Disclaimer: 'The Vision of Escaflowne' belongs to Bandai and other associated peoples. I am not part of said group. No money is being made off this work; it is purely for my delight in writing it and others' in reading it. So, no one sue me please. Thanks much. Dedication: For Taya. On the occasion of a very Happy Birthday. :) "The Birthday Wish" By Dave Ziegler The poster was brightly colored. Irreverent waves of red, yellow, and green assailed every unsuspecting wanderer who happened by the bulletin board this particular advertisement called home. Such an assault usually had either one of two effects: the vibrant conglomeration so offended your senses that there seemed nothing more gratifying than an instant escape, or it skipped its way into your imagination, conjuring a heated desire to actually view its cluttered depiction of runners in battle. I, however, am a different case. Nothing like those clearly detailed sentiments peaked or fought within me when I viewed the poster. There was no change, only the constant, familiar lingering of despair. It knew that I didn't much care for the poster's contents. It knew I didn't much care that Kanzaki Hitomi was being championed as the favorite of several track events at the 2000 Summer Olympic Games. It knew that the weight of gold would make little difference in my life now. It knew - and so fed. Years ago, the prospect of winning gold would have been a dream blissfully stretching to brush its fingers against reality. There is no hiding the fact that my running has always been significantly better than my academics, and so I had always counted on succeeding enough there to get by in life. Or at least to get by until I met my one true love, and he spirited me away from any and all worry forever. It was a lovely dream, one that lent me hope and comfort throughout anything fate felt necessary to toss my way. But fate gave me something I never suspected, something I could not handle. She fulfilled my dream. Fate gave me love in the strongest, most pure form possible. And then, when I had truly recognized and experienced it for but a moment, she took it away. I returned to life optimistic, believing that I was all right. I never noticed the small hollowness that formed deep within my heart the moment my love was taken from me. As the days and months, then quickly years, passed by, tendrils began to snake their way from that area and out into my soul. They were hard, cold, and probing things. They moved about, teasing and testing, then biting away at the complacent aura of happiness and achievement I had built for myself. Soon enough, the tendrils procreated, and their spawn overwhelmed me. Every meet, every trial, every advance toward the Olympic team, even every blue sky and sunny day was tainted and blackened by the trails they ran over my soul. Those tiny maggots knew what I wanted. They knew what I ached for. It wasn't fame or recognition, it wasn't a weight of metal hung around my neck; I desired nothing but him. I could go on about his various charms and the things he did that made me feel content yet giddy from the middle on out till eternity fell, but what possible good could it do? The tendrils laughed with the knowledge that my desire could never be fulfilled, and that I was wasted forever on the Mystic Moon while he spent his life on Gaea. They've set store in my heart, and built there a castle they will never leave. And you ask, yet again, why wouldn't the poster excite me? Let me put it this way. If I were to win tomorrow by some inspired performance I know does not live inside me, then I would trade every ounce of gold for permanent passage back to Gaea, and shake with the excruciating joy of the transfer. I'll be twenty tomorrow, and not one day for the last four years has been right without him. - - - Kanzaki Hitomi turned from the poster, and moved with rigid gait through the swelling crowds of the Olympic Village. Night's invasion had already conquered the sky by the time she arrived back at her apartment. Wandering for lengths of time was nothing new to Hitomi. It always looked as if she were trying to confuse destiny by means of ever changing paths. The set expression that held her face as she unlocked the door to her room, however, also made obvious the futility of such exercises. Life was life, whether you wanted it to be or not. - - - I dropped onto the bed, warm-up suit and all. There really wasn't much for me to do. Shower perhaps? No, too much effort. The room had many other accoutrements, of course. The Australians treated us athletes very well. I just couldn't bring myself to touch any of them, only the bed. It and I were very well acquainted. It held me every night, supported my sagging soul, and absorbed every tear I let fall to its sheets. I sometimes thought of it as a dumb, substitute lover. I indulged in one other aspect of the room: the skylight. It wasn't anything fancy, just a square cut of glass placed in the ceiling above my bed. Yet, I felt as if I could see the whole night sky whenever I lay down. The skylight was almost magical to me in that respect. It seemed to fend off all the ambient light of Sydney, so that I could lose myself in fantasies of trying to pick out Gaea among all the stars. I looked up to the skylight now, searching desperately for the illusionary comfort it provided and saw a flash. The bright, bold streak jerked my eyes from their conciliatory stupor and forced them to follow its burning path across the night sky. It soared for only a few, brilliant seconds, and then fell away from my gaze forever. Shock, more than anything, held me those few moments after the flash disappeared. I had never seen a shooting star before. The light was so bright it seemed tangible, ready to reach out and lift me into the heavens. As I lay down to sleep, I tried to dismiss its presence from my mind, but couldn't. The light from the star kept appearing in my mind, and held my hand till the last drop of consciousness slipped from my body. - - - A feather fell from the sky. It drifted gently along the flow of a warm breeze till finally settling atop the nose of a sleeping girl. Hitomi twitched, and the feather shifted. It tumbled off her nose, and then brushed the peak of her lips. The feather lay there for a moment, tickling her, till finally Hitomi's eyes worked their way open and a hand still lazy with sleep batted the feather from its perch. Hitomi groaned a measure as she sat up. Her body flexed and twisted in an effort to dislodge the weighted fatigue that hung in her limbs. Five fingers on either side of her kneaded their way through waves of soft lush grass. Hitomi froze. A violent tremble sprang through her body like the first burst of champagne from the bottle. There was life and color everywhere. The grass beneath Hitomi was full and plenty, while various wild flowers sprouted and showed their petals to the starlight. And above her - above her there was a sky like she had only seen once in her life before. Its deep black could rival pitch, and along its length the sky was flooded with the vibrant pulse of stars. They were everywhere, strong and visible, not a single one stolen from view by technology's interference. Overwhelming it all was a single, dramatic blue giant. The Mystic Moon. The wind swept through the field again and over Hitomi. She gasped at the sudden intensity of feeling it produced. The wind was warm; the soft gentle safe warm that people yearn for all their lives. It fell upon and lit Hitomi's skin in every place he had held her. It rolled along her lips in an eager but gentle embrace. It coaxed its way through her hair like the smallest brush of his hand. And when it held her, Hitomi felt his heat soar through her body. Its pulse caught every tendril, every worm of worry and hopelessness and obliterated them in a flare. And then his pulse found her heart; it held her there, lending its strength and refurbishing everything that had been lost with long beats of intense fire. The wind massaged Hitomi from the inside out. She knew nothing else: no cold, no doubt, only the warmth. And in that moment a promise was made. "We will be together again." - - - I pulled my warm-up suit off, and gave it gladly to the waiting attendant. The bright Sydney sun tingled as it fell across my skin and the tension of the crowd invaded my muscles and willed them to spring before the race had even started. The day was simply glorious. I could think of no other way to describe it. It attacked me with a fevered pitch that I couldn't withstand. I hadn't felt this way in ages. I was twenty-years-old today, and I knew that my time had come. That supreme certainly flowed through my entire being, springing from my very deepest heart. It would all be different now. I would not fall as I did before. I took my place at the starting block. And when that gun fired, I ran. I ran like an angel was carrying me on his wings. [The End]