Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Fan the Flame ❯ Fan the Flames ( Chapter 1 )

Okay, to all readers. This is my sixth Escaflowne fan fic (which I do not own… the show that is). In this chapter (possible others) there will be flashbacks. To define them I will put them in italics.

 

Chapter One: Span

 

How could this happen to me?

 

I made my mistakes

 

I've no where to run

 

The night goes on

 

As I'm fading away

 

I'm sick of this life

 

I just want to scream

 

How could this happen to me?

 

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A gray sky hung over the land as a young boy with sandy blonde hair made his way up huge stone steps. They looked old, possible more then a hundred since there was moss in every stride he took. He had a lot on his mind and he figured it showed in his eyes, so vacant, emotionless. He didn't want to be here. He was sure that was noticeable too.

 

It didn't take long. His mind was made up and he knew it. He knew he couldn't fight his father, and his mother wasn't much of help either. She would just stand there and scream at them, saying that it was going to be all right when she cleaned his wounds.

 

He just didn't want to go, but he had to. It was decided. By his father. He tried to explain that he just wasn't cut out to be in the military and that he was compassionate.

 

`Are you a man? Because if you are men join the militia, women stay home and clean.' It was a common thing for him. His father always questioned his manhood, made him feel like dirt.

 

He wasn't raised to be in the militia. Mostly his mother raised him. His father didn't give a damn, he never would. He didn't want a son, he didn't even want a daughter, and he just wanted to have his wife all to himself. It killed his old man to see his wife mothering her child and he found it funny. So in spite of his father's anger of this matter, he would sleep with the teddy bear that she made him every night; even at the age of fifteen.

 

`Where do you think you're going with that mange ridden thing? This is the army boy, not pre-school.' Angry, his father ripped the bear out of his hand and threw it on the floor, where the dog picked it up and walked away with it.

 

`It's just a keepsake, something to remind him of home. Let him take it.' His mother pleaded once more.

 

`Forget it.' He mumbled. His father raised his hand, a normal threat in the household that he didn't flinch anymore. When it came crashing down he didn't feel it anymore. Sure he felt it physically, but no longer did he feel it emotionally.

 

`You don't need to bring all this either, they provide for you. Why do you think it's a good idea for you to enroll?'

 

`So you don't have to.'

 

His father stuck a finger in his face and warned him, `listen, joining this army will be the best thing that ever happened to you. So don't blow it.'

 

It was amazing to him that he came here. He could have run away, he should have run away while he had the chance. Instead he found himself in front of two huge doors doing what he thought he never would do, listening to his father and enrolling in the army.

 

`I want you to have this. My mother gave it to me when I left home, but I haven't been able to use it.' His mother handed him a small book, a diary he presumed. `I- I want you to write in it, and give it to your children. I love you so much. Please take this; I've been saving this. If for any reason you leave the army, use this to buy food until you've found a stable job.' She opened the diary and slipped it in a pocket on the side. She kissed the side of his forehead.

 

He opened the doors with strength and noticed that there were many other people there. He walked solemnly towards the bushel, the diary clutched in his hands.

 

`You there,' a voice came from behind him. `I can help you here.' There were some groans in the other line, but he didn't want to start disobeying now, so he walked towards the man.

 

`Name.' He stated.

 

`Miguel L-L- Lavariel' he stuttered.

`Ah right, your father came down, said you were a real champion with a sword. Lord Dilandau would be pleased to hear that.'

 

Before Miguel could question the man said, `here is your serial number, each one is different. While you're in training, this number and this number will recognize you only. If you wish to share your name with your comrades in your bedding area you may, but names never leave there. Understand?'

 

Miguel nodded as he was given a card with a serial number on it.

 

`There is, however, an exception. Lord Dilandau is taking the fifteen best soldiers; if you are one of them you will have more privileges. He will also be taking six elite soldiers, so do your best. Also, if you are an elite you have a name.'

 

`May I remind you that the captain and other higher authorities will know you as the last four digits. You have to wear this always, if this is not abided by consequences will be made.' The man then handed him some sheets for him to sign. He then handed him a map and some more papers for him to read over. The man went on for a few more minutes before he let Miguel leave.

 

Miguel read the last four digits on his serial number, 4851. He sighed. He wasn't even done being schooled, and they want him in the militia.

 

`Hey watch it!' Miguel absentmindedly ran into someone and ended up falling onto the floor.

 

`Sorry' he said without looking up and instantly grabbing his mother's diary.

 

`Here.' Miguel looked up and there was a hand in front of his face.

 

`Thank you.' He grabbed the helping hand and stood himself up. `I'm…'

 

`4851…' said the light brown haired boy. `We're in a room together. Good thing that other guy wasn't, he didn't look too friendly.

 

`How do you know we're in a room together?' He asked the boy as they started to walk up another set of stairs.

 

`Didn't you listen? If the fourth last number is the same, you're in the same room as the other serial number holders. There are three to a room.' The boy seemed to be very bright. Either that or he just listened well.

 

`So, what's your name… serial number?' Miguel asked as his shirt was tugged to go left instead of right.

 

`4666. I figure it as a bad omen really.' He flipped some hair out of his eyes and then stopped abruptly. `There!' he said and pointed to a sheet of paper on a door. Above the door was a gold plate with 4000 imprinted on it.

 

`Look,' the boy started. He was pointing at some numbers on the sheet. `4666, that's me, you, 4851 and 4547.'

 

`That's me.' It was a quiet voice, almost as if the speaker was unsure to say anything at all. He had blonde hair and the most beautiful blue eyes that reminded Miguel of his mother's eyes.

 

`Hi,' the other boy smiled. `Let's go in. I presume we have the rest of the night to get our things in order.' The brown haired boy made his way inside. Miguel let the blond in before he went.

 

A very musty, un-used sent filled his nostrils. It was obvious that no one had used it for a while. The room was quite spacious. There were three beds in a semicircle around a fairly large table, with no chairs. The beds were stripped of sheets or pillows and the mattresses didn't seem too comfortable. Miguel went for the middle one, it looked like the most comfortable, and placed his few belongings on it.

 

`We have a bathroom too!' said the brown-haired boy. Miguel didn't want to be thrilled, for there was no reason he believed. It was only a bathroom, a dirty, disgusting bathroom that he had to share with two other men.

 

He stood at the door and scanned the small room. There was a cubical shower with a tattered green curtain, two towel bars, and a sink that appeared to be leaking for sometime, hence the rust spot formulating.

 

He walked back to his bed and sat gingerly on it. `I'm Miguel.' He said to the other two. `I-I find it would be easier if we just called each other by our given names while in here. Don't you?' He wasn't making any eye contact with the other two.

 

`Yea! I'm Gatti.' The brown-haired boy shoved a hand in front of Miguel and he shook it, next Gatti went to the blond.

 

`Shesta.' He said simply.

 

There was a soft knock on the door and Gatti rushed to answer it. There was a woman with dark long hair and glasses standing there. She was holding a bunch of papers and said, `4547, 4851, and 4666?' The three boys nodded. `Great, this is a schedule of all your training. Where it is, what it is, when it is and how to get there.' She seemed a pro at this Miguel noticed. She handed the papers to Gatti and went on her way.

 

`Well, lets see what this is about.' Gatti said.

 

 

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Okay, please let me know what you think. If I should continue or not? (I only need one review to know!)

 

Anyway, thanks for reading, please review

 

Yours truly,

 

Sweet Roses