Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Bloody Hands ❯ Mortality ( Chapter 15 )

*Author's Note: In this chapter Van uses the phrase 'crooked'. 'Crooked' is Gaian slang for gay. Not really... I made it up. Anyway, just to clear up any confusion it might cause. Yes, this should be a footnote, but I don't want to put anything at the bottom of the page that might affect the mood of the ending of the chapter.

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When he opened his eyes, Gaia had been overcome by a great flood and he was underwater. The world drifted around him in silent liquid-like movements. Furniture was floating around him.

Sebastian lifted an arm and waved it around in front of himself. It blurred and melted into itself.

Nothing but air. He was dry. The floating was in his own mind.

"Uhhhh hho...," he groaned out loud, still waving his hand slowly. He let it fall to his forehead. Drop was more like it. His body had gained a thousand pounds. He remembered the morning after he had gotten completely plastered on expensive wine at Brak Lione's house, and had woken up the next morning in much the same state as he presently was. His head was throbbing, pulsing with pain that had a heartbeat all its own. It droned inside of him, drowning out everything else.

"Fuck me sideways," he moaned, pressing his palm against his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut.

"I don't think you should be giving such invitations in your current state," someone said gently. The voice echoed about him in layers. "I might just take you up on that offer."

Sebastian waved his arm around desperately in effort to find the source of the voice.

A warm hand caught his wrist and held it firmly. Sebastian made a failing attempt to pull it away.

"Leave, Sebastian," the voice pleaded kindly, echoing like ripples in a lake. "Please... don't do this. You don't have to do this. Please, Sebastian.... I love you."

"Gatti..."

He lifted his other arm and opened his eyes. His wrist was suspended in mid-air, and there was no trace of whoever (whatever, Sebastian thought) was gripping it.

"Gatti!" he called as fiercely as he could manage, voice cracking.

Wet hot liquid stung him behind the eyes. His voice dwindled to a whisper.

"Your feathers were always so much brighter than mine.... Gatti."

He felt around with his other arm, waving it back and forth over the one that was held still, trying to find his lover. He could sense something peaceful. Something warm and flowing. A breeze from nowhere... soft material...

"Where are you, Gatti?"

"I'm here."

The wet hot liquid escaped from behind his eyes and rolled silently down his cheek.

"I can't see you, Gatti," he stretched his arm out, the skin between his fingers aching sharply as he spread them apart. "Gatti, why can't I see you?!"

"Please get out, 'Bastian..."

He strained to see something. The pain was digging and scraping into his skull.

Sebastian fainted again.

It was late at night in the guest house that was separated from the Schezar manor where Van and Sebastian were alone.

Van ran his finger across the haft of his sword. Squeezed it in his hands.

"Who are you?" he asked the sleeping stranger in a whisper. His dark eyebrows were furrowed harshly, and he was frowning. He wondered if it was someone the Dragonslayers had sent. Well, fuck them. This tall, lanky, skinny boy couldn't possibly be a threat. Obviously not a soldier. He wasn't built up like one. His frame was delicate and feminine, and if he had any muscles they were from working a pen in his hand at school or holding a book up to his face in an all-night read-a-thon. Van could easily picture him bent over a book in dim yellow light, eyes wide at the words. An ordinary boy's ticket to the world of dragon slaying and Guymelef fighting. This blonde-haired boy with long slender fingers and soft features was no soldier.

"A rich clean-cut schoolboy. Can't you do any better than that, Zaibach soldiers?" he asked out loud, sneering. Then, just for spite, he added: "He's probably crooked too."

Van stood over Sebastian, thick ebony lashes narrowed around his dark garnet eyes. The boy's head was dipped to one side on the pillows Celena had propped him on. Van reached out with one gloved hand and pulled the stranger's chin so that Sebastian was facing him. His features were thin. His chin was strong, despite the rest of him. His hair was careless, swiped about his face. His eyebrows were dark brown instead of golden-blonde like the rest of his hair. He looked peaceful, reminding Van of the ocean when the white light of the afternoon sun was dancing in erratic little glistens on the surface. Van realized that the boy was quite handsome, but he thought nothing of it. Here was someone who was dangerous. Faces were, almost always, just masks. The truth was underneath the face. In the eyes. Always in the eyes. He frowned at Sebastian's closed lids.

"You're not peaceful, are you?" Van whispered to the boy. "You're one of them."

He released Sebastian's face and let it fall back on the pillows.

Van was still watching him when Sebastian's dark eyebrows furrowed in a jerky quirk. The boy whimpered.

"Gatti?"

Van's narrowed eyes snapped wide open. He snatched his sword from its scabbard and it sang high and soft through the air.

"What did you say?" he growled.

A tear bubbled up in the corner of the stranger's eye, clutched at his cheekbone for dear life, and finally slipped down the length of his cheek.

"Gatti..."

Van held his sword high above his head.

"I knew it," he seethed through clenched teeth. "They sent you."

Sebastian's eyelids were quivering. They flickered a little, like the flame of a candle in a sudden cold breeze, and then they were open, squinting at the bright light of the guest bedroom.

Feeling someone hovering over him, he turned his head, groaning quietly at the pain in his neck. And then he was looking up into the grimacing face of Van Fanel, a sword cocked high in both hands above his head of silky black hair, aimed straight at Sebastian's chest.

Under the sheets, Sebastian's hand reached discreetly into his cape for his own sword. His face fell starkly dismal when he realized his cape, his sword, and his boots were all gone. He was under the aimed sword of the Fanelian king, with no weapon of any kind. He was swimming alone in a dirty pond full of crocodiles, treading water and trying to keep his eyes on all of them at once. He was standing in an open field and there was a Guymelef coming right for him, running footsteps shaking the ground.

The top lip in Van's grimace crept up to his nose. Sebastian's heart triphammered like the low rumble of a jungle drum against the bones in his ribcage, and his ribcage pulsed against the insides of his skin.

"I knew they sent you. But I won't let you hurt anyone anymore," Van said, unable to raise his voice above a whisper through his hatred. He suddenly felt more like a samurai than he had since he'd killed all fourteen of the Dragonslayers. Bloodlust swept through his body in the form of hard little goose bumps. The silver blade glistened menacingly in the lighting.

The dragon hunt was supposed to end today, wasn't it? I've beat you before and I can beat you again. Looks like your 'Fate' has been a little fucked with, ne?

The faintest of grins tugged at the corner of Van Fanel's mouth.

Just as Sebastian saw the sword make the slightest of movements, he rolled over, realized that he had overestimated the size of the bed, and fell to the floor with a flump. Van's sword sliced through the air with a whispering whish and contacted with the pillows, slicing through, tiny white feathers raining down on them.

Realizing the stranger had gotten away, Van spun around, his clenched teeth bared. His bangs bounced into his eyes and out again.

"Bastard!" Van hissed.

Sebastian swung one slender leg around and it caught Van's ankles. The king fell forward as Sebastian's leg swept under his feet and landed on the ground, grunting.

Sebastian was scrambling to his feet, crawling away on hands and knees.

"Oh, no you don't. I told you. This whole thing ends here!" Van shouted, and grabbed Sebastian's left ankle. With one stiff jerk, he pulled the stranger to the ground. Regripping his sword, Van held Sebastian with one hand and raised his sword with the other.

"Ah!" Sebastian interjected, and slammed the bare heel of his other foot into Van's jaw. The king didn't release his leg. Rather, the grip in his rough callused fingers tightened. Sebastian twisted his body around, and kicked again, this time catching Van's temple. He heard the black-haired boy groan, and then something sharp sliced through his pants and into his skin, on the back of his calf.

Sebastian sat up sharply and pounded a fist against Van's arm, catching him just above the elbow. Van snatched Sebastian's wrist and jerked him forward. Sebastian tumbled helplessly on top of the Fenalian king.

Realizing Van was underneath him, Sebastian cocked his arm and slammed a right hook into Van's right cheek. The exotic, dark-skinned face rocked back, and Sebastian groped desperately for the sword. Van lifted one knee sharply, and caught Sebastian between the shoulder blades. The blonde fell forward, and Van squirmed out from under him.

Grunting to his feet, Van swooped the sword over his head again. He pointed it downward, aiming for Sebastian's back. The boy rolled away again just as the sword whizzed down for him. Van managed to stab into the sleeve of Sebastian's wool sweater, pinning him to the floor.

The blonde's face was all eyes as he tried to tear the fabric away.

Van pounced on him like a tiger, throwing punches. He felt his knuckles contact Sebastian's thin cheekbones with hard smacks. The boy was grunting, grimacing underneath him. Weak. Vulnerable. Defenseless. Van raised his arm again, and punched him in the abdomen. Sebastian's eyes went wide and his body jerked at the clout to the soft, sensitive part of his stomach.

Desperately, his arm flailed out and he grabbed a handful of Van's black hair. He yanked hard, fingers tightening around the tresses.

"Arrrrgh!!!!" Van bellowed, his head snapping sideways as Sebastian jerked the roots of his hair. His fingers tightened wildly around the handle of his sword. He pulled hard, but it was planted into the wooden floor.

"Ahh!!" he yelled in protest and yanked again, Sebastian still grabbing frantically at his hair. Van backhanded him across the cheek and grabbed his sword with both hands, jumping to his feet.

Sebastian took advantage of the opportunity, raised a leg, and kicked at Van's left knee.

"Hhhhooooowww!" Van howled as his knee was jabbed in a direction it wasn't meant to bend. He stumbled backwards, the sword still in the floor, and fell on his rump with a thump that shook the walls. A framed picture slipped from its hook on the wall and shattered on the hardwood floor.

Sebastian gave his arm one last fierce jerk, and the sweater escaped the sword with a sharp rip. He grabbed the sword and jumped to his feet, tugging hysterically as Van hobbled into a standing position and sprang at him.

Screaming, Sebastian put all of his weight into the next tug. It slipped out of the floor and Sebastian stumbled backwards at the force of his pull. He slammed against the wall, knocking the breath from him. Ignoring the pain, he gripped the sword carefully and made a bowing arc of a sweep that started at the ground and swooped up for Van's face. Van ducked promptly, squatting to avoid the blow. Standing to his feet again, he sent and uppercut to Sebastian's jaw. The boy's head snapped backwards, and Van jammed his fist into the boy's stomach.

Sebastian groaned meekly and fell forward, body limp. Van snatched his sword away easily. He reached downward and grabbed Sebastian by the neck, slamming his head back against the wall so that he could see the blonde's face.

Blood was dribbling down the corner of his mouth. His lips were white and his honey-colored skin had gone almost as pale as Dilandau's had been. Looking into the wide, brown eyes, Van sneered and pressed his palm harder against the extended bone in Sebastian's throat.

"Things didn't .... quite work out.... the way.... you.... hoped...., did they?" Van panted.

Sebastian reached up and tried to pry Van's hand away, making wet, throaty choking sounds as Van pressed even harder.

"You... under....estimated me..." Van said, chest heaving. A murderous glint flashed in his eyes, and then was gone. He licked his lips absently.

"Lemme... goh..." Sebastian croaked. A film of tears glassed over his dark brown eyes.

A quick grin flashed across Van's face, and then faded back into a painful scowl.

"Bastards... think you.... can do as you please...," he muttered.

"You killed Gatti!" Sebastian wailed. He sobbed helplessly, fighting his tears in vain.

Van's brow furrowed.

"Gatti... killed Hitomi!" Van shouted.

Sebastian didn't take the time to wonder who Hitomi was. It didn't matter. No much did matter because Sebastian felt the tip of Van's cold sword poke through his thick sweater and touch his skin.

"No...," he whispered, feeling the tears cascade down his cheeks, blurring his vision. "Please..."

Van squeezed the long slender neck in his hand. He pushed his sword just a little farther. The boy against the wall burst into tears.

My God, Van thought, what kind of idiot would send someone like this after me? He's never killed anyone in his life... he's probably never even been in a real fight...

Sebastian was pushing against Van's chest in vain.

For you, Hitomi.... for you.

For a moment the skin just sank in around the tip of the blade, but then the flesh gave way, and Van's sword was slicing through Sebastian's stomach.

"AAAAAAhhhhhhhoooooooooo oh GOD!!!!!!"

The sound wasn't even human, Van would later decide. And of all the people he would kill, the sound would haunt him for the rest of his life.

He clapped his free hand around Sebastian's mouth, and pushed his sword farther until he felt it stab into the wall behind Sebastian.

The blonde boy's filmy eyes looked at the wound in complete and utter horror, and then he looked up at Van with an expression to match the sound that the king would never forget. His eyes were wide with unbelieving shock instead of hatred. His mouth was gaping with fear instead of pain. He looked at the slit in his stomach, then back at Van again.

And then, Van could have sworn, he smiled.

"I guess I... wasn't a wolf... after all..."

The boy's body jerked with heartbreaking violence, as if he'd tried one last time to fight off what was coming, and then he collapsed against Van Fanel's chest.