Chapter 14: Resolution
Celena hadn’t moved in some time. She was still standing with her feet planted firmly on the roof’s cold concrete. Her eyes were red from crying, her cheeks stained, and her bottom lip held between her teeth to keep it from trembling. The tip of her sword wavered back and forth slightly. Several times she opened her mouth to speak, but her throat would constrict, cutting off the words. Across from her, Allen had no voice either. He could only stare, dumbstruck and at a loss for explanation. His face was pale with nausea; the flowing blond locks had never looked so heavy and dead. Had the wind picked up any more, surly, his knees would buckle and fell him.
Jovey watched them, he himself not feeling much of anything. He was waiting, because despite his convictions he really wasn’t sure how to proceed. His instincts pulled him in different directions: to yell in frustration, to comfort her softly, to do nothing at all and hope for the best. He wanted nothing more than to finish this, somehow, to help the most important person in his life. Because he could see in her something that, oddly enough, comforted him: fear. The same uncertainty and confusion he’d discovered when she’d struck him, days previous, was still present. She was just as lost as all of them.
“Celena.” Jovey stepped forward, and she whirled to face him, appearing very unsteady. He didn’t halt. “Calm down. This isn’t about Allen.”
“It is!” she insisted angrily. “It’s his fault for not telling me.”
Allen swayed a bit, as if he could vomit. Jovey quickly pressed on, ignoring him. “Think about what you’re saying. I know you say you don’t regret Dilandau, but it’s a painful truth. If he hadn’t hidden it, you would have been blamed for his crimes.”
Celena shook her head savagely. “I don’t regret it!” she cried. “I should be blamed! Don’t you understand that I was Dilandau? His actions, his words, his thoughts--“ She choked on a sob before continuing. “Those horrible thoughts. They were all mine!”
“No, Celena.” He approached closer, keeping his voice soft and even. “The Sorcerers put those thoughts there.” He looked to Allen in hopes of an affirmation; the knight managed to nod weakly. “You were someone different once, and they changed you.”
Celena retreated a step, as he’d expected; he forced her back several more, as she was drawing closer to Allen in the process. “Thank God they did,” she muttered under her breath. “I can’t imagine what I’d become otherwise.”
Allen, apparently having reached his limit, dropped to his knees. He clasped his hand over his mouth as if truly ill, and his shoulders were hunched and trembling. No, not now, Jovey pleaded, licking his lips nervously. Allen, I need you on this. You can’t lose it now.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jovey was startled by the sudden wrath in Celena’s voice as she glowered at her brother. “I mean it! If they hadn’t changed me, I would have grown up another Schezar woman. Is that what you wanted? For me to end up like Mother, hollow and alone?”
The Heaven Knight couldn’t speak. He merely closed his eyes, as if to escape her cruel words. But her accusations continued. “Haven’t you figured out yet that our name means nothing? We’re failures, both of us!” Jovey wanted to intervene, but Celena’s sword hand was quivering in want of a target, and he dared not provoke her. “We’re not the beautiful people Mother wanted us to be. We’re twisted and hollow and ugly, just like she was--just like Father!”
“Don’t say that,” Allen said weakly, still unable to face her.
“I’m not like you, Allen,” Celena went on in a slightly more controlled tone. Once more her eyes brimmed with mysterious tears. “I can’t live the way you do. This is my purpose--I need to know that my life has meaning. They died so that I could live. I can’t waste their sacrifice on court parties and goddamned child’s play fighting!”
With that final word Celena threw her sword on the ground; it clanged and rolled several feet away. Jovey jumped, but a moment later was calmed; without the weapon, it would be easier to negotiate. But he didn’t approach right away, waiting for what else she might say.
“Celena, I’m sorry,” Allen told her, placing both quaking palms on the rooftop. “If I’d known how much they meant to you, I--“
“Shut up.” Her words were more like a plea. “They’re gone, and it was my fault.” She scrubbed at her eyes, trying to clear away the tears. “They died too young, before I realized what they were to me. You could never understand that.”
“I do.”
Celena stopped, and turned her heated gaze upon him. “What?”
“I do,” the knight repeated in barely a whisper, so she had to strain to hear. “I do understand what it’s like to lose your loved ones.”
She glared at him, ready to retort, when he raised his head slightly. “I lost you,” he told her, his voice strained with barely controlled emotion. His eyes were filled with pain. “I…didn’t want to lose you again. I didn’t know you were so unhappy.”
“I….” Celena knelt in front of her brother and struck him without warming. The man’s head turned to the side, unexpecting of such force. “Don’t,” she snapped, though her strength was wavering. “I hated you back then--sometimes even as much as Van. You’re a selfish coward!”
“I’m sorry,” was all he could say.
She waited, trembling, for more. But he didn’t move or speak. “Why won’t you look at me?” she asked in quiet, dead voice. “Are…are you ashamed of what I’ve become? I’m not really a Schezar anymore, am I?”
Allen’s eyes widened, and he turned to face her at last. He stumbled over a response, unable to speak.
Grateful for the lull in their argument, Jovey came forward and crouched next to Celena. She didn’t give any indication that she’d noticed: her eyes were only for her brother, searching his face. Her ever-shifting emotions had settled into confusion once more, watching the blond man with sorrow, and guilt. Jovey was beginning to understand at last. “You do regret it, don’t you?” he murmured, briefly touching the scar that ran down her right cheek. She flinched at the contact. “Fanelia, fighting Van and Allen, losing the Dragonslayers--you regret it so much that you won’t--can’t--admit it, even to yourself.”
Celena’s attention snapped to him, but the retort died before it had even been conjured. She was wearing down--falling apart. She didn’t know who or what to trust. He knew those eyes, as they were a pair he’d once worn. “Celena, stop fighting it. You’re strong, but you can’t take responsibility for everything. What happened wasn’t your fault. It was you, but something you couldn’t help.”
“But still--“ she protested through fresh tears.
“I understand,” Jovey interrupted. “When I realized I was the only survivor of the Dragonslayers, I did the same thing--I tried to kill Van. I thought vengeance would give them some peace.” He swallowed hard. “But that’s not why they died. They died so that we would live. Escaflowne--Van--never mattered, as long as you were safe. That’s why.”
Celena’s eyes were wide, wanting terribly to believe what he’d said. She glanced at her brother, who nodded.
“And all this time, Allen’s been taking care of you,” Jovey went on. “He spread lies about you to keep you safe. Many people would have tried to hurt you because of your past, but he risked his honor as a knight--possibly his life--by protecting you.”
Celena jumped, something inside her crying openly at those words. Her mind reached back, recalling when she’d first spoken to Jovey about the Dragonslayers, and learned how deeply they’d cared for their leader. They’d defended Dilandau, even knowing him to be cruel and unjust. Hearing that had made her envious--she wanted that kind of selfless, silent devotion. She looked to Allen once more. He was watching her like a lost child.
I had it all along. Brother…he knew everything I’d done, but he still protected me. He forgave me for all of it. Even though I could have killed him.
Allen licked his lips, groping for the right words. “You’re still my sister,” he said at last, hopefully. “You can still be a Schezar--I don’t care if we can’t live up to that name. It’s ours now--only ours. Please.” He reached out his hand to her. “Celena. Come home.”
Celena looked from his eyes--his bright sapphire eyes--to the outstretched offering. I don’t deserve it. But…. With a sob she fell into his arms, clutching the fabric of his shirt in stiff fingers. Her body shook, and he held her, so tightly that it hurt.
Van and Hitomi made their way out of the forest in silence. They didn’t need to speak, because putting their feelings into words could have only degraded their meaning. Their hands twisted around each other, so that neither knew where one ended and the other began. It was through that simple contact that they expressed all they needed. Their fingers were nearly starved of blood, they held onto each other so tightly.
By the time they reached Hitomi’s house, it was nearing eight o’clock. The sun was just barely hanging on the horizon, like the lazy eye of a curious spectator, making sure the pair returned safely. Not long after they arrived it finally relinquished its duty to it’s pale sister. Hitomi held Van’s hand in an even tighter grip as she unlocked the door and let herself in. Despite the strength in her decision to accompany Van back to Fanelia, she still feared giving the news to her parents.
“Mom? Dad?” She crept inside, her mouth dry, somewhat off balance. Van stayed close as support, for which she was grateful. “I’m home.”
“In here, Hitomi.”
That had been her mother’s voice. It sounded calm, almost wise--like the age-worn tone of her grandmother. Some heavy knowledge was pulling it down. Hitomi gulped, and moved into the living room, where the response had come from.
Hitomi’s parents were seated beside each other on the couch, as if they’d been waiting patiently for her. Tatsumi was sitting on the ground nearby. For the first time in Hitomi’s memory, she couldn’t predict what he was thinking. His face was solemn, subdued. He glanced at her only briefly before returning his visage to the floor.
They know. Hitomi’s attention was diverted suddenly to the television, which was playing softly to her left. The hourly news was playing. “…Hours ago, where several witnesses claimed to have seen a man with wings,” the reporter said in a calm monotone. “Though reports vary, most agreed that a man with white, bird-like wings descended from the rooftop of the National Library at approximately 7:00 this evening. Authorities have yet to respond to this claim….”
Hitomi realized a moment later that she’d been holding her breath. A feeling of dread spread through her as she looked to her parents. They were watching her expectantly. But she couldn’t speak. The words to explain herself slipped from her mind--as if she’d lost all language.
Remember why you’re here, some voice in her mind reached out to her. Remember what you have to tell them. Still the speech she'd planned failed to surface. She was dimly aware that Van had nudged her, and that her parents were still waiting, but she couldn’t speak.
“Hitomi.” At last her mother broke the silence. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
“I….” She started to explain, but the words caught in her throat and hid. And suddenly she felt that her cheeks were wet. She started, touching her fingertips to the tears that had mysteriously begun to fall. It was as if she had already told them--the look on her family’s faces was one of acceptance. They knew what she was going to say long before she’d decided herself. Their farewells were already said.
“Mom, Dad….Tatsumi.” Hitomi licked her lips and scrubbed her eyes clear. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t know until now, but…but now I know what I have to do.” She inhaled deeply, and briefly closed her eyes. “I’m going with Van, to Gaea. I don’t know if I’ll ever come back. But it’s because I love him, and I…I belong there. I’m one of them. You understand, don’t you?”
Her mother and father were smiling faintly. Tatsumi still wouldn’t face her, chewing on his lips in the silence. After a moment he asked softly, “You won’t come back?”
“No.” She smiled, sadly, as she had known all along the truth of her decision. She turned to Van then, and gestured to her grandmother’s pendant, which he still wore. He understood immediately, and pulled it over his head. Hitomi thanked him with a nod and moved to kneel in front of her brother. “Tatsumi,” she said quietly. “I know we never got along, but…we’re brother and sister, right? I won’t forget you.” She took his hand and placed the magenta stone into it. “Keep this for me, won’t you? You might need it some day.”
Tatsumi stared down at the pendant, his eyes dull, but he nodded, and smiled at her. “All right.”
“Thank you.” She stood, and faced her parents. “I…guess I should gather my things.” They nodded, without speaking.
Hitomi went to her room, and Van waited downstairs--she wanted to spend the last minutes she had there alone, to say goodbye to her sanctuary of so many years. She realized early on that packing her clothing would be a waste--she didn’t need to stand out more in Gaea than she already would. CDs, hair dryers, her laptop--without electricity, none of it would do her any good. She was going to live in Gaea. Van was a king--it wasn’t as if he wouldn’t be able to provide everything she needed.
Hitomi stopped as she was placing a photo album into her bag. Van’s a king, she thought, sinking onto the bed. A king. Which means, if I go with him, I’ll be…queen. She gulped, and the photo album slipped from her hand. The thud of it on the floor startled her. Queen. I…never really thought of it like that. Stupid Hitomi--that should have been obvious from the start!
She shook her head to clear it. No, pull yourself together. You’re going back. Van will take care of you. Whatever else happens, you can handle it. She inhaled deeply and returned to packing her keepsakes. If Van is with me, I can handle it.
She was just finishing when she heard the doorbell ring downstairs. A moment later Yukari’s voice drifted up to her. “Hello, Kanzaki-san. Is Hitomi here? We wanted to talk to her.”
Hitomi took in another deep breath. Guys, I’m sorry. She grabbed her things together, and noticed then the bottom drawer of her desk that she’d neglected to sort through. Frowning, she opened it, and found only a long wooden box. The knowledge of what lay inside compelled her to lift it out of the barely used drawer. It was covered with dust, and had a musty smell. Gulping, she opened it.
Lying inside the confines of oak were her tarot cards--unused, since returning from Gaea. She ran her fingers over the surface of the top card, smiling grimly to herself with the memories of how she’d once depended on these simple icons of fate. “People decide destiny,” she murmured to herself, closing the lid once more. She grabbed her bag and, still carrying the wooden box, dashed down the stairs.
As she’d expected, Yukari, Mariko, and Kenji were waiting for her in the living room.
The two girls leapt to their feet as she entered. “Hitomi!” Yukari cried, running over to her. “Are you all right? What happened?”
“I’m fine,” Hitomi assured, guiding her friend back into a seat. “Calm down, and I’ll explain.” She sat down as well, and was thankful when Van joined her side. “I’ll tell you everything.”
They listened to her story, silent. She had no idea what they might have been thinking, or why their faces reflected so much uncertainty. It was as if they, too, realized how the tale would end. The more she spoke the more tense and restless they became, anticipating the conclusion. And though it hurt her, she finished the only way she could finish. “I’m going back with Van to Gaea.”
“But don’t you understand what that means?” Mariko demanded, her eyes brimming already with tears. “We’ll never see you again.”
“I’m sorry.” It was all she could say. “I’m grateful to all of you--I really am--but…I’ve already made up my mind.” She smiled through her pain. “Please, understand.”
“But, you can’t--“ Mariko began, but Kenji patted her shoulder. She glared at him momentarily before falling silent beneath his gaze.
“It’s Kanzaki’s decision,” Kenji said, watching his friend with understanding. “We want her to be happy.”
“That’s right,” Yukari spoke, her voice hoarse because of the tears running down her face. “Hitomi, we want you to be happy. Because we’ll always be friends.”
Hitomi thanked and hugged them, herself crying. She told them to divide her things among themselves, which earned her a round of laughing sobs. They held each other for what seemed like a long time--she didn’t want to let them go. Because she knew once she released them they would be gone from her life forever, without having heard all the things in her heart she wanted to tell them. At last she recoiled, and handed the old wooden box to Yukari. “I want you to have these,” she said, smiling. “I know I haven’t used them for a while, but…they carry a lot of my feelings.”
Yukari accepted the gift, nodding in understanding. “Take care.”
Their parting was suddenly interrupted by a harsh pounding on the door. Someone was calling to them from the outside. Hitomi answered quickly, and was startled to see Jovey standing before her. Behind him was Allen, carrying an unconscious Celena in his arms. “We’re all right,” Jovey assured quickly. “Celena’s going to be okay.” He stopped, staring at her. “Why are you crying?”
Hitomi quickly mopped her face on her sleeve. “It’s nothing--don’t worry about it. Is Celena all right?”
“We hope so,” Allen replied, though he himself looked very unsteady. His handsome face was drawn tight with worry. “We were able to get through to her, but she passed out suddenly.”
“It was difficult avoiding the soldiers on the way here,” Jovey added, glancing about at the inside of her house. It was the first time he’d seen it, and his gaze lingered on the television, wondering at its function. “They were all over. Van, I suggest we leave as soon as possible.”
Van joined Hitomi at the door and slipped his hand into hers. “Yes, I agree. We’ll have to go to the Alseides, so that we all go back together.” He glanced at Hitomi, slightly hesitant. His patience warmed her. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” She smiled at him. Then she turned to her family and friends one last time, and bid them all a final farewell. “I’m going to be okay,” she told them, and she felt the strength of those words course through her entire being. She stood straight, feeling the weight of her possessions in her hands, taking one last look at all she was leaving behind. Though already she had begun to miss these precious people, she felt no fear for the path that lay ahead of her. Because she had chosen it.
“I’m going home.”