Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Dangerous Wounds ❯ Six Years Later... ( Chapter 7 )

Author's Notes: Oi...I'm horrible. I know, I've been completely neglecting the story...but I finally finished a chapter! Go me XD. Anyway...enjoy! As promised...fluffyness and Migel :D;.

"Come on, Migel! If you keep lagging along behind...we're never going to make it to the restaurant..." Benjamin Lavalier paused in his tracks and then spared a glance back toward his younger brother.

"Man, if he keeps dawdling, we're not even gonna make it past your house. Why your Mom chose tonight of all nights to stick us as baby-sitters..." Marlon (Benjamin's best friend) shook his head slightly.

"Feh! I don't need a sitter. I'm thirteen after all," Migel caught up with the two, brushing aside bangs of light brown. "Mom just wanted me to tag along with you guys. Probably to make sure you're not doing anything you're not supposed to..."

"Oh yeah? And what would we be doing that's so wrong?" Benjamin furrowed a brow.

A smug expression crossed the younger sibling's face and he pointed off to one of the more rowdy taverns that had been known for its exotic dancers, "Like going there for instance..."

"H-huh?!" The brother stuttered nervously.

With a chuckle, Marlon slipped between them, laying a hand on both of their shoulders, "Looks like tonight's plans go down the drain. It's a shame really, but we'll take you there sometime when you're older, Migs. For now, why don't we get supper at that place straight ahead?"

"Garusan's? Isn't that place supposed to have some of the best music in Asturia?" Benjamin looked to his friend for confirmation. All he received, however, was a shrug in response, and because of that he brought his hand across the back of Marlon's head. "Idiot! You should know these things! I'm not paying the extra money to go there unless it's got something special about it."

"Well, I'll just assume it does...and we'll see when we actually get in there. How's the sound?" The friend arched a brow.

"By that time it'll be too late!" The elder Lavalier hissed back.

"Can we just go now?! I'm hungry and tired of standing around here quite frankly..." Migel complained, folding his arms over his chest.

"You're brother is right, Benny...let's just go."

"How many times did I tell you -not- to call me 'Benny'?!"

"Let's go, let's go!" Migel shoved them in that direction.

Stumbling ahead, the two older boys nodded, leading the way to Garusan's. Once the restaurant was reached, Benjamin pushed open the door and glanced around. It was fairly crowded for being only that early evening hour and sure enough there was a stage at the end of the dining area. Various strange musical equipment was set up, using what else, but energists as their main power source. It was rumored that such things as 'microphones' and 'speakers' came from the Mystic Moon. There had been many odd stories about people even coming to Gaea from that place. The very-acclaimed tap dance, jazz musician (Bobby Verin) was said to have been a relative of one of those said people--at least that's what it read on the advertisement flyer that was hanging near the door.

Migel stuffed his hands in trouser pockets and glanced about the tavern. It had a nice layout and the food just smelled great. This would definitely be worth the extra money. Of course, he didn't have to pay the bill. That was all on his brother. The thirteen year old looked toward Benjamin and Marlon who were currently arguing over costs as well as seating. Before long, one of the waitresses came over to guide them to a table beside the stage and she handed them the basic menu's.

"So, what can I start you boys out with to drink?"

"Hn...I'll have a glass of ale..." Benjamin nodded, starting to look over the menu.

"Vino for me," Marlon leaned back in the seat.

Migel glanced between them, before he sat up straight and deepened his voice to sound a bit older, "I'll have what my brother's having."

"Oh no you won't!" Benjamin snapped back and looked to the waitress. "Get him a glass of milk."

She nodded and went off. Migel scrunched up his nose at his brother's order, "Milk? I'm not a kid...you could have at least said water. Besides, why can't I have any alcohol?"

"Migel, the legal drinking age around Asturia is fifteen..."

"Yeah, so? I'm -almost- fifteen!"

"Two years off. You don't need to be drinking prematurely."

"But kids in places like Basram get wine with their supper at an earlier age than this!"

"Does this look like Basram to you?"

Marlon blinked at the exchange and then leaned over to Migel, "Don't worry. Benny's just being all uptight."

"I am not! And don't call me Benny."

"Sure, whatever you say..." Marlon could barely contain his snicker. "...Benny."

Benjamin glared at his pal, before he sighed, and decided to change the topic, "Migel's gonna be going out for the military life..."

"Really?" Marlon glanced over at the one-in-question to hear his point of view.

"Uh...yeah. I signed up for dragonslayer trials for this group in Zaibach. They don't start for a few months, but I figured...early bird, right?"

"Well let's just hope you make it. Otherwise, Mom and dad are probably going to try and marry you off."

"They didn't do that for you..." Migel pointed out and then saw that the drinks were being returned.

Benjamin snatched up his glass of ale, taking a swig before it was set down, "That's because I'm gonna be going into guard duty at the Asturian palace."

"But you had all these years. You're only sixteen," The brother stated.

"Yeah well...I'm a late starter. We all can't throw our lives away at the young age of thirteen," Benjamin rolled his eyes.

"That's a talent all your own," Marlon added, patting the boy on the shoulder.

The thirteen year old shook his head, "Let's just order, okay?"

"Being rather bossy today, aren't ya?" The older brother commented before he gave in and began searching over the open menu.

"He's just getting used to being in charge. Maybe he'll get his own troops someday..."

"Ha! Our Migel? A commander? Don't make me laugh."

Migel swatted at his brother with the menu, "What's so unbelievable about that?"

"Ow, hey! I just don't think you have what it takes to be one."

The waitress returned to their table, blinking at the actions before she cleared her throat, "C-can I take your order now?"

The meal in itself had been absolutely delicious. Granted, Migel only had a simple plate of pasta and some garlic bread on the side, but that alone was amazing. Even better than anything his mother made (and her cooking was nothing to be taken lightly). He swirled the bread crust around in the last remnants of the sauce and finished it off, patting his satisfied stomach with a grin.

"Man, I'm stuffed!" Marlon summed up pretty much what the other two were thinking.

Benjamin nodded in agreement and then let his gaze roam the tavern. Those wandering eyes came to a halt on a sign and he read it aloud, " 'Amateur night...fifty tegra cash prize for first place in the singing contest.' Hey, fella's, I think I have an idea how we're gonna pay for this meal..."

"Uh oh. Now way, count me out. There are very few things I don't do and one of those is singing," The friend stated plainly.

"All right, then Migel'll do it."

"What?!" Migel nearly choked on the milk he had just taken in.

"Come -on-, bro. This will get us the money for both meal -and- dessert. We wouldn't have spent anything! Besides, I know you can sing. I heard you humming away in the bathroom yesterday."

The younger boy blushed in embarrassment, "Hey, quit spying on me! Besides, that's different. That's to myself, not in front of an audience..."

"Benny could be considered an audience," Marlon pointed out.

Migel glared over at him, "Shut up..."

"And don't--"

"I know, I know! 'Call you -Benny-'," Marlon finished his friend's sentence for him. "But seriously, Migs, you should give it a try. We'll cheer you on and um...even buy you a drink afterward. A -real- drink. Yanno, liquor of your choice..."

"Really...?" The thirteen year old started to consider everything.

"Marlon, I don't think it's a good idea..." Benjamin shook his head slowly.

"Hey, if Migs is willing to get up on stage and sing, then he deserves it."

"All right! Count me in!" Migel grinned and leapt out of his seat. "I'll just head backstage and enter."

"Good luck!" Both called in unison.

"Thanks!" He responded and then raced into the back.

"So, your brother really that good of a singer?" Marlon glanced toward the older Lavalier.

"Pshaw right! I only convinced him to go so he could make a fool of himself at our amusement."

"Ouch, that's cold, man..."

Migel slipped into the darkened area behind the stage, glancing around a bit uncertainly. With a hint of hesitance, he stepped forward, searching around for the one in charge back there. It was a bit too lightless and unfamiliar for his taste, and he really didn't like the feeling of not knowing which corner to turn or where anyone was. He only walked a few more steps before he decided to go back. Turning around, he knocked into something soft, forcing it to fall back into a table of percussion instruments. Symbols and bells crashed down atop each other.

"Ow..." A quiet feminine voice started.

Migel's eyes widened and he quickly moved to the girl's side just to help her up, "S-sorry! I didn't see you there and it was awfully dark, but I was just a klutz so...sorry..."

Accepting his aid, the young woman smiled some in response, "It's all right. It was as much your fault as my own. I should have been watching where I was going..."

The thirteen year old looked on as she stepped into the faint light that peeked in through cracks in the stage curtain. His lips parted in surprise and those eyes danced over her visage. Rippling waves of auburn spilled over her shoulders and cascaded down to her waist. The voluminous strands ended in different layers, the shortest of those dipped over matching brows. Her eyes were a light sepia and lengthy onyx lashes lined the ends of pale lids. A petite nose and narrow cheeks made her features seem far younger than they actually were. Lips were painted a soft pink hue matching the long folds of her short-sleeved, plain dress and hands clasped in front of herself. That lovely head tilted aside and a look of confusion crossed her face to which Migel blinked, then blushed after realizing he was gawking.

"Sorry...again...uh, do you know where to sign up to perform tonight?"

"Oh! You're performing too? Are you a regular singer here in Asturia?" She questioned.

"Not...really..." Migel rubbed the back of his neck.

"So it's your first time then? Mine too...well -here- anyway. I've sang at other taverns before, but never anything as fancy as this. So unfortunately, I can't help you very much. My mother made all the arrangements for me to perform here. But, I'd be willing to search with you the best I can."

"I'd really appreciate that. After all, what is it they say? Two people fumbling around in the dark is better than one?"

The girl blinked, "I've...never heard that statement before."

"Really? I suppose I just made it up then..."

She giggled lightly and led him through the back room, peeking around before her gaze landed on a sheet of paper that lay face down on a stand, "Ah ha! I think this is it."

"Great, but...what about the ink?"

"If it's not one thing, it's another. Hrm, let's see here, there has to be something to write with somewhere nearby..."

Migel followed her in slowly and glanced around, "Well, the ink's on top of that cabinet. We just need something to use it with."

"What are you two doing in here?" A voice croaked behind them.

Both spun around, a bit startled by the other's sudden appearance. This person was an older lady, dressed with an heir of importance. Strands of a faded grey were pulled back in a bun and she didn't seem too pleased with either of them.

"We were looking for the sign up sheet. I wanted to sing tonight, ma'am..." Migel responded quickly so as to avoid the girl from getting into any trouble.

The woman's features softened somewhat, "Ah, I see. Here, I'll sign you up...what's your name?"

"Migel Lavalier, ma'am."

"Migel..." The girl repeated, nudging him with her shoulder. "That's a nice name."

He glanced over at her and offered a smile, "Thanks."

"There you go, Migel. You'll be going after Clairence Alhart. Just be ready...we're going to start soon. You two should wait backstage," And with that, the elder headed off.

The girl watched her and then turned to face him, "Well, good luck out there, Migel. I'll be watching you from the side!"

He smiled somewhat and looked after her as she stepped out of the room. The sweet scent of lavender lingered in the air, wafting away from each of those tresses; so silken in appearance, he just wanted to tangle fingertips within them. Though, after a moment of dazedly standing around, Migel realized he forgot something crucial.

"H-hey, wait! I never got your name!" He chased after her, only to wind up in the dark backstage area and this time with several people crowded around. "Damn it...I hope I run into her later on."

Several songs later, Migel was still seated behind the curtain on a makeshift chair created from a few crates that he had stacked together. The cluster of performers had filtered out quite a bit, but in the dark, Migel still couldn't tell who was who. For all he knew, the 'mystery girl' had performed already, though he couldn't imagine her singing being anything less than perfect. It just seemed befitting of a girl with her beauty to have such a pretty voice, and he was sure that all of those people who had gone up beforehand couldn't have been her.

After another person finished, many applause rose up in the audience and of course the announcer mentioned the next person which Migel completely disregarded after hearing that it wasn't 'Clairence Alhart.' The boy leaned back on the boxes and listened to the sweet introduction melody that started up. A flute carried the main theme followed up by violins and chimes to create a tranquil tune that was soon joined by a voice. Not just any voice; a beautiful soprano who held notes rich with vibrato yet at the same time light as far as it's depth went. In that very moment, Migel knew it was that girl from before and cursed himself for not listening to her name. He quickly moved up to the curtain, peeking out as best as he could through the slit. Sure enough, his guess proved true once he saw the coils of strawberry blonde. She had the voice of an angel and the beauty to match...well maybe that was Migel's thirteen year old hormones getting the best of him, but he did know one thing. He had to get this mystery girl's name.

The song wrapped up soon afterward and apparently the crowd thought her singing was wonderful as well since the room roared with claps and cheers. It was obvious who was going to win 'Amateur night', that was for sure. Migel couldn't possibly hope to compete with her nor did he really want to. The girl deserved the cash prize, all he wanted to do was meet up with her before she ran off. He maneuvered his way to the other end of the stage, pushing past the person who was next-in-line and he waited for her to return.

Bowing a few times, the girl turned back, disappearing behind the curtain and nearly colliding with Migel. She blinked in surprise, but then just offered a smile, "So I bump into you again, huh? Seems that's just our destiny."

"You were amazing out there..."

"Oh..." A light pink hue touched her cheeks. "Thank you."

"Hey listen, I never caught your name before and I was wondering--"

"And since it seems Clairence Alhart isn't here," The announcer broke into the conversation. "Our next performer listed is Mr. Migel Lavalier..."

The girl gasped slightly and then pushed him out on stage, "That's you! Good luck!"

Migel looked toward her frantically, watching with dread as all he received was a thumbs up. He whipped around, raising one hand to shield the blinding glow of energist light that served to illuminate the stage. Several claps rose up and he heard the wolfish howls of Benjamin and Marlon, who were cheering him on from the crowd. The microphone let out a screech as Migel approached it slowly, studying it for a second. It was the first time he had ever seen one of those up close before. A sudden wave of panic struck him as he realized he never specified what song he was going to sing. The musicians in the orchestra pit looked toward him in question and he leaned forward, clearing his throat nervously.

"Uh...I'm um...gonna sing a song...without...the m-music. It's one I know...without...music and all..."

Migel drew back and looked toward the band members who nodded and relaxed. The current performer, however, could not relax. Not at all. His palms were sweaty and his throat was dry. He leaned in to let a few choked notes crack their way out of his lips. Even after that, it didn't get any easier. As a matter of fact, it seemed the more he sang, the worse it got until his heart pounded in his throat and he started to feel lightheaded. Everything began to swirl about in a dizzy circle and he vaguely heard the cries of concern before the stage wound up slapping him in the face.