Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ The Blood of Chivalry ❯ The Blood of Chivalry ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: Penpaninu does not claim to own characters from the Vision of Escaflowne. I wish I were that talented to write the story for a well-loved anime.

 

“The Blood of Chivalry”

A Prince Chid POV by penpaninu

 

 

Life since Father's death and the Great War of Gaea passed in a parade of decorum, ritual and ceremony befitting a prince of my kingdom. The Duchy of Freid commanded I rule for the people and never myself, that I remain vigilant, strong, and every quality that fit Father to a T. My Father was a tall imposing man of dark complexion and a fierce beard that stretched across his stern countenance. His tall strength never failed to assure me I was provided for, and his steely eyes always softened for me. More when I was a small child, but I knew Father cared for me.

Oft times I watch myself in a looking glass and bright blue eyes as clear as the sky watch me in return. My short hair is cropped close in the back, and blond as everyone said Mother's was. I was sure I had gotten my looks solely from her as a lineage of dark-haired bearded dukes had ruled Freid for centuries. Asturia's royalty flowed in my veins and I took solace in the fact that even though Mother had passed on, she was still with me, peering out at me through the looking glass of our similar looks.

 

“Prince Chid, the dignitaries are awaiting your appearance in the Throne Room,” Gangi says sternly. He wasn't as experienced as Voris, or as rotund my mind kindly recalled, but he was as loyal, and ready to serve the royal house of Freid. I clasp my slender hands together and stride with a purpose down the stone hallways of the palace I knew from birth. My guards and Gangi flank me from behind, granting me a princely escort to the high chair I climbed up to sit cross-legged in.

Those slender pair hands I take long moments to study rest against my knees in a kingly manner. I addressed the dignitaries as they bow low with the monks lining my throne room walls. I keep my gaze stretched to the farthest reaches of the stone chamber as Father had taught me. I remember it well, how he carried me against his strong shoulder, my small arms clasped around the smooth linen of his sleeping robe. It was well past the witching hour, and only a lone guard trailed after to ensure our protection even in Freid's palace.

“You sit high up here, Chid. Always keep your gaze distant, and your expression smooth. Freid's ruler must always be sure of his convictions,” Father told me as he sat me in his throne. My tiny legs had dangled and I looked around from the height in wonder, sure that one day I would get to sit up here again once Father said it was alright.

 

“Yes, Father,” I had said softly. Father's stern eyes softened and he picked me up, holding me close.

“You are a good son, Chid. You will make Freid proud,” he had whispered. That memory was ever close to my heart. Sometimes I wondered why Father would be severely stern with me years later, but take the smallest moments to remind me of his love for me.

I sighed and clasped my hands over my knees. I had to sit up here until business was finished, ruler of Freid or not. Father instilled discipline in me however, and I would survive the meeting.

 

Once the delegations were over and I got to climb down from Father's high seat, my time was taken over to reading scrolls and applying Freid's seal. Millerna Oba-sama had sent a personal letter that I took the time to read with a wide smile on my regal lips. I would answer her at great length. Funny, Auntie's letters were always somewhat sad in tone. I wonder if she was merely sad at King Aston's passing. I truly grieved over my grandfather, even though I had seen him very little. But Auntie had her elder sister, the Princess Eries. Auntie would be all right. And she had the Knight Caeli, Allen Schezar to protect her and her kingdom. That was enough, wasn't it? Gangi cleared his throat behind my desk.

“Highness, won't we continue on with your weapons training?” he murmured politely. I nodded and stood, my over robe swishing.

“Of course, Gangi. It's that time again isn't it?” I asked in return. Gangi stood at attention, one fist over his bare chest.

 

Out in the courtyard I strip down to my tunic. Freid's crest was sewn elaborately across the breast, and my leggings were light silk, my boots soft worn leather. Mother's ring was on the middle finger of my left hand, shining in the sun. I looked every bit of a prince, but Gangi and the guards asked I continue with the weapons training Father surely would have wanted me to know. Growing up with tales of Father's battle prowess, and seeing him practice with a blade in the stone wide courtyard told me I wanted to make him proud.

Gangi brings my imperial blade, Father's own weapon. It was passed from Duke to Duke, and like many royal houses of Gaea, held the crest in the hilt so opponents would know whose blade they were facing. It was very long and curved, but I could hold it in one slim arm. Gangi faces me with his own blade, blunted for safety's sake, and salutes.

“On guard,” I command and my advisor and I whirl around each other in battle's dance. I know not where I got my grace from, the quick decisive steps taken to evade my partner's blows. Father had always been large and imposing, quick to take a blade against his own rather than dance away. He was strong where I was quick, dark where I was fair. Indeed, did Mother's uncles move with this fluidity or speed? Was my martial ability taken from Asturia alone?

Gangi moved with me with a grunt and our blades clanged together, the steel kissing and singing loudly under the blue Freid sky. Finally we stop, and Gangi regards me with unrestrained respect. I salute him with Father's blade and Gangi returns the gesture. We resheathe and smile like young boys venturing at their first practice.

 

“You are very fast, Highness,” Gangi observes. “Your father was more stolid, and not as swift.”

“But his strength was noticeable,” one of my guards added. I smiled as I rubbed the back of my neck, the curls of my short blond hair twirling against my fingers.

“I believe I will answer my aunt's letter now,” I said and I hold my arms out for my valet to help me back into my over tunic.

 

I passed the rest of the evening answering treaties and other social niceties. Auntie's letter I save for last so I can answer in great length. Her tone was always warm, but the sadness I read before was still there in her carefully penned words.

`How I wish I were there to see you on your Father's throne, Chid. You must be so tall now, and so mature. Asturia is in your veins as well, so please show her gallantry as well as Freid's strength.' I smile and tap a finger affectionately against the scroll. Auntie was forever reminding me of my Asturia blood. How she must miss Mother as Father and I had. I pick up a fresh piece of parchment and a servant hands me a ready new quill, sharpened with a dagger. I dip the end into a well stone of ink and begin my response to Asturia's ruler.

 

`My dear Aunt Millerna, I can't begin to express my joy at another response from you. Freid is doing well and I am progressing as far as would make Father and Mother proud. I dearly hope you can make a visit to Freid's palace once again, for this trip would be far more enjoyable as we live in a time of peace….'

I finished the letter and read it over making sure all was neat and legible. My servants take it to dry and then seal to send on its way over to Asturia with the next envoy leviship. I leaned back, running a hand through my blond hair as I went over the most puzzling part of Auntie's letter.

`Your mother and I used to listen to her music box constantly when we were younger. It broke my heart when she took it with her to Freid upon marrying your Father, but it holds a special place in both of our hearts….'

Why did Auntie go on about that music box? I knew which she referred to, the large ornate box in the manor Father had built for Mother. I loved walking through the lavishly furnished rooms, but it made me sad for Mother's presence was no longer here in an icon built for her past. Auntie had used those rooms when she and her strange friends, along with Allen Schezar, had fled to our borders in hopes of sanctuary and to pass on warnings of Zaibach's wrath.

 

A strange compulsion takes hold of me and I wrap my over tunic tightly around my tall form. Three monk guards follow me with their long staffs of wood as I make the way over to Mother's Manor. Was there something about her music box? Why else would Auntie go off on length about it? I was taught by Voris years ago; that if someone went in great detail about something, there usually was a reason for it.

The monks stay in the gardens outside the door as I light a lamp and carry it to Mother's desk. Her music box sat waiting, and I wound it. A light tune sang out to my ears and I lounged back in the desk's chair, my mind conjuring images of feather-winged angels praying. They all held pendants similar to Hitomi-donno's. Of course I would think of the citizens of Atlantis. The family of Freid guarded the secrets of their destroyed wisdom and only the holy monks of that far off temple also knew of the origins of the Power Spot housed in our borders.

 

I sigh and play with the edges of the music box. Is this what Auntie wanted me to do, to remember my royal family's ancient duties? But she kept writing about my Asturian blood…. My wandering fingers triggered a small button and I sit, transfixed as the face of the music box whirls to the side, revealing a secret compartment. What was this? A small book sat importantly, hidden no longer. Asturia's royal seal was engraved on the leather cover.

I slowly pick up the book and read the first page.

`My younger sisters Eries and Millerna do not want to go with me on a tour inspection with Father. How he was angry with them! My little sisters make me laugh aloud with joyful mirth that we all need after Mother passed with Millerna's entrance to this world….'

It was Mother's journal! I didn't even know she had kept one and I can't stop the eager smile spreading across my lips as I lean forward in the chair, holding the journal close like a favorite member of the family. She had left something behind for me! She had died so suddenly from her illness that all Father and I could do in the wake of our grief was try to survive each day, each week and each year while doing our duty. Every child longs for a note from a deceased parent and I had found something better. Mother's thoughts and hopes and wishes were written in her own hand in these pages. Was this what Auntie had wanted me to find?

 

I read for hours in the manor styled after Asturian architecture. The monks peered in and asked if my imperial highness was well. I released them from their watch, and assured them I would find my way back into the palace without calamity. Gangi was sure to reprimand these young guards severely for taking a prince at his word, but they left me alone with happy moments of reading my Mother's dreams.

`Today my uncle took me to a tournament in Asturia's honor. There was a youth there, shining bright as a blade, and a real prodigy of the sword. His name was Allen Schezar.'

 

I laugh aloud at that first mention of the greatest of Asturia's Knights Caeli in Mother's hand. Memories of her stories of his famed prowess, of his strength and nobility and his loyalty came to mind. How I had listened wide-eyed to a knight my mother had obviously known and respected. She must have been his friend for years!

I eagerly read on and on, but my heart grows troubled and my mind fuzzy. Mother's admiration of Allen grew and grew in her entries and it was enough to make me think she had developed something of an attraction to him. My heart sinks to my stomach and to my feet when I read the words that confirm this to my confused emotions.

 

`I like him. I love him. This is the tragedy of royalty. Why must I be a princess of Asturia? One of my rank can never be with a knight. This is what happens when royalty falls in love.' I close my eyes and shake my head hard. So Mother had harbored feelings for Allen Schezar. My memories of my tall blond, gentle mother told me she had love enough for everyone she met. Anyone would be blind not to have her love as a friend. Or so I tried to console myself. It was common knowledge Mother had been betrothed to Father at the date I just read in her journal. She had been Father's loving wife. My mind reverted to childish affirmation at this self-assuring thought.

Mother had loved Father dearly. I was told arranged marriages learned to sort themselves out, and my parents had grown into something real and something substantial of the heart. I knew Father had loved her fiercely. My parents had been in love, I told myself as I read on. My heart wants to make me sick at the last entries I come to.

 

`What shall I do? The Duke has only to count the days to know the baby is not his.' The words blurred and I rubbed my eyes. The wetness did not go away and I shake my head violently. Father's stern face came to mind, and his kind eyes when he instructed me in something a prince of Freid would need to know. Did Freid sire me at all?

 

In almost denial, I re-read the words that threatened to unmake my very existence. `The Duke has only to count the days to know…. The baby is not his….'

 

What did this mean? Why did she write this to hide it away?

 

My father was not my real father?

Mother's leather bound journal slips from my numb fingers and falls to the floor. My jaw clenched, loosened and clenched again. Images of the tall and slim blond knight Allen Schezar walk through the darkness of my mind, as high as the heavens, and gallant and noble as I always knew he would be.

“Chid. Have you ever believed in anyone with all of your heart? Sometimes it takes more courage to believe in someone than to fight.” How kind and how knowing his eyes had been, far more knowing than a mere knight serving a prince of Gaea.

“Allen?… Allen is my?…” My tongue stutters. I sink to my knees, then fall the rest of the way to the floor. Then I bury my face in my hands, my pale angular face so similar to a man I had idolized. My father had not been my real father.

 

End for now

 

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Sincerely, penpaninu 3/26/06