Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ Soldiars ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

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Summery: Before the days of the Van and Hitomi, and before the Geia War.....
Dilandau, the leader of the dragonslayers, is sent on a mission to collect his a group of fighters, and train them. They would become Ziabacks elete soldiars. The only catch was that the fighters would become 'slayers wheather they like it or not. The story of how the dragonslayers came to be. I also put myself in! I'm not really in the show *grumbles*, but in this story I am the only female dragonslayers.

Soldiars

Chapter #1

Commander Dilandau Albauto sat back in the chair with a sigh. He was supposed to be the leader of Zaiback's elete forces, but he had no soldiars. What were they thinking? Did they want him to be a force all on his own? As much as the young, fire-loving boy would like to think so, it was impossible. The door of the room he was in suddenly opened, and in walked the stratigos, Folken. "Can't you knock?" Dilandau said in an annoyed tone. He was in no mood to talk to anyone at the moment. Folken ignored the comment. "You are given the assignment to collect an army that is worthy of being called the Dragonslayers." He said. "Collect?" Dilandau questioned with a raised eyebrow. "We don't have any soldiars that could really be considered elete in Zaiback. The order is for you to go throughout Giea and hunt down as many fighters as you can that you might consider worthy. Then bring them back here and train them." The tall dark figure said. Dilandau stood up and began to walk out of the room, understanding his misson. "And Dilandau," Folken added "they don't have to be willing to come with you. Use any means necissary." Dilandau grined. That made his mission much easier. It might even be fun.

Dilandau decided to first look in Fanalia. The little country was certinaly old fashion, but that also accounted for the people being more able to survive. If he found a good fighter there, they might not need as much training. He rode his guymelef in flight mode. After two hours of travel, he finally landed. He hid his guymelef in a thicket of trees a few miles outside the city. As he approuched the city, he relized that it had no wall. Nothing to protect it. He had at least thought that he would have to climb over a barrier to get inside, but there was none. He walked past the houses and stalls set up. This was going to be harder then he thought. All day he looked, but found only a few people fighting, and none of them were even worth becoming soldiars at all. It was dusk when he tured to go back to his 'melef, but stoped when he heard a sword clash about sixty yards away. He followed the sound to a clearing where a battle was taking place. One of the fighters was a young boy no more then fifteen. The other was an older man who looked no less then fifty. Despite how old the man was, it was obvious he was skilled. Muscles bulged on his arms and legs, but he was still having trouble keep the younger boy's blows at a safe distance. The fight continued for about ten more minutes, then the boy delt one more blow and killed the old fighter. After making sure that the battle was over, he droped to his knees, panting. Dilandau, who was sitting up in a tree watching all this, now got a good look at the winner. He was no older then fifteen, and had short chestnut-colored hair. He was exausted from the battle, so even if he didn't want to go, he would give little resistance. Dilandau hopped down from the branch he had been sitting on and walked causualy up to the boy. He immediatly tried to pick up his sword, but it seemed too heavy. "What's your name?" Dilandau said, kicking the sword away. "M- M- Miguel Labalier." He half panted, half growled. He tried to reach for his sword, but Dilandau was way ahead of him. He grabbed the boys arms and twisted them behind his back. "Now, listen carefully Miguel. I will be taking you back to a Zaiback floating fortress, and you will train to become a Dragonslayer." Dilandau said, putting more presure on Miguel's arms as he tried to struggle. "No!" He said firmly, continueing to struggle. "You don't have a say in this. It has been decided." With that Dilandau tied the thrashings boy's arms up and dragged him back to his guymelef. By the time they reached it, Miguel was too tired to struggle any longer. His wrists were tied to the arm of the 'melef and it converted to flight mode. He was quite surpried when it rose from the ground and began flying away. Miguel was left hanging in mid air above the scenery. He looked back at Fanalia as it got smaller and smaller until it disappeared. A few tears ran down his cheek. He looked up into the "face" of the guymelef. The protective visor was up, and his capture looked back at him with an evil grin. "Don't worry Miguel. You now have a new home." Dilandau laughed at how helpless Miguel was. He looked away and muttered a few curses. It was late when they reached the Vione. Folken was already in the hanger when he parked the Alsedies. "That was fast." He commented. "I'm not done. How many people do you want me to bring at once?" Dilandau said as he began to untie the rope. "What's so special about this one?" He asked, eyeing Miguel, who had decided to start struggling again. "He's a good fighter, but he still needs training." Dilandau told the stratigose, as he wrestled the thrashing boy to the ground, and once again twisted his arms behind his back. Folken accepted this and turned to leave. It took about half an hour before he managed to force the stubborned willed captive into a prison cell. Dilandau shoved him into the enclsed room and walked in himself. After locking the door behind him, he turned to face the panting boy. Miguel didn't rest long, he took a dive at the keys in Dilandau's hand. This amused the pyro. He let him grab them and rush to the door. "Well, that was despirate." He said walking casualy over to Miguel. He was in such a hurry that the key kept missing the lock. Dilandau stoped for a moment to watch him. He certainly was persistant. He allowed him to unlock the door. As soon as the door was open he tried to run, but Dilandau wasn't going to let him do anymore. Just as he tried to dash out, he grabbed the captive and restrained him. He laughed and pushed the door closed, hearing it lock back. "Yes, very persistant." He mocked to the weakening Miguel. The boy had had a chance to rest a little on the trip back, but it would take a full nights rest to fully recharge him. Something Dilandau would not give him until he submitted. He dragged him to a side of the cell that had restaints attached to the wall. This was to make sure the prisoner had as little chance to escape as possible. Miguel's strength was leaving him as the white haired demon tied his hands tightly to the wall with the restraints. They were set up so that he was pined in a sitting position on the floor. Dilandau kneeled so that he could look him in the eye. "Well?" He said. "What do you want?!" He nearly shouted. Dilandau frowned deeply and struck him in the face. Miguel gave a pained cry of surprise as his head snapped to the side. "Don't speak to me like that!" He ordered. "I will speak to you however I please." Miguel growled. This earned him another slap in the face. "Why do you have to be so difficult?" He said. This was getting on his nerves. The boy chose not to anwser this, and recieved yet another slap in the face. Dilandau frowned and sighed. "Then you leave me no choice." He said getting up and exiting the cell. He returned five minutes later with two guards. One of them had a long rope, and the other had something, but he wasn't sure what it was. They untied the restaints on the wall, but then tied his wrists together with the rope. They threw the other end of the rope over a bar in the cealing and pulled him up. His eyes widened in fear as he relized what they were going to do. Again he tried to struggle, but to no avail. All he had on his back was a thin brown shirt, and they were about to- Miguel cried out in pain as a wip lashed his sides and back. "Make it eaisier on yourself, Miguel. It would be much less painful." Dilandau said, who was standing in front of him. Another lash from the wip sent waves of pain through his body. Dilandau watched coldly as Miguel was tortured. Of course it wasn't a real wip, just a strip of tar. If they used a real leather one, he might bleed to death from the cuts it would cause. Another yelp of pain as the soldiars beat the young boy. He still refused to submit, despite the pain. This process continued for half an hour, and he still didn't give in. They finally had to stop, lest they beat the lif out of him, and he was no good dead. The soldiars droped the rope and Miguel to the ground, and left. He lay face down on the floor, gasping. Dilandau stooped down and inspected him. He would be alright, if he gave in. "How long will you let yourself be tortured before you give in?" He asked the dark skinned boy. "I... I... I will never join you. Just kill me." He said trying to get up, but was aburuptly pushed down again. "No, I won't allow you to be killed. There are too few fighters with your skills." Miguel sat up quickly and pulled Dilandau's sword from his scabber. He tried to slit his own throat, but was quickly stoped by Dilandau. He pushed the boy back down and fliped him over. The rope that had hung him from the ceiling was still tied aroung his wrists, so he couldn't stop the white hair captain as he used that same sword to cut the back of his shirt open. His back was laden with angry red lines where the wip had struck him. He prodded one of those lines with his finger. The boy flinched and squirmed in pain. "Why do you have to be so difficult?" Dilandau asked as he stabbed a finger roughly into another bruise. Miguel gave a small cry of pain. "It hurts, doesn't it?" He said continuing to torture the stuborn fighter just by poking him. "Come on, Miguel. You can resist forever." He said, as Miguel squirmed and cringed from his touch. "I'll have you beaten again, if you don't coopertate." He threatened, still prodding at the angry red marks. When it became evident that this wasn't going to work, Dilandau again called in the soldiars to have Miguel beaten. The boy had very little energy left to struggle, but still tried. None the less he was again beaten mercilisly. Dilandau leaned back and watched. The sound of Miguel's agonized cries bounced off the walls and echoed in the room. When that was finished, the soldiars left, but Dilandau kept Miguel hanging from the ceailing. The worn-out boy glared at his capture. He was enjoying this far too much. "Now-" He began, but was abruptly cut off. "No! I wont join you!" He put all his strengh into making that sound firm. Dilandau sighed. "Very well." He walked out and came in a minute later with the soldiars again. "Wait!" He cried. But the tar-made whip struck him on the back once again. "Okay...." He gasped weakly. Dilandau grined and dismissed the soldiars. He cut the rope and Miguel went crashing to the floor. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He said as he untied his arms. He was familiar with this type of person. They would be so stuborn, but would never say anything they didn't mean. Miguel had been broken. The Vione had many rooms for crew members and soldiars, but very few of them were used. This was because the dragonslayers were expected to take up most of them. Of course, they hadn't givin him the soldiars. But when he though about it, this was better this way. He could now choose soldiars who faught to his liking. Dilandau now led Miguel to one of those rooms. He had grabbed the boys sholders and was helping him stumble down the hall ways. When they reached the first unused room, Dilandau opened the door and lightly shoved him in. The boy stumbled at first, but was able to navigate to the bad and flop down, falling asleep at once. Dilandua closed the door and locked it from the outside. He rested in his room that night, and in the morning, went out again to collect his next soldiar.

To Be Continued....