Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Of Shadows and Light ❯ Chapter 1

Of Shadows and Light

Chapter One

A dark cloud descended upon Asturia. It had been such a hot day, so hot that the dust burned the skin. It had soiled Celena's day gown as she sat next to her brother's side. She was in hysterics, her hands covering her face to avoid from seeing ghastly amounts of blood seep through the doctor's thick cloths. She couldn't bear to watch what the man was doing, though her tears would have surely blinded her anyway. It seemed like years passed and there she was still, crying by her fallen brother's side, before she felt hands lifting her up by the arms and dragging her out of the dust filled arena. She looked over to her side and could barely recognize Denevive's face. He was speaking to her but she could not hear his words. She stumbled along with him, just reaching the shade of the pits, when her legs would carry her weight no longer and darkness came.

The next thing Celena knew when she awakened was that she was comfortable. She was laying down and it was a soft place to be; soft and warm. She didn't open her eyes for she felt light shining on her eyelids. One eye first to be safe, then the other. She was in her room, on her own bed. She sighed. Maybe it was all just a dream; a horrible, terrible dream. She would find her brother going about his day happily as if nothing had changed; because nothing had changed at all. Celena let those thoughts linger as she looked about her bed, examining the sheer material of the canopy. She felt the soft satin and velvet of her bedcovers. Her room was always so bright and cheery in such lovely daylight. Colors like pink and light blues and pale yellows helped to create the ambiance of cheer. She smiled and was tempted to just lay there to sleep some more.

She turned on her side, her hands digging underneath her head for extra pillow when she suddenly felt very grungy. Her hands flew out in front her and she almost yelped at their sight. Her hands were dirty and still sticky with sweat that had dried long before. Sitting up quickly, she looked down at her gown and narrowed her eyes when she saw ripped seams at the bottom of the skirt and dust stains on the pink fabric. She pulled back the skirt to see her boots but they had been removed earlier and she only saw her slim foot. However, what she saw was enough evidence to tell her it had not been a dream. Scrambling over the side of the bed, Celena was on her feet and suddenly dazed as blood rushed into her head telling her to move slower. She pushed on to the door despite the dizziness, grabbing the handle for a moment to hold herself steady before opening.

Out in the hall, she paid no heed to the passing maid or the nurse leaving her brother's room next door to hers. Before she knew it, Celena found herself at his door with her hand trembling as it was poised over the knob. She shook her head, pulling her hand back and forcing herself to breath. If it was truth, she didn't want to know; didn't want to see it. For a long time, she only stood there, facing the deep colored wood of Allen's bedroom door. She wouldn't dare open it.

"I said excuse me, deary." said the plump nurse. Slowly, Celena turned her head and saw the nurse's fat rosy cheeks and chin. Her face looked as if it was being pushed through the tiny face hole in her wimple, a lock of curly golden hair falling over the side of her face. She seemed a little annoyed but still patient. When Celena hadn't moved, the nurse simply pushed passed her and swung the door open wide. The young girl couldn't help but follow with her eyes and held the door open before it shut again.

It was so much darker in his room, the thick curtains drawn to keep out the bright late morning sunshine. By design, his room was darker anyway as the walls were papered with deep blue and the wood for his furniture was mahogany. Celena's bare feet met with the rug on the hard wood floor and was pleasantly surprised by the soft feel of it's stitching. It was certainly more comfortable as her knees felt the rug and soon the palm of her hands, to keep from falling over as her energy drained. She could just barely see over the edge of the four post bed in front of her. Allen lay asleep, his hair gathered from under him and placed off to the side so it wouldn't get caught. All Celena could see was his pale face as the covers of his thick bedspread were drawn up to his chin. The world was muted around her and again she did not hear the nurse speaking to her. The plump woman must have given up and tried to lift Celena up by her arm, similar to the way she was dragged out of the arena.

"Leave me be!" She nearly screamed when the nurse dared touch her, thrashing her arm as she loosened the older woman's hold. On her own volition, she stood again from the soft rug, her eyes fixed on Allen's prone form.

"You mustn't be in here, young lady." said the nurse gently, a tone of impatience entering her voice.

Celena did not hear, or at least if she had she did not show any recognition. She took staggered steps towards her brother's bedside, slowly making her way around and gripping the posts for support. She hovered over him, blood rushing wildly into her skull and her heart thumping against her chest like a heavy drum. He was so pale, she noted. She could not help her face contorting into a look of pain and guilt as she stared at Allen's closed eyes, wishing they were open. She wanted to see their brilliant blue color again but had to wonder if they would ever be so brilliant as before now that . . .

Her hands reached for the bedspread, feeling the soft texture of the deep blue velvet. It was as soft as the one on her own bed. She closed her eyes and scolded herself for the detour in her thoughts. This is not what she came here for; she came to see for herself if everything that had happened truly had occurred. Her body was shaking, her hands losing strength in her nervousness. She pulled back the covers.

"No." She choked when she saw it. "Gods, no!"

Allen lay bare chested save the enormous amounts of linen bandages about his front and his right side. Down his shoulder the bandages grew thicker around what remained of his right arm, stopping a few inches above where his elbow would have been. Except for the few inches left of the appendage, Allen's right arm was gone.

Celena stared for a moment until her eyes couldn't take the pain any longer and she tugged the bedspread back over his front. Her breath was shaking as she prepared herself to speak to the nurse. "How long . . .?"

"Since yesterday, miss." replied the nurse readily. "And you've been out for almost as long as he has. The poor dear," she added, casting a sad glance to the fallen knight.

"Why - what . . ." She couldn't release herself from her shock, her voice choking only frustrating her all the more. She whispered painfully, "Where's his arm?"

"Oh, dear, miss. It was disposed of. No good to the lad now." If this nurse showed any remorse for what Allen or Celena was going through, she certainly hid it well.

"Couldn't you sew it back on him?"

"Why, no. Impossible."

"Why?!" She demanded, a little too loudly and the sound made her cringe. Not that she was afraid of waking her brother for he would most likely stay asleep for quite a while no matter what sort of racket when on.

"Honestly, girl. You can't sew on a severed limb and expect it to work properly. It's impossible." The fat woman stood there with her hands folded in front of her as if she were giving Celena the privilege of dealing with a seemingly patient nurse. Celena only narrowed her eyes before looking down at her brother's slumbering face again.

"What will become of him?" She asked softly, "By the gods - he can't live like this! He's too young to live like this." She knelt by his bedside, her knees unable to support her again as she lost her resolve and covered her face. "Twenty two years old and he's - Gods, why did this have to happen? It's my fault! I shouldn't have - shouldn't have interfered! "

"Come along, miss." said the nurse apathetically, taking the girl by the shoulders to help her onto her feet. "You mustn't be in here, now."

"Why mustn't I? I'm his sister! He needs me!" She tried to push the fat old nurse away but her strength was spent and she could hardly stand again.

"He doesn't need a hysterical girl roaming about his room!" scolded the nurse. It took the woman's every effort to push Celena out of the room. "Now, leave him to his rest. He's suffered enough already." As soon as Celena was out the door, the nurse shut and locked it. Celena didn't even try to go back. She couldn't think of what to do, not after this; after what she had done to Allen. At least he was alive. But that thought wasn't much consolation for what did he have to live for now? A life without his sword arm; ironically a life without his way of life.

"Miss?" spoke a soft voice, shaking Celena's shoulder's gently. "Miss, please . . ." The maid was met by a red-eyed stare. "Can I help you off the floor, miss?"

Celena laughed bitterly. "I'm beginning to become accustomed to the damned place."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing, Jeyla. Where's Misshel?" She stood, swaying unsteadily as she tried to regain her balance. "I want to - take a bath."

"I'll have a bath prepared for you right away, miss." responded the maid promptly, leaving quickly to do as she was told.

The bath was little less than relaxing. The warm water seemed too cold, she trembled furiously with every lathering stroke of the rosewater scented soap. Everything was wrong; all of it dark and terribly wrong. Not even pacing about her room seemed to comfort her, as it was something her brother did constantly when he grew nervous. Celena certainly never thought she would be one to pace when it only made her uncomfortable. With a sigh, she sat on the edge of her bed, pushing her wet silvery hair behind an ear as it had drooped over her eyes.

She couldn't stay there all day. She had to leave the house. So it was finally decided that she ride into Palas. The white and silver mare she rode upon was ever faithful in being Celena's steed. Most times, Celena considered the horse her only friend besides those who worked at her house. Mystic was a good horse and her owner always tried to make sure she was treated well. Though, that day she could not help but push the horse hard as it galloped full speed through the forest. Once she entered the city, she had to be careful not to trample pedestrians that roamed in the early afternoon. Without really thinking about it, she rode to the stables just on the edge of town to hitch her horse.

Wandering was usually for those who had no direction and it made Celena wonder as she moped about the city streets if her life would be this way from now on. It was not she who had lost her arm and yet it effected her much more than she could imagine. There was a pit in her stomach at the thought of her brother living his life the way he was now. More than likely, she would have to be there for him to help with whatever he needed. She took in a sharp breath, choking suddenly as tears stung her eyes. Once he had been so capable, so strong. Now he'll be crippled and helpless for the rest of his life!

The girl didn't notice the occasional stares directed towards her as she passed, for she had covered her face in a vain attempt to hide her tears and muffle her sobs.

"Lady Celena!" called a tenor voice from ahead of her. She knew that voice and it surprised her to the point where she bothered to look at the speaker.

"S-sir Denevive," she sniffed, using the back of her hand to wipe her face. "What are you doing here?"

The young brunette samurai approached her, regarding her with a gaze full of sadness to match her own. "I couldn't stand the palace right now. It's chaos there." Gently, he took her hand and kissed it. "My lady - I do not know how to approach this subject but . . . how fares your brother?"

Celena honestly didn't know how to speak to this man about Allen's condition. After all, this was all his doing and for that reason she felt as if she should blame Denevive as much as herself for what had happened. Curiously enough, she did not. "Unconscious still. I - don't know when he'll awaken, really." She covered her mouth, closing her eyes. Why was it so painful? She was stronger than that, wasn't she?

Upon seeing her distress, for a moment Denevive panicked. The relationship between them was delicate to say the least but he could never stand to see a lady so upset. He embraced her tenderly and was pleasantly surprised when she did not pull away. Briefly he wondered if he should whisper words of comfort into her soft hair but found he did not know of any comforting words to give.

"Curse the gods for what they have done." she sobbed, clutching the man who held her and pressing her cheek into his shoulder. "Curse me for meddling with fate! Curse that damned King Aston. . ."

"It's not good to speak ill of the dead." Denevive found himself saying, his voice soft. Without missing a beat, he heard Celena scoff and could have sworn that she even laughed slightly, albeit full of bitterness and scorn.

"He's dead, huh?" She sneered, "Good."

"Celena. . ."

"Good, I say!" She pulled back with a hard jerk, glaring at Denevive, "I'm glad to be rid of that madman! For look what he has wrought upon my family! Upon my beloved brother! My - beloved . . . crippled . . ." She whimpered, feeling her knees about to buckle from underneath. Denevive had been trying to quiet her announcements before tactfully noticing her sudden sign of weakness and catching her before she fell to the ground.

"Please, my lady," he pleaded gently, "you are distraught and you must not speak such things out in the middle of the street. Allow me to take you home, where you can rest properly."

"My horse . . ." She said into his shoulder, looking just over it and passed his long hair towards the palace. Black flags were flying at every spire, mourning the loss of the nation's ruler. She wanted to burn them. She wanted revenge, to justify Allen's accident. However, with all these thoughts in tow, it weakened her all the more and she found herself sagging against the young samurai. "I don't want to go home. Not yet."

Denevive sighed, still holding the girl up. "Well, we can't stay in the middle of the street and the palace is in a complete state of disarray." He realized he was about to offer to buy her a stiff drink and for a moment, rejected the idea completely for she was a gentle lady of the court. Then he remembered how furiously she had fought him during the duel just the day before. Still a lady but certainly not gentle when it came down to it. "Perhaps we can -"

"I need a drink or two. Lucky for us there's a respectable Inn right down this street." Said the girl wearily, "If that's alright with you, Sir Denevive."

Denevive pulled back long enough to eye her warily, wondering if perhaps it was mere coincidence that she had offered. He gave her a slight smile and nodded.

A respectable Inn and tavern usually meant that it was an establishment visited by the more popular middle class. The benefits of this usually included less bar fights for middle class businessmen always had more important things to worry about - like their money purse. People who came to the Dragon's Tooth Inn were likely to attend events at the city's Stadium as well. Needless to say that there were many whispers among the patrons when Celena entered and Denevive close behind her. The two tried to ignore all the stares cast their way as they found a table with a good amount of solitude and ordered drinks in peace.

Celena stared down at her reflection in her wine glass, trying not to notice Denevive's intense gaze upon her. "What is it, Denevive?" she asked, trying not to sound as exasperated as she felt.

Denevive blushed a bit, looking down and letting out a brief chuckle, "I suppose you could say I'm - admiring the view?"

"Please. Spare me the romance. I'm in poor spirits for it."

"Poor spirits. You've spirits right in front of you. Drink your fill then." He glanced at her, lifting his eyebrow. Celena glared at first but soon gave into a small smile creeping onto her charming face.

"You're not supposed to make me feel better." she argued, knowing her point was weak.

"Oh?" he dared to counter, "Then perhaps I'll simply leave you in poor spirits and take the rest of what you've got in your goblet."

Celena tightened her grip around her cup, gulping down the stinging liquid just as he had reached across the table. With a satisfied sigh, she slammed the empty goblet down. "Quite alright. I'll take what I've got."

Denevive mirrored her actions and downed his own wine in a single drink. "Well, then. Are your spirits lifting yet?"

"Not yet. I think I'll order more though." Denevive readily complied, calling over the barmaid and having their goblets refilled. "Thank you." Celena said to Denevive after their drinks her refreshed.

"For what?"

Celena lifted her drink and gave him a look that meant he should have known. "For the drinks."

He only laughed at her statement. "Do you realize we've been talking about drinks for the past few minutes now? It's as if we haven't anything better to discuss."

"Honestly, what have we got to discuss?"

"Well," he began, thinking for a moment. "I don't really know much about you. And you nothing of me. Aside from the sword arts."

Celena had to remind herself just who she was speaking to and what they both have done. Her brother lay unconscious at home, missing an appendage and here she was consorting with the man who took that appendage! Even though these thoughts were in mind, she didn't really blame Denevive for Allen's accident; not as much as she blamed herself. Why was she here? She should be at home, shouldn't she? If that were the case, she still didn't want to be there. She didn't want to be reminded of what her brother will go through from now on. She just wanted to forget.

"Celena?"

"What?" She snapped her gaze back to the samurai.

"I believe you were what they call 'lost in thought'. Is this true?" He asked.

Celena smiled sheepishly, gazing down at her folded hands on the table. "Yes, I suppose it is."

"What were you thinking of?" His voice was soft and sincere and Celena had to wonder why he cared so much about her. Why did he even try?

"My brother." she answered. She couldn't lie to him. There was no point in it. "I - understand that it . . . it really wasn't your fault. It was mine for jumping into something I wasn't supposed to."

"Celena," he took a breath, "you were so very brave for what you did. You risked your life to save his. I admire you for that, really. And I commend you swordsmanship."

"My brother taught me." she said with a proud smile, "Well, sort of. I watched him a lot of the time before he approved training me."

He was about to comment on her brother's skill but decided that it would be best to veer away from that topic of discussion. He could tell, just by looking into the girl's eyes that hurt was on the horizon, lingering near her like a serpent ready to strike. Her spirit was very fragil indeed and if he was to try and win her heart at all, he should be more cautious. But something changed just then - the look in her eyes - that made him realize she was studying him.

"What . . .?" She said with a half-smile. She scrunched up her nose in her curiosity, reaching across the small table to his face. He jerked away suddenly, covering the side of his head with his hand. She frowned and pulled back her hand. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right." he assured, making sure his long hair covered the sides of his head and, more importantly, his ears. He laughed to himself, realizing there's probably no point in hiding it now.

"I just noticed - how unusual your ears are. . . not that I would notice your ears before. I never really thought to look but . . ." She gazed at him again after he removed his hands from covering his ears and she smiled slightly as she saw the subtle tips of them.

"It is unusual, isn't it?" he asked with a smile, pushing back his hair behind his revealed ears.

"Denevive," she began carefully, "why are your ears pointed like that?"

The young man couldn't help but smile at how well she was already taking this small detail of his. He leaned in close to her over the table, his face bright and his violet eyes sparkling in the soft lantern-lit tavern. "Promise not to tell anyone?" When he saw her nod slightly, enjoying her beautiful smile, he leaned in closer still and lowered his voice so that only she may hear him. "I'm half elven."