Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Journey of Fire and Shadow ❯ Part Five: Aura ( Chapter 5 )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: Feye Morgan 
Anime/Manga: Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Drama | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 07.05.2003 | Pages: 5 | Words: 4.7K | Visits: 237 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Drama | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 07.05.2003 | Pages: 5 | Words: 4.7K | Visits: 237 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer:
*ramdom lawyers show up at Feye's door*
Lawyers: Do you own Escaflowne?
Feye: *blinks* Hey, Fred?
*Fred the Vicious Rubber Attack Chicken looks up from gnawing the legs off a madoushi plushie*
Feye: These fellows think I own Escaflowne.
Fred: *snarls*
Lawyers: *sweatdrop* Um...heh...ok, you don't own Escaflowne! OK!
Feye: I do own Fred, though. Fred? Attack.
*Lawyers run screaming with Fred at their heels*
Feye: Fear the power of the chicken.
I normally don't have poems or song excerpts in my stories, but this short verse was too perfect to resist. Even the title fits what happens in this chapter.
ONWARD!!!!
A JOURNEY OF FIRE AND SHADOW: PART FIVE by Feye Morgan
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
If you are near to the dark
I will tell you 'bout the sun
You are here, no escape
From my visions of the world
You will cry, all alone
But it does not mean a thing to me.
~ "Aura" from the soundtrack of the anime .Hack//SIGN
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Come for me, Van, come." Dilandau's words were spoken softly, but there was not a single Dragonslayer who did not hear them. His words chilled and exhilerated them all at once. Here it would be settled. Once and for all.
"Dragonslayers, you will all conceal yourselves in the surrounding rubble. Take your horses with you. I don't care where you hide, just as long as you can see without being seen. You will -not- interfere unless I say so. Now."
Silently, the soldiers melted away as if they had never been.
Dilandau permitted himself a small smile of satisfaction.
~I have trained them well. My faithful soldiers. My friends~
Dilandau turned his back to the approaching Dragon, and sat calmly down on the ground, his unsheathed katana in his lap. Dilandau closed his eyes, and listened. The wind picked up, ruffling his silvery hair, chilling his neck, as if it anticipated the struggle to come.
Dilandau steeled himself from turning when he heard the Dragon hit the ground. There was silence. The albino waited with gritted teeth for the telltale hiss of a cockpit being opened. But there was nothing. The only sound was of the wind.
~What the hell is he waiting for?~ Dilandau thought irritably, his nervousness increasing constantly. He could -feel- Fanel watching him, the hated cinnamon eyes boring into him.
~Does he suspect, I wonder? Does he recognize me?~ Dilandau had long removed the engineer's uniform (it had given him more protection than his sleeveless tunic, but the feel of -Asturian- clothing turned his stomach), and burned it. It had been too long since he had burned something, however small. The entrancing flames had breathed new life and hope into him.
But Dilandau Albatou would never again use fire to kill.
The Crusade uniform gone, Van would not connect the silver-haired boy with the worker on the ship. He might, however, connect him with someone else.
Dilandau dearly hoped that Van was absolutely positive that he was dead. Being discovered before he was ready would ruin his plan for retribution. Dilandau tightened his grip on the katana slightly. The polished metal traced small slits in his palms. The albino watched bright crimson beads of blood gather on the edges of the blade.
Still there was silence.
Dilandau was about to stand and confront Escaflowne, fed up with waiting, when he heard something else. The familiar sound of mechanical cranking and engine whirring reached his ears. An airship was approaching.
~Damn! Fanel was waiting for reinforcements! Yet again!~
Dilandau turned his head slightly to get a view of the new arrival. The airship was Asturian. It was small, about a quarter of the size of the Crusade. The airship was strangly decorated, almost like a royal transport. While Dilandau was pondering whether to run for it or stay for a fight, the airship landed, and its occupants spilled out. Guards armed with swords and polearms ran to surround the Escaflowne. Another group of guards, with more elaborate uniforms, stood protecting what was obviously nobility. Dilandau squinted against the sun to get a better look. His eyes went wide with recognition and confusion. One of the men was the dark-haired soldier with the green uniform who had greeted Dilandau as Serena. Standing close to him was the strange cat-girl who always accompanied Van, the widely-known merchant Dryden Fassa, Queen Millerna Aston, Prince Chid, and Princess Eires Aston.
~What the?!? Why on Gaea are -they- here? Can the Dragonslayers be that important?~ Dilandau clenched his hands tighter, drawing more blood. Something was definitely not right.
"VAN-SAMA!" The cat-girl screeched and torpedoed towards the white dragon. The long-awaited hiss greeted Dilandau's ears as Van opened his cockpit and jumped down.
"Merle!" Van's voice was leaden with disapproval. "Why are you here? I told you to stay in Palas!"
"But Van-sama-" Merle began. She was cut off by what sounded like a cuff to the head.
Dilandau raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. He doubted the king had ever hit his companion before. Van had changed, Dilandau realized. He had reverted completely to the person Dilandau had encountered on the battlefield when his Slayers had died. Dilandau smiled grimly. This Van definitely deserved to die. He had deserved to die before, but now his punishment was even more earned. Dilandau hit his slayers, but always with good reason. Any slip of theirs could result in their death in battle. But the cat-girl was not a soldier. Van had hit her merely out of annoyance. From somewhere deep inside, Dilandau thought he might even feel sorry for her. He knew what it was like to love someone more than life itself, and then to loose them. This though, must be even worse.
~The Van she knew is dead. He is a ghost haunting a shell. The Van I knew, the demon, has been revealed~
"Go back to the transport. Now."
Dilandau heard Merle's footsteps quietly shuffle away from her 'protector'. Dilandau shifted his attention to Princess Eires and King and Queen Dryden and Millerna Aston. Perhaps he would discover exactly why they had paid the ruins of Fanelia a visit. Apparently Van had the same question.
"Why are you here?" Van snapped, not bothering to be polite. Eires, nonplussed, answered coldly.
"When it became clear to us that the prisoners were headed for Fanelia, we deemed it appropriate that their execution take place here as well. They, after all, were responsible for its destruction. It is only fitting for their deaths to occur at the place of the crime.
~What? No trial? Just the execution? All right. NOW I'm mad~
"Hmm," Van seemed pleased with the idea. "And so naturally you had to be present. However, I thought you had been planning to make this a national event. After all, the people must be quite thirsty for the blood of the demons."
This time Queen Millerna answered. "I had, quite contrary to most presumptions, never planned for this to be a public execution. The war is over. Relishing in seven more casualties would be catering to our bloodlust, which is quite contrary to my immediate goal of promoting the peace."
"So," Dryden said cooly, "now that we have all agreed, let us not waste any more time. Where are the prisoners? I assume that you have found them already."
Van answered with gritted teeth. "I was about the begin the process of hunting them down when I noticed your airship approaching. I decided to wait before asking the stranger sitting over there if he had seen them."
And thus, all attention was diverted to Dilandau. The silver-haired boy heard footsteps approaching him from behind.
"Have you by any chance seen seven individuals, all with swords, lurking about here?" Van's voice came from directly behind him.
~He is such an idiot, just walking up to me like this~ Dilandau thought with disgust. How could Fanel be so blind? ~Oh well. It works for me~
Dilandau's hand clenched on the hilt of his katana. He stood, whipped around, and brought the tip of his sword to Van's throat, all in one smooth, fluid motion. He barely registered the started shouts and cries from the onlookers. His attention was fixed on his archenemy.
"Don't move. No one will draw a weapon or stray from their place unless I say so, or the brat dies." Dilandau's voice carried far in the desolate ruins.
Van was watching him in horror. His brown eyes were locked on Dilandau's ruby ones.
"Recognize me?" Dilandau asked wickedly, tilting his silvery head to one side.
"Dilandau. No. You're dead." Van's eyes were confused, disbelieving. The reality apparently had not sunk in yet.
"I was." Dilandau had no problem in announcing that he had come back to life. He knew that Van was not strong enough to escape the call of the Light of Hades. He himself would not have broken away had his Dragonslayers not been waiting for him.
Van stared at him, utterly confounded.
"What do you mean, you were?" Millerna's voice cracked sharply at him. Dilandau regarded her cooly.
~I will need some witnesses~
"You four, and you," Dilandau snapped, pointing at Eires, Millerna, Dryden, Gaddess, and Merle in turn, "come here." Dilandau motioned to a spot seven feet away from himself and Van. Dilandau growled when they hesitated. "Look, I'm not going to kill you. One, I don't want to, and two, I'd have to move my sword to do that. My weapon is very happy where it is at this brat's throat. I do, however, need reliable, important people to hear me out."
"If you're asking for a pardon, you won't get it," Dryden remarked wryly. "Even I couldn't put a price high enough for something like that. And Van, I thought you said you killed him."
Van was chalk-white, shocked to the core. What he was seeing was impossible. His eyes were huge and horror-striken. His limbs shook. He looked for all the world as if he had just been told that Gaea was about to explode in less than thirty seconds. It took him several moments before he could salvage enough water into his papery mouth to speak.
"I killed you. You bled and fell." Van's words were shaky and disjointed.
Dilandau smiled cruelly. "Yes, you killed me. No one could have survived the wound you gave me. So, I came back. Which brings me to my next point." The albino directed this last part towards his witnesses. "Seeing as I came back from the dead, this is my life number two. Everything I did in my past life was atoned for in my journey to this one. It is the same with my Dragonslayers...those that came back with me. Therefore, there will be no trial. There will be no execution." Dilandau looked at them expectantly, while watching Van through his peripheral vision.
"You actually expect us to believe that?" Eires sneered haughtily.
"No, in fact."
The witnesses blinked confusedly.
~Here goes everything~
"Which is why I have proof." He turned back to Van.
The raven-haired king's eyes were filled with rage and indignation. Reality had hit him full-force, and he was furious.
"How dare you," Van sputtered. Dilandau raised a silver eyebrow quizzically. "How -dare- you come back! I -killed- you! We ended it there, and now you-" Van sputtered, at a loss for words to describe his frustration. Abandoning speech, he knocked Dilandau's blade aside before the albino could react, and lunged for his enemy's throat. Dilandau tensed and dodged, ducking and flipping Van over his back. Quick as a flash, the king rolled to his feet and whipped out his katana in a deadly shriek of metal.
"No one interfere," the king growled, eyes glued to Dilandau's own. "Dilandau Albatou is mine."
~Damn. How am I going to get at his pendant now? Grrr...I'll have to disarm him. Why didn't I confiscate the brat's katana beforehand?~
Van lunged at the silver-haired boy. Dilandau parried his thrust, spun to the side, and attempted to paralyze Van's arm with the hilt of his blade. The albino cursed, barely escaping loosing his head. Van kicked Dilandau in the chest, knocking him flat on his back. With a triumphant yell, the king swung his blade down at Dilandau's throat. He rolled just in time, Van's katana sinking into the earth milliseconds later.
~Here's my chance!~ Dilandau grasped Van's wrist, pinching the nerves painfully. With a gasp of pain, the boy released his weapon. The albino kicked Van backwards, away from his sword. Ruby eyes flaming with hatred, Dilandau grasped the front of Van's shirt and pressed his blade against his throat. Their eyes locked for what seemed an eternity.
~Folken...~
Slowly, Dilandau drew back. He did not move his sword from its place, but his grip on Van lessened slightly.
"You all think I'm a monster," Dilandau said softly. His eyes never left Van's, but his words were for everyone to hear. "I was. But I was also not all that I seemed. If you still wish to punish me for my last life, then judge me for all that I was. You know my crimes. It is now time for you to know the other side."
Dilandau's fingers felt for the thin chain around Van's neck, a specific vision in mind. He lifted the golden links up, dangling the pendant for everyone to see.
"Nani? Put that down Dil-" Van began heatedly. But the blinding flash of brilliance that exploded from the crystal when Dilandau's fingers brushed it cut off his words. Everything within a ten-foot radius, including the 'witnesses', were engulfed in a warm, electric rose aura.
"Hitomi's pendant." Dilandau's voice echoed, ethereal, mystical, within the aura. "It has many powers, prediction being the least of them. Folken could tell you more, I believe, of the technical details, but this pretty stone has the power to reveal truth."
Everything outside the aura vanished to the sight of all within. There was nothing but the glow and the eerilly illuminated figuers bathed in it. All eyes were focused on Dilandau.
"You will now see the other side of my past life. Perhaps you will change your mind about me. Perhaps not. That is up to you. And you, Van, you will see the pain you have caused me. Me, and so many others. I have already done likewise, during the Path of Shadow, and have withstood. The question is, will you?"
Darkness engulfed the watchers. Outside, the seven figures looked frozen in time. Inside, Dilandau braced himself to face his past once more.
~Here it comes~
~*~*~*
A small silver-haired boy of five years lay strapped to a metal table. The room was dark, illuminated only by the bright light glaring from the spotlight over the child. Darkly clad figures in concealing cloaks circled the table like fallen priests celebrating a warped ritual. The little boy stirred slightly and opened his eyes for the first time. He blinked confusedly.
"It wakes."
"The experiment was a success."
"Its memory has been erased."
"It will need to begin its training immediately."
"Where am I?" the boy's voice was lost and frightened. His red eyes were bright with tears of fear.
"It speaks." One of the madoushi bent over the child. "It is scared of us."
"Weakness is not acceptable. It must be the perfect soldier."
"It will learn."
"What shall its name be?"
"It may choose its own name. We have no use for one. Its number is sufficient for our purposes."
The cold, emotionless voices caused the child to shiver. "Let me go!" He began to struggle wildly, an irrational wave of fear drowning him in hysterics. Swiftly, one of the madoushi bent down and stuck a thin needle into the child's arm. He swiftly and mercifully passed into unconsciousness.
~*~*~*~
~I had forgotten that day. It seems so long ago. The madoushi...~ Dilandau shuddered involuntarily, and the next vision engulfed him.
~*~*~*~
A general now long dead stood before a slightly older version of the previous boy. His lips were curled in distaste. He obviously was insulted that he was chosen to teach such a neophyte, when there were so many other, more important, tasks in which he could be engaging himself. But who was he to question Dornkirk-sama?
"You are pathetic," he snarled cruelly. The man began to circle the boy. "I've seen children younger than you able to wield a sword ten times more adequately, Dilandau."
Dilandau hung his head, eyes on the floor. Immediately upon doing so, the general lunged forward and slapped the child, knocking him to the floor.
"You will stand up straight and look me in the eyes when I am reprimanding you, understood?"
Dilandau rose shakily, and met his teacher's eyes. "Yes my lord."
"I will not tolerate weakness. I will not tolerate mistakes. Any slip will be punished severely, and you will take those punishments without complaint. One small mistake in battle will mean your life. One scar is a sign of failure. Especially if you are cut on the face. You must be perfect. I will not accept anything less. Do you understand?"
Dilandau straightened in attention. "Yes my lord."
"Good. Now, again."
~*~*~*~
~My old teacher~ Dilandau thought. ~He was the type of commander I wanted to be. I pushed my boys to the limit, and yet still they died...~
Another vision came...
~*~*~*~
A ten-year old Dilandau crept through the darkened halls of the Vione after curfew. He was clad in his night-clothes; a simple pale green cotton tunic and pants. In his hands he held not a katana, but something smaller and unidentifiable in the darkness. In his other hand he clutched several sheets of paper. Dilandau slipped past guards on night-watch, avoiding making any sound, until he came to a solitary enclosed catwalk. The boy shivered, the night wind ruffling his silvery hair. The full moon glowed brightly, effectively illuminating the child. He walked over to the railing and sat, leaning his back against the bars. He arranged the papers on his lap. Smiling, he lifted the object in his hands.
It was an instrument, not unlike a flute, but simpler and plainer. Dilandau had purchased in in secret one day in the market, when he had managed to slip away from his master. He was beaten horribly for 'wandering off' afterwards, but the instrument had been worth the pain.
Lips parted in a beatific smile, Dilandau raised the pipe to his lips and began to blow. A sad, lonely tune peirced the silence as Dilandau played his heart out. The music flowed perfectly, taking the small child away from his harsh existance. He was so lost in the music that he did not hear the sound of approaching footsteps until the door opened and it was too late. Startled, the tune broke off awkwardly. Dilandau stared at his master in horror. Silently, the general walked up to Dilandau and hauled him to his feet. The child attempted to hide the sheets of music, but his master was too quick. He snatched the papers and tore them to shreds before the boy's striken eyes. The tattered slips fell over the railing and into oblivion.
Dilandau's master held out his hand, eyes on the pipe.
Dilandau clutched the instrument to his chest and shook his head furiously, knuckles white. His eyes were huge with fear and desperation. But it was to no avail. The man tore the instrument from Dilandau's grip and snapped it in twain over his knee. Carelessly, he tossed the pieces over the side of the Vione.
"Come with me," he ordered.
Dilandau just stood there, looking in shock at his master. Furious, the general hit Dilandau, sending him sprawling on the floor. The child's body shook with sobs. His ruby eyes glistened with tears of loss. The general stared at him with disgust. After a moment, he grabbed the albino's wrist, yanked him to his feet, and strode out the door, not caring that Dilandau was half-running, half being drug behind him.
Dilandau's cries could be heard in the enclosure long after the two had departed.
~*~*~*~
~My flute~ Dilandau thought sadly. Tears glimmered in his eyes. His heart ached from the pain the vision had inflicted. But there was more to come. The snapping of his beloved instrument had not been the end of the matter...
~*~*~*~
Dilandau was once again strapped to the same metal table, the dark priests surrounding him. Strange tubes were inserted in the boy's arms, pumping some strange liquid into his system. The madoushi conversed amid the background of Dilandau's screams of sheer terror.
"Music? How is that possible?"
"It is a soldier. It has no need for music." There was a mixture of contempt and confusion in the fallen priest's voice.
"The experiment was faulty. He must be altered again. Harden his mind."
"Altering fate!"
"Altering fate!"
The chant echoed like a chorus of doom. No one paid heed to the small boy's pleads of terror.
"No! Let me go! Stop! Stop! Help me, someone! HELP ME!!!" All words were lost in an endless shriek of agony as the madoushi began their experiment.
~*~*~*~
Dilandau's heart pounded. ~Oh gods. I hate the madoushi. I hate them so much! Why must everyone hurt me?~
The seven people watched as Dilandau was promoted to be captain of an elite force, the Dragonslayers. They watched when he met the fifteen boys for the first time, as they became close friends, joking and playing games while on leave, and as Dilandau trained them harder and harder, pushing them as far as they could go. He punished them harshly for any mistake. But if any watcher thought for a moment that he was being cruel, all they had to do was look at Dilandau's eyes to see the worry and concern behind them. Dilandau's fondness for his Dragonslayers grew. He reached the age of fifteen, and Van entered his life.
~*~*~*~
Dilandau swung at the young king, face twisted in fury. Some of his thoughts became audible to the watchers.
~How dare he! He set me up! He -knew- that blasted 'melef would react like that! I'll make him pay for hurting me!~
Dilandau's mind was in turmoil. To him, there was one goal: he had to recapture Van. But there was no reason not to have a little fun whilst doing so...make him pay...
Searing pain. His face...his perfect face...why did it hurt so? Crimson liquid splashed the floor, staining feathery white locks of hair. Dilandau held his cheek, bent almost double in shock.
"M-my face. You cut my beautiful face..."
~I failed. I've been scarred. I'm not perfect. I'm a...a failure...~
~*~*~*~
Dilandau realized how wrong he'd been. Surely, the act made him furious. He was still quite proud of his looks. That would never change. But Van -had- been acting in self-defense. It's what Van did later that made him so bitter now.
Dilandau watched stoically as the next vision appeared. It was one he had faced before, during the Trials, but it was still one of a series he had been dreading the most.
His Dragonslayers were dying. Again. Only this time, the vision included not only Dilandau's terror and grief, not only the agonized screams of the perishing boys, but Van's joy. The euphoria radiating through the king's expression as he mercilessly slaughtered the Dragonslayers was horrific. He enjoyed fighting as much, maybe even more, than Dilandau had. Dilandau swallowed hard, and prepared himself for the following visions.
~*~*~*~
"You were all incompetants," Dilandau said, voice leaden. He was standing in his armor on the same catwalk on which he had played music so beautifully five years ago. "Guimel, Shesta, Gatti, Dalet, Viole. What glory is there in dying in a fight like that?"
~They're gone. All of them. Gone. It's my fault. I was scarred. That means I'm a failure. I failed them. I killed them all. Curse you Fanelia! Damn you! Now I'm all...alone...~
The pain in the albino's eyes was overwhelming.
"Alone..." Dilandau fell to his knees, breathing heavily. He clutched his mouth as if he might be sick, and then crumpled in a dead faint.
~*~*~*~
The next vision came swiftly, leaving no time for thought.
~*~*~*~
"SHESTA!" Dilandau screamed in panic. He had just awoken, and his worst fears were realized. He was strapped to the hated metal table once again. Years of fear and agony raced through him. Dilandau did not remember that his Dragonslayers were dead. All that his panicked mind could summon was the fact that he was in danger.
"GATTI! DALET! WHERE ARE YOU?"
"It has become unstable."
"Again. We shall have to redo the experiment once more."
"We shall be more thorough this time around. Prepare the subject."
One of the madoushi measured liquid in a syringe. The needle squirted excess fluid into the air. Dilandau's terror-striken eyes watched the crystal droplets fall.
"NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"
~*~*~*~
Every single pain caused by Van was revealed to the watchers. The torture he had endured, the unspeakable emptiness of loss, the creeping feeling of failure and inadequacy. The only way to escape was to kill Van. He must avenge their deaths. He must prove that his life was not wasted. He must destroy the demon...for them.
The watchers witnessed Dilandau's death. The despair in Dilandau's eyes was terrible, but even more disturbing was the look in Van's eyes. Hitomi's loss had hit him hard. He had become a creature of battle, a shoulder to war. It was evident in the look of glee in the king's expression as he watched Dilandau sink to the ground.
Dilandau was surprised when the visions went on to show his journey and redemption in the Path of Shadow. He looked on calmly as he saw himself overcome his crimes and his doubts to be enbraced by a saving pillar of light, carrying him away.
~Now, will Van be able to do the same?~
The visions switched focus. Instead of following Dilandau's life, they turned to Van. It started with a couple petty, foolish choices. The aura quickly skipped to the vision of the Dragonslayers' deaths. It flashed again and again the look of bloodlust etched on his features.
~*~*~*~
Van raised his sword high, towering in the Escaflowne.
"If Gaea cannot be saved from war, then I will herald it. I will be the rhythm of war. I will carry the burden of war."
~*~*~*~
From there on, it went downhill for the boy-king of Fanelia. He became a demon, only barely held in check by Hitomi. Even she became disgusted by his thirst for bloodshed and left briefly for the Mystic Moon.
The last battle was horrific. Van cut down his enemies mercilessly, barely giving them a chance to defend themselves. But such was war. So had Dilandau done. But Dilandau's variables were not all set. He had not had complete freedom. The madoushi hovered always in the background.
Dilandau watched Van's feautes carefully inbetween visions. His expression was hard to read.
~Do you feel remorse, Van? You should~
On it went, through Dilandau's death, through the determined vow to wipe off the face of Gaea any traces of the Zaibach empire, even through his slapping of Merle.
Then, suddenly, the visions stopped. The pendant's glow faded, and the rose aura vanished.
Daylight streamed through, and the watchers blinked as their normal vision returned. Dilandau found himself still clutching Van's shirt, sword at his throat. The albino stepped back, and waited.
Van was pale as death. His cinnamon eyes had lost their color and his limbs were shaking from the exhertion the visions had placed on him. Slowly, Van met Dilandau's eyes.
"I hate you."
Dilandau's expression was stoic. There was no telling by the others exactly what he was thinking.
~I knew he wouldn't make it~
Suddenly Van stiffened, and crumpled to the ground.
"VAN-SAMA!" Merle shrieked. Freed from the vision, she leaped over by the fallen king's body and shook him.
"Van-sama! Wake up!"
But it was no use. Van Fanel was dead.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*ramdom lawyers show up at Feye's door*
Lawyers: Do you own Escaflowne?
Feye: *blinks* Hey, Fred?
*Fred the Vicious Rubber Attack Chicken looks up from gnawing the legs off a madoushi plushie*
Feye: These fellows think I own Escaflowne.
Fred: *snarls*
Lawyers: *sweatdrop* Um...heh...ok, you don't own Escaflowne! OK!
Feye: I do own Fred, though. Fred? Attack.
*Lawyers run screaming with Fred at their heels*
Feye: Fear the power of the chicken.
I normally don't have poems or song excerpts in my stories, but this short verse was too perfect to resist. Even the title fits what happens in this chapter.
ONWARD!!!!
A JOURNEY OF FIRE AND SHADOW: PART FIVE by Feye Morgan
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
If you are near to the dark
I will tell you 'bout the sun
You are here, no escape
From my visions of the world
You will cry, all alone
But it does not mean a thing to me.
~ "Aura" from the soundtrack of the anime .Hack//SIGN
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Come for me, Van, come." Dilandau's words were spoken softly, but there was not a single Dragonslayer who did not hear them. His words chilled and exhilerated them all at once. Here it would be settled. Once and for all.
"Dragonslayers, you will all conceal yourselves in the surrounding rubble. Take your horses with you. I don't care where you hide, just as long as you can see without being seen. You will -not- interfere unless I say so. Now."
Silently, the soldiers melted away as if they had never been.
Dilandau permitted himself a small smile of satisfaction.
~I have trained them well. My faithful soldiers. My friends~
Dilandau turned his back to the approaching Dragon, and sat calmly down on the ground, his unsheathed katana in his lap. Dilandau closed his eyes, and listened. The wind picked up, ruffling his silvery hair, chilling his neck, as if it anticipated the struggle to come.
Dilandau steeled himself from turning when he heard the Dragon hit the ground. There was silence. The albino waited with gritted teeth for the telltale hiss of a cockpit being opened. But there was nothing. The only sound was of the wind.
~What the hell is he waiting for?~ Dilandau thought irritably, his nervousness increasing constantly. He could -feel- Fanel watching him, the hated cinnamon eyes boring into him.
~Does he suspect, I wonder? Does he recognize me?~ Dilandau had long removed the engineer's uniform (it had given him more protection than his sleeveless tunic, but the feel of -Asturian- clothing turned his stomach), and burned it. It had been too long since he had burned something, however small. The entrancing flames had breathed new life and hope into him.
But Dilandau Albatou would never again use fire to kill.
The Crusade uniform gone, Van would not connect the silver-haired boy with the worker on the ship. He might, however, connect him with someone else.
Dilandau dearly hoped that Van was absolutely positive that he was dead. Being discovered before he was ready would ruin his plan for retribution. Dilandau tightened his grip on the katana slightly. The polished metal traced small slits in his palms. The albino watched bright crimson beads of blood gather on the edges of the blade.
Still there was silence.
Dilandau was about to stand and confront Escaflowne, fed up with waiting, when he heard something else. The familiar sound of mechanical cranking and engine whirring reached his ears. An airship was approaching.
~Damn! Fanel was waiting for reinforcements! Yet again!~
Dilandau turned his head slightly to get a view of the new arrival. The airship was Asturian. It was small, about a quarter of the size of the Crusade. The airship was strangly decorated, almost like a royal transport. While Dilandau was pondering whether to run for it or stay for a fight, the airship landed, and its occupants spilled out. Guards armed with swords and polearms ran to surround the Escaflowne. Another group of guards, with more elaborate uniforms, stood protecting what was obviously nobility. Dilandau squinted against the sun to get a better look. His eyes went wide with recognition and confusion. One of the men was the dark-haired soldier with the green uniform who had greeted Dilandau as Serena. Standing close to him was the strange cat-girl who always accompanied Van, the widely-known merchant Dryden Fassa, Queen Millerna Aston, Prince Chid, and Princess Eires Aston.
~What the?!? Why on Gaea are -they- here? Can the Dragonslayers be that important?~ Dilandau clenched his hands tighter, drawing more blood. Something was definitely not right.
"VAN-SAMA!" The cat-girl screeched and torpedoed towards the white dragon. The long-awaited hiss greeted Dilandau's ears as Van opened his cockpit and jumped down.
"Merle!" Van's voice was leaden with disapproval. "Why are you here? I told you to stay in Palas!"
"But Van-sama-" Merle began. She was cut off by what sounded like a cuff to the head.
Dilandau raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. He doubted the king had ever hit his companion before. Van had changed, Dilandau realized. He had reverted completely to the person Dilandau had encountered on the battlefield when his Slayers had died. Dilandau smiled grimly. This Van definitely deserved to die. He had deserved to die before, but now his punishment was even more earned. Dilandau hit his slayers, but always with good reason. Any slip of theirs could result in their death in battle. But the cat-girl was not a soldier. Van had hit her merely out of annoyance. From somewhere deep inside, Dilandau thought he might even feel sorry for her. He knew what it was like to love someone more than life itself, and then to loose them. This though, must be even worse.
~The Van she knew is dead. He is a ghost haunting a shell. The Van I knew, the demon, has been revealed~
"Go back to the transport. Now."
Dilandau heard Merle's footsteps quietly shuffle away from her 'protector'. Dilandau shifted his attention to Princess Eires and King and Queen Dryden and Millerna Aston. Perhaps he would discover exactly why they had paid the ruins of Fanelia a visit. Apparently Van had the same question.
"Why are you here?" Van snapped, not bothering to be polite. Eires, nonplussed, answered coldly.
"When it became clear to us that the prisoners were headed for Fanelia, we deemed it appropriate that their execution take place here as well. They, after all, were responsible for its destruction. It is only fitting for their deaths to occur at the place of the crime.
~What? No trial? Just the execution? All right. NOW I'm mad~
"Hmm," Van seemed pleased with the idea. "And so naturally you had to be present. However, I thought you had been planning to make this a national event. After all, the people must be quite thirsty for the blood of the demons."
This time Queen Millerna answered. "I had, quite contrary to most presumptions, never planned for this to be a public execution. The war is over. Relishing in seven more casualties would be catering to our bloodlust, which is quite contrary to my immediate goal of promoting the peace."
"So," Dryden said cooly, "now that we have all agreed, let us not waste any more time. Where are the prisoners? I assume that you have found them already."
Van answered with gritted teeth. "I was about the begin the process of hunting them down when I noticed your airship approaching. I decided to wait before asking the stranger sitting over there if he had seen them."
And thus, all attention was diverted to Dilandau. The silver-haired boy heard footsteps approaching him from behind.
"Have you by any chance seen seven individuals, all with swords, lurking about here?" Van's voice came from directly behind him.
~He is such an idiot, just walking up to me like this~ Dilandau thought with disgust. How could Fanel be so blind? ~Oh well. It works for me~
Dilandau's hand clenched on the hilt of his katana. He stood, whipped around, and brought the tip of his sword to Van's throat, all in one smooth, fluid motion. He barely registered the started shouts and cries from the onlookers. His attention was fixed on his archenemy.
"Don't move. No one will draw a weapon or stray from their place unless I say so, or the brat dies." Dilandau's voice carried far in the desolate ruins.
Van was watching him in horror. His brown eyes were locked on Dilandau's ruby ones.
"Recognize me?" Dilandau asked wickedly, tilting his silvery head to one side.
"Dilandau. No. You're dead." Van's eyes were confused, disbelieving. The reality apparently had not sunk in yet.
"I was." Dilandau had no problem in announcing that he had come back to life. He knew that Van was not strong enough to escape the call of the Light of Hades. He himself would not have broken away had his Dragonslayers not been waiting for him.
Van stared at him, utterly confounded.
"What do you mean, you were?" Millerna's voice cracked sharply at him. Dilandau regarded her cooly.
~I will need some witnesses~
"You four, and you," Dilandau snapped, pointing at Eires, Millerna, Dryden, Gaddess, and Merle in turn, "come here." Dilandau motioned to a spot seven feet away from himself and Van. Dilandau growled when they hesitated. "Look, I'm not going to kill you. One, I don't want to, and two, I'd have to move my sword to do that. My weapon is very happy where it is at this brat's throat. I do, however, need reliable, important people to hear me out."
"If you're asking for a pardon, you won't get it," Dryden remarked wryly. "Even I couldn't put a price high enough for something like that. And Van, I thought you said you killed him."
Van was chalk-white, shocked to the core. What he was seeing was impossible. His eyes were huge and horror-striken. His limbs shook. He looked for all the world as if he had just been told that Gaea was about to explode in less than thirty seconds. It took him several moments before he could salvage enough water into his papery mouth to speak.
"I killed you. You bled and fell." Van's words were shaky and disjointed.
Dilandau smiled cruelly. "Yes, you killed me. No one could have survived the wound you gave me. So, I came back. Which brings me to my next point." The albino directed this last part towards his witnesses. "Seeing as I came back from the dead, this is my life number two. Everything I did in my past life was atoned for in my journey to this one. It is the same with my Dragonslayers...those that came back with me. Therefore, there will be no trial. There will be no execution." Dilandau looked at them expectantly, while watching Van through his peripheral vision.
"You actually expect us to believe that?" Eires sneered haughtily.
"No, in fact."
The witnesses blinked confusedly.
~Here goes everything~
"Which is why I have proof." He turned back to Van.
The raven-haired king's eyes were filled with rage and indignation. Reality had hit him full-force, and he was furious.
"How dare you," Van sputtered. Dilandau raised a silver eyebrow quizzically. "How -dare- you come back! I -killed- you! We ended it there, and now you-" Van sputtered, at a loss for words to describe his frustration. Abandoning speech, he knocked Dilandau's blade aside before the albino could react, and lunged for his enemy's throat. Dilandau tensed and dodged, ducking and flipping Van over his back. Quick as a flash, the king rolled to his feet and whipped out his katana in a deadly shriek of metal.
"No one interfere," the king growled, eyes glued to Dilandau's own. "Dilandau Albatou is mine."
~Damn. How am I going to get at his pendant now? Grrr...I'll have to disarm him. Why didn't I confiscate the brat's katana beforehand?~
Van lunged at the silver-haired boy. Dilandau parried his thrust, spun to the side, and attempted to paralyze Van's arm with the hilt of his blade. The albino cursed, barely escaping loosing his head. Van kicked Dilandau in the chest, knocking him flat on his back. With a triumphant yell, the king swung his blade down at Dilandau's throat. He rolled just in time, Van's katana sinking into the earth milliseconds later.
~Here's my chance!~ Dilandau grasped Van's wrist, pinching the nerves painfully. With a gasp of pain, the boy released his weapon. The albino kicked Van backwards, away from his sword. Ruby eyes flaming with hatred, Dilandau grasped the front of Van's shirt and pressed his blade against his throat. Their eyes locked for what seemed an eternity.
~Folken...~
Slowly, Dilandau drew back. He did not move his sword from its place, but his grip on Van lessened slightly.
"You all think I'm a monster," Dilandau said softly. His eyes never left Van's, but his words were for everyone to hear. "I was. But I was also not all that I seemed. If you still wish to punish me for my last life, then judge me for all that I was. You know my crimes. It is now time for you to know the other side."
Dilandau's fingers felt for the thin chain around Van's neck, a specific vision in mind. He lifted the golden links up, dangling the pendant for everyone to see.
"Nani? Put that down Dil-" Van began heatedly. But the blinding flash of brilliance that exploded from the crystal when Dilandau's fingers brushed it cut off his words. Everything within a ten-foot radius, including the 'witnesses', were engulfed in a warm, electric rose aura.
"Hitomi's pendant." Dilandau's voice echoed, ethereal, mystical, within the aura. "It has many powers, prediction being the least of them. Folken could tell you more, I believe, of the technical details, but this pretty stone has the power to reveal truth."
Everything outside the aura vanished to the sight of all within. There was nothing but the glow and the eerilly illuminated figuers bathed in it. All eyes were focused on Dilandau.
"You will now see the other side of my past life. Perhaps you will change your mind about me. Perhaps not. That is up to you. And you, Van, you will see the pain you have caused me. Me, and so many others. I have already done likewise, during the Path of Shadow, and have withstood. The question is, will you?"
Darkness engulfed the watchers. Outside, the seven figures looked frozen in time. Inside, Dilandau braced himself to face his past once more.
~Here it comes~
~*~*~*
A small silver-haired boy of five years lay strapped to a metal table. The room was dark, illuminated only by the bright light glaring from the spotlight over the child. Darkly clad figures in concealing cloaks circled the table like fallen priests celebrating a warped ritual. The little boy stirred slightly and opened his eyes for the first time. He blinked confusedly.
"It wakes."
"The experiment was a success."
"Its memory has been erased."
"It will need to begin its training immediately."
"Where am I?" the boy's voice was lost and frightened. His red eyes were bright with tears of fear.
"It speaks." One of the madoushi bent over the child. "It is scared of us."
"Weakness is not acceptable. It must be the perfect soldier."
"It will learn."
"What shall its name be?"
"It may choose its own name. We have no use for one. Its number is sufficient for our purposes."
The cold, emotionless voices caused the child to shiver. "Let me go!" He began to struggle wildly, an irrational wave of fear drowning him in hysterics. Swiftly, one of the madoushi bent down and stuck a thin needle into the child's arm. He swiftly and mercifully passed into unconsciousness.
~*~*~*~
~I had forgotten that day. It seems so long ago. The madoushi...~ Dilandau shuddered involuntarily, and the next vision engulfed him.
~*~*~*~
A general now long dead stood before a slightly older version of the previous boy. His lips were curled in distaste. He obviously was insulted that he was chosen to teach such a neophyte, when there were so many other, more important, tasks in which he could be engaging himself. But who was he to question Dornkirk-sama?
"You are pathetic," he snarled cruelly. The man began to circle the boy. "I've seen children younger than you able to wield a sword ten times more adequately, Dilandau."
Dilandau hung his head, eyes on the floor. Immediately upon doing so, the general lunged forward and slapped the child, knocking him to the floor.
"You will stand up straight and look me in the eyes when I am reprimanding you, understood?"
Dilandau rose shakily, and met his teacher's eyes. "Yes my lord."
"I will not tolerate weakness. I will not tolerate mistakes. Any slip will be punished severely, and you will take those punishments without complaint. One small mistake in battle will mean your life. One scar is a sign of failure. Especially if you are cut on the face. You must be perfect. I will not accept anything less. Do you understand?"
Dilandau straightened in attention. "Yes my lord."
"Good. Now, again."
~*~*~*~
~My old teacher~ Dilandau thought. ~He was the type of commander I wanted to be. I pushed my boys to the limit, and yet still they died...~
Another vision came...
~*~*~*~
A ten-year old Dilandau crept through the darkened halls of the Vione after curfew. He was clad in his night-clothes; a simple pale green cotton tunic and pants. In his hands he held not a katana, but something smaller and unidentifiable in the darkness. In his other hand he clutched several sheets of paper. Dilandau slipped past guards on night-watch, avoiding making any sound, until he came to a solitary enclosed catwalk. The boy shivered, the night wind ruffling his silvery hair. The full moon glowed brightly, effectively illuminating the child. He walked over to the railing and sat, leaning his back against the bars. He arranged the papers on his lap. Smiling, he lifted the object in his hands.
It was an instrument, not unlike a flute, but simpler and plainer. Dilandau had purchased in in secret one day in the market, when he had managed to slip away from his master. He was beaten horribly for 'wandering off' afterwards, but the instrument had been worth the pain.
Lips parted in a beatific smile, Dilandau raised the pipe to his lips and began to blow. A sad, lonely tune peirced the silence as Dilandau played his heart out. The music flowed perfectly, taking the small child away from his harsh existance. He was so lost in the music that he did not hear the sound of approaching footsteps until the door opened and it was too late. Startled, the tune broke off awkwardly. Dilandau stared at his master in horror. Silently, the general walked up to Dilandau and hauled him to his feet. The child attempted to hide the sheets of music, but his master was too quick. He snatched the papers and tore them to shreds before the boy's striken eyes. The tattered slips fell over the railing and into oblivion.
Dilandau's master held out his hand, eyes on the pipe.
Dilandau clutched the instrument to his chest and shook his head furiously, knuckles white. His eyes were huge with fear and desperation. But it was to no avail. The man tore the instrument from Dilandau's grip and snapped it in twain over his knee. Carelessly, he tossed the pieces over the side of the Vione.
"Come with me," he ordered.
Dilandau just stood there, looking in shock at his master. Furious, the general hit Dilandau, sending him sprawling on the floor. The child's body shook with sobs. His ruby eyes glistened with tears of loss. The general stared at him with disgust. After a moment, he grabbed the albino's wrist, yanked him to his feet, and strode out the door, not caring that Dilandau was half-running, half being drug behind him.
Dilandau's cries could be heard in the enclosure long after the two had departed.
~*~*~*~
~My flute~ Dilandau thought sadly. Tears glimmered in his eyes. His heart ached from the pain the vision had inflicted. But there was more to come. The snapping of his beloved instrument had not been the end of the matter...
~*~*~*~
Dilandau was once again strapped to the same metal table, the dark priests surrounding him. Strange tubes were inserted in the boy's arms, pumping some strange liquid into his system. The madoushi conversed amid the background of Dilandau's screams of sheer terror.
"Music? How is that possible?"
"It is a soldier. It has no need for music." There was a mixture of contempt and confusion in the fallen priest's voice.
"The experiment was faulty. He must be altered again. Harden his mind."
"Altering fate!"
"Altering fate!"
The chant echoed like a chorus of doom. No one paid heed to the small boy's pleads of terror.
"No! Let me go! Stop! Stop! Help me, someone! HELP ME!!!" All words were lost in an endless shriek of agony as the madoushi began their experiment.
~*~*~*~
Dilandau's heart pounded. ~Oh gods. I hate the madoushi. I hate them so much! Why must everyone hurt me?~
The seven people watched as Dilandau was promoted to be captain of an elite force, the Dragonslayers. They watched when he met the fifteen boys for the first time, as they became close friends, joking and playing games while on leave, and as Dilandau trained them harder and harder, pushing them as far as they could go. He punished them harshly for any mistake. But if any watcher thought for a moment that he was being cruel, all they had to do was look at Dilandau's eyes to see the worry and concern behind them. Dilandau's fondness for his Dragonslayers grew. He reached the age of fifteen, and Van entered his life.
~*~*~*~
Dilandau swung at the young king, face twisted in fury. Some of his thoughts became audible to the watchers.
~How dare he! He set me up! He -knew- that blasted 'melef would react like that! I'll make him pay for hurting me!~
Dilandau's mind was in turmoil. To him, there was one goal: he had to recapture Van. But there was no reason not to have a little fun whilst doing so...make him pay...
Searing pain. His face...his perfect face...why did it hurt so? Crimson liquid splashed the floor, staining feathery white locks of hair. Dilandau held his cheek, bent almost double in shock.
"M-my face. You cut my beautiful face..."
~I failed. I've been scarred. I'm not perfect. I'm a...a failure...~
~*~*~*~
Dilandau realized how wrong he'd been. Surely, the act made him furious. He was still quite proud of his looks. That would never change. But Van -had- been acting in self-defense. It's what Van did later that made him so bitter now.
Dilandau watched stoically as the next vision appeared. It was one he had faced before, during the Trials, but it was still one of a series he had been dreading the most.
His Dragonslayers were dying. Again. Only this time, the vision included not only Dilandau's terror and grief, not only the agonized screams of the perishing boys, but Van's joy. The euphoria radiating through the king's expression as he mercilessly slaughtered the Dragonslayers was horrific. He enjoyed fighting as much, maybe even more, than Dilandau had. Dilandau swallowed hard, and prepared himself for the following visions.
~*~*~*~
"You were all incompetants," Dilandau said, voice leaden. He was standing in his armor on the same catwalk on which he had played music so beautifully five years ago. "Guimel, Shesta, Gatti, Dalet, Viole. What glory is there in dying in a fight like that?"
~They're gone. All of them. Gone. It's my fault. I was scarred. That means I'm a failure. I failed them. I killed them all. Curse you Fanelia! Damn you! Now I'm all...alone...~
The pain in the albino's eyes was overwhelming.
"Alone..." Dilandau fell to his knees, breathing heavily. He clutched his mouth as if he might be sick, and then crumpled in a dead faint.
~*~*~*~
The next vision came swiftly, leaving no time for thought.
~*~*~*~
"SHESTA!" Dilandau screamed in panic. He had just awoken, and his worst fears were realized. He was strapped to the hated metal table once again. Years of fear and agony raced through him. Dilandau did not remember that his Dragonslayers were dead. All that his panicked mind could summon was the fact that he was in danger.
"GATTI! DALET! WHERE ARE YOU?"
"It has become unstable."
"Again. We shall have to redo the experiment once more."
"We shall be more thorough this time around. Prepare the subject."
One of the madoushi measured liquid in a syringe. The needle squirted excess fluid into the air. Dilandau's terror-striken eyes watched the crystal droplets fall.
"NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"
~*~*~*~
Every single pain caused by Van was revealed to the watchers. The torture he had endured, the unspeakable emptiness of loss, the creeping feeling of failure and inadequacy. The only way to escape was to kill Van. He must avenge their deaths. He must prove that his life was not wasted. He must destroy the demon...for them.
The watchers witnessed Dilandau's death. The despair in Dilandau's eyes was terrible, but even more disturbing was the look in Van's eyes. Hitomi's loss had hit him hard. He had become a creature of battle, a shoulder to war. It was evident in the look of glee in the king's expression as he watched Dilandau sink to the ground.
Dilandau was surprised when the visions went on to show his journey and redemption in the Path of Shadow. He looked on calmly as he saw himself overcome his crimes and his doubts to be enbraced by a saving pillar of light, carrying him away.
~Now, will Van be able to do the same?~
The visions switched focus. Instead of following Dilandau's life, they turned to Van. It started with a couple petty, foolish choices. The aura quickly skipped to the vision of the Dragonslayers' deaths. It flashed again and again the look of bloodlust etched on his features.
~*~*~*~
Van raised his sword high, towering in the Escaflowne.
"If Gaea cannot be saved from war, then I will herald it. I will be the rhythm of war. I will carry the burden of war."
~*~*~*~
From there on, it went downhill for the boy-king of Fanelia. He became a demon, only barely held in check by Hitomi. Even she became disgusted by his thirst for bloodshed and left briefly for the Mystic Moon.
The last battle was horrific. Van cut down his enemies mercilessly, barely giving them a chance to defend themselves. But such was war. So had Dilandau done. But Dilandau's variables were not all set. He had not had complete freedom. The madoushi hovered always in the background.
Dilandau watched Van's feautes carefully inbetween visions. His expression was hard to read.
~Do you feel remorse, Van? You should~
On it went, through Dilandau's death, through the determined vow to wipe off the face of Gaea any traces of the Zaibach empire, even through his slapping of Merle.
Then, suddenly, the visions stopped. The pendant's glow faded, and the rose aura vanished.
Daylight streamed through, and the watchers blinked as their normal vision returned. Dilandau found himself still clutching Van's shirt, sword at his throat. The albino stepped back, and waited.
Van was pale as death. His cinnamon eyes had lost their color and his limbs were shaking from the exhertion the visions had placed on him. Slowly, Van met Dilandau's eyes.
"I hate you."
Dilandau's expression was stoic. There was no telling by the others exactly what he was thinking.
~I knew he wouldn't make it~
Suddenly Van stiffened, and crumpled to the ground.
"VAN-SAMA!" Merle shrieked. Freed from the vision, she leaped over by the fallen king's body and shook him.
"Van-sama! Wake up!"
But it was no use. Van Fanel was dead.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~