Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ When Escaflowne Rescued Trilladen ❯ From Prison to Misery ( Chapter 32 )

From Prison to Misery

Folken sat on the captain's chair of the bridge of the floating fortress come garbage scow. His second in command, Darius, stood by his side as they drifted closer to the outskirts of Zaibach's borders. Folken's mind was racing. He liked Allen and felt a deep sadness for the troubles of his sister. Shame mingled with regret in the knowledge that he too had been a military and political might in the cause of Emperor Dornkirk, and his involvement resulted in a close association with Dillandau, Celena's now out of control alter ego. He wanted to make amends and find answers that only the most evil and greedy men in all of Zaibach knew. Those men are the Sorcerers of Technology-a tired and beaten throw back sect from the days of Dornkirk's reign of terror.

He saw in the distant darkness of night a faint horizon etched in the eerie glow of the city's night-lights illuminating an enormous and smelly capital- Zaibach's capital. The place he had adopted as Strategos, the place where he awoke with a new life and a steel limb so many years ago. He knew he'd put off state matters long enough, but was glad that his absence had proven fruitful. The information he had obtained about this new threat could only help him keep Zaibach all the safer in her plans for defense.

Within a short distance of time the floating fortress was docking at military headquarters and a transport was already standing by to swiftly take Folken to the palace and to hopefully get rest. Lurking in the shadows beyond the sight of all around was Merle, keeping track of her man. He would be greatly displeased to find out, that once again, she stayed with him in his travels aboard the floating fortress.

As Folken and Darius boarded the transport both failed to notice the familiar face of an accomplished stow-away. She delightfully eavesdropped on their private conversation.

"Sir, I wonder how cooperative the council will be when you give them the news of Mugwa's plans." Darius ventured to ask.

"I doubt they will be happy with the news, but we will have to join forces with Fanelia and Asturia if we are to survive. Even Ispania will have to contribute to the survival of Gaea. They cannot idly sit back and watch warriors die for their own freedoms that they enjoy." Folken's mood was once again somber and Darius sensed it.

"Would it have hurt to take the cat woman with you? She seemed quite distressed at your insistence that she leave with Gaddes to their outpost of Vren." Darius dared to ask.

"It is in her best interest that we remain apart. I have a dark past, and a soul blackened by it. She will be safer with Gaddes." Folken softly. Then after a pause he added, "You presume much in bringing up my personal affairs Darius. Is it that obvious?"

"Painfully. She did much to keep your spirits high. Her presence would have been refreshing, I think. And no one is safe these days. I would think you would prefer to see to her protection with Van's disappearance."

"The young chit should stay away from me. I will only hurt her, as I did Naria and Eeria." Sighing Folken remarked on a lighter tone. "You have become a good friend to me these past few years, one I don't deserve. I do not make it a habit to trust, but I think I almost trust you."

In the darkness, Merle's heart fell through the floor. Tears welled up in her eyes and she stubbornly rubbed them away with the back of her hand. Hiding her face in her dress as she crumbled over, she prayed for a way into his life with devotion she didn't quite understand, and didn't trust as much as she had when they first met.

The transport carrier landed at the clearing of the courtyard that led directly to Folken's private wing of the Palace. He stepped off the small aircraft, Darius following. Waiting for them on the lush green lawn were three men draped in black robes with high back collars, along with a small sentry of guards. The one in the center stepped up to Folken with a snide look on his face. It was Folken's old adversary, a sorcerer of technolgy and a dangerous foe. Malachite.

"Welcome home, Strategoes." He sneered.

"What is the meaning of this!" Folken demanded.

"You are under arrest for the assassination of Emperor Dornkirk, of course. Did you think your little ruse to rule all of Zaibach would really succeed? You've made a fatal error, my old friend. You left just when you thought things were settling down and you were safe. Took us years waiting for the right time, but now you will pay for your crimes against the state."

"You fool! Do you really believe this will work?" Folken asked in a deadly voice.

"I have the utmost confidence that I'll be enjoying a toast at your execution." Malachite spoke lightly, a smug grin on his face.

"I doubt that very much, but have your glory moment-while it lasts." Folken stepped up to the sentry guards and looked each one of them in the eyes as they bound him and roughly led him away.

The two other sorcerers stepped up beside Malachite. The skinny one to the right with black eyes, for even his iris were that color, asked in a scratching grating voice, "Shouldn't we arrest his second in command?"

Malachite turned to his ugly friend and nodded. "Let's store them together, that way the one can hear the other's screams when we begin the torture."

Darius unblinking stared the ugly one down. The last sorcerer, a huge man whose face was hidden by the hood of his cloak, looked like an enormous grim reeper. He stepped up to Darius and raised his left hand. A ball of green light formed in his palm and like a ball threw it at Darius. It hit his chest dead center and he fell back hard, unconscious with blood dripping from his left ear.

Merle was trembling. She knew had to calm down and do something but couldn't figure out how to stop shaking. She had witnessed this cui with dread fear for Folken. She almost gave away her presence when those ruffians bound his hands behind his back, but checked herself, her stomach lurching to her throat and her heart pounding too fast.

The courtyard cleared soon thereafter. The sorcerers saw to Darius treating his prostrate form like refuse. He was unceremoniously thrown over a guard's shoulder who was ordered to take him to the dungeon where Folken was. The sorcerers were gone, only Merle, Darius, and the guard remained. Her greatest asset as a cat was stealth and she employed it well as she followed the guard to the dungeon.

Their progress was slow and for the guard quite labored, as Darius was a stalwart muscular warrior. She lurked behind in the shadows, hating the look and feel of Zaibach's palace. The walls were dark stoned and damp. The steel stairway that led downward into a hellishly black dungeon felt cold and slimy against her bare feet. She was noiseless; and he grunting from the strain of Darius' weight, his boots clanged annoyingly hurting her sensitive ears.

Finally the descent was over and the dungeon, though ill lit looked gruesome. Decaying parts of bodies were being pecked away by evil huge gray rats along the walls, as if they had been thrown there absent-mindedly by a grotesque who had grown bored with an old toy. Indeed, there was such a character. He jumped out of the shadows at the guard like a drunken bear, stinking and drooling. without teeth.

"Wha' ya want? Go 'way, or I'll eat ya." The voice of a brutal idiot.

"Stand back, you stinking fowl thing! I have orders to deposit this soldier with Folken.

"Oh, I take ya. Then go 'way. I've work, ya know." The grotesque was large, misshapen with his hairy belly hanging out below his shirt. His breath was rancid, even standing at a distance. His teeth were blackened or plain rotted out. He was a freak fit only for dungeon duty.

The grotesque led the guard down a dank narrow corridor that sloped downward and was slippery. Merle followed further behind, too terrified to hardly breath. Candlelight only exposed the horrors of bugs and creepy things, yet she knew she had to skulk close to the walls for survival's sake. Her skin was crawling as something slithered up her leg. Nearly panic stricken she shook it off, stifling a squeal of terror that came out as a squeak.

Finally the journey stopped up ahead and a loud clang signified a heavy door opening. Folken's voice could be heard, giving Merle courage. "What have you done to Darius, he's innocent in this. I didn't even know him back then!"

"Shuddup, or I'll eat ya." The grotesque retorted slowly.

The shuffling of body weight was quickly met by a thud as the guard dumped Darius on the floor next to Folken and walked out, disgusted to his core at the sites and smells he'd been forced to take in with this last order.

Immediately making his way back up the corridor, Merle quickly unsheathed her claws, swallowed hard and quietly scampered up the wall, clinging to the ceiling, almost hugging it, wetness oozing on her turned cheek to the stone and vines and creeping things. A bug buzzed and clicked close to her ear and her spine tingled like prickling needles so hard it stung from the sensation of needing to bathe. The smelly grotesque lumbered back slowly, mumbling to himself, the guard long gone.

As soon as the corridor was clear, Merle jumped down onto the floor and her stomach lurched. She fiercely rubbed her ears and hair, trying hard to rid herself of the feeling of things crawling all over her. She was unnerved and frazzled by the time she located Folken's door.

He was there, administering to Darius, concerned and angry looking. "Hsst! Folken, hsst! It's me, Merle." She whispered.

He scrambled to his feet and ran up to the hole in the door peering out, not believing his eyes. "Merle? What the… What are you doing here!" He whispered loudly back, clearly angered.

"Ungrateful dog! I am here to save you! I don't know why I love you like I do. You don't treat me very well. No affection these days, no kind words, always avoiding me. I should just leave you here to rot!" She returned.

"Yes! You should get out of here! Before it's too late and they catch you! This is too dangerous of a place for you! Go! Now!"

Grinding her teeth, wishing she could use him as a scratching post, she replied, "Not without you!"

"I couldn't leave now anyway-not that you can get this door unlocked. Darius has been struck hard. He's unconscious, and I can't very well carry him to freedom the whole way as well as you!"

"That ugly monster has the keys hanging from his belt. I'll have to wait until he's asleep to steal them. You be patient and rouse Darius if you can." She instructed him.

"No! Get away while you can! You shouldn't stay here. I don't want you here with me!" Merle's heart was pounding from the pain.

Quietly she asked him, "Did it hurt like this? When you found that I had tricked you and stowed away, did it hurt this much?"

Her question tore at his heart. Strength seeping from his body, he leaned forward, closer to the opening in the door until his forehead was touching the wood. "Yes." He confessed.

"Then you love me, don't you?" She asked softly but hopefully.

"No, I don't. Not anymore. I know now that there's no room for you and you can do better than me, Merle." He lied as convincingly as he could.

"If I died tonight, trying to save you, you wouldn't care?" She ventured.

Forgetting himself, he slammed his fist into the door and yelled. "Dammit!"

They both hushed and waited. Nothing.

"Because that's what's happening right now. I'm dying inside. Wanting you and loving you and trying desperately hard to keep believing in you. Those words are killing me." She ended in despair, tears falling, voice thick with emotion. She sobbed quietly: her forehead leaned on the wood of the door, her hand resting against it, barely holding her up.

"I love you. I will love you even if you hate me. I can't seem to stop it, though I wish I could. You don't have a choice in who you love apparently, because I can't seem to decide not to care if you're alive or dead. When you would walk by talking to your men and I would pass you in the hallway, you wouldn't even look up to greet me with your eyes. It would stab away at my heart until I couldn't breath, wanting just one look from you. Why are you trying to kill my spirit? Why don't you care? Why don't you realize it's you that's destroying me-not letting me in like you did at first?" She ended.

"I want you to save yourself! Don't take risks on my account! I'll be all right. You leave now. I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you because of me. Go." He intoned in a numb voice, the pain eating away his soul.

She put her hand through the opening of the door and opened the palm of her hand. "Hold my hand when you tell me you don't love me. I want to feel it as well as hear it, and then I'll leave you." She said.

Trying desperately to steal himself he grasped hold of her hand in both of his. The electricity that ran through them left a trail of heat that racked their bodies. Breathing heavily he prayed for strength hoping he was doing the right thing, wanting her safety more than anything. He pressed her hand against his chest, holding hers firmly in both of his. He almost weakened when her finger tips softly caressed him. Breathing in deeply to calm himself, he finally answered her.

"I don't love you, Merle. You reminded me of Naria and Eeria and I miss them. That's all. They died serving me. Do you wish to do the same?" His heart beat hard in his chest. So did hers. The words cut her to the quick. She would leave him to his fate and try to get to safety.

"I believe you. I'll go now." She said meekly and slowly retrieved her hand. He watched her hand disappear to the other side and almost relented but stopped himself. She would get to safety-that's all that mattered. And so he held his breath and waited for her retreat.

It didn't come quickly. She walked a few steps up the narrow, uncaring now of the crawling things. She stopped in her tracks, heaving with emotion. She wanted to set him free, if for no other reason than to scratch his face bloody raw until he hurt the way she does. A hardness formed in her gaze with determination. She walked with a purpose and courage she hadn't possessed before. Chin up, she walked up the corridor to the mouth of it into the main chamber of the dungeon where Mr. Ugly was. Sighting him, she stood still, in the darkness and waited for him to settle down for the evening.

Hours later he had. Snoring couldn't quite describe Mr. Ugly's sleep sounds. Creepy moaning and grunting accompanied by growls and half mumbled jumbo while even more drool oozed down his throat, making his too small shirt wet with stink was the sight that Merle was rewarded with for the waiting. As she crept slowly up to him, bent close to the floor, the stronger his fecal stench became, making her sick to her stomach. Her senses heightened by the rush of adrenaline didn't aid her catlike sensitivity to smell and sound in this circumstance. She was about to hurl stomach bile and had to stop and cover her face in her dress.

Calming her nerves and stomach she slowly began her progress again. Spying the keys on the other side of his wide belly and secured snuggly on his belt, she crept closer and slowly reached over holding her breath. What seemed like an eternity turned into an urgent nightmare. If she breathed she would smell and then she would gag and Mr. Ugly would wake up. But her face was almost ready to turn blew. Afraid she would pass out she chanced a quick retrieval and the keys only clinked once at her grasp. He rustled and she stood still, eyes tearing up.

Slowly she turned around and crept back, weak with her need to breath, but fearing it's sound would wake him. Finally far enough away she strictly schooled herself into taking slow deep breaths as quietly as she could while still moving quietly away from him. Almost to the mouth of the corridor she straightened up and walked with speed to its opening. Back down the dank narrow passage she went until she came to Folken's prison cell.

Slowly she put the key into the hole and turned trying not to produce the same clanging sound that took place before. Not so. She had no choice but to carry out her intent and she opened the door. Folken and Darius were leaning against each other back to back for support so as not to touch their heads to the floor or walls, which smelled like sewage. He looked up and saw Merle.

"Merle! What are you doing here? You should've left!" He whispered hoarsely.

"I will now that I've given you a chance to escape. Hurry up before that awful man wakes up!" She hissed.

Carefully rousing Darius whose head was on fire he ambled with his beleaguered second and made his way to the door. She backed out ahead of him and into Mr. Ugly's waiting hold.

"Pretty, pretty!" He laughed and pressed his mouth to her neck.

She screamed and Folken reacted with lightening. He left Darius to stand on his own feet and raced over and grabbed the man's head away from Merle, in a rage that he touched her. He twisted the man's head fast and a sickening crack followed suit. Mr. Ugly's head had snapped in Folken's rage attack against him. The stinking man slumped threatening to drag Merle down with him, she whimpered and Folken grabbed her and pulled her out of the grasp of the dead man's hold.

She sunk into his chest gagging and crying, pounding his chest hard with hurt and hate. He shook her hard to gain her attention.

"Get a hold of yourself. We have to escape." He ordered.

"I hate you. With all my heart I swear I hate you." She spat venomously.

Folken's chest sank in as air quickly left his lungs. Remembering himself and their dire circumstance he straightened his shoulders back and said, "That's fine with me. Now move."

He went back for Darius and the three made good there escape. Folken was sickened by what he'd seen. In his absence Zaibach's government ad reverted back to a barbaric resemblance of what he'd tried to kill when he slew Dornkirk. Now seeing the dungeon, knowing in his heart that most of the bodies littering the chamber were probably political prisoners and his supporters, he vowed to return and see to justice after winning peace against Mugwa.

He kept his mind on the troubles of his adopted country instead of Merle. He had much to do and she was not going to be there anymore. After today there could be no doubt of that. His heart ached with a pain that he knew would never go away for as long as he lived. She was his better half, more himself than he, for in her sweetness and purity she had retained what was once so good in the Folken that went off once to slay a dragon.

They quickly and quietly made their way to the outskirts of the capital. Spying the floating fortress and knowing he must leave with it and the men inside that were loyal to him he formed a plan. This might just work, thanks to the cat girl who would never look upon him with tenderness again.