Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. If you're surprised, then I'm very sorry for you.

This is a brief story about Folken and what he must have gone through following the loss of his arm. Don't really know why I wrote it, except that I felt like it.




The parts that make the whole



How could anything ever be the same after that horrible day? In one moment, the world was broken. And in that moment, any other success was rendered frivolous in the shadow of that one greatest failure. Folken Fanel stood in the Emperor's palace, the greatest fortress in the newly reborn mechanical empire of Zaibach. The same technology that had advanced this kingdom and stripped it of any beauty it once possessed had spared his life, but ruined any chance he might have to call himself a member of the human race. Or a man.

Raising a hand to his still-wet eyes, he did his best to disguise the anguish that threatened to devour him whole. General Adelphos was approaching, and it would be unseemly for him to be caught crying like a child, no matter the circumstances.

Ah, Folken. The older man called to him from a distance, though Folken didn't right himself or turn from the balcony railing until he was certain his indiscretion wouldn't be noticed. You look terrible, my boy. The General said bluntly, putting a calloused hand to Folken's smoother, more youthful face. I suggest you get some rest. You're a member of a mighty nation now, young lad. It's through hard work that we grow strong. See that you don't forget that. The favor of the Emperor will only carry you so far. All of this was said in the style befitting Adelphos. Though Folken had only met him on one prior occasion, it had been enough for him to formulate the more-or-less correct opinion that Adelphos was a quintessential soldier, never one to mince words or engage in pointless small talk. This was more of a casual observation than anything. He nodded wordlessly and the man moved on, forgotten almost before he disappeared. His advice, though sound, was of little importance. What good was strength to him now, when it was the lack of strength that had brought him here in the first place?

It did no good to dwell on the past, but he felt as though he had no other choice. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see it...



The sword in his grasp quavered just slightly. He couldn't help it. As often as he'd fenced with Balgous, nothing could compare to this. the dragon before him lowered its head, blood streaming from its eyes where Folken's blade had scored them. He had won! All that remained was to cut into the heart of the beast and remove its glowing essence, fulfilling all the rites of kingship. He approached all at once when the beast was finally still, sword reaching like an extension of his arm for the chest of the dragon. In just one more second...

The dragon was on its feet before he knew what was happening. It wasn't dead. It was merely baiting him, waiting for him to make a stupid mistake. Even without its eyes, it bulled forth fearlessly, streams of fire roaring like the claws of hell toward him, incinerating his tunic and searing the flesh of his chest until it was red and raw. If he had been any closer to the lethal flame, he would be dead now. Berating himself for being all different kinds of an idiot, he raised his sword once more and charged in under the dragon's head. Hadn't Balgous warned him of the kinds of tricks these great beasts liked to play in battle? Hadn't he been prepared? Now, however, he gained the upper hand once more. He would do this correctly, then become king and lay down his sword forever. Death and battle were not things he took joy in. Still, something didn't feel quite right.

Everything changed. All the forest shook with his screams as the jaws of the dragon snapped once, completing one final act of vengeance for its lost sight. It had been enough. While blood poured from his shoulder directly down his side, he screamed once more in blind panic. His arm was gone...it was GONE!! He didn't even notice that the dragon was no longer in the clearing. He was no threat to it any longer, so why should it have stayed?

The reddening of the grass below him increased his terror. There was something he should do, but he couldn't think what. In one flash of teeth, he had lost his chance to be a king. He had lost his chance to be a man.



What happened next was unknown to him. He knew what had transpired generally, of course, but the specifics had been blocked from his mind by the agony that filled every vestige within him. If anything, the terror grew when he regained consciousness. Lying in a silent room with tubes carrying his own blood running from all parts of his body - and then, he noticed that...thing... where his arm should have been. No, it wasn't real. it couldn't have been. Any moment now he would wake up and go out to slay the dragon. This was just a nightmare, brought on by his anxiety. Van would come in and leap on his chest like he did every morning. Any moment now.

Only it never happened. The sorcerers of Zaibach had come and explained to him the wonders of their machines and the glory of his rebirth. He was more than a man now, they told him. He had purpose. He was part of the greater whole, an instrument in the new vision of the future. Folken Fanel, they said, died that day. All the weakness within him was gone with the severing of his limb and the reattachment of something much greater.



Three months later, he was still waiting to wake up. The metal arm was a hateful reminder of what was lost, nothing more than that. His soul, once gentle and kind, was beginning to harden. The loss of his arm had stripped away most of his delusions about the state of things. He was not more of a man, as they had promised. He was nothing. He was a mistake that might never be made right. Even in spite of this, he was not without some tincture of honor. He knew what was owed. He would not live his life indebted to anyone. He knew now that the past was dead. And what of it still lived, he would soon kill himself.



Ollen70: Like I said, a short and relatively depressing little story that just came to me
all at once. I might rewrite it at some point and add some things. Let me know what you think, okay?