Fear and Remnants
                an Escaflowne fanfic 
                 by Serenade 
                 Notes: 
                  I wrote this snippet about Dilandau to express some ideas I 
                  had about his background and his demons. This piece seems to 
                  belong in a larger story, but it's been sitting neglected on 
                  my hard drive for a while, so I thought I'd let it loose. Any 
                  feedback is appreciated. 
                 Disclaimer: 
                  I don't own these characters, alas. They are the property of 
                  the creators of Vision of Escaflowne. I'm only playing with 
                  them. 
                  
                  
                The boy stood watching with frozen eyes, his small body pressed 
                  against the doorway of a room where he was not supposed to be. 
                  The odours of the hangar filled his lungs and throat - metal 
                  and oil and a strange acrid smell. It was almost like burning, 
                  but without the smoke. 
                 There had been screams, a short while ago. 
                 No one was screaming now. The sorcerer had arrived, and no 
                  one wanted to draw attention to themselves in his presence. 
                  They moved quietly, and spoke in low voices or not at all. But 
                  their eyes kept flicking to the dark-robed figure, and then 
                  away again. Perhaps they wanted to avoid looking at the thing 
                  in the centre of the room. 
                 The machine dominated the floor of the hangar, its huge bulk 
                  dwarfing the workers skittering around its edge. An armoured 
                  giant, with massive jointed limbs, its right arm was lifted 
                  in a gesture of challenge. From the raised hand extruded several 
                  metal blades, twisted together to form a spiral lance. Its end 
                  was thrust into a stone block whose surface was rippled with 
                  impact rings. Splashes of liquefied metal had bubbled parts 
                  of the stone with superheated force. 
                 The other arm hung limply from the shoulder. A dribble of once-molten 
                  metal clung to the vents. More metal leaked in frozen streams 
                  from the cracks in the casing. The door to the pilot's chamber 
                  glinted with dull silver-grey. 
                 They were prying the door off now, using crowbars and wrenches. 
                  It came loose all of a sudden, clattering to the floor amid 
                  the heavy stillness. One of the men swore, averting his eyes 
                  from the exposed interior. 
                 The boy caught a glimpse of a metal-shrouded lump before the 
                  canvas was draped over it. He could hear the shouts of the work 
                  crew echo loudly, almost as though coming from inside his head. 
                 He had seen them arriving earlier, through the bars of the 
                  dormitory window. It was the fourth test they had run this week. 
                  He had heard that the new machines would be more powerful than 
                  any others, once the flaws had been found and corrected. They 
                  would even be able to fly. 
                 He had gazed out through the narrow window at the pale blue 
                  sky beyond, and thought about flying. 
                 Now he stared in blank horror at the scene unfolding before 
                  him. The thick, heavy smell of bubbled steel churned his stomach. 
                  Fighting the compulsion to turn and run, he backed slowly away 
                  from the door. As he retreated into the corridor, he looked 
                  up and found the eyes of the sorcerer fixed upon him. 
                 From behind, he felt the weight of hands descend onto his shoulders. 
                  He didn't even bother trying to pull away. Instead he stood 
                  motionless, his throat tight with dread, as the sorcerer advanced 
                  towards him. 
                 Then he heard the words. 
                 "Prepare him." 
                  
                   
                    - fin - 
                  
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