Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Bloody Hands ❯ The Adventure of Death ( Chapter 5 )

>"Why is it so dark?"
>"In the beginning, it is always dark."

--The Neverending Story--

___________________________________________________________________________ ___________

Dalet was wearing a white vest with his navy Dragonslayer pants, perched on Celena's dresser, watching her sleep. He did that. Watched her sleep at night. None of the others knew, but he'd stayed in her quarters every night. Trying to figure out how it all fit together, trying to figure out why Dilandau-sama hadn't escaped from that weak little body.

None of them slept anymore. They never got tired or thirsty or hungry. So Dalet preoccupied himself at night by watching over that strange girl that wasn't Dilandau-sama.

Dalet twirled his sword in his hands. It was pretty. It caught the silvery blue light from the window and glittered in the dark room. Dalet had always prized his appearance, but he prized his sword even more. Groomed and polished it almost as much as he had his own face and hair. There was something about a sword that had given him a sense of power. Since the beginning of time, Folken-sama had once said, men have craved power. Power is a lust that beats next to a man's heart and eclipses everything once it is achieved. Power was the ultimate high, the ultimate rush, the ultimate goal, the ultimate.... (Dalet grinned a little) aphrodisiac. Oh, how that power had once pulsed inside of him! Oh god, how he had once loved the thought of being in control of something. Especially something as taboo to be in control of as a human life. Oh god, oh god, how he had once loved to be alive. How he had once loved to be powerful, loved to be a soldier, loved everything about the great Empire, loved everything about himself, especially his appearance. He had looked so stunning in that uniform, even he had to admit it. How he had once loved to look at himself in that black and blue uniform....

"I *was* so handsome once, wasn't I?" Dalet asked his sword. He'd taken up talking to it. No one could see or hear him now except that damned Van Fanel, and Dalet sure as hell wasn't going to say anything to *him*. Gatti, Guimel, Mercutio... he couldn't talk to them either. Gatti was as bad as Dilandau-sama now, about cursing and hitting things and laughing until he felt like he'd let enough of himself out into the world to be satisfied. And Mercutio....

oh fuck, man.

... Mercutio was long gone. Disappearing into the In-Between to learn those ridiculous nursery rhymes. Something or other about cats. Dalet had never felt so completely and wholly alone. Sure, he could go and learn about 'other' things like the others had. Gatti had even asked him to go with him once. But why should he do that? Why should he go out and learn about all that evil when all the Evil he could stand was beating in his breast? All the Evil of the Mystic Moon. All the diseases and murders Gatti had told him about.

"Gaia, really, is nothing compared to that place, Dalet. You wouldn't believe the shit I've seen," Gatti had said.

Oh, Dalet would believe it. All the Evil of Gaia and the Mystic Moon, all crumpled up together, it couldn't compare to the evilness of the Loneliness that pumped inside.

Evilness of the Loneliness
Evilness of the Loneliness

"Has a nice ring to it, ne?" Dalet mused. His sword agreed, glimmering in what Dalet assumed to be a nod.

The sword was a great listener, but it wasn't much for consolation. It was cold and empty, without the kinds words of wisdom that Chesta would give him, or even the vulgar little joke Migel would tell to coax the even faintest of smiles across his mouth. He'd told the sword about his family, his phobias, his dreams, his secrets, the deepest things that nestled in the very back corner of his heart. But it was all wasted, because the sword never knew how to respond. All his sword knew was glimmer, glimmer, glimmer, and bringing back the memory of battle with the lustful rush of power.

Dalet carefully laid the edge of the blade on his thin, delicate wrist. He dragged it across his flesh, pushing down as he went. At first his skin objected, crying out against the foreign invasion. But then, oh gods, it gave way, and Dalet felt the elation of the power rush. Dark maroon, almost black, blood leaked out of the cut. It hurt at first, stinging a little, but then there was nothing but the unpleasantness of his pale skin protesting.

He wasn't hoping to actually kill himself again. Hell no. He knew he couldn't force himself past the In-Between and onto wherever Chesta and Migel had passed onto. That was too much to ask for. He just wanted to feel that powerlust again. That ecstasy that had once given his life so much meaning. Dalet wanted so badly to dig himself out of the misery of himself, that the dead flesh strapped to his soul didn't seem like such a sacrifice.

Dalet pulled the blade in the other direction, tracing the original cut, further invading that thin film of white flesh. This time the blood gushed, pouring over both sides of his wrist and dripping onto his thigh. Tears formed in his eyes when he realized what he was doing. He dropped the sword, letting it clang obscenely on the floor, and covered his face with his palms.

"Dilandau-sama...," he whimpered, unable to conjure any other word in all of his head.
"Dilandau-saMA!!!"

The Girl That Wasn't Dilandau stirred at the horrible wail, and sat straight up. Dalet didn't notice, though Celena felt that surely whoever it was could hear the intense pumping of her heart. She heard sobbing, and her fears of being hurt were calmed, though the sadness that hung in the air because of the sound was far more unnerving.

"Dalet?" she asked the room softly.

The ghost stopped sobbing immediately and lowered his hands.

"Celena? You heard me?" he said, wanting to make sure he hadn't imagined her voice stabbing through the darkness.

"Of course I heard you."

And now that he had the chance to speak to her, he couldn't help but ask one question.

"Where is Dilandau-sama?"

"He's gone, Dalet," Celena said gently, "He's gone."

"Then who are you?"

Celena wasn't sure how to answer. And everything she came up with seemed too hurtful, somehow. It was like telling a child that his puppy had died.

"I'm Celena Schezar. They used my body for Dilandau, but my body belongs to me now," she finally said, helplessly.

"Do you know what he's thinking?"

"No. I know what I'm thinking. But I have his memories, and I remember his feelings."

"Does he miss me, Celena?"

"He did miss you, Dalet. He missed all of you. Terribly. When you left him, he had nothing to hold onto. It was like being in a dark cave with only one little torch, and all of a sudden having someone come up behind you, blow it out, and swipe it right out of your fingers."

"Do *you* miss me?"

The question stung her heart, and she realized that she hadn't even thought about it. God. 'Do I miss them?' she asked herself.

"I.... I don't think I ever really knew you."

Dalet was quiet for a minute. He decided that he wanted Celena to know him. He wanted to leave him imprint on her. He wanted her to know that he was so alive once. So alive.

"I used to take great pride in my appearance," Dalet said, "but that was silly when I look at it now."

"I used to take great pride in my appearance too," Celena grinned. Dalet snickered.

"My favorite color was green," Dalet continued. "I used to read a lot. Late at night. I bought books from Astoria and Freid when we had some time off."

"What kinds of books did you like?"

"Adventure stories, mostly. Fiction about people who would travel to the Mystic Moon. There was this one, about a soldier who fell through a portal and got stranded on the Mystic Moon and it was inhabited by these cannibals. People who eat other people, you know?"

"Yeah," Celena said, "Sounds good."

Both of them were silent a moment, and Dalet spoke up again, changing the subject.

"What did Dilandau-sama do when we died?"

"He... dropped a rose from the west balcony. He said your names. And he.... fell to his knees and said he was all alone."

Dalet ran his finger absently over the cut on his wrist.

"Dalet?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you going to hurt me?"

"Why.... why would I do that?" Dalet asked, surprised.

"Van..."

Dalet dug his nails into the wound at the sound of that filthy name.

"He killed me and took me away from my Dilandau-sama! I could have been a great soldier... I could have been a writer... Dilandau-sama gave me a Guymelef. He believed in me when everyone else said I'd never amount to anything. He took me in and he gave me a place in the world. And Van took that away! Van took me away from Dilandau-sama!!"

"I took Dilandau's body away from him," Celena said.

Dalet thought for a minute.

"But what good will it do me to hurt you?"

"What good does it do you to hurt Van?"

Dalet sucked in his breath and felt tears stinging his eyes again.

"Dilandau-sama would have wanted it this way."

"What do you want, Dalet?"

"I want...," Dalet furrowed his brow in thought, and looked down at his wrist. "I want.... to be happy again."

"You can be, Dalet. You can be happy."

"How?"

"Once you leave this world... you'll find a new one."

Dalet bit down on the soft flesh of his bottom lip. "But what will happen when I do that? Celena... will I go... will I go to the Black Underworld?"

"If anyone deserves to go to a better place, it's you."

"But.... I'm scared, Celena. What will happen to me?"

Celena smiled again.

"You ought to think of it as an adventure. Like the books."

"An adventure?"

"Free yourself, Dalet. Free yourself of Dilandau. Follow your own heart.

<have the courage to follow your own heart>

Bigger and better things are waiting for you. You don't have to chain yourself to his memory anymore."

Dalet looked down at his wrist again. The wound and its blood were gone. His smooth flesh was clean and honey-colored. He reached up to touch the stringy black hair that was matted with blood and his fingers slipped through glossy, silky tresses that were dark brown when he held them in front of his eyes.

"You're beautiful," Celena whispered, awestruck. And he was.

Dalet looked up, astonished.

It's over
It's over
It's over

"Celena?"

"You can pass on, now, Dalet," she said quietly.

"I'm... I'm afraid-"

"Don't be afraid, Dalet. You're free. Dilandau can't hold you here anymore."

"Dilandau-sama..."

"Go, Dalet. Be at peace. Be happy."

Dalet caressed the place on his wrist where the slice had been.

"Celena?" he called quietly.

"Yes?"

"I'm glad it was you. I mean... if Dilandau-sama had to be someone else, I'm.... glad it was you."

"Arigatou, Dalet..."

"Oh....Oh god... is this what it's like?"

Dalet could see nothing in front of him, behind him, or to either side of him. His world was reduced to a brilliant white light.

You're free
You're free
You're free
you're Free