Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Beyond the Moon ❯ Resurgence ( Chapter 16 )

Wow, I wrote this all in one sitting! I had really bad writer's block for the first half of the day, but once I got back from some babysitting class I had to take, everything came in a rush. This chapter's longer than usual, so enjoy! Also, if you haven't figured it out yet, I believe that Celena and Dilandau are two different people caught in one mind. ^_^

Beyond the Moon

Sixteen

"Hitomi," Chid began, "a lot of things have changed since the Destiny War. Freid regained control of the power spot, and the capital was rebuilt." I looked up at him, watching the various emotions play across his features. He looked so much like Allen it was frightening.

"I gave up a lot by coming here," he sighed, his step pausing momentarily beside me. I watched his features carefully as he closed his eyes, exhaling deeply.

He had grown only in body. His heart was still the same as it had once been; true and long beyond his physical years. His blonde hair was paler than Allen's, and had a much less dignified, but more down-to-earth look. It was no longer held in a rough ponytail, but lay around his neck and shoulders loosely. His blue eyes were not as innocent as they once were, and now bore the hardship of reconstructing the destroyed Duchy of Freid.

"Hitomi," he said, turning to face me. I slowly withdrew my arm, watching his expression change from sadness and regret to cold resolve.

"Yes, Duke Chid?" I said, using his formal title for the first time. His stern but heated gaze made me wary; eight rotations could change a person.

"Again, you hold the key to our survival," Chid said, his voice neutral but coarse. I raised my eyebrows, watching him curiously as he continued. He had yet to reveal his true intentions, I now realized. He was ready to tell me something, and I knew it wouldn't be good. "The power of Atlantis has taken on a life of its own. It re-emerged from the power spot; that's why I was involved in this plot. Not because of the doppelgangers," Chid admitted, suddenly drawing his intense gaze down to his feet.

I furrowed my brow. Had he been lying? What did this have to do with me? I was bursting with questions, and was becoming irritated. I wanted to know what was happening, and why it would warrant taking me from a perfectly decent excursion with Van!

"Keep yourself in check," Chid chastised, obviously catching the emotions flickering across my face as I opened my mouth to interrogate. I swiftly clamped my jaw, both angered and intrigued by the Duke's sudden change in tone. He watched me carefully, gauging my reaction to his assertive words.

"You can't avoid it this time," he began again. "The power has begun to corrupt, the power spot spreading. When you were in Asturia..." I shot him a look, daring him to continue by bringing me into his plans. I could see the gears moving in his head, and my resolve in trusting him was beginning to fade. But Chid ignored me, continuing unhindered. "Did you encounter anything strange? People acting out of the ordinary?"

I blinked, taken aback. "Just why do you want to know?" I retorted, surprising myself at my own lack of manners, and at obviously not well thought out question. He merely smiled a trademark Schezar smile, causing my heart to skip a beat. The likeness was beginning to make my skin break out in gooseflesh. His moods seemed to change as quickly as my own.

Suddenly, my mind wandered back to my visit in Palas. I slowly merged my more recent memories with my age-old ones from my first visit.

"The guards," I said suddenly, as if interrupting myself. "The guards weren't dressed as guards when they came out to meet us!"

I massaged my jaw, wiping some hair from my forehead. Chid watched me in earnest, waiting for me to continue. "The guards I remember - unless their uniforms have changed - wore more white, and looked more regal. I remember them wearing these silly hats with a red feather on top." I glanced up at the Duke, who nodded slowly and lifted his gaze from mine.

"They were dressed... more normally, I should say. The leader wore a red coat, and the others wore green. Those aren't Asturian colors, if I recount correctly," I concluded, closing my eyes as I puzzled.

"They aren't," Chid confirmed. "Did you speak with King Dryden while you were there?" I nodded slowly. "He was normal?"

"Yes, very much so. Aside from what you told me before about Millerna's behavior, Dryden seemed perfectly fine. We... we didn't see many other people beside the escort guards and the royal couple." I scratched my chin, looking up at him.

"That's what happened during the Destiny War, isn't it?" I asked, interrupting myself once more. Chid watched me, his lip curling into a smile at my sudden rush of chatter. It was even more amusing, most likely, because I was answering my own questions. "I remember. Van attacked his own ally! The countries... They were warring amongst each other for no reason."

This time, I was gripped by cold resolve. Right under my nose! How could I be so stupid? Well... Not even Van had noticed.

"If the power spot spreads," I said again, rubbing my chin, "the... Gaea will be plunged into war again. Senseless war!" I looked up, a wave of anger and hopelessness running through me. Chid merely watched me and nodded slowly.

"It seems you have figured it out for yourself. You always were so smart," he commented wistfully, smiling at me. He seemed like such a boy, but such a man at the same time. That whole crazy family never failed to surprise me. I smiled back, my brief annoyance, or misplaced mistrust, quickly disappearing.

His smile faded abruptly as he watched me, his eyes unreadable. "Hitomi..." I nodded my head, "you held, and still hold, the power of Atlantis. It does your will." I dropped my head to the ground. Some was true; I seemed to summon it at any time, will it to take me anywhere, but it was not mine to control.

I opened my mouth to argue, but he silenced me by suddenly placing a finger on my lips. I blinked, watching him. "I need you to help me. Only you can prevent another outbreak of war," he said, giving me a trusting gaze.

Before I could interject, Chid continued. "I have spoken with many others concerned, and I have been doing so since I finally allowed for you to be brought here to Hudogar. What I need from you is very simple."

I took his hand away from my face, depositing it at his side and drawing away. He watched me with interest, and I had to drop my gaze away from his. "Tell me what it is. I have to think about it," I responded simply.

"It is in the best interest of all involved," the Duke began, "that you remain here for some time. It is the only way I can ensure your safety. The power spot will spread, corrupting country after country, ruler after ruler. As of now, there are only two kingdoms that I can safely rely on. First, I need you to draw the power spot away from those countries." I stared at him, slowly swallowing all he told me.

"Countries like Asturia have already been taken. There is not much we can do for them beside remove the threat completely. After that, I need you to do something very, very special for me. But you must promise not to reveal anything of what I tell you, before I can tell you what you must do."

I looked up, examining him. Give up on Asturia? "What about Fanelia?" I asked out of impulse. Chid merely watched me.

"It will be infected soon. It involves that very country," he verified. "And it's ruler."

Van? "If it involves Van... If it will help Fanelia, I.. I promise."

***

"Damnit, you stupid knight!" Van cried, throwing grass on Allen, who struggled to awaken. "You fell asleep, you.. you.." he let out a frustrated growl, stomping away. The knight blinked, watching Van's retreating back.

"Wha..?" He rubbed his head, slowly getting to his feet. Sure enough, the sun had already risen to a decent hour of the morning. Van paced some ways off, growling in irritation and stopping every once in a while to give the gray stallion munching on grass nearby a nasty glare.

Lying near the tree the horse had once been tied to was a large leaf, filled with various gathered objects. Two apples, a few rotting berries, and some kind of dirty root lay on top, obviously waiting for someone to graciously take the meal. Allen raised one eyebrow, sighing as he felt his stomach grumble.

That food looked so good... The knight sighed, grabbing the apples. He tucked one into his jacket pocket, plopping the other into his mouth. If he was going to travel hard, he had to have some kind of nutrition.

He looked at the root, raising one eyebrow. Maybe it had some kind of food value, but there was no place in which to wash the dirt from it. Allen eyed the vegetable with scrutiny, before shrugging and taking another bite of the small, tangy apple.

"Come on, Van," Allen called, taking his horse by the reins. The king continued pacing, as if ignoring him.

The knight climbed onto the stallion, trotting up beside him. Before he could say another word, Van had vaulted up behind him and now clung to the saddle, startling the horse into a trot.

"Go. Now." His voice was strained and urgent, causing a shiver to run up Allen's spine. Whatever had crawled up Van's ass now came back, wanting full revenge for a lost night of travel. The knight nodded, spurring the refreshed horse into a gallop.

They continued on unfaltering for at least an hour, an uncomfortable silence reigning. Van kept his eyes darting back and forth, watching every movement, examining every tree they passed or every new cliff that rose above them. Allen merely stared absently at the road ahead, the horse's steady hoofbeat making soft sounds in the lush, green grass.

Suddenly, Allen let out a gasp. He reined the horse in, much to Van's irritation.

"What is it?" the king demanded, straining to look over Allen's shoulder.

Slightly shrouded in a misty fog, the white foam of a waterfall could be seen, rising high above the plain they now crossed. It tumbled from an immense cliff, the waters disappearing into pools below. Their distant roars could be heard, if the ears listened close enough.

"I know these waterfalls," Allen murmured, spurring the horse into another gallop. Van furrowed his brow.

"Then were are we?" he asked skeptically. The knight sighed, his head tilting as his gaze drifted up the mountain to one side of them.

"I don't know for sure," Allen said, brushing back some of his long, blonde hair. Van snorted. "But I have a strange feeling about them. Something has happened, or is going to happen here."

At that, Van let out a rough laugh. "You can be so..." he was at a loss for words to describe the knight, so merely continued laughing, his voice thick with mockery. Allen rolled his eyes, being sure to bump Van in the chest with his back as the horse's gait brought them into a swift lope.

***

"This place is beautiful," Celena commented, her voice laced with awe. Dilandau huffed, looking up at the castle that loomed closer.

"It's a bunch of rocks stacked on top of each other," he responded. Celena giggled, leaning against him as the horse trotted purposefully towards the side of the large castle. They had avoided the main entrance, in hopes of not being seen too easily. The structure seemed to have little if no protection in the way of guards or watchmen.

Dilandau was having more and more trouble focusing on the task at hand. The woman who now sat in front of him, her back nestled into his chest, was becoming an increasing distraction as time wore on. If only he had known what he had gotten himself into when he separated from her, he would never have kept his consciousness.

The images of a small, white haired girl sobbing in the back of his mind had disappeared when she took control. His mind had told him that any sort of relationship with the woman was wrong in all meanings of the word: they had shared the same body for the last twelve years of their lives, whether aware of it or not. When she had taken control, he became painfully aware of her existence, but it was too late. Stuck in his confinement, he had begun to rove her mind, turning it over in his hands like volume after volume of some great novel.

Slowly, Dilandau had come closer to the surface, merely an observer in Celena's petty life. Her little tiffs with her brother, her rides in the fields with Jajuka, and her secret late night excursions. She would take his sword, put on his jacket, and prance about outside the house - even in the throes of a blizzard. Dilandau knew he should have been mocked, angered, and undeniably irritated by the girl's behavior, but strangely enough, he found it almost flattering. He knew she had no recollection of him, an aspect of their mutual inhabitance that had become more and more of a stitch in his side.

The little girl should know who she was... The great Dilandau Albatou! Every day that Allen avoided talking about the gap in Celena's memory, was another day that Dilandau's already growing scorn was allowed to flourish.

It was only until recently, possibly a month or more before Celena released him, that Dilandau had finally come into contact with the girl who now dominated his body. She had been shocked at first, but her willingness to accept his company surprised even he.

At night, Celena would sit on her bed - unsheathed sword in hand - and ramble on about nothing. She'd talk about anything and everything that popped into her head, talking out loud in a funny, sing song voice. At first, Dilandau had been up in flames about it. He would snarl at her, curse at her, laugh at her, and then retreat into the darkness. She would shut up then, merely humming some old tune to herself while playing with his sword.

But every day, he would come back, attempting to remain unnoticed. And again, every morning, Celena would go about her daily routine, fully aware of his presence. She rather enjoyed it, having another mind, completely different from herself in every way, residing in her own head. Then the process would start all over, slowly wearing down Dilandau's high, well-built walls. The time he spent listening to her grew steadily, his tantrums beginning to die down. He found some of her tales slightly amusing, especially ones about the various childish pranks she would play on Jajuka or her brother - when he was around, of course.

After what seemed like years to Dilandau, he began to talk back to her. He would announce his presence in her mind during the day, like commenting on Jajuka's inability to eat like a proper gentleman at dinner, or mocking Allen's girlish hairstyle when he would ride home from Palas.

"Dilandau," Celena had asked one day, while out strolling around the grounds by herself. "You used to have our body, be in control of it. What did it look like?"

Dilandau had been stunned. How did she know? He was sure that she only believed him to be a voice in his head; maybe all the troves of information he knew about her went for her about him as well! Angered that she hadn't at least told him she was invading on his privacy, Dilandau had retreated for at least two days, refusing to speak to her.

When he did decide to talk to her again, he interrupted on a very interesting moment. She lay in the bath, looking up at a mirror she had installed on the far wall. Dilandau took a peek at her view, and was shocked into silence.

"Well, girl," he said, never using her name, as usual. "I am... was - a gorgeous man. I had skin that was perfect in every way, until it was mauled by a pesky little brute. I had fine silver hair, you know, and eyes. I loved my eyes... Hell, who wouldn't? They were so red. Red like blood, girl!" Expecting her to run off scared, as she tended to do when he began his bloody fantasies, she merely laughed.

"You sound it," she had replied. "Will you show me?" The request caught Dilandau off guard. Of course he wanted to; any chance of showing off his body, especially his glorious face, he would grab at. But how?

"By making my body yours again," Celena had said.

And so, it happened. By her mere force of will, she had given over control of her body to him. With renewed vigor, he had gotten out of the bathtub, staring into the mirror.

After eight years, he was alive again! He had a body! He had scowled when he heard Celena's voice in the back of his mind.

"Wow, it's lonely in here," she had said, her voice tinged with fright. "I don't like it here." Dilandau had merely tried to shrug her off, intent on finding his clothes and killing everyone in sight, save Jajuka. Maybe.

"Dilandau, I want out now," Celena had requested, a bit more frantically. "Dilandau, let me out. Let me out of here, Dilandau." Repeating it over and over again, she had become a small, frightened squeak.

Dilandau had let off such a fury, the entire house shook. He stormed around the room, cursing at the top of his lungs. She had screamed back, her voice high and spasmodic. Jajuka and Allen had stormed in, wondering what was the matter, until they were faced with Dilandau Albatou.

After being tied up in the basement for almost a day, Dilandau's nerves and tiny, minimal patience had disappeared. Celena had sat in the corner of his mind, crying every waking moment, little pleas escaping her. She begged, saying she only wanted back long enough to get her brother to release her.

Dilandau did not believe her, but had no choice. They would starve if he didn't, and he had the intention of dying by fighting, not rotting away in some coward's basement. As soon as Celena recovered her body, she screamed bloody murder until she was released.

Afterwards, she had refused to utter a word for days. Even when Dilandau had begun yelling at her, she had blatantly refused to respond and had cut him off. Completely.

In that short time, Dilandau had contemplated. After feeling a physical body once more, he wanted more. He hungered for more. But with Celena in the way, there was no way he was going to get it. Not again, not after what he did. In his short time with the silly girl, he had grown almost...

Attached. His emotions rotated around killing; his hunger lay in the fight, in the merciless spilling of blood. A strange, protective part of him mourned the deaths of his slayers, their faces haunting his murder-infested dreams. Fire blazed in his mind, in his fantasies, lighting up the bloodstained battlegrounds of his imagination.

But now, waltzing amongst the fallen bodies, was her. Her silly little stories, her made up jingles, the clumsy way in which she handled his sword, and even how his jacket hung loosely off her small figure.

Celena was possibly the strangest creature he had ever encountered. In that moment, he had realized that the only way to get his body back was to befriend her, get her to trust him again.

And then, he had murmured the first real, sincere apology of his entire life. Celena had forgiven him after some deliberation, and Dilandau had carefully avoided hurting her again. She grew more used to his angry outbursts, and would even go to great lengths to calm him.

Her brother and Jajuka had been extremely worried about her, but she had called in her cavalry of sad faces and pathetic pouting lips when either of them suggested anything to remedy the small mishap. Dilandau had been shocked into silence by her defense of him, her caring for him, and everything else about the strange woman.

"Dilandau?" she had asked one day, as she lay on her bed, the two having their nightly conversation. Rarely did she ask him questions. "Do you think you could ever have your own body?" The question caught him off guard, yet again.

"That's a stupid thing to ask," he had chastised, but Celena would not back off.

"I want you to be real," she had said in her defense.

"Real? I am real! What are you talking about, you silly girl?" But Celena had a strong determination.

"Real, physical! Here in body, you know what I mean. Then you wouldn't have to be in my mind! We could both be real, together!" Her innocence always amazed him.

"That's not possible." Oh, but it had. She proved it to him.

She had gone to great lengths to travel to the Palas bazaar alone, looking for what, Dilandau did not know. She paid a heavy price for a tall mirror, and then proceeded to - against Dilandau's pleading, cursing, and threats - seek out a sorcerer.

"Good sir, I will pay you grandly if you can grant me a simple favor on this mirror. A mirror reflects you, everything physical about you, your movements, correct? But a mirror cannot show what's inside of you. If you can make this mirror do just the opposite, to show me physically what is really inside me, I will pay you grandly."

Despite how Celena pranced around like a ten year old child, sang like a tone-deaf bird, and rambled on about her petty life, she was a damn smart woman. Of course, Dilandau would never dream of admitting it to her.

Not long after, Celena had once again granted him control of the body. This time, Dilandau was slightly more cautious. She gave him a time limit based around Jajuka's waking hours, and he had stolen into the kitchen in the middle of the night, ravishing the joys of food once again.

Dilandau jerked out of his reverie, sighing deeply. Celena looked up at him, raising one eyebrow. Now, he realized, he couldn't deny it. It didn't matter what she was, who she was.

He wanted her. His mind wandered to the soft feel of her lips on his, the perfect fit of her body against his, her silly morning bugle, or her strange, childlike tendencies.

Suddenly, Dilandau laughed. Celena jolted in surprise, glancing back at him.

"What is it, Dilly?" At his strange nickname, he started laughing harder. His guffaws were slightly hoarse, his voice higher in pitch than normal. "Dilandau.." she poked at him, concern crossing her face.

He jerked on the horse's reins, bringing it to a stop. He stared down at her, his face becoming completely straight again. Celena watched him nervously, feeling unsettled as his red eyes bore into her. "Um.. Dilly.."

"Oh damn it, shut up." With that, he picked her straight up, turned her around, and planted a thick kiss on her surprised lips.