1-April-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 Fourteen - Rites of Passage (cont)
Part 32
A few turns led them once again into the brief privacy of the lift. "We'll need to recover some of the equipment left behind," Dilandau mentioned.
Van inclined his head. "The Crusade will be arriving here before much longer. Along with Allen."
"Here?" Dilandau asked, rhetorically. The idea of even seeing Schezar again hadn't occurred to him, and certainly not within the safety of his own capitol. He shook his head. "Then wait for him if you want, getting communication is higher priority."
"Allen can handle himself, he doesn't need my help," Van said briefly. "I was just warning you."
"Hmph, I doubt he'll want much to do with me." Dilandau shrugged.
Van regarded Dilandau under his bangs. "He saved your life once."
Dilandau returned the look with a smirk. "From you, I believe."
"Yes."
"Then I don't imagine I'll have to worry about it happening again." The doors opened and the hallways beyond were not as empty as they were upon their first venture.
Van didn't answer. When the albino moved out of the lift, the king stayed in step.
Outside, the small courtyard in front of the pyramid-like fortress was full of activity, mostly centered around clearing away the rubble and debris that had fallen or been torn free from what was once the sorcerer's wing. The workers wearing drab gray overcoats and thick gloves of the same, paid the two little heed, though more than once glance occasionally darted to the white guymelef. Both men could occasionally pick out the words "Dragon spirit" and "Escaflowne" from hushed conversation, as strange machines worked at clearing and transporting the larger blocks. The sheer efficiency of it had a great deal of the mess cleared, even if restoration would be a much longer road.
Walking up to the hunched and kneeling shape of the red guymelef, Dilandau scaled the machine with ease. Within only a few moments, the Alseides had stood, and the cape had slid around its surface obscuring it from view.
Van watched the other boy, then jumped onto Escaflowne's shoulder and took her into the air, using his ability to "see" the cloaked guymelef to follow.
Bypassing the heavily trafficked roadways of the city, Dilandau instead lead the way around a nearly empty, wide side road that wound its way around the fortress, heading north before east again, using the sparse landmarks to adjust his path. Again out in the fields, he leaned back into the harness, trying to ignore the absence of any voices over the machine's movements. Needing a focus he scanned the viewer quickly, as expected Escaflowne traveled some distance above, keeping an uncanny proximity to the Alseides despite any changes he'd made in the path traveled. It was instead more the vaguest of outlines in the southern sky that caught his interest. He could only make one conclusion about what it was, but the Crusade only little resembled the airship he recognized.
Try as he could, there simply wasn't any emotion attached to the name or face. Vague residual irritation perhaps. The man had incredible timing and used it to full advantage, and one end, getting in the way of what Dilandau happened to want. Usually another battle, a completion of his task, revenge. Generally all centering around Van. But he couldn't call up that motivation anymore either.
Wandering, and useless, he decided, thoughts nearly caused the Captain to overshoot their destination. The albino brought the controls up short, ignoring the metallic strain of protest. Not bothering to power down fully or even remove the manteaux, he merely opened it a degree, enough to be visible to him, and opened the hatch.
Van 'saw' the cloaked guymelef come to a halt and recognized the place they had taken off from in the wild chase to Basram. He landed the white dragon close enough to ruffle the Alseides' manteaux, causing the camouflage to shimmer.
Dilandau descended from his own machine, heedless of the movement of the heavy material around him and stalked across the field to the cargo he'd carried there, now half obscured by windswept silt. With a slightly irritated sigh he pushed off the layer of dirt and set about searching the contents there.
Everything that had been packed was still there, neatly ordered and undisturbed. Van jumped down from Escaflowne, but leaned against the metal dragon, arms crossed, simply waiting.
The Captain seemed to find what he was looking for in short order. He sat back against the gathering of equipment, three devices in front of him, one larger and slightly bulky looking, two compact and identical to one another. Dilandau's main interest seemed to be on these.
After a few deliberate twists, the machine seemed to crackle slightly, but do nothing more. This seemed to satisfy the Captain, as he smirked smugly at it and picked it up. Scooping up one of the two hand sized ones, he walked over to where Van was leaning and handing both to him.
"The larger device isn't waterproofed. The smaller one will allow communication for a short distance if there's an unexpected separation, just depress the larger button on the top and talk."
Van tilted his head, looking at the small object. It had a clip and a small hook on it that seemed like it would fit in a belt, so he clipped it to his.
Dilandau walked back to the pile, picking up his own and pacing it within the same concealed pocket as he had Jajuka's charm. With interest, he searched through the equipment still there for anything else that might be useful. Discarding most of the rest for the moment, he fished out two packages, holding up one vaguely in Van's direction as an offering. "Rations and water," he explained with a slight shrug. "It's in our, well my, best interest to say away for at least an hour. Unless he's turned into a slow temper as well." The last was said a bit sourly.
Van accepted the package. He shrugged. He didn't know the General very well but it was evident that he was altogether unpleased by the outcome of the sorcerers operation.
Van stepped away from Escaflowne and found a spot to drop onto the ground. He chose a direction that allowed him to look back towards the fortress.
The rations within the package was palatable but little else; unleavened bread and dried meat. Not particularly caring, Dilandau chewed on the sharply spiced jerky, for once content simply to wait. "It's about time things got back to normal," he murmured mostly to himself, but glanced in the direction of his companion. "Well as close as it seems likely to get."
Van watched the other boy from behind his curtain of dark hair, as he drank some of the water. He thought about the word 'normal'.
He realized that the past year, rebuilding Fanelia, learning to come to terms with himself, finding something like peace... that was all the dream. It seemed to have vanished like one, and only got vaguer and vaguer with each passing day.
Dilandau glanced back at the silent king watching him for a long moment. "So you are just going to follow me around until..." He shrugged instead of finishing the sentence. "An irony if nothing else."
"I don't know," Van said quietly. He brushed his hair back absently. "There are things I have to do. Responsibilities. That's the only other thing I have."
"An entire kingdom, yet you're sitting here in the middle of the desert," Dilandau leaned back, sounding amused at the prospect.
Van looked at the pale boy, his expression still. "You think that is pathetic."
"Surprising, maybe." The other shrugged face tilted up towards the sky. "I'd say unexpected but I've gotten to the point where I simply refuse to expect anything." He grinned at bit at that, though the expression seemed to have little connection with the words.
Van pulled his knees up and rested his chin on his folded arms. "I can't stay much longer. I've... I was asked to go to Freid and have my, my 'demon' put to rest."
"Mmm. They rebuilt that country as well? Clever but ruthless place," Dilandau commented almost absently. "Your demon to rest?" He laughed. "That sounds rather final."
Van closed his eyes. "Maybe."
Dilandau lifted his head, and raised an eyebrow at the other. "And if it is? Do you intend to be as complacent with death as you have been with me?"
Eyes still closed, Van said, "I don't know."
"A shame," the other said, returning to the more casual stance. "You were always more interesting when you really fought."
"Then it won't make any difference to you," Van said. "Maybe that's best."
"Maybe," was the doubtful reply.
Dilandau shook his head at last, settling on a change of subject. "So why has Zaibach warranted the attentions of Austria's prized Heavenly Knight?"
"He's here to take you... us... back. So maybe a wasted trip."
A white eyebrow arched at that. "We managed to get here. Did he expect a sudden incapacity once the border was crossed?"
Van looked up. "They don't want me to use Escaflowne. They didn't want me to bring her here. Besides, your brother is concerned about you."
"So, it's more a matter of trust," Dilandau said, a little off handedly. The only sign he'd even heard Van's last sentence was the quick sharp look that it had earned the king.
Van shrugged. "Maybe. Dryden found an old document with things about Escaflowne, and the Draconians." He turned, looking back out in the direction of the fortress, more for something to look at. /He doesn't care. Why should he?/
Dilandau in the meantime had fallen silent, looking at the mecha in question for a long moment. He nodded, almost to himself, signs of concentrating dancing the edges of an otherwise schooled expression. "I remember a little of that."
Van glanced back at the other boy, his expression imperceptibly lightened. "You do?" Then he nodded, a brief smile flickering around the corners of his mouth before his face settled back into a neutral expression.
Oblivious of the subtle change in the other boy, and eyes still fixed on the side of what had been for so long a large part of his consternation, he shrugged. "It happens," he said, a touch dismissively. "It's not usual." He added the last with the last traces of concentration edging away. He glanced back at Van, a look of irritability crossing his features quickly. "What's so interesting?"
Van shook his head. "Nothing."
The other settled back against some of the canvas tarp protecting the equipment with a noncommittal noise. "For nothing, you stare at the city long enough."
Van shifted, turning and settling also, no longer facing the distant fortress, but instead the other boy.
The silence that stretched out between the two only served to further darken the albino's mood. It was almost a reminder of how fragile the normalcy he'd enjoyed was. The landscape around provided no more distraction than his companion offered. Given the time he planned to simply wait things out, a task he'd never been good at from the start, he passed the time reviewing the events leading up to the escape from Basram. One detail in particular struck him, forgotten in the mess and pace that had come of the actions and their repercussions.
"Why is it," he began, the smile that had began with the words didn't match the emotion in garnet eyes. "That you didn't think it was necessary to tell me about damaging the dragon?"
Van blinked, lost in his own thoughts. "What about damaging her?"
"The mark on your face is gone, as well as the one that matched it. I'd imagine the one across the chest and leg as well. If I remember, even Locious mentioned something about cataloguing the damages to the machine."
Trying to pull his thoughts together, Van couldn't read the other boy's attitude, something that wasn't much of a surprise.
"What was I supposed so tell you?" he asked quietly. "That damaging her damages me? You figured it out. I didn't think it would matter to you. It's been that way since," he groped, trying to remember. "Freid? I think..."
"You may have worked alone," the boy replied, his tone finally expressing a bit, wandering to the very edge of civil. "But that is not how I operate. Details such as that are important."
"It was my responsibility to do what I had to do to accomplish what we went for. What difference would it have made?" Van answered quietly. And then a little less so, "I'm capable of doing what's required."
"The difference could have meant your death," Dilandau growled. "You've been deliberately leaving yourself vulnerable. Capable or not, I need to know exactly what I can and can not expect from you if you want me to be of any use to you." The statements rose slightly in volume as the other's fists had clenched at his side. Dilandau's eyes were narrowed and focused entirely on the boy across from him. "Or you of any use to me."
Cinnamon eyes widened slightly. A muscle jumped at the side of Van's jaw and he jumped up abruptly, walking away. Standing with his back to the other, he said, forcing the words out, "I was afraid to tell you."
"Of WHAT? That'd I'd take the first opportunity to scrap the thing? I've had more than enough cleaner, faster, and more satisfying solutions at hand."
"That you'd pity me."
The other seemed to calm down at that, staring at the boy's back with confusion. The idea was almost completely foreign to him, both in its concept and implications. "And you would rather death than that?" he asked, still trying to get his mind around the concept.
"Of course."
"You value another person's opinion more than your life?" Confusion had turned to incredulity. Dilandau leaned against one elbow, his fingers rapping against the pommel of the borrowed sword while considering this.
"If you like. My life's more valuable to... to my country than it is to me. It doesn't matter anyway. I can see it makes no difference to you." There was a touch of relief in that but Van stayed with his back to the other boy.
The sounds of movement behind Van completely stilled. "How do you figure?"
Van tuned around slowly, eyebrows raised. "What?"
"I said, how do you figure?" The other boy repeated, each syllable emphasized. "There is a difference between impulsive and frivolous, I've always thought. I do not waste my time," he finished, the careful pronunciation giving the short statements a hard edge to them.
Van shook his head slightly. "I don't understand you," he said simply. "I didn't mean to offend you. I'll try to be more careful."
"I wasn't asking for careful," Dilandau replied. "Though I can easily say that of everything you've said and done since this started again, I've understood maybe a handful if that." Frustration made the other boy's pitch erratic.
The corner of Van's mouth twitched. "Me too," he admitted. "For both of us." He met the garnet eyes seriously. "You're right. I am used to being alone. I'll try to learn to think about what you might need to know."
The other boy shook his head, biting back an instinctive reprimand and command. With a long, sigh he let the last of the emotion slip away again. Instead of looking at the city or Van, his gaze slid across the clear skies above without any real intent.
"Does this information thing work both ways?"
Dilandau nodded without hesitation. "I'm not your commander," he said, the only explanation forthcoming.
Van nodded. "So what is wrong between you and Serena?"
The Captain lifted his head, looking at the other sharply. After a moment, the boy shrugged. "It's...." the other boy frowned slightly. "A disagreement, I think."
"About what?" Van said, resisting the urge to hold his breath for an answer.
The other shook his head. "A question I wasn't ready for," he answered, with no reluctance, simply difficulty.
Van suppressed an urge to press the matter. He nodded, accepting it.
The taller boy laughed suddenly, a low sound as he leaned back again. "I wasn't thinking questions like that when I agreed, but it figures somehow that would be the first you'd ask." He shrugged. "I don't remember much; it's still a dream."
Van nodded again. If Dilandau had asked him how he knew there *was* something wrong, he might have had as much trouble as the albino in answering, but he knew it just as he knew the temperature of the air around him.
"So when did you figure it out?" The other boy asked quietly, speaking quickly to forestall any questions or emotion in his voice. "That you had... this... for her?"
Van dropped his eyes and then looked up, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I didn't. Figure it out. It just seemed to... happen. She made me feel things."
Dilandau smirked a bit at that. "Considering the state of dress this morning I'm not surprised."
Van nodded, the smile still tugging at his mouth. "She was a bit... curious about the same thing, the morning before."
"There is a lot to wonder about," the other replied with more of a vocal shrug than a physical one.
"Like what?" His tone of voice was curious. It had seemed to Van as if the other boy was much more comfortable with the physical acts, certainly more familiar.
"How it's different for starts. It's hard to imagine sex as a different gender. There's others, pregnancy would be a concern at her age," Dilandau tilted his head slightly, not particularly looking at anything.
Van's face went white as a sheet at the last remark.
"Never considered that? There have been some female officers who prefer the same gender for that reason alone," Dilandau said, the vaguely amused expression growing slightly.
Van blinked and swallowed. Then he squatted on his heels, feeling momentarily dizzy. The thought that had grabbed hold of his heart was simple fear. He was all too familiar with one aspect of the situation. He knew that women sometimes lost their lives as a complication of pregnancy or childbirth. With his own mixed ancestry and the changes the sorcerers had effected on her, he realized that he might have put her life in danger with such carelessness.
Dilandau paused, trying to gauge the expression on the other boy's face. Not sure what to make of what he found there, he waited instead, not quite understanding enough of what his own response was to give it a voice.
After a moment Van collected himself and stood up slowly. "You must think I'm stupid," he said softly. His eyes were shadowed with concern. "I... you'd be right."
"If you say so. I think you care too much about what I think." He shook his head. "Whatever you are thinking, I'm not even sure if it's possible. Having a child that is."
"If it were, it could be dangerous," Van said, steeling himself to get the words out. "I should have considered it."
The other looked at Van curiously. "And if you had? Would you have changed everything?"
"I don't know," Van said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"There is of course the possibility that she was already aware of the risks."
Van frowned. He couldn't argue with the statement, though he could think of at least one part of the risk she hadn't been aware of - his mixed parentage. He took a couple of breaths, storing the concerns away for another time. Glancing back at the taller boy, he said, "You've had experience... what do you... who..." he stopped himself, his cheeks darkening. "No, never mind."
Dilandau regarded Van, trying to sort out what exactly the question had been, despite the boy's request. "Who what?" he finally asked, a slow curiosity keeping him from dropping the subject.
Not quite meeting his eyes, the king said, "You have... preferences?" he selected the word from a previous remark of the other's.
The other boy considered a moment, strangely comfortable about the whole matter. "Not really," he smirked a bit, a wry expression taking the place of amusement. "It's not really about the sex, it's more about..." Words seemed to fail the taller boy. He gave up on trying to find them and simply went with another tact. "There are two times when a person is completely honest, and that's either when they are in great pain or..." he let the words trail off.
Van's eyes flickered up, meeting the garnet ones. He nodded in understanding and agreement. Something about Dilandau's attitude seemed to calm him. He even smiled slightly.
"Do you suppose it's safe to return? Or do you think if we stay out here, Jajuka will contact you?" he asked.
"That was a hope." The albino glanced at the bulkier communicator amongst Van's possessions. "One that is seeming less likely by the minute. Though it's always been safe," Dilandau pulled himself up discarding the small package that was on his lap. "I was simply looking for less complicated."
"Safe... you mean that since it is the sorcerers, they might have a way to detect it?" Van asked.
"It's their technology."
Van nodded. "Then perhaps you can try another," he said. "Take the pendant off, and hold it in your hand by the chain, let it hang free to move but don't move it."
Dilandau gave Van a look, but slipped the jewelry from his neck as asked. A faint touch of a dream passed through his mind, leaving him with just the suspicion that there was another detail left out of his knowledge. He held it by the clasp, and glance at Van, an eyebrow raised.
"Think of what you want to find," Van told him. "Close your eyes and make a picture of Jajuka in your mind, Make it as clear as you can... make it real. Then think about where... what direction."
The other boy looked from the pendant to Van, a suspicion sliding into focus. "That's how she did it, wasn't it? That... woman, from the Mystic moon."
Van nodded. "Yes. You can do it."
Dilandau glanced at Van a little sharply. It was never a question of if he *could* do it in his mind. /It's more.../ He glanced back at the dangling gem with a sigh unable to think of the continuation of the nebulous thought. There wasn't a rational reason.
He held it up by the chain again, feeling a little ridiculous doing so. It was easy enough forming a picture of Jajuka in his mind, the feature slid into focus almost instantly, the narrow regal face, immaculate clothing. It was only slightly more difficult to think of the recent changes, a subtle weariness that wasn't quite as present, and the scar that ran along one side of his face, from some blow that had taken half of the beastman's sight.
"Now what?" he asked, after a moment of silence, nothing felt particularly different.
"Now ask the question in your mind, and reach for the answer. The pendant will swing in the direction of what you are searching for," Van answered softly.
Dilandau nodded just slightly, sharpening the mental image that had fuzzed while listening to the other boy. The question was simple enough, where Jajuka was. It didn't seem to cause any reaction again. /Reach for it, hm./ How he was supposed to do that.... Instead, he tried to see what was around the beastman, to bring into focus whatever would be in the background.
It was almost like an audible snap within. Frustration gave way to determination, and suddenly something seemed to give way, instantly around the mental image of beastman, came into focus a cracked wall, the paint flaking away in areas to reveal mortar and wood. The image of Jajuka himself darkened and blurred as if slipping into the shadows beneath an awning that was just visible. A strong tug at his fingers and a strange hum shattered the image, only leaving the vague impression of half heard voices.
"Still in the city," he said quietly, almost below audibly. Somehow it had worked. His eyes snapped open. "Does this work for any question?"
Van shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't ask questions while I had it. It seemed to work when she wanted it to."
Dilandau twisted his hand so that the chain wrapped around his fingers and the crystal rested within his palm. He regarded it soberly a moment before an almost involuntary smile crept over his face. It seemed so easy to use; it would figure nicely that perhaps it could answer anything. Brightening considerably at the prospect, he unwrapped the chain again and placed it around his neck. It would do for experimentation later. When there was more time anyway, he had quite a few questions that had been building up.
Van watched the pale boy, arms crossed, as various expressions moved across his mobile and expressive face. He'd heard the words 'still in the city'. He guessed the next move would be to return. To the city, where eventually Allen would be waiting.
Dilandau broke out of his thoughts, once again scanning the horizon briefly. The sun had barely moved, enough time in the day perhaps. "We'll head back. Jajuka's safe for now. There's no reason to interfere yet."
Van acknowledged by turning to go back to Escaflowne. Dilandau's presence near him created a slight sense of constant tension, but it was preferable to the sense of howling emptiness his absence brought about.
"Wait," the albino called after Van. His expression had returned to one of consideration. "We have a bit of an advantage still. They only saw Escaflowne leave. If it doesn't return..." He smirked a bit at that. "If little else it may allow them to drop their guard."
Van paused, regarding the albino. He felt a very strong desire to keep the guymelef close to him. It was a refuge of sorts, but one which continued to nudge him in a direction he found all too easy to follow. "So... what? I leave her here and go back with you? Or stay myself?"
Dilandau eyed the darker boy curiously. "I thought leaving my side was not an option with you."
"I'd prefer not to. I'm trying to cooperate with your plans."
"Hmph. I'm beginning to think it would be dangerous to leave you anyway," he remarked absently. "If we can find cover for the dragon, I can remove the manteaux on the smaller model. That will keep it from detection until we need it."
Van shrugged. He looked around for the cover and his eyes fell on a low ridge of rock not far away with a bit of an undercut shelf below it. Without answering, he moved to the melef and jumped on her back, and the silver machine changed to its walking form.
The Captain gave Van's actions a cursory glance. It was hard for him to comprehend the feeling that there was no chance of an attack while he was busy or his back was turned. It was a foreign sensation, but he found himself easily adjusting to it. Pushing aside those ideas, he turned back to the equipment and climbed easily to one of the higher points, and removed obstacles from the transport shell that had been used around the scout guymelef. The necessary tools normally used for repairs, he knew would be within. It was only standard in case the machine had been damaged in any way during relocation.
As a precaution, he delicately removed the energists from the shoulders of the smaller machine, and set them aside as they reverted to a dull murky sheen of long dead crystals. That out of the way, he quickly began removing the shoulder guards of the machine, careful to keep the wiring that the long sheets of metal hid intact.
It took the king a few minutes to move the guymelef under the overhanging shelf, and several more to walk the distance back on his two legs. He planted himself where he could watch the work, but didn't comment or offer to help.
By the time Van had returned, one of the guards attached to the cloak was already hanging solely by the thick wires that ran from within the rounded shoulders. The other was only a few bolts away from being in the same condition. As the last slid free of the home, they both slid sharply down a handwith. The albino regarded both a moment, his hand straying to his sword before he seemed to think otherwise.
He glanced back over his shoulder, extending one hand. "Your sword?" he called back. "Mine's too fine of a cutting edge to do the job without dulling."
Van took out the borrowed sword and placed the hilt in Dilandau's hand.
Nodding, Dilandau seemed to cut wires at some unknown and varying length, some right to the base of the guard itself. The heavy metal fell easily the rest of the way to the ground, and Dilandau handed the weapon back, as well as the two energists.
It took only a further handful of minutes to remove the sunken casings that had housed the crystals.
Van watched the process with his chin propped on his knees. He was curious about the Zaibach armaments but found his eyes and mind fixing on the pale boy's confident actions instead.
Dilandau stepped back, finally refitting the energist within the disconnected castings and walking back to the Alseides, with a quiet, "I'll be back," to the other boy as he walked past him.
Van stood up quickly, frowning. So he was to be left after all. He crossed his arms over his chest and stayed put.
Dilandau gave the boy another long look, but not making anything coherent out of it, continued on to the guymelef, putting the small equipment within the hold of the damaged arm snugly before climbing into the cockpit and starting the machine again into life. It straightened and a single half step took it within easy range of the smaller scout model. Instead of returning to flight mode, a single tendril of Crimina metal curved around the smaller machine with a cautious slowness and lifted the melef out of the casings and from on top of the heavy manteaux.
Discarding the machine, the Alseides knelt again, the claw only half retracted to the point where the metal had pooled and hardened on the ground. The machine hissed and the cockpit opened again.
"For all the trouble this is, this better work." Dilandau said, returning to the ground level. His hands absently brushed at off the remaining droplets of the fluid within the melef from the surface of the armor. "Then again, I don't see how it can fail."
Van honestly had only the vaguest idea what the other boy was doing, as he relaxed slightly.
"Get the other side, and don't mind the fabric, it's not as delicate as it looks." He vaguely gestured to the second plate opposite him, even as he pushed the thick black material to bunch towards the first place. "I've started to wonder. Why was it, that when I'm working with you, things move with almost ridiculous ease, but when against you, with the exception of once, something would get in the way."
Van assumed the indicated place and mirrored the other boy's actions. He snorted softly at the comment. "Fortune of a demon," he muttered softly, remembering something he'd heard a long time ago, the day he'd first tried his wings.
"Probably," Dilandau admitted, pushing the weight of the material and equipment onto the silvery platform that had been made. He paused a moment, to work out slightly strained muscles. "I used to think it was the girl."
Van glanced at Dilandau, the words causing him to stop for just a second. "So did I," he admitted, not looking up.
Dilandau made a noncommittal noise at that. He glanced over the work done with a satisfied eyes, but the approval didn't reach his voice. "This is too easy."
Van leaned back, resting a hand on one hip. "What are you trying to do?" he asked finally.
"This?" he asked, looking at the manteaux with slight disinterest. "Just what I said I was going to do. We'll cover what parts of Escaflowne that can be see from the air. It's small but it should work." He gave the brief explanation without much attention to it.
Van cocked his head, wondering why the albino was going to the trouble, but the answer was simply that he was compelled to be thorough, as he had been compelled to follow Van to the ends of Gaea once before.
Not seeing any more reason to hesitate, Dilandau return to the Alseides, pushing the cockpit hatch open again. A few last steps to take... The machine powered up again quickly, as if in response to the boys impatience now that the task was coming to a closure of sorts. A little power and heat, and the crimina metal on the ground softened enough to cradle the cloak from the winds, and stepping back returned to flight.
Van watched, arms crossing again, this time not concerned that the taller boy might leave him there.
The work was done at a distance this time, several minutes passed with nothing truly discernable from the shadow of the two guymelefs. Success came eventually at the strange sight of half of the white dragon flickering then fading out of existence, and the rest shadowed by both the overhand and the edges of the stealth cloak. The red machine at its side shifted then stood and returned, crossing the deserted plains easily. Instead of powering down again, the red melef merely knelt and waited.
Van walked up to the red machine, looking up, and then, taking a breath, jumped up to catch hold of one of the large mechanical arms.
Almost immediately, the machine responded, straightening again. The folds of the Alseides' cloak were pushed around, enfolding Van in darkness. The jarring movement of the machine was indication enough of motion though.
Balancing on the machine's arm, braced against it, Van felt something twist in his chest as if the white guymelef was calling after him. He closed his eyes and tried to force the feeling down and away.
THE END OF PART 32!