Chapter LII: The Ocean Says Yes

The flight from Ifrit’s Cauldron was a blur, literally. Once Tomiko convinced Tikinas that her tan-scaled monster was no threat, the creature had leaped into the air and then streaked almost straight down. Once the wyvern Vouivre took wing, it took but moments for the Ninja to be deposited at the base of the volcano, over a mile below. With the volcano pouring clouds of ash into the sky, it felt like hours.

“Vouivre won’t leave its home,” the Dragoon informed Tikinas when they reached the outskirts of the Cauldron. “I can’t fly you any further.”

“That’s a pity,” she said disingenuously, more than happy to be off of the wyvern. Tikinas admitted to herself that the big-eyed liquid gaze of Tomiko’s own wyvern, Muffin, was a little endearing. This glimpse at what a monster it would grow to be, however, was honestly terrifying. Its teeth were like daggers. Is scales were harder than iron and hot to the touch. Tomiko might have endorsed the hulking Vouivre as harmless, but Tikinas did not have nor want the kind of bond with the creatures the Dragoon had. In any case, she had more important things to worry about.

In a flash, she was off, the ground a featureless blur beneath her feet. Ifrit’s Cauldron was rumbling behind her, and she tried to ignore the pieces of blackened rock falling around her. Don’t think about Ayn being inside the volcano that could erupt at any moment, she told herself. Don’t think about the panic that had to be sweeping through Kazham, her own hometown. Don’t think about the people of Norg being swept under by a tide of magma. Don’t think about Elshimo itself breaking into pieces. She focused entirely on moving forward, on completing the mission.

Around her, the Yhoator jungle thickened with each bound and leap she took. The environment only sped her along. Others might have struggled with the terrain, their progress hampered by the twisting paths. The towering trees, so numerous their foliage blotted out the sun, laid their twisting roots across every inch of the jungle. The underbrush was thicker still, much of the jungle still unexplored simply because it was deemed inaccessible. This was to say nothing of the Coeurls that slinked through the trees, waiting for unwary prey. Goblin hunting parties often wandered near the volcano as well, residents of the village they had seen inside. Some of the plants were deadly to touch or ingest, the monsters took a more active approach to killing people. An average traveler could take days to safely traverse the dense jungle.

To Tikinas, trained in the art of the Ninja practically from birth, nothing was an obstacle. The leaves on the trees she bounded off of barely rustled with her passing. Her legs pumped ceaselessly. Each step propelled her deeper and deeper into Yhoator, the terrain itself a propellant. Her pace ate up the ground at an impossible rate. Nothing that even saw her long enough to realize something was there had time to figure out what it was they had seen. More often than not, she was a black-and-white streak, her hair blowing out behind her as she ran. Nothing could possibly keep pace with her. She was moving too fast for anything to catch up with her.

It surprised even her when she halted after landing on a particularly thick branch and spun directly around. A row of thin needles lined her grasp, and her eyes searched the jungle intently. She knew someone was following her. She could feel it in her bones, and every sense she possessed was telling her that there was something behind her. When her ears caught the limbs she bounded from snapping back into place, she knew it was a second too late. She knew the brush closed behind her just a moment too slowly. Someone was mimicking her path, taking every step she did. Yet there was nothing behind her. Nothing stirred, not even the faintest breeze in the air. All about her was only stillness.

She held her position, legs balanced precariously on the branch she stood on. Below her, leaves rustled, and she immediately turned to face the source of the disturbance. The noise grew louder, branches snapping in the tree directly beneath the Ninja. Breathlessly, she drew back her fist, prepared to unleash her deadly payload. For a long moment she held steady, unblinking. Something came through the underbrush, and like a whip cracking her arm flashed, and she barely halted herself from unleashing a spray of projectiles into an opo-opo, which peered at her with bulbous eyes through the leaves. It crunched down on a branch it held in one hand, chewing the bark as it looked up at the ninja perched over it. With an exasperated grunt, Tikinas sheathed her weapons. In the distance, Ifrit’s Cauldron rumbled.

The jungle was a green-and-brown blur beneath her feet. The tree line abruptly cut off, and she soared through the air, springing from a tree towards her destination. She hit the ground running, the topography of Yhoator racing through her mind. Tikinas knew she wasn’t far away from where she needed to be now. She had been raised in these jungles, fighting Goblins, running missions to outposts, evading the dreaded Morbols. She doubted even the Onion Samurai, one of Kazham’s urban legends, knew more about the island than she did. This was her home. The realization that the place where she had grown up was now her responsibility to protect raced through her mind. Gritting her teeth, she pushed past the pain she had suffered at the hands of Duke Berith and made her legs move faster. She was close by something that would speed her journey even further.

Tracks on the ground that looked like roots being pulled from the earth told her she was where she wanted to be. With a running leap, she took to the air again. Her feet grazed the side of a moss-covered rock, giving her the surface she needed to spring off of. For a long moment she soared, unclaimed by gravity, and then landed atop her target; the Treant that wandered Yhoator jungle. Old as the jungle itself, the monster was often called the Woodland Sage, as it had borne witness to everything that had ever transpired on Elshimo. As soon as she landed, the plant-like creature gave a startled snort. Violently, it shook its branches, but Tikinas clutched on to the monster. Understandably, it grew quite upset at having a Ninja clutching on to its head.

With a tremendous heave, the Woodland Sage threw Tikinas loose. First bending backwards, it then catapulted forward and sent the thin frame of the Mithra flying. It was something she had wanted to try ever since her instructor had her observe the Sage without being detected for three days straight. There was no time like the present. The incredible momentum with which the Treant hurled her threw Tikinas forward like a dart. Faster than even she could run, she cleared ground at an incredible pace, the Woodland Sage a fading dot behind her.

Tucking herself into a ball, she let her momentum bring her down. She rolled with the impact and sprang back up instantly, not hesitating as she entered the cave mouth before her. She had reached the Den of Rancor.


“Gnnnnn,” let out Klistel, sweat soaking his forehead. The ethereal form of Ifrit enveloping the crystal hunched over, its eyes gleaming like suns. Slowly, another crack which had formed in the crystal began to fuse itself together. Shattered pieces became whole, but it caused a reaction that sent a sound like glass splintering through the Cloister of Flames.

Ayn almost cringed at the sound. Everything going on around him unnerved him. Watching a Summoner and a raging fire monster attempting to piece back together a gigantic magic crystal had not been a part of what he agreed to. Especially since the Summoner had already told him that even if they were successful, the live volcano they were in was going to explode with them in it. Everything came down to the one person in the world he could count on. In a situation like this, though, he wondered if even Tikinas could come through.

“Menphis?” the Thief asked, and the Ranger shook his head in response.

“She’s too far away,” he replied, leaning back with arms folded against the wall. He looked so unflustered at the entire situation that Ayn wanted to slice him down the middle. “I can’t tell you anything.”

The Thief was too worried to even comment on that. Tikinas was the only one of them now not in Ifrit’s Cauldron, but for the danger she was placing herself in at the Den of Rancor, it was small comfort indeed. That dreadful abyss was as much a deathtrap as the volcano.

His concentration on Tikinas was broken when Klistel gave another strained cry. A thin crack started reforming itself, and Ifrit gave a voiceless snarl as its shape lost cohesiveness. It was clear that the loss of the Protocrystal of Fire would mean much more than just the destruction of Elshimo. Klistel’s muscles went taut beneath his robes, and the newest fault sealed itself over again. The Avatar of Fire became clear once more, refocusing its efforts double on the task before it. For man and spirit alike, it was a matter of self-preservation.

Time ticked away in the Cloister of Flames as outside, Ifrit’s Cauldron rumbled ever louder.


Eyes always unblinking, pace a steady, measured shuffle, lantern swinging on a measured rhythm, the Tonberry came forward. The knife in its tiny fist was dulled, spotted with what was either rust or positively ancient blood. Part of the blade was chipped, and as the green-skinned creature walked, it scraped at times against the rocky ground to produce a profoundly disturbing sound. It said nothing even as another Tonberry passed by it, both dressed in the same tattered sackcloth clothes tied with rope belts. In one hand they held their knives, the other an outstretched lantern. In this fashion they had patrolled the Den of Rancor as long as anyone could remember. The Tonberries, the most malignant and ruthlessly deadly of all the Beastmen to walk Vana’diel, called this place their home. It truly suited them.

The Den of Rancor stretched out for miles. All of it completely underground, there was seemingly no end to the twists and turns of the subterranean tunnels. Here and there some monsters roamed; a small clutch of lizards, the revolting Hecteyes, even the odd Pugil, making their aquatic home in the shallow pools which stagnated in the caves. It was the Tonberries, though, who held uncontested control of the area. Hardly an inch of the space was actually dark, despite being well hidden from the sun. At regular intervals, lanterns like the ones the deep green Beastmen held had been attached to the walls, giving off a pale, flickering glow to see by. Those flames, as far as anyone had ever observed, never extinguished. It had been said the Tonberries filled their lanterns with the souls of their victims, trapping them for eternity within their tiny glass prison.

The two Tonberries passed by one another, continuing along their respective paths. The cavern remained still as they both shuffled down connecting tunnels, leaving the open space behind. A moment later, Tikinas dropped down from the ceiling, quickly spinning from side to side on the balls of her feet. Confident she had not been noticed, she continued moving forward. Her pace infuriated her compared to the flight through the jungle. It felt like she was moving at a crawl having to navigate the twisting corridors and avoid being seen by the murderous Tonberries. The tuning fork Klistel had given her was pulsating now against the pocket in her waist, pulling her onwards. Whatever its purpose, it was clear that it had a propensity towards wanting to fulfill it.

The Mithra slid carefully along the wall into another open space. More Tonberries roamed throughout, a dozen or more slowly pacing back and forth. Slinking forward, Tikinas removed a vial from a tiny pouch in the lining of her vest. One hand flashing through a series of motions, she released a tiny trickle of chi into it, crunching it in her fist. A hazy powder flew out of it, covering her with a prismatic dust. She faded from view like a mirage in the desert. The tuning fork in her pocket tugged harder. She had to be close now.

Carefully, she began crossing the distance of the room. The Tonberries made no indication of noticing her. She had no time to wait for them to pace away or try and sneak by. The powder forming a light-bending cloud around her was her best option as she saw it. Footfalls soundless, she cut a straight line through the broad cavern, slipping easily through the beastmen. They gave no indication of seeing her as she ghosted by, gnarled, bare feet continuing their endless walk. She reached the other side of the open space without incident, the tuning fork in her belt guiding her implacably onwards. Knowing she was getting close, Tikinas rounded the corner.

Straight into the all-seeing gaze of a Hecteyes.

The monstrous thing was fully as tall as the Mithra herself. An animated mass of what looked like sloughing, decaying flesh, covered completely with bright yellow eyes. A revolting, horrendous creature, and every one of those bulging, serpentine eyes fixed directly on where Tikinas was standing. There were Tonberry still everywhere behind her. For a moment, she held her breath, praying that somehow her invisibility had kept her hidden.

A guttural bleating rose from the Hecteyes as it shattered Tikinas’s hopes. Tendrils of a fetid ooze shot out of its very body, striking at her in bestial anger. It had no reason to attack her, but like everything in the Den of Rancor, it needed none. Simply being within the heart of the Tonberry lair filled every creature that entered with malice. The Hecteyes’ attack missed her by inches, and she arched backwards to avoid the strike. At the same time, a bag of powder flew from her grasp, striking the monster and exploding on impact into cloud. Tikinas released her chi through the correlating hand sign, and the concoction immediately became as black as night. The Hecteyes was blinded, and began lashing out recklessly, furiously trying to strike Tikinas down. The Mithra somersaulted away, landing with both katana drawn.

The rattle she heard was like a child’s laugh filled with some indescribable darkness. A chill shot down her spine, nearly paralyzing her just from its touch. Before she even turned her head she knew that the Tonberries knew she was there.

Tikinas was no fool. She did not stop to confront the beastmen or see how many there were. She only ran, as fast as she could, speeding down the endless corridors of the Den of Rancor with abandon. The tuning fork pulled her left, and she followed without question. The rattle sounded again, making her bones quiver, urging her to beg more speed out of the burning muscles in her legs. It couldn’t have been closer than before. It was just her imagination, or these damn caves echoing, she told herself. They just couldn’t be closer than before.

The tuning fork abruptly leaped in her belt, then started pulling her towards the ground. The sudden direction shift stunned her enough to give her pause. As she skidded to a halt, her eyes involuntarily turned to the side. They were right behind her. Not running, not even really walking quickly on their stunted limbs, the yellow-eyed Tonberries were practically on top of her. Another rattle sounded, and fear clutched at her as lantern light glinted off of dull and rusty knives held in gnarled hands. They were shuffling towards her, inescapable and implacable. Their blades were extended as they slowly marched towards the Ninja. The walls seemed to be closing in around her. The rattle sounded again, louder and faster, and for a moment it seemed her feet were stuck to the floor.

With a shout of defiance, Tikinas threw down her arms. A hail of powder flew from her sleeves, and she ignited it with a concentrated burst of chi. The tunnel was instantly filled with the same blinding powder she had used on the Hecteyes. Tikinas flew out of the thick cloud, skidding to a halt as wisps of it trailed off of her. Her breath hissed between pointed teeth as she saw unblinking yellow eyes, still visible through the impenetrable fog.

The ninja took off without hesitation. A Tonberry emerged with its knife scraping against the wall, blood-colored sparks shooting from the stone upon contact. In the dim light which permeated the Den of Rancor, Tikinas spotted a hole in the floor. The tuning fork urged her towards it, and she wasted no time getting there. She pushed off with one leg, sailing into the air as she unleashed a deadly spray of shuriken blindly behind her. With an aerial flip, she dove into the darker, deeper section of the cave, landing on her feet below. The item Klistel had given her was practically tearing through her pocket now, and she turned to see a long, dark tunnel ahead of her. At the end of it, a softly-glowing blue light gently shone.

Just in front of it, however, were four more Tonberries.

The Ninja put up her katana in desperation as they came forward. The rattling was everywhere it seemed. She turned and impossibly realized that the Tonberries she had left above were standing perched over the crevasse she had dropped down. One of them took a step forward into the abyss, and dropped straight down, landing on its feet as if the precipitous descent was but a normal step. Knives were scraping stone all around her. One of the Tonberries in front of the tunnel took a slow step forward, and Tikinas realized that the lantern it was holding was empty, with the flame door hanging open and pointing towards her.


“We must escape!” Greyheart insisted as the cavern rumbled around them. Geysers of flame had begun to shoot up through cracks forming in the ground. The Red Mage cried out as he was singed by a white-hot rock shooting through the air, leaving a blister where it struck his wrist. “This whole volcano is about to go!”

“We’ve nowhere to run,” Menphis told him, the youth standing straight despite the continuous shaking. “You shouldn’t waste your breath.”

“How can you be so damn calm about this?” Ayn demanded. The Thief was intently focused on Klistel, the spiritual manifestation of Ifrit now almost solid before him. The Protocrystal of Flame was nearly repaired, and yet the chain reaction its near destruction had set off now seemed inevitable. The Summoner was hunched over, shoulders drooping as he gasped for air. The energy he was expelling threatened to claim his own life. Ifrit gave a roar without sound, yet the intensity of it still struck Ayn on a level far beyond the physical.

“Because I know,” the Ranger replied, watching the events transpire, the intensity of his expression magnified by the red light upon it, “that no matter what, I will not die until I have my revenge.”

Ayn stared at him briefly, then turned away with an exasperated breath. He should have gone with her, he told himself. He should have gone with her.

“I can’t . . . keep this up . . . “ Klistel spat out between breaths, and Ifrit’s Cauldron growled. The Elvaan’s mouth hung open mutely, and his face looked withered with exhaustion. Time had almost run out.


Tikinas hacked with measured precision at the Tonberries coming near her. Each slash touched nothing, as no matter how close they seemed, as soon as she attacked they were once again beyond her reach. She was keeping them at bay, but there were so many, and she was so tired. She saw a knife glint in the air behind her, and she realized her time had run out.

The series of explosions which rocked the cavern were deafening. She instinctively clutched her hands to her ears as shattered stone erupted around her, spraying across the room. The Tonberries turned as one, all eyes shifting left and then right, and TIkinas caught the sight of a blur moving across the far wall. A wall of flame surrounded her, and the Tonberry beside her stepped back, engulfed. It stood there, burning, eyes never moving from Tikinas as it waited for the flames to die down. Its knife never lowered.

The streak of motion suddenly took shape, and Tikinas gasped at the Ninja whose feet touched down, Tonberries now solidly focused on him.

“This is not what I signed on for,” the Ninja lamented, a serrated katana clutched tightly in front of him.

“You’re – ! “ she exclaimed.

“No time,” he admonished, dark eyes darting over a dozen Tonberry faces. “Get going, now. I can’t hold them off.”

She froze for only an instant before turning to see the tunnel to the Cloister of Tides stretching out beyond her, the path clear.

With the briefest bow of acknowledgment, she was off.


Zealot staggered back with a surprised shout as a vein of magma burst, lava spilling into the Cloister of Flames. The entire mountain was heaving, and an acrid smoke had begun to fill the air. Ayn was clutching to a rock face now to simply stand up straight, even as fragments of molten rock splashed across the ground at his feet. Klistel was on his knees, a hand raised weakly in the air as Ifrit struggled visibly in the air over him.

The rumbling suddenly became a furious quake, and a fresh spew of lava burst from the ground. Ayn slid down, unable to keep his grip, as even Menphis sunk to one knee.

“This is it,” Klistel said out loud, and flash of heat and sound that overtook them put the truth to his words.


Tikinas dashed forward, tearing the tuning fork from her pouch. With a frantic dive, she cleared the distance from the cavern mouth to the Protocrystal of Water. The fork seemed to be carrying her through the air now, and an audible shout escaped her as she clutched it towards the enormous, glittering blue gem.

The surface of the Protocrystal rippled like a pond with a stone thrown into it as Tikinas made contact. She sank down immediately, plunging into the clear, cool water which flooded the Cloister of Tides. She sank into it, an amazing sensation sweeping through her. With a gasp, she sat straight up, splashing and struggling to stand again. She caught sight of the surface of the crystal, and stopped immediately. Her eyes were like dinner plates as she watched the Protocrystal. She didn’t even notice the water rising up around her, obeying the call of its master.


Klistel’s outstretched hand clenched into a taut fist.

His other palm slapped against the floor, flesh hissing as it made contact with the sizzling hot stone. Everything was being super heated by the lava rolling in around them. There was barley a safe place to stand. All at once, however, the Summoner rose. As Ayn watched in disbelief, a visible aura flared out from the man who had appeared on the verge of death a moment earlier. The flames surrounding him dispelled, brushed away by a cleansing energy that washed over the Rogue and the entire room as well. Steam began billowing from the ground as the temperature in the room dropped, and Ayn felt like he had just taken a swim through pure spring water.

The visage of Ifrit suddenly became solid. The lava retreated further, obeying the will of the Avatar of Fire. Ifrit looked up, eyes gleaming, and let out a roar that Ayn definitely felt physically. He thought his eardrums might burst as it shook the Cloister of Flames, a match for the rumbling volcano itself.

What was even more amazing was that Ayn heard another voice call out in response.


The true form of Leviathan, Avatar of Water, burst from the ocean surrounding Elshimo. Heeding the desperate call of Ifrit, guided by Klistel, the water dragon emerged in all his terrible power. Blue scales rippled and glittered like the sea itself, stretching onwards forever as his enormous body coiled around itself. The serpentine Avatar let out a screech, and immediately dozens of waterspouts, miles high, surged up around the island. They danced around Leviathan, its fishlike fins stretching outwards to command them. The Avatar straightened, reaching so high as to blot out the sun, and gave another shriek. Guided by its will, the wall of water spiraled together, and surged across the island in one tremendous torrent.

Ifrit’s Cauldron erupted. Ash and lava were belched into the air, forming a dark cloud that multiplied in size by the second, threatening to blanket Elshimo even as fault lines began collapsing inwards all around it. It was cataclysmic. It was a disaster the likes of which had never been seen on the tiny island, nor would again. It lasted roughly six seconds.

As Ifrit commanded the flow of magma down to its source, billions of gallons of water suddenly surged through the mountain. Monsters were swept away, geysers of flame extinguished. The Goblin village experienced the first and only rain it would ever know. Foreseer Oramix held a hand in the air, feeling precipitation leaking down from the caverns above, and looked out around at his fellow Goblins. Not a single one of them was moving. They had no idea what to do.

Ayn coughed as steam too thick to see through filled the Cloister of Flames. He reached blindly forward, and then clutched onto something that felt human. Pulling it closer to him, he saw the face of Klistel emerge. The Elvaan’s hair was matted to his head, and though he barely looked conscious, there was a smile on his face.

“What did you do?” He asked the Summoner.

“There was a . . . plea,” he explained, “embedded in the tuning fork. Tikinas succeeded. We asked the ocean to help.”

“I guess the ocean says yes,” Ayn observed, trying without success to make out his surroundings. Even the Protocrystal of Fire was enveloped in the mist filling the room. Something brushed past him, and he caught a glimpse of something green walking by.

“I told you,” Menphis said, grabbing hold of the ledge and pulling himself up to burst from the steam cloud. Without changing expression once, the Ranger began climbing upwards, out the way they had came.

“The paths Berith sealed off should be open again now,” Klistel realized. “We can go out the easy way. Hey,” he called after Menphis, but Ayn stopped him.

“No,” the Thief said, brushing the steam away as best he could, “let’s let him figure that out.”


Tikinas didn’t know when she came back to her senses, but when she did, the scent of grass filled her nose.

Tearing herself up off the ground, she looked around in amazement. The sun was a fading red marble in the horizion. Ifrit’s Cauldron was belting out harmless steam in the distance, and there wasn’t a single tremor shaking the ground. She was outside, the Den of Rancor a distant blot of darkness. She had no memory of leaving the Cloister of Tides, nor even losing consciousness.

Her hand flinched with surprise as her fingers scraped something in the air. She realized there was a note tied around her wrist.

“Our Little Secret,” it read, spelled out in an easily decipherable Ninja code. The signature on it was also unmistakable.

At the sound of footsteps approaching, she crumpled it in her hand, spinning to face whoever approached her. Then she was spun herself as Ayn lifted her into the air, and when he let her down they came into an extended embrace. She noticed Klistel, Tomiko, Zealot, and Greyheart in the distance, each one trying to discretely look away. She didn’t have time to worry about where Menphis was before the questions began for both sides, and didn’t stop even as the sun set and they trekked the long distance back to Norg.


”Looks like we came out of this one after all,” President commented, staring out into the distance.

Argentina came to his side, leaning her head against his shoulder. The perch they shared overlooked most of the island, and not hours before, it had been the sight of something indescribable. Whatever the cause or outcome, all they knew was that for the moment, Elshimo was safe.

“I knew my boy could do it,” the pirate king said with an unrestrained smile. “’E ain’t let me down yet.”

“And all by himself, no doubt,” Argentina replied with a completely straight face. “Well, maybe Tikinas helped.”

“We’re in interestin’ times, Argentina,” he remarked, stretching out his arms around her. He gave out a deep chuckle, and the Charybdis’s first mate raised her head to see what her captain was looking at.

Hiking through the woods far below, crossing the hidden paths to reach Norg through Sea Serpent Grotto, she could clearly make out a small band of people. They were too far to make out from the distance and in the fading light, but there was no doubt who they were. President removed his arm, turning to the stiff wooden steps leading up to the perch and heading back down into the hidden village below.

“Going to meet them at the gate?” Argentina inquired.

President gave another laugh. “’Course not, lass. I’m gonna make them come t’ Gilgamesh’s office an’ give an official report, all intimidating-like. We can’t let th’ lad get a swelled head just yet.”

Argentina smirked as they both descended back towards Norg. President was right, after all. With everything going on in the world, Ayn had just bought them time and safety they had desperately needed.

And now his work was really about to begin.