Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ New Blood ❯ Reconnaisance ( Chapter 2 )

"AHH!!"

Shesta forced his guymelef into a crouch as his opponent's Crima claw shrieked through the air just above him. He countered in a split second, righting himself in time to fire off the liquid metal into a wicked blade and hook the other guymelef's arm. His free hand snapped the controls in a single rapid motion, forcing his second weapon-arm up, aiming it straight for his opponent's cockpit. He grinned at the hesitation of the other pilot. "Watch it!" he shouted, "I'd think you were actually trying to kill me!"

A vicious lurch from the other melef broke Shesta's hold on him. "No." his opponent's response crackled through the comm system, "Just doing my best to serve Dilandau." The other pilot fired off a quick shot with the Crima claw, whipping it about at the last second and securely entangling the leg of Shesta's Alseides.

He cried out in surprise, realizing the danger too late. The Crima claw lashed right into the impaired leg, knocking Shesta completely off balance. He let out a wail as the view outside turned from landscape abruptly to brilliant blue sky and braced himself for impact. Vibrations rippled through him, matching the monstrous crash as several tons of metal collided with the earth. He cringed as the last of the rattles shook him from head to toe and subsided, leaving him still jarred but unhurt. He slumped back, gazing disappointedly out the slits in the front of his cockpit. Clouds drifted lazily by above him, disrupted in one corner by the twisted shadow of the Vionne.

Outside, his opponent retracted the claws and dropped his Alseides back to a crouch. With a click and a swish, the cockpit slid open and a tall boy with unbelievably straight dark brown hair hopped nimbly out and down to the ground. He walked quickly over to the other melef, tapping on the side of it with his knuckles, "Hey. You okay in there?"

A muffled snort sounded from within as Shesta shifted himself downward, trying to reach the switch to open the hatch and let him out, "A little tangled. Hang on."

"No problem." The other boy clambered up the side of the Alseides, dropping to a crouch outside the cockpit hatch. He waited for a few moments, listening to the struggle inside, then hopped back as the door slid open.

With a grunt, Shesta pulled himself up to sitting. He paused partway as a hand came into his vision. He looked up, then smiled gratefully and took the offered assistance, "Thanks, Dallet."

"As I said, no problem." The taller Dragonslayer hauled his companion back to his feet, "But you have to be a bit more careful next time. You left yourself wide open for that attack. If your supports are gone, the rest of you goes too, you know. Less defense and more offense wouldn't hurt either. You didn't even get a scratch on me."

"Yeah. Thanks for the tip. I'll remember that."

They both looked down at a crackle of static from Shesta's comm unit. A moment later and Dilandau's voice came through loud and clear, "It's good to see some improvement, Dallet. Shesta, I'd like to see you try again tomorrow. You're not up to my expectations. Again. Do me a favor and try one of these days, will you?"

Shesta grimaced, "Yes, Sir."

"Both of you return to the Vionne immediately. There's lots more to be done."

"Yes, Sir."

"Wow," Guimel leaned over the railing, watching the battle below, "Those two are pretty closely matched, aren't they?"

Shesta glanced over, "I know one of them is Gatty. Whose the other one? I don't know him."

"Gabriel. You wouldn't know him. He's a bit of a loner, but very aggressive in a fight," he grinned, pointing towards the distant earth just as a loud crash of blade against blade echoed up to them, "There. See? Perfect. The guy's an absolute brute in that thing."

Dallet snorted, leaning back on his heels and crossing his arms, "He's doesn't always do what he's told, but he does the job."

"Maybe a little too well. One of these days he's going to hurt someone."

Shesta nodded, watching Gabriel force Gatty's guymelef back several paces with a series of vicious swings, "Strength isn't a bad thing, but he's not being decisive enough. He should be going for more precise attacks. It would be over faster that way."

Guimel laughed, "That's just not his style. There's a reason Lord Dilandau doesn't like him. He's too domineering."

"It's not his fault," Dallet said quietly, "Dilandau doesn't trust him. He doesn't give him any space. It's not exactly fair play."

Shesta straightened, looking somewhat peeved, "It's not about fairness. It's about bringing out the best in each soldier. Questioning Dilandau's methods…"

Dallet shook his head patiently, "I wasn't questioning Dilandau. I was just observing that he's tougher on Gabriel than on the rest of us."

"That's probably a good thing," Guimel stated, not looking up, "We're the most disciplined group out of all of them thanks to that."

"He does take it a bit too seriously, you have to admit, even if Gabriel is a bit hot headed." Dallet said back, "We're all serving the same master in the end anyway. I don't think any of us would actually question orders knowing they came from Emperor Dornkirk. Dilandau doesn't need to impose such a tight reign himself."

A shriek of metal and a loud curse bounced eerily off of the nearby mountainside down below. Gatty had finally regained the upper hand, knocking Gabriel back several paces and nearly toppling his guymelef. It teetered precariously for a second, then abruptly recovered and slammed its gun arm down across Gatty's own weapon, throwing him off balance.

"Good grief," Guimel ran a hand nervously through his white blonde curls, "Another hit like that and Gabriel's going to damage Gatty's guymelef."

Shesta leaned in for a better look, "You'd think he'd know better…"

"You're not perfect yourself, Shesta. We all have things to learn." Dallet's smirked.

Shesta raised his eyebrows, opening his mouth to speak, but was cut off as an ear splitting screech and a distant scream rent the air.

Guimel let out a sudden whoop, "There he goes!"

The other two rushed back to the rail in time to see the distant blue shape of Gatty's guymelef slam shoulder-first into a boulder sitting amid the field-grasses. Gabriel's guymelef didn't stop it's attack, however, and all three viewers gasped as the Crima claw blade tore into the torso of the guymelef. They could just barely hear Gatty shouting in desperation, calling for reason.

A bit closer were Dilandau's angry shouts from the room behind them. "Gabriel! Back off immediately! This is training, not a war! Gabriel! Damnnit! Break off your attack, you idiot! GABRIEL!"

Guimel was visibly grimacing. Down below, Gatty had finally managed to fire off his own Crima claw, embedding it in the arm of Gabriel's mech, holding him off for the few seconds he needed to get his guymelef back to standing. They heard Gatty shout a curse and Gabriel finally started to ease off his attack. He froze in mid slash, hesitated, then finally lowered his weapon.

Dilandau screamed in wordless frustration, "Gabriel! Report NOW! What that hell were you thinking?!"

There was silence for a few moments. Dallet, Shesta, and Guimel skittered a little closer to the door. Dilandau was leaning stiffly over the communications console, his hair obscuring his expression. The other Dragonslayers were a good distance behind him - as close to the wall as they could get - and discreetly casting nervous glances to each other.

"Gabriel. Respond."

"My apologies, sir," Gabriel's quiet voice finally broke in. He didn't sound apologetic in the least. "I believe I got a little carried away…"

"A little? A LITTLE?! You could have killed him, you bastard!! I want the both of you back here immediately!"

"Yes, sir."

Dilandau flicked off the comm system and rose back to standing, brushing his silvery hair back into place. The snarl on his face could have terrified a land dragon if one had been within convenient range. As it was, it was enough to instill a respectfully fearful silence. "The rest of you are dismissed for now. Back to your duties. We'll continue tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir."

They filed out, joined at the last second by the trio. Shesta tagged along beside Dallet, looking for an instant as if he still wanted to argue his point, but thankfully eased off and slipped back into the crowd.

Dallet watched him go. His expression remained a fixed mask of unreadable calm, but his mind was far from tranquil. Gabriel's actions and his observations of Shesta were filed into the back of his mind as he split off from the rest of his team, moving quickly away into the shadows. He had some work to do.

He was an impossibly dark splotch against a darker sky within the indigo shadows. Aqua-silver spikes of hair glistened in the shifting moonlight from the window. It danced for a moment over the metal of his right arm, a wound that no longer felt pain or any other sensation. His scarlet eyes, dark and intelligent, gazed unblinking at the world outside. The stars glittered brightly overhead, each one of them perfectly visible even beneath the overbearing glow of the two moons hovering in the sky. Beneath, the land had its own light to give. The lights of Palas, capitol of Asturia, glittered like so many eternal sparks on the shadowed surface of Gaea.

Folken let out a long disappointed breath, hunching down into the folds of his dark cloak. It all seemed so much more beautiful at a distance. It always did. Fanelia, Asturia, Freid, they always laid themselves out so wonderfully as they passed beneath the fortress, a grave contradiction to the grievances occurring in the hiding of shadow and secrecy.

A grim comparison offered itself, and Folken's eyes narrowed further. The world was a deceitful place, and he himself could identify with it beyond all others. Since he'd ended his term as a sorcerer, such dark thoughts had often surfaced. He regretted those time for all they'd taught him, both the good and the bad. He'd learned things that his people in Fanelia would never have even dreamed of. Many of those things he himself would never have wanted to dream of, but fate had put them before him and he had participated in the hopes of understanding. Looking back, he still failed to find the promise of something wonderful in those times. Once he had thought that he'd seen it, but it had slipped away. Faith was a hard thing to keep where morality often failed. On such dark and silent evenings, the screams of those he'd helped to hurt still echoed in the recesses of his thoughts.

Tonight was no different, albeit more concentrated than he was used to. The day's incidents had served to revive a memory, something that he usually didn't allow himself. This particular situation had called for reflection just loud enough to hold his attention, however, and now he found himself forced to deal with it. After all, it was much too close to home for mere dismissal.

Gabriel had been twelve years old when Folken had found him. He was rebellious, strong minded, and short tempered with a complexion to match. There first encounter would have gone unnoticed if Gabriel hadn't taken the first swing in a fight that had begun fiercely and ended quickly. The boy had escaped with injuries to nothing more than his pride, and the sheer ferocity of his defensiveness had struck Folken as serendipitous. Missing an opportunity that had so readily provided itself would have been a mistake for certain, and so Folken had followed.

At the time, the Dragonslayers were a mere dream - a planned addition to the already expansive military for use in the coming war and as a response to the development of their newest guymelef, the Alseides, but nothing more. The mention of the project was enough to bring a conniving glint to Gabriel's eye when first he was told, however, and he'd readily agreed, as had his family. It was one of the simplest tasks Folken had ever undertaken, but refusal was next to impossible. After all, Gabriel had been offered the chance to become a hero. The equation was simplicity in itself.

Folken's prosthetic arm clicked as he lifted it against his chin, depressively thoughtful. The plan hadn't worked out nearly so efficiently. The offer of such a privileged place in the hierarchy was tempting enough to pull Gabriel from his family, true enough, but what followed nearly broke what was sought. New procedures designed to harness the fire that drove their subject came so close to extinguishing it, that it had finally driven Folken from his position completely. He'd stepped out, unable to bear the fact that he'd ruined the child, corrupted him to utterly. The other sorcerers scorned him still for his supposed cowardice.

Soulless monsters they were. Soulless and uncaring.

It was two years before he saw Gabriel again. By then, there was nothing left of what had existed before. His natural spirit had been destroyed and replaced with a cold hatred that was terrifying in one so young. Still, he was proclaimed a success. His skills in battle were inhuman, his mind sharper than a Crima Claw. He became the first of the Dragonslayers under Dilandau's command, and the folly of that decision was lost on all but Folken himself. He alone saw the truth. Gabriel's strength was unparalleled, but his foresight was blind. He acted without care, destroyed without thought. He had become a wild thing, unreachable and unreasonable.

But he hid it well in the public eye. He could match wits with the best on any given day and beat them on a good one. When a weapon was out of his grasp, he was a shadow minded strategist, forever plotting and planning.

But against whom? The question rang out in Folken's mind, disturbing him further. The boy had no love of his placement. He professed loyalty, but Folken had caught that malicious glint more than once. The first time, it had been followed by an attack on Dilandau's very life despite the fact that no tie had ever truly formed between the attacker and Gabriel himself. Folken suspected, but he could not prove. It was typical and frustrating at best.

The door chime echoed sharply in the stiff silence, jerking Folken rudely out of his thoughts. He turned to face the doorway then rose from his perch, his robes rustling as they settled once more about his feet. "Enter."

Light flooded the room, banishing the shadows for an instant before being recalled by the entrance of a dark silhouette. Folken smiled quietly as he recognized the visitor. She stood only a little shorter than himself with shoulder-length curled black hair and a sharp blue eyed gaze that could stun the hardest of warriors. As always, she was dressed in the black and scarlet uniform of a Dragonslayers commander, wearing it proudly as she strode into the room, "Lord Folken, how nice to find you here. Some days it's not such an easy task."

"What brings you here at such a time of night, Commander Reika?"

She smiled, "Information, my Lord Folken, that I believe you'd be interested in." She allowed a cat-like grin to flash across her features for a moment, then continued. "As of late, Dilandau has been complaining about a certain member of his troops: Gabriel Larent."

How ironic…

Folken sighed, "If you're referring to this afternoon…"

"Precisely. Not the first time, is it?"

"The nineteenth such incident. I know. You remind me every time, Reika. One of these days I expect to find the wall where you keep your tally."

She scowled, "Now, my lord, there's no need for such a tone. I merely wish to serve." She bowed low and straightened once again with a grin, "As I had said, however, this is not the first time, nor is it to be the last. Indeed, I have evidence that things are about to become much worse."

"Enlighten me."

"As you wish, sir." She paused for a breath, taking the time to cast her gaze across the room before returning it to Folken. "You're familiar with a second of Dilandau's troops by the name of Dallet, I believe, sir?"

"Of course. One of our most loyal."

She grinned wickedly, "Not so, my lord."

Folken's expression became decidedly more skeptical, "Explain."

"You had not heard of this evening's lecture, I suppose then, my lord. Dilandau was attacked while disciplining Gabriel and I saw myself when Dallet came back through the door. Gabriel was right behind him, my lord, and the both of them were injured. Dilandau's temper is not something to be trifled with, but it seems our friend Dallet has forgotten his place."

Folken narrowed his eyes, "You're saying Dallet attacked Dilandau? Unprovoked?"

"More than that," she was rocking back and forth on her heels by that point, obviously pleased with getting his attention so fully, "I overheard their conversation as well. Dallet dislikes Dilandau's methods, sir. Perhaps he's working alone and perhaps he's working with Gabriel. Maybe a payoff is in the bargain. Gabriel has considerable resources to do such a thing."

Folken settled back into his seat in the window with a rustle, resting his chin on his knuckles as he mulled over the new information.

Reika took a few quick steps through the shadows draping the edges of the room until she stood at his side, "My lord Folken, if I may offer a suggestion of my own… Perhaps a little internal espionage is in order? Just to keep an eye on Dallet and Gabriel for a few days. I can arrange to have one of my troops - Alexia, perhaps - to keep an ear and an eye open, if you wish it."

"I don't wish anything," Folken responded, not lifting his gaze, "But you may have a point for once. Dallet's actions are highly unusual even if Gabriel's are not. If you're going to post a sentry, have her keep her eyes on Dallet. If Gabriel is after anything, he'd have an accomplice, and Dallet is our most likely candidate. If you see it as an advantage, by all means keep a watch," he glanced up at her, "But go no further without first informing me. If anything happens without my knowing, you can explain it to Emperor Dornkirk."

Reika was silent for a moment, then nodded, settling back on her heels with a finger to her chin, "Understood, my lord. Perhaps I should notify Dilandau?"

"Only if necessary. I'd prefer to keep things quiet until we can be sure that this is more than just idle talk."

She grinned once more, bowing low a final time, before backing to the door, "Then I leave you in peace, Lord Folken. I will see you tomorrow with my report."

"Wonderful," Folken turned his back, going back to gazing out at the world below, "Dismissed."

"Poor Shesta," Gatty whispered, leaning over the railing to peer down to the room below. No one else seemed to be paying much attention; they were all more intent upon individual conversations and their own performance later on. Gatty didn't blame them. There was no point in paying attention to this battle. Gabriel was going to mop the floor with Shesta without a doubt. It didn't matter who Gabriel's opponent was, it always was the same. That was the problem with power. Over time it ceased to be impressive.

A quiet sigh escaped Gatty as he slumped forward on the cold metal railing. The room below was distant but unusually brightly lit for something onboard the Vionne. The deep indigoes and blacks were softened to shades of gray and sky blue. Even so, Gatty could only just see Gabriel's face. Not that he had to see it to know the expression. He'd seen it enough times in his own battles with that monster.

A scowl set itself deeply on his features. Everything about that boy put Gatty on edge, and the current situation made no exceptions to that rule. He had a very strong urge right then to get up and head down there himself. Not to outright interfere, but just in case. Dragonslayers were supposed to help each other, weren't they? What if Gabriel lost it again? Shesta had admitted outright weeks earlier that if there was one thing he wasn't, it was a good swordfighter. He'd hate to see the little guy hurt before he could even make a real name for himself.

"Still worried, huh?" Gatty lifted his head and found that Guimel had slipped from the crowd to join him, offering a sympathetic smile, "Don't worry. Dilandau won't let anything happen to him. The worst he'll get is a few bruises."

Gatty shrugged and turned his eyes away, "I wonder about that, Guimel. Something's been wrong with Gabriel lately. I don't know how to explain it, but there's just something… not right. He's not the only one either. Since Shesta arrived, there've been at least half a dozen people I can name who've been on edge. I'm worried."

"What are you thinking?"

"You know what I'm thinking. You of all people know what I'm thinking. It's her again. She's up to old tricks. I can always tell. And you know what? I think she snagged two of us this time."

"Gabriel and who else?"

Gatty shook his head, "I'm not certain enough to say that much with conviction. Maybe Shesta. Maybe not. Maybe its Dallet. I've spotted those two together a few times. It makes me wonder…"

Behind them, someone snorted.

Gatty blinked, looking back over his shoulder. He was astonished and a little embarrassed to find Dallet himself leaning against the wall despite the fact that he was certain that they'd been alone a moment ago. Dallet gave no sign that he'd heard though; his gaze was lost somewhere towards the west wall. He seemed a million miles away in every sense but the physical. Gatty frowned, unconvinced, before turning away again.

Guimel watched a second longer, but finally turned his back as well. "That was odd."

"Very."

"So what do you think Dilandau's up to here, pitting the best of us against the supposed worst? Not very entertaining, and it certainly isn't going to do Shesta any good."

"True enough. I don't know. Maybe he's testing Shesta. Seeing if he's worth it. After all, Shes hasn't shown that much growth since he got here. His piloting skills have improved but that's about it, and even there, not much. Maybe he figures that if he puts Shesta in a real panic situation he'll show some initiative."

"I don't think initiative is going to come of this. He seems kind of distracted to me…" Guimel hunched forward, gazing down at the two fighters, "And nervous. Poor guy."

"Yeah."

"You should quit babying him. You're only going to weaken him later."

Gatty leaped a good inch off the ground and whirled around. Dallet was still there, leaning against the wall with both arms and both ankles crossed, his head down, eyes closed. "Shesta's a Dragonslayer," he said without pause, "I'm sure he can take care of himself if you'd give him half a chance. No one ever learned by running from the problem."

Gatty raised his eyebrows, straightening and taking half a step back, "Give him half a chance? We've been giving him plenty of chances, not just halves of them. You seem to be the one holding him back. What about the guymelef battle a few days ago? You barely let him breathe out there. You could have eased up just a bit, you know."

Dallet lifted his head, swiping messy brown hair away from his eyes as he did but not losing the ease of his words, "I'm not going to pander to his weaknesses, Gatty. In battle, you don't give the enemy a break. That's pointless. He's your friend, you can be soft if you want."

"It wasn't a battle, it was training."

"Training isn't playing. It's practice for the real thing. If it's not taken seriously, it's completely worthless. A waste of time." Dallet scowled, turning away and heading towards where the others were congregated, "Maybe you've been hanging around with Shesta a little too long. You're starting to sound like him. Lost."

"Look who's talking," Gatty snapped back, pushing away from the railing and following on Dallet's heels, "Ever since he showed up, you've been mister high and mighty. Questioning the system, talking back to Dilandau… I'm beginning to wonder whose side you're on. That bandage on your face is testimony enough."

Dallet paused in mid-step, chuckling. He turned on his heel, dropping one hand to his hip, "You think I'm a traitor."

Gatty took a step away, unnerved by the calmness of Dallet's response. A bit of his growing anger dissipated and he crossed his arms, looking up at his comrade uncertainly, "Let's just say I don't trust you as much as I used to."

Dallet was silent a moment, then nodded thoughtfully. "I don't blame you, Gatty, but your accusations are unfounded. I never attacked him. I defended one of our own, much the same as you're doing. It's not my fault that it wasn't taken in the way I intended. Perception is up to the viewer."

"That's well put," Gatty scoffed, "He tried to kill me, Dallet. How do you manage to justify that? Training may be preparation for battle, but if it results in casualties, it defeats its own purpose."

Dallet smiled, if only just barely, "Sometimes forgiveness is a hard thing to give, isn't it? He'd never have hurt you. Even if Dilandau hadn't said anything, Gabriel would have come to his senses."

Gatty took a few breaths, not sure what to say to that. He backed up after a moment, leaning his elbows against the railing, his expression skeptical, "How can you be so sure? How do you know what's going on in Gabriel's head? How do you know that he's not just going to turn on you or any of us? I couldn't trust him, that's for certain…" Gatty's frown deepened into a look of pure concern. He shook his head, "Dallet, I don't get it. What are you doing? You put your credibility on the line for someone who'd never return it and who's probably the most likely to tear this group apart. Why would you think that's worth it?"

"Because my goals are set differently from yours, Gatty. To my ends, Gabriel is something important. Trust me, it's worth it." He raised a hand, silencing Gatty before he could do more than open his mouth, "I should go. Dilandau's coming and it wouldn't be good for him to hear any of this. He appreciates me a bit less as of late. I'd hate to cause any more trouble before it's time."

He said nothing more, only turned his back and walked away, slipping silently into the group of Dragonslayers in the far corner and out of sight, leaving Gatty pondering his last words with a furrowed brow and an uncertain mind.

Shesta felt all conscious thought slip as, within an instant, his opponent went from still and silent to a flurry of motion and sound. Strategic footsteps echoed, the ringing whistle of steel rending the air, and the ear splitting clatter of blade to blade. Gabriel moved like lightning, a blaze of arms, legs, and flashing silver before settling into his attack. Shesta's knees nearly buckled as their swords dug into each other. He growled, strained, and finally forced Gabriel off, throwing him back several steps and circling away himself, breathing hard, his mind reeling with tentative calculations as he prepared for the next strike.

Across from him, Gabriel flashed a wicked grin and lowered his head like a bull about to charge. Shesta side-stepped that one, but soon saw his error. In a single perfectly integrated move, Gabriel's sword flicked from his right hand to his left and arced up and out. It caught the blade of Shesta's own katana, snapping his wrist back painfully but falling just short of knocking it loose. Shesta leaped back immediately, gritting his teeth. Too defensive! I need an opening!

"You're running!" Gabriel snarled, straightening.

Shesta said nothing. He relaxed, took a deep breath, and met Gabriel's gaze. He was ready, but attack was impossible now. Gabriel could read him like a book. His only hope was to stop thinking altogether. Abandon strategy and just fight. With that in mind, he lunged blade first. Gabriel blocked easily and batted him aside like he wasn't even there, nearly knocking the sword from his grasp once again. Pure luck held it in place.

But it was still in place. He lashed again, counting on the closed space to shorten Gabriel's reaction time, and this time he struck. The air rang as the two swords clashed and circled, grating each other until they froze, quivering, between the two opponents. They were face to face now, eyes locked. The anger burning there said more than words ever could. Neither wanted to lose. Gabriel had a reputation to uphold and Shesta had his worth to prove. Either way it was looked at, the stakes were high.

"Getting braver, Shesta." Gabriel laughed, twitching his wrists in a downplayed struggle to free his weapon, "Not good enough. Warriors of spirit die just as quickly as amateurs."

"Don't underestimate me." Shesta's voice was a low growl as he pushed back, matching Gabriel's moves.

At that, Gabriel laughed, "Don't worry. I won't," he thrust forward violently, shoving Shesta to one side. The smaller boy stumbled, cried out, and took a quick blow to the ribs that knocked him back a few paces, doubled over. He gasped sharply, clutching the injury with one hand for a moment, then recovered and straightened, bringing his own blade up to block the subsequent attack.

Gabriel broke off and skipped back and away, "High pain tolerance I see."

Shesta coughed and grinned, "Yeah. How's yours?" he snapped his blade out abruptly and managed to catch Gabriel's leg with the tip, tearing into the fabric and drawing a shallow scarlet line beneath. Gabriel yelped and leaped back, his bravado suddenly dissipated. He seemed to lose his concentration for a bare moment, staggering back a step and glaring angrily down at the tattered fabric. Shesta started to relax just a bit, uncertain, but was thrown right back on the defensive as Gabriel leaped abruptly back to action.

The next several minutes were a flurry of action. Gabriel struck again and again in rapid succession, shouting curses as metal against metal rang. Slowly but surely, Shesta found himself being driven towards the wall and knew that there he'd be trapped. Facing Gabriel's insanity while he could still defend was frightening enough. Somehow he had to slow him down. In one blind moment, he stabbed forward as before, striking directly on Gabriel's right arm. Fabric tore and blood spilled, but this time Gabriel didn't so much as flinch. Shesta blocked the next enraged slash, scored another hit, and felt a wave of relief as Gabriel withdrew for an instant. It was time enough for Shesta to gain a quick upper hand, driving them back the other way.

Gabriel laughed aloud then, swinging his blade down in what would have been a near-killing blow to Shesta's left side, but missed by a hair as the younger boy slipped deftly out of range. "Give it up, Shesta!" he crowed, "Even if you win this, you're still dead. New blood to be spilled!"

"I'm stronger than you think!" Shesta retorted, aiming yet another blow - this time deflected at the last second.

"I'll see you fall before me, either way! You're still weak!"

"Liar."

"Ha." Gabriel's foot connected with Shesta's ankle before he could even consider moving to avoid it. With a yelp and a flailing of arms, he crashed to the floor. His opponent wasted no time in making an earnest attempt to decapitate him, but Shesta slipped out of the way just in time, leaving a scattering of neatly cut gold hairs in his wake. He threw himself to his feet, stumbling and dodging at the same time as Gabriel came at him again. As before, their blades met, sparked, ground together, and froze between them, trembling.

"I apologize, Shesta," Gabriel mocked, "I lost myself for a moment. I'm so used to being able to simply finish off my opponents without complications. You simply.. got on my nerves."

"The feeling is mutual. Now shut up and fight. I want to win this already," Shesta tried to pull away, but Gabriel pinned his blade again, locking them in mid-air.

"You'd better hold off on that," he laughed, "I requested you as my opponent for a reason."

Shesta raised one thin blonde eyebrow, hesitantly loosening his grip on his sword, then retightening it, "What for?"

A feral grin, "Information. You'll like it."

"I'm listening."

Guimel cocked his head to one side, "What's going on down there? It's the middle of a practice. Why are they talking?" he glanced up at Gatty, "Think we should go have a listen? I don't trust this."

"No need."

"What?"

Gatty pointed towards the door a few feet behind Gabriel's turned back. Barely visible in the shadows there was a dull orange tinged silhouette, "You're not the only one who doesn't trust it. This whole thing is a setup."

"What are you talking about?" Shesta's voice broke into a note of panic, and he started to pull away again. This time it was from a need to get away rather than a need to win, "How can you say that, Gabriel?"

"You don't believe me? After I went to all this trouble?"

"It's wrong!" Shesta protested, pulling his blade completely free and backing away to the wall, "The Dragonslayers are a unit! We would never turn on one of our own! How can you suggest such a thing?!"

Gabriel settled back on his heels, "I can suggest it because I know." He raised a hand to still the wail of disagreement he knew was coming and locked eyes with his young opponent, "Shesta, open your eyes. He's been playing you for a sap all along. If you shut it out now, you'll only be killing yourself."

"But… but…," Shesta was shaking, shrinking away, visibly trying to hide in plain sight, "But Dallet's… why would he… Why? I don't understand…"

Gabriel chuckled, and reached out a hand. Shesta didn't flinch, only watched like a scared animal as Gabriel dropped it onto his shoulder. At first, it seemed a friendly enough gesture, but a moment later and the younger Dragonslayer found himself whipped around and beaten, Gabriel's sword at his throat. He let out a gasp and dropped his own weapon in surprise. Gabriel's whispering voice was loud in his ear, "Because he can, Shesta."

Shesta fell to the ground, propped up on both arms and staring frozen at his blood streaked sword. Gabriel's shadow slipped out of his view, trailing his words behind it, "Watch your back next time, Shesta. Not everyone's as nice as I am."

A hush fell over the room for a moment - barely noticeable - as the two walked back into the room. Gabriel limped slightly and Shesta had one hand pressed gently to his side. He felt more than saw the glare from Dilandau's direction and decided not to meet it. Instead, he simply slipped back into a corner and propped himself against the wall, turning his gaze to his feet and keeping them there.

All eyes focused on Gabriel and a general whispering filled the air. It was a rare occasion for the boy to return from a routine practice bleeding. His green eyes flickered across the faces as he walked through the group, reflecting first anger then impassiveness until they met with an expressionless frown carefully set aside from the others. He grinned with a confidence then that seemed almost forced, "A good fight, if I do say so, Lord Dilandau. Perhaps next time I can hone my skills against the best of the best?"

The other Dragonslayers hushed once again.

Dilandau's eyes narrowed for a second, uncertain if the tone he heard was genuine or sarcasm. Gabriel merely grinned once more and shoved himself into the group, not waiting for the response he knew wouldn't come. The whisper of conversation resumed.

Gatty and Guimel cast unnoticed suspicious glances between themselves.

Dallet, posted intentionally nearest the door, watched with a shadowed frown of concern, then slipped silently as a ghost out the door.

Alexia strode respectfully behind her superiors, keeping her mouth shut and listening half-heartedly to their conversations. Normally, her ears would have been completely open for observation - something she was having to do more and more in the recent months - but at the current moment she was too busy silently rehearsing her expected report to give it full consideration. Commander Reika had simply pulled her from her personal practice time that morning and turned her into a makeshift spy on two of her own allies. The things she'd heard would have shocked any of the Dragonslayers, no matter how outwardly uncaring they were, but to her it was much worse. It was personal. Hasty judgment would simply not do in this situation.

She cast a discreet glare at the two soldiers ahead of her. It didn't help that they themselves were discussing that very thing.

It was the entertaining, though…

"A shame it had to be a third party revelation, is it not?" Reika was saying in her usual prissy voice, "I would have greatly preferred that the snake trip over his own tongue rather than being ratted out by some…" she curled a lip in distaste, "…guinea pig. I don't even know if he's to be trusted."

"I wish you would just shut up." Dilandau's voice was pure growl, but lacking in the sincerity of his usual temper. He wasn't as wholeheartedly furious as he could have been after discovering that at least one of his troops was a traitor, but he still sounded angry. She smiled privately. The commanders' conversations were always much more fun to watch when one of them was irritated.

Reika turned her head, raising an eyebrow, "There are many such things I've wished to say to you, Dilandau, but I have the strength of mind to keep them to myself. How is it that your soldiers are so well disciplined when you yourself are such a child?"

He clenched a fist and Alexia swore she heard a hint of a smile in his voice, "I could give you a first hand demonstration if you want. It would be a pleasure."

She sniffed and took a sharp step closer to the wall, "You keep yourself respectfully away from me, Dilandau, as is your place. You've been bested. You'd do well to learn what that means." She snarled and visibly quickened her pace, forcing Dilandau into a jog for a few steps. Alexia allowed herself to lag just a bit.

"You're just lucky we're almost there or I'd prove you wrong right here," He called, "Last time was nothing more than good fortune on your part."

She stopped abruptly and Dilandau nearly crashed right into her. Before he could move, she'd whipped around and was nose to nose with him. No contact, but enough intimidation across the millimeters of empty air that Alexia found herself slowing further - keeping her distance. Reika's eyes had that quality to them again, the look that was so chilling that not a human being alive dared deceive her while she held it upon them. If it was anything in particular that made her a true commander, that was it.

Dilandau's expression was as absolutely unamused as it could get, however. He always was exceptionally good at defying authority. It gave him a sort of immunity. After a moment he smiled, "You're wasting Lord Folken's valuable time, Reika," his head twitched to the side enough that one deep red eye met Alexia's for a moment, "and your young charge is probably under a poor influence here." He smirked and stepped around his unofficial adversary, continuing on his path, "Besides, you've been complimenting me all along. What we were supposed to be reporting about was a lack of discipline in my troop while you've been saying just the opposite. You're losing your touch."

She stiffened, mouth opening once and closing just as hastily. After a few muffled half-words she finally took a breath and growled. "You're such a bastard!" Reika spat the word, stomping after the albino, refusing to speak civilly to the back of his head.

Alexia smiled, but kept the chuckle inward.

Folken was merely a shadow topped with a thin thoughtful face when they entered. The pale blue light cast a strange ethereal quality on his features, defining them in an almost frightening way. The light was intended to fall mostly upon the Zaibach crest on the wall at his back rather than the chair. It was perfect poetry, Alexia decided. He pulled the strings, but gave the credit to the Empire. Avoiding the spotlight as always.

Dilandau and Reika dropped respectfully to a kneeling bow in tandem, leaving Alexia to falter a moment behind them. She cursed herself silently, but kept her expression straight.

Reika straightened, followed a moment behind by Dilandau and Alexia, and settled back on her heels, "Lord Folken, I bring you the report as requested and I do believe you'll find it rather intriguing."

Folken lifted his head, glancing from one face to the other before turning back to Reika with a raised eyebrow, "I thought we agreed that Dilandau would be informed of this only if necessary."

She nodded, casting a too obviously faked smile back to Folken while her eyes shot daggers at the albino commander, "He… insisted, Lord Folken. I apologize."

"You should," Dilandau snarled, "Spying on my troops without consent is not something I look on too highly, Reika." He snorted, "The least you could have been was a little more discreet. I saw this girl of yours before she was even in position."

Reika muttered something inaudible under her breath, provoking a sharp cackle from Dilandau. Alexia noticed with some interest that Reika was tapping her fingers against the hilt of her sword, "As I was saying, Lord Folken, my second, Alexia, is prepared to give you her report. She…"

"You may speak, then, Alexia."

Reika blinked a few times, unused to being cut off so rudely, but stepped aside just the same as Alexia came forward, bowed, and spoke. "Thank you, Lord Folken. I'm pleased to serve." She let the silence linger for a moment, then took a breath and began, "My mission was to observe and report, sir, and I'm not without something to say. Gabriel was giving Shesta an advantage throughout the entire battle. I noted at least seven instances where he could have finished the fight with his usual ease, but he refrained."

Beside her, Dilandau straightened, suddenly interested.

"The hesitation was intentional, rather than a simple lack of foresight as I'd thought at first. It allowed the fight to continue long enough to give Gabriel a chance to formulate his words as well as to tire Shesta out so that he'd be listening to anything that would give him a break. Gabriel succeeded and gained Shesta's attention long enough to give him the message that Dallet is plotting against Lord Dilandau's life. Whether that's truth or falsehood, I don't know." She bowed respectfully and stepped back to her place.

Folken settled forward in his chair, lifting his left hand from beneath the cloak and resting his chin against it, "No details on when or why?"

"None, sir."

Dilandau crossed his arms, looking at Alexia but speaking to no one in particular, "But why would Gabriel tell Shesta of all people? That boy is of no use to anyone." He turned his gaze to Folken, "I don't even know why you placed him in my troop, Folken. We had the full complement to begin with. He's useless."

The claw of Folken's right hand lifted from beneath the cloak for a moment as he shook his head, "Shesta was placed under your command by Emperor Dornkirk, Dilandau. This is up to him, not me."

"I still don't see…"

"It's not proper to question your superiors, Dilandau," Reika snapped, "Perhaps you should…"

"Silence, both of you."

Both fell silent. Reika bowed apologetically before returning to attention; Dilandau merely looked smug.

"So," he spoke after a moment, "Let's take stock then. Dallet is certainly under suspicion, if our young lady here is correct. As well, both Gabriel and Shesta should have an eye kept on them. It wouldn't be the first time that Gabriel's tried something underhanded." The look he cast in Alexia's direction was not a harsh one, but the point was well taken. She lowered her head just visibly, feeling a small twinge of shame without letting it show. Dilandau just vaguely bristled.

"More espionage, my lord?" Reika piped up, breaking the settling tension.

Dilandau turned his attention her way, "More spying on my troops? I think I can keep an eye on…"

"You didn't last time, sir." Alexia said quietly, wincing at her own words, "Sorry, sir." She took a quick step back and braced herself. The words had just slipped out by themselves. Bringing up past instances was never a good idea, especially around Dilandau.

She was incredibly lucky this time.

Dilandau cast a quick glance to Folken and then nodded, "Apology accepted, soldier. Maybe you have a point this time."

Reika raised an eyebrow.

"Folken, if I could request that Gatty be our candidate for this mission? It would be much more convenient and effective if it were one of my own and, as well, he's neither a part of this unpleasantness nor untrustworthy in any way. On the contrary, I'd trust him with my life."

"And so you are," Reika spoke up, "A good choice. Lord Folken, I agree."

Folken nodded, "All right, then. But I ask that you refrain from acting unless the situation is particularly dire. Gatty is to watch and report. That is all."

Dilandau bowed - rather awkwardly this time, Alexia noticed, "I'll notify him as soon as I see him, Folken,"

"See to it then."

Dilandau gave a sharp nod and turned for the door, Reika and Alexia quick on his heels. There was a brief sputter of conversation as they walked through the door and Reika cuffed Dilandau across the back of the head, then the portal slid shut behind them and darkness fell.

Folken folded himself into his personal shadow and closed his eyes, feeling, for once, at least a little better.

It's a funny thing how one's life can be turned upside-down in the middle of the afternoon but the fact won't even register until the day has officially ended. It's equally unbelievable how overwhelming the night makes such things appear. They're turned from little monsters to hulking demons as soon as the bustle of the day slips away and the shadows fall. Demons that steal sleep and leave nothing but unease in their wake.

For six hours Alexia had let those demons pester her. Around her, the rest of the Vionne's inhabitants were getting their much needed rest in anticipation of another day, but she was lying awake. It was with serious reluctance that she'd finally decided that the ceiling wasn't going to be any more soothing in twenty minutes and had gotten up. Her fears had overtaken her before and, while it never really helped her sleep, a midnight walkabout usually was sufficient to calm her nerves to some degree.

So, dressed in her usual sleep clothes, she had set off down the hallways, her only destination being her quarters again in half an hour, no less. The corridors were peaceful enough in the dead of the night, full of distant hums and silent breezes from the air ducts, lulling sounds of the deep internal workings of the monstrous floating fortress itself, like the pulse of a living creature. The metallic scent of the air was just as calming in the darkness. Familiar and ever present. The peace of home away from home.

But even that found peace couldn't erase the one dark thought brooding in her mind. A blonde haired boy, new, naïve, and scared despite his outward bravado, continually invaded the sanctum of her mind. For reasons she couldn't fathom, he provoked an emotion in her that defied explanation. It was almost fear, almost pity, but neither was even close to an accurate description. It bothered her even more than the complications between Dallet and Gabriel that had suddenly arisen. It had bothered her for weeks. Only now she chose to recognize it. That emotion had guided her to try and warn him when they'd first met, it had guided her into defying her orders. She feared that he would eventually unravel her entire scheme.

So she'd purposely turned her feet away from the direction of his door, feeling that the only way she would keep her curiosity in check was pure avoidance. Fate wasn't on her side, unfortunately, and somehow her mind wandered. All roads led to all others, and before she knew it, she was standing outside his door, not knowing exactly how she'd gotten there.

For another twenty minutes she'd stood, questioning her sanity as much as her incredible bad luck. I shouldn't be here, she thought, biting her lip, I should be home with my family, with those I care about. I shouldn't be a soldier. I shouldn't be risking my existence. I shouldn't be trying to reconcile with someone who's going to die anyway. What does it matter? He's a pawn. He's a simple pawn. I don't even know him. He made a mistake coming here. Why do I feel the need to make this difficult? Why can't I just leave it alone?

Despite it all, she'd found her hand hovering over the door panel, and, with a sudden burst of both bravery and cowardice, she'd dropped her palm to the glowing rectangle and stepped into the dark confines of Shesta's quarters.

Silence reigned. She held her breath. Time seemed frozen for in a perfect crystal clear illusion, frighteningly still. The pristine glow of the Mystic Moon was the only sign that time still existed, its light casting a slowly shifting ray of brilliance across the carpeted floor. She cast her gaze slowly across the room as her eyes adjusted. The room was somewhat bare; a few books lay scattered on the nightstand, a uniform was folded neatly on the chair by the window, and, a few feet away, Alexia's nightmare slept peacefully.

She cocked an ear and heard him breathing in perfect rhythm. After a moment, she allowed her own breath to invade the silence, keeping it slow and quiet, in time with his. As long as he slept, she wouldn't have to say a word. Fear rose in her for a moment at that thought. If he did wake, she'd be ruining everything. He knew just enough as it was, but if anything else slipped, his death was assured. Gabriel's actions had already put him in danger.

The poor boy. He'd been safe and happy until that very day, and now he didn't even know what he was heading for. But she did.

Her breathing faltered for a moment.

Why? She padded across the carpet in her bare feet, crossing the shadows until she stood directly over him, Why did you have to come, Shesta? Why did you have to throw the whole scheme into chaos? It was fine until you appeared. I didn't have to make a move. Now I have no choice. And you don't know, do you? You don't know anything. Perfectly clueless. Perfectly innocent.

She leaned a hand cautiously out into the darkness. His eyes were closed, the covers tucked up to his chin. One arm hung out limply over the opposite edge. She let her fingertips brush the feathery softness of his hair, then drew back. Poor boy.

A sigh escaped her. Shesta shifted, wincing in his sleep.

She retreated immediately into the shadows, planting herself against the wall and holding her breath once more. He let out a quiet hum, but just as quickly dropped back into his rhythmic breathing. Alexia remained still for a long time, countless minutes, but finally had to force herself to breathe again or risk passing out. She stepped quietly back into the light, then slipped like a wraith back to the door.

"Shesta," she whispered, "I'm sorry."

A final glance was cast back, and then she was gone back to the shadows she had come from.