Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Asturia: Love and Duty ❯ ch 16 ( Chapter 16 )

Please note, we have assumed Plactu to be a kind of title, much like the Pope, the Dalai Lama, or the President of the United States.

Final notes, we know that some are you are wondering just how did Allen arrive in time to save Eries. Most of it is revealed here. It's just that in that prev. chapter we wanted you to experience things as they unfolded for Eries.

Allen stood by the window of the Starsong's lower observation area. He watched as the moonlit landscape drifted by below. All was quiet aboard the high speed levi-ship save the drone of the ship's engines in the background. It was very late.

The ship was in Freidan airspace bound back to Asturia. After leaving Eries, Allen had done what he could for the injured and kept guard over the second doppleganger until help, in the form of the Head of the Royal Guards, Caeli Timothy Wintermute, and a small squadron of palace guards, arrived. After Allen briefed them and answered a few of Sir Timothy's questions, Timothy made a request to Allen. The Princess believed that Plactu's powers would be necessary to bring the complete truth to light. She also was of the opinion, and Sir Timothy concurred, that time was of the essence. However, Sir Timothy was about to have his hands full taking the doppleganger prisoner and rounding up the "Minister Jorel's" associates for questioning. Allen was of high enough rank to act on behalf of the kingdom and was already fully aware of the situation. Would he be willing to fly to Freid immediately to request the services of Plactu?

Allen readily agreed and, borrowing a castle mount, galloped to the military's airship yard. Within an hour, the crew for the Starsong had been scrambled, and they were en route to Godashim. Aware of the urgency of their mission, the crew pushed the ship to her limits and arrived in Godashim in record time. It was about midnight when the Starsong touched down in Freid.

The unexpected arrival of the Asturians caused an understandable stir at the Freid palace. Duke Sid was roused from his slumber to greet the delegation and inquire of the reason for their unannounced visit. All of his drowsiness evaporated when Allen gave him the news. He immediately gave his consent and insisted on the accompanying them back to Asturia for the interrogation. Whatever information the doppleganger might have might have implications for Freid, he explained. But, as Allen watched the little Duke readying for the flight and urging Brother Patel and the rest of the Freid guard to make haste, Allen strongly suspected that Sid's concern for his aunt was perhaps a greater incentive for him to go to Palas.

As the Starsong was faster than any craft the still-struggling Freid dukedom possessed, Sid and an armed escort of 14 warrior monks boarded the Asturian ship. Perhaps it was excessive, but the Freidans had learned a lesson the hard way with the murder of the previous Plactu. They were determined not to repeat their mistake.

The Starsong lifted off that same night and traveled on to Plactu's temple in Divina. They arrived at midday and found a cheerful monk in his late teens waiting expectantly at the gate of the temple. It was Plactu. To their astonishment, he was ready with his few items packed beside him. He told them that he had had a dream, a vision that he would be needed in a far off place. The Freidans murmured in assent while the Asturians stood speechless, clearly rattled and a little weirded out by the enigmatic man.

Weird or not, it saved them time and effort. And so now, they were headed back to Asturia, far ahead of schedule. Throughout the journey, Allen had had little opportunity for rest. But now everyone was on board and informed of the situation, and Sid's men were available and quite capable of assisting with shifts. Brother Patel had all but thrown Allen out of the bridge and told him to get some sleep.

Allen was bone tired. By all rights, he should be fast asleep in the quarters where even now Natal perched, deep in her own dreams. But sleep eluded him.

He leaned his forehead against the cool plate of glass. Closing his eyes, he drew in a long slow breath and let it out as a prolonged sigh.

Focus on the breath. Calm the heart.

It was a meditative practice Vargas had taught him. In order to hone the spirit, it was necessary to clear the mind of worldly, distracting thoughts.

Inhale. Exhale. In. Out.

Inhale. Exhale. In. Out.

Inhale. Exhale. In. Out.

growl

It was not working.

It failed him now, just as it had failed him more often than not during his quiet hours at Fort Castello.

Perhaps then, it was a blessing that quiet time at Castello was a rare thing. Reconstructing the fort with crews of less than enthusiastic men with varying levels of work ethic and little outside support was enough to keep three men occupied. In many ways, it resembled Allen's early days commanding at the previous Fort Castello. But at least then, they had had the luxury of sturdy walls and a working infrastructure. Gaining his men's respect, ensuring that the construction of the fort actually progressed, maintaining order by breaking up the frequent drunken brawls, and ensuring that security was sufficiently tight to protect his men and to prevent the theft of their goods and construction supplies occupied all of Allen's time and energy.

But then again that had been what he had wanted. Distance and diversion to keep him from thinking of the one who had written the letter and drawn the seascape which he had buried at the bottom of his trunk of belongings.He did not know why he had brought the letter and sketch with him. They were strong reminders of her. Many times, he had stopped and stared at his trunk and wished that he had left them both in Palas. But he had not been able to keep himself from bringing them along. So, there they had lain, hidden from view, but always close at hand.

Allen opened his eyes and looked at his image reflected faintly in the window pane. "What am I going to do?" he asked himself out loud. He had been so certain, so driven, so resolute when he had left the Castello a week ago when the caravan had brought the news from the capitol.

Fort Castello was essentially in the middle of nowhere. There were a handful of hamlets and beastmen settlements in the vicinity but nothing substantial for at least a day's ride away. Leviship traffic generally traveled over the Castello, more so now that the facility was not exactly in working order. The only visitors to the area, aside from the occasional highwayman or thief, were the yak pack caravans passing between Asturia and Fanelia. They stayed at the Castello for protection and a chance to refill their canteens. Fresh work crews coming to the Castello and those that had completed their stints came and left with these caravans as well because safety generally increased with numbers. In addition, the caravans brought supplies unavailable nearby, but not large or urgent enough to warrant leviship transport. And they brought news.

Unless it was an alert of an impending attack underway, it was not uncommon for events to be a month old before reaching the ears of the Castello inhabitants. So it was two weeks after the fact that Eries' betrothal to Dryden Fassa was announced to the Castello.

Eager for any excuse to imbibe, the crews immediately left work and rolled out the kegs, to "drink to her Highness's happiness as loyal Asturian subjects should." Allen made no effort to stop them. In fact, he too felt an irresistible, though uncharacteristic, urge to drink himself into a blind stupor, but for entirely different reasons.

So while his men, joined by the members of the yak pack, passed ale and vino around, danced and laughed, sang and fought, belched and partied, and made a drunken boisterous commotion, Sir Allen discreetly spirited several bottles of vino from the celebration and slipped away from the crowd.

In the privacy of the Fort Commander's quarters, a small room at the end of the barracks barely large enough to accommodate himself and Natal, Allen proceeded to get spectacularly wasted, as it were. He downed the contents of five bottles in quick succession.

He had been reaching for a sixth bottle sitting on his desk when he clumsily knocked the bottle and a book onto the floor. The bottle rolled away to the other end of the room. Allen sighed and bent to pick up the book at his feet.

Bleary-eyed, he noted the cover of the book. It was his father's journal.

"Having a private pity party, aren't we, son?"

Allen turned to see his father, or rather, his father's phantom, sitting on his bed in his travel clothes. At any other time, Allen might have dismissed the specter as a hallucination, but in his state of mind at the time (that is, pickled) anything was probable.

"That's not what this is," replied Allen flatly. Deliberately turning away from his father, Allen replaced the journal onto his desk with a thud.

"Oh ho. So why is it that you're not out there with the others?" Leon gestured out the window to the jolly drunken merriment taking place outside. "It's not as if it has ever been beneath you to join in their company."

"It's because--because I don't think there's a reason for celebration. Because I think Eries deserves better. Dryden doesn't deserve to be with someone like her. She deserves..."

"Someone else? Perhaps you know of someone better?"

"Stop baiting me!" cried Allen miserably, slamming his hands on the desk.

His chest heaved at the turmoil churning within him. His voice trembled with emotion. "I'm not... we're not... she's already refused me. She doesn't want... me."

"How do you know?" asked Leon calmly.

"Because she told me so herself! Because--" Allen knocked his trunk over, emptying the contents onto the floor. He picked up Eries' letter and trust it into his father's face.

"Because she wrote this in her own hand!"

Leon looked at the letter and then up at his son's anguished face.

"How do you know she was being completely forthright with you? Especially since you haven't been honest with her."

"I..." Allen withdrew his arm and stared at the letter in his hand as if seeing it for the first time.

Leon regarded his son pensively. "It's amazing how much people in this world hurt themselves and the others around them by living life as a lie. Often they do it thinking that they'll protect themselves that way, and be less vulnerable to hurt. But, in the end, you lose so much of yourself and cheat the others around you so much that it really is a sorry bargain."

"Remember what I told you before, Allen. Be true to yourself. Be honest to yourself and those around you. And perhaps they may be truthful in return." Leon rose to leave.

"She's not lost to you. Yet."

Leon smiled at his son and disappeared.

"Father..."

The next thing Allen knew was that he was lying on the floor of his room, the afternoon sun streaming through the window. Some vino bottles littered the floor as did the contents of his overturned trunk. Natal had gone so far as to take the liberty of making a little nest for herself in one of his spare shirts. Allen groaned and hauled himself into sitting position. As he did so, his hand brushed against something. He looked down. Out of its protective tubing and rolled flat beside him was Eries' drawing.

Allen felt his heart swell within him.

In record time, Allen had placed his second in command in charge of the fort and was riding towards Palas with Natal flying alongside him. Not that it had been the easiest task in the world. Wolf Masterson was an indispensable assistant, though much more awkward and self-conscious than Gaddes. But even he had caroused with abandon the previous day. It was an effort to locate the normally reliable sergeant, passed out beneath a table and sprinkled with nutshells, and another effort to make it clear that it was his responsibility to take charge of Castello. However, Allen had already let so much time slip by, he was not about to let anything hold him back. He was driven by an overwhelming determination to confess to Eries what should have been said much, much earlier.

Until he found Eries going to Dryden under cover of darkness.

Dryden was a longtime friend of Eries. However, knowing what he knew of Meiden and Dryden, Allen left Castello certain that the betrothal was purely political. But--

He did not want to believe it, but he had seen her going to Dryden's yard alone with his own eyes. Allen could only think of ONE reason why a woman of Eries' rank would visit a man at night unescorted...

Allen had been more than happy to comply with Sir Timothy's request to go to Freid. It was inevitable that he would be summoned into Eries' presence again before he could retreat back to Castello. But at least he had some time to figure out what to do next.

Could he still even tell her? Was it just a lost cause now? Should he not complicate matters for all involved and simply acknowledge that someone else had found a place in her heart and try to content himself with her happiness? However, the fact that he had been in Palas when he should have been at Castello was sure to arouse her suspicion. He had given Sir Timothy an explanation for his presence in the capitol, but she was certain to see through it. But, perhaps she didn't care, preferred not to have anything to do with him, and had meant what she said in her letter. Part of Allen wondered if she had specifically asked Sir Timothy to send him to Freid because his presence disconcerted her.

These thoughts chased each other around and around in his head. The internal debate had intensified as they left Divina and voyaged on to Asturia. Not even physical exhaustion had been enough to quiet his mind. After leaving the bridge, Allen had futilely lain in bed for a few restless hours. When sleep refused to come, he arose and went to the observation window adjacent his cabin to try to silence in his over active brain.

Not that it had worked.

Allen stifled a sudden urge to bang his head repeatedly against the window.

"Allen? You're still up?"

Allen turned to see Sid with four guards in tow in the narrow aisle. Sid had been praying with Plactu in the nearby conference room, which the Freidans had temporarily rearranged for use as a meditation space.

"I have some things on my mind."

Sid nodded empathetically. "I understand." He hesitated briefly and tentatively asked, "Allen, if you don't mind, could I have a word with you? In private?"

"Certainly." Allen turned to the head of Sid's bodyguard. "If you will allow me, Brother Rei, I can escort the Duke back to your quarters when we are done." The protective monk nodded, and Sid dismissed the guards. With a salute, a pressing of palms over their hearts, the guards left to go to their cabin on the level below. Allen gestured Sid towards his cabin, and opened the door.

Awakened by the sound of the door opening and the sight of her master in the light of the hallway, Natal flew over to her customary place on Allen's shoulder. The sudden sound of Natal's wings coming from the dark interior of the room startled Sid. With a cry, he jumped back, drawing his saber before him .

"Don't worry. It's just Natal," reassured Allen. Ever the swordsman, Allen could not help but take note of Sid's movements and posture. Brothers Kaja and Patel were teaching their young Duke well. Sid's reflexes were good for his age. He would become a fine swordsman someday, thought Allen with pride.

[Sountrack 3, track 15, Again]

With a sigh of relief, Sid lowered his guard. It was a remarkable change. One moment, his jaw was set firm, his face tense, his eyes steady, ready to run down his unknown opponent; the next he looked like any 10-year-old boy shaken by an awful scare.

Allen lit the cabin lamp. The room was small; the only pieces of furniture were a bed, a wooden table and chair, and the lamp mounted to the wall. He motioned Sid to sit on his bed. The duke sheathed his weapon, and pulling off the jeweled headgear that marked him as the ruler of Freid, lowered himself onto the thin mattress. He ran his hand through his wavy blond hair. He looked younger without his crown on, thought Allen as he closed the door. Allen resettled Natal on her perch at the footboard of the bed. Boy and bird studied each other.

"She saved your Aunt's life," said Allen, observing the two watching each other as he seated himself on the chair. Sid broke his gaze with the owl and turned to Allen.

"What do you mean?"

"The doppleganger would have killed her for certain if Natal hadn't flown and interfered until I could reach them."

It was true. After Allen had seen Eries enter Dryden's yard, he had all but run in the other direction. Allen's resolve had disappeared, and he was unsure of what to do next. He had stopped some distance away on that desolate road to wallow in his misery. It was fortunate that he had stopped, because he had been just within earshot to hear Eries' screams and positioned to see her dangling over the bridge. He had sprung immediately into action, hoping against hope that he would make it in time. He wasn't going to make it when he saw Eries being dragged over the railing, and he had sent Natal to engage the enemy. Ever obedient to the commands of her master, the owl had swooped upon the doppleganger with beak and claw. The aerial skirmish was short, but it bought Allen enough time to close the remaining distance between them.

If he had not been close enough to hear--if Natal had not been with him--if he had not made it in time... the very thought of what the outcome could have been almost made Allen physically ill.

For Allen, it had been a strange mixture of emotions when Eries had awakened. Relief that she was alive. Sweetness at having her in his arms. Sadness at knowing that he had rescued her only to let her out of his life again. That brief moment had turned even more bitter when she had uttered Dryden's name.

Sid turned his attention back to Natal. He eyed the bird with a new measure of respect. Pressing his palms together, he bowed in a gesture of gratitude before Natal. "Thank you. For saving her life." For a long moment, dark, wise eyes locked with wide blue ones.

"And," said Sid, turning towards Allen, "thank you for rescuing her."

Allen simply nodded. He did not trust his voice enough to respond.

"Aunt Eries, she means a lot to me. I'm more grateful than you can imagine. But. It's scary to think that she could have been taken." Sid shuddered and stared at the floor. He looked even smaller and more vulnerable. "And it makes it worse that dopplegangers are involved. When you said they were trying to kill her and Dryden, I couldn't help thinking about the one that killed the old Plactu, and how things changed after that. It's childish of me, but when I hear of dopplegangers, I can't help but think of the beginning of the end of my father's dukedom."

"But you ARE a child..." Allen thought sadly, wishing that he could reach out and comfort his son.

"I talked to Plactu about it after prayers. He told me that there isn't much any one person can do to manipulate the outcome of these things. Humans like to think that they're in control but in the end, only heaven knows what will happen. The best we can do is prepare as well as we can--and pray. Though it is natural for us to worry, worry doesn't really accomplish anything."

"Allen," Sid straightened, his demeanor now serious, and looked up at the knight. "I want to ask a favor of you. This incident... it might be something of little consequence or it can be large enough to destroy a kingdom. All of us are hoping that Plactu will be able to get some answers from your prisoner. If... if it turns out that the worst should happen, promise me that you will protect my Aunt."

Protect Eries. So that was Sid's wish. As soon as he heard Sid's request, Allen knew that it was his as well. He could not refuse. Not simply for the sake of duty, chivalry, and honor, but for love as well. Even if her love had gone to another, he still wanted to safeguard her well-being and happiness, even if it meant his own unhappiness. He knew that he could not forget her. Avoidance was futile, distance meant nothing; his time at the Castello had taught him that.

But to do so meant that his true feelings for her would be left unspoken. If he told her, if she knew of his true feelings, she could decide that the situation was too uncomfortable and have him transferred away. He could not risk that. He would not risk that. He would find a way, somehow, to hold it all within him. Allen had lost his chance. Though it would be painful to see her with Dryden, Allen wanted to be near her, to protect her, as far as he was able.

Allen kneeled before the little Duke. "I promise."

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