Never Alone Revamped (Introduction)

[Iesu]

Rewriting the whole fic from the very beginning, taking what was good from before (or at least what I think was good) and adding a little more spice to the mix... Heck, it's one in the morning when I wrote this so don't expect anything spectacular... Just enjoy...

Never Alone Revamped

Introduction

The evening stars gleamed upon the skies, a sight of a thousand fireflies too far to reach with an echo of the smallest hope that would exist. No moon upon the skies marked this day, waning orbs that disappeared every so often. Was it a prediction of things to come, or just a natural occurrence upon the streams of life that seasons uphold, it was never to be known. Upon the background formed white drops, frozen upon their descent, too little to even call meager, as upon their descent, they quickly vanished in the muddied streets. Echoes of frightfully howls of wolves created the scene as the dark twists and turns of the closed town seemed to move on to forever. The back-water town that existed on the outskirts of a country long forgotten slept soundly, silently, with only the smallest of candle light to cover the streets.
This site had remained a silent memory of what glory was, what it should?ve been. Now it was only a ruin, a silent and hidden haven for stragglers and squatters, beggars with nowhere else to go and even less to live on their own. It was small, perhaps too small that it evades outside attention.
Phaentome, the name of the town, with the silent wisps of wind and the ceaseless howls at night, where the clouds seem to descend each morning, your vision blurred until you could not even see your own arms, where the nights seemed colder than most, lonelier than most. Places that existed out of sight, out of mind, where secrets made and secrets kept are secrets never to leave, until that is the moment the secret leaves the town.
Shadows danced through the smallest of illumination of candle-light, winds fleeting, flickering yellow flames and flaring embers that did not even give the minutest of heat to anyone that would surround. The winds fluttered once again with movement, a mass of shadow leaping to another twist of the road, to another dark shade, robes heavy with moisture and dirtied with blood, dark blood, showed of a battle long passing. Blade held by the shadow?s side, only dark eyes visible through the hood that covered his face, white breath escaping his lips, heavy breath of one that seemed to have run a thousand miles, maybe even more, and desperate for solitude.
Holding his blade close to his side, its hilt battered where the once cryptic carvings and intricate knife work were now dull, undeterminable scribbles, almost similar to those that foul scratch on trees and the ground in their search for sustenance, with no other purpose but as a hole, a movement of the earth. Licking dry lips, his hand gripped the weathered hilt tightly; a grip that would make it seem it was the life he was holding on to dearly.
His free hand moved upon his chest, the silent crimson gem held in a simple lace rubbed against the center of his palm, his hand moving into a fist, holding the small mass tight, more so than with his own blade, as if his very soul, his very sanity depended upon its existence, the unspoken promise.
The shadows shifted to another line, the figure leaning back, his head tilted to the side, behind the corner, his eyes narrowing, breath controlled, his eyes wandering left and right, upon every direction where darkness lay, seeing something that most others cannot. A sound of a howl, different from a wolf?s, almost the sound of a horn made clear to him his destination as it stood higher than any other structure in the immediate vicinity. Robe pulled to the side, he immediately leapt out upon the muddied road once again, his movement creating a small splash that sounded through the alleyway, a crow squeaking in unison with his movement as a flock of darkness flew off to the skies, settling high upon the bridge of rooftops, the spine that held its structure in a triangular form.
He paid no regard to any of the movement; the shadow had only one intent. His breath a non-rhythmic huff and puff, creating white air that swirled off in tendrils until it dissipated with the midnight cold. He leaned back upon the structure?s wall, head darting from side to side, eyeing each corner, each space that could be taken in with a glance before tilting his head to the wall, voicing out a few words in a bare whisper, his fist knocking against the wooden wall.
The camouflage that is the wall disappeared as it moved with a creak, slow streams of light piercing the darkness, warmth from within evident with the white air that pushed into the cold of the night, tendrils reaching out into the open. The robed figure licked dry lips before crouching low to the ground, his head turning left and right once again while his movements quickly carried him to within the structure, the door closing quickly with an inaudible thud, hiding once again on the wall as if nothing was ever there.
The robed figure pulled back his hood, taking in a breath of the warmth, his eyes half closed, trying to adjust with the almost blinding light to where he had come from, sweat trickling down his brow, cold sweat, with glistening white solid moisture upon his brow and hair, quickly turning liquid, following the trail left behind by the fallen perspiration. His hand raised to his cheek, rubbing off the irritation with a low growl, his head moving around the room as he widened his vision, pulling off the soiled robe, his hand moving the cloth aside, releasing it to fall to the ground quickly, moisture and dirt that had accumulated making it heavier than it should?ve been.
Another stood beside him, the same one who opened the door, blonde hair moving with the tilt of his head, brushing off the mud that had splattered from the robes, shaking his head as he voiced, his tone a slight of wonder and mock, ?Wasn?t that white when you left??
He simply shrugged of the comment, not even giving it the moment of acknowledgement, the blonde haired man moving towards the table, taking a tankard of steaming broth, walking back towards him, his voice once again moving through, ?And you smelled a whole lot better.?
He shook his head, the unnoticeable curve that moved at the edge of his lips made it certain that his face wasn?t made of stone, the moment that passed quickly, his face replaced into the same grim one that had almost always been there, grabbing the tankard greedily, taking a hurried sip then quickly releasing it to the ground. A small splash escaped the lip of the steel container, a clank as it fell on the floor where luckily it had set upon its end, standing straight from the floor, still warm, to the point of steaming.
?Idiot.? The blonde haired man shook his head slowly, running his shoe against the drop of splatter, spreading it into nothingness as his lips moved, ?Of course it?s hot.?
The once robed figure shook his head, almost to speak when the door on the far end of the room creaked open, light piercing through the door, the room behind it evident with movement with a fireplace the only light within the room. The one who had opened the door glanced upon the two, nodding towards them as they nodded in return, the once robed figure taking the tankard upon his hand, taking a small sip as he moved into the room with the blonde haired man.
The scent of blood wafted through the air as a figure clad in dark blue armor stared down upon the corpse of a personality unfamiliar to any of them, his forehead a wrinkle of distaste, his foot kicking the lifeless body closer to the fire place for all to see.
Upon the sound of the two?s steps, he did not even glance up from his stare at the corpse, his voice a haunting melody as it echoed through the half-illuminated room, ?We?ve been? compromised??
?This early..?? The once robed figure stepped forth from the shadows with a rumble from his belly and an eye filled with the most inquisitive of glances.
The blue clad man nodded in reply, not moving his head, his eyes, his gaze off from where it was, his hand straightening to form upon his side, finger pointing towards the table, ?The accommodations are meager, Lord Van? But they will have to do??
The once robed figure, known as the fallen king of Adon, tilted his head towards the blonde haired man by him, his form shifting in stance as he as well stared upon the corpse, the voice of the blonde haired man a slight held back, ?Fruit and cheese? Can never go wrong??
The fallen king shrugged, moving towards the table in a quick stride, he placed the tankard of broth down with the softest of taps, grabbing greedily the pieces of sliced bread and cheese amassed in a platter in no particular design.
Voices echoed upon the room, conversation between the two behind him, almost in hushed whispers, tone and inflection even more difficult to determine than to what they were speaking off.
?Black Dragon saboteur.? One voiced with distaste, his words not lingering any longer as the shift of plates and the soft clang of armor movement followed his words, a thud upon the floor speaking of his crouch upon the ground, a closer look at the now incapacitated invader.
?Then they know of our location.? Another voiced behind him, smoother and richer in tone, followed by a couple of taps upon hardwood, almost of steps of movement.
The shadows shifted with the flicker of the flames in the hearth, movement told with each turn of the shadow, all observed by the fallen king from the corner of his eye. He took another sip of the steaming broth, another greedy bite from the bread, and another almost choking gulp down.
?It is probable? Or maybe they are just paranoid.? The distaste still remained in one?s voice, flesh seemed to shift here and there, the voice continued as if speaking to itself, ?Female? Black Dragon??
??only send males when the task is of utmost certainty?? The fallen king voiced to his back through a slightly muffled tone, a mouth half filled with broth and cheese.
?That would mean?? The smooth voice once again echoed through the room, though this time with a hint of uncertainty.
The shift of steel only marked a nod from the blue armored personality, not another word spoken as the body wriggled slightly from the floor boards, a half-dead movement.
?She?s alive?? The smooth voice lost some of its edge, a few steps following it once again, tapping upon the floors hastily, almost rushed, a sense of surprise.
The sound of tankard material thud upon wood echoed across the room, the fallen king brushed off crumbs from his face before turning, moving closer to the beaten woman, naked upon the floor, shivering unnoticeably. The blue clad man made no reply as he continued to stare at the figure lying upon the ground.
Blade singing upon the air marked the fallen king?s approach, an uncertain tone followed his movement at his side, ?Van, it?s not??
But the voice was cut as the blade moved down, point first towards the woman, with a swift sound of the wind, moving between her thighs, slowly moving them, coercing her to move them apart, lest she wished to be cut. She followed without fail, her eyes still cast down as the three figures in the room moved closer, the fallen king crouching down to have a closer look.
?Where?s her tattoo?? The smooth voiced had been replaced almost as quickly as it came, as quickly as the change of events, the shift of shadows and flicker of flames once again creating the only ruckus in the room.
The blue armored man leaned by the fallen king, taking a closer inspection, observing the woman?s eyes filled with fear and doubt, slowly down to her unmarked body, only wounds and bruises pelted upon her, his voice low and gruff, ?Not black dragon.?
The fallen king did not give a reply, pulling his blade back into his sheathe, the song of the blade echoing in the room as it made its home into the hardened scabbard, his voice bearing a hard effect, authority obvious in his tone, ?Writ? Where is it..??
The woman shook her head, her motion moving to hide her sensitive portions from the light and peering eyes, holding herself without any will, her eyes moving to a close, tight in her discomfort.
?Lies.? The blue armored man voiced his thoughts, as if the thought was a shout and the voice was just an echo of his ideas.
The fallen king voiced back in his reaction, ?She has nothing to lose if she admits to it?? His eyes moved intently upon the woman?s, locking with her gaze as try as she might, she could not look away, ?Understood??
The woman slowly moved herself to sit, her eyes cast down upon the floor, staring at shadows and movements, silent and unmoving. A moment passed when her form jumped slightly, her surprise sourcing from the fallen king?s quick smash of a gloved hand upon the floor, the intensity of his gaze weighing heavy on the woman.
A lump of imaginary mass moved down the woman?s throat, her eyes moving to a close, her hold around herself tightening as she licked her lips, speaking slowly, ?They? had my brother??
The fallen king swore under his breath as the sound of steel by his side signaling armor movement followed his thoughts, his head tilting towards the blue clad man, his voice a monotony, ?How far..??
?Far enough.? The blue clad man voice in reply, his head moving closer, his voice a slow whisper, ?Managed to poison a captain and a sergeant. Nothing vital, minor poison.?
The fallen king?s brow arched slowly, his head tilting back to the woman, the sound of his voice an assuring tone, ?That?s quite far?? His head pulled towards the guard that had introduced them into the room, his eyes reflecting the jump of flames from the fireplace, ?You? Take here, clothe her? She might prove useful??
The guard nodded in reply, moving forth from the shadows with the evident sound of armor.
Before any other voice could object, the fallen king stood, moving back towards the table, his voice more of a command, ?I?m tired? We take her with us; she links to ?them?? We march with the sun?s horizon? Tell the men??
He took a wooden plate, grabbing scraps of this and that, grasping the tankard of broth as well, voicing back before anyone else could speak, ?And tell the cook that he performed excellently today? Either that or I?m just really hungry??
The fallen king paused upon his step, staring at four doors upon the far wall, the smooth voice following his thoughts, almost amused in its tone, ?Door to the far right.?
The fallen king nodded his head, not looking back, the movement his only reply, taking his food, his steps taking him into his room, a simple set-up. Eyeing around at the candle-lit room, he shrugged to himself, able to satisfy himself with the meager accommodations, better than the usual cave or tree hollow that he slept on most of the time in the years that passed.
He moved to sit down upon the floor, setting his broth and the plate before him, his eyes moving towards the half opened door, narrowing his eyes slightly, his motion quickly followed with the rush of wind, pushing the door to a close. A sigh escaped his lips as he stared down upon the food, his eyes slowly moving towards his chest, upon the crimson gem, dull now, without any evidence of shimmering, where it never had the evidence of light for the years after the time, after she left.
A lump moved in difficulty down his throat, his hand grasping the gem tightly, his head tilting up towards the window, the moons only shadows of themselves, light from the skies emanating from stars scattered like beads that fell upon the floor. A chain unnoticeable clinked from his back, attached to its end was a tattered book, moving it to his vision, opening the entries, leafing through the pages with the scribbles in his own and writing.
One final page, staring into it, his free hand taking out a charcoal writing wedge, slowly moving its tip upon the paper?s face?

***

Final Snow Fall, Year of War Two, Phaentome Hall

Has it already been two years? It seems that each day just passes without my notice. Finally, sanctuary, days and nights of slaughter and stealth have kept me away from respite, finally now I could catch up on my sleep. Only one thought itches in my mind, one thought that keeps me awake, one that keeps me sane. Foolish as it may sound, she is the only hold that keeps me moving on.

Hitomi?

Why I could never forget her is far beyond my reach. I could not realize the? impact she has on me. Each moment of silence, her words still echo in my mind, shouting in my head though they are just soft whispers, the comfort in her voice that makes me desire her presence even more? and the madness that follows knowing that she is gone.

Do I actually? miss her? I barely know her and yet, she made me see how much there is in me, how much I have forgotten, how much she? cared.

Someone cares? It is difficult to imagine that with each passing day she thinks of me. Two souls too far away for any to know what or where their paths have taken them, most probable that she has forgotten of me, maybe not.

I don?t know?

But why..? Why does she care so much..? Why in a world where everyone is dying on me, she lives..? Why is she the brim of hope I could never imagine..?

***

The page had only a small space left, a short line silently scribbled.

***

I wish you were here?

***

He breathed out a heavy sigh, staring at the writings in his own hand, a recollection of everything that had kept him alive.
One word escaped his lips, slowly sliding from his throat and tongue yet with the ease and softness of escape, almost like that of silk, ?Hitomi??

[amber23]

I absolutely love it. It's been a long time since I've read some good Escafanfic. I implore you to PLEASE continue! :razz: