Le Jeune Guilavene

Chapter 16:

“Dilandu, are you alright?” Van asked his newly resurrected demon.
The little albino was groaning and grumbling in his demon language something that sounded particularly unpleasantly. He rotated his jaw every so often, but otherwise appeared unharmed. The pale boy did not reply, and the hunter decided if there was nothing he would complain about openly to his master, then he was probably fine.
“Good. Let’s go,” the dark child commanded, sprinting towards the palace before Dilandu could question.
The demon made a surprised cry and quickly ran after him. Van had summoned him only a moment ago, apparently after escaping the Strategos. How he managed that Dilandu had no idea. However, the mortal was clearly upset by the encounter. He smelled of saline, sweat, and most unfortunately Folken. Van had appeared angry when he was resummoned, not at him mind you, but at the same time there was a nervousness to gestures.
“Van, where are we going,” Dilandu demanded, as he caught up with the speeding youth.
Sure they wanted to get out of Palas fast, but a little stealth was a good idea at the moment. Never mind that he himself had been acting just as reckless a moment ago. But that was after a good bashing from the winged bastard.
“To find Folken’s servant, the one you said was distracting everyone,” the boy replied as they crossed through the palace’s elegant gold columned doors and down the nearest corridor.
Van unsheathed Escaflowne, preparing for company. He could have gone around the massive estate, but the Strategos’ words had instilled in him a sense of urgency and this was the quickest way off the royal estate and into the city.
“Okay... Why?” Dilandu continued.
“Because, I think I\'m being set up for something. If I stop whatever he has planned, I might be able to prove my innocence,” the hunter explained tartly, and would not answer any more questions.
Dilandu mentally sighed. This was madness.. however, if it was Zongi they were after… A cruel smile graced the embittered prince and thoughts of revenge swam in his dark mind.

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Zongi tightened his grip on the blonde child as he took another sharp right, struggling to keep balance. The boy kept struggling and making so much noise. He was being very irritating. When the shape shifting demon had take him, he had wanted to attract attention, but this was a little much!
Not even a dozen paces behind him and struggling to keep up, appeared to be half the royal guard and some very irate looking demon hunters. They were all armed to the teeth, and he would have likely been skewered by several arrows by now, if it were not for his young hostage.
Zongi truly hoped Folken had gotten what he had come for. He did not want to do this again.
The dopplegangeued ued ued his merry chase through the city, peeved at humanity for having such confusing street lay outs and wondering how he had managed to get from a fish market to the slums in a span of two blocks.
Allen stubbornly kept pace with seemingly tireless Guilavene, his legs burning and his chest aching. He had already sent out several guards trn trn the sentries at the city gate to be prepared, while he, Balgus, Miguel, Dryden (who had surprised them all by keeping up), and several of Balgus’ men chased the fugitive towards the town square, where he could be boxed in on all sides. This was all well and good, except they did not know what they were going to do about Prince Chid.
Fear for his cousin spurred the prince to continue, feeling this was all somehow his fault. He had driven Guilavene to this, hadn’t hehethhether this was true or not was irrelevant. The royal family was his responsibility, if anything happened to Chid he would never forgive himself and nor would the Queen.
“Does this guy ever stop?’ moaned Dryden breathlessly, ‘He’s inhuman.”
Silently, Allen agreed, though not because the boy was so physically active.
The fugitive took yet another sharp turn into narrow alley. The Captain of the Royal Guard felt a surge of excitement. That lead directly to the city square. Guilavene would be trapped.
Sure enough, as Zongi entered the open space (already evacuated of citizens) he knew it had been a mistake. The square was actually a great circle, almost seventy paces in diameter with a great mosaic of the silver and cursed moons. Skirting the edges, were several abandoned booths displaying various types of merchandise. At the center a fountain of the seven holy beasts stood, their gaping mouths pouring forth purified water from the Mother ocean herself.
And blocking every road, alley, and shop window was at least seventy soldiers.
Zongi frowned, looking back the way he came, but it was already filled with demon hunters. Moving further into the square, the shape shifter readjusted Chid in his arms so that the boy was standing, but held with hand around his throat and his sword pointed towards his belly. The young blonde finally ceased his cries and remained still under this obvious threat of death. At this moment, when his life was so very close to ending, it seemed almost ludicrous to him when he noticed Van appeared to have acquired another sword. This one was slightly curved like Escaflowne, only it was decorated with silver and green gold, an elegant swirl of the dark green metal forming the symbol of eternity. Chid wonder where exactly did his abductor get these swords? And where did he hide them all?!
“Van,” the prince found himself saying.
Zongi paused at the mention of the name, glancing down at his hostage.
“Why are you doing this? You said you didn’t mean any harm,” Chid said softly, fearing he would somehow anger him.
The doppleganger did not understand the Austorian language, having chosen to study Friedian instead at his master’s request. However, he thought the child seemed to know his master’s prey from somewhere and was perhaps pleading for mercy? If this was so, the demon decided to take him to the Strategos as well, and maybe his master could use him as bait?
But first things first. He had to get out of here.
From the corner of his vision, he perceived a soldier moving forward. He snapped his head towards the man, tightening his grip around the boy’s throat. Chid made a choked sound, his hands instinctively reaching up with his hands to loosen the hold. Immediately, the soldier scrambled backwards as well as few other men to their original posts. Mentally, Zongi sighed in relief. He could get through this, if he was cautious.
Allen watched helplessly, feeling frustrated and angry at his own inability to fix this. Beside him, Dryden placed a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. The swordsman looked to the merchant. Quietly, the merchant whispered into his ear.
“Have faith, your Highness. This is fate unfolding. The Gods will protect him,” the brunette assured him.
Something about his certainty comforted Allen. However, the prince was a man of action not of faith, and fate was cruel more often than not. He fixed his blue eyes on Guilavene, silently cursing ho tho the 7th level of hell and rebirth as an insect.
Balgus remained silent, studying the boy closely. He did indeed look to be the son of his old friend and comrade in arms, Gaou Guilavene. The dark hair and skin, the strong shoulders, and lithe body. He was a bit short, but that was his Frescan ancestry shining through. However, his dark eyes were... strange. Not really empty, but too deep to see any emotion or thoughts. Gaou and Varie had always been very expressive people, with intense brown eyes. Could this blank faced youth truly be their child?
The great hunter turned back to his men, to a tall bald man in particular. Maro was a middle aged and highly experienced hunter who had been part of Balgus’ band since its formation almost fifteen years ago, and had proven his reliability time and again. Catching his leader’s gaze, he nodded silently and slowly backed away out of the alleyway and disappeared, cocking his small single handed crossbow as he went.

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“Let me go, Luca! I have to go help Chid! He is my friend!: Merle screamed, struggling in the nursemaid\'s arm.
The middle-aged woman, overly round and motherly, fought to maintain her grip on the irate girl. The second the demi-demon had heard the news of Chid’s abduction, she had tried storming off after him against all logic. Luca had barely had time to stop here, and even now she found herself being drug closer and closer the nearest palace exit.
“You mustn’t, Miss Merle! The men are taking care of it! There is nothing you can do,” Luca admonished.
The hybrid girl turned sharply in her hands, surprising her.
“Why!? Why can’t I help him? Is it because I’m a girl?! Can only men ever do anything important, and women have to sit around and mind the children?! What a load of crap!” Merle screamed, and tore herself from the woman’s grip and sprinted for the door.
Luca sat dumbfounded and a little frightened at her outburst. Merle had always been a little tenacious and more rambunctious than was suitable for a lady, but she rarely lost her temper like that. She watched the feline child thrust open the doors and disappeared into the sunlight.
Merle blinked as she was momentarily blinded by the glaring afternoon sun. She had made it.. sort of. Luca would not be able to catch up to her now, so she should be able to reach Chid- hopefully in time. She did not know what she could do that the other’s could not, but that was not the point. The little prince was her best friend. It was her duty to at least try and help. Besides, Van was involved. She had to know what had happened to make him betray them.
Suddenly, a piercing scream rang up from behind her. She stopped in her tracks and whirled around. A second later two figures appeared through the already opened doors, the sound the woman screaming still ringing out behind them. The young hybrid stared in amazement at the two approaching figures.
Dilandu?
LORD VAN?!
But that was impossible. He had just kidnapped the prince and was running around the city with half the Austorian army after him... Wasn’t he?
Van ran steadily towards her, and she was too stunned to even think of possible danger. Behind him, Dilandu was looking excited and smug with a mischievous grin on his lips. Both boys paused momentarily next to her.
“Where are they, Merle?” Van demanded.
She just stood gapping at him, not understanding his question.
“They are over there. You can see them from up here,” the albino said shortly, pointing out over the blue domed roofs of the city to a large open space not that far from the tournament stadium.
The hunter turned his attention away from the girl to where Dilandu indicated. Sure enough he could make out a crowd of indistinct figures in dark uniforms milling about. He nodded to the demon and they continued running, leaving a very confused Merle staring after them.
In a matter of seconds they had disappeared over the currently unguarded palace gates and behind a series of mansions along the curved road. The demi-demon blinked and then tensed.
“Stupid,” she muttered to herself about herself, and then sprang after them.
“Hey! Wait for me!”

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Tension ran high in the city square. The fugitive still had hold of his trump card, but the soldiers refused to let him leave the place despite his threat against his hostage. Allen knew if they let him get away, Chid would likely be found dead or not at all. With his back to the fountain, ‘Guilavene’ kept a persistent hold of a tiring child under the heat of the afternoon sun.
“You can not escape. Just release Prince Chid and you will be spared,” Allen said, continued.
He had been repeating this over and over again in various manners for a long time now. However, the fugitive had not appeared to hear what he was saying or even acknowledge the elder Prince’s presence. He just kept looking around the square with an almost bored expression.
Zongi was beginning to lose patience. It was hot, he was extremely bored, and the boy was starting to get heavy. He would have to make his getaway soon, whether with his hostage or not depended if they tried anything. His master had likely gotten what he had come for by now, and even if he had not there would still be some time before the human figured out what was going on- if they ever did.
Balgus observed the dark skinned youth’s strange ambivalence, his suspicious nature feeding his unease. Surely, this Guilavene was either mad or had a plan to be so calm in the midst of of certain death.
Cautiously, his one good eye scanned the roof tops in search of his man. Most of the buildings had domed roofs, and were therefore impossible to make a good shot from or even to go unnoticed. However, on the eastern side of the square was an indoor laundry with a flat roof so wet clothing could be hung to dry in the breeze. Flitting about between sheets and shirts, Maro stalked stealthily towards the edge of the building.
Perching behind a ornamental gargoyle, the snipe began calculating the best way in which to make his move. If he did not get this perfect, he was likely to kill the prince and that was not a good thing for anyone. From his position, he was facing the kidnappers left side. This was a good shot, however, if he shot him in the side of the head boy was more likely to spasm and stab Prince Chid.
After a moment\'s thought, he believed he had figured in out and turned towards his commander to receive the okay. The scared man did not turn his head, but simply made a barely perceivable nod. Grinning to himself, Maro turned towards his target and took aim with the small crossbow attached to his arm.
A whistle, like one makes to summon a domesticated animal, echoed through the court and Zongi instinctively turned his head to locate its source. The dart, a small silvery shaft sharpened at one end, embedded itself clean into his temple.
The observers gasped in surprise and looked up to the sole figure perched on the roof of the laundry. Maro smirked down at them, and gave a little mock salute to Balgus, who merely nodded approvingly. Chid, not knowing what had happened, remained still in his kidnappers suddenly tense grip. The boy was surprised then when he saw the other men were smiling and sighing in relief. His cousin, Allen, seemed the most relieved of all and was coming towards him.
But then he froze, a look of horror and disbelief etched across his handsome features.
Zongi blinked. What had just happened? It felt like he had been struck by a rock or something. Tentatively, he reached up to where he had been struck. He flinched as he realized their was something lodged with in his skull. Less than gently, he seized the dart, slippery with his black blood, and ripped out the offending object.
“He’s a monster,” Miguel said, staring in disbelief.
“Incorrect,’ Dryden stated, seemingly unsurprised, ‘He is a demon.”
Around him, Zongi heard the men’s horrified voices murmuring about him, but he ignored them. Looking upwards to his would-be assassin, he let out a savage hiss and sent the silvery weapon back to him with powerful thrust of his arm. Maro did not have the time to dodge, and the dart struck him clean in the eye. The assassin let out a agonizing scream, quickly losing his bearings and fell from the roof. He was dead on impact.
This, unfortunately, Chid did see. He let a terrified scream and attempted break away from his captor. Zongi quickly returned his hand to around the boy’s throat, stifling the child’s cries in his throat. The demon’s hand was wet and reeked of blood, causing the boy to become even more frightened and start to claw at ‘Van’s’ bloodied hand.
Again, Allen found himself helpless. He could not come any closer without provoking ‘Guilavene‘, but with Chid’s frantic thrashing, the boy was likely to accidentally impale himself on his abductors sword.
“May Gods damn you, Guilavene! I knew your true nature would reveal itself eventually,” Allen hissed hatefully.
“Oh shut up, your Highness!”
Everyone looto tto the North, including the pseudo Van, at the sudden shout. A group of soldiers standing guard in front of an alley found themselves sprawled across the ground as a pale vicious demon charge through them, sending them flying with blows from his deceptively powerful limbs. As this path was clear, the real Van Guilavene sprang out, Escaflowne drawn and ready.
Zongi watched stunned, as the young man let out a savage battle cry and charged him. He came to his sense just in time to lift his sword to block the swordsman’s powerful blow. With his sword lifted to block Van’s, only his blood slicked hand kept his hostage from escaping. However, he soon found himself deprived of even that as yet another surprise guest darted through the wet spray of the fountain and between the two fighter’s bodies, tackling the blonde child from his grasp.
Chid let out a gasp of surprise and discomfort as he hit the uneven blue and silver pebbles of the artful floor. He opened his eyes to see a very welcome sight. Merle looked down at him with wide worried eyes. The hybrid looked back to the fighters, know locked in mortal combat, and realized that were not far enough away. Quickly, she pulled the still disoriented prince to his feet and helped him back to the safety of Allen’s men.
Meanwhile, Vanght ght savagely with his doppleganger. The strangeness of fighting ‘himself’ was not lost on the young man, but the anger of having his identity stolen prevented any form of hesitance. However, despite the shapeshifter’s initial surprise, he quickly recovered and began matching the mortal move for move, even managing to get in a few hits himself.
The crowd watched in amazement at the twin fighters danced around the fountain, their blades flashing in the afternoon sun. Oressressed in the clothing of a country youth and the other in those of an aristocrat, with an extra sword strapped to his back. With increasing speed they struck at one another, forcing each other this way and that. Once, the twin dressed in white forced the other to jump back over the fountain so that when his ivory sword missed its target, one of the holy beasts lost their head. The resulting mad spray from the decapitated statue forced both combatants apart briefly, before they reunited on the other side of the fountain.
As Balgus watched them, he realized which one was the true son of Guao. The boy with the two blades had his father’s temper, and pure rage he exhibited during battle was a familiar sight. Even if this was one of the most bizarre fights he had ever seen.
Chid turned to Merle, confusion evident in his expression.
“What is this?”
The hybrid just shrugged and turned her attention back to the battle.
Dilandu, who was now standing beside a fruit stall, watched the battle keenly. He wanted to be the one to destroy the bastard who had imprisoned him in that damned sword. It was his right to avenge himself. However, he also enjoyed watching Van. Hn.. two Vans, even.
The demon prince glance to his right, noticing that one of the demon hunter’s was staring at him instead of the fight. Mentally, the albino grinned at the attention. Outwardly, he sent the handsome young man a seductive smile annt hnt him a kiss.
Miguel blushed scarlet at having been caught staring. He quickly turned his gaze to the sword fight.
Allen, for his part, was too surprised and too confused to order his men to stop them both. Dryden was next to him now, watching the two Guilavene’s with serious expression.
“I told you, this is fate,’ he whispered into the blonde’s ear, ‘Pay attention.”
Van continued his fight, oblivious to everything except his opponent, who was beginning to over power him. The doppleganger, a master of disguise and infiltration, had already begun to read the mortal’s moves, adopting some of them himself to fend the dark youth off. Excitement coursedoughough Zongi. He understood now why his master had chosen this one. There was so much potential for greatness there. So much power. However, in that frail human body he still had no chance of winning this duel.
“Foolish boy,’ Zongi crooned to him, ‘I will present you to my master as I did the demon prince. And again, I will be at his right hand again, while his bitches clutch for scraps beneath his table.”
Van had no clue what he was saying, as it was a strange demon language, but he knew it was not a good thing. A quick burst of speed and feigned move to the right, presented the opportunity he needed. He thrust forward, his blade piercing his doppleganger’s stomach. He continued forward, pressing his blade deeper and deeper into the surprised demon, until their chests were almost touching.
The mortal stood nose to nose with his twin, staring himself in the eyes. Endlessly deep brown eyes regarded him blankly, and for a just a split instant he was transported back into the Fanelian forest on his sixteenth birthday.
The garuuk... the garuuk had had that exact same expression.
A sudden grin, half mad with glee, spread across his demonic twin’s face. An excruciating pain enveloped him. He stared unbelieving at the Strategos’ servant who regarded him arrogantly, then looked down at his stomach. He found himself skewered on the impostor’s silver and green sword, his blood spilling freely from the wound and soaking his white shirt. He screamed as Zongi stepped away from him, freeing bfromfrom their respective blades. Van immediately fell to the ground and clutched his wound with his left hand. In his right, he still clung stubbornly to Escaflowne.
The fallen swordsman let out another groan of pain. Damn! This had hurt a lot more than Folken’s shoulder wound. Struggling weakly towards the fountain, he managed to prop himself up against the stone basin. His impostor watched him smugly, knowing he had already won. Slowly, casually Zongi moved towards Van, now prepared to take his master’s prize and go.
The demon paused, however, when the dark child looked up at him and smiled dangerously. Two short words escaped the youth’s lips, but he did not know their meaning.
Zongi did not notice Escaflowne glowing a dull blue before it was too ate.
Dilandu, with speed no one had yet to match, shot across the square in a white blur to suddenly bury his clawed hand into the doppleganger’ back. The pseudo Guilavene withered in the demon prince’s hand, his face filled with horror and pain. This human visage melted away, revealing his true form.
Tall, thin, with gray skin and black markings decorating his body. His face, neither ugly nor handsome, was long and angular with black braids drooping from his head and down his back. His eyes, as deep as ever, were now also a strange shade of green with a black loop in them, instead of a solid pupil.
After a moment of searching, Dilandu grinned as he found what he was looking for. Savagely, he ripped his arm from Zongi’s body, a bloody mass held in his hand. The doppleganger fell limp and lifeless across the ground, his black blood spilling across the dull gray stones of the silver moon.
Above him, the demon prince stared down in delight at his prize. His enslaver’s heart lay black and wet in his palm, and he felt something akin to joy to look upon the familiar sight. Then, much to everyone\'s horror, he tore into the dark flesh, devouring the meat like a wild beast. Blood quickly stained his pale skin and hair, darkening even Van’s red shirt.
Several of the soldiers had to turn away and fight to keep from vomiting. Van, who had seen wild animals behave similarly many times before, watched with a kind of detached fascination. But he could not stay focused on the macabre scene for long, as the steady flow of blood from his body was causing him to lose consciousness. He tried to maintain his hold on Escaflowne for as long as possible, but it eventually fell from his limp fingers. Dilandu, of course, disappeared- his victory prize following him. Lucky him.
The last thing Van heard before slipping into dreams was Merle crying out his name and the sound of many boots running towards him.

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Van ‘awoke’ in the familiar bed of the Strategos. He scanned the room idly, unsurprised that Folken was not there to greet him. With calm detachment, he wondered if he was going to die and what would happen to him if he did. Would he go to heaven? He doubted it. He had never been particularly pious to any god and he knew that was important if you wanted an eternity of bliss. Hell, perhaps? Maybe the first level. He could not think of anything he had done to get beyond the first level of hell. Or perhaps, his soul would stuck in this dream world of Folken’s, and he would forever haunt this nonexistent realm.
No, he decided, he would not die.
If he were to die, then Hitomi’s reading would have said so. The cards had told of a great battle that would define his relationship with Strategos, and he did not believe the fight with his impostor was the one they meant. That battle would definitely be fought with Folken himself.
Van pushed aside these thoughts, instead opting to go exploring once again. Perhaps he could find his mother this time and make sure she was alright.

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Van did not fiis mis mother, nor anyone else for that matter, though the sun set and rose and set again through the open windows of the palace. But he did discover an interesting fact when he tried to step out onto a small balcony protruding from the Northern side of the fourth great tower. As he passed through the red and violet glass doors, he was suddenly blinded. When he awoke, he found himself standing in his room again.
He tried this with three other doors and even a window, but always awoke in bed, unsure of how much time had passed. It could not have been long, for sun had never moved much, and if he had merely slept exactly one day, then Folken surely would have shown up by now.
So, the young hunter had to content himself with exploring the castle, which was in fact much larger than he had originally thought and had a veiw of a strange city far off in the distance surrounded by a silver furenze forest. The city was dark, its walls and streets as dark as Folken’s ebony wings. At night it glowed blue, like Escaflowne, with hundreds of white, red, and gold lights flickering here and there at random. Van could not see those who lived there from castle, but he knew they were demons. But that did not mean much by way of an answer. He may as well pointed to a city and said humans live there, and no one would know anymore about that city than before the answer was
given.

It was on the second evening, as Van was staring out clear paned window at the dark city, when Folken finally appeared. The hunter knew immediately when he arrive, the same way all beings who have ever been completely alone know when they suddenly are not. His suitor approached him slowly, his boots making soft tapping noises the echoed loudly in the high ceiling corridor.
The corridor as it was calleds nos not a true corridor. It lead nowhere and there were no rooms lining its walls. Instead, it is more like a green house with colorless glass walls and ceilings, jutting out of the side of the main structure. Small herbs and flowers in red and gold painted pots sat between each individual window, but the ‘corridor’s’ true function was obviously that of an observatory.
The view was magnificent, day or night, but it was during the evening that it was at its finest. In the light of the silver and cursed moons, everything was painted silver, gray, black, and most importantly blue. The city glowed its eerie blue, the forest was dark as pitch, and the sky sprinkled with silver stars.
“What is that city called?” Van found himself asking.
The foot falls stopped behind him.
“You killed Zongi,” Folken stated, harsher than was typical of him.
The mortal thought to argue the point. It was in fact, Dilandu who killed the demon, Zongi he was assuming. But that was a petty thing to argue. After all, he did order the demon prince to do it.
“Yes.”
“You…” the Strategos began, but lost his w.
.
Folken did not know what to do with his dark child. Did not know what to say or how to act. Zongi, a loyal servant he had raised himself, was dead. Killed by Van. Killed by his own selfish carelessness. He had not given him enough information nor enough help. He could have even captured his killer before teed eed was done, but he let him go, arrogant in the belief that Van could do nothing to harm them.
He felt so ashamed.
“Folken,” the boy said, turning around to look at him.
Bathed in the blue light of the cursed moon and pitch black of shadow, they stood and stared at one another with no words said between them. Van was not experiencing the detachment he had always experienced in the pale demon’s presence, but he felt no anger towards him now. His pursuer seemed sad, and the youth was feeling sad as well, if for different reasons.
“Folken,’ he said again, ‘Am I dying?”
The tall albino seemed surprised by the question.
“What do you mean?”
“After my fight with the dopple- I mean Zongi, I lost consciousness from loss of blood. Am I dying? Is that why I haven’t been able to wake up? Am I in a death sleep?” the boy asked.
The Strategos shook his head.
“No, you are not dying. The Royal family is tending to your medical needs as we speak,” he informed.
“They know I’m innocent then?”
“They know you saved Prince Chid. You’re innocence has not been addressed as of yet.”
“How do you know all this anyway?” Van asked, somewhat annoyed.
Why was it demons knew everything, and humans just ran around stupid and ignorant all the time?!
Folken smirked.
“I have my ways.”
Van gave an irritated snort and turned back to the window, readjusting the loosening sheet around his body. They said nothing for a long time, merely admired their individual views. There was not much to be said really, except...
“I’m sorry,’ the hunter offered softly, ‘for your loss.”
The apology took the winged demon by surprise, and it took long him a while to think of a response.
“Thank you.”

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