Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ The Way of War ❯ Capture! Why do they need me?? ( Chapter 2 )

Migel ran as fast as he could. He could smell smoke, and prayed that it was someone cooking their morning meal. In the distance, he could see black plumes of smoke, spiraling into the sky..

He ran until the world around him became nothing but a blur of green and brown. His legs hurt so badly, and he was in dire need of some food and water. He stopped at the edge of the village, gasping for breath. All he could see was the bright orange light of the flames. They surrounded him, their cruel, menacing curls looking like the smiles of devils. Smoke drifted from between their teeth and over to him, trying to suffocate him in their putrid fumes. He coughed, and looked about hopelessly for his family, ignoring the taunts of the demons in the blaze.

He felt a sudden pang of panic, and ran into the blazing village. His house was towards the center of the village. It was so hard to run in this extreme heat, but he pumped his legs faster and faster, even though there was no air left in his lungs to support him.

He saw several of the Zaibachians on horseback, taking away captives who were bound in rope and struggling helplessly upon the horses backs. He ran faster, fearing for his and his family's life.

"Shit.. Oh god.. shit.."

He saw a blonde soldier at his house, holding his mother up to him with his sword. She was frozen with fear, staring down at the bloodied corpse of his father. Claes, his brother, was no where to be seen. Hopefully, he had escaped, and not been caught in the inferno that was their house.

His mother caught site of Migel. She began screaming something that he could not hear over the other screams around him, but he knew what she was saying:

"Run."

Migel shook his head, and cautiously walked up to another soldier that stood triumphantly over his father's body. He stood for quite some time behind the other boy, whose curly blonde hair was dampened with his sweat.

"It just makes my heart pound.." he laughed, and kicked the body to the side. The other soldier holding his mother didn't seem to notice him; he was far too interested in fondling his mother's body. She was quite young and beautiful, but the thought of that happening to her sickened him. He slowly, soundlessly, readied his bow and arrow. He held the cruel metal point to the back of the other's neck.

"Let her go." He said quietly.

"Guimel!" The other cried out, but still held his mother to his chest.

"Let her go!" He said, and pressed the point into his neck. Some blood trickled out from the wound, tickling the hairs on his neck.

"Zion.. Let her go!" Guimel moaned, his heart pounding. He had never been in a situation where he was the one who could die at another's will..

Zion growled, and sliced through the tender flesh of his mother's neck. Migel stood, frozen, paralyzed. That hadn't just happened.. had it? The crimson blood flowed so easily onto her white dress, and onto the ground. She let out a futile cry, almost a squeak, pleading for her son to help her. But Migel didn't know what to do..

She fell to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was growing paler by the minute, and all Migel could do was watch in horror, helpless, as his mother died before him. She fell forward, her eyes glazed over and staring helplessly at whatever lay in front of her.

"Ha! No point in killing him! Your mother is dead, little boy! What are you going to do about it!?"

He stepped over the body, towards Migel. He had his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw.

"Now just come along quietly boy, and you won't have to die."

Guimel spun around, and drew his sword, holding it point first to Migel's neck. Migel still held the arrow strung back tight, ready to leap out at its victim. It's cruel menacing tip craved blood, and blood it would get.

"Put the arrow down." Guimel said. Migel laughed, and let go of the arrow. It went flying off, away from the Guimel.

"Oh my God, Zion, he missed me! How pathetic!"

"I didn't miss anything." Migel said coldly. Guimel's face went suddenly pale. He turned to see his brother, standing frozen in shock. The arrow had pierced straight through his neck. He fell to his knees, like Migel's mother did, reaching out from his brother's help. He couldn't even breathe, much less cry for help. Zion died quicker than his mother did, falling to the ground with a loud thump.

Guimel and Migel stood, emotionless, trying to comprehend what had happened for several moments. Dilandau rode up on his horse, laughing.

"This is so much fun!" He had two unconscious captives on the back if his horse. He held his right hand high, with a torch in hand. The albino looked down to the ground where his soldier lay, and sighed.

"What a pathetic display." He said, and dropped the torch next to the boy's body. His dragon leather's caught flame quickly.

"But there's no harm in burning the body." He laughed. "Well, in any case, I figured his recklessness would get him killed some day. It's just the way of war, you know.." Dilandau turned his attention to Guimel, and waved his free hand towards Migel.

"Guimel, take that boy. He looks strong enough."

Guimel didn't reply to his commander. He stared helplessly at his brother's body, which was burning quickly. You could already smell the flesh, strong and putrid. Migel wanted to vomit.

"Guimel!" He screamed in anger, and dismounted. He smacked the boy hard. Guimel fell backwards, holding his face. He hit the ground with a loud thump, and looked around momentarily, like a lost puppy. Then, he curled up, head resting on his knees, and began to cry.

Dilandau kicked him, screaming in frustration. "Fine! I'll do it the fuck myself! I swear, I can't depend on you for anything! And your brother was even worse! I'm glad he's dead!"

Guimel looked up, and sniffled, quickly regaining his composure.

"I'm sorry sir."

"Better be."

Dilandau turned his attention to Migel, who was staring at his bow and arrow. Dilandau smacked him, and the weapons went flying from his grasp. He fell backwards, befuddled momentarily. After realizing what had just happened, he stared up at this man, no.. boy with contempt for what he had done to his village, his family. Everything he had ever held dear to him was gone.

"That's for killing one of my men. Maybe you'll learn that you don't fuck with us, slave." He kicked Migel's temple with his boot. He gasped, and fell onto his back, his world turning black around him. He could feel blood trickling down the side of his head, and onto the ground. He prayed that he would die of a concussion. He felt two armored hands pick him up and throw him onto the rump of a horse. His stomach lurched when he saw the ground moving beneath him. Migel wasn't sure if he had vomited from the dizzying point of view, but he was pretty sure he did. His stomach jumped at each akward bounce, and when they started galloping is when it got really bad. Eventually, he just couldn't take it anymore, and closed his eyes. He just wanted this horrible new reality that had been thrust upon him to go away. Let it be a dream. Just let it fade away, and be a dream..

Just let It fade away. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- - --------------------------------

Migel awoke in some cruel looking little room, cram packed with other people. Mostly young men and able women, it seemed.. all from the village. He recognized faces, but couldn't place names with them. His head spun, and the room seemed to be swaying gently, which didn't make the situation any better. He looked around, and realized the room actually was swaying.. they were on a ship. The room was dank and humid, and there didn't seem to be much light or air circulation provided, which could make for some very unpleasant situations later on. If someone got sick and threw up, (him for example) the rest of the passengers would just have to deal with the smell for the rest of the trip.

He let his head rest on the cold metal wall. This was all a bit too much to handle for one day, and it seemed to go by so quick, that it had to be a dream. He felt himself getting sicker by the minute. He desperately needed some medical attention, or else he could die of a concussion. Although he had been wishing for it earlier, he realized that he wanted to live on, so he could avenge his family.. or.. do something the commemorate them.. he didn't know what, but the felt that he had to stay alive.

He placed a supportive hand on the wall, and pulled himself up. He shakily stepped over several bound and unconscious people, over to the two guards by the doorway. He felt it was a futile attempt to ask for some medical attention, but it was worth a try.

"I.. I think I need some.. um.." the room temporarily turned black. But he quickly regained his composure, and continued from where he left off.

"I think I have a concussion.. I.. can I have some.. medical attention? Or something?"

The guard narrowed his eyes at the boy, and with a slight wave of the hand, the other guard ran up the stairs.

"This is only because we have strict orders to prevent any death amongst the captives. You are sorely needed in Zaibach."

"I thank you, sir.."

The guard rolled his eyes, and pushed Migel to his knees. "Sit down before you pass out, boy."

He sighed, and crossed his legs.

It seemed to take hours for the other guard to return with someone who might have been of some help. He looked like he was a soldier, not a medical professional. But his smile was soft and caring, his eyes showing a certain level of tenderness that Migel felt he could trust.

He held out a welcoming hand to help the boy to his feet. He smiled warm, and spoke with a voice that didn't seem to fit with a boy in cruel looking armor like his.

"Hello, my name is Chesta."