Shadow of a Former Self [working title] Greenbeans Major spoilers. Based off of the anime. *********** Allen Schezar twirled the wine glass between his fingers idly as he regarded the woman seated across from him. The girl, he corrected himself, for she was still young enough to be growing into her future beauty. She fidgeted, tugging occasionally in discomfort at the bodice of her dress. Shaky fingers smoothed back her short cut, light brown hair. Allen stretched his free hand across the table to clasp hers reassuringly. She smiled weakly at him by way of thanks. "It's alright, sister, these spells will pass into memory soon enough." Her eyes lit up briefly before breaking contact with his to continue to watch the floor with interest. "Do you want to talk about it?" He offered sympathetically. "No," she answered softly, still refusing to meet his eyes. "When you're ready, Celena," he murmured before giving her hand a final squeeze. He rose from the table then. He had another appointment to attend and could not afford to delay any longer. With one last lingering glance at his sister, he left the room. ----- It was 10 years ago when Zaibach kidnapped her. At the time, she was 5 years of age. Every night she cried, wanting nothing more then to be with her family again. Soon afterwards she was given a new family. ^^^^^ "It's alright, child, I will protect you," a furry man-beast reassured the small girl who cried to sleep each night in his arms. "Jajuka, will I be able to go home soon?" She sniffled pitifully, terribly homesick and afraid. He brushed her hair back, trying to convey warmed and reassurance in the gesture. "I don't know, child, but you are safe with me. That, I promise you." The locked door swung open, flooding the darkened room with light from the passageway. Two Zaibach guards approached the huddled up pair menacingly. "Hand over the girl, Jajuka," one ordered. "No! She's mine! They said she was my charge to take care of," he rose to his feet, imposing himself between the guards and her. "Out of the way, beast," the second guard struck him across the belly, causing him to fold over in pain. The first kicked him down, then beat him with a crude club as the other guard yanked her up by the wrist. She tried to fight them, to resist, but she was no match. The second guard flung her over his shoulder, kicking and screaming, as the first continued to give Jajuka a thrashing he would not soon forget. ----- Millerna awaited Allen in one of the many meeting chambers the castle boasted. Since they had taken on the brunt of the responsibility for helping Celena adjust to her new lifestyle, they met trice a week to compare notes. Those who understood her situation tolerated Allen's doting over his sister, but it was not something Millerna chose to indulge in. She preferred to gently nudge Celena in a direction that would be best for her growth. He had often been scolded that you couldn't teach someone a woman's ways in a week. There was nothing he could do but treat her with as much patience as he possessed. "How fairs your sister?" Asked Millerna from her seat at a long, smooth table. Allen entered the rest of the way into the room before answering. "I left her sitting peacefully, though I fear that the nightmares are returning," a frown of concern crossed his features. Millerna let her breath out slowly before inviting the knight to join her at the table. "There are many demons for her to face that cannot be relieved with medicine." "I know, but hasn't she suffered enough?" "Trials make one stronger..." she mused. Allen shot her a disapproving look. "No one wants to see Celena suffer, Allen. The damage has been done. She's come so far that I'm confident she has the strength to finish the healing process." Allen bowed his head as he considered her words. "You're right. And I'll do all I can to help her." "We all will." ----- The boys gathered quickly to line up at attention after the order had been called. Their commander inspected them with an unreadable expression. He stopped in front of Dilandau for closer examination. Dilandau did not look away when the commander's piercing glare seemed to search his very soul. "Do you think you're good enough to be in the Dragon Slayers?" His gruff voice rumbled from deep in his throat. "I'm good enough that I will lead them," Dilandau answered with the proper air of arrogance. A short bark of laughter was the response to his impudence. "When I'm through with you, you will be." ^^^^^ "You're so bold, Dilandau," Viole remarked once the squad had returned to the relative privacy of the barracks. "Ha! You should have seen the look on the commander's face," Chesta commented after flopping onto his bunk. "He was standing right in front of me," Dilandau reminded testily. The fact that his commanding the Dragon Slayers had ever been in question annoyed him somewhat. He *knew* that he was meant to lead them. It was his destiny, his calling in life, and no one will take that from him. But one did stand in his way, Aggen. He had joined the Dragon Slayers a few months before Dilandau and had set his own sights on assuming leadership. None of his efforts at *deterring* Aggen had produced the results desired. Dilandau licked his lips lightly in delight at the competition Aggen provided him. It was then that Dilandau noticed that he'd unconsciously bitten his lip hard enough to draw blood. His tongue slipped out again to taste it. He discovered long ago that he enjoyed the taste of blood, so he let his taste buds throb with delight at the opportunity. "Are you alright?" Viole snapped him out of his reverie. "Your lip is bleeding." "It's nothing," Dilandau wiped away the blood with the sleeve of his shirt. ^^^^^ The young squad of Dragon Slayers was out on a grassy field in their Guymelefs when Dilandau's opportunity presented itself. They were split into two opposing squadrons with Dilandau the leader of one and Aggen the other. Every boy knew that today would be the day for the leadership of the Dragon Slayers to be established once and for all. Only after the Dragon Slayers were well established on their quest for the Escaflowne did anyone in a position of authority realize what Dilandau's true intentions for that day were: to kill all opposition to his leadership. Indeed, it was no mistake when his Guymelef crashed uncontrolled into Aggen's, resulting in the latter being pinned to the ground in a compromising position. Nor was there an error in the Guymelefs operation when its Crima Claw pierced the armor plating that protected Aggen from harm. The coincidence of this string of events was not lost on the boys. There was a special bond that grew between those who lived with each other day in and day out. It was this very bond that Zaibach was hoping to use to their advantage with the formation of the Dragon Slayers. These boys were each other's family. Nothing would come between them, and as a unit they would go forth as a formidable fighting force. Dilandau established himself as leader through fear and intimidation, but not without some concern for his squad. Away from the field of battle, he truly did care for them. They were his family. No one could challenge one of his brothers without challenging him as well; a policy that landed him into more then one brawl. For this, he was rewarded the undying loyalty of his squad. It was all Folken hoped for and more. ----- Celena woke up screaming. Soft light from the Mystic Moon streamed in through the window. "No," tears slipped down her cheeks. "That wasn't *me*. I didn't murder Aggen." But she had, she knew that it was her hand that had set the Guymelef to skewer him. "Why..." she continued to cry. ***** The next day found Celena with Millerna being fitted for a new outfit. "I think you would look wonderful in a light blue. It matches your hair. What do you think?" Millerna asked as the seamstress continued to take Celena's measurements. "I wouldn't know," Celena turned her torso as requested. "Don't you know what you like?" the woman piped up. "I've always worn a uniform," Celena admitted shyly. "Oh dear! Why hide such a figure? The men will be falling over you once I'm finished," her head bobbed on her neck to emphasize her resolution. Celena was at a loss as to what to say. Millerna came to her rescue. "Those things will come soon enough. A conservative outfit would suit you best, I believe." The seamstress scowled slightly in disagreement. "I would like that," Celena seconded quietly. A shake of the seamstress' head was her answer for such reserved thinking. ***** Celena walked slowly through the hallways of the palace with her eyes focused on the elaborate tile work below her feet. This was the reason she didn't notice Allen until she ran into him. "Oh! Allen, I'm sorry," she blushed and turned away from him, focusing now on the view outside the nearby window. Allen shook his head at her reserved nature before engaging her. "I'm told that you were fitted for a new dress this morning. When will I have the opportunity to see you in it?" She blushed again. "I'm not sure. Millerna would know more about when it will be finished." Before Allen could ask anymore questions, Celena had edged past him and hurried down the hall, calling back that she would see him at supper. 'Honestly,' Allen thought to himself, 'she needn't be so shy, especially around me.' ***** Celena didn't slow down until she reached her room. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had come over her. It was almost a total repulsion of Allen. What brought it on? 'No,' she gasped, 'It can't be from when I was-' she cut off the thought. *His* name would never be uttered, even in her mind. She changed from the simple dress she was wearing to something more approprite for outdoor work. A leather tunic was pulled over a cotton undershirt while the lower half of her body sported leather riding pants and knee high leather boots. Taking a ride along the palace grounds would ease her mind. A boy quickly found her a horse after she arrived at the stables. Being a guest of the royal family gave her access to their riding stock. It was a privelage she tried not to abuse, though she did love to ride. Her and Millerna would often times go out together when Millerna's schedule allowed it. Many of the palace guards recognized her as she rode past them. She would nod shyly in acknowledgement of their usually cheerful greeting. Everyone here was so friendly towards her. There was no reason to be, after what she had do- 'NO!' Her mind screamed at her. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. 'I can't live like this,' she thought darkly. 'Sometimes the hardest thing to do is live,' Folken's voice whispered from the recesses of her memory. He had told *him* that at some point. Those words had never held more truth for her. "How will I live?" She asked aloud, the area of her empty of any others capable of answering. The sunny path she rode along led her under a canopy of trees high overhead. Small forest creatures darted accoss her way as they found shelter from the pounding of the horse's hooves. The path bent around a turn to open up into a small clearing by a stream. She dismounted, walking slowly along the water's edge. A squirrel scampered near her, excited by the presence of a human in its home. It stood on its hind quarters and chittered at her. Her pulse quickened as it continued to stare her down, not running from her, a victim within reach of her belt knife. All she had to do was draw it and strike using a lightening quick pounce she'd learned so long ago. Its blood dripping through her fingers as its small head lulled to its side, life oozing from its body slowly- "NO!" She screamed, holding her head between her hands. The started squirrel ran from her as quickly as its legs would carry it. Her knees gave out on her, leaving her on the clearing's ground to cry. The burning desire within her frightened her more than she frightened others when she came near. Oh, Allen thought she hadn't noticed, but how could she not when women would pull their children indoors when she went to the market? How could she miss the loathful hate that burned in men's eyes because of the sons or wives she'd taken from them? How was it that she escaped the fate so many would sentence her to? Because her brother was Allen Schezar? Was that good enough reason to spare the life of a murder? Was she capable of reform? Was Allen her only chance at being allowed to live? The time she spent weeping on the ground went uncounted. The pain she felt now was minor compared to the pain she had inflicted as *him*. It was a merciful punishment, if grief was all she suffered. ***** Her ride provided her with no answers. Unfulfilled, but with a more peaceful spirit, she returned to the stables and then her room to wash before supper. Allen would be there tonight, and she was feeling anxious to see him again after running away this afternoon. "You're looking well," her brother greeted while pulling a chair out for her. "I trust you had a good day?" "Yes, thank you," she smiled up at him. He returned the smile with a fond one of his own before seating himself. Tonight, only the two of them were seated at the small table that was tucked away in a corner of the palace kitchen. They could have sat with the others, but the large gatherings had proven to be more intimidating then Celena could handle. She often ate alone because of it. Allen spent what meals he could with her. The corner they shared secluded them from the bussle of the palace kitchen. The sounds of clattering of pans and barked orders by the head cook were unable to penetrate the quiet space they made for themselves. He watched her intently as she carefully ladled the rich soup into her mouth. After several moments of consideration, he broke the comfortable silence between them. "Have you decided what you are going to do with yourself?" The spoon stopped midway to her mouth. She lowered her eyes to look at the bowl before her, considering her answer carefully. "I don't know..." "We wish to place no pressure on you that you aren't ready for, but we also don't want to see you waste your life away. Not after you have finally gotten it back," his eyes held a deep concern for her. "I understand," she continued to watch her soup cool. "Do you..?" He whispered softly to himself. She looked up, startled at the question. "Do you really understand how much we care about you? How much we want you to succeed?" "I-" she paused. "I don't think I do," she admitted with a sad frown. "I don't even understand myself. I'm afraid of myself." He reached out, taking her hand in his. "You are no longer that monster. You needn't be afraid of the lovely woman you will grow into." "How do I know, Allen? That I will become what you see me as? I have done brutal things in the past, that is who I was. How do I become someone new?" Her questions came out in a rush, a plea, for him to tell her the answer. He wanted to comfort her, to give her the reassurance she desired, but he couldn't. "That is something only you can figure out. We will help you as we can." If this was her chance at redemption... "Thank you, brother." ----- Dilandau tugged on his tunic to smooth it out. He angled himself from side to side, allowing himself a few moments of vanity in front of the mirror before turning away. The red uniform he wore distinguished him as the rightful leader of the Dragon Slayers. A confident smirk played across his features as he swaggered out to the parade grounds where the formal ceremony of his ascention would take place. Folken was there, his usual mask-like face revealing nothing of what he was thinking. Many others of the upper class were there was well. Few would turn down the invitation to witness the graduation of Zaibach's best and brightest. Many of his friends, and soon to be subordinants when they were commissioned, whispered softly as they waited in the wings for the order to present themselves for inspection. He didn't induldge in such chatter. Today was the fulfillment of his dreams, of his longing for power, that had driven his every waking moment for as long as he could remember. In short, today was everything to him. "Attention!" Barked the Master of Ceremonies. The young men snapped into position, then marched out onto the stage where the commissioning was preformed. Very few units were given the special attention the Dragon Slayers were, and Dilandau soaked up every minute of it. His actions were crisp in response to the commands drilled into him. None could find fault with his completetion of his duties for the ceremony. He was a natural born leader. ----- Celena worked quietly by herself in the modest palace garden. While a majority of the foodstuffs needed to feed the palace's population were traded for, many of the more costly herbs were grown here. There was no need for her to labor over the plants, people were already assigned the task of their care. But she wished to be helpful in some way that kept her from being underfoot. "Good morning, child," an old, craggy woman with a basket on one arm and a scarf tied around her head scooted over to her. "What be ye doing? Children like yourself shouldn't have ye hands in the dirt." She tilted her head to its side, giving Celena a sideways glance. Celena had learned quickly what the old woman meant by 'children like herself' - people of important status. It was a role she was very uncomfortable in, for she was given the same difference as a member of the house of Aston. Her mind tried to justify why she should be treated in such a high manner, but it could not. She was of common birth and of even worse upbringing. She smiled at the old woman, for she'd answered this question before. "I'm making myself useful as all people should do." The woman cocked a bushy eyebrow at her answer. "And ye's not useful already?" Her head lulled over to the other side for a glance from that angle. "Any small task I can do for the people of the palace is an honor," she picked up the near full basket of weeds that she'd spent the morning pulling. Eyes that were once a brilliant blue that were now hazed over with age bore into her. Celena felt herself become uncomfortable under their piercing gaze. She shifted slightly, then decided to resume picking weeds if all the woman was going to do was look at her. A skeletal hand with aged flesh stretched over it clamped onto her wrist. Her eyes darted back to the woman, who had a symapthetic expression on her face. "The guilt is eating ye," she said, confident in her conclusion. "Ye are not that BEAST who murdered our children, nor ye needn't perform small tasks by way of apology." "I don't know what you're talking about," Celena freed her arm, backing away from the old woman. "Ye do. To repay us, ye must live the good life - fight for the good cause." "I'm sorry, I really should be going," she turned away and rushed from the garden as quickly as dignity would allow.