28-Feb-2002
Twisted Fortune - An Escaflowne Fanfiction
By Bonnejeanne and Nixers
Contact: bonnejeanne@yahoo.com and nixerchan@aol.com
Warnings: Spoilers
Notes: Set a little over one year after Vision of Escaflowne's end.
Chapter Thirteen - Revolution and Revelation (cont)
Part 28
Van finished cleansing his upper body and ignored Allen's glance at the scratch across his chest that looked as if had been just done with a sharp blade. Rather that put on the stained shirt, Van took a strip of cloth and bound it in a cursory fashion around his chest, ran his hands through his hair and finally sat on the wide couch.
The food on the small table sent appetizing scents into the room, but Van ignored them in favor of a few minutes of rest and returned the gaze of the blond swordsman.
Allen had settled into what had become 'his' chair, watching the king with fingers entwined and tented. The two regarded each other in silence for a short while. Then Allen said quietly, "Tell me about Basram."
Van blinked, and then nodded but said, "I'll wait for Dryden on that." He tilted his head. "Is that really what you want to know?"
The older man grimaced slightly. "Part of it. I have my own sources of news. I was... surprised to see Serena with you. Pleased, by the gods, happy, but surprised."
The king looked down for a moment and then back up. "I was surprised as well."
He left it at that and the silence stretched out as the two men contemplated their private thoughts, and each other.
The heavy silence of the room allowed for the sound of footsteps to herald the door opening without other warning. Dryden stepped into the room, his eyes quickly noted the water, so out of place in the surroundings and the uneaten food. Breaking the quiet that had held the room Dryden commented over his shoulder to Van as he walked towards the desk.
"I'd suggest giving at least the pretense of eating. I've found your sister quite persistent in enforcing that," he said offhandedly, easily taking his accustomed place in the chair at the desk. He'd not lost much of the tension that had been present during Van's absence or in the courtyard, but it seemed to have eased.
Van looked at the tall man with unmasked affection. "I will. When Serena gets here." It was said in a tone not unlike, "I'll breathe when there's air.' "You have something on your mind, Dryden."
"Several somethings I fear. Things haven't been quiet, even the dragons seemed to protest your 'departure,'" he said, not waiting for a reply to that piece of news. He knew there were going to be questions but... "I first, though, have a request of both of you."
Allen turned his attention to the merchant.
"What is it?" Van asked.
The merchant frowned slightly. "I can't persuade you to stay," he said with surety. "But if you are determined. Don't take Escaflowne. I would request of Allen the use of the Crusade II," he said, as much as asked, nodding to Allen as he mentioned his request of the Knight.
Allen answered first. "Of course," he said. "But why?"
Van stayed silent, letting the blond man's question stand.
Dryden fished a paper from his desk, staring down at it with unconcealed trouble. "This is translated from a text considered to be 10,000 years old, almost the same age as Fanelia. It was remarkably well preserved, Altantian magic works its wonders... I've tried rephrasing, rereading and alternate translation, but it keeps saying the same thing each time." Without any other explanation he handed the inked sheet to Allen, who happened to be closest. "There have been other events that seem to back this up in the past week..."
Allen scanned the document quickly, stopped, reread it, looked at Dryden and then looked at Van. Without comment, his expression crystallizing into a mask, he handed the paper to Van.
The king took the document and read it carefully. He didn't go back and reread anything. He simply let his hand with the paper rest on the couch, his eyes unfocusing for a moment.
"Ask your mother," he said softly, as if quoting something he'd heard. "Folken... brother why... why did you go when I need you so much?" After a moment he looked up, turned to Dryden and shrugged slightly, his old stoicism stealing into his features. "It's done. I can't leave her, I need her."
Dryden inwardly frowned at the possessive and engendering words. "The only thing that is *done* is death," he said, his concern that had been tempered carefully in the past few days finally surfacing and making the words harsher than he intended. "As long as there is possibility of a means of undoing it, I will find it hard to watch something entangle you further, my friend."
Van gave Dryden a troubled glance. "When we leave, we're going back to Zaibach. I need her."
"In a formal expedition north, it would be significantly harder for the same 'misunderstanding' to occur," Dryden argued quietly.
Van got up, leaving the paper on the couch. He paced in what space was there. "You don't understand. The sorcerers... there have other prisoners, other subjects. Adelphos has agreed to free them but if he rescinds, or if there is resistance... I *need* her. I can't take a chance of leaving this unfinished."
At the mention of sorcerers, Allen's eyes flashed. "With or without Escaflowne, I'm coming then."
Dryden shook his head, clearly not approving, but the collective stubbornness of both men should have stopped the stampede of dragons. "Then at least leave... her... until there is no other option?" he asked with the air of one who is bargaining for the least unpleasant fate.
Van looked troubled and avoided refusing by simply not answering. He reached up absently and brushed the back of his hand across his blistered cheek, then rubbed it, before dropping his hand. He turned to Dryden.
"I can't give back the dragon's life I took," he said quietly. "Though I've wanted to more than once. All I can do is trust... that it will lend me its strength if I... if we... need to be stopped."
Dryden couldn't find an answer to that. It was a call for faith and probably didn't have an answer. He was spared any expectancy of one by a sharp knock on the door before it opened, Serena, followed by Merle entering the small room. Not picking up the atmosphere immediately, the girl sat happily next to Van looking refreshed. She smiled, finding her brother's eyes instantly.
"Hey brother-mine. They have some great bath stuff here, better than the soaps that the merchants always push. You might want to bri...." she trailed off, looking around. "Bad timing?"
Dryden shook his head with a half smile tugging his lips. "My lady, there is no time that could not bear the grace of your presence," he said, the duck of his head replacing the courtly bow.
"Un huh," she replied with a playful doubt in the mumbled reply. She frowned a second shifting as she realized that her seat had crinkled when she'd taken it. She stool a second to pick up the paper resting there.
Merle ignored or appeared to ignore the conversation and pushed a shirt at Van, frowning at the cloth around his chest. He reached up and scratched behind her ears affectionately, and she permitted it, then made a "hmmph" sound and backed away. She went over to the table and began filling plates of food and shoving them at people in the room almost at random.
Allen watched Serena, tapping a finger absently against his closed mouth.
Van watched her with something deep and warm in his eyes, but did not try and take the paper away. He unconsciously brushed his hand against his cheek again. It seemed to itch and tingle.
She accepted her own plate with an absent smile of thanks to Merle. Unconscious of the eyes on her, she scanned the document, with mild interest. She frowned slightly around the food she nibbled on before declaring, "I knew I didn't like that melef for a reason." She scanned the last paragraph before putting it aside. "But it could be worse it seems."
"Hmmm?" Van made an inquiring noise as he obediently took a plate and began eating without paying any attention to what went into his mouth.
Pickily, her fingers found the choicer bits of the meal she'd been given. Serena shrugged. "Sounds like the Draconians have it worse."
Van tilted his head, and then nodded, remembering. "My mother was Draconian," he said quietly.
The morsel stopped halfway to her mouth as she glanced at Van out of the corner of her eyes. Seeing the seriousness there, she turned more fully, searching for a sign of it being another flare of Van's odd sense of humor, even as her mind argued that he wouldn't be so cruel. With a deliberate and fragile slowness, she put the food back on the plate and picked up the paper again, rereading with an intensity. What could be passed off as a trick of the light manifested in the briefest of flicker of red in her blue eyes as she finished the last paragraph again.
"You're not... going to still use that thing are you?" she asked, instinctively knowing the answer. It would be like telling the boy in her dreams not to go look for the red guymelef he'd called an Alseides.
Calmly, Van said, "Just because Dryden found an old writing, nothing has really changed. We'll finish what we have to do. Then she sleeps. But she'll never have another energist when the one I took is gone, that I'll make sure of."
She nodded slowly, looking at Van with a sort of disconnected concern. "Why do I get the feeling it's not going to be as easy as it sounds." Serena sighed and folded the paper, looking from Van to her brother and back for reassurance.
Van could only gently stroke his fingertips along the back of her hand. Then he dropped his eyes and smiled ever so slightly, unused to showing affection of this nature in front of others.
Allen smiled slightly at Serena, giving her a reassuring big-brother look. "We'll make sure it stays easy," he said firmly.
She nodded at Allen, gratitude showing even as she wrapped her hand around Van's.
It was Dryden who broke the moment, reluctantly, with a question. "How long will this take?"
Van looked up. "I don't know. But I think not long. A day?"
Serena shook her head slightly, having resumed picking at the meal in front of her. "A little longer, we need to make a detour," she added.
Van looked at her and then nodded. "All right then."
Dryden looked at the Schezar girl with a bit of curiosity. "A detour?"
She nodded. "To get my guymelef," she frowned slightly then shrugged. "Van knows where it is, but it's a little out of the way."
"We'll manage," Van said immediately. "I left something there as well," he added but refrained from giving any details.
Allen listened to this exchange and frowned thoughtfully. He had an idea of where they were talking of going.
"Crusade can take you anywhere," he said.
Van shook his head. "We can go faster without. But it might be a good idea to go to Zaibach, where we can meet you."
Allen's frown became a scowl. He held it, not giving up, just biding his time. He turned to his sister. "And... 'your' guymelef?" he asked, his tone deliberately lighter than might have been expected, indicating only curiosity.
Serena nodded without hesitation. "In a sense," she said. She hesitated a moment, looking as if she was going to say more, but instead looked back down to her meal.
Van gave Allen a very direct, 'she wants it, she gets it' look and the swordsman suppressed any number of things he wanted to express in return.
"Hmmm," was all he allowed himself.
Serena looked up at the slight noise, her expression unreadable as she met her sibling's eyes. "You are all right with this, oniisan?" she asked.
He laughed, a little harshly but softened with a shrug. "No," he said. "But it's not my decision, is it?"
She smiled at his roundabout allowance of the decision to exist for her, even if it had a great deal to do with the silent boy at her side. She didn't answer the question, just put aside the dish. "Thank you," she said, instead.
Allen's look softened a little more. He answered by inclining his head just a bit.
Silent to this point, Dryden moved and took both the paper and the dish from Serena's side. The former deposited on the disheveled surface of the desk and the latter remained in hand as he moved towards the door. "The smith said the work would be complete by dinner..." The sentence trailed off as whatever was going to be said became a mental monolog. Hand on the doorframe, he instead turned to Van. "It's good to have you back, but better, I suspect, on your next homecoming."
Van looked with some concern at the scholar but found he couldn't quite find words to express his feeling or ask the other for his own status. He rubbed at his cheek a last time, not noticing that his fingers slid across smooth skin this time. "He's already begun," he said absently. He looked around the room a little blankly. "If... I think I'm going to rest in my room a while. If you need me..."
Dryden had paused at the first declaration, and nodded without turning at the second, unsure who it was meant for, but making a note all the same of it. With a waving gesture over one shoulder, he departed down the hall, intending to stop at the kitchen before finding the same comfortable spot where not long ago, he and Merle had waited for dragons.
Serena had looked at Van and nodded. "I'm going to stay a bit longer," she said, her eyes finding her brother's for a moment.
Van nodded, slowly loosening his fingers from hers. He noted that Merle had exited all but on Dryden's heels, after exchanging a look with him. He paused, a bare moment as he stood and before her fingers completely disengaged from his, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her palm in a brief, gentle gesture. Then he smiled slightly for her and moved gracefully out of the room, leaving the two siblings alone.
Serena's eyes tracked his passage and watched the door a moment longer, before she stood up and walked to Allen's chair. She caught his hand and tugged on it, glancing in the direction of the couch. "Please?" she asked, "Across from me will feel like an interrogation."
Allen stood and hugged her briefly, then sat on the couch. "Are you so sure I'm going to ask you a lot of questions, then?"
"No," she said, taking the spot next to him. "I was just going to offer what answers I could.... there's a lot I don't remember yet though."
Allen watched her, allowing his concern to reach his face. "A lot... but you do remember some." He took a breath and nodded. His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment and he said quietly, "Serena... I... I didn't want to face some things. I'm not sure how to face them even now. You may not believe this but even when you were a small girl, I felt you were, you could be, stronger than I was."
She listened quietly for a moment. "Things.. them... you can just say 'him' if you like," she said quietly. "I know that much now."
Allen lifted his eyes and looked at her, blue eyes wide and clear, and filled with a deep aching and almost incomprehension. "I don't know how... I can't... put the two of you together in my mind... I can't."
"You might have to," she said after some hesitation. "Where we are going.... if it comes down to battle, I won't be useless, and he won't be complacent," she said, her brief experience with the boy, with the other half, had at least made that evident.
Several things passed over Allen's face rapidly, and then he moved swiftly, and she found him on one knee in front of her, taking her hand.
"I'd give my life for yours," he said in a low voice. "For... even for his. Once I knew. Don't be afraid of me, Serena. I'll do whatever I have to, for you."
"I don't want your life oniisan," she said the last with fondness but conviction. "To use your own phrase, You may not believe this, but I no more want to lose you than you wanted to lose me." She squeeze his hand tightly. "I understand.... a bit better now... why you did everything. I haven't gotten.. over it yet, but I understand."
Allen frowned slightly at her last words. His lips pressed together but he stayed silently, finally nodding. He looked at her for a long time, then said, "I haven't gotten over it yet either. But I *am* trying to understand, Serena. I am."
A look of genuine gratitude flashed over her face again. With a start she seemed to remember something. With almost a bit of reverence, she fished the chain from her tunic and pulled the jewelry over her head and let it pool in one palm. She held the red pendant out for Allen's inspection. "I think I found something out, and your memories might be sharper. Do you recognize this?"
Allen stared at the pendent, realizing he hadn't seen it on Van when the boy removed his shirt. He nodded. "Yes, Serena. I know it... well."
"Hers," she said, not feeling the need to clarify who *she* was. "But before that, her grandmothers, and before that..."
Allen nodded. "Yes. Father's. It was mother's, actually. She gave it to him when he began going on his... quests. It was supposed to keep him safe. Then he didn't... that last time, he never came back. But I have his diary, Serena. It's yours if you want it."
"I'd like that," she replied quietly. She smiled, breaking up the somber mood she'd fallen into in another flash. "It would have been ours, maybe should have been, if things hadn't gotten all twisted. It's important and powerful I think; I feel it now and then. To keep him safe, he might have come home if he'd kept it..." she said quietly. "A lot of things might be different maybe." She glanced at the stone, not meeting her brother's eyes. "You don't want me to be scared of you, you said. That's all I want, the reverse."
Allen's eyes had flashed, narrowed and widened as she spoke, and as thoughts flew through his mind almost to fast to catch. He snapped back to her at the last and placed his hands around hers, then lifted the chain carefully and put it over her head and back around her neck. He lifted her face with a gentle touch under her chin. "Yours. It would have been yours," he said. Then, "I won't be afraid of you any more, Serena. I swear it."
She nodded, still a moment before impulsively wrapping the swordsman up in another hug, somehow warmer than even the one she'd welcomed him with in the courtyard.
Allen held his sister tightly, rocking her for a moment before loosening his hold with some reluctance, and wiping at his face, smiling at her. "All right then," he said. "It's a start."
She nodded, felt against him more than seen, she pulled back a bit, a hand still lingering on his arm. She stayed silent a moment before a thought flashed behind her eyes followed closely by a mischievous look. "Anywhere closer to sword lessons?" she asked, half teasingly.
He returned her smile with a somewhat rakish one of his own, something more familiar to the ladies of Asturia than to Serena. "You still think you need them?" He shrugged. "I suppose so, then. Can't have Fanel mistreating you..."
She grinned fully at that. "Haven't tried yet, but there's got to be some talent hiding somewhere. Of course, I'd have to require the best teacher," she said the last with pointed innocence, batting her eyes coquettishly.
Allen rolled his eyes and stood up, pulling her to her feet. "See me after this is moderately calmed down," he said simply.
Serena smiled happily at that. "You've got it."
Allen shook his head with a touch of affectionate exasperation. His eyes became more serious. He reached over and gently brushed back strands of her sandy curls. Then he dropped his hand and said, in a normal enough tone, "I'm going back to the Crusade to brief my men. They deserve to know what's going on. And then we'll be preparing for a trip, it seems." He hesitated. "You'd be welcome to come with me..."
She fingered the hem of her shirt distractedly. "I know..... could you apologize to Gaddes for me for his face again? He is better I hope. I know it wasn't much..." She trailed off, her monologue covering her reluctance to answer.
Allen nodded. "I will. Or you can yourself, when you have time. But he's quite healed up, you know," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. "He'd consider it unmanly to remark on anything that didn't cause the loss of a tooth or at least a decent scar..."
"Never understood why some men wear scars like badges," she smiled a bit at that. "I'll figure it out someday." She hesitated. "If you can convince Van, I will, but he'll need me if he goes alone." The tone had a quiet conviction, and gave the impression of an addenda: 'and I need him.'
Allen grimaced slightly. He shook his head. "If he means to go into Basram to... collect, em, 'your' Alseides, I can't. That exceeds the bounds of what even I can get away with in the current political climate. I can go to Zaibach at the request of Van or the Regent, on Fanelia's behalf, but Basram, no. They've insisted on a very strict border policy since the end of the Fate Wars, and I have no authority to endanger Asturia's alliances by testing it."
She nodded slowly, her brows drawn together slightly. "I've heard as much. I'm still not clear on how Van is going to do this either."
Allen smiled wryly. "He'll do it like Van... probably fly in on Escaflowne and do what he likes, then leave. The ironic thing is, he'd act just the same whether he were a king or simply a headstrong boy from no where."
She quirked a grin at that. "Can't he be both?"
Allen sighed. "It's certainly not for me to say." He put her arms around Serena's shoulders in a quick embrace. "Be... careful... little sister."
She gave him a kiss on the cheek and returned the embrace warmly. "I have good company." She looked down quickly before meeting her brothers gaze again. "So... we'll meet again in Zaibach?"
Closing his eyes for a moment, he opened them again and nodded. "If I don't see you before you leave."
"I'll see about wandering by beforehand," she said amiably. "It's been too long since I've properly terrorized the boys. Who's the new boy though?"
This time something dangerous did flash in her brother's blue eyes. "I mean to find out," he said cryptically. Stepping back from her, he touched her shoulder one last time and then turned with a decisive stride and left the study.
She watched her brother leave with a raised eyebrow, sensing from long practice something at least interesting. More resolved in that visit with the temptation of a mystery, she took to the halls herself. But the destination was the personal quarters, Van's in particular.
Dryden found the spot he was seeking, under the shelter of the trees. Though the dragons' passage had rearranged things a little, cleared it out so to speak, the living vegetation had rebounded as it will, and the soft green underbrush looked barely the worse for wear, springing back up with the sun and dew of successive days and nights.
Dryden stopped in front of the tree whose roots had formed such a seat, and ran his finger along the deep gouge in the still living tree. The lash of the tail had come a bit too close there. Still living, the tree would bear the mark of a dragon's touch for centuries maybe.
He settled himself into that nest of roots, tilting his head upwards and against the truck. He watched the lazy sway of the canopy, enjoying the simplicity of that, something untouched by the complexities of life flowing on within the city.
It was easy to drift, so it would have been hard to say how much later he let his eyes drop, without registering for a moment what they saw. After a moment he realized that there was a still figure sitting, tail curled around paws, at the edge of the tiny hollow, watching him with unblinking gold eyes as if she'd always been there.
As welcome a sight the girl was to him, even now, it involuntarily reminded him of the duty he had walked away from, however temporarily. He smiled at her sitting up a little. "Merle-chan," he greeted. "Something the matter?"
She stretched instead of answering and came over, not touching but sitting in front of him.
"Is it?" she asked in return.
The man considered and discarded several answers before folding his hands together on his lap and leaning back again. "Nothing that can be solved by worrying."
"So why are you?" the catgirl said, her unblinking eyes confronting him gently.
He seemed to consider that seriously for a long while. It was several minutes under that golden gaze that he finally began to answer. "There's never been a time when I wasn't faced with something, that if I couldn't solve, I couldn't just go wandering again, and come back to it when my life had revealed some other angle or approach. I find that I don't want to walk away from this," he said, then shook his head. "So I pass the time by worrying." The last was spoken with an edged humor.
Merle tilted her head slightly. "You ran away from Van-sama."
He didn't deny that, just closed his eyes. "He's wrong you know. Something *had* changed, and it happened before I had found that passage."
"What changed, Dryden-sama?" she asked softly.
"It's too real to him now. Escaflowne. When he talks about it, something is there, in his voice. He may be right, he may feel as if he needs it. I simply want to know why."
Merle listened carefully and her gaze turned inward for a few moments. Then she blinked and focused on him again.
"His blood is in it," she said softly. She shook her head. "You can't break that. Only one thing could do that, break a bond of blood."
"No," Dryden said, shaking his head. "His blood, if the texts were followed correctly when he made the bond, is in the energist. He took the energist out today, but his wounds still healed."
Merle shrugged, untroubled by the intellectual concept. "Maybe it swallows some when the energist goes in." She shrugged. "It's still the same problem. He was always promised to Escaflowne, since Folken failed."
He opened his eyes again, the emotions behind them troubled. "Promised to.. makes it sounds like he was a sacrifice."
Merle nodded sadly. "You can't break it. Only one who can."
"Van," he guessed. "That is my real worry, everything aside. That he won't want to."
Merle shook her head. "No, stupid," she said with a touch of deep affection even in the serious circumstances. "Not Van. Her."
He stared at Merle a moment, before comprehension dawned visibly with a half smile. "Yes, that would be the one thing stronger than blood. History likes to prove that."
Merle nodded. She smiled very slightly and then leaned forward and licked his cheek. Then she moved back and turned to leave the little hollow.
Dryden didn't move to stop her, but instead pushed himself to his feet and brushed his clothes of the leaves and moss that had accumulated on the roots. Without a word, he joined her, naturally slowing his pace.
Merle didn't make any comment but a tiny bit of spring returned to her step as they crossed the grassy clearing between the woods and the castle. And behind them, watching silently from the deeper shadows just beyond the little hollow, a gold eye closed and opened.
Allen appeared in the clearing below the Crusade, not going to the ladder up, but tilting his head to look at the airship.
"Kaerin!" he called.
The call was repeated, passed along. A few moments later, the Third Knight appeared at the railings, leaning over. "Allen?" he asked, polite curiosity audible even at the distance.
"Are you girded? Of course you are. Come down! I feel quite relieved after the morning's events and it occurs to me I haven't had much time for practice. Time to get rid of some of the cobwebs," Allen called back, his voice even in timbre and pleasant in tone. Kaerin did not catch the extremely subtle nuance detected by the crew, however. Each one in earshot who heard it felt a sudden chill.
The other Knight nodded and swung himself down with an ease now borne of practice and familiarity with the ship. He bowed to Allen quickly. "It would be my honor. Though I doubt one of my rank could be much sport for you."
Allen bowed ever so slightly. "I don't unsheathe in sport, Kaerin. Practice can not be considered sport, it can be quite deadly serious in its own fashion, don't you agree?" All was delivered in the most amiable of melodious tones.
This caused the briefest of reaction in the brown haired man, merely a flash of the eyes. "Of course, as I understand, those without control may bridge that fine line between practice and combat."
Allen smiled, one of the smiles that sent Asturian ladies swooning. He swept out his sword and lifted it in a graceful salute of full measure.
"Fortunately that will not be a problem between us, will it?" he answered lightly.
The other drew his sword returning the salute, offering full respect with the gesture. "I should hope not." He stepped back and held the sword even, watching the blond swordsman. Between Allen's comments and the watchful eyes of Gaddes and Teo earlier. He rested on his heels, waiting for the other to make the first move, a canny watchfulness now in the Knight's eyes.
Allen nodded slightly and obligingly stepped forward, taking a first attack. It was hardly that, clearly he was merely fencing, and doing so with moves that were lightning fast and amazingly, almost uncannily smooth, but it was nothing like the match with Van in the tournament. There was no heat, only speed and sure, flawless movement.
Still, Kaerin felt there was something there, echoing the tournament fight. It was coiled and waiting for a misstep. Kaerin could detect no such reluctance that had most likely saved his life in the arena.
He worked his own blade, his mind readily supplying the counters for the traditional fencing. The heavier sword and the sheer adeptness that the swordsman held unbalanced it against the other Knight as he struggled to keep his own blade between his and Allen's. He ducked gracefully under a light slash, taking an instant to back up and regain his footing.
In the next engagement, the misstep came, but instead of the bite he was half expecting, he felt only a light touch along a momentarily unprotected side, then Allen stepped back, giving him time to recover, then stepping up again. This time the pace increased, the move faster, the thrusts and parry coming a bit quicker, and again, an error, and a light touch, a breath to recovered, and reengage. And the pace increased a little more.
Kaerin had no time for more thoughts or musings, as each bout increased, as each tap, indicating a blooding or what would have been a mortal wound. His entire concentration was focused, narrowed so deeply into combat that the world expanded. It lent itself a surreal air, information of aching muscles, ragged breathing, sweat soaked bangs, all occurred, but disappeared, pushed aside by the sweep and contact of his sword.
Each round, he was slowing, worn down strike by strike, each parry resounding through his arms and back, weakening his grip along the hilt, while his opponent was only gaining speed and accuracy.
Flinching to himself, he stepped back again, not waiting for his own misstep to break the match. He held his sword low, tip to the ground in surrender.
Allen stepped back instantly, bowing, hardly seeming to breath any more deeply than when the match began. "You see, Kaerin? No problems with control. I hope you are reassured."
Kaerin's free hand pushed his bangs out of his face. The hand that did it trembled slightly from the sudden relaxing of abused muscles. He endeavored to smile around his struggles for oxygen. He held himself a little straighter, regaining his dignity. "My only concern would be the need for reassurance." He glanced at the First Heavenly Knight, and sheathed his blade. "Though I daresay you have few cobwebs to clear. Your style is superb, I can only hope to have learned from it," he said, the exhaustion taking from it any coloring of tone it might have had for Allen.
Allen smiled and shook his head. "Premature. We're not done, Kaerin."
Kaerin looked up again, the same uneasiness returning. "I'm afraid I will have to cede before I've even drawn again, sir. I haven't in me another such practice."
Allen continued to stand, blade naked and only momentarily at rest. "How many times did I kill you, Kaerin?"
The other knight flinched, but ducked his head, unable, by honor to avoid the question. "Three mortal, two would have required attention, and five glances."
Allen nodded. "Control is such a tricky thing. The next round, each touch will bite but an inch. The round after that, two. You get the idea. Unless you would be interested in answering a question for me, without the need for interrogation? A simple question, no confusion, no avoidance, just an answer."
"I will of course answer what question I can," Kaerin said, glancing at the blade still ready in the Knight's hand. "But whatever misunderstanding that has led to this.. swordplay... I must wonder if any answer I give could satisfy."
"I daresay we'll both find out, then," Allen said, his tone pleasant, and his blue eyes far colder than the steel in his hand.
"Why are you here, Kaerin Tomant? Satisfy me with your answer, or draw again."
"I have answered that as fully as I may. I am to deliver a message to the King of Fanelia from my sister, and to satisfy my own curiosity." Kaerin replied quietly, his own gaze harder now, losing the brittle cool of politeness in their determination. His hand had not touched the hilt of his own blade, but it stayed ready.
Allen's eyes narrowed. "An obligation of honor?" he inquired, as heartbeats ticked by.
The man opposite Allen nodded. "Of honor and family. They are of equal importance to me."
"Then you will understand two things, my Heavenly Knight," Allen said, his tone continuing low and pleasant with no subterfuge, he hardly needed harshness to deliver the message. "One is that I will not permit your duty of honor to compromise my own. Two is that, if you do not confide in me more fully, you will lose any possibility of discharging yours."
"As until now," Kaerin began, voice stronger as his breath and balance were regained. "You have shown me but service and generosity, I would not offend the first. But the second." He stopped and smiled slightly. "I would appreciate if you must, a death with honor, not the play of a cat you had done with me."
"You received what you have delivered," Allen returned. "Had your intentions been as stainless as you imply, you'd have taken other transport without involving me. You seem to expect trust, Third Knight. In war we learn that the conventions of honor may be swept aside and justified afterwards. After what I have lived through, I will not take such chances with those I love. It is you who are playing, young Knight. With no appreciation for how many transgressions have already been allowed."
Kaerin shook his head, eyes darkening from the insults implied. "My only transgression has been silence. If a wish for privacy of ones own life and pains offends your own, I will take my leave. Whatever you have imagined is my sundry duty, you may rest knowing this villain you perceive has no further connection to your name." He turned sharply at that, straightening the tangles of his uniform that had knotted themselves in combat, and made to follow on his words.
"Hold," Allen said simply.
The Knight stopped more of habit than of desire. He half turned to look at Allen over one shoulder.
"We're not done."
"I have no more to say. My leave, or my life, if you are so thirsted."
"You've little imagination," Allen said, his lip twitching slightly. "Did I abhor the bloodshed, I'd have you bound and thrown in the Crusade's hold, and ship you back to Pallas. Then you may start your quest anew, this time *truly* without infringing on my honor and name. Does that suit you better, silent one?"
"What suits me seems no longer an option." Kaerin met the other's gaze evenly. "Tell me, you with such imagination. What am I being accused of?"
"Nothing," Allen said. "Not a single thing. Wait, no, one thing. Misjudgment. Misjudging the value I place on my loved ones. And I have less imagination than you suppose. It takes little. However unlikely the possibility that you might intend harm, you misjudge my willingness to entertain it. Recalculate. I've not accused, simply asked you. And demonstrated my seriousness. If my situation allowed me to give you the latitude you seem to expect by right, I daresay I'd do it. It is time to acknowledge the depth of the waters you are swimming in. This is no whim or sudden fancy of mine. Your expressions of insult may be genuine but they have no meaning here, where we are puppets playing Gaea's drama to ends which take no notice of the frailties of human wants or needs."
"Forgive me sir, if I find it hard to believe that a man will deliver the sting of steel and the threat of blood to follow, only upon the 'misjudgment' of another want for speed. And it was you who spoke the first in Pallas, telling nothing with no intention of giving more. I cannot be selfless in the face of what trust you demand of me."
Allen sheathed his sword, his brows drawing together in a pained scowl. "Very well. This compromise only I'll make with you. I'll break my silence fully and completely, here and now, but if you fail to return the same, the rest will fall as it must."
"I have no option, but I will comply. It seems the only way to mend this dilemma."
The area was clear enough of other ears save for those of the crew, and Allen had no illusions about their knowledge of the entire story to a man.
"My sister was taken, as a child," he said, his voice low and almost devoid of emotion. "She returned once, in the midst of the Fate Wars, and before my eyes changed into another. I learned the truth - she'd been taken by Zaibach sorcerers and taken through some unnatural procedure, that they called a Fate Redirection. In her place another person was created. One well known to those who dealt with Zaibach's army in those days. On the plains of Fortune I stopped the Fanelian king from killing that one, and in the end she was returned to me. Until lately. The name of her alternate is Dilandau Albatou."
The words stopped and only the grip of whited knuckles on the hilt of a sheathed sword, and the ice stillness of the man betrayed the depth of emotions kept bound as if in stone.
Kaerin's eyes were wide at the last, the surprise in them too real to be feigned, but no alarm in them. "I see your need for secrecy," he breathed. "There is more than one country who'd wish his... presence or his life." He said the last with a shake of his head.
Allen made no response. He would not speak or even move until the next part of the exchange was acted out. At the end of it, he'd have the understanding that would lift the burden from him, or he'd have the young knight's life.
With some reluctance, and with hesitating discomfort, the other began and broke the expectant silence. "There is an old religion that says that a soul is too big for one person, and that three people at any time will share one soul. It is.. was.. that way with my siblings, a brother and a sister. When our parents departed, we had no means and different ideas of how to rectify that. So we parted ways, but kept in touch. Myself, I found my place in Pallas, learning the ways of the sword and honor; my sister to Freid, learning the matters of spirit. It was she who taught me that belief of three and one. My brother sought knowledge and went to Zaibach. From the legends and stories, you might have known him. His name was Chesta."
He paused at that looking for any recognition in the other man.
Allen's eyes widened slightly, not loosing the ice stillness but he inclined his head a fraction of an inch.
Kaerin nodded in return. "I suppose both of our stories have a little to do with the Dragonslayer Captain. From correspondence... it was your sister who saved my brother's life, perhaps as many times as it had nearly been taken." He paused and shook his head. "I bear no ill will, he took his own risk on the path he took. But my sister sees this in a different light and extracted a promise from me, to deliver a message. And that I will do, though you may be assured that this message is not of violence. I do not know its contents, but I've no desire to test my blade against the King's. If I did, I had a clear shot this morning while all of your attention was away. Neither you nor he could have stopped it."
Allen remained still for another long moment after the young man had fallen silent. Then he slowly closed his eyes. Opening them again a moment later, his stance lost its rigidity, though his body still held an attitude of something too tightly controlled.
He moved from the spot where he'd been, walking towards Kaerin but not directly - his path was more clearly towards the moored airship. He paused on fractionally, his eyes flickering over Kaerin's face, his own expression settling into more visible lines of grim pain. "I never feared violence against the king. He's capable, as you noted. Fate, or Zaibach sorcerers have taught me that there are hurts to fear that go beyond the spilling of blood or even the peace of death."
"Then perhaps you understand what it is like to lose a part of your soul." Kaerin replied, the tone had the fragile casualness of something tightly restrained. "He is not what I expected. Perhaps if I hadn't fought with him, I'd bear my sister's madness more fully. It was curiosity that gave me my misjudgment, but my purpose here is not so sinister as you seemed to believe."
"I told you, I believed nothing. But even the smallest chance of harm to my sister..." Allen shook his head with one brief jerk. His eyes lingered on Kaerin's another brief moment. "Not what you expected... hmmm.... And how could you? Or know that whatever he's done, he's paid for each act of it many times over. But it's pointless to make judgments of him. Who could be expected to understand besides a few who've seen more than we can almost bear to remember? Keep your eyes open, Kaerin: he's nothing less than Gaea herself."
Allen turned and walked back to the airship, climbing aboard and passing the crew without a word.
Kaerin stood a moment longer, his eyes on the ground in thought, before turning to make his way off of the airfield. His welcome was thin and could bear a night or more away. He had more than one thing to think about from the First Knight's revelation.
THE END OF PART 28!