Last Exile is owned by Ganeon(Pioneer). I remain in awe at the characterizations captured and presented in this wonderful work of animation.
This takes place during the "Rook Dio" episode.
&&&&&&&
"Where are Dio and Alex? Can they eat with us?"
The Maestro looked upon them both with barely concealed disdain, like a bored cat lazily toying with its catch. By now, the Sylvana was falling to earth in pieces, of that she was certain. She would deal with Alex soon enough. She smiled wanly, almost wearily at them. Alvis was so adorable, but sadly, she was also flawed. Such a waste. Claus' attempts at bravery, at equanimity in the face of her overwhelming power, indeed, in the face of her ability to raise her little finger and have him put to death instantly, were pathetic, almost laughable.
It was also slightly insulting.
She swallowed her mild fit of anger as she rubbed a delicate hand across the baby-soft, powder-white skin of her cheek. She needed to remind herself why she was even breathing the same air as these two. House Hamilton had fallen to the lowest caste among the Guild, effectively making this girl worthless beyond the task at hand. Indeed, knowing Alex as she did, she had used the girl as a shield when he tried to assassinate her in the hangar of the Sylvana. Perhaps a bit reckless on her part given the girl's potential value, but oh, so much fun. Her action caused him to hesitate just long enough for Cicada to put an end to his act of futility. That man Rowe was just so predictable. And this boy, Claus... well, she could only stand to keep him in her presence because of the girl. If Alvis were to become too disoriented because of her fear, her nervousness, she might not correctly recite the Mysteria. That would not be a good thing.
She again became irritated as she considered how much effort she had exerted to this point to keep this plan alive, even stooping so low as to set her esteemed personage upon the Sylvana, that flying piece of trash.
'Look at them, ignoring the finest delicacies placed before them.'
Did these two understand exactly who had invited them to share this meal? Were they simply too stupid to realize that they should be fawning over her every exhalation, that they should be raised to the heights of ecstasy by merely being in her presence? Should she have been surprised? And she had even dressed them up in Guild finery, hoping to impart some semblance of taste and class. Perhaps the adage was true. Perhaps one could not turn a crow into a dove. He was nothing but a dirt-crawler, after all, raised to this station by her whim.
To observe all that she was, and all that he was not.
Dio's friend, indeed.
She sighed softly. No matter. After Alvis recited the four Mysteria and released the power of Exile into her hand, she would have Cicada make them both but a fleeting memory. Or better yet, why not Lucciola? That would be oh so much more fun! She smiled once again, her true intentions hidden by eyes the color and temperature of ice.
Those eyes flitted from the upset, frightened girl to the boy who was still trying much too hard to be something he clearly was not, so far above his station as he now was. She had to contain her emotions once again as she considered the waste of her magnanimity upon these two.
Ah yes, she reminded herself once again. Exile.
Oh well. The most delicious truffles could only be obtained by training pigs to rummage through the dirt and muck, not that she had ever performed such a lowly, disgusting task. That was for those destined to life on a far lower level, and they rarely, if ever, concerned her. The outcome of those tasks was another matter.
She owned the world.
Everything under creation was made for the benefit of the Guild, and, through it, ultimately for her. Dio, her dear brother, was but a tool to be used, like everything else, to retain the power she held in her hands. Before today, even he had been almost useless to her. Such a fool, giving away the Eraclea Mysterion so blithely. She actually felt a wave of self-pity at the thought that no one really understood her, or how difficult it really was to wield power properly. The beneficiaries of her living among them, above them, were clueless to their great good fortune. Her brilliance, her elegance, her beneficence, were lost on all but a few.
But of course, how could they possibly conceive above their limited abilities? She was the Daughter of Heaven, sent to mingle among all these lowly creatures for whatever divinely inspired reason she could not recall. Prometheus brought fire to man; surely she was subjected to this existence for some equally distinguished, importunate purpose. When she had control of Exile...
Dio? Ah, yes...
&&&&&&&
Dragged against his will down the path of the double-helix toward the chamber, Dio became hysterical. He knew that once inside, his DNA would be altered irrevocably. His consciousness, his memories, his free-will, his fears, his... loves, all those things that took years to nurture, to develop, things that made his personality unique would be ripped away.
They were killing him.
Why, Cicada?
"No, I can't!"
"This is your destiny." Cicada urged. His grip on Dio's arm tightened.
"No! I wan't to stay who I am! Please let me go!" Dio struggled.
"Cicada, please don't do this to me!"
The portal to the chamber loomed closer. He became frantic.
"Lucciola! I'll call Lucciola! He'll save me."
Twisting.
Struggling.
Not... strong... enough.
Why was this happening?
"Lucciola! Lucciola!"
As far into the past as he could remember, even when they were children, Lucciola always came when Dio called out, when he needed him.
But not this time. Dio tried, but could now no longer even feel Lucciola's presence. That last piece of the foundation upon which his entire reality had been built was now gone, leaving the gaping hole of the unknown in its place, for Dio to face.
Alone.
The doors of the chamber opened, like the mandibles of some giant insect waiting to devour him.
Terror.
Scream.
Cicada and his assistant threw Dio onto the floor of the chamber and made their exit as the doors closed before he could follow them.
Darkness.
Outside, the Guild priests continued to chant.
&&&&&&&
A/N: This short fic is my gift to those who reviewed my last LE effort, and asked for another story. There will be one more chapter.
Next: The last sentient moments of Dio's life as he is "put to death" before the Trial of Augunne.
W.