Disclaimer: Folken, Sora, and Escaflowne the Movie: A Girl in Gaia are property of Sunrise and Bandai Visual/Entertainment. Poor writing for fan purposes only.

I wanted Folken/Sora WaFF, but Folken being Folken, this is what I got instead... -_-;

Scene One

The room was made for larger purposes than what it was presently being used for. The ceiling was too high to promote intimate conversation and too low to inspire awe. It housed bluish light and empty sound smothering the man sitting at the table and the pale woman that sat across from him. A meal was taking place, but nothing else was shared between them besides the environment. Movement was not paramount and the chink of the dinnerware seemed subdued.

As the man habitually did during his meals, he played a solitary game of strategy. A square wooden board with gridlines drawn across its surface and dotted by black and white stones was set before him. Most of his food had already been consumed hastily and nearly all of his attention now lay focused on the pattern of stones. In any other case, it was a game meant for two individuals, but both occupants in the room knew that there was no interest from either party in the prospect of the woman playing as his adversary.

The young woman was eating at a more sedate pace, her mind strictly blank in an effort to prevent oft-occurring intrusive thoughts, both the benign and the disturbing. She watched the man occasionally, but never in a manner to cause interruption. Only the muted sounds of her utensils against her plate escaped to his deaf ears.

Conversely, it was an extended silence and an unprecedented stillness that finally caused his left hand to halt, hovering above a white stone. He glanced up.

Sora sat frozen and looking only frailly more alive than a statue carved of white marble. One of her hands rested on the edge of the table. Her eyes were closed, useless to the vision engulfing her mind. Folken removed the stone from the board and sat straighter, watching her expectantly. He noted the slight irregularity in the seer's exhaling and inhaling, inhaling and exhaling .

The vision broke, collapsing the rigidity of her frame and expanding Folken's diaphragm.

Sora was lost for a moment in transition, the pace of her breathing increasing, her widened eyes blinking but not seeing, feeling the initial panic of a child torn from his mother. Then she felt the kiss of the Dragon Power settle against the centre of her forehead and her senses flowed outward from that point until she was aware of her body once more, conscious of where and when she was. She looked across the table to Folken, but his expression was only gently blank shifting to faintly quizzical.

Sora's gaze flickered away briefly before meeting his again and softly said, "A memory." From her tone it was clear that she did not intend to provide further detail.

Folken refused to stop staring for a while, drinking in every nuance of her sorrowful expression. In truth, he did not really care if she told him what she saw as long as it did not affect his plans in any significant way. It might have bothered him more to never know the things that she did not tell him, but there were other, grander problems for him to focus on. His gaze moved up and out of the sky crystallized in her eyes to the space between the two markings on her forehead. He withdrew his power before turning back to the game board.

When she felt Folken disperse the miniature tornado on her brow, Sora almost wished he had not. Being more than difficult to live with, he was nevertheless more attentive, perhaps even complaisant, at certain times more than others. She had noticed that those times tended to be before he commenced a crucial battle in a campaign and after he returned from an extended absence from the floating fortress. She assumed it was because he was brooding least during those periods when the war was going through major changes. During those times his excited mind found different ways to distract him from himself. At present, he was due to return to the war front within the week.

Sora resumed her interrupted dinner, chewing slowly in silence again. After finishing, she ventured to stare at Folken openly for several long moments. He remained obliviously absorbed.

"Lord Folken?" The way she spoke took even the harshness out of his name and transposed it into mellow euphony.

After a pause, he made the barest noise of acknowledgement.

Feeling slightly silly she said, "Lord Folken, you have a beautiful name. Tell me why you chose it?"

He deliberately finished placing a black stone on an intersection of lines before giving her a sidelong glare. "You're such a romantic, he sniffed dismissively."

Sora felt her heart sink, then wondered how much farther it had to go before it reached the cold floor. It was obvious that she was not going to get a better response from him that night.

He studiously ignored her when she excused herself and left the hall. Mostly he was irritated, but a small part of him felt the receding shuffle of her dress scrape away at his mind.

The scraping revealed something unexpected.

Dune watched his father's new wife through his pale lashes, stealing wary glances at her between periods of replacing his bowl on the table. Her gentle demeanour and pleasant features belied the pain she indirectly caused the prince. Her black hair was long, flowing straight, and cropped in the exact manner that Dune's mother had worn hers. She ate daintily even when compared to the young boy.

With his bowl to his mouth, Dune's gaze flew left to the man sitting across from the woman, her husband and Dune's father, the Dragon King.

From a swift survey, the king gave off the impression of solid silence. Even eating, his movements were controlled, powerful. Dune felt the inklings of something that might have been resentment, although he did not know what it was yet.

The adults talked rarely, and this meal was not unlike many others, rife with soundlessness. However, when Dune had finished his bowl of rice, a spontaneous urge caused him to break the calm.

Father, he began earnestly. When the king turned slightly towards him, he continued, It is said that I was named after a Dragon King of ancient times.

His father's expression remained stoic, appraising.

Dune fought the need to swallow. Tell me of this king and his rule?

After a brief pause, the king's voice rolled out like a distant storm. How old are you, Dune?

The prince frowned at the unforeseen query. Nine.

Nine, and you do not know of the man who is your namesake? The corners of the Dragon King's mouth pulled back and downwards a little. What do you have tutors for?

Folken ceased the swirling column of air around him. He opened his right hand, arm resting on the table, and flicked the two stones, one of each colour, from his palm to skitter across the dull surface along with the rest of the scattered pieces. The Black Dragon bitterly recalled having pored over all the history texts his tutors could find for him, alone, but the answers found on archived scrolls did not diminish his father's callousness.

The beginnings of a sneer found its way to his expression and he found himself glaring at the empty chair. "A memory?" Emptiness did not respond so he stood and left briskly, intending to leave the memory with it.

***
Go is the game I associate with genius. Potentially more to come. I just felt the need to write... something/anything. Suggestions for the next scene?