Dallet of course was imparting his boundless wisdom about dating and women. Viole sat through it and looked at the cartoons. And turned to the novels page. "But gifts never work out, that was your first mistake, with her. You get a girl ciocolates she'll say they'll make her fat. You get her roses she'll say that she wanted lilies." Dallet said. "Girls don't know what they want."

"Bah. Ciocolats work. I don't go after skinny prudes like you. I like women with some curves." Gatti shot the blue into Chesta's zone. "There was Ginga of Kindra or no it was Cathy I forget. She liked my ciocolates."

Dallet groaned, "They always backfire."

"You just want some willowy tall beanpole." Gatti said scornfully. "That's why you like Guimel. I want to be able to tell the difference between a woman and a boy. If I wanted to fuck a boy I would have had my way with you a long time ago."

"Oh how flattering. Let me just jump into your arms."

"Stop flirting you two." Guimel groaned, "Or I'll have to break my foot off in your-

"Yeah Yeah."

Gatti smiled focusing on the shot.

"Dallet, I wish very much so that if I live through this war, you would show me your sister, she'd be well moneyed of course and with the curves in the right places. And huge tits."

Kanik drew the outline of a woman on the old dusty score board, complete with nipples.

Gatti looked over at the couch casting a kiss at Viole.

"Tell me Viole-kun?" Gatti glared straight at her. Which do you prefer girls with large breasts or girls with huge breasts?" Gatti asked.

Moran glumped, afraid what she would do.

Viole stopped and continued reading her journal. He just loved to forget who she was. That she did not debase her mind with such low thoughts. Her mind was free from such inane distractions.

"I'll not-"

"Play it safe and say huge breasts. Good boy." Gatti smiled and continued playing. "We'll make a man out of that one yet." Gatti lowered his head much too close, "I should have guessed."

"Listen you-" Viole sniffed.

"That is why you fit in so well with us lads. You don't have to worry about all those fresh young girls at Academy."

Viole could not believe what he was insinuating that she'd let such feelings effect her. She was a soldier, not some goof off, and certainly not some sexual deviant.

Guimel shoved him back towards the table. He really wanted to get in a game tonight. Viole didn't even blink at his accusation. She would not let him say such things.

"Cool off you two. Or I'll go get-" Guimel snapped his fingers.

"Just funnin' Viole-kun."

Dallet laughed easing the room.

"Thank the Gods, I'm the only one in my family." Dallet shook his head, "The thought of you being my blood frightens me."

"Well I'll find some dark haired lady somewhere. Someone with cash-"

"With your reputation, I wouldn't let you near my sister." Chesta said, "Our clan is blond anyway."

"All 13 of you? Don't you get blinded in the summer time?"

"Yes. Dorun has red hair, but it's light. He's probably the fieldhand's baby."

Gatti chalked up his cue.

"The way I see it if you are gay, why would you want to be with such a girly boy. I detest a manly woman." Gatti said.

"I'm not gay. I passed the test. I'm not a freak or anything like that." Dallet shook his head. "I like pretty boys and pretty girls. I think a boy can be pretty." He explained, "If I were some kind of freak wouldn't the test have shown it, right?"

"You're right." Gatti said.

Miguel entered the room agitated, brushing past all of them. Lifting Dallet's feet up. "Move." He looked as if he sat in something wet, like he had something on his mind. All the other slayers said to leave Miguel alone. He got moody sometime. Some even accused him of getting the vapors, lovesick, languishing in his room crying or just watching the ceiling. That was what made the boys fall so mad for him. He was somber, chaste and quiet. She supposed that if boys could fall in love with girls because they were virtuous, boys could be attracted to another boy's chastity too. She wondered if there was such thing as a male damsel in distress. That would definitely be Miguel. No one ever said anything about Miguel's upbringing. Viole guessed it must have been pretty good considering how handsome and genteel he acted.

He lifted his head towards her. What are you reading Viole- chan?" Miguel-sempai always had something nice to say to her even if it was only her name.

"The Fashion Journal. `Escape From The Desert Island.' It's dreadful. Cost a half a pid. At least it's not a romance, or `Elena' or something. Girls are so foolish."

Dallet looked at it "Which one you got?"

He looked on the cover. "Issue three."

"Wow. You are behind. Did he escape the-"

"No no. Don't tell me." Viole shook her head, "I want to be surprised." Viole continued reading and Dallet peaked over her shoulder. Giggling ever once and a while. He was such a spaz.

Moran scratched another tally against Chesta's name over the ladies boob.

"How dare you desecrate my wife?" Gatti put his hand on his hip as if he'd draw his dagger.

"You really are a child, I mean really." Chesta rolled his eyes.

"Come on Gatti if you want gab to Dallet, let someone else in." Guimel whined.

"It's my turn."

"Then play and stop talking. It's my turn next." Guimel said.

Moran smiled. "Don't worry it's 13 to 3. Chesta's going to grind him."

Chesta smiled cockily.

Dallet peaked over her shoulder.

"Ooh. Have you gotten to the part where he got away? On page-"

Viole glared at him "No. I'm trying to-"

"I'm just explaining to the others. See Rikan Telemachae, he's the hero. He escaped the realm of the Jungle Queen of the Mystic Moon and her cannibals. In the dead by night." Dallet grabbed the journal away "Here listen to this It's so exciting-"

"Dallet if I wanted to know what happened I would read it myself." Guimel said, "Shut up."

"It's a good novel in here. I like this one almost as good as the `Youth of Janga.' It is all about a Captain who is trapped on a Southern Island and must survive on an island alone. Then he finds that there are vicious savages on the island with coal black skin and dark eyes. They are Draconians and they worship a volcano god. Taka. And so they were going to sacrifice the beautiful maiden Annalita and-"

"Good. I'm glad you are enjoying it." Guimel said lining up his next shot. "Now leave Viole alone."

"Thank you Guimel-sempai." Viole grabbed her paper back.

"No problem Viole-kun. He's beginning to irritate me."

Dallet could get on anyone's nerves for long periods of time. Miguel stood up banishing him from his lap and the couch he rolled onto the floor.

"Well one never knows what one should do if you met cannibals."

"There are no cannibals. The only savages are the ones over the borders of Zaibach. Besides I've met many of them. They are just men with dark skin or white hair or wings or whatever. They aren't cannibals." Miguel shook his head.

"Do you think Prince Van is a cannibal, Dallet?" Guimel laughed.

"I don't know what he is." Dallet said laughing, "But I don't think I have to worry about him unless he pulls out a fork."

"Barbarians don't use forks." Guimel said, "Folken drinks out of his soup bowl. Like it was a cup."

"It was so cute. He just picked it up and started drinking it down."

"He eats tubers with his knife."

"Well he's gonna have a heck of a time eating me, without utensils." Dallet said.

"They are from Fanelia. They are strange. I mean bonking on his own brother like that. That is barbarous." Gatti nodded, "Ungodly. . ."

"Come now," Dallet sat up "You are such a hypocrite. That's the way royalty has always been. They all do it to keep themselves pure. They get married to their sisters and stuff. It was that way until Dornkirk-sama came to bring us out of ignorance. Royals mingle with their own kind. Why should they screw around with people of a lower quality?"

The ball went bouncing past. Chesta's blue eyes screwed up into tight beams. Chesta growled and grabbed the ball.

"Folken-sama would never do such a thing."

Gatti fluttered "Of course not wonderful beautiful perfect Folken-sama." Gatti leaned on his cue, "We have to remember they are barbarians. No matter how we can dress them up. They don't know better."

"Prince Van is still what you would call a handsome boy. I don't think there would be a man who could resist him." Miguel smiled weakly. "I think that he's very pretty."

"It must be fun to be the prince. Just choose whomever you like and let the devil care. He could take his brother into his bed." Gatti said, gleaming mischief in his eyes.

"Folken wouldn't-" Chesta tapped his cue.

"He would have to. That's how it works in those countries." Gatti said, "They have no morals."

"But he wouldn't-"

"Fine then he wouldn't." Guimel shook his head. "Who cares? This is a stupid discussion. They were not sleeping together. I mean all you saw was Van in his bed."

"Yeah. He was holding him."

"Didn't you ever sneak in your brother's bed when you had a nightmare?" Guimel brushed hair onto his nose.

Dallet stared and shook his head "Finish the game."

Gatti looked at his reflection in the mirror. He couldn't think of anything else after that business with Miguel. He liked Miguel a lot, and knew his silence couldn't be good. Gatti knew that Miguel was on edge. He did not want to think it was what he said about Dilandau. That would be a mess. Miguel was just horny. You got horny, you got laid and you moved on. There was nothing else to it. Girl, boy, it didn't matter and it was all over in a few days.

Chesta, his neighbor continued quietly sitting, and not talking. Reflection he called it. Prayer. Chesta didn't have the balls to call it that. Not that Gatti would have the balls to pray at all. He had heard tales of the things they did to certain priests in the Dawning of the New Era. Like holding a guy next to a vat of hot grease or shooting some priests holed up in their temple, making the stones of the shrines red veined. Then there were the people who just vanished. Guimel's father just disappeared one night. No one seemed to check if the priest had a three-year-old son. He wore out his shoes trying to find where his father went. He wandered all the way to Dallet's house ten miles away. Dallet had a thing for protecting him ever since. It seemed like a silly thing to stand up for. I mean at least the gender deviants were getting some action.

Chesta was in reality the only person in his life who was not a gender deviant of some sort. But that was by default. The boy so much hadn't had a dirty dream since puberty. He was an anti- sexualist, by practice if not political party.

Gatti realized he was staring at himself in that mirror much too long to look manly. Dilandau preened like a bantam rooster, look how that got poked at. Gatti was very proud of himself. He could rest knowing that he had done a pretty good job with his day.

That whole business with Viole-kun was priceless. He expected her to run off and cry after all that business with that dirty talk. She had a thin skin. He could see her eyes tremble. How anybody like that could be such a demon with a sword confused him. She could dance in her guymelef. Rather than shirk she leapt into battle like a panther. The sways of her destruction and power sweeping over her enemies, it took a girl to make it look beautiful. The only one he had ever seen match with the balance of grace and power was Dilandau, but it was not the same. Dilandau had no technique, no precision. Of course he could be exaggerating. Lots of new Dragon Slayers showed promise and then got rolled out.

He harbored no grudge to Viole-kun, she was a good soldier who was adjusting to well to the training. No bitching, no complaining. She was as good as they came and she'd give her life for Dilandau. If anything she was no threat, harboring no huge ambitions. She wanted to be a Captain of her own squad of Guymelefs some day. She just had a steady determination and nerves of ice.

Something that he would have to break before Dilandau would throw Viole out of the Dragon Slayers.

He wasn't going to give up his place without a fight. He had always been Dilandau's second in command. His foil, his rival. Now in this stranger he was being replaced.

Dilandau had asked Viole to bout him three times last week after 1900 during the rest period. This week he only asked Gatti twice. Dilandau was being beaten. Viole had a cuff over her ear, and one on her neck. A classic decapitation blow. Gatti had noticed that Dilandau had scarlet bruise on his shoulder as he got undressed in the gym. He had tried to hide it. Viole was out for blood. What kind of fiend could attack his shoulder? Looked like teethmarks.

It would be like that. You bout someone for years and then they get familiar, they get boring. And Gatti didn't need to bruise Dilandau. Dilandau would no longer favor him how could he stay lieutenant for long.

He remembered the first time he and Dilandau bouted.

D-chan in those days, before D-sempai or now Dilandau-sama. D-chan unpacked his clothes in silence out of his valise. He also had the habit to stare at walls. But they had known he was a made and not worthy of any notice. Until that first night. . .

Dilandau unfolded his linen sweater. Inside, a flat beastman doll. It was black and torn. With one of it's glass eyes missing. It seemed more the case of a doll than a doll. Gatti had a little sister. He looked at Dilandau. Curl into his bed.

Gatti rolled over in his bed and laughed to himself. That little boy stuck in his doll. He laughed very quietly, to himself on that first night in the bunks.

That night a pair of boys were playing rounders with small pieces of metal, very fancy, Dallet owned these. He talked to Dallet and his free slave Guimel. They asked him if he was bunking under the monster boy. They had heard those homunculi didn't to drink the souls of dead people to survive. Gatti had no idea. He only laughed and told them about the boy's secret doll. After that the idea of D- chan being a dangerous homunculi was laughable.

Of course it couldn't end there. Soon they had decided that the funniest thing in the world would be to steal that doll from the weird silver haired boy and show it to everyone. So they struck out.

The boy hid his doll behind his back.

"Hey what you got there?"

"My Jajuka."

"Oh."

"He's not really black. He turned that color. He was brown. When I pulled it out of the fire. It turned black."

"You pulled it out of a fire?"

He nodded. "The lab was on fire and I grabbed it before it burned up.

"Huh?"

He stared at it, "It's a nice Jajuka, even if it doesn't say anything and it's crispy smelling."

"Say. Can I see it?"

D looked at him "Okay."

Guimel took the doll and smiled back.

"Yes."

D-chan smiled.

"Now we play keep away." Guimel tucked the doll under his arm and ran.

D-chan growled. And for the first time any of them noticed his eyes were not brown, but bloody and mad. It made Guimel nervous for a second.

"Give that back," the boy said quietly.

Guimel tossed the doll over to Gatti. D ran over to Gatti. Gatti dangled it over his head. He tried to grab it.

Dallet laughed "Do you want your dolly back?"

Dilandau gritted his teeth. His face tightened.

Dallet quickly passed it back to Guimel. He panicked. He tossed it into a bunk aimlessly. D chased them around the bunk room as they tossed it back and forth.

Guimel looked around and stuffed it under a bed. They sat in a line as the other boys began rousing at the noise of the poor silver haired boys cries.

D-chan looked at him.

"Where did you throw my Jajuka?"

"Um. . . What? I don't know what you are talking about."

"Yeah. What kind of silly boy would have a doll?"

"Yeah, Only girls like dolls." Dallet repeated.

"If you want to be a girl, why aren't you in the girls barracks?"

They poked him.

"It was mine. Why are you doing- You mean- mean- you're mean!" The tears were coming out of his eyes. He wasn't even trying to hold them back. They laughed.

"Go to the girls tent then. Go see your dolly. It's probably there."

D wandered back to his bed, trying to make sense of his fate, as they cloistered, triumphing at their dominance.

It was only the next day after they had lost his doll that they first began to practice with swords. D-chan was small. Not as small as Chesta, but still skinnier than any of them, as if he grew up eating rice and celery. He was stuck with one of the longer bokken. And when Gatti beat him easily, he broke down in front of them again. He cried. He didn't run he just covered his face and cried. Gatti felt very good.

That night at dinner the other boys were around him marveling at his skill.

"Ne, Gatti-sempai. You beat everyone." Dallet said, "You're the best in class."

The pale silver haired boy walked into the room, looking down at his feet. He'd stopped bawling.

"It's D-chan."

"He's probably going to talk to his dolly." Gatti said. The others laughed. He knew he was on top of the world.

At this everything began.

Gatti was walking to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

D-chan closed the door. He heard the click of the lock.

"What are you doing Doll baby?"

D-chan stood his ground. He lifted his soft dark eyes into Gatti's.

"What's a matter scared of the dark, too? Dolly-chan?"

D smiled.

"What are you smiling at?"

He slammed Gatti into the sink, chipping his nose against the stone, slamming his face against the sink. Gatti howled in pain. And D-chan smiled. He had the strength of about four or five boys and the fury of an army. D-chan slapped and punched him in the face And D-chan smiled. "Take it back." The boy creature snarled.

"No. You fucking. . ."

D-chan grabbed his shampoo bottle and flushed the soap against his face, in his eyes, in his mouth, everywhere. He was choking and dying as his face burned and bled with heat and poison. And D-chan smiled

"Got to hell." But the soap only went into his mouth.

"You're not better than me." D-chan laughed, "No one is better than me. No one. I am made for this. This is my destiny. So you either kill me or just except it. I will not tolerate your pity or your disrespect."

When he ran out of shampoo. So with a slap to the back of his head, he stood up.

"I can't see." Gatti wailed "Why did you-"

"You're nothing. Do you really think I have no experience in battle. You might be a wizard with a f*cking sword, but how many have you killed? If you think I'll let you make a fool out of me, you're the fool." D said lightly yanking the nape of his neck.

Gatti began whimpering "Gomen Nasai. Forgive me D-san."

Dilandau left the water running. So he could wash the pain out of his eyes.

"I loved my Jajuka. And now he's gone. And I blame you and that curly headed sheep boy. Don't anger me again or I'll hurt you."

The next day, after the attack they fought again. Dilandau gripped the sword a little surer now. But Gatti had forgotten himself. He wanted vengeance.

"I'll show you to jump me." Gatti already felt the sting of bruised honor. He descended on Dilandau with the wrath of a god with his sword. Dilandau looked like a rabbit before a lion. He defeated Dilandau again.

"Good point. Don't attack so aggressively. Some could see his vulnerabilities."

And so Gatti continued his day. He walked in the hall from recitations, a subject he never did excel at. But if he wasn't careful he'd be stuck back a year with the new plebes. And he knew someone was watching him. He held his notebook closer. It seemed so quiet.

He was crushed against the ground.

Nothing. He couldn't even hear a noise before he was on the ground.

He was in so much pain. Dilandau stepped on his chest.

"You are still nothing. You are a nothing without your sword. Don't beat me again." He dropped the slate broken in half over his head with a stream of nose blood on it.

It would only take a few more times before Gatti stopped winning to Dilandau, after recitation, after lights out and that other time,

Gatti limped into the barracks. His whole body ached. His nose was bleeding. The boys crowded around him, poking at the blood on his face. The boys looked at him asking him what happened.

"Gatti why were you skipping recitations?"

"Yeah what happened?"

Gatti wept, he would let his new fellows in on it. He would tell them the truth and maybe he could stop the monster, "D-chan beat me up."

There was one laugh.

"D-chan. That little wimp."

Then there was more laughter.

"We have to get him." Gatti said.

"Yeah right. D-chan is a fraidy cat. You saw how he always cries."

Gatti shook his head. "He jumped me in the bathroom."

They stared at him "You can't be afraid of that baby. He likes dolls and you beat him with a sword. Why are you so scared of that wimp?"

"It's just. . ."

Gatti knew his newly won fame was gone. Guimel rolled his eyes. How could little D-chan be so vicious? Gatti was no longer in charge. Dilandau's brutality had cowed him. He had been bested.

Dilandau knew he must be the best. Gatti only let him. Gatti tried everything to get back at him. There was a night he did try to ambush Dilandau with a sword. But Dilandau heard him and defended himself with a wood club he found when he broke his chair. In the end they realized that it would be best to give up the rivalry. But no it wasn't a rivalry. Gatti knew it wasn't. It was never a rivalry, except between the truth and reality. Gatti knew he was better than Dilandau, but Dilandau would never let him be.

Gatti trained with Dilandau in the night while most slept and played cards. They watched the upper classes. They nearly cut each other to ribbons. They came close to killing each other several times. The power of steel seduced him. There became nothing better than a good fight. From the teachers they hid their skill. But in combat and competition they shined. Gatti easily beat everyone, bragged about it and brandished his title of greatest fencer in the academy like a badge of honor. The girls were impressed early on. They all fell for him at some time and then usually lived to regret it. Gatti at one point had 5 different girlfriends. It was an honor. The honor Dilandau allowed him. Without it that would have meant nothing.

Yet Dilandau would spare his skill he would hide it. His technique soft and soothing, quick and straight and then he'd pull out the attack in the last point. And always when he bouted Gatti he won. Because that was his right. He was the best.

Dilandau was the best at everything. He couldn't help but be. And when he wasn't he got violent. He believed in competition, as long as it let him win. Even in academics when he began to fall behind he demanded to get better. In 3rd year mathematics he dropped a desk from the 2nd story to scare his rival into getting a bad grade.

Soon stories of D-san were plentiful. Only Gatti talked to him, not that he had that much to say. He would sit alone at meals, at study and everyone was afraid of him. It was good for him as a captain to learn his place, above everyone else. He was always lonely at worst.

No one really paid any attention to Dilandau's dubious skills until they were all in their 4th year. There was a 6th year teamleader who was sniffing around, looking for some bitch to shove around. He predated most of the smaller boys. Guimel became afraid of going to the showers and whispered such frightening things in Dallet's ear. That was when Dallet became edgier and Guimel's spunk seemed to fade into dullness. From that point on Dallet was quick to get out his sword.

When D-san asked Guimel why he was crying, he gritted those impossible white teeth and kicked a hole in the wall. They all had a feeling that Dornatti had met his match. No one happened to tell him about the wild homunculi maniac. With his beauty, D-san was a pervert trap. Soon Dornatti had vanished from the center and a new command position opened. Everyone was thankful to D-san for getting rid of him, even the officers. D. Albatou was the only person to be elected team leader while still under probation. The soldiers who once feared him looked up to him. They called him by his full name, Dilandau. No one even knew he had a name until then. He had never had people looking up to him. It did not go to his head because he couldn't believe it, for a long time he wouldn't talk to anyone but his original four.

But Dilandau-sempai became a real power in the school. He was not as violent as he used to be. When someone was pawing at Chesta like a horny goat all he had to do was drop his coffee mug and smile very grimly and the guy abandoned the pursuit. Of course Chesta thought that meant he was Dilandau's bitch after that, for nearly two months. Dilandau was much too preoccupied with school to ever even look at any of them in that way. He made his decisions long ago. He'd rather have power than sex. Though he did find Chesta sweet. If he had wanted a relationship before Miguel came along, he probably would have paired off with the petite blond Dragon Slayer. Of course after Miguel they learned he was all business, and never wanted any of them. Well Gatti had his doubts on that. Dilandau would never let himself, anymore than Gatti would bed his sword or Chesta get friendly with one of his racing mounts.They called them Dilandau's pets. That much more appropriate than Dilandau's Harem. They all knew he failed the Gay Tests, or Gender Propriety.

No one but the Generals and the boys in the center knew the most beloved and lusted after boy in Zaibach was gay. Before Dilandau was anybody, he had stood before the school. Everyone who did was put on display with placards saying nasty things. They all had to walk past and read them. He'd taken it four times each time cast out with all the other perverts. He looked as if he could die. But the bastard didn't even cry. The whole time from Reveille to 8th Watch. Even as they laughed and scorned, some of the students tossed dust at him. And thankfully for them he had to stay up there the whole time, or he probably broken their jaw. The bastard never even cried. It was the only time Gatti could ever remember how that boy had held that little doll close to him.

They stood and helped him down from the gibbit. Gatti, Guimel, Dallet, even Chesta. He shook the dust out of his hair. They all said they would stand by him. Dilandau said didn't turn around. He rolled his eyes "Where else would you go, you dirty fucks?" He turned around and walked to bed. That was one of the sweetest things anybody had ever said to Gatti.

They became extensions of Dilandau's power. They became his tools. And because he was such a heartless bastard they only kept on getting better.

Dilandau had given them a lot. With Dilandau he was one of the most powerful soldiers in the world.

Now there was another who would take Dilandau, take his honor away from him. Viole did not fight for her skill. It was blasted upon her. It was no gift, just a fluke. And when her luck run out she would be nothing. Gatti spun the mirror around, and rested in his bed. He dreamt of a lovely darkhaired girl feeding him a goblet of milk and a goblet of fire.

Guimel walked towards Miguel who had wafted out of the common room. He stopped Miguel before he could sneak down the hall. Dallet followed behind them.

"Come on Miguel we can't play Jewels with only two players. It's just one game of cards."

"We can do it tommorow."

"Miguel, look, stay up. You've been acting strange. We just want to talk." Guimel said.

"Yeah like something crawled up your ass and died." Dallet popped down. "You look like you're so lonely. You haven't look that way in a long time."

"What way?"

"Before. . . before what? Yesterday, last week. How do you think you can tell me something like that?" Miguel snapped.

"What's wrong?" Guimel asked.

Miguel knew he could trust Guimel.

"Dilandau is sleeping with the Prince."

Guimel stared "Aha I knew it. I just knew it. I was right"

Dallet blinked "What?"

"Shh. Chesta will hear. Then he'll go tell Folken and then-"

"Wait you mean Folken and Dilandau are-"

"Dallet. Chesta will tell Folken and Folken will get angry." Guimel said evenly.

Miguel looked at his feet.

"So who is on top?"

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since Fanelia." Miguel said.

"We burned it down."

"He came to fight us off and well you know-"

"Dilandau is bonking the Fanelian Prince after the invasion of Fanelia? It has to be true. It's too unbelievable." Dallet said, "He's found more than one way to master Fanelia."

"But you mustn't tell Chesta or any of the new ones."

"Who else knows?"

"How did you find out?" Guimel asked.

"You pimp you." Dallet squealed and punched him in the shoulder "You're helping them aren't you? Passing their messages, giving each other presents. You are Dilandau's go between."

"He is a very fine gentleman. It is an honor to help them."

"That is why Dilandau was keeping you awake. For awhile we thought Dilandau had found himself a new bit of rough."

"No no. Dilandau would never. He wouldn't-"

Guimel smacked him lightly, "I guess we were wrong about that."

Dallet "Gods, you are lucky. I wish he trusted me enough. No wonder you're all edgy. I would have thought it a broken heart."

Miguel smiled "They think everything is because I've got a broken heart. I'm just worried that Folken will find out."

"Gatti said that you'd found someone and that's why you were out prowling nights. Does that mean Gatti knows too?"

"Gatti knows. He's been chaperoning them, kind of."

"Yeah he's been going on about you and Malliel."

"He's full of shit. He's like 13. I don't like kids."

"It must be so exciting. Does the Prince write him letters? About how he pines and languishes for his fiery touch."

Miguel looked strangely at Dallet.

"And Dilandau responds about how he cannot submit to the temptations of his burning passion out of duty and then the Prince responds how he will die. . .." Dallet grabbed Miguel's shirt enthusiastically "Is that why he was sick? Because he was getting the vapors over Dilandau? Wow was he lovesick? He's so sensitive he'll die of a broken heart and madness."

"Remember Dallet this is the same guy who beat you up." Guimel said, "I don't think he'll die of a broken heart."

"Your story is much more interesting than mine. Why don't you just tell it to yourself?" Miguel shrugged Dallet off.

"That's how these grand romances go. They do write letters to each other don't they?"

"They don't have much time between. . . you know."

Dallet chuckled, "Wow this is exciting. Well don't you worry. We'll bury this secret with us. I won't tell a soul."

Dallet beamed brightly at him slapping him on the soldier.

"I wish I could be in your shoes. You must be his favorite."

Miguel smiled thinking, I'd rather be his whore than his favorite soldier. He continued to gab with the two until they went to Guimel's room off by themselves. He walked back to his own room and his soft bed, alone and free.

Viole sat looking at the ceiling, and the drawing on her wall. It was coming down. The corners were worn by pins and needles. She pinned it back up onto the wall in her bunk.

Viole couldn't believe the level of disrespect that went around here. They were gossiping like schoolgirls about a prince and saying such vulgar things. Viole would never understand men, even if she had an aversion to women.

But she had seen some things. She wondered if The Prince would be the kind who would ignite the passion in her commander's heart.

She had seen the prince walking around the observatory looking at the sky and the guymelefs. The Fanelian. Her brain could call him few things but Prince. He was radiant and majestic. A magnificent savage. She could see why Dilandau could be interested in him. Van was as natural a king as Dilandau is a natural general.

It would be a splendid friendship. Like a star in the night sky. They belong together, despite the sounds of struggle from their chambers. No one said that it is an easy union. They must argue terribly. Since they can no longer battle each other on the field, they chose this bedroom. They were very noisy when they argued, sometimes reduced to growling like animals and then noises she couldn't describe as talking at all. It was a good thing that we do keep secrets in our squad.

She did not want to think about them. She remembered the first time that she ever spoke to Dilandau. He was recruiting when she was in her 5th year at Girls Center. She knew he had been there.

When they first spoke she was standing on the gibbit. She had failed her Gender Propriety. Somehow she knew she wouldn't. She did not lose her head over boys, she was a warrior and she could not force herself into cowing and sweet behavior. She was not a woman. She would never be Gender appropriate. Dilandau knew what it was to have that burden. Most of his men had passed in varying degrees.

Dilandau walked past the crowd and stood next to her.

"Stop crying. We're soldiers. We won't have those thugs think they are better than us."

Dilandau stood alongside her. Most of the girls just walked away, after seeing that. Dilandau Albatou, captain of The Famous Dragon Slayers was helping the man girl.

"What will you do then Viole?"

She didn't think. People like them really didn't have a choice. They became anti-sexuals, so they would not be disgraced. "I will make my oath. I will be an anti-sexual. I will not betray myself."

"You are a good citizen Viole. A better one than I am."

Dilandau leaned in closer. Very close, very warm. As if he was looking for something in Viole. Viole coughed in his face. He stood back

Dilandau brushed his hand against hers making a very confused face.

"Have you ever been with a woman at all?"

"No. Why. . ."

"Me neither. I never could think about it. It leaves me cold."

"Well. . . sir."

Dilandau stared at her "I can't believe someone as pretty as you would ever have a girlfriend."

"I could never. Of all the things to say. I am a decent and god-fearing woman."

At this Dilandau paused and covered his mouth

"You used to be a girl?" Dilandau smirked, "I should have known you were a girl. They are the only ones tough enough to go for the crotch. Of course most commanders wouldn't complain." Dilandau winked as he stood up there with her. Almost lounging. She could not easily connect the two images, Dilandau hardnosed and proper and this boy.

"I've seen you bout. You are magnificent with a sword Deren. It floats in your hand. You're not to shabby in a brawl either. You must join my men."

"I don't know. I have many positions open once I- Why should I join your squad?"

"My men are the best and of the best."

"But I- I might have my own command."

"I warn you. You will die in low command. They will not know your grace and beauty. They will only see your tits."

"I can do it Dilandau."

"Be my Dragon Slayer and you will be a captain too one day."

"You want me to be your lieutenant?"

"I am very fickle Viole-kun. I want you to fight for me. You can have your title or fly with destiny. You can prove your place. That is if you're strong enough to survive me."

Viole looked into his eyes. She felt supported as if she could follow Dilandau into the depths of hell and come out alive. He must be the devil himself.

"I will. I pledge my service, beyond this life. I will be the great warrior. And all the girls born under the stigma of their gender shall know what they may."

Dilandau stared at her that once.

Dilandau held her arm. "Last time it did not work."

"What?"

"I'm not going to be cruel and tell you lies. She did not fit in. She refused. She thought being herself was more important. She suffered horribly. It was my fault. She was unworthy."

"That would apply if I was a woman, Dilandau-sama. I'm not."

Dilandau's eyes danced strangely, confused.

"Will you be a Dragon Slayer, Viole?"

"I'll serve you well."

"I know. You are a good soldier. There isn't a doubt that a woman can't be a good soldier. But can you be a Dragon Slayer first?"

"Yes. I swear. That is who I am now."

Dilandau smiled.

"Dilandau-sama. May I take this picture with me? It will not interfere with my-"

Dilandau pecked her on the cheek "You are adorable, you know."

Dilandau crossed his arms and walked ahead, chuckling.

Late in the night in one room of the Vione two boys were no longer sleeping in one bed.

"Dallet." Guimel let all his guards come down and grabbed his lover.

Dallet wrapped his arms around Guimel "What's with this then? It's not even 3 yet. We have until the 5th hour till I have to go. Did you miss me in Dreamland?" Dallet smiled. He knew that the best thing for Guimel was to forget his dreams and feel safe and silly. It was easier with Dallet their.

"I don't want to sleep."

"Fine then."

"You know that it is worse. Because I never saw him die. I dream a new death each night."

"Guimel."

"I dreamt he was changed into stone after the S-iden took him. Everything, his eyes his skin his clothes, like a Medagarg stared at him. Then I had something else. I dreamt that a strange girl with short hair and a red bow on her chest. She sent her white dragon after you, and it bit Miguel in half."

"Well that is a common dream. They call Van Fanel, the White Dragon, for his protector is Escaflowne."

"Miguel was rather angry and crawled back into his guymelef. And he could operate the Alseides without his footpedals."

Dallet scrunched his eyebrows. That was dreams for you. They never did make sense.

"When you can't see what is going to happen that is worse. I hate the night. I hate it."

"You were never scared of the dark. I thought the dark was scared of you. Because you were so fair haired.

Dallet rested his head "You were always the hero when we played. I didn't think there was a thing that could scare you."

Dallet smiled "Remember when Oni-sama brought us that book about the dragons of Fanelia."

"You wanted to go kill them and then they'd make you king of Fanelia."

"I didn't I just suggested that. You were the one that made me go out and be your squire because you were taller."

Guimel laid back, but kissed Dallet instead. Dallet smiled at him.

"I like touching you, Guimel, It's almost as good as looking at you." Dallet mused, "Sometimes I just want to touch you and close my eyes."

Guimel softly closed his eyes.

"You know, Have you ever thought about wearing a blindfold and then you let someone touch you. . . You never no where it will touch you. It's kind of exciting."

Dallet kept his eyes closed. It was Guimel's scent that assailed him first, soap clean but spicier. He kept himself very clean and smooth. Dallet couldn't even say how wonderful it was too touch him.

His hand skipped. That must be his navel. He placed his finger inside to make sure. Guimel squirmed back.

"Watch it." Guimel snapped.

"It's okay. I'll be careful. Just keep your eyes closed. This will feel good."

Guimel trembled and tried to relax, his eyes shut. Dallet smiled. He wanted to taste his skin. He wanted Guimel to feel his tongue lash hot suction onto his body. He wanted Guimel to feel as good as he looked.

Guimel squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn't see. That was the little game Dallet wanted. He could trust Dallet. He would not have to worry. Dallet was licking his sweet spots on his chest, each one spiking pleasure. This was a good idea to try. Maybe he'd have to try it with the blindfold. He smiled and tried to kiss Dallet. His lips touched his fingertips.

Guimel nibbled the fingers, sucking them slowly into his mouth. Their eyes were closed to each other. Dallet chuckled. Guimel wished he could see Dallet smile. Slowly Dallet withdrew his fingers and kissed Guimel's lips. This was a very nice idea. He could feel Dallet's erection against his leg. It was so hard and hot. Guimel gulped. He could trust him not to hurt or scare him. It felt so strange to feel his lust against him. It was one thing to play with each other but another to feel his cock like this. Guimel shifted. He loved Dallet and he could. . .

Guimel only felt the wet cool fingers invade him. He bucked.

"Please, get off."

Dallet hummed "Yes. Gods. You taste so" Dallet thrust his fingers deeper.

Guimel froze. No no. He didn't like this. It was too dark to. How could he know it was Dallet, how could he know anything. He didn't want the guy touching him like that. He never asked. He just came in the night... Where was Dallet? Where was his Papa? He shoved the guy away hard as he could.

"Dammit get off." He shoved him opening his eyes.

He saw Dallet blink. "Guimel."

Guimel shook his head. "I don't want any of that nasty stuff. It's not-"

"What do you mean?"

"Just keep you fucking cock away from me. It feels. . ."

"Guimel, what's wrong I thought you wanted this, you said. . ."

"This is- I don't like this. I just want to get out of here."

Dallet pet him "You don't have to worry I won't hurt you. I just thought you'd-"

"Dallet-koi. I'm so sorry. I just feel. I don't want it like this. It's just too damn dark."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. We'll just slow down." Dallet pet his chest. "Just look at me. You can look at me. See you know I like your eyes too."

Guimel was going to get up.

"You know when I look in your eyes I am completely stupid. I can't even move."

"Yes."

"One day we'll get around to it. It's going to be so sweet." Dallet kissed his shoulder, "You're going to give it to me and it won't matter if it's in the dark or in the light. Because I love you.

Guimel turned around and kissed him.

Dallet looked in his eyes and his head twitch "Can I buy you something? A present. Then you'll like me more."

Guimel laughed and kissed his lover on the forehead.

Van was in the corner this time in his bed. He didn't even run out of the room this time. He was improving, Dilandau thought as he nursed the bruise on his cheek. Gatti had seen the friendly little bite on his shoulder. Van had a matching one down the right side of his body.

"Come on Tenshi. Come to me." He whispered to the boy. "I won't bite. . . again."

"Maybe tomorrow Dilandau. Folken might come-" Dilandau stared sternly at him.

"Come to me Van Fanel."

Van pulled himself to his feet. That lean barbarian body trembling. His loincloth still cinched up tightly

"See it's not so bad. There is no need for your shame."

Van stared at his own feet.

"You've come far in your journey Van, my tenshi-sama." Dilandau said brushing strands out of Van's eyes. His gloved hands slid against his body.They kissed deeply. Van trembled deeply. It was only Dilandau keeping him from falling over.

"You must give yourself over to Zaibach." He backed the young Prince against the wall.

As Dilandau kissed him, he tried to feel the wall. Ignore the fire burning his lips, the cruelty stabbing against his thigh

"Take off your loincloth."

Van stared up, eyes liquid with shame and fear. Dilandau untied the ends of it.

"Let me have your body. I won't hurt you tonight." Dilandau said almost with honesty

The cloth fell away revealing Van's naked body. Van was a joy to look at. Dilandau had to smile. That was his glory. Van may have had the strange guymelef, but there was no one who could look as appetizing as he did naked, trembling, thick tears coming out of his eyes, trapping those thick eyelashes like flies in a web.

Dilandau kissed him. Van placed his arms over his head trying to submit, to let Dilandau take what he deserved. Dilandau held his wrists against the wall. Van made a weak little noise, as Dilandau offended him again and again with that mouth. . ..

Van began panting in fear as Dilandau finally threw aside his loincloth.

"Please Dilandau. Just tomorrow. I promise." He muttered.

Dilandau let him fall to the ground.

He closed his eyes.

Dilandau played with his chest.

"Please leave me alone." Van shivered. Dilandau kissed his neck. Van squirmed a little. The prey was trying to escape him. It would make it so much sweeter when Van was under him panting like an animal. It would make the pleas for his kisses with his eyes louder. He wanted to feels his wanton hips curving up into his body. All the while, his lips were begging him to stop, the words sucked away by his body's urge.

"You can't do this to me I am King of Fanelia." Van tried to shove him away.

"Good for you." Dilandau said. "I'm going to play with the king, tonight." Dilandau tickled his thigh. Van bit his lip as Dilandau traced his finger upwards into Van's genitals.

"You still won't give yourself to me. Zaibach can't trust you." He only smoothed the sweat against his cock. Just a stroke.

"Just get out. . ." Van cried, and answered with a kiss, betrayed himself again. Van collapsed into that sweet hot bond.

Dilandau pressed Van's naked form into the bed. He knelt over Van's thighs pressing them out gingerly as if he were making his bed. Dilandau stood over him. He caressed his manhood gently, handling and starting his erection. His fingers smoothing the flesh along his balls. Van looked up at him with feverish eyes.

The candlelight painted him in fire. Dilandau looked like something made out of paint. So bold and unreal like something that was meant to scare children and stir up lust in adults. Van waited for Dilandau, spread over the blankets, feeling like nothing.

Van waited for the kisses to fall. They did. Dilandau couldn't resist tracing his lips and tongue over Van's flesh, sending the blank and hollow sensation to his brain. His teeth don't exist until kissing was no longer enough. He sucked on the flesh in strange strangling noises. All the while awakening his lust with his soft hand.

Van shuddered at the sounds of his own mouth.

"Yes Tenshi. Touch me."

Van's fingers clawed into his flesh. He felt the gentle scratch of his nails sliding into Dilandau's skin past the layers, down to the pain. It must have stung. He paid attention to his fingers in Dilandau's skin. They became an anchor in the world of the mouth and his gentle hand.

He was disappearing into feeling, as tight as he clawed into Dilandau. He was afraid. He was so afraid. Now his body felt comfortable and safe and tired. His nails raked through the layers of Dilandau's skin.

Feeling was so dangerous. He cried, anything to stop feeling. He wasn't afraid of the way Dilandau was making him feel. It was too big. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to stop it. If he could just think or reason about it, he could live through it. There would be no pain in it. He was doing what he had to, to save his life. It would make Dilandau trust him, and easier to manipulate.

But if he felt too much. Too much confusion, his nerves and body being played like a flute, Dilandau's lips at his head: sucking, kissing and blowing into him. His hands and fingers covering, coaxing and manipulating his most intimate and vulnerable regions, like the frets in a pipe. He had no idea how he should feel, but he did.

Then there were the frightening feelings. When he hated his body for this. When he should have killed Dilandau for this disgrace. Beyond even the acute sensation of this feeling the idea running through his brain, like a religion. /I should kill him. I don't want to kill him. I'm supposed to want to kill him. I don't want to kill him./

That was the worst of it. His feelings were telling him things he knew were wrong. That is why he was afraid.

Dilandau kissed him and the world went blank. Delicious seconds past in pure sensation. He leaned back.

"Hmmm. This is nice." Dilandau said drumming his fingers over Van's taut abdomen and blazing groin. Van closed his eyes.

"Isn't that nice? Tenshi"

"It's-" Van's voice felt so weak. There was not enough strength in him for a word. Van didn't know what to answer. Anything that feels so good and wonderful is wrong. He's the one making me feel this way. That made it worse than poison or pain.

"Do you like it?" Dilandau kissed him licking his eyes like a kitten. "You do."

Dilandau's loose hair fell all over the strange tiara, brushing against his stomach. His hair was very stimulating, he noticed quietly. It looked like a starburst. Van brushed it away, only to have it tumble back. No wonder he wore that against his chest. He sighed. Dilandau ran his fingers through his black hair. His hair flipped back over his eyes.

"Well Van. I really do think you had better undress me." Dilandau said.

He wouldn't have far to go. Van's hands pried themselves out of his back, along the silky ties of his undershirt. It felt like floating. He just wanted this to end so he could sleep. Dilandau petted him as his own shirt came off.

Van sighed. How he wanted to hurt that flesh, dominating him like this.

Van's teeth dug into Dilandau's chest over his nipple. Dilandau groaned.

"Hmmmm. I have to watch out for those teeth."

Van clamped his teeth and Dilandau's nipple. And he shuddered too."That hurts."

Van only released his tongue a little before biting again. Dilandau squealed.

"MMM?" Why are you acting like this? He asked. But his eyes weren't protesting.

Dilandau would have to take his pleasure with an edge of pain, some evidence of Van's presence.

Van wept and muttered something quiet out of Dilandau's ear."No, no no."

Was it a prayer? Was it a curse? He didn't even know himself. When could he leave? Must he feel everything in the world before he could escape?

Van's wings burst out and bucked him forward. And explosion of white feathers surrounded them. This was new. Van had been able to control his wings before. Now in the panicked flight they burst out. They couldn't flap in this tiny room. They trembled and stiffened. As if they were but the outer manifestation of his soul. The need to fly and the fear to go.

Van blinked and blushed.

"Please don't look at me."

Dilandau was overcome, staring at him with such softness in his eyes

"Stop looking at me, as if I were nothing. Stop it."

"I like to look at you. You're so beautiful. You are the only one I can look at." Dilandau pet his hair out of his eyes "Why are you trying to run?"

"I don't want to feel this. You hurt me Dilandau. I don't like it when you look at me."

"I don't mean too." Dilandau kissed him.

"I know. But you know it is all a lie. You know what I am inside. You know and I can't hide it anymore. You know how I- You know my secrets." Van wept silvery tears against his pale skin. "You know what I am."

"Yes, you are beautiful."

"Anything can be beautiful. You are beautiful." Van let it slip out.

"I never want to look away."

"Why don't you see this curse? Can't you see I am a demon?"

"Tenshi. You are my demon. Whatever you are I have conquered it and I desire it." Dilandau said.

Van looked up at him

"I like your wings. They're pretty."

"Do you think so?"

"They are the wings of an angel. If I love them how can they be ugly?"

"Do you really think they are pretty?"

"Of course I do."

He kissed their thick knots of muscles, brushing his fingers through feathers.

Van tilted his head back and hummed sweet noises as Dilandau continued kissing his body. Dilandau kissed him.

"Don't stop. I like your hands on me too." Dilandau said "I even like it even when I can't see you."

The next day Folken decided would be the perfect opportunity to take Van to the armourers. It would not be long until this storm cleared up and Narya could come and get him.

Folken looked at the bruise on his neck, really red. It was the strangest thing. He thought that it would have cleared up. Instead it was paired with one along his hip. Van closed the dressing door and Folken decided that it could not harm him too badly. Swordcraft often left strange bruises. Van would think he didn't trust him.

The frock coat style was all the rage. Having a modern elegance that full plate could not. Van could wear a different collar than the Dragon Slayers and the regular soldiers his throat clasp was the royal crest. Van cast aside any hope of wearing a helmet. It did give him a childish appearance. Van tsked and grumbled through the process. He had no love of fine armor there was no doubt. If he could have he would have addressed the assembly in that red shirt and cloth breeches.

But Van insisted. Folken watched his brother. He saw flashes of a younger boy, carefully watched in all manner of deportment, dress, and carriage; Van being scolded for nodding his head, cuffed for slouching. No one could enjoy that. Folken had been as schooled as Van. Van had the eyes that knew someone was watching him.

Folken knew that his tutor was strict in her understanding of royal comportment. Folken had received Mistress Lemeon's training too. That menacing grace was a result of too many swats on the shoulder with a paper fan. The joke in Zaibach said that Folken seemed to float in his Madoushi cape, like a bat. It did lend to his presence. They thought that it was natural to act like a king. That was absurd. No one could stand that straight forever. No one could walk for all that way and not rest his hand upon a pole, or his hip. They thought it natural to be a king, something you were born into.

Van remained so aware that were looking at him. Disgarding reds so he would not be associated with the Dragon Slayers. He disgarded three styles of cape (he didn't want a full cape and risk being associated with Madoushi. To make himself appear more distinctive and Fanelian he decided upon a more elaborate Daedalian buckle. He picked out a yellow sash. It gave him an Eastern, exotic look though his armour was similar. Just different enough to attract attention.

Folken sighed. He only hoped this was not all for naught. Armor was nice, but could it give him the confidence and poise he would need to bluff the Generals of Zaibach. He had seen this boy fall apart in a matter of weeks. He had plunged into the depths of madness. Now he was going to try to start here. He should not rush himself into his duties so quickly. Van would only shrug off and say the country was in crisis and go to do more work. Either he was not good with words, or this address was harder to write than anything Folken could have imagined.

Van would need to justify his continued sovereignty and somehow garner assistance to rebuild and rescue his starving and homeless people. How could he do both? If he needed help how could he say he was a good king? The boy a thousand times in their conversations said he was unworthy. Yet Fanelia needed him. He was so worried he could not sleep. He took to roaming the ship and visiting the Dragon Slayers at odd hours. No wonder Dilandau wanted to kill him. He must have kept all the boys awake during quiet hours. Van was probably going to talk to his friend, Miguel. Van said that the boy had been a slave in Astoria for a while. Folken was uncomfortable and surprised that Van could find such a strange fellow to befriend. He supposed it was Van's nature to be curious and friendly, even if it was not apparent now after all his trials. It was a wonder that Dilandau did not complain about him. Fraternizing with his men. Perhaps he had been lucky and Dilandau realized that he was outmatched by his brother and it would be best to leave him alone.

Van looked at himself. He was short. The Gods would never grant him any height even amoung boys his own age. He could not even match Dilandau. He was a short boy in black armor with wide eyes. They were so large.

He looked at his face, at the tiny imperceptible scab on his chin, from some cut. He picked it off at blood rushed forth. What was worse despite the fact he was short and small and dark as a little speck he was mortal. There would be nothing there to save him from his fate when he died. The blood gelled over his wound.

He broke the bead of blood with his thumb and looked at it. Then he placed it on his forehead in a red dot. Soft.

He tried to remember when he first saw it, a dot of blood on dry skin. It was ochre then, on his mothers blue pale face.

*Flashback* "When you put this on, it is not you they can see. They can see this dot. This red blood sun. When you wear this no one will see your eyes." She said, she touched his face.

"Will I be invisible? Like the wind."

"Someone will find you." She said. "The one who was meant to. They will see everything and never close their eyes. Their eyes will never ever leave you. They will watch you until they die. That is the soul bond."

She grabbed his face, and makes her look into those black eyes "It is very bad thing to be watched. Be so careful Van or you will never escape. And everything that you hold onto will tie you closer and tighter to this world. If you get to close they will shoot you down. And I want you to be free. That would make me happy if you don't know what I am talking about."

"Mama."

"Listen to me. Be Careful about all that watch you. It's bad manners to look on a king. It will rip you apart. It will bind you to the ground. I looked at a king once and I've been on this Earth since. You will never fly once you are bound by another. For those cannot be broken."

She panted and held his face between her two hands.

"Do you understand me. Don't let them look at you, Van."

"Mama."

She looked at him bewildered for one second as if she were holding something ugly in her hands, not his face but some piece of dirt.

"I love you, Mama."

She dropped his face and let him down, then she walked away. That was the day that Folken went to the dragon.

He was in the temple praying for guidance and valor. He had been there so long like a night. The Gods would bless him with a good kill. He would return and Folken would stand before the four generals and show the Drag energist. And Mama would be happy again. She would not scare him and would not be scared. She would no longer act peculiar. She would not break windows with her strange silent war songs whose inhuman tones were not her voice. She would not tear down the tapestries anymore. Her dark claret eyes wouldn't be like dark moons, and she would not walk like she wasn't living. She would be happy.

He had wanted his mother to be happy again. Had she ever been happy again? Had she ever found one moment before her life had started again?

***

Van looked into the deadness of another's face.

In that flying ship he stood alone about to enter a room of men who would see him dead or a slave. He worried the red paste into his skin on his forehead, and no one was there. No one would see him.

In the assembly, the generals, Adelphos and Helio, the honor guard of the general, the Dragon Slayers, the Honor Guard of Adelphos and of course the battle crew of the Vione.

"You will not need to shout."

"How will they hear me?"

"The microphone will handle the noise for you." Folken nodded. "It will make your voice loud enough at normal level."

"Really?"

"It is designed that way. Speak at normal voice otherwise it will be too loud. When I was addressing the Madoushi they made fun of me for this."

"Anything else? A monster won't steal my soul and say my address so I won't have to."

The addressing hall seemed dark and limitless except for the strange screen of black glass floating in the machine from which Dornkirk spoke. The hall was so black. While the Dragon Slayers were familiar, the others seemed only a faceless wall of blackness. Van walked to the podium.

The Dragon Slayers didn't really turn their heads, that would be a breach of protocol. But they did blink and gawk.

The King of Fanelia was clad in black armor glorious and tall, his green cape and strong stance. He wore only a fine band of gold no thicker than a string with two dots of ochre paste on his forehead. He stormed in. This was the King of Fanelia, the prince they had been smuggling, transformed and revealed to them. It hadn't seemed real to them.

He approached the podium and looked down on the assembly. An audible breath against the microphone escaped his lips. His voice, rich and strong and dead like a broken gong began to ring.

"I am Van Fanel, son of Goau, son of Fieusas, son of Korous, son of Lesser Jaris, son of Goau, son of Alkou, son of the Great Jaris, son of Daolous, son of Peneous who was the youngest son of Nausicaa, Great Empress of the Far Sea, the man fated to destroy the first dragon and named King of Fanelia."

"As due to the right of Kingship by your own law, a King is treated with the honor and respect as accorded to the sovereignty of his own realm. And I applaud such prudence. A kingdom can be nothing without her king to defend her rights and dignity in the face of the world. And I come to you, despite trial and misdirection as King of Fanelia. Her champion and defender in this dark time."

"I was almost slain along with the hope of salvation and retribution of the people from the attack of our most holy and sacred citadel. I have survived to approach your Emperor with a reasoned and most painful compromise. I come to surrender."

There was no noise. Dilandau rolled his eyes.

"In our surrender I only wish that from this day our nations will be united to achieve the ideal and perfect destiny. We tell this. We shall fall to the commitment of Umae Kayim."

"That is why, we have made it our cause to aide and abed the invasion of Astoria."

Folken blinked.

Dilandau smirked."Alliance with Fanelia?"

"Our complete and total harmony, and the effort of our troops and warriors to achieve this purpose."

"You think we'd let your backward rednecks fight with us." Dilandau muttered. General Adelphos raised his eyebrow. Trust Dilandau to say what was on everyone's mind

"Despite our rustic and redneck nature. My Samurai are renowned and feared for their bravery. And I am still alive. That is some mark that you had valued my life. As the pilot of Escaflowne, I do have some effect, some humble role to play in the war for our perfect destiny, a destiny in which the sting and misery of war shall be healed. So shall end the cycle of ignorance and suffering in my kingdom. In this treaty I will fight for Zaibach. Otherwise, you might as well kill me here. It is the king's right to declare surrender to your Empire, and only for the Emperor himself to judge what shall happen to my sovereignty."

Dilandau's eyes glittered.

Adelphos addressed the king.

"We could not change our battle plans to accomadate you. The situation that arose at the death of Allen Schezar has created a problem with our allies. We must move faster than we had intended."

Van didn't let the question form in his brow. He had not heard that. He would not.

"As you know, I have only been recently informed on the attack on the Crusade. In the Crusade's attempt to engage the Vione, Commander Folken was forced to open fire. He struck down the ship and it crashed. The Kingdom is most eager to speak. The Princess Millerna may be a problem. She demands we withdraw from our stronghold in the Fanelian border immediately."

"She's only a spoiled idealistic brat. King Fassa will not listen to her." Helio said.

"She probably had a crush on that Schezar chap. Shameless man. He had his fortress full of foreign whores, drunkards and brigands. Any scum that survived the Death of Fanelia. I'm glad I burned that place down to the ground." Dilandau said smiling, "He was embracing her in my presence. Shameful."

Van felt as if he swallowed a stone, but he hadn't heard anything.

"She probably has no idea what we are really planning. No one does. She's just a girl." Dilandau said.

Van brushed his thumb against the tips of that finger. Because he didn't hear that. He could not have heard it. He would hear it later and know the truth."

"That is why Folken is going, to smooth them over."

The hall remained silent until the screen rumbled. Van was startled that it was not a painting. He had been warned. The black screen swirled and rumbled as if he were before them. Van was amazed by such magic.

"Your offer will be considered." Dornkirk said, "We are eager to speak further Great Dragon."

The generals looked at the screen. Their emperor was going to listen. They nodded.

"In gesture of our faith we shall issue a decree among my people, the war with Zaibach is over, in exchange for the king's services as a warrior."

Adelphos wandered to the back of the room out the door as the king greeted the captains. He did not want to touch that slippery, uppity little bumpkin.

Helio followed him.

"General Adelphos. It seems Dilandau and your men got entertainment out of this nonsense. It could be funny."

"I don't find it humorous. I destroyed Fanelia and he dares to defy us still. We should strike him down before he has enough power to strike back." Adelphos frowned.

"I don't think we should eliminate him. He could be a very useful tool."

"He is one pilot. He is not as amazing as he thinks he is."

"As a spy he could be of use. A lone king in search of vengeance, fled from the Zaibach empire. We could learn if Astoria's pledge was true. If they are true they will cast him out."

"Or dispose of him for us." Adelphos smiled.

"I like that. If Dornkirk agrees to this lunacy." Helio shook his head, "Then we'll see how eager he is to help us. We will send him to Freid, his brother won't be able to follow him their. Under our Treaty, the Duke must kill him if he declares himself an enemy of Zaibach."

"Excellent. I was getting tired of worrying about him. I hoped Dilandau would have killed him by now. You know tied him to a bed naked and lit him on fire or whatever those Anti-sexuals do. Our Dilandau is a pervert in more ways than one."

"How so?"

"He likes boys. He failed the Gender Propriety test four times."

"Four times. He must be having a naughty time with that barbarian."

"No haven't you heard. He's an Abolitionist. It says so in all the journals."

Helio laughed, "You read that trash?"

"My Nieces drop it in my lap when I get a free break. They each want to marry and hope I will introduce them."

Dilandau walked heavily along not listening to their prattle.

"Captain."

"General Helio.

"How are you Captain Albatou."

"I fare well General. I'm waiting for our next victory."

"Quite a display. None will dare question the might of Adelphos's men"

Dilandau blinked "I should be insulted. I was the one burned Fanelia myself. It is an ash heap. The castle is a pile of ancient smoking stones. What kingdom does he have?"

"As for this speech, what do you think of his gaul?"

"Gaul? I'll admit but he is not above himself. He is the finest warrior who ever lived. He is worth an army of spoiled obnoxious Astorians. He is glorious."

"You seem impressed by him."

"Impressed, is not the word. He is a lovely creature."

"You burned it down and he is the one who will destroy it."

"I did that all without one glance or word from Adelphos but where. I would think he needs me more than I need him."

"Your triumph in Fanelia is not going unnoticed, Captain. But you must not say things that make you sound like a foolish boy."

"And as for my party, sirs I am not old enough to vote. I haven't reached Plurality. Personally I don't think the Abolitionists would have me. Tell your nieces Dilandau Albatou greeted them warmly." Dilandau said. That ought to end their useless gossip. He walked passed them and bowed to the king.

Helio smiled, "I knew it. He has been in his bed. The little worthless jackal has caught himself a prince."

Adelphos smiled "It might be easiest to let him handle the Prince for now. Until it becomes convenient to eliminate them both. If Dilandau can survive his next battle."

"You realize the second he thinks he is your heir Adelphos he will kill you."

"He's nothing. A moody, undersexed, psychotic, emotional bastard. He isn't fit to clean my boots. Zaibach will be a better place when he and his benighted Dragon Slayers are dead and forgotten. I just hope he has his fun with that uppity barbarian. I hope they rip each other's throats out."

Dilandau bowed to Van. Along with the rest of the Dragon Slayers in unison. The Captain of the Green Beta Squadron bowed to Van. The Generals saluted. Then He turned to Folken who bowed low to his brother. He patted Folken on the head twice as was custom for the royal family. It was a ridiculous sight to watch the elder brother bow before the younger.

The King left as the Fanelian fanfare left the room after him.

But it was Van who went into his grey room and slumped into the ground. He wept into his cape, tearing it around him hiding from the pain. His mouth wrapping around the cloth. The red ochre sliding down his face with his tears. Folken walked in the room.

"Van."

Van sat up.

"It's alright. I'm here."

The paint fell from his face dripping like bloody tears.

"Folken."

Folken wrapped his arms around him.

"There is- Do not weep. They gave their lives to achieve a greater destiny. If you cry and lose your hope how can their deaths mean anything."

Van stood up, "And have none mourn them? You will not tell me how to feel. You will never do that. They were... They were only helping me..."

Folken turned his brother around and lifted his head. He let Van look at him as he spoke these words.

"You will not grieve. You did nothing."

Van's face was leaking red over his nose

"Don't cry. You have no reason to cry. It is not your burden."

Van let the tears flow and run across his chin, without wiping them, without touching them.

"I killed them. It was all me Van. Hate me but do not despair. I sent the order to destroy their levistone. They crashed so we would not be implicated."

"I don't hate you-"

"Hate me all you wish for my sins. But do not take them as yours. I never want you to suffer for what I have done."

Van began crying again, just the tears, no words.

"Then get out of my life. Leave me alone. Then you won't have to worry about it." Van hissed.

Van looked at him. His eyes were so cold, like he was looking at something in a menagerie. As if he Folken was no longer something human. But some bizarre and terrible creature.

"Do not talk to me. I will come to you when I can look at you again." Van said, he turned away.

Folken felt the heat of his own eyes. His throat felt as if he had swallowed part of his eyes. He tried to swallow the tears still in his eyes, and his the nose in his nose blocked.

"I am sorry, Van. This war makes us do terrible things." Tears across his nose, he wiped them away. Van let his own trickle off his chin bright red. Could someone cry blood?

"Yes. But that does not make you right either. Only what you do. Not even what you feel, that's what makes you right."

Folken bowed his head low, in gesture of a serf and walked out of the room.

********