Chapter LC: Dangers Both Real and Perceived

After hearing the Khimaira's howl, Jinxie and her companions moved through the swamp with great trepidation. It became increasingly clear that even without the threat of another of the Empire's great dangers roaming free, Caedarva Mire still had more than enough peril to offer.

They had scarcely passed over the first knoll before trouble found them. The swamp was rife with Imps, twisted little flying beasts with bulbous heads and tiny, child-like bodies. While not particularly dangerous by themselves, the fiends were clever and malicious, and often traveled in groups. Not only that, but being frail as they were, they often allied themselves with more powerful monsters of the mire. Thus when they first came upon the foul things, Vaala did not hesitate in her attack.

As the Ninja sighted the first Imp upon cresting a hill, she threw a shuriken so quickly Jinxie did not realize it had even happened for a moment. An instant later, she spotted the flying fiend, by this time already spiraling to the ground with Vaala's metal blade lodged between its wings. As it fell it let out a high-pitched scream, which was cut off almost as soon as it began when the Mithra's hand clapped over it's small mouth. The Imp struggled only briefly before there was a flash of silver, and it went silent forever. Vaala stood from its limp form, sheathing the katana Jinxie had never seen her draw.

"Whoa," Speed murmured, "you're pretty fast."

"Don't let them use their horns," Vaala said without turning around, yanking her throwing star free from the creature's back. "The sound alerts others, and they'll come at us in numbers." She turned to face the others. "You see one, you kill it right away." Without hesitation, she took the small curved instrument, a simple blowing horn made of bone that the Imp was carrying, and snapped it in two.

Jinxie was taken aback by the Ninja's ruthless efficiency. Taking only a moment to wipe the purplish blood off her weapon with her sash, she left the dead fiend where it lay, beckoning them to continue on. Another concern was quickly growing in the back of her mind. If they were to encounter more, it would only be a matter of time before she was expected to use a spell. Quickly, she tried to formulate some sort of excuse as to why that would not be possible.

"Also," they all suddenly stopped as Vaala turned back, facing the rest of the group. "Do not use magic unless you absolutely must."

"What?" Isset tilted her head. "Why is that?"

"Soulflayers."

Jinxie shared a sharp and surprised look with the Puppetmaster. Before Vaala could explain further, Sefadin chimed in.

"Flayers can detect magic and follow it back to its source. It's a hard truth a lot of mercs don't learn until it's too late." The Paladin shrugged his shoulders, adjusting the shield on his left arm. "I hadn't heard that there were any out this way, Vaala," he said to the woman. "You spend a lot of time in the swamp?"

She directed a flat stare at him in response. Rather than answer, she simply turned on her heel. "We must continue on. Come."

"What was that about?" Jinxie asked Sefadin, even as she struggled to contain the relief she felt at knowing she wouldn't be asked to use magic. He smirked, casting a sidelong glance at the Ninja as she forged ahead.

"There's a lot of stuff the Empire is into that it doesn't want getting out. If other kingdoms knew that we were in the business of making monsters, we'd probably catch some mad flak." Jinxie wasn't quite sure what that meant, but could glean his meaning from context. "Anyway, the rumor is that when they want to get rid of something and keep it quiet, it gets dumped out here in the swamps."

He turned directly to Jinxie for a moment, the usual grin on his face. "And if it doesn't want to stay quiet even after that, then it's the job of people like Vaala to make it disappear."

"Where do you get your information from, Captain?" Isset asked as Shoki tapped a finger against its chin thoughtfully. "I've never heard anything like that from the other Sentinels."

"You hear some crazy stuff about the Empire hanging around the places I do," he replied.

"How do you work for people that can do things like that?" Jinxie's disapproval was obvious, but Sefadin only shrugged.

"Keeps life interesting, ma'am. Things get boring, you gotta take a ride on the wild side."

"Oh man, this place is a drag," Speed suddenly interjected. "You can't smoke any of this," he dejectedly dropped a sludgy piece of moss, sighing as it slopped on the ground.

Isset rolled her eyes. "Come on," she grumbled, "Vaala's getting ahead of us."

Twice more after their initial encounter, they happened upon Imps too close by to sneak past. The first time, Isset manipulated Shoki from behind a tree, and the puppet's hand unlocked at the wrist to shoot a deadly crossbow bolt directly into the creature's forehead. Its eyes rolled back as blood gushed from its ears, and it fell to the ground. They moved on silently, leaving it twitching on the swamp floor. Their next encounter did not go so smoothly.

Rounding a sharp bend in a narrow section of the mire passages, Vaala came to an abrupt halt, throwing her hands back in warning. Jinxie almost tumbled into Isset as the two bumped into one another. Regaining herself, she was about to ask what had happened when she saw Sefadin motioning for silence. Rather than say anything, he maintained a finger over his lips, gesturing with his other hand just past where Vaala was struggling to flatten herself against the rock. Through the moss-lined rock passage, in an open area just past where they stood, three Soulflayers wandered freely.

Jinxie could see right away that they were nowhere near the level Kkel had been as one of the creatures. He had been tall and strong, in a robe woven from darkness with skin white as chalk. These Soulflayers looked no taller than Sefadin or Speed, and were covered in light blue robes over skin no pinker than her own. Indeed, their flesh was little more than an oily membrane covering gaunt, elongated frames. Like Kkel, they had bulbous eyes on either side of their large, bald heads, and their faces ended in a row of tentacles, giving them the look of a squid. Whereas his eyes had been sharply blue, theirs were dull and red. If she could take anything from simple appearance, then it was clear that these fiends were far lower on the hierarchy than the General had been as one of them.

However, there had only been one Kkel Solaar, and it had never been necessary to fight him. There were three of these Soulflayers, and it was clear from the way Vaala and Sefadin anxiously eyed them that there would be no negotiating with them.

Slowly, Sefadin slid his sword out from its sheath, and then turned towards Speed and inclined his head. The dull-eyed Warrior blinked a few times before finally taking his meaning, but finally loosened the great axe at his back, gripping it loosely as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Jinxie heard Isset draw out the bladed knuckles she wore over her fists while Shoki made punching motions in the air. Vaala remained unmoving, not taking her eyes off of the Soulflayers. The powerless Hume felt completely out of place, fingering the hilt of the sword buckled to her waist, wondernig if she could make any difference in the imminent battle.

"Wait," Krista whispered, "look."

The Bard pointed just past the trio of fiends, to a hill nearby them. Flitting through the air near the Soulflayers, an Imp was casting a dispassionate eye over the area. A horn of bone much like the others used was resting at its tiny waist. From where it was positioned, there was no way to get out to the open marsh without attracting its attention.

"We go out there, that thing will call its friends," Sefadin warned, "and then it'll be a dead man's party."

"We cannot waste time," Vaala reminded them.

"Take out the Imp first," Isset suggested. "Vaala, you can make it there quietly, right? Just slit it's throat."

She nodded. "The Soulflayers will not go down so easily."

Sefadin took a step forward, a serious expression overtaking his visage. "We can handle them. Privates, Sergeant, you're with me," he pointed to Speed, Krista, and Isset. "I'm not going to lie; this will be tough. Vaala, once we have their attention, you get Jinxie out of here, and we'll catch up to you."

"That is unlikely," the Ninja responded. "Three Soulflayers will not be so easily - "

"Just make sure Jinxie gets through," he cut her off. "That's the job, let's get it done."

The mercenary and the assassin shared a long stare, the Mithra weighing Sefadin's words carefully. After a tense moment, she finally nodded. "Very well," she acquiesced. "I will await Jinxie where the Imp is."


"Okay," he turned back to the others. "If we're all ready, let's - "

"Wait," Jinxie stepped forward, looking out at the Soulflayers and watching the Imp circle the grounds nearby. She turned quickly towards Vaala. "You can get to the Imp without being seen?" Vaala nodded once, then with a flash two slim-bladed katana appeared in her hands. Jinxie felt a rush of exhiliration. A plan was forming in her mind.

"Do it," she commanded, "and bring me back its horn, intact."

Vaala looked at her for a moment, and then bowed briefly before bounding over the rock face and disappearing into the brush.

"What's this about?" Isset asked, but Jinxie motioned her to silence.

"Just wait," she urged. They all peered anxiously down the narrow pass, waiting for whatever happened next.

It all happened quickly. One moment, the Imp was softly beating its wings against the thick Caedarva air, lazily eyeing its surroundings. The next, they just barely saw a flash of silver before it went stiff, falling to the ground. From where they stood, they could see Vaala catch it out of the air, pulling it back out of sight in the blink of an eye. Below the hill, the Soulflayers continued their silent congregation, oblivious to the events only a few yards away. Only a few heartbeats later, the Ninja reappeared, sliding down the rock to rejoin them. She held out her black-gloved hands, revealing with them the small, bone-carved horn of the Imp.

"Thank you," she took it from Vaala's hands, turning it over in her grasp. It was small enough to fit in the palm of her hand, and for a moment she worried about how feasible her idea was. She was tired of feeling helpless, however, and if she couldn't fight with her friends then she would support them however else she could. "Krista," she extended the instrument to the Bard. "Can I trust you with this?"

"Yes ma'am," she answered quickly, taking the delicate bone carving from her.

"Good," she clapped a hand on the Mithran girl's shoulder. "Then I need you to go somewhere remote and play us a tune."

"Clever," Isset smiled, Shoki throwing his hands up in delight.

"Will that work?" Sefadin asked. "I don't think I've ever heard of someone using an Imp's horn. Besides, you know, Imps."

"I'll do it," Krista said in a determined voice. "How far away should I go?"

"Vaala," Jinxie rounded on the Ninja, "are there any good hiding places near this spot?"

"Four," she confirmed.

"Pick one, and take Krista close to it. Let her play until she starts attracting attention. Then drop the horn and come back to us."

She mulled it over, cocking an eyebrow slightly. "We've never tried that," she admitted. "I don't know if it will work."

"We won't know until we try. Like you said, we don't have time to spare, and I'm not losing good soldiers to Soulflayers if I don't have to." Her voice brooked no opposition. "That's the gameplan, now let's do it."

"Ma'am, yes ma'am," Krista barked, then fell to silence as Sefadin hushed her, eyeing the Soulflayers meaningfully.


Vaala and the Bard vanished into the brush, leaving the remaining four to wait for their signal.

"Are you feeling okay, Jinxie?" The question startled her, and she looked towards Isset with surprise. "Sorry, I didn't mean anything from it, you just seem a little off." The Puppetmaster's face fell almost the moment the words escaped her lips. "That probably sounded a lot more insensitive than I meant it."

"It's okay, Isset," the Hume forced a smile. "I'm doing alright. I'll be better tomorrow, after we win this."

Her words earned her a fierce smirk. "Right," Isset replied, and Shoki pumped its arms, psyching up. "Let's get through this."


"You guys hear that?" Speed asked aloud, ignoring Sefadin's call for silence. "Something sounds funny, man."

"Speed, would you - " Isset halted in the middle of her reprimand. "Wait," her tone turned serious.

She did hear it, and a moment later, Jinxie did as well.

It was a single note, in a high register, making its way from some distant location to their ears.

"Is that . . . ?" Isset started to ask. Then another note sounded, vibrating slowly through the bog, lingering just a moment before passing on.

They waited another moment, and then a third shrill bleat from the Imp's horn broke the mire's stillness. After its last echo faded, Isset looked around them, an expression of uncertainty plain on her face.

"So . . . what happens now?" she wondered aloud.

"I think - " before Sefadin could even reply, all four of them began scrambling for cover.

A Soulflayer burst from the narrow passage in front of them, the sound of its robes brushing over dead leaves on the ground the only forewarning they had of its arrival. Sefadin grabbed Speed and forced him down as Jinxie and Isset pressed themselves against a narrow outcropping, just barely deep enough to hide the both of them. The fiend stopped right in front of them, snorting revoltingly as it listened, tilting its head in the direction Krista had gone. It shuffled past a moment later, and not long after a second of the creatures followed behind it. In the air beside the Soulflayer, two Imps circled, following the sound of the horn. A third Imp trailed the first group, and following closely behind came the third Soulflayer, and another group of the flying terrors along with it.

They remained still as the grave while the horrifying procession made its way swiftly past, grunting and snarling as they rushed towards the horn. A palpable aura of malevolence accompanied them, stifling the air with a sickening pall. Jinxie struggled to keep from gagging as the Soulflayers made their way past, a cold, sick feeling trailing in their wake. She did not move again until they were completely out of sight, having made their way up the hill and far away from their small hiding place. She almost cried with relief when she tasted air again, not realizing until that moment she had been holding her breath.

"Alright," Isset said, her voice not betraying a tremble, "I'm not too proud to admit that was terrifying."

"Come on," Sefadin stood up, brushing twigs out of his auburn hair, "we've got to get moving."

A sudden snort sent Isset leaping several feet in the air, and Sefadin's sword came out of its scabbard in a flash. A moment later, a whining rush of breath accompanied it, and they looked down, startled, to find Speed still lying on the ground where he had been shoved. The Warrior was fast asleep, drooling and snoring into the muck.

"For Walahra's sake," the Puppetmaster slapped a hand against her face, even as Sefadin struggled to contain a laugh. "Get up, you ridiculous stereotype," she ordered, and with a swift motion of her wrist, Shoki stepped over to the slumbering mercenary and began shaking him violently.

"It's always something new with this guy," Sefadin chuckled, "right, Jinxie?"

Jinxie did not respond to the Paladin's question. Nor did she share in his laughter. She only looked straight ahead, her eyes registering the growing terror welling inside her.

The Dark Rider looked back, his horse stamping the ground impatiently as the white-armored giant lowered his massive curved spear.

"No," she whispered as she saw him tighten his grip on the beast's reins, two red-burning spheres of light behind his visor falling on her. This was not like their confusing first encounter at all. The frightening power radiating from the rider had a focus now, a purpose.

He was there to kill her.

"NO!" this time she screamed, and before she realized she was doing it, Jinxie was running as fast as she could through the swamps of Caedarva Mire.

She was distantly aware of voices calling after her, but did not let them stop her flight. Leaves and broken twigs were kicked up at her heels as she ran, feeling the terror of the Dark Rider's presence behind her. Where this monstrous being had come from, and why he was there, she did not know, but for some reason his intentions were clear as day. He meant to kill her, to cut her quest short here in this forsaken bog, to leave her child at the mercy of the Lamiae, an orphan with no one to come looking for him. She had to run. She could not face him, but she could not stand by and let herself be killed either. The sound of his mount snorting and whinnying struck her, and she pumped her legs even faster.

The ground squelched beneath her feet as she pressed into the mud and muck. Her lungs burned and her legs strained to keep her moving. She stumbled over a log half-hidden by the swamp and almost fell, fear blossoming anew at the prospect as she desperately righted herself. Everything around her looked the same, and she had no concept of how far she had run. She stopped for just a moment to take stock of her surroundings. Dead trees and thick bog water enclosed her, and the thick vines and bush on the ground obscured any paths in or out of where she was. Isset and the others were nowhere in sight. She was panting, trying to catch her breath and regain her senses when she felt it.

Stirring at the base of her spine, the foreboding presence crept over her like a swarm of insects. It was as if bugs were crawling under her skin, and snakes wrapping around her body. A wave of revulsion made her stomach clench, and she involuntarily stumbled backwards several steps, fighting the urge to throw up. Gagging slightly, Jinxie looked up, searching for the source of the revolting presence.

She did not have to look far to see the Soulflayer in front of her.

Gasping, she instinctively reached for her power only to find the void inside of her being. The Soulflayer garbled something from its disgusting-looking mouth, the tentacles on its face writhing as pale, dull eyes settled hungrily upon her. She backed up as it slowly glided forward, gnarled, pale-skinned hands wrapping around an inky black staff. Slim fingers tapped against its ebon shaft with something resembling anxiousness. Her eyes darted back and forth, but she could see no way out except back the way she came. Between her and that sole exit stood the eldritch fiend. Behind her was only a sheer cliff, too high to climb. She was trapped.

Desperately, she tore her rapier from its scabbard, holding it warningly in front of her. Hubby's lessons instinctively came back to her, and she thrust towards the creature. It hissed, eyeing the weapon warily as it moved away. A moment later its arm lanced forward, and Jinxie let out a cry as its staff struck her wrist. It felt like a venomous sting had just pierced her flesh, and her rapier dropped from her grasp. Something escaped the Soulflayer that sounded like a laugh, twisted with decay. Jinxie bared her teeth at it. This thing was no great phantom, riding her down from some dark realm. This was just another monster. And she had learned long ago not to be afraid of monsters.

"You - " she snatched her sword from the muck at her feet, slicing it upwards. The creature dismissed the strike, and a streak of black lightning burst from the tip of its staff, striking Jinxie in the chest. She dropped to her knees with a gasp, pain screaming through her entire body. A shadow fell upon her as the Soulflayer drew near. A sound of hunger escaped it as it began to envelop her.

The roar which shook Caedarva Mire was like a typhoon striking. Trees broke underneath it, splinters and branches propelling through the swamp. Leaves blew up from the mud and struck at Jinxie as the ground quaked, and she covered her face, surprised and confused. The Soulflayer was staggering away from her, its eyes shooting left and right, searching or the source of the powerful cry. A second roar bombarded the area, and Jinxie covered her ears to try and protect herself from its force. She too looked for where it was coming from, seeing nothing which could account for such a howl.

Then the murky skies above went completely dark, and she saw what was causing the tumultuous noise.

Jinxie was literally thrown into the air when the Khimaira landed, its full weight crashing down upon the ground's surface causing a shockwave effect. It gave another roar as it settled following its leap from the cliff behind her, and she gaped at the monster she saw before her. She had seen the Behemoths which roamed Qufim Island long ago, and this beast was reminiscent of their hulking forms. A mass of purple-colored fur, muscle and sinew bulging beneath. Unlike the Behemoths, this Khimaira was more compact, its four powerful limbs even bulkier than that of the other monster. It stood nearly as high as three of her combined, and she felt she could fall inside of its fang-filled mouth without the beast even noticing, so large was its jaw. The Soulflayer let loose a cry of terror as it felt those jaws close in around it.

With a single motion, the Khimaira tore the fiend's head from it shoulders, crunching its skull between molars the size of a man's fist. A fountain of black blood burst from its neck as the body toppled to the ground. Violently, the giant beast tore into its corpse, bones snapping and organs popping like balloons as it devoured the creature, massive paws pressing down on its body as its teeth tore it apart. She watched in a mixture of shock and awe as the beast feasted upon the Soulflayer, rending apart its oozing black innards and lapping up the juices. It was sickening and fascinating at the same time. Blood spotted the thick golden mane of fine hair which framed the monster's massive head, the same hair found at the tip of its long, prehensile tail. That same tail clubbed at the air as it ate, and a pair of bat-like wings stretched up from its back, curling and uncurling at random. Claws like battle axes dug into the ground as it sat back on its haunches, tossing the dessicated remains of its meal away.

Smacking its blood-encrusted lips, the Khimaira snorted once, sniffing at the air. A low growl began to resonate from its throat, and slowly it turned its head. A pair of large, blank white eyes settled on Jinxie.

Sitting now in the mud, completely taken aback by the turn of events, Jinxie had not even the emotional strength left to feel panic as it opened its jaws again, a blast of hot, fetid breath escaping its maw.

She had felt the unbridled malevolence radiating from the Dark Rider, and knew that he meant to kill her. So too had she known just from the Soulflayer's presence that it wanted to use her for some dark, unspeakable purpose. Just as those two had made plain simply through their aura what their intentions were, the Khimaira's motivations were also clearly understood as it stood again, leveling its gaze on her.

It was still hungry.

Chapter LXXXIX: Spectre

As they made their way through the gilded corridors, Krista passed the time by telling them the tale of the Ruins of Alzadaal. Jinxie scarcely paid attention.

The area was breathtaking, she had to admit. Sretching out as far as she could see were corridors and rooms that looked as if they had been hand-crafted from the floor up. Each piece of intricate metalwork was uniquely shaped and fitted into an incomprehensibly vast pattern, each room another link within it. The walls of the outer chambers were the most impressive part - panes of glass stretching from floor to ceiling, letting occupants see outside into the undersea world which had claimed the Ruins of Alzadaal centuries before.

From what she heard Krista saying, the ruins had been the subject of intense scrutiny in recent years. Excavation teams would regularly travel down to try and salvage what they could of the ancient Imperial treasures, and encounters with archaic monsters set as guardians were not uncommon. The upper levels of the ruins were clear, but down in the depths there were still menaces to contend with. Fortunately, the path they were to take led them nowhere near the more hazardous areas.

"And that's why the Qiqirn are allowed to explore the area," the Bard was saying, concluding some story Jinxie had only half-heard. She rubbed her nose where a slight bruise discolored the skin. "At least, that's how I heard it."

"Issy," Speed tugged on the Puppetmaster's sleeve, his voice a failed attempt at whispering, "that cat is talking."

"Walahra give me patience," the raven-haired woman muttered.

"We are nearly there," Vaala said from in front of them. The Ninja skirted the halls lightly, remaining ahead of the rest of the group. "There is another portal up ahead."

Jinxie took stock of her companions once again. Vaala was a black ops operative for the Imperial military. Sefadin was a Captain of Salaheem's Sentinels. Krista could use the spellsong, and Isset had Shoki, in addition to her own well-developed fighting skills. When Speed's head was clear, he had strength which Jinxie had seen sever the head off a Hydra.

And she stood among them, powerless. She began to feel upset just thinking about it. These people were willing to risk their lives for her son, and she would not even be honest with them. As far as she knew, no one was aware her powers had disappeared as the price for Kkel Solaar's life. They might be counting on her arcane strength to see them through the inevitable oonfrontations to come, and when they needed it, it would not be there. Their lives were being put in danger under false pretenses. But what other choice did she have? If they knew the truth, there's no way they would have let her come along.

She would not let that happen, she resolved. It would be the same as abandoning Drake, and that was not an option.

The loss of her powers stung ever more sharply, and not for the first time she knew she would do anything to get them back.

Sharply, she turned. She heard no voice nor footfall, but the feeling of a presence behind her was inescapable. The pressure of spiritual energy struck her like a thunderclap. A gasp escaped her lips as her eyes fell upon the source of it, staring right back at her.


The Chamber of Passage jolted into view as Kkel returned once more from an Imperial staging point. Stumbling forward, he found his legs in no condition to support him. He just barely managed to put up a hand and brace himself against the cold stone walls so as not to fall. The sword in his grasp fell with a clatter, and for several moments he let it lay where it was. When he finally was able to kneel down to pick it back up, he felt like he might never stand again.

"Walahra," he gasped, "I'm almost too tired to breathe." He might have worried about saying this around his men, except that he was the only one of them to make it back. A fact that did not go unnoticed by those monitoring his progress.

"You're alone," the familiar voice of Aht Urghan's Grand Vizier was devoid of concern, as usual. "Have the others fallen?"

Kkel shot an icy glare at him. "They stayed at the outpost," he forced the words out. He wanted to explain further, but it was taking everything he had to just stay conscious at this point. The dangers of abusing the Runic Portal had been explained to him, but he never anticipated the sheer level of exhaustion. He'd never felt so bone-weary in his life.

Razfahd stood waiting at the end of the hall, watching the Sunserpent. He said nothing else, only watched the General slowly gather the strength to once more make it to his feet. Arms hanging limply, Kkel raised his eyes to meet those of the Grand Vizier. Gradually, he gathered his breath enough to speak again.

"We all made it out. Pixel is helping them recover enough to make the trip back." Even speaking made him want to collapse and sleep for a week. He left it at that, concentrating on keeping his lungs working.

"Mm," his imperious eye looked over the haggard General. "And you left . . . simply to see if you could?"

Had Kkel the strength to bare his teeth, he would have, but Razfahd's assessment was not far from the truth. He used the Runic Portal ahead of his men to test whether or not another jump would kill them outright.

The hours had been full with skirmishes. The elite cadre of soldiers the Sunserpent borrowed from his fellow Generals burned through the early daylight hours with daring attacks against the Undead Swarm's most well-protected strongholds. Only a dozen in number, they used hit-and-run tactics to infuriate their foes and confuse them as to their size and strength. Their assaults had left a swath of destruction across Lamian territory from Periqia to Ilrusi Atoll, causing a general uproar throughout the entire Arrapago Reef. As soon as real confrontation became imminent, they pulled back and retreated to the nearest Imperial stronghold. Thus far, the scheme had worked flawlessly. With only ten soldiers, Pixel, and himself, Kkel Solaar had convinced the Undead Swarm all of Arrapago was enduring a full-scale attack.

With reinforcements rushing to bolster their defenses and their hordes rushing through the swamps, searching for the phantom Imperial army, the path to Medusa herself was quickly opening up. Kkel's gambit was paying off, and Jinxie would be able to recover her child. That was assuming, of course, that he survived using the portal again.

They had gone three times through the radiant blue light which ushered them from one point of the Empire to another before they started feeling it. At first they dismissed it as the fatigue natural from sustaining such an effort. Constant haranguing of enemy forces, striking with such force and precision, maintaining mobility enough to flee at a moment's notice; any of this would wear out even the most conditioned soldiers. After five times through the portal, they knew it was more than that. They began having trouble breathing, and some began to feel faint. Two of the small battalion were powerful magic users, but found themselves unable to conjure up the dimmest spark for several minutes.

At present, they had gone back and forth through the Chamber of Passage eleven times, and Kkel swore that his heart had stopped for a moment after the last one. His powerful blue magic felt as far away as the moon. Only one thing kept him going.

"I owe her my life," he breathed slowly. "And I will repay that debt in full if I have to."

Razfahd gave no outward reaction to the declaration. Instead, he turned to the Tarutaru soldier whose job it was to oversee the Chamber of Passage and muttered some hushed instructions to him. Snapping a salute to the Grand Vizier, the diminutive trooper hurried out of the room. Once he was gone, the dark-haired Imperial gave a powerful sigh, collapsing unceremoniously into a chair backed up against the wall.

"It seems good people are still paying for my actions, Sunserpent," he addressed Kkel, but directed his words to the open air. Composing himself, he returned his sharp gaze to the Elvaan. "Your men won't be joining you for some time. Reports from our scouts tell us all of Arrapago is in an uproar. You can rest a moment."

"If we stop now, they'll know it was a ruse." He wanted to say more, but found the words caught in his throat.

The Grand Vizier's stoic visage returned. "Jinxie knew the risks, Sunserpent, and she would not want you to die for her." He carefully pyramided his fingers, looking down at them contemplatively. "She is a powerful mage and a brave woman. I am certain there is nothing out there she can't handle."


The manner of steed the man rode she had no name for. It looked like a horse - a creature she had seen in fantasy storybooks as a child - but to call the beast a horse would be calling a grand palace a hovel. It stood twice as high as Jinxie herself, and its head alone was as large as her whole body. A coat of gray hair with a sheen like burnished metal covered the animal, and mane richer than the most exquisite fur was draped down across its thick, powerful neck. Two burning red eyes stared towards her as it bucked its head impatiently, snorting flames and baring a mouth full of thick, pointed teeth. Stretching down from its imposing visage, two curled red horns reached out menacingly. Eight hooves beat against the metal ground, four legs of taut sinew and muscle on each side, but where they stamped there was no ring of iron-like hoof against metal. Only a plume of dark flame burst up from the ground on each movement of its powerful limbs.

Seated atop it, impossibly using this fantastic creature as a mount, was a man covered head to toe in armor. Shoulder plates the size of a human head surmounted a gloriously crafted breastplate inlaid with gold. Mammoth silver gauntlets which grasped the beast's reins stretched up to joint guards which had been forged into nefarious-looking blades. Gilt cuisses matched the heavy steel boots in the stirrups of the incredible horse. Every inch of him was sheathed in armor of gold and silver, right up to a helmet which concealed his face entirely. Instead, it appeared akin to a death's head, and like the horse, it was surmounted by two curled and dangerous horns. From behind the faceplate, though she could not see his eyes, Jinxie felt the power of the man's stare. One hand held the horse in place, the other grasped the shaft of a spear bigger than any man, hooked blade on the end gleaming with wicked intent.

What struck her even more than his appearance was the overwhelming power radiating from his being. The rider was at the end of a long hallway, far behind where Jinxie stood now, but the oppressive weight of his essence nearly crushed her. The waves of sheer malevolence emanating towards her froze her in place. She gaped, unable to move as the rider lowered the blade of his tremendous spear, leveling the weapon towards Jinxie's head. The horse beat its hooves impatiently, flames of darkness rising below it. Locked in position, she could only watch as the rider steadied himself for a charge.

"Hey, boss lady, what's up?"

Startled, Jinxie spun around to find Sefadin's confused face behind her. Gasping, she turned back, only to see an empty hall behind her.

Groping fruitlessly for words, she looked at the Paladin, shock still on her face. He returned a quizzical gaze, taking a step back away from her.

"You shouldn't straggle behind, ma'am," he told her. "We almost went on without you."

"There was . . . " she started to talk, but his expression told her everything. He saw no dark rider, felt no presence. She no longer did, either. Only the long, empty expanse of the Ruins of Alzadaal greeted her eyes when she stared down the hallway. "Nothing," she said finally. "I just got turned around. Sorry to worry you."

"Are you alright?" He put a hand on her shoulder, concern in his voice. "I hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain."

She brushed him away gently, collecting herself. "I'll be fine. Thank you, Sefadin."

"Just doing my job, ma'am," the Captain inclined his head briefly. "Let's catch up to the others, Vaala says we're almost there."

When they reached the rest of the group, Vaala was standing before a platform glowing with the same soft glow of the Runic Portals back in Whitegate. "Through here," she told them. "The ruins are connected by a series of portals like these. This one will take us where we need to go."

True to her word, moments later the cadre appeared within an expansive and ornate chamber, at the end of which was a hallway that took them back to the surface. After a brief word with the Imperial guards stationed at the exit, they took their first steps into the Caedarva Mire.

"Welcome to the jungle," Sefadin proclaimed, outstretching his arms with a flare.

"It's a swamp," Krista said, blinking. "Jungles are different."

The Captain slapped his palm into his own face. "Alright, first thing when we get back, we're going over your lessons in being dramatic."

"Yes, sir," she sighed, kicking a clump of soggy ground.

"Half a day's march will take us to the Arrapago Reef," Vaala told them. "From there we will - "

She stopped. They all did.

From somewhere deep in the mire, far off in the insect-laden swamps and bogs, through the muddy marshes and endless muck, a howl had broken the air.

It was deep, like some great horn bellowing, but rough and guttural as well. The gray skies above suddenly became alive with motion as flocks of birds took wing, fleeing from their nests in the howl's wake. For a long moment it persisted, and then slowly faded away, leaving a trailing echo to crawl its way through Caedarva Mire. Not one of Jinxie's group said a word at first, only exchanging glances as they listened to the wail die down.

"What was that?" Isset finally whispered, and Shoki visibly trembled.

"It sounded huge," Krista was gripping her flute tightly in both hands, her eyes darting back to the entrance into Alzadaal they had just emerged from.

"That," Vaala's voice was quiet, and the Ninja had perhaps unconsciously crouched down slightly, "means we need to be very fast, and very careful."

"What is it, Vaala?" Jinxie could not afford cryptic answers. She had to know what was in the swamp, perhaps even lying in wait for them.

"There's a Khimaira out here," she replied, and in a blur a pair of katana appeared in her hands. "And if we want to see Arrapago alive we must avoid it at all costs."

The proclamation sank in to each of them as she spoke, and a crushing silence overtook them. Jinxie was not even sure what a Khimaira was, but even Speed looked spooked at the thought of it. All the Imperials were given pause at the idea of its presence in the Mire.

As for herself, she had frozen for a different reason.

The moment Vaala had told her what the source of the howl was, she had felt the presence of the dark rider wash over her once again.

Chapter LXXXVIII: Departures and Arrivals

First light had not yet breached the horizon when Kkel Solaar struck.

Like a sudden monsoon, his attack breached the Lamiae defenses at Ilrusi Atoll. In a landscape dominated by half-submerged islands, little more than clumps of mud emerging from the shallows, he seemed to be everywhere at once. The sound of swords clashing against Lamian spears echoed through the fog which blanketed the area. From their makeshift bases, formed from the remains of half-a-hundred shipwrecks, the Undead Swarm rallied to meet their attackers. The reef which crowned the top of the Arrapago Islands became a nest of activity in moments as the Sunserpent made his presence known.

An explosion shook the early morning skies, sending wooden planks careening through the air as the mast of a long-beached trireme toppled like a redwood falling to the ground. The bones of the crew still aboard the vessel were splintered by the force, sinking into the mud as they hit the ground, unusable by the Lamiae which commanded them. Orders were hissed violently in the tongue of the snakewomen, and the rattle of their foot soldier's remains marked them spreading out to search for their foes, hidden deep in the dense fog surrounding the reef. They retreated almost instantly as fire flew from the haze, streaking towards their ranks and leaving the rotting wood of their sunken fortresses in flames.

The confusion was short-lived. A Merrow sorceress emerged from the depths, holding a staff aloft which blazed with intense heat. A wave of flames crashed through the morning fog like a living thing, eating it alive as it roared with great fury through the obscuring mists. Within moments, the fire had devoured enough to clear the air, and the undead charged forward to face their bold assailants head on.

Nothing was there to greet them. Not so much as a ripple creased the water to mark that anything was there. The Undead Swarm stood amongst the flaming husks of the ships which dotted the reef, indecision gripping the Lamiae which pulled their strings. Of the attackers there was no sign, not even a clue as to what direction they may have come from or gone. Angry voices hissed back and forth, and ultimately search parties broke in all directions to sweep the reef and find their hidden foes.

In the time it took for them to make that decision, the Sunserpent and his men were already back in Aht Urghan.


"Through the power of the Astral Wind, the soldiers of the Empire may come and go as they please."

True to his word, Captain Sefadin did look more impressive in armor. As the first vestiges of sunlight crept over the rooftops of Whitegate's Commoners Ward, the polished chain mail links beneath his surcoat glittered brightly. Heavy gauntlets and leggings gripped his limbs, and a scabbard hung from his side, the hilt of his sword never far from his grasp. Save for the grin on his face, the sandy-haired mercenary was unrecognizable from the man Jinxie had met the night before. In his silver armor, blade at his side and shield at the ready, he appeared far more the guardian she had been promised. At the moment, his gaze was locked intently on the massive iron doors which held behind them the Chamber of Passage.

"I'm not sure how it works, or why it can only take you to certain locations, but it's the most important strategic advantage we have." He appeared to be talking as much to himself as the others. "The ability to assault the enemy strongholds and return our soldiers back to their home sweet homes in an instant. I've even started writing a song about it." He cleared his throat, and then in a bold voice, declared "Take me to your heart, feel me in your bones, just one more night and I'm coming off this long and winding road." Pausing, he then gave a nod. "That's all I've got. You should finish the rest."

"Me?" Krista looked startled when her Captain's attention suddenly fell on her.

"Of course! I can't do everything for you, Private. Now finish that song."

She blinked repeatedly, and then began patting herself down. Gone was the heavy cloak and robes she had been wearing the night before. The Mithra was now suited in pants and boots with a simple cape around her shoulders and an open blue jacket with a shirt far too revealing for Jinxie's taste. She was definitely prepared to be mucking about in a swamp rather than performing in a city, and the belt at her waist held a dagger in addition to her flute. "I know a brought a quill and paper," she muttered, searching herself without much luck.

"We'll have to work on this," Sefadin chided, then looked back at the Chamber of Passage. "You never know when the urge to rock is going to strike, Private, you have to be ready. Where was I?" He paused briefly, and then looked towards Jinxie. "Right, using the portal inside. No one has ever attempted what General Solaar is doing today."

"Why is that?"

"Well, using the Hall multiple times is like trying to check out some baller concerts one after the other. You get to the first and it's awesome, and you hear some sweet tunes. Then by the time you get to the second, it's like, "hey man, this is cool, I'm still working a good buzz, let's enjoy it." But then you hit up the third and you're all like "damn, I should've quit drinking like an hour ago, this isn't even my jam, you know?"

Jinxie stared at him. Slowly, she nodded, and Sefadin smiled. "Sweet, I knew you'd get it."

"Using the Hall multiple times exacts a strenuous toll on the user." They turned to find Vaala standing before one of the tall columns lining the broad avenue. As daylight crept across the street, it chased away the shadows concealing her. Jinxie gave a start at her voice, not even realizing the Ninja had joined them until she spoke.

"That's what I said," Sefadin replied, then focused on the apparent newcomer. "So," he gave a low whistle. "they're bringing in the black ops for this one, are they?"

Vaala did not respond. Instead, she took a knee before Jinxie briefly, and then raised her head to await further instruction. Swathed all in black, there was no way of knowing where or how many weapons she had concealed on her person. The mask which hid her face from the bridge of her nose down gave away no expression, and her slim gray eyes never changed.

"The General faces the distinct risk of exhausting himself and his troops," she advised. "To act as we are doing currently goes against all the safeguards normally put in place for use of the Hall."

"Now those military guys, they can go in as much as they want," Sefadin folded his arms as he spoke, brow creasing in thought. "Mercs like us are allowed a few passes a week if we get hired for a mission. Part of it is so we don't stress the magic of the Astral Candesence, but another part is for our own protection."

"Will he be alright?" Jinxie had seen Kkel and Pixel off in the early hours before dawn, and neither had shown any concern for themselves. Pixel had assured the Red Mage she would be seeing the both of them again soon. "They have Pixel, and Gjallarhorn, and Kkel himself . . . "

"It is possible General Solaar's constitution will allow him to use the portals, and the Bard's spellsong will help the others endure as well," Vaala's words were matter-of-fact, "but they will wear out eventually."

"So," Sefadin interjected, his voice far more reassuring, "we'll just have to be done with our part before that can happen."


Bones crunched beneath Imperial boots as the soldiers beneath Kkel Solaar beat a hasty retreat from the Leujaoam Sanctum. The fallen undead at their feet were too battered to respond to the commands of their Lamian masters, torn apart by the powerful magic unleashed by the Sunserpent. From every cavern, the sounds of battle echoed throughout the subterranean lair of the beastmen. Centuries-old crystal formations which grew from the cold granite shook as Kkel's lightning barrage filled the corridors with combat.

Beneath the sound of steel against steel, an undercurrent of something entirely different ran through. A fast-paced March, performed at double the regular tempo, laced itself into the din of battle. It played almost constantly, only audible in between the shouted snarls of Lamian guards and the battle cries of Imperial soldiers. While the rest of the action ricocheted back and forth through the vast series of caverns, the song stayed stationary, its melody reaching out to those whom would hear it. Frequently, a patrol of the undead or even one of their masters would come in search of it. The area around the musician was littered with their remains.

Pixel finished weaving her spellsong for the twelfth time since they entered the underground Lamian domain, and lowered Gjallarhorn from her lips. Kkel nodded to her, and she fell back into the tunnels from which they came. Within moments, the absence of the music became a noticeable void in the rest of the cacophony around them. As soon as it was noted amongst the Imperial soldiers, they fell back from their position, obeying the signal to retreat.

"Are you alright?" Kkel asked with concern when one of his borrowed soldiers came back with a cut across his brow, blood mingling with the sweat which covered his face.

"I'm fine General, I'm fine," he gasped, lurching forward as he struggled to keep his sword in hand, "let's get to the next one."

Kkel clapped him on the back and sent him down towards their escape route. Both he and Pixel shared a look of concern as the last of their brigade made for the extraction point. The strain in their own eyes showed clearly.

The sound of a distant, angry chorus of hissing grew rapidly closer, and the pair followed after their soldiers as serpentine shadows appeared on the cavern walls.


The sun was breaking fully free of the horizon line when Isset arrived, a heavy pack slung over her shoulders. Shoki skittered faithfully by her side and, trailing distantly behind them, a forlorn-looking Speed followed them in.

"What a drag . . . " he complained, dragging his feet as they approached the others. "You shouldn't be able to get up this early, man, there should be like, a law, man."

"Speed!" Sefadin exclaimed. "What's up my man?" The Captain greeted him with a handshake so brief it appeared more like they simply clapped their hands together. "I didn't see you at the show last night."

"I was gonna go, but some major buzzkill made me stay home and get ready for this."

"I'm right here, Speed," Isset reminded him.

"You two know each other?" Jinxie asked, watching them share their greeting.

"Yes ma'am," Sefadin confirmed. "Speed and I met at last year's Crew Fest."

"Crew Fest?" She cocked an eyebrow curiously.

"Ma'am, Crew Fest is a gathering of all the biggest bands, or "crews" in the Empire for an all-day performance, ma'am." Krista received a look of approval from Sefadin as she explained. "It's a treat for Bards and those who just appreciate good music and a good time."

"Word," Sefadin nodded.

"Which word?" Speed scratched his head, confused.

"Doesn't matter, are we all here?"

Jinxie appraised her gathering. Isset and Speed had been with her almost since she had arrived in Aht Urghan, and certainly through all her greatest trials. The Puppetmaster was a true friend, and had proven herself one many times since their meeting outside the palace. Speed was not reliable by any means, but she would have been lying if she said his antics were not at least amusing, and when his head was clear he was the most formidable warrior she had ever come across. She was happy to count the two of them amongst her companions for this latest ordeal. The reminder of their presence, however, also served as one of Xaerus's absence.

Sefadin and Krista she remained unsure of. The Hume certainly looked the part of the Paladin, bedecked in shield and armor, but his disposition was troubling to say the least. And while his trainee certainly displayed an eagerness to perform, she was a greenhorn at best, completely untrained and unprepared for what they could be marching into. She reminded herself that he was a Captain of Salaheem's Sentinels, a higher rank than even Isset held, so he must have proven his mettle in some way or another. It was nothing she had seen with her own eyes, and thus her skepticism remained. They were a colorful pair, but Jinxie would have given much to have Kkel and Pixel by her side instead.

Then there was Vaala. The woman had barely moved and rarely spoken since revealing her presence. None of the others knew anything about her, and that worried Jinxie immensely. She knew the Imperial Palace had been infiltrated up to the very highest levels, who was to say Chiz and his allies had not left agents behind? She watched the Ninja watching all of them, and felt the fear of uncertainty creeping up her belly. She did not want to be uncertain of anything in this endeavor. Her son's life was at stake, there could be no risk of failure.

The thought of Drake in the hands of the beastmen tore through her again, like a wound reopening. She almost doubled over as the still-fresh pain of loss struck her, compounded with the absence of her power. She had surrendered her magic to rescue Kkel Solaar, and it was all for nothing in the end. That which she had been striving to save was taken from her.

She had no recourse, she knew. Whatever misgivings she had, this was the team she had to work with. They had to succeed, and that was all there was to it.

"Miss Jinxie," she turned, almost giving a start as an Imperial soldier appeared at the iron gates which marked the Chamber of Passage, "we're ready for you."


"The scouts are all reporting in. The Undead Horde is on high alert." Razfahd had donned his imperious black armor again, and gestured towards the pedestal before him. Jinxie was amazed to see that images of the Empire appeared on its surface, so real they looked like sculptures made from light. "Garrisons from all over their usual stations in Arrapago and Caedarva are being drawn towards the areas Kkel is assaulting. We will have no greater opportunity to get your unit past enemy lines."

"Alright, let's go get this witch," Sefadin was growing excited. "We'll drop right into Arrapago Reef and take Medusa down today."

"No," the Grand Vizier snapped, "don't be a fool. The Lamian fortress where she dwells is still crawling with snakes. No, you're going in through the ruins."

"Safe," Vaala remarked. "We often use the ruins to approach locations undetected."

Razfahd nodded. "Your window of opportunity is small, so make the most of it. The ruins will bring you as far as Caedarva Mire. Once there, it is up to you to find your way to the Lamian Queen and recover Jinxie's son."

"But that could take days!" Isset sputtered. "How long do you expect General Solaar to hold out?"

Razfahd managed to contain his sneer. "He will be given time to rest, mercenary. The other Serpent Generals are already lining up to take his place so he can recover. Truth be told, our offices are flooded with requests from volunteers wanting to help out the famous Jinxie in any way they can. We will not falter on our end of the operation. Make sure you uphold yours."

"I can guide us through the Mire," Vaala offered. "It will take us more than a day, but not by much. By dawn's breaking tomorrow we shall be near our goal."

"We're ready," Sefadin stated, indicated himself and Krista. The Bard nodded in affirmation.

"So are we," Isset clasped Jinxie's shoulders, looking at her compassionately. "Just say the word, Jinxie. Let's go make them pay for what they did."

She gave her friends, old and new, another look. After only a moment's pause, the Red Mage straightened the brim of her hat, affixed atop her mass of blond locks, and gave them a fierce nod. "Thank you," she managed to find some of her old strength in her voice. "but enough talking. Let's get going."

Isset smiled widely as they all clapped a salute in her direction. At Razfahd's order, they were allowed into the Chamber itself, which was little more than a single hall. Six portals through which soldiers returned to the city from missions abroad were separated by a broad walkway, and situated three on each side. At the end was a staircase, leading straight up to the central portal which would take them to their destination. It flared to life, pulsing waves of blue light towards the low ceiling.

Sefadin was first, ascending the stairs and turning as the light engulfed him. Before he even had time to grin at them, he vanished in a flash. Isset followed after him, both she and Shoki becoming points of brilliant light before blinking away entirely. Then Krista disappeared after them, and then Speed. Vaala gave a short bow to Razfahd and Jinxie before she stepped into the portal, leaving only Jinxie herself behind.

"Jinxie," she was surprised when Razfahd called out to her as she began walking up the stone steps, "I want you to know that I am sorry."

She gazed at him. She had not the energy left to hate this man. "I know, Razfahd," she told the Imperial. "I know."

"Good luck, Bastokan," he wished her sincerely, and then he was gone as her whole world became blue.

"Grand Vizier, sir?" The Tarutaru at the entry to the hall spoke, and Razfahd cast an eye down on him.

"Yes, Sharin-Garin?"

"Sir, I, er, I wasn't notified of any further rotations of Imperial soldiers to relieve General Solaar. Should I prepare the Chamber for . . . ?"

"That will not be necessary," Razfahd interrupted, clasping his hands behind his back. "Kkel Solaar will not be relieved. He knows our soldiers are stretched too thin at the moment. He is prepared to keep this up for as long as he has to."

"But, what you said to the others . . . "

"I said what was required to keep them moving," the Grand Vizier explained, "and to make sure Jinxie's son returns to her safely. I said . . . only what General Solaar and I agreed would be said when the question was raised."

He stared for a long time at the portal in front of him, hoping the Empire would not lose more than it already had by the time this was all over.


Jinxie arrived in the Undersea Ruins of Alzadaal and found the others waiting for her. Like them, she marveled at the expanse of the ruins, which went on endlessly in all directions. She gaped at the windows, revealing aquatic life she had never even dreamed of swimming past them. She admired the intricate work of the ruins, of which every inch from ceiling to floor had been delicately crafted from the finest metals. As Vaala led them through into the deeper parts of the massive underwater complex, it became clear that the astonishing place had an endless supply of surprises and marvels.

With the amazing location surrounding her and the task at hand, it was easy for Jinxie to forget the face she had seen in the moment of her transport from Aht Urghan to the Ruins of Alzadaal.

A masked face, hidden behind a horned white helmet, and mounted on a terrible steed. A knight, waiting for her in the space between worlds.

Watching her.

Chapter LXXXVII: Bodyguards

By day, the Shaharat Tea House was a gathering of the peaceful and erudite. The scholarly of Aht Urhgan congregated there to discuss the current events of the day, engage in philosophical debate, or listen to scheduled poetry readings. Subjects from as close as the Commoner's Ward and as far away as Tshaya passed through on a daily basis. A wide range of accents filled the air with the same thickness as the scents of jasmine and chamomille. Foreign dignitaries, regular citizens, and average tourists sought out the Shaharat Tea House as a quiet spot of intellectual discourse and silent contemplation, along with savory hot drinks of exotic flavor.

By night, the story changed entirely.

Jinxie struggled to keep her bearings as flashing lights assailed her from every angle. A piercing spectrum of strobe lighting that was further obfuscated by the glut of humanity crowded together in the tight space. Bodies which were little more than animated shadows against the intense lighting bounced up and down arhythmically. Adding to confusion, some of them were wearing wristbands that lit up in the dark, sending a flurry of rainbow colors swirling through her already affronted vision. Every few seconds she had to blink the lights out of her eyes, but it proved a futile effort as they grew brighter with every step she took.

The noise was worse by far, however. Around her, the wildly spasming congregation of teenaged Imperials shrieked and grunted in a gross parody of singing and dancing. A mixture of leather, hair dye ,and body odor filled her nostrils as she struggled to push her way deeper into the mass of people. They hooted and hollered, and more than one of them tried to grab at her before she ducked behind someone else. She was buffetted about from one body to the next as they recklessly hurled into each other, bouncing her slight frame about like a leaf in the wind. Some of them were shouting things, but it was lost in an unintelligible sea of noise emanating from the crowd itself and the unbearably loud performers they had gathered around.

Lacking a proper stage, they had simply cordoned off an area and set up their instruments behind it. Jinxie had attended musical performances before, but nothing like this. The singer was a stick-thin red-haired Hume thrashing wildly as he spit screaming lyrics out into an amplifying stick. She could see where the device was attached to a set of amplifiers, which further artifically boosted the sound of his screeching. An Elvaan with raven locks reaching down to his waist wailed on a modified lute, his fingers slicing up and down the strings. All the members of the band, in fact, were men with hair nearly twice as long as Jinxie's.

"Ack!" Her protest was lost in the overpowering sound as a mass of sweaty hair struck her in the face. She turned swiftly, only to find that the offending smack could have come from any of dozens of the teenaged revelers, all of them sporting hairstyles emulating the band. Jinxie brushed stray strands away, making a disgusted face as the scent of fresh dye assailed her. It had been less than ten minutes since she had entered the scene and she was already regretting her decision. The question of why the Empire would assign her an escort which frequented such places was also prominent in her mind.

The group completed their number with a drawn-out wail from the singer. As he held a warbling note, the drummer, a surprisingly swift Tarutaru, punctuated every second of the scream with a rapid-paced hammering that sent the crowd into a frenzy. The screaming was deafening as they finished the song, and the percussionist leaped up onto his own drum set, hurtling the set of sticks he used into the audience. A scuffle broke out as people dove over one another in an attempt to grab them. Jinxie pressed herself as hard as she could up against the wall, watching long-haired kids crush one another in a pit of human stink and struggling to understand the appeal.

It was more than an hour later before the area had finally cleared. Maintenance crews who worked for the Tea House labored to clean the stains of food, sweat, and blood before the next business day began. A few straggling fans hung out around the entrance, and Jinxie's nose caught a familiar scent coming from them.

"It's a good thing I didn't bring Speed," she murmured, making a sour face as the acrid aroma wafted by her. With a heavy sigh, she looked over the area. She had been told the mercenary Naja had ordered to accompany her would be waiting for her here. Now the crowd was all but gone, and no one had presented themselves. One by one, she watched the security guards supervising the event go home for the evening, and not a one of them presented themselves to her. Bitterly, she turned to leave, only to be nearly run down by a Mithra girl running by her.

"Oof!" She cried, and the Mithra squealed in surprise as she nearly tumbled head over heels. They both fell to one side, Jinxie rolling with practiced ease and regaining her footing. The other girl fell flat on her face, and came up groaning as she held her nose.

"Are you alright?" Jinxie realized her voice had much less concern than it did annoyance. If the Mithra caught it, she didn't let it show as she held her nose, rising to a sitting position.

"'M I bweeding?" She peered up at Jinxie with quavering brown eyes, nose held tightly in-between two fingers. Kneeling down, she brushed the Mithra's hands away, examining her.

"Tilt your head up," she ordered, looking her over. The girl looked to be barely out of her teens, and was wearing robes entirely out of fashion for the crowd which had just gathered. Her eyes caught a glimpse of a harp firmly strapped to the Mithra's waist. "You're a Bard?" she questioned.

She nodded, sniffling noisily. "I came here with my boss, but I lost track of him." Her lowered her head down in response to Jinxie's hands making her do so. "Is it broken? There won't be a scar, will there?"

"You're fine," Jinxie stood up, brushing off her tabard. "There'll be a bruise, it'll go down in two or three days. Try to watch where you're going."

"A bruise?" She pouted. "That's kind of cool, I guess . . . but it's definitely not going to look good." The Mithra looked around, snorting again and holding her nose. "Maybe I can find a mage to heal it." Suddenly, her eyes locked onto Jinxie, looking her up and down for the first time. "Hey! Are you a mage? You're dressed like one. Could you wiggle your fingers and make the bruising go down?"

"I - " Jinxie froze. A week ago she could have done this with as much effort as it would take to blink. Now when she reached for the magic inside her, she felt nothing. A hollow pit where once was the ocean. Every second she felt the loss stinging inside of her, and only an even deeper loss kept her going.

"No, I'm not a mage," she told her. "I'm not anything. I'm just here looking for somebody."

"Well, I - "

"Krista!" Jinxie spun around as a booming voice rang out through the emptied square. Beside her, the Mithra girl jerked upwards, To Jinxie's surprise, the Bard stood at sharp attention, body stock still save for a halway-decent salute, her eyes fixed straight forwards. Turning, the Hume stumbled back a step when she realized the object of the other's attention was standing directly behind her.

It was a man, sandy hair disheveled and loose about his hard, yet smiling face. He had prominent Aht Urghanian features, and his skin tone was the darkened tan common of Imperial citizens. He was wearing what might have once been a shirt but was now a tattered cloth over a torso of rigid muscle. A belt held up loosely-fitting pants which were then tucked into heavy leather boots. The grin on his face was rogueish and sly, more befitting a man much older than he appeared to be. Tucked into his belt, Jinxie spied the drumstick which had been tossed into the crowd.

"Sir, the operation is complete, sir!" Krista barked from beside her. The larger man clapped his hands together, rubbing them enthusiastically.

"Excellent, Private Krista, now; what did we learn?" His voice was rough, like sandpaper was scratching across his vocal chords. Planting his fists on his hips, he tilted his chin up, appraising the young Mithra with an intense stare.

Her lip trembled for a moment, but she composed herself quickly. Taking only a moment to rub her nose again, Krista shouted out what Jinxie judged to be a fairly well-composed response. "Volume is not a substitute for talent, sir!"

"What else?"

"Sir, showmanship is key, sir!"

"Good," he nodded, leaning in closely, "what else?"

"Sir, music can affect emotion on a mass scale, sir!"

"What else?!" The big man barked, now practically nose-to-nose with the Mithra.

"Sir, always leave them wanting more, SIR!"

His smile returned, and he leaned back up, satisfied. "Good work, Private. We can consider this operation a success." By the way she exhaled, Krista was obviously relieved things had worked out well. Before she could be addressed again, the sandy-haired man's attention fell on Jinxie, and she felt the surprising weight of his stare.

"How do you do, ma'am?" He inclined his head smartly. "I apologize if my apprentice here has disturbed you."

"N-No," she stammered, surprised, "not at all." Composing herself, Jinxie straightened her back and raised her eyes to face the larger man. Even at her full height, she was still head and shouldered below the musuclar Imperial. She always felt so much taller with her magic. Now she felt differences in physicality so sharply that they stung. "I am here looking for someone, and Private Krista was going to assist me."

"You were?" The Imperial turned curiously to the Mithra.

"I was?" She said, confused. Then she caught Jinxie's glance and snapped back to attention. "Sir, yes sir! Er, ma'am." She scratched her head, and then rubbed her nose again. "I'm confused," she admitted.

"Don't worry about it, Private, the operation is a success." To Jinxie's surprise, the larger man went to attention himself, offering her a salute. "Provisional Mercenary Major Jinxie, I presume?"

That wasn't so shocking. Most of the people in Aht Uhrgan knew her by now, so she nodded in acknowledgment. "Yes. I'm here to meet the bodyguard assigned to me by the Empire. I hadn't expected the scene to be . . . what it was."

"It's the band," the man Jinxie reasoned was a soldier of some kind explained. "They're a motley crew, but I like them." Then, he clapped his fist against his heart, and indicated to Krista that she should do the same. Realization creeped across Jinxie's mind with a mixture of distress.

"Captain Sefadin of Salaheem's Sentinel's, at your service," the soldier introduced himself. "Pleasure to be aboard."

"You're Sefadin?" She tried somewhat unsuccessfully to mask her astonishment.

"In my native habitat," he grinned. "But don't worry, Major, I'm much more impressive in armor."

"You're Jinxie!" Krista was suddenly staring, open-mouthed. "You're the one we'll be traveling with? This is phenomenal!" She suddenly produced a quill and parchment from within the folds of her robes, scratching at the blank sheet furiously. "All the other Bards in the city are dying to write songs about you, and I'll be able to one-up all of them! This is incredible! I'm - "

"Private Krista!" Sefadin barked, and the Mithra nearly dropped her items, scrambling to keep them from falling. "What have I told you about using language like that?"

"Sir, my apologies, sir!" Krista shouted. Then, with full sincerity in her eyes, she turned back to Jinxie. "Ma'am, this will be totally baller, ma'am."

"Much better," He approved. "Well then," his hazel eyes returned to Jinxie. "what are your orders, ma'am?"

It was a lot to take in all at once, but Jinxie's mind worked quickly. Naja Salaheem and Razfahd would not have assigned this man to her if he was not the best. Despite his appearance, she had to trust that they knew what they were doing. There was no time to quibble or debate. She had to be on her son's trail by first light.

"Gear yourself for travel and meet at the Hall of Transference at dawn," she commanded. "We leave for Caedarva Mire tomorrow morning."

"Yes ma'am," the Captain acknowledged, still grinning. Krista went to bow, but then remembered herself and saluted instead.

After answering a few more basic questions, Jinxie left the Shaharat Teahouse, heading back to her lodgings. She had been promised two of the finest soldiers in Aht Urghan to accompany her, and she supposed Sefadin and Krista were it. That bothered her, however. She couldn't properly take the measure of the former, but Krista was obviously a greenhorn in the whole business. Also, a Bard was hardly a bodyguard. If she was talented in the spellsong, she would be useful, doubtlessly, as Xaerus was still conspicuously absent. But to protect her from the dangers of Caedarva Mire? Jinxie had to wonder if there was something she didn't know.

What she did know, as she walked down the darkened and emptied streets of Imperial Whitegate back to her room, was that she was not alone.

A tingle along the back of her neck told her there were eyes on her. The familiar sensation of being watched was one she wouldn't forget even without magic to confirm it for her. She continued walking, picking up her pace. The feeling persisted, and she heard something scrape against the roof of one of the buildings surrounding her. The wide avenues of Aht Urghan suddenly felt very confining as she sped up again.

Practically running, she pumped her legs faster. Every street looked the same in the dark. She felt a twinge of panic at the base of her skull, and forcefully suppressed it. Someone was following her, she was certain of it. She had no idea where she was, and couldn't find her way around the city in the dark. Whomever was trailing her was not giving up. If it were an assassin, someone sent by Doshu to finish what Chiz started, she would have no cover, no defense. As the aching absence in the pit of her stomach reminded her, she would have no magic, either.

"I refuse to be helpless," she told herself, and in a flash she spun around. The rapier buckled to her side rang out as she tore it from its scabbard. Her husband had been a magnificent Samurai, his wife was not helpless in swordplay.

"Come out where I can see you," she demanded. The night was still. Nothing answered her call. "I know you're there! Come out and face me!" She tried to sound commanding, and not let the fear edge its way into her voice.

She was proud of herself when she kept from gasping as a woman appeared before her.

Rather, it seemed as if she appeared from nothing, but Jinxie could just faintly make out the smell of some sort of spell component in the air. Before her, a Mithra swathed from head to toe in black kneeled on the cobblestoned streets. At first she thought it might be Xaerus, but then realized this woman was taller, more muscular, and sported a pair of matching katana blades on either side of her hips. Her eyes were downcast, and she touched her knuckles to the ground as Jinxie nervously leveled her blade down towards her.

"Who are you?" She demanded. "Why are you following me?"

"Forgive me . . . " her voice was near a whisper. "It was not my intent to scare you."

"Answer my questions," Jinxie found the steel in her spine. It was much easier to face down a physical person than the phantoms of her imagination.

Slowly, she lifted her head. Two pale, slanted eyes stared out from beneath a mask of black cloth. "I am your second bodyguard. You met with Captain Sefadin and his assistant earlier a the Shaharat Teahouse. I have been trailing you since that event."

"You? But I thought Krista - "

"Krista is still in training, under the charge of Captain Sefadin. I am the second one chosen to defend you in Caedarva Mire." They remained where they were, Jinxie with her sword forward and the other woman on the ground. "May I rise?" She asked.

"Slowly," Jinxie agreed. "Very slowly."

The Mithra nodded. Then, like a flower unfolding, she gracefully stretched out to face Jinxie, her hands remaining visible at all times. Cautiously, Jinxie lowered her rapier.

"Forgive me, making direct contact with a client is not my usual mode of operation." She kept her hands up, but her voice was steady, and her stance left little doubt that she could attack at any time. "I am employed most often for things which must be carried out . . . discretely."

A black ops Ninja, Jinxie realized. A mercenary hired to do things which those doing the hiring could not associate themselves with publically. "What's your name?" She queried.

"Vaala," she answered simply. "I have no official rank designation, so simply Vaala will do."

"Vaala," Jinxie repeated. Gradually, she eased her sword down completely. When she had been promised the finest soldiers available, never did she imagine one would be a teenager in a man's body and the other an untraceable assassin. "Well then, Vaala," she felt weary from the night's activity. Tomorrow would be a trial that she had to be ready for. She needed sleep, and badly. Her head had scarcely seen a pillow since Drake's kidnapping. "Could you . . . escort me home?"

The Ninja nodded, and began guiding Jinxie through the winding streets of Whitegate. It wasn't long before they arrived back at the apartment afforded her by the Empire. She and Vaala parted ways, with the understanding that they would see each other again when they departed together for Caedarva Mire, on the trail of the Lamiae. Despite her reservations about her profession, Vaala's lithe movements and the practiced ease at which she swiftly and silently moved did much to reassure Jinxie during their walk together.

As she finally fell asleep, the last nagging thought in her mind was the fact that even after they had parted ways, the feeling of being watched had never quite gone away.

Chapter LXXXVI: Loose Ends

In Beaucedine Glacier, the temperature had plummeted beyond mortal endurance. The frozen north, already a wasteland marked by prolonged periods of darkness and endless, driving blizzards, had grown significantly less hospitable as the pall of Dynamis extinguished the sun. Beasts of all sort which roamed the tundra now stayed hidden in their caves, or began slow migrations south. Giant automatons which guarded the entry points to Pso'Xja were frozen over now, sheets of ice covering the man-made golems and holding them stiffly in place. Beaucedine was now home to only one thing which moved freely, unfettered by the cold. Upon the snow drifts, as high as a Gigas's shoulders in some places, the countless legions of demons roamed. Hundreds upon thousands of them, blackening the snow as much as they did the skies. They did not rage against their captivity, nor fight amongst themselves. Millennia of confinement had taught them patience. Their freedom was at hand, and they could wait however long it took.

Also amongst them were the strongest of the beastmen. The Vanguard who stood at the forefront of Dynamis's most elite soldiers resided in Beaucedine. Stronger and fiercer by far than those whom had invaded the Middle Lands, they too bided their time until they could run free across the world of the living. Orc, Quadav, Yagudo, and Goblin alike trudged through the endless snow. Thus the landscape, which stretched out further than the eye could see, was transformed into a frozen hell riddled with fiends. No light or warmth entered Beaucedine Glacier, and any living thing which came upon it would find only death waiting. The dark, gray skin of the Vanguard reflected the environment in which they thrived.

Doshu hovered just above the snow, frigid winds whipping at the Shadow Mantle. In the depths of Beaucedine's darkness, it blended in with his surroundings, making him appear almost invisible. As it billowed, the dark folds crawled over him, alternatingly swallowing parts of his figure in its black embrace. He floated silently forward, bothered not by the cold. Such concerns were well beneath him now. Like a wraith he traveled, moving across the raging snow, unmolested by Kindred or Vanguard. Those few which acknowledged him gave him a wide berth, knowing his destination. None dared to stand in his way as he crested the snow-covered hills. The wind driving past him, the Aht Urghanian floated down a long, narrow ramp of ice. Fei'Yin rose in the horizon.

Doshu halted at the bottom of the ramp to appraise the imposing gray tower. Fei'Yin had stood in Beaucedine Glacier since before the rise of man. Its purpose was a time-lost memory known only to the Zilart, the race which predated the Children of Altana. A few of their kind still walked Vana'diel, but they were few and far between. The spires of Fei'Yin stretched up towards the darkened sky above, eternally reaching for some unknown goal. Doshu let his eyes wander towards the heavens. He knew what Fei'Yin was there for, and he would make use of it soon.

Returning to the matter at hand, he settled down in the snow. It crunched beneath his heel, and immediately swallowed his leg up to the knee. Not feeling the cold, he began trudging forward, cutting a trail which marked his passage. Frigid winds assailed him, but he marched unflinchingly into the darkness enveloping Fei'Yin. He had an appointment to keep.

As he grew closer to the smooth, gray towers of the ancient structure, he felt the oppressive weight of eyes upon him. From the shadows he could see burning, unblinking eyes gazing at him as he passed. Pukis were known only in the darkest lore, stories lost to humanity since the world was young. Yet here in Dynamis's grasp, a few yet remained. Dragons of such power as to dwarf that of the Apocalytpic Beast unleashed in Buburimu, they yet remained locked in the icelands. One day soon he would be able to unleash them. Until then, he merely walked on past. Though their balefully glowing eyes followed him, they did not leave the confines of the darkness in which they dwelled. Even the beasts were aware of Doshu's meeting, and dared not interrupt.

Halting in his tracks, Doshu's dark eyes drfited up the length of Fei'Yin. Even in brighter times, it had been intimidating. A hulking mass of depressing gray which sat in the wide canyon, it emanated an aura of crushing hopelessness. The lair within was a haven for the undead, and their malevolent hunger for the living permeated the air. Now that Dynamis had fully overtaken the area, plunging it into darkness, the Zilartian construct felt almost alive with malice. Though that may have had more to do with its newest inhabitant.

Judging himself to be in the proper position, Doshu dropped down to one knee. His hair fell before his eyes as he lowered his head, staring down at the snow he was sinking into. A swirl of freezing wind brushed past him as he waited. For the first time since entering the glacier, the man in black felt cold rushing through his bones. He shivered openly, his body involuntarily spasming as the heat was drained from it. Ice formed on the fringes of his soul. The wind passed, but the warmth was slow in returning as Doshu crooked his chin upwards. Above the spot where he kneeled, the blackened sky was coming to life.

It started, as it had before, with the smile. A grin of far too many teeth began gleaming in the air as the sound of beating wings began to echo through the canyon. Rows of spiral incisors ending in pointed tips materialized, hovering in place as a thin pair of blackened lips surrounded them. Two enormous bat wings appeared above a long, devilish tail, flapping rhythmically against a mass of gray flesh. Mounds of dark, sagging skin faded into view as stubby limbs surmounted by hooked claws began scratching at the air. Lastly, as it always did, came the eye. One single enormous eye, with an iris deep as the abyss. Mounted in the center of the creature which appeared, it comprised the majority of its body. That hovering, piercing eye emitted a pale amber glow as it focused in on Doshu. Blurred edges around the being solidified, and the man in black stood to face it directly.

"Hello again, Angra Mainyu," he gave a deep bow, flourishing his ebon cape.

Angra Mainyu's single eye gazed intently at Doshu as his wings beat slowly against the freezing air. He was an Ahriman, an ancient creature born of forbidden magic. They existed all across the more treacherous areas of Vana'diel. The cyclopean creatures preyed on weaker magics, cannibalizing other eldritch forces to slake their own diabolical thirst. However, to call Angra Mainyu an Ahriman was to call a dragon an eft. In all the world of dreams Doshu and his cabal had unleashed, nothing more terrifying than Angra Mainyu had poured through the breach.

His one burning gray eye slowly rotated from left to right, wings slowly folding and unfolding around his colorless skin. A mouth full of conical fangs greeted Doshu as Angra Mainyu hovered over him. Facing the beast without fear, he took a step forward and awaited acknowledgement.

"Doshu," the Ahriman's voice was shrill, and echoed upon itself. One word from him sounded like he was shouting into a canyon, the syllables repeating endlessly, running over one another. A breath drew into his elongated mouth, a sound like a distant gale brushing through the Elvaan's ears. "You are alone."

He inclined his head ever so slightly. "The others . . . do not need to know everything."

Angra Mainyu's great, unblinking eye stared at him intently. "They will find you out sooner or later, Doshu. It is a dangerous game you play."

He scoffed, flaring out his cape as he returned the Ahriman's glare. "The Thief already knows, but is smart enough not to challenge me. Attack is too blinded with his own lust for power to so much as look at me the wrong way. And even if Secure knew, I doubt he would care. He's smart enough to keep our goals in sight."

The one-eyed monster's lips curled into a fanged smile. "Are you sure it is not you whom is blinded?"

He clenched his fists defiantly. "My eyes are wide open, Angra Mainyu. My vision is clear."

"So you say," the Ahriman's voice echoed, "Such an assertion is meaningless to one who sees all."

"Precisely why I have come to you," Doshu cut to the point. "My plans are reaching a critical juncture. I must be made aware of any elements which have escaped my notice, any random factors I have overlooked. I have need of your vision, great Angra Mainyu."

"Feh," its smile widened, teeth clenching to form a wall of fangs. "And why should I aid you more than I already have?" In a sudden wave of darkness, the creature vanished. One moment he was there, and the next nothing but a void of black filled the air. Doshu spun around to find him hovering behind him, his grin still clenched. "Your games would be so much fantasy were it not for my aid. The Shadow Mantle and Ring, Annihilator, entry into Dynamis - all made possible by me."

"You have as big a stake in this as we do, Angra Mainyu," Doshu reminded him angrily. "It was you who sought us out, after all."

The widening grin was coupled with a brief peal of laughter. The sound was akin to a swarm of bats bursting forth from a cave. "Did I truly? Or did your journey simply lead you to me?" There was another blossoming of darkness, and his form was erased from Doshu's sight. Immediately the Ranger looked up, feeling the wind beat down on him as Angra Mainyu appeared high in the air. "There are still prizes to be won in this great game," he mused, turning his single eye down piercingly at the Elvaan. Gradually, he began to descend. Before long man and monster stood face-to-face, and the Ahriman's gleaming gray eye stared into Doshu's heart. "And as you know, we will all assuredly die should we fail."

Doshu's own eyes were frigid. "Do you not think the reward worth the risk?"

A hiss came from Angra Mainyu's lips as they curled back. "I do not think you even fathom what is at stake, or will know what to do once you have it." Doshu's angry retort was cut off by another squeal of laughter. "Still yourself. I will tell you what I see."

He had known all along, of course, that Angra Mainyu would. His taunts never ceased to grow frustrating, however. Having to constantly cajole the use of his vision out of him was becoming tiring. For now, the Ahriman was far too powerful for Doshu to even consider tearing down. That situation would change, though, if he just held his patience.

"Thank you, Angra Mainyu," he managed to sound convincing. "I am grateful for your aid, as always."

The ancient terror did not respond. His eye was already fixed on the distance. "So many yet dream," he grumbled, smile waning. "So many still fight the nightmare." A flap of gray skin stretched upwards, hooding his gaze as he began slowly floating above Doshu's head. His shadow fell upon the Elvaan, and a chill which the freezing winds of Beaucedine had not been able to give him ran through his bones.

"The Samurai's Son rushes to the east to join his companions. Bahamut's Servant waits outside the Dragon King's Tomb, seeking to rouse that which lays within. A Stalwart Shield travels north from Heaven's Tower to separate the White and Red. The King of Onzozo will return to reclaim his throne. The Shining Knight is in the desert sands, where he will battle the endless horde. And in the south, the Favoured One will enter the Temple of the Heartless God." Angra Mainyu's eye slid open. He peered down at Doshu with an expression far more serious than before. "All of these elements will conspire to threaten your master plan. They must be dealth with." A moment of silence passed as the Ahriman slowly beat his wings. "The Four Winds are still active."

"Neutralized," Doshu dismissed. "They dare not use their powers while apart from one another or we will find and kill them in an instant."

"Perhaps," his shrill voice was distant. "Should they reunite everything is in jeopardy."

"Then they will not," the Elvaan's tone darkened. "Thank you, Angra Mainyu. That was everything I needed to know."

That piercing eye settled on Doshu one last time, lips curling back slightly again. "Good luck then, mortal. Your siege of the Yagudo stronghold will yield many surprises for you."

"Will I succeed?"

Angra Mainyu turned his gaze to the distance once more, but only briefly. Within moments he returned his eye to meet Doshu's inquisitive stare.

"Yes," he answered.

"Then let surprises come as they may." Clutching the folds of the Shadow Mantle, he drew it tightly about himself. "Next time, I will bring the others, so as to alleviate their fears. I will pretend this meeting never happened."

Angra Mainyu laughed once again. "Games within games. I think I shall be sad when our ultimate goal is attained. It will mean the fun leading up to it has ended."

"I doubt, great Angra Mainyu," Doshu replied, "that there will be anything for us to be sad about after we have won."

"True enough," he laughed, "true enough indeed. Farewell for now, mortal."

"Farewell," Doshu echoed. A moment later, both were gone. The freezing winds of Beaucedine Glacier blew sheets of ice over where he had stood, and within moments there was no trace they had been there at all.


No one save a few prowling demons were in Jeuno when Doshu returned. Most of the forces which had taken Jeuno were already on the move. Castle Oztroja was as powerful a fortress as existed in the Middle Lands, but it would fall. In a way, he admired these westerners plight as they banded together with beastmen in their mutual bid for survival. He had made alliances of his own, however, and very strongly doubted his own army would even come into play. He did not get where he was by taking chances, though. Oztroja would meet with all the crushing power he could bring to bear.

"Now these random factors in my equation," Doshu mumbled, ascending the steps towards the Ducal throne, "they must be dealt with."

The King of Onzozo would be easy enough. If he were indeed making a bid to reclaim his lost caves, the outcome was simple to predict. Still, he would send a bit of insurance along to guarantee the Beastmaster was neutralized. He did not know this Favoured One Angra Mainyu spoke of, but he recognized the destination as the Temple of Uggalepih. That one troubled him. Ultimately, he decided it would be best to use his eyes and ears in the jungles of Yuhtunga to determine how best to proceed. The Shining Knight was already as good as dead if he were truly planning to fight with the Anticans. Bahamut's Servant he had no choice but to let operate freely, but a trap had to be laid in place for after his task was complete.

Then there were the other two he had been warned of. The Samurai's Son and the Stalwart Shield.

"Attack," Doshu called into his linkpearl, raising it to his lips.

There was no response for a long moment. The wizard was still recuperating from his battle with Vile. The revelation that a sorcerer of Vile-Revile's might had survived and stood against them was a nuisance, but little more than that. Finally, the trail end of a coughing spell split the silence, and the Tarutaru's voice rang from the pearl in Doshu's hand.

"What do you want?" he demanded. "I am deep in meditation."

"And I apologize for disturbing you," he placated, "but I have need of your guardian. Will you send him here?"

"Fine," came the snarling response. "but I must concentrate."

"Of course," Doshu said, leaning back in the throne of Jeuno. "I shall be in the throne room. Have him meet me there."

He let his linkpearl drop down. Pyramiding his fingers, he scanned the room with his dark eyes. Attacks's bodyguard would do for the Stalwart Shield. That left one more.

"Come to me, my Dark Hand," he called to the empty hall.

The stillness of the chamber was broken by a fierce rush of motion. Seemingly from nowhere, a form materialized at the bottom of the steps before Doshu's throne. Draped in a light armor blood red in color and wrapped in black cloth, a man appeared, kneeled in the Elvaan's presence. His face was wrapped up tightly in a traditional Ninja's mask, and only his blazing red eyes were visible.

"Yes, Lord Doshu," the Ninja responded, keeping his gaze downcast.

"Rise, servant," he intoned, opening the folds of his cloak. "I have a gift for you."

The Ninja stood straight, fists clenched as he looked up the steps towards the throne. Doshu rose as well, withdrawing a slim blade from the Shadow Mantle. It glinted in the dim light as a wave of force suddenly sent a tremor through the room.

"You know we hold four prisoners, bound to the Mothercrystals in preparation for our final rite."

The Ninja nodded. "I was among those who removed them from Attohwa Chasm."

Doshu held out his fist. In his grasp was a katana, the blade bright and blue. It pulsated in his hand, and the Ninja's eyes widened at the sight of it. "Recently, we discovered one of them was hiding this. I have a task for you, and it."

"I live to serve you, Lord Doshu." he said mechanically. Doshu acknowledged the statement with a nod of his head. It was true, ater all.

"Then I bestow upon you Kikoku, my Dark Hand. Find the man called Demyn and use its power to kill him."

The Dark Hand took the weapon in his grasp. He shuddered at its touch, and tendrils of a bluish smoke rose from his hand as Kikoku bonded to him. The relic katana had been an unexpected discovery, but a providence Doshu was not about to let go to waste. The Ninja's eyes brightened, red beacons in the dimly lit hall.

"With this, no one will be safe from your Dark Hand," he assured.

"Go," Doshu commanded, "return here when Demyn breathes no more." With that dismissal, he returned to the throne. By the time he turned around, his Ninja was gone.

Almost simultaneously, the great brass door to the chamber swung open, and a massive shadow spread across the thin shaft of light it allowed.

"Ah, you're here," he welcomed, gesturing Attack's bodyguard to enter. "I hope you're ready for an assignment."

The Galka, as big as some of the Trolls Doshu was used to seeing and sporting even thicker armor, cracked the marble floor as he lumbered forward. His sausage-thick fingers clenched and unclenched as he walked, dull eyes staring up at the Elvaan with what limited facilities he possessed. At least, Doshu thought, relieved, his rank odor was gone. Cooped up with him as he healed must have been too much for even Attack, as he knew the Galka would only bathe when ordered.

Still, some operations required a scalpel. For that he had his Dark Hand. Others needed a sledgehammer.

"I been stuck in that room so long now," the Galka rumbled, "feels like I just face the wall all day. I wanna kill somethin'."

"Good," Doshu couldn't help but grin. This was the best kind of sledgehammer. The kind which was perfect for what it did, and never aspired to do anything else. "I need you to succeed where Secure has failed, Bloodied Sword."

"I'm gonna destroy Winnurst?" he asked, rubbing a hand over his shaved head.

Doshu shook his head. "No, we'll have to go back there some other time. I need you to kill just one man. His name is Meowolf."

"Stalwart Shield," Bloodied Sword snarled, lips curling downward. "Figgers he'd still be kickin'. Well I'll put him underground, boss. Just point me in the right direction."

"I knew I could count on you. Don't forget your shield."

He chuckled, a surprisingly childlike sound. "Never do, boss. Oh, and no more Bloodied Sword."

"Oh?" Doshu cocked an eyebrow.

"Way I figger it, that's a Bastokan name, an' there ain't no Bastok no more. No point in usi' a dead name, right?"

The Elvaan laughed briefly. From the mouths of fools, he thought. "Very true. So then, is it Dracu?"

He flashed Doshu a nod and a hauntingly terrifying grin. "Dracu it is."

"Then go with my blessing, Dracu. Bring me back Meowolf's shield."

"I'm gonna use it as a platter boss. I'll serve you up his whole head."

Dracu delivered a clumsy bow, and turned to leave. Doshu watched Attack's bodyguard go, content that all his loose ends would soon be tied off.

So the Elvaan sat alone on the throne of Jeuno, contemplating the dark future of Vana'diel as his hordes marched inexorably closer to their goal.

He would sleep well tonight. Come tomorrow, he would watch the fall of Castle Oztroja. And his dream would be that much closer to becoming real.