Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ When Escaflowne Rescued Trilladen ❯ My Little Brat ( Chapter 28 )

Chapter three

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My Little Brat

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The village of Ozark slept in the stillness of the night. Not one warrior noticed that the sounds of the night that usually performed a cacophony of chirps, squeaks, buzzings, hummings, howls, and crackles had suddenly stopped. The stars twinkled in the blackness of the midnight sky. The two moons were small crescents offering little illumination.

Softly padded footsteps of literally hundreds of men filled the village grounds with a terrible foreboding. Packer, who was the guardian for this night was snoring loudly at the entrance of the village. Suddenly that snoring coughed loudly ending with a violent grunt. Silence and then footsteps followed suit. Packer, the youngest warrior of the wolf pack of Ozark was dead. Slashed at the throat he choked on his own blood.

The footsteps paused. A deafening silence. A demonic cry as loud and gruesome as rotting flesh filled the air in an enraged burst. Young children sleeping were stirred to consciousness with terror. Mothers screamed. Fathers roared and howled and fell. The surprise 'attack' of sleeping families was a slaughter. The lucky few with enough presence of mind fell silent and dead-like on the ground, for Freid citizens were not savy seasoned warriors. Some managed to huddle in the darkness as the sounds of killing tortured their souls. The strong and swift escaped into the darkness to deal with the guilt of surviving by abandoning their people.

The pack of wolves that had settled into the village of Ozark was decimated. Out of the pack only twenty-five survived to bear witness, twenty-five out of three hundred villagers.

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Folken was awakened by a sharp pain in his side. Twisting his torso to the pain his eyes opened up to an angry Merle.

"Will you wake up? There is urgent business for the captain of this floating dump." She hissed.

Folken blinked hard and tried to focus. His ire had not yet matched his befuddled newly found consciousness. Mostly he didn't know why his sweet beloved was being so annoying. But alertness soon followed.

"Merle, good morning to you too." He said.

"It isn't morning, well not the waking part of it anyway. There's some people stranded and are asking permission to board. Darius won't let them. He says he doesn't trust it, but there's a pregnant woman down there and it's cold. Do all of your soldiers have to be so heartless?"

"If Darius doesn't trust the situation, then I trust his judgement, pregnant woman or not." He got up and arched his back to stretch. His naked torso threw Merle into a heated state which only made her more cantankerous.

"Well I don't think you should judge the situation based purely on someone who is never going to have to carry the weight of a child in front for nine months." She snapped and leaped from her bed.

Folken sighed in a resigned fashion. After years of dealing with Naria and Eriya when they went into heat, he didn't think he'd ever get used to the complete personality change from sweet and wonderful to evil and mean and unreasonable and ugly and…

Merle kicked him. "Would you hurry up!"

Folken grunted in pain and irritation. "Is there anything that I can say to make you nice to me today?"

Merle's eyes teared up. How can he be so stupid? Doesn't he know how much I need him to touch me? It's like he doesn't need me the way I need him.

"Why do you look so depressed?" He asked.

"Because you're an idiot. Because I ache for you and you could care less. Because you make me feel so alone!" She dramatically threw herself back on the bed and wept copiously.

Sighing Folken stretched out beside her and tried to put his arm on her shoulder.

"Would you go rescue that poor pregnant woman already!" She jerked shoulder up and forward to throw his hand away from her. Folken shook his head and refused to be baited any longer.

"You stew while I see who these people are. Get some sleep. You're cranky." He left.

Merle jumped out of bed and paced the floor. Doesn't he realize how bad he makes me feel? I am a grown catwoman and I want him! Why won't he do something about that? I have to get through to him? He's driving me crazy!

Folken walked out of the hallway getting stares every step he took-only he was oblivious to it. He was still bare-chested and his metal arm gleamed dangerously in the lighting. He thought back on his sweet kitty twins and remembered their moods. When they changed and grew things became more complicated. Aware of their feelings for him and feeling a different sort of caring-more like a responsibility for their welfare, he only knew to withdraw as they developed into mature young woman warriors.

Thinking back he used them only as a means to an end, Emperor Dornkirk's end. The familiar shame of his misdeeds to those two radiated in his heart. He'd grown accustomed to their looks of longing and even had used that to his advantage. It wasn't until things fell apart and they were dying did he realize his concern went deeper. He would never forgive himself the terrible wrong to them he had committed in betraying their trust.

Yes, they'd placed their complete faith in him and he was responsible for their death. He should have held more sacred their lives under his service. With a lead weight pressed against his heart his thought once again became all inclusive as he reiterated to himself yet again that he should have held all life more sacred than he did at that time.

He'd saved them as children and sacrificed them as women who loved him, still believing in him to the end. With a deep-rooted regret that would never go away, he knew he would never be able to make up to them his mistakes. They were gone. Merle was here. He would never be worthy of her. He'd abused a trust in his cats before and there can be no cleansing of that. He should push Merle away for her own good. His guilty feelings would always get in the way.

Darius saw his liege lord walking in a depressed haze toward the lift to the bridge and paused. "Um, sire…your waist-shirt…it's uh…"

Folken's head bent down to view his naked torso and realized he fled so fast that he didn't give himself time to properly attire in his uniform. Shaking his head in disgust he replied, "Just don't say a thing not related to this new development." Folken advised warily.

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir. But it's only hours passed the midnight moons and there's a group of people down on the ground hailing us with fire signals. Considering the blast I almost picked them up, but it doesn't feel right. I mean, at this time of night they should be in shelter-especially a pregnant woman. And we are close to the borders of Freid, Asturia, and Ozark. How'd they get here so fast? And why are there only six men and one pregnant woman and no children? I don't like it. Something is not right, I just can't put my finger on it and Cerise and Percival are about to hex me just because the woman is with child and it's cold. The scope didn't pick up anything else, no other activity, but it could be an ambush."

Folken shook his head. "Darius, you need a vacation. Who would dare ambush a Zaibach floating fortress? Even if there were fifty soldiers lurking in the shrubbery below, we have jets and melefs, including the Escaflowne, and over four hundred infantry soldiers ready to fight at a moments notice-and they are all rested. Or should I say restless? Bring them up and get the woman into sickbay and let me retreat to my sweet hell." Folken turned around and left for his private quarters.

Darius grumbled and went off to follow Folken's orders. Cerise and Percival were foaming at the mouth at the landing dock waiting for the orders to be put out. I still don't like this. Lord Folken usually listens to me. Darius drummed through the details of his order feeling uneasy.

As the seven were brought on board, Cerise and Percival tended to them. Cerise sensed death on their backs, as if the mist of ghosts lingered around them. A gross insanity lurked at the edges of their aura as a group. She was suddenly put on guard, but said nothing. Percival was a healer, not a necromancer. He only saw battered spirits and tired bodies that were old and tired to soon in life.

They all were ushered to the sickbay and given beds or cots to rest in. The pregnant woman complained of hunger and was restless through the night. The guards Darius appointed to watch the entrance of the sickbay were asleep long before she was. She tossed and turned and waited for her opportunity. She knew she would chance it, no matter if she were killed. This last child within her would not know its older brothers, for they were gone.

The woman crept out of bed and sickbay silently. She feigned sleepwalking. She walked slowly, her back aching from the burden of being heavy with child. She found the landing dock where she'd first entered. There was the Escaflowne. The Ispano Guymelef. The monstrosity loomed high up to the ceiling of the bay though it was in a seated rest from fighting.

She slowly, awkwardly climbed up to the head of the melef. Twice she lost footing and almost tragically fell, only to right herself in complete fear. Adrenaline coursed through her plump body and the babe stirred from it kicking in protest. Then she found the panel and flipped it open. Pushing the lever that would summon the mother ship, the beacon that shot from it blurped and lit up startling her. She tried to get down but found that getting down was even more difficult than getting up to the top. She couldn't see her feet after all with a belly bulging out like the blue moon itself. By the time she was back on the floor, the entire floating fortress was alarmingly aware that all was not right as the huge arm of the mother ship dipped down from the heavens.

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The last of the wolf pack from the village of Ozark had gathered by the shores of Teardrop Lake. Grief surpassed rage as the strong and the smart noticed that none of the children had escaped the slaughter. No pups scampered and whimpered, only seven she-wolves and the rest were males. The pack would probably die out if Ruhm didn't take them in.

They started their silent anguished trek to Fanelia, hoping for refuge, and a chance to bear witness to the unprovoked slaughter of an entire wolf pack from some deranged people. They walked through the rest of the night into morning, leaving memories of a joyful life forever behind.

As they walked in the light of the moons, they noticed a shining rock jutting out of the ground blocking the path to the road to Fanelia. As they got closer to it they noticed that the rock was really a giant crystal, the color of their very eyes, a burnished yellow brown. The smokey topaz boulder began to flicker within its depths and the rock suddenly became alive with images lit up in the night. The images replayed the crimes of this night and identified the murderous crowd to be…

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The geckoes were giggling at the scene the young girl made. There she is a beauty to rival the light of the Mystic Moon, stuck up in a tree howling like a newborn bear cub. Crying loudly and looking frightened and angry, the reptilian beings discovered her caught up in the huge old camphor tree like a stranded kitten. They waded out of the pristine waters of the cool lake and peddled up to the wide tree trunk and listened in extreme amusement to the wails of her predicament.

She would turn this way and that, try her footing on one branch only to abandon the attempt for something seemingly less risky only to try again the footing of massive branches that could crush a dragon. She was infantile and adorable, but extremely loud. The geckoes finally decided to end the moment of brevity to rescue the poor slip of a girl. With ease their suction cupped finger tips slapped up the tree.

The girl finally seemed to notice the reptiles and immediately screamed in terror and protest. "Go away! You ugly green toads! Go! Get. I don't want you here. Go! Ugly vile creatures! Don't scrape with me! I warn you! I know things! I do and I'll turn you into something uglier and smaller and stomp on you. I know people in high places too! Go away!"

The geckoes just laughed all the harder until one of them got a boot in the face. The girl was kicking them and she definitely had something of an advantage being higher up. The next one stopped laughing and tried to reason with her.

"Listen here, missy. You can't be up here. You'll fall and hurt yourself. We just want to help you down, now be a nice girl and let us get hold of you." He reached up to the next branch and she stomped on his hand. "YOUCH! Oh that hurts! You ungrateful brat. When I rescue you, first thing I'm gonna do is turn you over my knee and spank you!"

"You'll have to catch me first, you ugly lizard. I don't like green slimy men. Go away!" She stomped and kicked and punched and socked and slapped and hit until all six of the geckoes admitted defeat. One small young lady bested the lot of them. None was quick to talk of it, and soon they would turn things around in their minds. The girl was a witch and must be aided by ghosts or she had invisible warriors, but she alone could not beat good strong geckoes such as they. It was a strange oddity that they would always keep as a secret.

Or they would've had it not been for the wolf pack who hid in the shrubbery and observed the comical scene. Had their hearts not been so heavy, they would have enjoyed the humor of it. But for now, they watched the geckoes grumble and scramble away wading into the lake again. Let the girl fall down and break her neck for all they cared, ungrateful brat.

As the geckoes disappeared into the darkness of the early morning, for the moons offered little illumination, the wolves stepped out and rounded about the tree. Demetrius was Packer's older brother and had reluctantly assumed leadership of them. He spoke up.

"Young miss, are you going to stay there and die or will you be wanting our help. We're not geckoes, we're wolves and we won't eat you."

The girl sniffled. "How do I know you're not lying. My muscles are young and tender and I am sure I'd be a tasty treat to the likes of you." She asked in a pouting fashion.

At that Demetrius did smile. "Well now, if I had a taste for young humans I guess I'd try to trick you, except I could scale that tree and gobble you whole. But I don't bother with humans, the meat on their bones spoils too quickly and there's twenty-four more to feed." Turning and looking at the others in the pack he asked loudly, "Do any of you have a hankering for girl flesh tonight?"

The remnants of the pack looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "No, Demetrius, I don't think we do. I can safely say I'd rather eat bugs." Waldon piped in.

"Bugs! You'd compare my flesh to some creepy crawly too many legged ugly filthy bugs? What's your liking? COCKROACHES! Dogs never had enough brains to make them anything but pets! Scruffy old mangy stray animals!" She huffed.

At that the wolfman growled a warning. "You'll be showing the survivors of the Ozark massacre some respect, young brat. We are barely a pack, but we still have our family's history. And Ruhm is nigh on close to Fanelia where we go. You can join us if you shut up. No one here wants to help you down, less you ask." Demetrius stated coldly.

The young girl sniffled. "I don't know what you talk of. What massacre?"

"These things are better left unsaid until the proper time. I give you no other warning. We leave." Demetrius waves to the others and they begin to disperse.

"Wait! You can't just leave me here! I need help! You darn dogs, help me now!" She yelled at him. They ignored her and her true distress pealed through her voice. "Oh please, I don't know because I just don't know! I don't know anything anyway. I don't, really."

When the little girl in her sounded through Demetrius halted and tilted his head up to listen. "What is your name, little brat?"

She pouted for a half second but then replied, "I don't know." Her head bent down in shame even as her eyes glared defiance.

"I believe you, but if I come up to help you down and you hurt me I will leave you as the geckoes did. Will you be a peaceful sweet girl or a little brat?"

Barely above a sullen whisper she responded. "Sweet and peaceful."

"What?"

Louder and laced with sarcasm she said again, "Sweet and peaceful." And then batted her eyes.

"I very much doubt that little brat. And since you don't seem to have a name, I shall call you my little brat." And then he was up the tree and carrying her down and she sulked.

"Then I will call you burger-nose-billy-goat!" She finally retorted after her feet were on the ground.

"You will call me Demetrius. And if you don't want a spanking you'll answer to My Little Brat when I call you."

With indignant tears in her eyes, she marched ahead.

"Um, excuse me, My Little Brat, but Fanelia is that way." He drying informed her. She turned around and stood still. Tears running freely now.

With a little softness he said, "No tears, My Little Brat. I have too many of my own unshed. Let's walk. Here, take my hand. You're not alone."

Sniffling and wiping her snot and tears on the back of her hands she walked up to him and hugged his midsection.

"How old are you?" He asked.

She just shrugged her shoulders and got a smart allecky look on her face.

"Oh that's right, you don't know anything. Not even your name or how old you are or where your parents are or anything."

She looked up at him as if to say "Duh!" He put his arm around her shoulder and immediately adopted the orphaned waif. She felt relief and love immediately mingled with stubborn pride. I know I am somebody, I just don't know who!

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The mother ship hovered above the floating fortress the way an elephant looms above a prairie dog. Folken was at the bridge watching the scene in confusion. Van was with him.

"If you didn't send for them then who did?" Folken was asking.

Van shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, utterly amazed at how the monstrosity dwarfed even the floating fortress.

Darius was at the helm overseeing the docking of the Ispano carrier transit. "Sire, I don't like this."

"Darius, you don't like any sort of surprises. But you're right, I don't like this either."

"When I inspected the Escaflowne I couldn't see any sign or clue as to who set off the distress signal." Van added.

"We'll have to apologize to them. They aren't going to like it."

"Who cares what they like or don't like, greedy little bastards." Allen grumbled.

Folken arched an eyebrow in his direction. "What do you suppose we should do? Say we changed our minds?"

"Make them wait until the morning light and then tell them that." Allen suggested derisively.

"Sire, the mother ship is sending down an aircraft." Darius piped in.

"Looks like they have a crew ready to get an astronomical estimate." Allen offered dryly. "Too bad Dryden isn't here to throw some money around."

The transit carrier moved smoothly to the lower hull of the fortress to the landing dock. Within moments the viewing screen of the bridge lost sight of it as it sank towards its destination. Cerise walked in like an empress to speak to Folken.

"I would speak with you now. We have urgent business." Cerise stated imperiously.

Folken rolled his eyes heavenward and turned to her. "Yes, my dear, what is it?"

"Alone. I want to talk to you alone." She said.

"It would be my pleasure." A slight hint of sarcasm laced his voice. He didn't notice that Merle had followed behind and heard him say that and take it completely the wrong way. Folken led Cerise into the conference chamber to listen to her.

"Something is terribly wrong with the people we picked up earlier. Something very bad has happened. I don't know what happened but there are ghosts lingering about them. Their aura is clouded and their eyes look dead."

"Can you find out?" Folken asked.

"Not without them knowing. I couldn't contact the spirits that haunt them without them consenting to it. They'd have to acknowledge their troubled souls first. It isn't an easy process. I suspect they have done something very bad and don't even know of the restitution that would be required of them. They should be spiritually quarantined. Their troubles could leak out onto this ship, to the crew."

"They are already in sickbay."

"So are the princess and Queen recovering there. They will have to be moved immediately. The princess needs to be put in Allen's quarters. The queen isn't sick, just exhausted as is the King. Just look at him. Too much has been required of him, and I'm sorry for it."

"Take care of it then." Folken ordered. At that she left and he reentered the bridge.

"Sire, something's not right. The transit carrier is leaving." Darius informed him.

"Leaving? That doesn't make sense. Signal them through communications." Folken ordered.

"I have and they don't respond." Darius said.

"Contact the landing dock and get a status report."

"Yessir!"

The transit carrier was already loading onto the mother ship. The hatch opened and shut and the air was still around them. As they waited for the mother ship to respond, Darius spoke up.

"Sir, the landing dock does not respond either."

"Send a sentry unit down there immediately. I want to know what's happening, dammit!"

"There's a distress call from sickbay." Darius stated.

"Patch it in."

"They're gone! The queen and the princess and the refugees! Even the pregnant woman! Everyone's gone! " It was Cerise's voice. She sounded frightened.

Van and Allen ran out of the bridge simultaneously. Merle followed after them calling for Van. The mother ship began to ascend into the heavens.

"Darius, we can't stop the ship, it's too big. Switch to open intercom. Allen they're on the mother ship and it's leaving. Get to landing dock and suit up in a cloaking guymelef now! Hitch a ride, move fast!" The intercom echoed Folken's urgent voice.

"Sir, the sickbay is signaling again."

"Patch it through."

"Allen's sister is still here. They didn't take Yukari either, and they both seem all right. I'm sorry, I was so alarmed I just reacted when I saw all those empty beds. The queen is with child, she shouldn't have been moved, she's exhausted. The healers on duty at the sickbay have been knocked out."

"Tend to the healers and I'll check back with you." Folken's voice was clipped.

"Dammit! Darius I should've listened to you, old friend."

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The engineers were bound and gagged. Only one was free to pilot the ship under duress. Hitomi was too exhausted to stay awake so she slumped against the princess. The princess sat beside the queen and protectively wrapped her arm around to provide some comfort. She was afraid and didn't know how, but knew that Mugwa was behind this.

The small band from Freid turned out to be a team set out to ambush the Ispano mother ship. They were well on their way to succeeding, but holding two important royals from powerful nations as hostages was insurance for the mission. International incidents was a thing the Ispano government was notorious for avoiding. They didn't even take up arms against Zaibach when the empire threatened to destroy all of Gaea.

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Demetrius and My Little Brat walked silently together. An anguished howling from the distance stopped the pack from advancing any farther.

"What was that?" She asked fearfully.

"Not a wolf. Sounds like a dragon. Must be wounded or dying." Demetrius said.

"We will avoid the beast just to be safe."

The howling pierced the night stillness again. The sound was truly pitiful.

"It sounds so sad. Can't we help it? It's breaking my heart." She asked him.

"No it's too dangerous. I'm sorry, My Little Brat." He told her.

The howling was weaker and steeped in pain and anguish. The dragon truly sounded as though it was crying. My Little Brat couldn't take it. She yanked her hand out of Demetrius' grip and ran towards the sound.

"No, I told you no! You should listen to your elders! My Little Brat!" He started to chase after her, but was stopped by a she-wolf.

"She's touched in the head. She'll bring us bad luck. Let her run to her death. We've enough grief to deal with."

He grunted his reluctant consent and began to walk slowly onward feeling very troubled to have lost My Little Brat.

Little Brat quickly came up to the sound and saw a land dragon. For a terrifying beast it looked very sad indeed. It wailed again in agony. She stopped just a stone's throw from it when it saw her and stopped to peer down at her warily. Her heart swelled with pity and tears formed in her eyes. She wasn't afraid of it, just felt very sorry for it. It cried out again. The dragon was in pain.

"Hush now, don't cry. It'll be okay. Really. I know you hurt. Let me look at you." She softly spoke.

The dragon settled down and lied on its side grunting in pain from the exertion. A low growling moan escaped it as its head rested on the dirt. Little Brat walked up to it and touched its snout. The dragon sniffed her hand and closed its eyes. It began to whine softly. The whimper of the dragon tore at her heart. She slowly put both hands on the dragon's snout and began to walk and touch the dragon to find out why it was in pain. Finally reaching the hindquarters of the dragon she sensed why it was in distress.

From its rear end she saw blood ooze. It was a female dragon who had started to lay an egg but had been rudely interrupted by some idiot who'd tried to kill her. There was a sword stuck in the lower half of its belly by the birthing canal. The sword penetrated deep into the canal. The egg had ruptured while still on its journey out and the shell was cutting into the passageway. Little Brat cried out. She looked around and saw a dead soldier lying on the ground. Ironically the dragon used the corpse body as a sort of pillow, not wanting to eat, just to rest and wait to die.

I will help you, but you must be patient and careful with me. There are still babies inside you. They will come and push this one out. It can't be saved, but maybe you and the others can. My Little Brat thought to the dragon. The dragon nodded back.

Little Brat looked around on the ground, looking for something. She found a small plant with bluish green leaves that had an appealing scent. Not knowing how she knew, she just knew this plant would help. She crushed several leaves in her hands and then spit into the pulp to make a leafy paste. Breathing deeply to brace herself she walked back to the dragon's hindquarters and eased both hands into the birth canal. The plant immediately began to work its medical magic and the dragon relaxed a bit.

Slowly she removed the sharp edges of the broken egg and then eased her hands out to extract the sword. The numbing effect of the leaves helped, but it was the antiseptic qualities of them that helped the beast most. Grunting hard to carefully remove the sword, Little Brat fell backwards with the hilt in her hands. The sword was too heavy and awkward and fell at her side as she rested for moment on the ground to catch her breath. Then she scrounged around for more of the plant leaves and rubbed its medicine into the sword wound.

The dragon finally knowing relief slept and Little Brat curled up next to it, cursing the stupid man who'd wanted to kill the beautiful beast.

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Demetrius couldn't stop thinking about his Little Brat. He halted and turned to face his pack. "I know you think we should leave My Little Brat to her fate, but I can't. Go on without me. I must find her."

The wolves looked at him and to each of the others. Resolution stole into their hearts and they silently left Demetrius to his own fate as well. Demetrius watched each of them pass him and leave him behind. Breathing in deeply to find her scent he began to track her down. It was almost in the morning's light when he was stunned to find her cuddled up sleeping against a slumbering dragon. This girl has magic to her!

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