Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Of Knights And Scoundrels ❯ A doored kiss ( Chapter 1 )

Fort Castelo.

Try as he might, the bold and very underlined words on the letter carrying his new official orders had been printed with conviction and demanded not to be ignored. As it was, a fierce battle of wills was going on between the pristine piece of paper and the fire spitting Knight Caeli. There were casualties on both sides, but it was not altogether clear which one of them was leading the dispute so far.

Allen Schezar had read the letter so many times over that the edges were beginning to fray; his anxious hands had rubbed and crumpled every grain of the cursed sheet, tracing every curve of the neat calligraphy with sincere loathing. Funny how his superiors had gone to the trouble of finding a skilled enough scribe to put the orders on paper, considering all the haste involved in issuing them. Allen had taken that fact as nicely as a slap in the face.

Finally deciding he had stood in the middle of his room for long enough, he discarded the letter on top of his bureau, swearing that if he ever saw a similar communiqué in his life, it would be the last the Asturian army ever had the opportunity to send him. He needed to start putting his travel pack together, so he moved to the wardrobe, sorting through his clothing at the same time as he did it to his agitated thoughts.

The... 'incident', as everyone else saw fit to call it, that had been the cause of his dismissal, for a dismissal was exactly what was imprinted on that letter, was still fresh on his memory. For almost a year now, he had maintained a secret relationship with the eldest Princess and heiress to the throne of Asturia, Marlene. The two of them had shared a romance worthy of any self-respecting mushy novel: passionate, but doomed to clandestinity.

Unfortunately, the Knight-Princess coupling only worked as far as duty was concerned. Other than that, it was heavily frowned upon by the Court. But even the aristocrats' likeliness to gain wrinkles in the forehead was the least of Marlene's and his troubles. The Schezar family was enshrouded in controversy to begin with, courtesy of Allen's father Leon, who had abandoned his wife and two children after thoroughly draining the house's finances. But as much as it pleased Allen to have one more thing to blame on his father, the worst and in fact the determining deathblow to the love affair had been the fact that the Princess had been given away for engagement to the Duke of Freid, compliments of her own father.

There was no way for her to run away from the commitment, so Allen had retreated to friendship with the Princess, not wanting to cause her any more grief than absolutely necessary, nor lose her entirely. On the day of the 'incident', the two of them had been sharing a perfectly innocent cup of tea on Marlene's quarters, when not so innocent thoughts emerged. Alarm and outright fear had taken hold of Allen's mind so quickly after that, that all he could remember was the sound of the door snapping open and the King turning a very crimson shade.

He directed another seething glare at the letter that lay mocking him in its austere simplicity and impersonal script, challenging it to somehow rewrite itself into something worse. Those orders were his punishment and the King's way of ensuring that nothing of the sort ever happened again, be it with Allen or any other man that happened to take a liking for one of his daughters. He picked up a handful of white, perfectly pressed and folded shirts and tossed them over his shoulder into the travel bag laying open upon the bed.

Fort Castelo indeed.

Well, of one thing he could at least be certain: he was not being dismissed lightly. He was sure someone had taken great lengths to ensure that he was sent as far away as physically possible from Palas, capital of Asturia, his current place of residence and home to the hottest scandal of the decade. The name of the fort he was being assigned to had struck no immediate chords in his memory when he had read it, although he was sure he had to have come upon it at least once or twice during his studies to become a knight.

It had taken him a good twenty minutes examining maps in his study before he was able to locate it, and during that time, he had come to the swift realisation that not only did the fort occupy no place of significant importance whatsoever in Asturia's defences, but it was also a materialization of several ill attributes combined into one. It was unknown, desolate, ungodly remote and – his personal favourite – situated on the fringes of the kingdom near the Fanelian border.

Someone must have been very hopeful that he came to stumble across a dragon while taking a future stroll in the woods, no doubt. The worst of all was that he knew exactly who that someone was and why he would desire such a lowly fate to befall on Allen Schezar: King Aston himself. With a dry laugh, the knight pondered how that dramatically cut his chances of ever having an exemplary career. Being assigned to a fort in the middle of nowhere would have normally angered Allen, but after losing Marlene, he was in such a state of detachment from reality, that he truly could not care less about that detail.

He placed the last of his trousers on the open bag with more care than that he had given to its peers beneath, now that his frustration and anger had somewhat abated. He ran a mental check through the list of supplies he would need to take with him and, deeming himself satisfied, shut the case with a heavy sigh. He had everything he would need from here; the only thing left to do was head to the Army's Headquarters to pick up all the files on the people he would be working with from now on and embark on his transport.

Yes, he was ready to go. Allen Schezar, Knight Caeli, fallen in disgrace and sentenced to serve for the rest of his days in a useless position away from everything and everyone he had come to care about, for the convenience of others.

The front door of the Schezar manor closed soundly behind him, sealing his destiny, and he approached the awaiting coach, burdened with an emotion much less invigorating than enthusiasm. --------------------------------------------------

A trade freighter.

Allen found it somewhat amusing that he had not been granted official military transport for the half-day journey to Fort Castelo. Some commander had found the merchant ship in preparation for imminent take off to Fanelia and 'hitched' a ride for the knight. It was like receiving an ultimate, albeit insignificantly small, blow to his pride.

Not that he was uncomfortable aboard. The ship was certainly spacious, accommodating him, his bags and his ten meter high, five meter wide guymelef without problem. He just wished he could have made something of a marking departure, complete with theatricals, and subsequent impressive entrance to his new post.

Presently, he sat on a bed in the individual cabin that had been arranged for him, with an array of diverse reports sprayed in a wide circle in front of him. He had eight hours to learn what he needed to know about the position he would be taking, and his complete ignorance on what exactly was it that soldiers did in a place as isolate as Fort Castelo was not helping. He was not even sure which file to pick up first, though eventually he made up his mind and braved the task of assessing what was in store for him in the near future.

Fort Castelo had not been built recently, but neither was it an old outpost. It had been erected little over a century past, for very specific reasons. Firstly, because at the time the Alliance between Fanelia and Asturia had not yet been forged and the King was wary of leaving the borders next to the warrior neighbour completely unguarded. That purpose had all but vanished and instead Fort Castelo became a sort of last checkpoint for Asturian vessels before entering Fanelia, and, of course, Fanelian ones entering the country. Customs. Certainly not the kind of job that would require or even be as much as worthy of a Knight Caeli's attention. Much less life-long supervision.

In fact, as he skimmed through the records of the stationed soldiers that would serve under him, it quickly became apparent that it was hardly worth anyone's attention. If ever there was a scale to qualify the competence of soldiers and their general capability, Fort Castelo was home to those who scored below zero. Which meant it was sort of the army's trash bin.

Allen almost felt hurt at that thought, sarcastically speaking. He had nursed the idea that his superiors had had difficulty in finding a convenient place – a bad enough place – to send their disgraced knight and effectively be rid of him. Unbridled came the image of a general flipping through Allen's own records with a half glazed stare, and then dismissing them with a chuckle and a 'send him to Castelo', seconds after receiving them. Somehow, not having the satisfaction of knowing that the task of finding the wayward knight a suitable exile arrangement had at least been irksome, disheartened him and made everything seem a little worse than before.

Not for the tenth time that day, Allen Schezar sighed.

He was just memorizing some facts about these soldiers awaiting him, when a knock on the door signalled that Fort Castelo had come into view and the Captain had invited Allen to join him at the ship's bridge. The knight shuffled all the papers together, admitting to himself that it was not really that important to be able to distinguish between he who had made it a business out of smuggling goods during missions and the one who had engaged into a fight with his commander after deciding the man was not good enough commanding material for him and refusing to obey any and everything that came out of his mouth. In the end, Allen concluded, he would have to be cautious around everyone he came to meet, at least at first, and put his faith in good old military discipline. If he followed that, how difficult could it be?

The knight made his way through the old, unimpressive corridors following the man who had come to get him, finally entering the bridge of the ship soon afterwards, as the merchant Captain was giving his last minute instructions for the landing. Allen silently approached the view screen and got his first view of what would be his new home for a very long time. Fort Castelo. He had to make a conscious effort not to gawk too loudly.

It could be described, with startling accuracy, as the backyard of nowhere, no better than a junk deposit. By the sun and two moons, it was even worse than Allen's worst assumptions.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Captain nearing and turning his face to hide an amused chuckle. Apparently the gawking had come through his knightly mask. No wonder there. Indignation flared inside of him at the disrespectful treatment, nonetheless, and he faced the man. He could personally not care whether he was in Palas or Castelo right now, but he did care about the way he was treated. He was a knight and deserved respect, with perhaps an undertone of admiration, he conceded. He addressed him in clipped tones, intending to show both his dislike and his superiority through a flawless display of palatine manners.

"Is something the matter, Captain?"

"Oh, nothing at all, sir Allen," he replied, sobering up while bending forward in some mockery of a bow. There was something very unsettling about the man, but Allen could not be sure if it was originated from the act that was being directed at him or whether the captain was like this with everyone.

Allen had not given any thought to speaking with any of the personnel aboard before, preferring to lock himself in his cabin to sulk in peace for the duration of the trip. Now, though, he was regretting it. If only he had put two and two together earlier on, he might have done something of his eight hours and gathered information that would be useful. After all, these merchants were frequent visitors to Fanelia, and therefore, the outpost. It would have been interesting to hear a more personal insight into the people awaiting him on the ground.

"I was wondering, Captain. I imagine you pass through Fort Castelo rather frequently in your travels, is it not so?" The man emphatically acquiesced Allen, who did what he could in dismissing the image that was passing through: that of a man wizened by experience and tired of having to remind those younger than him of that very fact. He continued, still in the slightly harsh tone of the first acknowledgement, "Could you tell me what it is like at the Fort?"

"Ah, you don't have to worry about nothing, sir Allen", he said in full blown condescension. "Trouble doesn't come to these parts. No conflicts, no wars... there simply isn't anyone around for it to happen", he laughed and Allen tried to join in on the mirth. A tight-lipped stretch of muscles was the result. He really could not see the fun in the situation, especially not with that distrust of the man nagging him at the back of his head.

"The officer in charge, a sergeant Gaddes, I think. Do you happen to know him, Captain?"

"Aye, I know the bugger. Helped me out of some sticky situations before. He's a good man", he finished with the rather relaxed statement, which put Allen at such ease, he almost breathed in relief. He knew he would need a good second in command in order to settle nicely into place at the fort. Knowing this opinion did not eradicate all of his doubts about the post he would be taking, but it did give him hope that his new leadership would be well accepted. Who knew what conflicts could arise among their ranks if it was not so.

"Launching anchors!" The aide's bellow cut through the bridge and untangled his thoughts.

"You might want to get your things together, sir Allen. Wait by your guymelef while we land, so we can be quick to unload your cargo. We'll get you out in that Fort in no time." Allen nodded his thanks and went on his way. The sooner he was out, the sooner he would know what his superiors had planned for him.

As announced, the ship descended to a smooth landing and, within minutes' time, the clang of anchors was resounding in the hangar and the hatch had opened. Some merchants began operating the machinery to unload the knight's large guymelef, while Allen descended the ramp, in easy quick steps, to find himself fully engulfed in a forestal environment. The Captain joined him soon after.

The sound of the cooling engines and steam releases followed him as he entered the dense woods surrounding the landing site. The rustling of the leaves mingled with the squeaks and spasms of technology behind him and muffled his footsteps, suddenly reducing him to the humble individual that he was. Very little sun made it past the canopy above in this late hour, but the air was far from cool, like it would have been in Palas. There, the sea breeze would have been sweeping the skies; here, the atmosphere was loaded, saturated by moist and heat accumulated during the day.

"Very different from the city, isn't it?" The Captain said, closely studying the knight's features. Allen responded with a shake of the head. Strangely enough, this was the first time in a long time, long before receiving that fateful letter and even Marlene, that he had felt something akin to true peace.

He turned slowly towards the man, casting an inconsequential gaze at the ship that had brought him and, beyond it, at the high walls that fortified Castelo. The gates had opened and a small group of soldiers and equipment was making their way over. The serenity of the moment caused Allen to make a quick resolution, there and then; he needed to speak.

"You know, there was a time in my youth when I lived in woods not very unlike these. I used to love it then: the freedom, having nothing standing in my way, and living especially for the thrill of constantly testing one's limits. Then the most extraordinary thing happened: I was given a purpose."

The Captain had taken on an awkward look, like he was not exactly certain of what he had done to land himself on the receiving end of such confidences. He did not know what the knight wanted of him, what kind of answer he was expecting, and thus, he said nothing and let the pause soar between the two.

Allen, though, could not care less for any reaction he might elicit from the other. He chose to ignore the man altogether and stared at some far away point at the edge of the world. It was likely he would never see this man again, and that was what removed all the restraints he had placed upon himself. This had been troubling him throughout the day, he knew, but only now did he realise how much he really needed to get it out of his system. He was not elaborating on his speech too much, there were things that no one but him needed to know, but even this small partial admission was an important milestone for him, he could tell.

"I did not ask for it, I didn't even realise how much I needed it. It just came to me after a lucky encounter. It was around that time that I moved back to the city, to the abandoned building that had once been my home. Funnily enough," he laughed ironically, "I remember how much that sudden change disturbed me. Now I would do anything to go back to that. Retreating to the middle of nowhere again is just too strange. I can only hope I can cope fairly with the new turn of events."

A long silence ensued, occasionally pierced by some or other shouted instruction from the traders unloading cargo for the Fort. Allen had nothing more to say, feeling he had gone on enough, now that stress slowly made its way back to his circulation. The Captain also was unsure of how to make a reply to the kind of talk he had been privy. Steadily, the group from Castelo approached.

"Yes, it is very different from the city", the knight finally supplied. "We should go back to your fellows now. The Fort's escort is here."