Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Sacrosanct ❯ Hail the Mighty Dragon ( Chapter 2 )

Author's Notes:

First and foremost, thank you to everyone who's read the first chapter! Even more thanks to those who reviewed, and those who bothered to include me/this story in their alerts. Thank you, thank you, thank is generally a substandard avenue to post your stories in. It's understandable though, since there are just too many stories and authors to host. I'm thinking of getting a blog at a free service so I can post more than simple chapters with notes, like full entries on my progress, thoughts and stuff as I write this story. And so that readers can actually post their suggestions and critique as I write the chapters. Hmm. What do you think?

But anyway, enough of the technical ranting. Here are a few things regarding the story/this chapter:

On Chapter Titles - I haven't been able to think of appropriate titles to the story's chapters, which is why I've left the space after the colon (:) blank. As always, ideas - plus feedback and criticism are most welcome

On Merle - Merle, if you've noticed, wasn't mentioned at all in the first chapter. I've actually thought about removing her from the story completely, and I wrote the first chapter without actually thinking about where she would fit into the story. See, I've never been much of a fan of the cat girl, and I've always thought that her role wasn't established enough to make her of real value to the plot and the characters. But then I decided against it; it would probably be better to include her anyway and tweak her character as I see fit. And so here she is, making her first appearance in this chapter.

I owe this chapter to Hector of Troy and his wife Andromache, who served - and will continue to serve - as my influences for various parts of the story. Long live the Trojans!

By the way, standard disclaimers still, and will always, apply to this kind of fiction. And please please, don't forget to leave a review/email me to tell me what you think.

A merry merry Christmas to you all!

Sacrosanct

By Venusskies

A Retelling of the Escaflowne series

Chapter Two: Hail the Mighty Dragon

A brilliant flash of pure, white light followed Van's words, and I turned away from him to shield my eyes. I felt my knees grow weak with the mere anticipation of what would - and might - happen, and I dropped to the floor with a soft thud. I bit my lip when my skin grazed an aberrant stone tile, its sharp, protruding edge drawing a slight stream of blood down the underside of my left leg. For some reason I could not fathom, the sight and smell of my own blood began to heighten my senses such that when I turned to Van as the light began to dissipate, every sensation - light, sound, touch, scent - washed over me like the tides of a stormy sea. Every thought I had hurtled into my consciousness with a resounding clash; every impulse that threatened to ebb from my person rendered me like a caged entity.

It was then that my heart began to thump vigorously to an eerie, unconscious awareness I knew I had of the nature of the events that were to follow.

He stood before me tall and regal, bathed in the remnants of the brilliant flash of white light from moments before. He was magnificent despite the disheveled hair and pale expression he wore. His was a countenance that spoke of nothing but majesty.

This was Van Fanel.

It was while marveling at the change that had overcome him that I unconsciously gripped the pendant that hung around my neck. I didn't notice the stone's faint, pink glow against my chest, and it was quick, almost chaste, when it hit me - the vision of a menacing, crimson monster of steel, its cape billowing against the roaring flames, claws threatening, streaming towards me.

Illusion or not, the sight of the guymelef had sent me reeling. But I had no time to recover when a huge slab of stone broke off from the ceiling and began to float downwards, to the expanse that lay between Van and the wall. Midway it shattered into a million, infinitesimal pieces to reveal another guymelef, this time pallid and docile, yet whose underlying power was unmistakable.

Recognition dawned upon me even before Van turned to me to speak.

“Escaflowne, the god of the skies, and protector of Fanelia” he said, as if to introduce us.

Perhaps he had forgotten that I was already aware. Even before I had him to regale - or rather, boast to - me with stories about the giant, white guymelef of the skies, I already had my father to show me all about it. During our visits to the valley kingdom so many years ago, he'd take me and my brother to see the festivals that honored the mighty Escaflowne…

To Fanelia, Escaflowne was their pillar, their tower of strength and power. To these people of a fertile valley, the abundance of their crops, the health of their herds and the vigor of their populace were the most concrete manifestations of that power Escaflowne extended to them. And every fourth year, they never failed to honor the god of the skies with one of the most lavish celebrations in all of Gaea.

Their sunset ceremonies would always start with the lighting of great pillars of fire and the sacrificing of the finest younglings and the most sumptuous vegetation farmers brought from their fields. Their fresh blood would then be littered all around the plaza, which, from above, was shaped so much like a drag energist, and whose grounds were adorned with paintings of kings, princes and heroes long-gone, their deeds all but forgotten. Afterwards, the gathering - humans, wolf-men and cat-people alike - would pray, their priests leading them.

I could still remember so vividly how their words would echo into the darkening sky, the almost circular contours of the plaza adding even more to the already ethereal atmosphere of the ceremonies. The voices would gradually escalate in volume and intensity, ending with a resounding, cataclysmic shout of the very last verse. Immediately after, the music would start, signaling the women to emerge from the gathering and dance around the fires. To the rich, tribal tunes by earthen instruments would they skip and prance and swing and glide, the deep colors of their garments flowing with them as freely as they moved. It was always a different dance each ceremony, and each time the women never failed to amaze. Everyone would watch, entranced with the spectacle of their nimble motions, until the final notes of the drumbeat and the start of the great feast.

The last festival I had witnessed occurred two years ago. Van had completed his dragon-slaying ritual just in time for it, and the entire kingdom was in rapture for three full nights.

However, more than the tales that I had heard about Fanelia's legendary guardian, more than the celebrations I had witnessed in honor of its mystical properties, was a certain familiarity with the guymelef that I could not, and probably wouldn't be able to, place just yet. I had always felt it, from the very first ceremony I attended until the last. Yet now, it was even more so. It was both exhilarating and at the same time unnerving.

Gingerly I tried to regain my former position, not noticing that the blood from my wound still flowed freely down my limb. This, however, didn't escape Van's hawkish eye.

“You're hurt,” he remarked, walking towards me to check my wound.

“It's nothing,” I immediately replied. “The light, it was blinding, and I fell against a sharp tile. I was clumsy.”

He opened his mouth to say something but stopped when we heard another rumble, this time closer to us than the preceding ones. There followed steady, heavy footsteps, and then the sudden shattering of the stone wall behind us. Van held me as we ducked to avoid being hit by pieces of rock flying across the shrine. Still, he wasn't left unscathed. A gash marred his right shoulder - none too deep yet still bloody. I was shaken and breathing heavily when I tore at my skirt and pressed the cloth over the wound in an effort to help it congeal.

The moment the wall was destroyed, the sounds of battle from outside immediately became more audible. To the background of clashing weapons, screams of fear and howls of pain beat the solid footsteps of the advancing guymelef - menacing, threatening, demonic, crimson.

I froze in recognition just as the guymelef stopped in front of us. Van must have felt my change in behavior since he held me closer, protectively.

“Tch. They're already here,” said the voice from the cockpit. “Well, at least that saves me the trouble of having to bring it out myself.”

“Who are you?” Van called out to the guymelef in a low, booming voice. “And why are you here? Why are you attacking my country?”

“Oh King Van. I apologize for my lack of civility,” was the mocking reply. Vapor hissed from the head of the guymelef, and the metal covering the cockpit parted to reveal the machine's operator. The pilot was a man with a slight frame, wearing a black uniform fit for a high-ranking soldier. It was a garment that stood in stark contrast to the silver that was his hair, a garment that intensified the malice his eyes were already exhibiting.

His eyes…

I had never seen such eyes like his before!

“I am Dilandau, captain of the Dragonslayers,” he continued, mustering a mocking bow. When he stood up straight again, he placed his right hand calmly over the hilt of his sword. “We are a special unit of the Zaibach army with a most important mission.”

“And what may that be?” Van answered, his brows knotting in sheer anger. His breath quickened, and his fists clenched. I squeezed his hand to try to calm him down.

“To capture the dragon,” he smirked, as if what he had just said was the most obvious answer in the world. With his left hand, he drew the dagger that rested beside his sword and began twiddling it dangerously.

“The dragon?” I repeated, shooting an anxious glance at Van.

“Escaflowne?” he asked. But from the tone of his voice, it was more of a question out of confirmation than a question out of curiosity. Escaflowne was a dragon? The dragon? But it was just a suit of armor! Just how much Van knew about the guymelef, I did not know. Only now was I beginning to feel that there was so much more to the legendary guardian than what ancient folklore actually imparted to me.

But then something bothered me, aside from the man who was taunting my husband like a school bully. Something was tugging at my unconscious at that very instant. I immediately felt restless.

I stole a glance at the guymelef behind us. Escaflowne, they called it. Escaflowne, they beseeched it. Leaning on one of its knees, this mystical armor whose power we had yet to harness for ourselves...

Why did they want it? What did the armor have that they needed?

“Good, your majesty. I see you really are the king of Fanelia,” Dilandau smiled. There was a feral element to his smile, and it unnerved me to no end. I couldn't imagine being caught by this man and turned into his slave. From the way he moved, he seemed disturbed. From the way he looked, he seemed demonic. My stomach lurched involuntarily when he continued by saying, “But the question begs: what do we want it for? What do we want to achieve?”

“Stop playing games with me,” Van retorted, his voice calm and steely.

“Ooh, the young king has been riled!” Dilandau jeered, his smile broadening and his eyes widening with malevolent delight. “Yes, young king, I have been playing games with you, but I have not yet sufficiently enjoyed myself. It feels so good to be looking down on a royal like you, to have not just you but also your wife at my mercy, and I intend to exact every ounce of pleasure I can get from this experience!”

The mention of me must have been the trigger, for Van suddenly drew his sword and pointed it threateningly at the man who still remained perched on his guymelef.

“Say no more,” he roared. “Come down and fight like a man!”

“Van, don't!” I cried, clutching at him almost desperately. “You're wounded!”

“It's nothing,” he shot back, his resolve unwavering.

But Dilandau let out a laugh, a high-pitched psychotic laugh. I shuddered slightly at the sounds of his regaling, and I could feel Van shaking with anger at the satisfaction he was drawing from our mockery. He continued for a few more heartbeats until he suddenly stopped and threw the dagger he was holding in our direction. Van barely had time to push me from the projectile's path when the weapon whizzed past my ear.

He laughed again, that same high-pitched psychotic laugh, when we heard a loud shout and then appeared Master Balgus leaping in the air, perfectly poised to strike him.

Dilandau was taken off guard, and he was only able to draw his sword to block the Fanelian general's attack. Master Balgus was dirtied, and streaks of blood were all over his face and armor. His scarred face was contorted in disdain for the man who led the attack against his country and who, just moments before, was deriving entertainment from two of the people he had pledged to serve until his death.

“Van, get inside Escaflowne! Quick!” Master Balgus roared to his pupil while engaging Dilandau with strong, deliberate attacks. Van wasted no time and immediately ran to the guymelef. He thrust his energist into the waiting, pink gemstone embedded on the armor's heart, and the cockpit opened. He took his place inside and the guymelef reared to life, standing tall and proud in all its glory.

I ran to one side of the shrine to steer clear of the battle and turned back to them just in time to see Dilandau push Master Balgus off his guymelef and get back inside the cockpit. His armor was once more up and moving, and with one swing of its cape over its body it disappeared.

We were all stupefied, except for Master Balgus. It was their invisibility cloaks, he shouted to Van. Dilandau was still in this room, and they had better take extra care. The two men kept turning around to try to spot where Dilandau would be coming from, but they could not see. All we could hear were Dilandau's cackles coming from all directions, offering everything but comfort to the situation we were thrust into.

Suddenly a sword came out of nowhere to strike at Van. Thankfully he was able to deflect it, but just as he did so, the sword disappeared as swiftly as it had appeared. The shrine was plunged into another tense silence. I watched them from my spot behind one of the stone pillars, my heart pounding with the utmost fear for the two men.

In the shadow cast by the stone pillar, I noticed the increased brilliance of the pendant that hung around my neck. Moments ago it was simply a faint glow, but now it was shining a little more brightly than before. I held it to my heart with both my hands and closed both my eyes in an act of desperation. What greeted me, however, was not pure darkness. My pendant, hung from the same chain, was suspended in mid-air and swinging to a perfect rhythm.

I stared at it entranced, watching it swing back and forth, back and forth. I remembered my grandmother's words back when I was still a child telling me that the pendant, if suspended, would always make one swing in any direction within one second, no matter what you did to it. And there it was in front of me, swinging as my mother had described it would. No longer did I feel the tension from the battle at the shrine; no longer did I hear the bated breaths of the two men who were fighting a very lopsided battle. I was alone, watching my pendant, back and forth, back and forth. It was still shining. It was still glowing.

With a sudden jolt the rhythm broke; the pendant swung violently to my right and I saw Dilandau's red guymelef lunging from Escaflowne's behind. I screamed, alerting Van to the guymelef's ambush.

Van was able to block the attack, and Master Balgus took the opportunity to graze the more vulnerable points of Dilandau's guymelef. The man retreated once more to his invisibility while Van and Master Balgus were once more reduced to looking around aimlessly for any sign of his location.

My breaths had quickened, and I felt my head ache ever so slightly. There it was again, my insides bewailed. There it was again, back to haunt me, back to plague me… But if it was to help Van and Master Balgus get through this battle, then I could and would gladly endure the pain.

Yet again the sight of my pendant, swinging to perfect rhythm. Yet again the sudden jolt and the violent swing, and this time I cried, “To your left!” enabling Van to perfectly block the attack and follow up with one of his own.

Dilandau was enraged. Twice had he attacked, and twice had he been blocked. His invisibility wore off and I saw him turn to look at me, his eyes ablaze with anger and a certain madness. Van wasted no time in striking him, the first unease of breaking into his armor finally wearing off. Sparks flew from the clashes that ensued, sword against sword. The battle raged on for a few more moments until Master Balgus thought it best to creep up from behind Dilandau and catch him unawares.

However Dilandau saw him, and while meeting Van's sword with his own, he reached out the free left arm and hurtled the stream of flowing, metal claws at the unsuspecting Fanelian general. Van and I were stricken with horror when we saw the metal pierce through Master Balgus, blood pouring from his parted lips and eyes wide with surprise. I gasped and fell to my knees. I placed my hands over my mouth to stifle my screams.

“Master!” Van cried hoarsely, anguish and hatred most evident. His swings became wilder, his advances more anxious such that Dilandau was being forced to step backwards to avoid being hit. He faltered at a loose boulder and stumbled into a pillar, bringing down a large part of the ceiling as it crashed into the wall. Dust and debris piled on Dilandau's guymelef and clouded the room. We could only hear Master Balgus telling Van to take me and run away. Van hesitated, saying that he could not leave his country and especially leave him alone, but the master was firm.

“The samurai generals are dead, Van! Not all women and children have escaped, the men are dying, and everything has been burned down. There is nothing left here in Fanelia but death and destruction!” he shouted. “You are our king, you are our ruler. You and the queen must leave and keep yourselves alive so you can return and rebuild Fanelia!”

He coughed hard and breathed more raggedly. His face was contorted in pain. Van was rooted to his place, torn.

“There must be another way,” he breathed helplessly.

“Leave! Quick!” Master Balgus cried once more. “There is no other way! Van!”

Vapor hissed from Escaflowne's joints and the guymelef transformed into a dragon, wings poised to take flight into the setting sun. Van looked around for me, calling my name, and I ran to meet him. He held out his hand to take me, hoisted me up to his place and took off just heartbeats before Dilandau began to stand up and regain his position.

I held on to Van tightly as the sounds and sights of destruction began to fade into the distance, the image of a burning Fanelia imprinted vividly in my mind. We were flying over the mountains by then, the same natural fortresses that should have protected us from such a terrible tragedy. My head was aching painfully and my heart was weary as I recalled everything that had just happened that I couldn't help closing my eyes and drifting off.

 

 

* * *

 

She was curled into a fetal position, her hands clutching at the pendant around her neck. I lay her on a soft spot of grass and covered her with my shirt, for the air was chilly in this area of the forest we had landed in despite the blazing bonfire in front of us. If my sense of geography was reliable enough, we were probably miles in between Fanelia and Asturia, almost along the border or perhaps already past it. We had been flying for a while, and when I felt her doze off, I had decided to bring us down.

Her dress, previously white, was now hued with soot, dust and other signs of destruction. Her hair was unkempt, torn loose from the bun that had kept it in place since the morning, when we had breakfast. Her face was dirty, streaks of dust and soot coloring her pale features. I reached down to stroke her cheek gently. Hitomi looked so fragile in the state she was in, obviously shaken from everything that had happened in the past hours or so. We had left Fanelia at dusk, and it was already dark. The sky was pitch black; no stars gleamed to light our desolate state. It was a good thing that I had already gone for some fruits and water for it would be hard to find anything in this darkness.

I was seated beside Hitomi, hugging my knees to my chest. At that moment, so many questions wracked my brain: where were the people that escaped? Where had they gone to? Who were left from the destruction? What had happened to them? And it was only then, in the deathly calm of the night, that everything began to sink in with full force. Heartbeats ago I could barely register the death of my master, but now, looking at our dismal surroundings, I began to realize the extent of my situation.

First, my father died. Then, my brother, then heir to the throne, disappeared. My mother followed him and disappeared as well, never to come back. Finally, my master had just died. All of the people closest to me were being taken away…

I looked ahead and a single thought filled my mind: I was alone.

I remembered everything - the flames, the screams, the death - and realized bitterly that my kingdom was gone. Everything was burnt to the ground, from the houses, to the fields, to the temple, to the palace. It was all debris now, just remnants of a beautiful, colorful past.

And I had failed to protect the kingdom I had sworn to serve until my death.

It was all my fault…

Escaflowne lay some meters to us, once more the guymelef it originally was. I stared at it, my garnet eyes afire with contempt. Escaflowne was supposed to have helped us. Escaflowne was supposed to have protected Fanelia. Instead, it was powerless against the invisible guymelefs of Zaibach… against Dilandau.

Or rather, I was the one who was powerless…

I was a proud man, and rarely did I graciously accept defeat. Thus his name, Dilandau's name, was marked in stone. Right then and there I swore to myself with the heavens as my witnesses that I would have his head, his and the Zaibach emperor's. I would avenge Fanelia, even if it meant my life.

My fists were clenched too hard by then, and I let out a groan. It must have been a little too loud for it jolted Hitomi out of her rest, her eyes immediately alert and focused right at me.

Her initial surprise faded at the sight of me. She relaxed slightly; perhaps I had been of some comfort to her. But as quickly as she had awoken her expression changed. Pain, shock, despair and even pity colored her gaze, and she slowly reached out to wipe a tear off my face, a telltale betrayal of my inner turmoil. Her touch was gentle, almost apprehensive, and I closed my eyes in resignation, sighing heavily. At this Hitomi moved closer. Her gaze softened as her other hand moved to unclench one of my fists and link her fingers with mine.

I'm here, I could almost hear her assure me. I won't leave you.

But I was doubtful. I couldn't believe her. My jaded self refused to believe and hope.

I broke off and sat up straight, ignoring the slightly confused look Hitomi had on her face.

“Are you alright?” she finally asked. I nodded mutely, mustering a slight smile. “You can always tell me…”

I shook my head.

“You can't keep all this bottled up inside you,” she began, but I immediately cut her off.

“I told you, I'm fine,” I said rather sharply. Slowly, she nodded and drew back. Silence passed between the two of us, and neither of us dared break it. For a while, we simply sat there, staring at our own respective locus points or at nowhere in particular.

Hitomi shifted in her place and with a soft voice asked, “Where are we?”

“Inside the Black Forest. I'm not sure though whether we've already crossed the borders into Asturia or we're still in Fanelian territory,” I replied.

“Asturia,” she whispered faintly. She sat transfixed on the blazing fire, deep in thought. But I knew what she was thinking about. She was thinking of him again - the changes time would've wrought upon him for the past few years, the things that he would have been doing or have done, the times that they could have spent together had it not been for…

The leaves rustled behind us, yet there was no wind.

“What was that?” I hissed, turning behind me. Hitomi looked around as well, her eyes anxious.

The leaves rustled yet again, and a branch cracked.

“It might be just a wild animal Van,” Hitomi said. “There might be a lot of them in this part of the forest.”

“I'll go check then,” I said, standing up. “Stay here.”

She nodded and I placed my hand over the hilt of my sword fastened around my waist. There were more rustles this time around, and the movement was getting more flustered. I arched a brow, all the more believing Hitomi's idea of a forest animal causing all this noise for if it were anyone out to kill us, they wouldn't have been so obvious. I took a few more steps and paused some distance from the bushes, when all of a sudden, a figure leaped on me, screaming and pinned me to the ground.

Well, it was an animal alright. And indeed a wild one at that.

“Lord Van!” was her high-pitched wail. Seconds later I felt something wet lick my cheek.

“Merle!” I grinned, hugging the cat-girl to me. I didn't notice that my hold on her had been too tight until she started pounding on my chest to let her go. Relief that she was alive, guilt at not even remembering her during the chaos, happiness that she was with us once more - those were the emotions that had propelled me to hold her so tightly. With a hasty apology I did as she asked and she retreated a few steps back to smile at me. She was crying though; the tears wouldn't really stop, even if she was already smiling. Hitomi went up to her, patted her back gently and earned from her a low, contented purr - a gesture that showed how much the cat-girl had actually appreciated what she did for her.

It was unusual to see them like this, for Merle and Hitomi didn't get along most of the time. They'd always fight with one another over the pettiest things, with the former instigating and then running behind my back to avoid the latter's ire. Frankly I think they both enjoyed their little fights, but out of habit she continued to be more partial to me than to Hitomi, up to the point of actually dropping her title when addressing her. However not seeing them fight, seeing them openly show the sorrow that they were feeling, was disheartening. They were a living reminder of the recent tragedy, but I could not fault them at all for being so.

“Lord Van, I'm so glad I found you and Hitomi,” Merle said, sniffing in between words. “I was scared. I was so scared. Everything was burning, and we barely escaped.”

“I'm glad you're safe, Merle,” I told her. “And I'm sorry I wasn't able to find you a while back.”

“No, no, it's fine Lord Van. There's nothing to apologize for and I completely understand. I was with a few of the servants during that time, but we were separated in all the chaos. Everyone was running; everyone was screaming. We were all going into the direction of the forest, but I got lost, and I wasn't able to keep up with them,” she continued, still sniffing.

“I was about to follow them, you know. I fell asleep for a few hours somewhere in the forest, and when I woke up, I set out to look for them. I was smelling for scents and looking for footprints; I saw some leading up to the mountain, and I thought, `Yes, it would most likely be the refuge Fanelians would seek.' They might have gone to the wolf-men, I'm not sure, but not all of the people are comfortable with the wolf-men and vice versa so… But then I smelled something different. I picked up your scent, Lord Van, and I knew you were somewhere here. So I started looking around. I didn't stop until I found you. And then I saw a campfire, I heard your voices, I smelled Hitomi too, and then I found you, and then, and then…”

Merle cried again. This time, she crept into Hitomi's arms, where she was held soothingly and her fur stroked gently. We all sat in silence and waited for her to stop. Immediately she apologized in typical Merle fashion for being such a weakling, and Hitomi and I both shrugged it off.

“I'm so happy I found the both of you,” she purred, wiping her tears. “I was so scared. I was alone, and I couldn't find anybody.”

“It's a good thing you didn't immediately follow the people to the wolf-men's villages,” Hitomi smiled, still stroking her fur. “Then you wouldn't have seen us.”

Merle nodded and said, “I was about to; I really, truly was. I wanted to see first who the survivors were so that when I saw any of you, I'd have something to tell you about. I do remember some of the lords who were overseeing the evacuation of the people, but I'm not sure if they actually made it out of the blaze.”

“We will meet those survivors soon,” Hitomi said. “It'll just be a matter of time.”

There was silence again before Merle asked a question.

”Where are you going after this?” she asked, leaving both of us momentarily groping for answers.

“To an Alliance country, I believe. We can ask for help there in finding the survivors,” I said. “We have to make sure that they're alive and living with the best possible means. Alliance countries can help us with that. Also, there's going to be the issue of who attacked Fanelia…”

“Zaibach,” came Merle's soft voice. Hitomi and I turneded to look at her.

“We saw their flags. When the guymelefs appeared they brandished them. Right after they began burning everything they could lay their eyes on - people, animals, crops, houses… It was terrible,” she breathed, the nightmare being too painful to relive.

But then she turned to me and broke free from Hitomi. Crawling up to me, she looked me squarely in the eye, her irises filled with a haze of emotions I could barely distinguish from the other.

“You will rebuild Fanelia, won't you Lord Van?” she asked me with a slight quivering voice. “After you go to an Alliance country, you will come back and find everyone and start anew, won't you? You'll rebuild Fanelia and make it much better, much more beautiful than before, won't you?”

She was pleading to me, I thought. She desperately wanted it to happen. And I could only oblige, for I shared her sentiments. I too wanted to rebuild Fanelia, even though at the moment I could not find the strength and courage to do it just yet.

“Of course Merle,” I told her, reaching out to pat the top of her head. “And we'll all do it together. All of us.”

She rewarded me with a beautiful smile, then let out a low purr and snuggled into me, contented.

However minutes later something else felt amiss. Merle must have felt it too and sat up, alert, the hairs along her back rising. Hitomi moved closer to us, sensing something as well, just as the leaves in the bushes around us began to rustle once more even though there was no wind blowing. When a twig cracked, I stood up and drew my sword, keeping the two girls behind me. The movements were coming from my right, and so I turned there, poised to strike.

But then a voice spoke.

“Put down your sword, Van. There's no need for it,” it said.

It was that of a male, one so familiar that I could recognize anywhere, anytime.

I turned to look at Hitomi, who was stricken with astonishment. Merle, meanwhile, was absolutely confused.

I lowered my head and sheathed my sword. Then, with a slightly smug grin, I replied, “Done then. Step into the light, why don't you? You're giving us a fright by being so stealthy, Allen.”

And so he did step from the bushes and into the light, the glimmer of the flames dancing against his long blond hair.

To be continued…