Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Secrets ❯ Training ( Chapter 11 )

Secrets

Chapter Eleven

Training

An: And again, we have fun in the training room…

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If she spent another minute listening to Dilandau go over the theory of melef fighting, Celena swore she'd scream. Honestly, she was a Schezar; she wasn't completely clueless about guymelefs. But added to that was the fact that she had some of his memories of lessons he had learnt. She knew things by instinct that any novice could never have even guessed half of the basics of her knowledge.

"The Crima claw, one of your most lethal weapons, is made up of…Celena, are you listening to me?" Dilandau asked, seeing the expression of total boredom on her face. "Despite the fact that you are fighting for my life, it's yours that's on the line here. If you get injured, it'll be your fault."

"I doubt you'd mind."

"Oh, I would. Without you around, they'd have me dead sooner than later."

"Why thank you, it's so nice to see that I mean so much to you," Celena snarled. Her patience was wearing thin. It was close to noon and she still hadn't even touched a guymelef yet.

"Let's just get this moving," Dilandau said. He was tired of bickering and it hadn't even been an entire minute yet.

He'd been trying his hardest to explain everything he knew about guymelefs even though he knew that Celena knew most of what he was talking about. He was more than unenthusiastic about the thought of having to deal with Schezar if he put Celena in a position she couldn't get herself out of and if she was injured…Dilandau wasn't sure he could run fast enough.

"Very well, my Lord," Celena conceded, "Where do we start?"

"For 'practicals', we begin with basic fencing skills," Dilandau began in what was obviously his 'teacher' voice. "I know that you know something about this," he continued, his tone slightly mocking. Celena snorted indignantly. Ignoring her he continued on, seemingly oblivious.

"Now, take this," he said handing her a long, lightweight, sword, "and go through your paces."

"What?"

"Go through your paces," he answered. She knew what he was talking about. "Start with prime and move your way through. NOW!"

Jumping in surprise at the unexpected bark from Dilandau, Celena almost whimpered but then realised that she had to prove she could handle what she had gotten herself into. If she was weak enough to cry at a little snap like that, she wasn't fit to battle and Allen would never accept the fact that she had grown up any other way. Sniffing slightly, she pulled herself up straight, closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to remember exactly what it was that Folken had called 'prime'.

********

"PRIME! QUINTE! STOP! Stay there," Dilandau ordered. Celena froze; this position had been giving her trouble from the time they began.

For the past hour and a quarter they had been going through her paces. At first she had started of by doing them one by one, in sequence with frequent pauses for Dilandau to scrutinize each position. He was like a suppressed student who had finally gotten in control of a class. Celena could see the glee in his eyes as he located faults in her stance, technique and grip. She surmised that it also reminded him of his Dragonslayer days when he trained with his men. She had to read adjust almost everything when he was done but she realised somewhat begrudgingly, that he knew what he was doing.

Every time he changed something, she became a little more comfortable with it. She found that she was more relaxed every time he altered something. He seemed to know which muscles she was using unnecessarily and which she wasn't using at all simply by looking at the angle of her blade. After about a half hour of one position per five minutes, Dilandau insisted they go through them in sequence with as little interruption as possible at the fastest pace possible. So for the next fifteen minutes straight, she moved from prime to octave non-stop, over and over.

Despite having worked for the better part of an hour, Celena still had not broken a sweat and was acutely aware of the fact that she was not remotely tired. Unfortunately, she seemed to think too soon for just then Dilandau decided to take it to the next level. He began calling out random position. He started slowly so that she could pick up a rhythm for her then jerky movements but picked up speed rapidly as time progressed. Within ten minutes, Celena found she had broken a sweat that rivalled some of her worst fevers.

She realised that she had never felt more tired in than in the last five minutes. That sudden tiredness was displaying itself and she hated it. It made her weak and if there was one thing she didn't need, it was for Dilandau to think that she was weak and unable to handle what she'd gotten herself into. If he did, he might just give himself up then she'd loose everything she'd worked so hard for over the past few months and the only person who truly knew and could possibly understand her. He would loose the only person who understood -and at the moment, considering what she was doing for him, she would even venture to say- loved him, in a supposedly friendly way, of course. Allen would probably lose his hair before he allowed her to get remotely romantically involved with Dilandau Albatou. So, sucking it in, she continued on, ignoring aching muscles and screaming joints.

Dilandau, however, was not oblivious to Celena's state and admired her for her diligence and determination. But it worried him that she was able to get so tired in such a short period of time. But if she wanted to win, and he knew she knew she had to win, she couldn't get tired so fast. She hadn't made mistake yet but there it was, her very first.

He was going to have to be tough on her; it wasn't only his life that he was worried about but hers too. He had studied the black Alsedies in the hanger earlier when Celena had been called off to somewhere or the other. Apparently there was some problem with one of the kitchen staff supposedly a young and foolish maid who was obviously incompetent. She would long have been killed on the Vione.

Dilandau scowled when Celena insisted that she be allowed to go and assist the idiot. While examining the melef, he had found that certain openings in certain places could be fatal if they were taken advantage of by an opponent. Although these openings would only have done minor damage on any other guymelef, he knew the Alsedies model and realized that if Celena's stance was off and Fanel saw it, what he considered to be a minor hit could actually cause massive damage to both the Alsedies and Celena that Dilandau himself didn't particularly want to think about.

Returning to the present, Dilandau realized that whenever Celena stepped into 'quinte' he was looking directly at one of those fatal openings and thus he had to get rid of it.

"Move the blade up a little…NO! TOO MUCH!" he practically roared out in annoyance. She got it wrong. It frustrated him to no end that his origin, the girl he had literally come from, the other part of him could do so bloody badly at fencing. He also knew that he was being unjustly harsh, it was her first time as a singular entity, without him in her head. And he had to admit that she was doing much better than the Slayers when they first began their training. Celena, of all people, should've known that he was extremely precise when training; he demanded excellence from everyone under him. What made him really feel terrible though were her trembling hands after he snapped at her. He tried again, his voice softer and quieter this time.

"Move the blade down a little, gently…stop. Right there. See, how does that work?" he asked. He hadn't realized that Celena's hand had fallen instead of moved. She stood there, mouth slightly agape, staring at the seventeen year old in front of her. "WHAT?" he snapped, somewhat uneasy under her gaze.

"Nothing. Despite the undeniable amount of fun we're having here," she pointed out sarcastically, "I think we ought to stop for a water break. I'm parched."

"Fine, do as you like but get back here within the hour," he answered.

"And what are you going to do while I drink?" she asked, one eyebrow arched delicately. Where she learnt to do that she wasn't sure but she was sure Allen would be proud of her. It was one of his favourite facial expressions.

"I am going to be inspecting your guymelef."

"I have a guymelef?" she asked both eyebrows attempting to become part of her hairline. "Does Allen know this?"

"Not yet. But you will obviously be using the Alsedies model," Dilandau murmured very matter-of-factly. "You weren't honestly thinking that you'd be using the Scherazade?"

"Well, it is the family guymelef…" she trailed off when he scoffed at her.

"It's completely illogical for you to use that and you know how to use and Alsedies, it's easier. Not to mention, the thing is probably outdated now."

"Fine."

"Good."

********

Allen awoke to the sounds of swords clashing. Jumping up he almost knocked himself out on the bedpost, began pulling on his shirt and then realised what was going on. It was only five in the morning but they were already at it. Honestly! He got back into bed and realised that he was still as high strung about fighting as he was in the war. It was like and automatic reaction to jump up into Scherazade every time he heard fighting outside of his window. He needed to unwind and soon. Despite having spent the last two years away from Palas and any type of fighting, he was still unable to rid himself of his nervousness. He suspected it had something to do with Celena and Dilandau having been a part of her.

He got up once again, closed the window that overlooked the training arena. 'Why,' he wondered, 'did grandfather think that calling that place an arena would make it any more glamorous? Something will be done about that…soon.' He then turned and buried his head beneath his pillows. It was Sunday; he intended to sleep until at least noon. Damn Dilandau…he felt sorry for Celena having to wake so early every single morning. But he had to admire the two of them. They were extremely dedicated and he was beginning to get the feeling that the odds had evened themselves out considerably over the past two weeks.

Down in the 'arena' Dilandau and Celena were wide-awake and going at each other's throats out of frustration. Dilandau was constantly shouting out of the Scherazade at Celena in the Alsedies. By some miracle, Celena ha managed to get Allen to allow Dilandau to use the Scherazde and though Allen had said that it would not function properly with someone not of Schezar blood piloting, Celena still managed to get him to let Dilandau into it. Dilandau suspected that she had to point out that it was completely devoid of Flamethrowers before Allen even seriously considered the thought.

Celena was constantly making little careless mistakes that Dilandau knew would cost her life and Celena was trying her best and getting sick of Dilandau's constant barking at her. At first she had been even more careless the more he snapped but Dilandau noticed that the more he said and corrected, the more aggressive she became and the better her attacks were.

"YOU'RE NOT PARRYING CORRECTLY!" he shouted over the clang of their swords. He brought his blade down and Celena parried beautifully. Dilandau smirked proudly; she had learnt something. He continued on the offensive, charging as aggressively as possible. He realised suddenly that every blow he had sent her way hadn't landed. She suddenly changed the entire battle around by taking the offensive and with four swift moves had him cornered.

"YEILD, DILANDAU!" she shouted triumphantly, her sword poised above the heart of his guymelef. It was in that instant that Dilandau realised that she was ready for the fight with Fanel. He had fought both and Fanel had never pulled anything remotely resembling what she just had. The odds of were even. But that was when he saw it. The opening.

"NEVER!" He thrust his sword forward under her sword arm and stopped it just a few seconds before it connected with her side. "I win, Lady Schezar. Two more inches and you'd be dead." A smug grin crept on to his face. "AGAIN!"

Ten gruelling hours later an exhausted Celena was carried back into the castle by an almost equally exhausted Dilandau. After landing her guymelef she had opened it and proceeded to practically fall out of it into Dilandau's startled arms. She tried to apologise but was too weak to do anything but murmur incoherent nothings into his chest. Dilandau was thankful when Allen, who was up late that night awaiting the arrival of Princess Millerna, saw them and took her from him. It was the only time that he was actually willing to give her or anything over to Schezar.

Two hours later, Celena sat bolt upright in bed to be greeted by a grinning Dilandau. Without saying anything, he rose and moved to the door where there was obviously someone stationed. A few whispered words were exchanged then Dilandau turned and closed the door behind him. He stood behind his seat, an armchair positioned close to the foot of her bed. He simply smiled at her and it scared her out of her wits. Dilandau never smiled without a good reason.

"What?" she asked. Her voice sounded defensive to her ears. "What are you smiling about? And why did you lock the door? There's no reason to do that."

"Are you scared of me now, Lady Schezar? You weren't when you were trying to behead me a few hours ago," he countered. He had a way of evading what he didn't want to answer. "But I have to say, you did a wonderful job of it either way."

"What? Dilandau, come here," she said, beckoning him with her finger. He walked forward sunk onto the edge of her bed. She pressed her hand against his forehead and frowned, "You don't seem to be running a fever. Are you sure you're all right? Dilandau?"

Celena had no idea what was going through his mind at the moment but if she did, Dilandau was sure she'd never speak to him again. Somewhere in the past half hour he'd found himself gazing at her, examining her from head to toe. She really was exquisite, even when hot, sweaty and tired…well, he was more leaning towards especially hot and sweaty. He wasn't sure what possessed him to lock the door, there would be a mid coming with food soon in any case, but he had. If he had been subconsciously thinking what he thought he had been thinking, he was sure he'd be dead if he had succeeded. Schezar would have his skin for a rug before he allowed him to lay a finger on his sister. And Celena? She'd probably have taken his head off with a spoon if she figured out what he was thinking.

"Dilandau, you're scaring me. Say something," Celena joked playfully but there was an underlying tremor in her voice that betrayed the truth of her statement.

"What do you want me to say? Do I have to say anything at all, Lady Schezar? Or better yet, does it have to make sense?"

"What?"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," he answered quietly, smiling slightly to himself. "There should be a maid coming here soon with your supper. You'll be eating it up here since you are under strict orders not to move from now until dawn. Is that understood?"

"Do you think I can win, Dilandau? I mean…Lord Van has so much more experience than I do. He's defeated you in battle and you know it. How can I, being as inferior with the blade as I am, even dream of defeating the man who ended the Destiny War?" she asked, looking almost desperately up at Dilandau. Both heads swirled towards the door when they heard a new voice entered their conversation.

"Because Van didn't end the war. You did." Allen stepped into the room, eyes glancing between the two then finally resting on his sister.

"What do you mean 'I did', Allen?" Celena was amazed at her brother's words. He spoke the least of the war. Some believed that he was trying to pretend that it had never happened but Celena knew better. He was only trying to protect her.

"The two of you did. Whatever happened between the two of you during the final confrontation decided the course of the war. It was the internal battle for supremacy between you that ended the war because, if one takes the time to study it, if Dilandau had remained the dominant personality the war might still have been going on today and we wouldn't be having this conversation. Tomorrow you would not be walking into that battle for Dilandau but as him. And, for that matter, tomorrow's battle would not even be taking place.

"As for the question of whether or not you are an able enough swordsman to take on Lord Van, the answer is a definite yes. Over the past two weeks you have shown a level of dedication and determination equal to any man or woman who fought in the war," Allen sat down on the edge of bed that Dilandau had vacated in favour of a standing position looking out the glass door to Celena's right.

"The skill that you have demonstrated when wielding the sword over the past two weeks has surpassed many of those who fought and won battles in that same war and, to add to that," he said bringing his hand to her chin and raising her bowed head to face him, "you're a Schezar. You won't loose."

He smiled at her and cupped her cheek in his hand, "I'm very proud of you, Celena. What you've managed to live through, and the person that you've become despite all of that, is thoroughly amazing. You, dear sister, are one of the sweetest, kindest and purest people I have ever known. And you're my sister. I can safely say that if Mother and Father were here, they'd be very proud of you, Celena and I am too."

"Thank you, Allen! You don't know what it means to me to hear you say that! Thank you so much, Brother. Thank you!" Celena threw her arms around her brother's neck and cried happily into his shoulder. He hugged her tightly, attempting to stop her tears. They did not notice when there was a soft rap at the door which was answered by Dilandau who slipped out quietly after telling the maid to wait until they were finished before entering.

Dilandau stalked down the now familiar hallways making swift and unpredictable turns every once in awhile. He knew he couldn't have provided a better answer but that wasn't what was bothering him. It was what Allen had said about them and the Destiny War. He was right; it had been Celena who had saved Gaea from his insanity.

He found himself in the training room/hanger. He needed to vent some emotions (which ones, he wasn't sure) and since he wasn't allowed to torch anything, he decided that beating up some poor, old, defenceless fencing dummy would have to do. Striping off his boots, he pulled out a sword but found himself dissatisfied with the dummy. He took to simply thrusting at air, practicing already flawless moves over and over until he felt that they were perfect. He became so wrapped up in what he was doing; he didn't hear the other person enter the room.

A sudden echoing clapping jerked him out his trance. He spun and found himself face to face with Celena. She stood there, looking like she'd just had a bath, smiling at him. She was dressed in a way that suggested she wasn't there to simply stand around. The loose shirt and pants were her training gear. Well, he'd already set orders on that so she was out of luck.

"What are you doing out of bed, Celena. You need your rest. You've trained hard enough today," he said. He was beginning to feel slightly uneasy under her steady gaze. It was a new type of feeling for him and he wasn't too sure he liked it.

"You're starting to sound like Allen, Dilandau," she retorted, moving over to where the swords could be found, picking one up and examining it, she continued, "And I'm not going to train. I just couldn't seem to go to sleep. I think it has something to with the anticipation of dawn. I know you know the feeling."

"I do," he replied, his voice guarded. He wasn't accustomed to Celena acting the way she was. "So what exactly do you plan to do, Milady?"

"Nothing in particular. Probably try to work out that kink in my quinte. You know how that's been bothering me lately," she replied non-chalantly. She swung her sword around a few times before settling into a lazy quinte. "See? I'm not even putting any effort into."

"Yes, but I also see that you've got it completely wrong."

"I know. I need to get this right. You said yourself that it could mean the difference between victory and defeat."

"It could also cost you your life."

"So you understand what I'm getting at here."

"Yes," he said turning to replace his blade. He was going to have to help her so he wasn't going to need it.

"By the way, Dilly. That was impressive stuff just now," Celena blurted out. She was ready to kick herself as she felt the tension descend upon the room with a speed that defied logic. Dilandau stopped stiffly. He wasn't used to compliments like that, especially from someone who wasn't his trainer.

"Thank you," he managed to mumble before continuing on. He turned silently back to Celena and looked at her sword. "Well, you have your angle all wrong to begin with…" There was an almost audible breath taken by the room itself as the two begun working.

Two hours later, Celena left the room tired but smiling. She'd finally gotten it right. Dilandau exited a few minutes after her. While pulling the door shut behind him, he smiled slightly to himself. She had complimented him, for some reason beyond his comprehension, he felt…happy that she had liked what she'd seen.

Well, at least he knew she was ready for tomorrow. Stopping at her door, he took a peek at her. She was passed out cold on her bed. She had barely made it through her bath and into her nightclothes before she collapsed under the blankets.

Closing the door behind him, Dilandau walked swiftly to his own room.

Dawn was waiting.

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AN: So that's the end of this chapter. I personally didn't like the last line but I couldn't really find anything better to leave it as. I need to start working on my cliffhanger lines, no? Newayz, all I have to say about the next chapter is: FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! ^-^!