Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ The King of Sorrows ❯ The Hunted ( Chapter 2 )

"If you love somebody, let them go. If they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were."
-Anonymous
By: shiro*tenshi

Disclaimer: I don't own lots of things. First of all, the title I used above is NOT mine, Escaflowne is not mine (as well as its characters)
and the quote is not mine. I also do not own Oxford University.

Van looked at the small pendant in his hand and noticed an opaque object. It seemed irregular and when he maneuvered it, the opaque object stayed in its place. With curiosity growing in his eyes, he wondered what it was. Suddenly, he recognized a crazed feature of the object. It had garnet orbs and realized it was a person.

Placing his hand on his sword, he unsheathed it, the same time the cloaked figure unsheathed his sword. The figure took the first hit, which Van blocked and they continued to fight, their swords striking one another with great epertise.

Finally, Allen, roaming around the castle, heard swords slicing through the air and called for the Royal Guards.

"Show yourself, coward," said Van, aiming to remove its hood. The figure avoided all his questions and continued fighting, its eyes gleaming with bloodlust and malice. The figure with all its expertise in sword fighting, threw Van's sword acroos his chambers, in only one shot. Defenseless, Van quickly grabbed his two scimitars beside his bed, advancing towards the cloaked figure.

"Your skills have improved, King Van, but they can never match mine!" bragged the figure with a crazed tone. Abruptly, with one powerful shot, the figure sliced his sword through the air and Van amazingly blocked it. As the figure applied more pressure, Van was descending towards the ground and would die if he reached another foot towards it. Thinking quickly, Van looked into the figure's eyes, using his other scimitar and pierced it through the figure's hood, taking off his focus. He used the other scimitar to hook it around the figure's sword and throwing it across the room, to the figure's inconvienence.

The figure grabbed his sword, flung it at Van's face, one inch from his eye. By this time, the Royal Guards gathered around the figure, with all their swords aiming at his body. He hissed at them and in a haunting voice, he said "The next time you'll be forever grieved for living!" With that, a gust of wind blew and he vanished.