Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ A Country's Hope ❯ A Familiar Place ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Eerie shadows cast their ways over the various surrounding trees of that unknown forest. Perhaps there was the occasional rustling noise created from those nocturnal animals...but generally...the only sounds that came from the area were the chorus of inebriated male voices...laughing merrily...or speaking louder than need-be--as well as the crackling and popping of flames before them. Several forms were lounged out casually against the man-made campsite...leaning back against the trunks of trees, or perhaps just seated on a grassy patch. Orange light would flicker over individual faces ... and then cast it's glow upon something large. As soon as it was touched with the fire's light...the greyish-white metallic surface glimmered and clearly this mammoth form was a guymelef...of an Ispano design.

"Wine always tastes better after a victory.." Sounded one utterance from the group.

"This dawn we will see the final battle..." A random voice called out over the crowd. "And we will be the first to attack the enemy's castle..."

The very comment inveigled an uproar of comments--cheers, laughs, general chatting. The group was clearly gladdened that this war would finally be finished. And away from the palpable soldiers of Fanelia...a young, black-haired man stood beside a tree. The area he was at seemed considerably darker than the one around the blazing fire. His palm would raise, and be lain upon that jagged bark. The free hand lifted to brush away a few lengthy strands from his face-revealing those features-the bronze skin, dark eyes, and a mustache of a similar matching hue to that hair. He was clad in a light weight armor...and strapped to his side...was a sword. The blue hilt bore a golden mark, some symbol of Fanelia.

"Balgus...?"

The large framed man stepped up behind the younger looking of the pair. Brown locks framed that face...and hung in a messy jumble to the end of his neck. A few scars were visible over his face...nothing hideously grotesque to look at. Balgus was a strong man...who had been in several battles before this. He wore those scars with pride, and honor.

"Yes, m'lord?"

"After the war ends...will you be leaving...?"

Balgus remained silent for a moment or so. He was almost hesitant to respond to the question, although...he couldn't keep the young king waiting too long. "Yes, Lord Goau...I.. must hold my spirit once more..."

The king glanced aside, and nodded, "I see..." And he went silent for a brief moment, leaning most of his weight on the tree. That head turned slightly, and a few more words were spared. "I'll miss you..."

"My lord..." And Balgus bowed his head respectfully. "I-I'll never forget your kindness..."

"It's all right. I want you to go. Go and master the ways of the warrior...and someday return to Fanelia."

"My lord.."

The two sank into silence. Thoughts of war seemed to consume them both. Goau quietly stared into the vast amount of shadows that unfolded before him. Would the surprise attack they had planned for Omora really work to their advantage...? The war had taken it's toll on both sides-Fanelia might have been inadvertent with their intendment, and could have possibly allowed the opposing side to divulge their actions. His only hope could be for that to not come to pass. But, within his heart, he knew he was tired of fighting...and at that point in time...he only wanted an end. Either side could have won, but just so long as one of them did.

A brilliant flash disturbed the young king's thoughts, and he lifted that gaze to the distance. His head tilted in bewilderment, and he felt the words rush forth...'what is that...?' The Fanelian stumbled forward, and rushed around the trees moving quicker and quicker to come to that destination. Balgus followed closely behind...allowing his huge form to lumber along. The two men came to a small pond. Within their view, was a young-looking woman. A few fireflies scintillated around her to create a comely atmosphere. Loose fabric folds swayed gently in a quiet breeze...which also happened to take the dark, silken locks along. Those tenuous arms raised before her, and she pointed fingertips forward. Suddenly, a pair of whitewashed wings exploded from the woman's back...unfolding and outstretching quite the distance behind herself.

"A...draconian...! The demons of legend!" Balgus's eyes widened as he watched the scene play before him. He shifted one leg forward, and then grasped a hold of his hilt. "Step back, you're in danger, Lord!"

"Don't, Balgus..." Goau could only stare in admiration, lifting his hand to lay on the larger man's shoulder-in hopes that it would motion him to remove his grip from the sword. The Fanelian king remained calm as he watched the 'demon woman' before him. "...she's no demon. She's beautiful...I would gladly allow such a demon to steal my very soul..."

"K-king Goau...?"

The youthful Fanel stepped onward-almost as if it were against his will. The water provided some resistance to his movement...especially once he got to the deeper parts, but he managed to come up to the winged-woman. She was all-the-more resplendent up close. His lips parted, yet no words could escape...and the young draconian had turned to face him...those wings stretching out at her sides. A soft expression was given as she regarded the young king.

"Goau...of Fanelia...?"

He blinked a couple of times, after she spoke, "That's right...but how did you who I am?"

"When I was born...it was prophesized that the man for whom I was destined would come tonight...when the Mystic Moon hung just above the western mountains..." She smiled gently, and those fingers would lace before herself.

"You mean me...?" Goau blinked in surprise as he watched the woman in front of him.

She nodded gently. "Yes...our meeting was fated, you see..."

"I'm beginning to see...what is your name...?"

"Varie.."

"Varie... " He repeated softly, and then he extended his hand to receive her own. "Would you come with me...?"


* * *


Morning would arrive in the world of Gaea sooner than most had expected. Golden rays of light would touch everything with it's warm glow. It was a sign for life to come back from it's momentary cease, and the birds became animated..chirping merrily within the trees. Much of that planet was at peace, and morning was only the sign of a new day...a new routine...and a new beginning. But, for two separate countries...it could only be referred to as...'another morning.' Most of them had been up the entire evening...anticipating for the day's events...and that was the way it went within Omora. Guymelefs were placed in easy accessible areas so each pilot would be able to get to them quicker. Blacksmiths had forged several swords of strong materials...and armories worked the same way. It was quite the profitable business to have in times of war.

From within the window of the castle, a dark-haired king watched over the bustling town. One that was busy preparing for an incursion...rather than common folk going about their daily business. That type of thing was no longer allowed since there was a threat of assailment from the Fanelians. And for what reasons did they have for this war...? It wasn't even clear any longer. Perhaps it was a power struggle, but...that King of Omora tended to believe otherwise.

The obsidian oculars drifted towards his Queen who was sleeping soundly in the lush bed. It must have been she...who was the determinant of all this quarreling. He made his way over to the bed, and kneeled before it, looking on as the elegant femme slumbered peacefully. There was a stir from the slender woman, and her arm fell to the side...leaving the hand in easy reach for the man to take. He brought it close to his face, and inclined that sconce so his forehead was touched by the knuckles of the lady's hand.


" King Garrus, you can't be serious! Marrying the witch-woman will only seal the fate of Omora's destruction! Nothing good can come out of this..."

"Then so be it..."

"Have you been struck with the illness of insanity...?! Holding a demon such as that woman in our midst will only make countries fight against us...until they do eliminate her..."

"Celia is no demon! She is to be the Queen of this country...whether or not I gain your approval. And if other countries do not approve well...then...they will have to fight against me. But I will not give her up so easily...I will fight to the very death to protect the woman I love..."


Garrus shook away the thoughts, and closed his eyes tightly. A weight was felt upon his shoulder, and he glanced up slowly, finding his gaze locked on a set of dusky eyes. His thin lips formed a smile, and he lessened his grasp on her hand. Celia withdrew her own and pushed herself upright, twisting her torso so she could adjust the pillows behind her-allowing them to support her posterior as she leaned against the cushioning.

"You should be getting dressed soon, Celia. We must get you out of this area before it is too late. I am certain this war was caused over..."

Garrus was cut off as Celia raised a pallid hand, canting her head gently, "You are probably right...and quite possibly we may lose. But there are much better ways to deceive the enemy rather than running away..."

"But...how do you intend....?"

"K-King Omoi..." A voice called from behind the king.

Garrus twisted around, and his eyes landed on one of the many messengers of the palace. He nodded in acknowledgment towards the youthful male, and then spoke up, "What is it...?"

"Enemy 'melefs were spotted in the forest to the Northeast..."

The young Omoi sighed, and wandered over to that window once more. Eyes darted over the random soldiers who moved ahead welding freshly made weapons and the men who were busily repairing the guymelefs. His gaze lowered, and he placed his hand on the window pane, bowing his head in shame. Was it all his fault...for bringing Celia into this...? Would his own selfish desire for love...cost him his own country...? He remained silent, letting those thoughts encompass his mind for a long while.

"Garrus...?" Celia tipped her head curiously as she watched her lover beside the window.

He lifted his head, yet didn't face the two who patiently awaited a response from the young king. His hand moved away, and he brought the side of his index finger over the top of his upper lip "...." The man turned after a moment or so of lingering thoughts, and let his eyes rest first on the beautiful woman within the bed's sheets, and then to the youthful soldier in the doorway. "....then we must attack them."

"Y-yes, your majesty..."

"... make certain you bring plenty of 'melef reinforcements... ... " A grim look came into those features, and he bit on his lower lip, only to add, ".... and if they make it into Omora... I will personally see to it that every member of the Fanelian army... ...dies."

Those words evoked a gasp from the woman-which raised her hands to attempt to muffle it, and a single nod from the youth-who turned on his heel, and stepped out of the room. Celia stared at Garrus in horror, and brought the digits away from the petite mouth. Lips settled in a thin line, and the slender brows would furrow in disapproval. The Omoran could only offer a sympathetic look to her as he walked to the door, and paused there.

"You should get dressed, Celia. You'll have to leave this country soon..."

"But!" She raised her hand to protest, only to find it was too late...and Garrus had already disappeared from her view.