Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Dangerous Wounds ❯ Missing Celena ( Chapter 5 )

Author's Notes: Sorry about the long delay in getting a chapter out. The way I work things, is I write one chapter ahead...and the next chapter after this happened to be a reeeally lengthy one. e_e; Hrm, a warning...this gets a bit on the angsty side later on in the chapter. But, don't worry, I make up for this one in the next chapter. Anyway...hope you enjoy! And apparently the formatting is screwing up, and my things that should by italicized won't be...which royally screws up the whole thought thing between Dilandau and Celena. Just bare with it for now, please...I'll try and figure out some way to fix it. :T

Rain. There was something sad about the rain. It always seemed to wash everything away. The droplets pelted down on the window pane, leaving little streaks of moisture which were followed up by more. It blurred the normally crisp image of the outdoors, but one didn't necessarily need to see something when they weren't paying all that much attention to it. Allen stood behind that window in silent thought, with his eyes locked into nothingness...nothing except the rain.

He still couldn't get over what happened that day his sister disappeared. How could he have been so careless as to not watch out for her?! He should have known she wasn't directly behind him...that she wasn't running beside him any longer. Not a day went by that Allen didn't hold himself responsible for the lack of Celena's presence in the house. And time moved on, though it was hard to know much of it had gone by since she disappeared. Days, weeks, months...Allen would guess that it had been months since she was last with them.

Encia had fallen ill during that passage of time and was growing weaker as the days drifted by. With only a few servants to tend to her, and barely any money to pay for frequent doctor's visits, Allen didn't know what to do. He did more work than he needed to around the house. When he wasn't out collecting some money, he was cleaning and tending to other things that needed to be done. Not to mention, making certain his mother was resting properly. If Allen lost her, he wouldn't have anyone. First his father ran off, and then Celena disappeared. If Encia died, then Allen didn't know how his life could go on.

The teenager hung his head in silence, locks of gold tumbling over his shoulders, "Oh, Celena...I pray that you are kept safe and will return to us someday. I'll never forgive myself if..."

"It wasn't your fault, Allen. I wish you would stop saying such things..." Encia moved up behind him, laying a hand of comfort on his shoulder.

A bit startled, Allen turned around to face her...trying to mask the fact that he had been crying and wanting nothing more than to appear strong, "M-mother...what are you doing out of bed?"

"I may be a bit ill, but I am still mobile. I saw you by the window, staring into the forest again. I knew you were feeling guilty and I got up to tell you that you don't have to be, Allen. I don't think you're responsible at all..."

"What you think and what's the truth are two different things entirely," Allen turned his back on her. "I promised I would protect her. That I would keep you and her safe, mother. I broke that promise. What type of man will I be...if I can't even protect the people I care about?"

"You will grow up to be a wonderful man, Allen. I can already tell that about you. The way you've devoted yourself unselfishly to take care of everything...the finances, the house. You will make some girl really lucky one day..." Encia offered him a soft smile.

"You're just saying that..."

"I mean it, Allen. I mean everything I say to you. Especially that you're not responsible for Celena's disappearance. Some things...are meant to happen. Maybe it was God's way of protecting Celena...by taking her from us so he could watch over her in person. We just...have to believe that she's happy and safe...somewhere. And that...that...we'll be reunited with her one day in heaven..."

"But, Mother...what if--" He whipped around to face her, only to take note of the tears in her eyes and the pleading look she had to get him to stop this nonsense. With a sigh, Allen gathered her into a hug. "Yes, Mother...you're right. I'm certain that Celena...must be safe somewhere. No one would dare try and hurt her..."

* * *

Although the rumors of Celena's disappearance circled around the city of Palas, they had no way of reaching anyone who had been shut up inside their home. Ever since Zaccheus's return, Chesta and Valeria were forced to stay indoors for some makeup 'quality family time.' Chesta found it strange how his father wouldn't set one foot out of the house, but didn't question it. If Valeria didn't think it odd then why should he? All he knew was that he missed Celena.

Often times, he wondered what she was doing and if she was wondering the same thing about him. Chesta missed going up to the field and playing tag or one of those other childhood games. The thought never crossed is mind that she could be missing. It never occurred to him that, that could be a possibility. The only reason why they hadn't talked in so long was because of his forced family bonding with his father.

At the moment, Chesta and Zaccheus were seated at the table, waiting for Valeria to return with their meal. Silence was lingering over the two in that awkward manner it had between anyone who couldn't think up what to say. At least, that's how Chesta felt about it. Maybe his father felt another way. Those crystalline spheres raised toward the man and Chesta tightened once that glance was met.

"What, kid? You got a problem or something? Staring at me like that..." Zaccheus shook his head with his words. "How did I ever wind up with such a stupid kid?"

Chesta frowned and averted his gaze, "Sorry..."

"Ya damn well better be sorry. You oughta have been taught some respect. It's not polite to stare..." The man leaned against the chair. More silence fell over them until the father decided to break it again. "Damn it, Val! Where the hell's supper?! Can't ya hurry up?!"

"It has to cook for a little more..." She replied from the kitchen.

Zaccheus grunted in disapproval, "Then ya shoulda started it sooner..."

Sighing, Chesta shifted uncomfortably. He wished his mother -would- hurry up just so that he didn't have to be left alone with his father. Somewhere deep down, he knew these were not normal feelings to have toward a parent, but whenever Chesta was around him, his entire body tensed with nervousness, fear, and various other emotions that were just not right to feel. They never shared kind words toward each other; they barely talked at all. And in some sense, that was a relief to the young boy.

Soon afterward, Valeria came out with a few plates of steaming food. She set those down in front of the two and then poured them glasses of water from the pitcher on the table. Chesta glanced up at her and offered a warm smile. His mother returned it, though any cheerful expression drained from her face as she looked toward her husband's displeased stare.

"It's about damn time...ya sure spend a lot of time cooking something that's not even all that good in the first place..." Zaccheus began to eat.

Valeria sighed, sinking onto her chair. There was that awkward quietness again which loomed over the three with only one thing to fill it -- the scraping of utensils on the plates as they ate their meal. Chesta looked up at his mother again as she set her fork on the table and raised her napkin to her lips, dabbing it against them. Her gaze moved toward Chesta, and then over at his father.

"Zaccheus..." She began.

The man raised his eyes to her, speaking with a mouthful, "What?"

"It's been a while since Chesta's gone out to play with his friend...Celena. I think it might be good for him to get out of the house and play with her again..."

"Play? Why's he need to play with some girl? He ain't old enough to know how to really play with the girls...heh."

"Zaccheus!" Valeria sent him a warning glance.

He shrugged in response, "Anyway, what the kid needs is to hang around his pop. I'll make a man outta him. Hanging around girls at this age only makes 'em fags."

Chesta blinked in confusion and his mother sighed, shaking her head. It was probably best to drop the topic rather than to have her husband keep saying all these awful things in front of their son. Her hand moved forward to grasp the cup and she raised that to her lips, letting the water wash down the food she had taken in her mouth. Zaccheus looked toward her slowly, and then rolled his eyes.

"Fine. If you two'd much rather go out than spend time with me...then fine. Just go ahead. I'm done with my meal..." The man rose to his feet and stalked away from the table.

"Zaccheus..." Valeria sighed and then looked toward Chesta. "I'll be back in a moment, hon'."

The boy watched his mother leave to follow his father and he frowned, turning to his plate of mashed potatoes, "Well, I guess it's just me and the food for now..."

One elbow was propped up on the table as he rested his cheek against his palm. Chances were Valeria and Zaccheus were going to go to the bedroom and not return for a while. He furrowed his brows, and then pushed himself out of the chair. He was sick and tired of waiting to be allowed out of the house. He was going to see Celena - to add some sort of fun to his rather disappointing life. And without another thought, Chesta slipped out the door.

* * *

It was dark. Darker than it normally was. Usually, Dilandau could get used to the limited lighting, but this was more darkness than he had ever been awake to see. He waited for the flickering flames of candle light, though more than likely none would come. The boy found himself fascinated by fire. The way it danced and swayed...the heat it gave off...and light as well. Fire was one thing he couldn't avoid no matter where he was shipped off to. It was a life force needed, yet it could be deadly at times. Words couldn't express how much it intrigued him.

The past few months had been spent with the Madoushi. They did several tests of his physical health, which was abnormally well. Dilandau, however, hadn't appreciated their prodding and even prided himself on biting one. They should have learned to keep their hands to themselves! But, that all was a fading image...a distant memory that within a few days would fade into oblivion. This proved the sorcerers theories t Dilandau's mental health hadn't been up to the desired standards. He hadn't said one word since the experiment, and they were all beginning to wonder if he ever would.

Not that it mattered. A good soldier didn't need words to fight. And so without wasting anymore efforts on Dilandau's minimal communication skills, they boarded him on the nearest levi-ship and sent him off to General Finley as they were instructed to do. And now all Dilandau knew was that it was dark. He stared off absently in some direction, watching swirls and patterns dart across, the type of thing that happened when one went without blinking for so long. Dark lashes lowered finally and reopened to see the patterns had faded.

*They're gone,* Dilandau let the thought come to his mind.

*You shoulda known they wouldn't stay around forever...* A girl's voice echoed from somewhere in that shared head space.

It startled him when he heard her talk, but she only came out every once in a while and it was really the only person he could hold a conversation with. The girl understood him somehow...on a deeper level than all of those strangely cloaked men. Dilandau waited for a moment, not all that sure if he wanted to communicate.

*What's the matter? Don't want to talk? I came out because you were lonely,* Apparently, Dilandau had forgotten that she could 'read his mind.'

*We'll probably be there soon. You shouldn't talk to me so much.*

*Aw, Dilandau! You know I was the one who told you to bite that man. I really hate those men. And you should too. They obviously don't care about you.*

*They annoy me.*

There was a silent pause.

*It sure is dark in this place...* The girl started up again. *How long do you think it'll take to get to where we're going?*

*How should I know?*

*Yeah, that's right. Well, Dilandau...I think you should get some rest. You are pretty tired.*

*Are you leaving?*

*Do you want me to?*

*...no.*

*Then I'll stay all the way 'til you go see that General guy...that way, we won't be alone. We'll never be alone...so long as we got each other, right?*

*...I guess.*

*It reminds me of some things my friend Chesta used to say...*

*Chesta? Oh? What did he say?*

*I...don't really remember all that good. You know the way that is...our memory's not so good....*

*Yeah...but what good's a memory anyway?*

*I'm not all that sure. Oh well, let's get some sleep. Goodnight, Dilandau.*

*Night...*

Dilandau didn't know why, but some way...somehow, everything seemed to get even darker.

* * *

Cold and damp, but happy to be at his destination, Chesta rose onto his tiptoes, letting his finger press against the doorbell. Safely beneath the roofed porch, he listened to the soft pitter-patter of raindrops while waiting for the door to be answered. It was taking longer than expected and Chesta impatiently rang it again. He waited for a few moments, shifting his weight from one foot to the next until finally, Allen came to the doorway.

The thirteen year old appeared quite surprised, "Chesta? What...are you doing here?"

"I came to see Celena!" The youth smiled brightly.

"You...don't know?"

"I don't know what...?"

Allen sighed, "Chesta, come in. Why don't you dry off for a bit in front of the fire?"

"All...right..." Chesta stepped in after him, glancing around at the rather unkempt place. "Is Celena in bed?"

The elder of the two quietly ushered him into the living room, leaving him beside the flames. Chesta watched as Allen completely disregarded his question, and moved into the back, only to return with an old shirt of his. That was handed the boy's way and he took it slowly, raising a questioning glance toward the teen.

"Put those on, they're dry. I'll send the message to your mother that you're here..." Allen went to leave again, but that time Chesta wasn't going to let him.

"Allen! What happened to Celena?!" The intense blue stare locked on his best friend's brother, holding him there with some invisible force.

Silence fell over them only filled by the raindrops out doors. Allen slowly turned around to face Chesta, a grim expression had come over his features.

"Celena disappeared months ago...that day it was storming...we were almost home, but Celena got out of my sight and she hasn't come home yet..." He sighed, lowering his eyes. "I hate to be the one to tell you, but now you know the truth. If you'll excuse me, I'll go and tell the messenger now. You just get warm..."

Chesta watched him go; his mouth was slightly agape in shock. It took a moment for him to process what Allen had just said and his knees gave out beneath him. The crackling fire seemed to be the only sound there, for it had drowned out the downpour outside. His eyes settled on nothing in particular as memories flashed before him...the good times, the bad times...all with Celena. Were they really all over now...never to be again? Was Celena really gone from his life forever...? Overcome by tears, Chesta stretched forward, curling up in front of the warm heat. Why did bad things like this always have to happen to him?

The night had been a long one, between all the nightmares that plagued the young Templeton boy and the restless silence, he spent the majority of those dark hours awake and alone. As the sky grew considerably lighter, Chesta must have dozed off, but it was one of those light sleeps where one didn't even know they fell into it. Though, wherever Chesta was, the time seemed to move quicker and before he knew it, a light shake to his arm caused him to surface slowly from the depths of dreamless rest. His eyes opened and then landed on Allen's face in confusion. At first, he thought he was dreaming, but the sudden chill that ran down his spine told him otherwise.

"Your mother should be here soon, Chesta. You don't want to sleep past noon now do you?" Allen tried his best to offer a smile, but it came across as far too forced, so he let it fade.

Chesta reached over for the couch cushion only to find that his arm was tangled in cloth. He lowered his gaze to the long white sleeves of Allen's shirt which dangled far beyond his hands. Becoming preoccupied with this for a moment, he watched the fabric sway as he moved those hands together and then further apart. Once interest in that died, Chesta slid out from beneath the covers he had been given by someone during the night, and he glanced up at Allen.

"I'm kinda hungry. Do you have anything for breakfast?"

"I can check," Allen motioned the lad to follow as he led the way into the kitchen.

The two inched inside the confined space, mostly crowded with pots and various other needed items. It was hard to tell the Schezar family (what was left of it) was completely poor. The manor itself was large and the rooms were rather spacious. The only thing that could hint out the welfare was the complete lack of cleanliness and other little things that hired care could handle. They did, however, have a few servants on hand. And one of them was a cook...a rather pudgy woman, with a brown bun and apron. She was found beside the stove, cooking up Encia's daily chicken broth as always.

Allen stepped up to her, speaking up rather pleasantly, "Good morning, Melinda."

"Oh, Sir Allen...what can I get for you?" The cook seemed nice enough.

"Are there any leftover scraps from breakfast? I have to get the young boy something to eat..." He motioned toward Chesta.

"Hm, I'll see what I can scrounge up once this is done, all right?" She smiled and then turned back to the pot, moving a wooden spoon through the steaming liquid.

"All right, thank you. Chesta, perhaps you should change in the mean time. Your clothes should be dry, I left them in the bathroom," Allen stated.

"Oh, um...okay..." Without another word, Chesta exited the kitchen.

Bare feet carried the lad in the area of the directed room, and he slipped inside, first climbing up on the toilet and relieving the normal morning 'potty problems.' His eyes darted over everything and finally spotted the outfit of his hanging over the shower curtain rod. Chesta frowned; he wasn't tall enough to reach them...unless...

Baby blue spheres landed on the hamper beside the towel rack. He grinned and climbed down, pushing the bin in the direction of that bath tub. Chesta crawled up the clothes holder, standing up on it carefully as he leaned forward to grab his shirt and slacks. With one swift motion, he managed to do so, but with a price as he lost his balance and fell back on his behind. Grimacing, one hand moved over to rub the sore area. The minor bruise didn't matter all that much, though. Chesta had attained victory! And so, he was going to get dressed.

After finishing, he moved out of the bathroom and made his way down the hall. It suddenly hit him how strange it was that he was inside the Schezar manor, but not with Celena. What could have possibly happened to her? What got to him the most was that he couldn't save her. He couldn't have stopped it from happening, and granted he was cooped up in his house, but Chesta still felt responsible somehow.

"I'm going to miss you, Celena. I hope you come back soon, someday..." Chesta whispered to himself and then went back toward the kitchen for that breakfast.

It was probably an hour or so later when Valeria arrived by carriage and even longer before they actually went home (it had been far too long since Encia and Valeria had talked, so of course they needed to catch up). The ride home was spent in silence as Chesta's mother had made it perfectly clear she was displeased with him running off like that. And if she was angry, the boy hated to see what awaited him when he got home.

The hooves outside started to slow and eventually stopped, signifying that they had arrived in their desired destination. Valeria was the first to exit, and she left the door open for her son, who was a tad slower at getting out. Chesta watched his mother hand the coach a few coins, and then the carriage as it departed from their home. Valeria swiftly snatched the boy's hand and guided him inside where they almost immediately met up with Zaccheus.

"Val, I'll take the kid from here..."

Valeria glanced up at her husband and then toward Chesta with a frown, "Is that really necessary? I think he learned his lesson."

"Wha? From you? I don't think you got what it takes to punish him right. I'll make sure it never happens again!" A massive hand roughly snagged the youth's shoulders, forcing the child to flinch and let out a meek cry.

"Zaccheus, please! Don't do this!" The woman pleaded.

"Eh, why don't you shut up, Val?! That's yer problem. Ya open yer damn mouth way too much. Once I get through with punishing the kid, you're next..." Zaccheus growled out his words and yanked Chesta into the next room.

With no choice but to follow, the son staggered along, trying to lessen his steps and hold back, but that only made the tugs much more fierce. Chesta became as desperate as a trapped animal about to be killed by it's predator, and he put up all the more resistance, clawing wildly at his father's arms to pry them off. After getting a decent scratch with the corner of his fingernail to his captor's flesh, Zaccheus grew tired of the boy's fighting. Before Chesta could do anything further, a strong force made his body drop forward against the couch; it's arm embedding itself in his stomach.

Zaccheus had him right where he wanted him...weak and vulnerable. He reached downward, unclasping his belt buckle and slipping the warm leather from those loops. With a snap of the belt flaps against each other, he grinned in delight as Chesta tightened. Somehow, the boy's fear was enjoyable. The seven year old closed his eyes tightly, gulping back his fear. And then it came. The first hit didn't hurt all that much as it struck, but the real pain came afterward. Tears escaped with sobs and apparently the man didn't appreciate the crying because he struck him again. Then a few more times after that. Each pelt was worse as far as pain went, until it just grew unbearable. Chesta's body went limp and all his emotions seemed to go numb. That was when the beating stopped, but it was far too late for relief or any other positive feeling for that matter.

"There. I think you learned what'll happen to ya if ya ever pull a stupid stunt like running off again..." Zaccheus turned away from his son, putting his belt back in place.

Chesta didn't say anything in return, just sort of let the words brush past his ears as well as the foot steps of his father as he exited the room. He closed his eyes slowly and slid down to the floor from his awkward position bent over the couch like that, wincing as his sore bottom made contact with the rug. Zaccheus had already started beating on Valeria; Chesta could hear her cries from the other room. An uncontrollable shudder raced it's way up his spine. The pain, the torn emotions, the fear...it was all too much to bear. So much, that it made him feel ill and so the only thing Chesta could do was throw up. The whole room seemed to be spinning. Faster and Faster until it just gave out into darkness, leaving Chesta fainted near his own vomit. Perhaps...if he was really lucky, he would never wake up again.