his parents love for one another, Coren's mother never could resign herself to living in Zaibach; and so she returned to Asturia for lengthy visits whenever possible. She would often bring her children with her, but only Jindra came to love Asturia as much as her mother. Jindra wanted nothing more than to live in Palas, the capital, and attend the university there. Their mother also supported Jindra in her wish to live in Palas, but for a different reason. "If Jin were in Palas, it would be a lot easier for my mother to arrange a marriage for her with one of the other merchant families or perhaps a knight from one of the better families at court," Coren had confided in him. "Although Jin won't have any of it of course -- you'd think she'd want to get married and have someone take care of her. Isn't that what women want?"

As Folken watched the two of them argue back and forth, he felt a tug at his own heart. That could be Van and I, he thought. For despite how things looked now between Jindra and Coren, Folken knew that they were very close and devoted to one another. Just like Van and I used to be, he mused. With a sigh, Folken pushed those thoughts from his mind and stood up.

The two stopped their argument as he walked the few steps towards them. "Sorry, but I think I should go back to my quarters for a while. I'll meet you here tomorrow, if that's okay."

"Sure, but . . . look Folken, are you sure you're up to this yet?" Coren asked. "I mean -- I know that you want to learn how to handle a sword with your left hand, but . . . you really shouldn't push yourself. We've only been practicing for a few months; but maybe it's still too early. Besides, I'm the one that will catch it if something happens to you." Folken saw the slightly uncomfortable look on the other man's face as he finished.

"Coren, how insensitive can you be?" Jindra interrupted. "You have all the tact of a horse's ass! I can't believe you sometimes." Before her brother could reply, Jindra pulled Folken by his sleeve and started to lead him away; gathering up their practice gear as she did so. "C'mon Folken, I'll walk back part of the way with you. We'll let Mr. High and Mighty Lieutenant get on with his very busy military career."

"Jin," Coren called out as they started towards the park path, "let mother know that I probably won't be able to come for dinner tonight. All of us High and Mighty Lieutenants have to meet with the academy commandant tonight," he said with a laugh. "I'll see you tomorrow."

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"I'm sorry, Folken. Sometimes I'm embarrassed to be seen with him," Jindra said as they came to the main path that wound through the large city park. She handed him his fencing mask and adjusted the ratty old black satchel that hung off her shoulder. Folken knew that the bag held her sketch pad, pencils and at least two or three books that she was currently reading; Jindra never went anywhere without that leather bag. "He really does mean well, but obviously he wasn't paying attention when our mother tried to teach him some manners."

"It's alright, Jindra. I'm sure that teaching me has put a lot of pressure on him. But I was told that your brother was one of the best swordsmen in the city. I know that I'm pushing myself, but it's the only way. I have to learn to do everything with my left hand now -- writing and sword-handling especially."

Jindra heard the sadness in his voice as he spoke. "Well yes, I know; but from what Coren told me, you almost died. You really shouldn't push yourself so hard." As if realizing what she had just said, Jindra looked away and Folken could see the slight blush that crept over her face. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to bring everything up. Sometimes I'm no better than Coren."

"It's okay; I know you're curious. If you want to ask me about this metal monstrosity, then go right ahead." Folken said as they stopped walking and he held out his right arm. Gleaming in the sunlight under his sleeve was the mechanical arm that the Zaibach sorcerers had grafted onto his shoulder. Yes, the sorcerers saved my life, but at what cost? What have they made me? Am I something less than human now?

Folken saw the look that passed across Jindra's face: a mix of pity, fear and curiosity. She shook her head and looked up at him. "No, Folken. I know that it's still hard for you to talk about it -- I can see it in your face. But I'm willing to listen whenever you're ready -- if you want someone to talk to." Blushing again, Jindra turned back towards the path and silently they continued walking.

When they reached the wrought iron gate at the entrance to the park, the pair stopped. Jindra looked down the street and up towards the dark tower that rose into the sky -- the sorcerer's tower. It was a place that parents used to frighten children, "You better behave before they come and take you to the tower," the old nanny used to warn Jindra and Coren when they had misbehaved. If a building could have an evil reputation, then the sorcerer's tower had it. The stories that people told about those that lived there and what they did, used to keep her up at night as a child and afraid to sleep; just looking at it now -- even from this distance -- sent a shiver down her spine. Jindra never thought that she would actually know someone who lived in it. She still couldn't believe that Folken was going to be a sorcerer.

"Try to take it easy, Folken. You're still healing; you should try to give your body time to recover," Jindra cautioned as she turned to face him. "I know that you want to do everything as you did before -- but you have to take it a little easier until you get all your strength back." Folken could see the genuine concern in her eyes and he was touched by it. What is it about her? Why does she make me feel so . . . I don't know, like she knows what's in my heart?

Folken felt himself growing a little uncomfortable under Jindra's gaze and he tried to hide it with humor. "Yes doctor," he said with a smile and a formal bow.

"Now don't you start, Folken! Coren is bad enough lately -- I don't need you on me too."

"Sorry Jindra, but I couldn't resist."

"Well . . . alright, apology accepted."

"Thank you, my lady." Folken bowed again.

"Folken!" He watched the blush that crept across her cheeks as she dropped her eyes. Now I've embarrassed her . . . she probably thinks I'm the world's biggest fool. Feeling his own embarrassment set in, Folken fidgeted with his fencing mask, turning it over in his hands. "I-I-I should be going . . . I'll see you tomorrow."

She looked up at the sound of his voice. "Uh . . . yes."

"Have a good evening Jindra," he replied with a small, sad smile as he turned up the street in the direction of the tower.

"You too, Folken." Jindra watched him walk away. I wonder what's wrong now -- one minute he's joking and the next he goes all quiet and sad again. Who knows - men! With a sigh, Jindra shook her head and then turned in the opposite direction for home.

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As Jindra continued down the street, she looked up at the city around her. Compared to Zaibach, Asturia and Palas seemed quite primitive. Here buildings made of metal, stone and glass rose into the sky. The constant hum of machinery meant that there was never a quiet moment. Everywhere you looked, you could see the science and technology of the emperor and his sorcerers. In her small travels outside the Empire, Jindra never saw anything to compare with the technological wonders of Zaibach. Yes, the emperor's science had made her homeland one of the most powerful countries on Gaea, but it had also made it one of the ugliest in her opinion. Even the parks within the city were different. Everything seemed so perfect and planned out; from the paths and gates, to the types of trees and flowers. It was beautiful, but it was a cold, unfeeling beauty.

Jindra thought back to the first time that she remembered going to Palas with her mother -- she had been four or five years old. She remembered the view from the levi-ship as they landed. She squealed with glee looking at the graceful towers, bridges and canals. Jindra thought that Palas was the most beautiful place she had ever seen. Everywhere that she went, she saw something new and wonderful. But as much as the city intrigued her, it was the ocean that had finally taken her breath away. As she had stood on the shore and looked out over the wide blue waters, she knew that there was where she belonged. She decided, that day, that Palas was the most wonderful place on all of Gaea and she was going to live there. She told her mother that she was never going back to "ugly old Zaibach" and that she wanted to stay in Palas. She remembered crying when they had eventually left to return home and she vowed that she would return one day for good. Since that time, she had returned to the Asturian capital for extended stays with her mother's many sisters and brothers. But each time that she returned home, she brought back a seashell, a piece of driftwood or some other artifact from the sea. She kept them in a box to remind her of Palas and of her vow to return there for good one day.

With a sigh, Jindra turned down the lane that led to her family's house. It's still early, she thought; plenty of time to study. But first she would have a bath and something to eat. As she entered the front door, she called out for her mother. As she waited for an answer, she noticed the mail lying on the table in the foyer. She picked up the envelopes and looked to see if there were any for her. Yes! There was a letter from Aunt Bethanne. Jindra knew that it was an invitation to come and stay with her in Palas. Quickly gathering up her things, Jindra headed up the stairs to her room.