Chapter LVI: The Dragoon in Hell

Aboroth could still remember better times.

Amongst the walking dead filling the caverns of hell, he knew he was unique in that aspect. His memories still held ground in the vast expanse of desolation the depths had become. While the others moved with the clunky, awkward movements of those held aloft only by the strings pushing their minds forward, he still had the presence of mind to recall what life had been like before coming here. Before Devul, before the demons, before the Mithra who had stolen their identities, Aboroth had been someone else.

He remembered growing up with his younger brother in Windurst. He could still see the verdant trees and lush greenery which filled the city, and the rolling hills of Sarutabaruta where he had spent a youth in curious exploration of the vast landscape. He could hear the pealing laughter of his younger brother as they wiled away the days, exploring the wonders of the open grassland, delving into the ancient ruins, or simply enjoying the music during Windurst’s Summer Festival. Even when he had gone away, bidding farewell to his friends and family to pursue a holy life in the Far East, he had kept those memories in every dream and fond fantasy.

It was during his time in the monastery when, during daily hymns, the head Monk of the temple realized his true gift, and helped him draw it forth. Aboroth’s voice was one naturally gifted in the use of the spellsong. Through the years he spent honing his body, the Monks also taught him to focus his voice and the power held within. He knew that his younger brother possessed natural gifts with magic, but he never would have guessed similar ability had been passed down to him. The Galka earnestly learned all he could, the kindly Monks happy to have such an eager pupil. After spending nearly a decade abroad, now firm of mind and body, Aboroth returned home. His welcome was among the best memories of his life. Truly, he had been blessed.

Scarcely two weeks had passed before a messenger arrived at the modest home of his family. Some minor San d’Orian nobleman, having heard of the amazing voice of this Galka from Windurst, sought to have Aboroth perform some Far Eastern music at a gathering of aristocrats. The Galka was still a Monk above all, and sworn to a vow of poverty, but the gil being offered would be a great boon for his family, and the continued studies of his little brother. With those thoughts in mind, Aboroth bid his family another temporary farewell and boared an airship bound for Jeuno. He had plenty of time to reach San d’Oria, and planned to enjoy the natural surroundings of Jugner Forest by riding a chocobo out from Jeuno to the Elvaan capital.

Then came the darkness, the wind, and the blood rage. The ground opened beneath him, engulfing him in a tomb’s embrace. He came into the presence of the Devul, and the scarred Mithra. His happy memories became a torment as it was made clear the life he used to live was over. The spellsong which once brought peace and tranquility to others had been twisted to hideous ends.

Now when he sang, it was to perpetuate the horror he had been drawn in to.

He had tried to fight it, at first. His mind was too strong for him to become another slave like the thoughtless drones the Mithra demanded. While he remained conscious of his actions and surroundings, he could still not overpower the force of the whisper in his thoughts. When it spoke, he responded. He simply couldn’t help himself. So Aboroth sang, and the people ensnared in the bowels of hell listened to what he said. Amplified by the dark power controlling his own actions, his voice now bade others to sleep, to work, and to obey. His was the voice that controlled the free will of those in Devul’s realm, and there was nothing he could do to stop himself.

Just as now, he could not keep his feet from marching one in front of the other as the procession behind him carried Shaohuan to her execution.

Work around them had ceased as those entranced by his call shuffled from their stations to bear witness. The dais bearing Devul once again crept by, borne on the scarred shoulders of a cadre of slaves. The Tarutaru sat indolently atop his throne, seemingly oblivious to the lavish attention being given him by the girls of his harem, they themselves completely detached from their own actions. Of all the hundreds of damned lurking through the endless caverns, only one was in control of both mind and body. That one stood behind Devul’s throne, mutilated body hidden within the shadowy confines of her sickly green cloak. Even through the darkness around them and the thick folds of her garment, Aboroth could still see the glint of her smile.

Beneath her feet, hands shackled before her, dressed in only the filthiest rags, Shaohuan sat with head bowed. Aboroth knew Shaohuan was also one in control of her own thoughts, but not actions. Unlike him, she had not undergone years of rigorous training to achieve enlightened focus. She had no special predisposition that would explain her being spared the fate Aboroth suffered. There was no reason at all she should not be another thoughtless slave like the others. The Monk knew the explanation. Shaohuan remained aware because the Mithra wanted her to suffer. Whatever reasons she had for that cruel twist, Aboroth did not know.

He considered it a blessing at this point that her life was about to end. It would not be much longer until her torment came to an end.

They continued on their march, towards the main cavern. Now clearly emerging from the rock face they had hewn for so long was an effigy of some enormous Galka. The Mithra’s grand construct was nearly complete.

“Stop,” a voice commanded, and universally all action around them ceased. Only the distant echoing of water dripping into stagnant pools could be heard.

Shaohuan stood, head still down, and began walking as the slaves lowered the dais down. Devul’s eyes flickered momentarily, but then returned to their dull state. The Hume girl strode forward without interruption. Compelled by the same voice which drove them all on, she stopped only when she was but a few feet from the rock wall. She cast her gaze upwards at its enormity, saying nothing. Behind her, the Mithra stood on the stony ground, her hand outstretched in waiting. She had not long to wait before what she sought was delivered to her. Aboroth’s sad grimace sank even lower as he saw what it was the woman now wielded.

The double-pronged spear Ryu Akanei had brought with him was now clutched in her sharply nailed hands.

“Yes,” the Mithra purred, “this shall do perfectly. Yes indeed.” The malice in her voice would have sent a shiver through Aboroth’s spine had he control over his own movements. The Dragoon had fallen under the spell just as the rest of them had, but he fought it off and succeeded. Now his weapon was kept as a trophy. Worse than that, Aboroth knew. It was to be used for the execution of the one who helped him break free. Lowering the polearm to face the captive Shaohuan, the Mithra’s lips curled back. Aboroth could not turn his head away, as much as he wanted to. All present in hell would bear witness to what was going to happen now.

“The time has come, my loyal subjects,” Devul mouthed, unaware he was even saying anything. “Your hard work has come to an end.” He spread his hands in what was meant to be a magnanimous gesture. The way his arms held in the air, suspended like a marionettes’, made the motion eerily disturbing.

“This faithless one would drive us from the true path,” he continued, now twisting his head towards where Shaohuan stood, still facing the enormous Galkan idol. “but now she will serve our purpose instead.”

Shaohuan gasped as two slaves suddenly grabbed her arms under the crook of the elbow. Holding her steady, they lifted her into the air as she began to thrash about defiantly, the green-cloaked Mithra leveling Ryu’s spear as she advanced. Aboroth realized that now, in her last moments, control over her body had been returned to the young girl. His stomach turned. The Mithra wanted her to struggle in her last moments. She wanted to enjoy the kill.

“Your death serves a far greater purpose than it deserves, you wretched Thief,” the Mithra hissed as she advanced on the helpless girl. “You should be honored I found purpose for you at last.”

Shaohuan spit in her direction, furiously struggling against the burly Elvaan guards holding her in place. “I’ll die knowing you were never better than me,” she snarled. “and you’ll live knowing that’s the truth.”

The Mithra’s smile twisted into a bitter snarl. “You were never better than me, you miserable bitch!” her knuckles turned white against the shaft of Ryu’s spear. “You were never anything but a petty Thief! Look at what I am! Look what I have become!”

Tearing back the hood of her cloak, the Mithra revealed the hideous scarring covering the left side of her face. Intricately carved lines formed patterns reaching from scalp to shoulder, and, Aboroth knew, stretching down as far as her wrist as well. He quivered inwardly as he saw what the woman had done to herself. Then his attention was torn away. Behind Shaohuan, something was happening to the rock face.

It was subtle, barely even perceptible, but the expression of the great stone Galka was changing. The lines in the face were becoming more pronounced. The eyes were deepening. A pall of darkness began to emanate from the monstrous carving. The lines decorating the Mithra’s skin reacted, and Shaohuan gasped as a sickly purple light began shining beneath her adversary’s skin.

“I am so much more than what I was,” the Mithra said, and Aboroth felt it being whispered in the back of his mind. “You are nothing, Shaohuan. You die as nothing.”

The Mithra thrust Ryu’s spear forward. Shaohuan flinched and turned away. Aboroth struggled to close his eyes, but could not. His stomach clenched as he anticipated the scream.

It was not the one he had expected.

The azure streak in the air moved so quickly Aboroth wasn’t sure he had seen anything at all. The Mithra’s shriek of surprise was the only hint of its physical presence after its first pass, but then it came again. There was the flapping of leathery wings, and a beastial snarl. The guards holding Shaohuan dropped the girl and began snatching at the air as the scarred Mithra swung Ryu’s spear futilely, trying to make contact with the screeching object.

“What is this?!” the Mithra demanded, slashing at the air in front of her. Again the blue swirl struck, evading the guards and sending them careening into one another. There was a ferocious howl, and the source of the disruption settled in one place long enough to be discerned.

It was the blue-scaled wyvern of Ryu Akanei.

The Mithra let out a guttural sound of fury, slashing at the airborne lizard. It deftly evaded her clumsy strikes, letting loose a tongue of flame in response. Howling, the Mithra leaped back to avoid the fiery attack. Even as she did so, the wyvern swooped in, wrapping its claws around the shaft of its master’s weapon. The Mithra snarled, wrestling for control of the spear. With a mighty heave, she succeeded in fending off the wyvern’s attack, but no sooner had it released the weapon than it fired out another blast of liquid fire. Then, as suddenly as it had attacked, the creature was gone.
“After it!” the Mithra shouted, and Aboroth felt his legs moving in response to the behest. “Find that monster and kill it on sight!” She was fuming, angrier than Aboroth had ever seen her before. The pulsating glow beneath her scars had turned a ruddy red, and her eyes blazed with uncontained rage.

It paled in comparison to her reaction when she saw Shaohuan had escaped.


Shaohuan’s eyes darted furtively back and forth. The room was completely dark, and there was a hand pressed tightly over her mouth. A powerful grasp held her arms behind her. She tried to toss her head back, but was held firm. All she could tell is that she was moving, rapidly, back into the darkness. Where she was being carried to, she could not tell.

Abruptly, her flight halted. The Thief tumbled to the ground, feeling the cool, damp stone beneath her bare hands and knees as she was released. Panicked, she spun around, and then froze when a large hand grasped her shoulder. Before she could cry out, a finger pressed against her lips, bidding her to remain silent.

“We’re not so far away yet that they won’t hear you,” a voice whispered. “I need you to stay calm, Shaohuan.”

The girl’s surprise was visible as her eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to make out the rudimentary features of a face framed by dark brown hair, with eyes gleaming like those of a dragon.

“Ryu!” she whispered intensely. “But I saw you fall!”

“Please,” he scoffed, “I could handle falls from twice that height when I was still a trainee.” They both turned as the sound of nails clicking on rock tapped gently behind them. The air lit up as Ryu’s wyvern gave a mewling cry.

“It’s alright, Bo,” Ryu said comfortingly. “I didn’t think she’d give it up so easily. That’s fine.” He turned back to Shaohuan. His eyes gave a soft glow in the darkness, and she knew he could see everything perfectly.

“After I freed myself, I went looking for my armor,” he told her. “Most of it was in the room they put me in, but the gauntlets and my helmet are still missing. Do you know where they took them?”

The brunette girl nodded. “I saw the Mithra take them to Devul’s chamber. I don’t know if she wanted to use them or just keep them as trophies.”

Ryu took the information in, leveling his gaze at Shaohuan. His eyes were intense, but steady. “I’ve picked up that you might be a Thief of some reknown, Shao,” he spoke in a calming voice. “Is there any truth to that?”

Shaohuan’s expression immediately changed. “Truth?” she asked indignantly. “I’m the best Thief from San d’Oria to Bastok. There’s not a village in Quon that doesn’t know about me.”

“I see,” Ryu appraised, “but that Mithra isn’t from Quon, is she?”

Shaohuan took a deep breath in through her nose. “Mindartian slime,” her whisper was a harsh rasp. “She was nothing when we first met. She’d taken to robbing Beastmen over people. I was barely a teenager and I was already better than her.”

“And now?”

Shaohuan looked up defiantly. “I don’t know what that woman has become, or how it happened, but I am ten times the Thief she will ever be.”

The Dragoon nodded approvingly. “That’s what I wanted to hear,” he told her. “She stole my armor from me, Shaohuan. And I want you to steal it back.”

Shaohuan stood, bending her back so as not to scrape against the low ceiling of the cavern Ryu had taken her to. “You’re going after her, aren’t you?”

“She has something that belongs to me.” He began stepping backwards, back into the darkness surrounding them. “Let’s she how well she fares against someone thinking clearly.”


There was a steady beating of feet behind Aboroth told the story of the dozens of soldiers fanning out into the caverns around them. The whispering in their heads was more urgent than it had ever been. Find the wyvern and kill it, and bring its broken corpse back as proof. Find Shaohuan and break her legs at the knee, then drag her back to finish what had been started. Aboroth would do both if he found either one without question. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

One order was not in his mind. It seemed the Mithra did not want to even acknowledge the idea that the wyvern being alive could mean his master survived as well.

The Galka crept down a darkened tunnel, focusing his chi towards his eyes as he had been trained. His vision remained sharp as he traveled onwards. The trickle of energy was all that was allowed to him, but it was enough for him to hunt with. The elders of his monastery would be shamed by such manipulation of their teachings. Had he the ability, he would have hung his head.

He felt his feet stop beneath him, and he knew something was happening.

Suddenly, to his left, a cry shattered the stillness. He could feel the worms in his mind shift their attention instantly. Another surprised shout echoed around him, and the sound of steel scraping against stone was cut off in mid-stroke. The Monk shifted his stance in response to the silent orders racing through his mind. His legs began moving towards the source of the disturbance.

A moment later however, another cry rang out. This time, it came from the opposite direction of the first one. The sounds of a struggle were clear. Aboroth clearly heard the sound of rippling flames, the same one he had heard when the wyvern attacked the Mithra earlier. He was drawn out towards the diverging point where he had broken off from the rest. A plethora of tunnel mouths opened up in front of him. His head turned down towards the one where he had heard the last round of screams.

He felt the power of the spellsong rise up in his throat as he brought up his fists. A dim light flickered in the cavern in front of him, and a snort broke the tense silence. The wyvern was down that tunnel, watching Aboroth approach. His fists tightened, robes sliding down to his elbows as he turned his stance into a defensive one. The steel lining his knuckles gave a dull glint as a spot of fire flashed briefly in the distance.

A team of Elvaan guardsmen rushed out from one tunnel, guided on by the force which saw through Aboroth’s eyes. The former soldiers drew out their weapons, charging wordlessly into the cave mouth to face down the beast. Almost immediately, a jet of fire shot out from within, casting enough light to see the glimmering scales of the wyvern clearly. The men shouted out as they tried to avoid the flames, and then swung their weapons about blindly as darkness returned. A single breath of fire had taken any adjustment their eyes had made to the darkness. The wyvern was crafty.

Not crafty enough to be in two places at once, Aboroth knew, when he heard the sounds of a struggle from behind him.

He twisted around, and even as he did so he ducked out of the way in response to the blur at the edge of his vision. The blue wyvern sped out from the cavern, two of the Elvaan guards chasing after it. Aboroth’s hands immediately made to grab for it, but then stopped, or was bade to stop. A body had just been flung out of one of the other tunnels. This one was a normal villager, his weapons gone, laying unconscious on the cave floor.

There was a hushed moment as the guiding power behind the whisper contemplated this development. A moment later, a mass of humanity came pouring out from the other tunnels as her slaves rushed towards the cavern the body had come from. Soldiers and millworkers, carpenters and blacksmiths, farmers and weavers, all of them tools now to crush the source of the challenge to the whisper’s power.

Aboroth knew who it was. The whisper refused to acknowledge his thoughts.

Ryu Akanei was alive.

The heel of Ryu’s armored boot struck an armored Elvaan in the ribs, and he slumped to the ground in a heap. In the blink of an eye, the Dragoon leaped back into the darkness, just out of their range of vision. More and more of the Mithra’s slaves were pouring in to the tunnel, further blotting out any light coming in. It would be getting more and more difficult for the puppeteer to see through the eyes of her marionettes. Ryu, on the other hand, had the eyes of a dragon.

Darkness was his ally in this fight. The cavern grew even more crowded, and once again he sped from his hiding place. A scullery maid found herself picked bodily from the ground and hurled back into the advancing mass. The confusion threw them off balance, and while they struggled, another Elvaan was caught unawares. With a leap, Ryu planted his legs in the chest of the soldier, and then propelled himself away. Ryu’s muscle power threw the man off his feet, knocking the air from his lungs. Quickly as he had come, the Dragoon was gone again.

The confused mass straightened out mechanically. Eyes twisted in every direction, searching for their intended target. After a few disorderly moments, they spread out in different directions. Some went further down the darkened crevase, others back out the way they had come. A circle remained in place, heads twisting in disturbing unison.

“Come out, Dragoon,” one of them said, his eyes showing he was unaware of what his mouth was doing. “This is my realm to play with. The Devul is my pawn. Hell is mine, and the Lord of Dynamis will give me the rest when I bring him back into this world.”

Nothing stirred. Outside, the sounds of footsteps echoed.

“You cannot stop me, Dragoon,” another slave intoned. “Surrender yourself to his embrace. The darkness is mine. Give your mind to the darkness.”

There was a quick burst of motion, and all heads in the circle converged on a single point. The ring of slaves stood broken. A moment later, an unconscious body fell to the ground. A nervous murmer ran through the assemblage, a reaction wholly that of the one controlling them.

“Give this up!” Another demanded. “You’re a fool to think you can fight us – “

The words were cut off as a blue streak took the speaker in the ribs, catapulting it against the rocky wall. Leathery wings echoed through the cavern and then went silent.

“I demand you show yourself!” The voice reeked of something bordering on fear. “Where are you!?”

A burst of flame answered the cry. The cave lit up as Ryu dropped down from the vaulted roof, Bo’s wings extended behind him as the wyvern followed him down. The slaves were stunned by the sudden attack, and as Dragoon and wyvern fell upon them they were helpless to defend themselves. Ryu was a furious blur of motion, and Bo no less so. His fists moved with practiced precision, striking one opponent down with a forward thrust as he simultaneously backhanded another. Bo looped around a clumsy dive, headbutting his assailant with crushing force. Wyvern swooped down low, diving underneath Ryu as he jumped, taking the legs out from an approaching slave as Ryu delivered a kick to the Elvaan’s face. The two moved as one, a united mind that the whisper could not take hold in. Against such an assault, the voice could not coordinate a response. Within moments, there was a blind spot in its vision.

Ryu took no time to admire his handiwork. He prepared to blend in to the darkness once again. He had to keep this up until he drew the Mithra herself out.

Before he could jump to a spot of safety, however, a flash of light surged into the cavern. Bo cried out as a ball of pure chi energy struck the Dragoon full on. Ryu was torn from his feet as the blast surged through his body. He felt his spirit being rent down to the core as the ground came up at him. Bo swooped down to his side, screeching a cry of panic as the Dragoon convulsed. The light from the chi blast began fading from the cavern walls, leaving a blend of spots in Ryu’s eyes. Some came from the pain, others from the sudden loss of vision. Tiny dots swam across his eyes as he gasped, fingers scratching at the rocks as he tried to regain his footing.

An enormous shadow appeared in front of the cavern. Aboroth, hands still coursing with released energy, let out a slow breath as he lowered his arms.

“I am truly sorry, Ryu Akanei,” Aboroth said mournfully, “I cannot control myself.”

“You can fight,” Ryu had to stop to cough, pain wracking his body. “fight her, Aboroth. You’re still in control of your mind.”

A note escaped Aboroth’s lips, and the Galka closed his eyes as the melody swept over him. Ryu watched the power of the spellsong in action as a reddish glow, like a dim fire burning through his flesh, crept across the Galka as he sang. Veins began bulging in his arms, and his muscles bulged. Ryu could see the fabric of the Galka’s robe stretching as his mass increased; hear bones cracking as they set themselves to accomadate new pressure. Aboroth opened his eyes, body emanating power as he raised knuckles surmounted by cold steel.

“I am quite in control,” he agreed, “to my eternal regret, she lets me remain aware of everything this treacherous body does.”

Dust flew up at the Monk’s heels as he sprinted towards the Dragoon, who had only just managed to make it off the ground. Instantly, Bo put himself between them, snapping tiny, razor sharp teeth at the Galka. Aboroth swung at Bo with bone-breaking force, intent on shattering the tiny beast. Bo, however, was too quick even for the Monk, keeping just out of range of each strike, darting in just long enough to make stinging attacks of his own.

Ryu and Bo’s minds worked as one, seeing every vulnerable point Aboroth left exposed, analyzing his attacks with twice the speed. As Bo fought, Ryu watched. The wyvern let his wings go slack, dropping to the ground. Aboroth lunged, and Bo suddenly caught himself, swooping back up to narrowly miss grazing the Monk’s face with his claws. Ryu, waiting for the right moment, lunged forward and sank his fist into Aboroth’s kidney. The bones in his hands felt like they were broken. He recoiled with a wince of pain, but it didn’t seem all that much of a worry after Aboroth violently backhanded him across the face.

He could feel his jaw rattle loose as he skitted out of the tunnel and into the larger cavern outside. The element of darkness was gone, the glowing moss of the caves providing the same unnerving light he had worked by for what felt like weeks. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. Bo’s sense of outrage filled him, and even as Aboroth turned after the Dragoon, his partner pressed the attack.

Needle-like teeth sank into Aboroth’s shoulder, and the Galka writhed as blood began trickling down his ivory skin. With a titanic hurl, he forced Bo away, smashing his fists into the wyvern. Bo blew himself away from the attack with all the strength his wings could muster, and Aboroths’ hands struck only stone. Fissures appeared in the rock wall, a maze of cracks stemming off of them. He withdrew his hands to reveal knuckle-shaped indentations marring the smooth stone. Implacably, he struck at Bo again.

Ryu continued his struggle to shake off the pain and rise as Bo kept Aboroth busy. The other slaves wouldn’t be coming back now, Ryu was sure of that. He knew without a doubt now that the Mithra could only project broad orders with her perverse power, the actual control came down to her manipulation of Aboroth’s voice. Now she was focusing all her attention on controlling the Monk himself. If he could win here, she would have no choice but to risk a direct confrontation.

He stood, gasping as he did so. There was great power in the armor Bahamut had given him. Individually, however, the suit of mail, greaves, and brais he had recovered seemed only a fraction of what all five pieces together were capable of. He had to trust Shaohuan would not fail him.

His hopes for holding out long enough sank as Aboroth focused his chi into his fist.

Bo charged in, now practiced at avoiding the Galka’s strikes, but Aboroth was through playing. With a howl that could have blown the tunnel apart, the Monk released the power stored in his fist in one terrific blow. A cascade of energy erupted through the cavern, and Bo cried out as it struck him full on. It crackled through the air, illuminating the tunnel with white and gold. The wyvern was like a leaf in a hurricane, sent hurtling through the air and down the tunnel as his tiny body was assailed by Aboroth’s Howling Fist. With a final shriek, Bo vanished down the dark depths of the winding cavern and did not return. Aboroth’s head slowly turned, and his attention fell back on Ryu.

“She doesn’t even let me cry,” he said, looking at the Dragoon struggling to keep upright outside. “I cannot apologize anymore than I have, Ryu Akanei.” Even as he spoke, he was walking towards Ryu, energy like lightning crackling off his skin. “I can’t even promise to end it quickly.”

Aboroth’s fists rocketed into the ground as Ryu leaped away, the stone splintering beneath the Galka’s strike. Faster than Ryu would have expected, Aboroth swung again, the wind from his blow strong enough to slice a fresh cut in the Dragoon’s cheek. Relentlessly, the Monk rained blow after blow towards his target. Even one more would finish him, of that Ryu was certain.

The Monk could not be deterred. A punch grazed Ryu’s side, and the impact nearly tore him from the ground. He arched backwards, avoiding a follow up that sought to tear his head from the shoulders. Planting his hands on the ground behind him, the Dragoon sprung up, flipping away from a crushing overhead strike meant to rip him in two. He came up near a wall, and then immediately dove to the side as Aboroth’s foot turned a stone surface into a shower of dust and pebbles. The Galka tore his leg free from the wall without pause. Ryu could see the aura of the Monk growing only stronger as he continually gathered his might and amplified it through the spellsong. He had only moments left before the end.

A fist came streaking straight for his unprotected face, and he knew he could not get out of the way in time.

“Ryu!”

Both he and Aboroth turned in reaction to the voice. The Galka was thrown completely off balance, and his killing blow grazed the Dragoon, steel knuckles scraping the surface of his skin. Ryu was so shocked he almost didn’t register the objects being thrown at him until it was too late. Moving more on impulse than anything, he snatched them out of the air, and then gaped at what he held.

Shaohuan stood in the circular entrance to the larger tunnel mouth which led back to the great stone Galka. In Ryu’s hands, his clawed gauntlets stared back at him.

“She has the helmet with her, Ryu!” the Thief called down at him. “This was all I could find!”

“Shaohuan!!” Aboroth shouted. “Escape before she takes a hold of you, too!” Already he was rising, but his body seemed unsure of what to do. Shaohuan froze as well, the possibility occurring to her. It seemed the Mithra was wrestling with her options as well, unwilling to divide her attention away from Aboroth before Ryu was finished.

The Hume took advantage of the moment and slipped his gauntlets on. They wrapped around him like a second skin. The steel claws on the end became like extensions of his fingers. They interlocked with the rest of the armor perfectly. A surge of purplish light emitted from the gauntlets as they bonded with the rest of Bahamut’s mail. A power Ryu had not felt in quite some time rushed through his body, filling his muscles with might. It was the same sensation he had felt weeks earlier, when Bahamut had first given him the magnificent armor.

He turned his eyes on Aboroth, and clenched his fingers. The strength of a dragon coursed through him.

Ryu didn’t wait for the Mithra to form a plan of action. He simply rushed in at full speed and hammered his now-armored fist into Aboroth’s gut.

The Galka doubled over in the air as Ryu’s attack ripped his feet from the ground. The Dragoon continued forward, running with the Monk on the edge of his fist, not stopping until he slammed him into the wall opposite them. Aboroth pulled himself free, but Ryu’s fist was there to meet him. The Galka’s head bounced back as the blow took him across the chin. He rolled free, and Ryu knew that as long as the Mithra was pulling the strings, his body would move as long as it was able. Ryu clenched his fists again as Aboroth came forward.

The Monk unleashed a shattering double punch which could have brought down a building. It whistled through the air, screaming down towards Ryu. The Dragoon’s own hand shot up, and with a bell-like ring of metal on metal, the Hume caught the Galka’s fist in his palm. Pain like lightning shot down his arms all the way to his shoulder, but the Dragoon did not give up his ground. The enormous Galka stood pressing down upon him, both of their legs pushing with such might that the stone started to buckle beneath them.

Ryu and Aboroth locked eyes. The Dragoon’s burned as his arms started to shake under the might of the Galka’s hulking fists. Strands of brown hair stuck to Ryu’s face with sweat. Blood dripped down from Aboroth’s face as his grit his teeth. The air rippled and cracked around them as both struggled to overpower the other. Rocks on the ground began to quake as the force of their struggle rocked the cavern itself.

Ryu Akanei closed his hands around Aboroth’s fists. The steel knuckles he wore broke in half along with most of the bones in the Galka’s hands. Aboroth pulled away, lacking even the ability to cry out in pain, but had no way to defend as Ryu’s fist rocketed into his exposed cheek.

The Galka wavered on his feet for a moment, the force animating him desperately seeking something to keep ahold of. It found nothing. Like a fallen oak, Aboroth sank to his knees.

“Thank you, Ryu Akanei,” Aboroth muttered through his broken jaw. “Thank you.”

The monstrous Galka collapsed to the ground, his fall echoing throughout the cavern.

Ryu watched him fall, panting, and a moment later he joined the Galka on the ground.

“Ryu!” A voice called out, and the Dragoon heard two feet tap down against the ground. The cavern itself had been devastated by their battle. Shaohuan ran towards the Dragoon across shattered stone and broken rock, steaming cracks spidering their way across the ground even after the battle had concluded.

The Thief knelt down over Ryu, gasping when she saw the bright trail of blood dripping from his mouth and ears. To Ryu’s eyes, it looked like three of the slim young girl was perched over him, and her voice was a distant noise to the roaring in his skull. He tried to wave her away, but she wouldn’t budge. It took what little focus Ryu had left to block her out and concentrate.

Shaohuan jumped up with a start as Bo streaked directly in front of her, coming down with a dust-stirring beating of his wings to the side of his comrade. The wyvern gave a plaintive cry at the sight of Ryu’s condition.

“We’re almost finished. Just one last push. I need your strength, friend,” Ryu thought, and he could hear the wyvern’s thoughts in turn. They were unfiltered emotions, but still understood by the Dragoon. He slowed his breathing with great effort. Bo stretched his wings out to their fullest, lowering his head down over his link to the world of man.

A burning azure light came to life from within Bo himself. The wyvern closed its large, liquid eyes, and the glow intensified, now spreading to Ryu’s body as well. Shaohuan watched with wide eyes as Bo became the light itself, a shimmering aura of energy hanging in the air. Ryu was glowing now as well, his every fiber reacting to what Bo was doing.

Shaohuan stepped back in surprise as Ryu’s body lifted off the ground on its own. The light which Bo had become was now sinking into the Dragoon’s prostrate body. Wings, teeth, claws, scales, all turned into pure energy, pure spirit, sank into Ryu’s being. The air suddenly rushed in around the duo, and a surge of light and sound erupted from the Hume’s incandescent form. Shaohuan shielded her eyes as the tapping of metal boots against stone caught her ears.

“We are one,” Ryu said aloud, and in his voice there was something else. Something powerful and beastial trailing behind every word. His eyes were metallic glints, and his lips tightened into a snarl. The air around him was electric with energy as it crackled off of his armor. Shaohuan’s hair practically stood on end as the Dragoon turned her eyes towards her.

“Where . . . where did the wyvern go?” Shaohuan asked, dumbfounded.

Ryu tapped his chest with two bladed fingers. “For a short time only, but we will not need much more. The sum of our parts is greater than the individual.”

“Ryu?” Shaohuan said, and there was something else in her voice now as well. “Ryu, I – I can’t move my legs, Ryu.”

The Dragoon snapped his head around with a growl from deep in his throat. The Mithra’s scarred visage stared back angrily at him. She held Mezraq in her hands. Beneath the folds of her green cloak, something dark and purple was hanging from her belt.

“That’s right,” she said in her manipulative whisper, “and I’ll fill it with your skull before I’m through.”

“Let Shaohuan go,” his demand was accented by the monstrous snarl behind it, “I won’t give you another chance.”

“She cannot help but obey me,” the scarred woman countered, a dull but visible glow emanating from beneath her cloak. “I have been gifted by my dark lord. I don’t need the Galka to dominate a single person.”

Ryu’s fingers arched like a wyvern’s claws. His eyes narrowed as he growled at the woman.

“If you make her fight me, I’ll just knock her out like I did to Aboroth,” he told her menacingly, “and if you try to do anything to her, I’ll just kill you.”

“I have your weapon, Dragoon,” she countered, tightening her grip around the spear. “After I kill you with it, I will sacrifice that worthless little girl on my own terms. Until then, she will wait patiently for me at the base of my creation, won’t you, Shaohuan?”

Ryu could see Shaohuan was already walking, moving towards the tunnels leading back to the great stone Galka visage carved in the stone wall. Her eyes darted about desperately, but her actions were under the control of the Mithra once again.

“What do you want her for?” Ryu demanded.

“The Lord of the Nightmare World is still trapped because of his spiritual bonds to Dynamis,” the Mithra told him. “But I will help him slip those chains, and turn all of hell into a new body for him to inhabit, a body he will use to dominate Vana’diel for all time!”

“I’m going to show you what hell really means.”

Before she could even raise Mezraq in defense, Ryu’s leap took him like an arrow from a bow into the Mithra. They tumbled one over the other down one of the darkened tunnels, falling into the unseen depths below.

The pair landed simultaneously. Ryu deftly crouched down at the end of the jump, the armor in his legs absorbing the impact completely. The Mithra simply bounded from rock to rock, finally touching down with her feet in a pool of water on the cavern floor, bearing Mezraq in front of her like a ward. Their eyes locked, and each sized up the other. She had Ryu’s weapon, but Ryu had something else she could not stand up against.

Ryu had the truth.

“Aboroths’ voice controls the masses, and you control Aboroth.” Ryu circled the Mithra as he spoke, never lowering his eyes from hers. “Devul’s a White Mage, isn’t he? You work us all to the brink of death, and then use Devul to bring us back from the edge. That’s why you let him rest all day and act as king, isn’t it? So he always has as much power as possible? That way you could keep working us day and night. And there’s got to be some illusion in place of being in hell, being punished, to make people accept it. To sell the lie to the point where your power can creep in.”

The Mithra bared her fangs at him as he spoke, keeping her steps in time with his. “You know nothing, Hume. You are trapped here, and don’t think this rebellion will go unpunished. Devul will – “

“Save it,” he cut her off, “nobody here is listening anymore.”

Snarling, the scarred woman charged forward, swinging Mezraq wildly. Ryu grit his own teeth, more in anger than anything, and thrust his hand forward. His twin-bladed spear shed sparks where it hit the ground as it went flying from the Mithra’s grasp. She gasped as blood began trickling down her body. Ryu held her aloft in his clawed grasp, eyes blazing as his grip tightened around her neck.

“You made it so easy to figure out,” Ryu chastised, tossing the Mithra away with a swipe of his gauntleted hand. She landed on the ground with a heavy thud and a splash. Snorting and grunting, she pulled herself up, but the Dragoon was on her again in an instant. With a furious thrust, he wrapped his hand around the woman’s throat, plunging her head into the freezing cave pool.

“Everybody knows,” he growled at her, “there’s no ice water in hell.”

The Mithra lashed out with her arms, scratching at Ryu furiously. The Dragoon feinted back to avoid her strikes, and she took the opportunity to leap free. She hissed at him, hands fumbling for Mezraq as the Dragoon closed in. Her hands found the metallic shaft, grasping at it even as Ryu drew near.

“We’re in Ordelle’s Caves, aren’t we?” he demanded, the clawed tips of his gloves tapping against the armored palms. “The villagers, the Elvaan soldiers, it all adds up for anyone who can actually think about it.” The Mithra rushed forward, seeking to impale Ryu with his own weapon. She was shrieking at him insanely, calling for his blood. Ryu sidestepped her with ease, arm striking like a serpent as she ran by him harmlessly. She halted several paces away, spinning and bringing Mezraq to bear once again.

She saw what Ryu was holding, and glanced down at her waist in a panic.

The Hume’s brown hair disappeared beneath the blade-surmounted helmet Bahamut had gifted him with. The joints locked together, and a shimmering purple light bled out from the connecting points as the suit became one once more. Within the embrace of the Wyrmking’s mail, a flowing blue cape burst from the shoulders, and a plated belt snapped into place around the waist. Renewed power flowed through Ryu’s body as he clenched his fists, feeling the enhanced senses the helmet gifted him with. His mind felt as if a dozen closed doors swung open inside of it. He could smell the perspiration and pheremones escaping the Mithra’s body, and taste the fear and desperation in the air. His ears could single out the faintest twitter of her eyelashes.

All the power of the armor was his once again. There was just one piece missing. Ryu raised a clawed finger towards the Mithra, making his intention clear.

Then she did something he had not seen coming. She threw the weapon down and ran.

A frantic burst of chi accompanied her departure, speeding her legs at an unheard of rate. Cursing, Ryu took off after her, snatching Mezraq from the ground as he did so. The weapon nearly leaped into his hands on its own as he grabbed for it. He raced as fast as he could after the Mithra, his senses keeping him aware of all her movements down the maze of corridors.

“I will sacrifice this cow, and her soul will breathe life into my great creation!” Ryu could hear the Mithra’s screams all the way down the winding tunnel. “My lord will have an invincible body, rooted in the power of Vana’diel itself!”

Ryu could hear a panicked scream in the distance, and his nose picked up the scent of oil and steel. A weapon had been drawn. He knew where she was going. To the great stone Galka face where she had ordered Shaohuan.

The Dragoon’s legs pumped as fast as he could move them, even as insane laughter trailed back to find him. He rounded the final corner just as the Mithra sped towards Shaohuan, rooted in place and forced to watch as the knife in the other woman’s hand descended towards her.

“My name shall echo down the halls of eternity after it is I who frees the Dynamis Lord from his prison!” She cried wildly. “My name will live forever!”

She thrust out her knife towards Shaohuan, and then withdrew her arm with a scream of anguish.

Shaohuan looked down in shock as the woman’s right hand fell to the ground, knife and all, separated from her arm at the wrist. Mezraq’s shaft shook in the rock where it was embedded, several feet past them. Ryu stood, straightening himself after throwing the weapon, gazing contemptuously at the bleeding Mithra.

“I don’t know your name,” he told her, “but I guess we can just call you Lefty now.”

She only screamed in response, cradling her stump of a right hand to her body. Desperately, insanely, she dropped down to the ground, trying to pry her fallen knife out of her own severed hand. The woman was blubbering incoherently now, and tore the blade up, waving it back and forth. Ryu ignored it and came forward.

“Time to answer for your crimes,” he decreed, extending his arms towards her.

The scarred Mithra gasped, taking an involuntary step back. Her knife fell harmlessly to the ground. Ryu felt a tingle of warning shoot up his spine, and realized the Mithra wasn’t looking at him, but over his shoulder. Twisting to bare his spear at the threat he perceived, he lowered it in conjunction with the widening of his eyes.

Darkness was blossoming behind him; a blot of nothingness blooming in the air that eradicated all traces of light. The Mithra let out a whimper, and Ryu turned to find her scampering in a panic, scraping at the wall for some form of egress. A yelp came out of her bloodied lips, and Ryu turned back to the darkening formation to see a figure emerging from its core.

From the yawning hole in reality, a man garbed in a mantle of pure shadow stepped into Ordelle’s Caves. Darkness trailed off of him, swallowing the light wherever it touched. His skin was pale, his hair black as night. The man was rugged and square-jawed, with a face flawlessly handsome, yet tinged with unmistakable cruelty.

“You are right indeed, Ryu Akanei,” he said in a voice heavily tinged with an accent from lands of the distant East. “Her judgment is at hand.”

Ryu stood frozen in place, directly in between the man in black and the whimpering Mithra. He did not even slow down in his approach, ghosting through the air like a wraith. As soon as he touched the Dragoon, a tumultuous burst of fire and heat erupted, tossing Ryu to the side. He landed on the ground unharmed, but gasped as he realized Bo was now across the cavern from him. Simply a touch had been powerful enough to separate man from wyvern on a spiritual level.

He quickly sought out the man in black. The daunting figure hung in the air above the scarred Mithra, whose hood had fallen down to reveal her grotesquely distorted face. Snorting at the sight of her, the man reached into his cloak. He withdrew a weapon the likes of which Ryu had never seen. It was a gun, but made of no material he could discern, a metal that shone even with no light upon it. The barrel looked more like it had grown out of the wooden handle than been attached. Extending it in one hand, the man’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at the woman beneath him.

“Did you honestly think I would let you do this, you petty thief?” the man in black asked with a disgusted curl in his lip as he looked down upon the Mithra. He leveled his gleaming gun at the cowering woman before him as she cringed back in despair. “Did you really think I would spend so many years planning to be undone by the likes of you?”

“P-p-please!” she begged, holding her bloodied stump of a hand aloft. “Please, I was only serving the Dynamis Lord, just as you do!”

The man in black’s expression shifted into an ironic smile.

“You know nothing of who I serve,” he said in a withering tone, and the Mithra shrank back in fear. The inky cloak he wore rippled as he clicked back the hammer. Tears streamed down the scarred face of his target.

“Please,” she pleaded, “I will kill the Dragoon, I will – “

“Idiot,” he spat. “That Dragoon is on a mission from Bahamut himself,” her eyes went wide at the pronouncement. “To impede his progress as much as you have has imperiled us all.” He shouted down her voice when she spoke in protest. “Bahamut intends to level Vana’diel should the Dragoon not serve his whims, fool! It serves no one’s purpose if the Wyrmking destroys us all!”

“I didn’t know!” she sobbed, “Please, mercy, I beg of you! Please, Doshu, I – “

“This conversation,” the man in black concluded, “is over.”

The trigger of his weapon pulled back. The air seemed to suck in towards the barrel, and an unnatural gleam surged through the gun. A burning blackness overtook the eyes of the man the Mithra identified as Doshu, and a single word escaped his lips as he stood over the weeping woman.

“Coronach.”

Ryu averted his eyes as an explosion of light burst out of the weapon. He could hear the tormented scream of the scarred woman as it blast overtook her. The entire cavern was illuminated by the force of Doshu’s attack, blinding and brilliant. A ripple of energy shook Ordelle’s Cavern to the firmament. Ryu felt his bones shake through his armor as the destructive wave swept past him. Down the miles of caverns beyond them Ryu could hear the echo as rocks were shaken loose and stalagmite broken from where they were rooted. He had never felt a force like it in his life. The power which shook him went beyond everything Ryu knew save the power of the Wyrmking himself.

In a moment, it was over, and the Dragoon turned his eyes towards where the man in black hung, suspended in the air. Beneath him, there was naught but a curl of black smoke creeping through the air from a smoldering wound in the ground. Not even a green cloak remained. The scarred Mithra had been completely annihilated.

Doshu pulled his weapon back, faint traces of energy still trailing off of it. His jet black hair trailed behind him as he turned his head to the side. His eyes fell on Ryu, and their gazes locked.

Ryu held up his clawed hands in defense. Doshu gave a derisive laugh. “You should know better, Akanei.” A portal of darkness bloomed behind him, identical to the one which had issued him forth.

“Wait!” Ryu demanded, but Doshu only gave the merest flick of his black-gloved hand. Ryu staggered back as if struck, and pulled his hand away from his jaw. He could feel a bruise rising on his cheek. The Dragoon fell back into Shaohuan’s arms, struggling to rise again.

“Succeed in your mission, Ryu Akanei,” he bade with untold forbidding. “Then when my plans are complete, I shall deal with the Wyrmking myself.”

Just as suddenly as he had come, the man in black was gone.

Shaohuan and Ryu stared at each other. Neither was exactly sure what they had just seen.

The event barely had time to register, however, before the former slaves of the Mithra’s schemes began emerging from the caverns, their minds and bodies free.


It was nearly a day and a half later when Ryu finally was satisfied the situation would not degenerate into chaos.

No one had been more horrified at the events than Devul. The Tarutaru, a wealthy man of some note whom was only vacationing in San d’Oria when the demons came, felt mortified at what he had been made to do. As soon as events had been made clear, the Tarutaru set out to make things right, and as it turned out he was more than capable of doing just that. All those injured or suffering from the endless work they had been forced into felt the touch of Devul’s healing magic. The tiny would-be-king was quite powerful. Everyone understood what had happened, and felt sympathy for the Devul.

Once healed, Aboroth set out with no less fervor than Devul. Using his knowledge, he set bones and staved off infections, but also used his spellsong to keep people calm as things were sorted out. The Monk spoke of setting off immediately to Windurst, but only after the people here had been taken care of. He hauled buckets of water back and forth, bringing food and nourishment to those who could not. The Galka was not only cleansing the people, he was scrubbing what he considered a black mark out of his own soul.

The discovery that the Elvaan soldiers amongst their ranks were mostly members of the San d’Orian Temple Knights was not as much a surprise as that one of their number was Rahal himself. The famous general had been leading military exercises in Valkurm when the demons attacked. They got as far in a retreat as La Thiene before he and all his men were dragged down a secret tunnel the same way Ryu had been. Separated from their counterparts, the Royal Knights, during the initial struggle in Valkurm’s sand dunes, they were no doubt thought devoured by the demons rather than lost. They were wasting no time on developing plans to locate the others and reunite with the Elvaan army.

“I owe you a great debt, Master Dragoon,” Rahal told Ryu as he clapped him on the shoulder. “Your actions have saved a great many people.”

“If I don’t leave immediately, it may all be for nothing,” he replied.

“Yes, so you’ve said,” the general acknowledged, his tone lowering gravely. “Take great care in the Tomb of King Ranperre, Master Dragoon.” His warning was deathly serious. “The Dragon King did not construct his final resting place to be breached by anyone.”

“I’ll do what I must, general,” Ryu told him, but the sense of foreboding growing within him now had something to feed on.

The Dragoon was almost to his last stop inside Ordelle’s when Shaohuan found him. She was running back and forth amongst the masses of people now wandering through the tunnels, searching for either belongings or loved ones. A case of medical supplies was in one of her hands, and a roll of blankets nestled in the crook of her arm.

“Where are you going?” she asked him, balancing her load carefully as she followed the Dragoon onwards.

“There’s something I have to take care of before I leave.” He took a look around at the still generally mystified faces roaming by. “I unfortunately don’t have the time to hang around and wait for people to sort things out. I just hope nothing that happened here has any lasting effect. Those women being forced to act as Devul’s harem must be going through a nightmare. I can’t imagine what they went through.”

“Not as much as you might think,” Shaohuan replied. Before Ryu could ask what she meant, the situation made itself quite clear.

“Damn, but that was some good time off!” He heard a female voice say nearby, and turned to see one of the women in question, a thin blonde, stretching languidly. She thrust out her chest, cracking her back, and then let out a belch. Another woman, this one with jet black hair and a darker complexion, nodded her agreement.

“Ain’t had this much time away from business in I don’t know how long.”

“Hey now,” a red-headed Mithra said beside them, “don’t let the boss hear you speaking like that. We gotta get back to work now.”

“What’s all this talkin’ goin’ on, bitches?” a lively, high-pitched voice called out. The gathered group, a dozen women in all, turned to regard Devul himself as he walked in to the cavern. The Tarutaru had traded his stained robe and crown for a blue velvet robe and stylized hat. He still wore several overly large rings, just far gaudier now than what the Mithra had dressed him up in. His smile revealed a tooth encased in gold. “We gots to go make right in the world! Get up off yo’ lazy asses!”

“Aww, we gotta already, boss?” one of them protested.

“Shit, baby, don’t be givin’ me no backtalkin’. We gonna help these people out first, ya feel me?”

“You can count on us, Devul honey, you know we love you.”

“Shut up, baby, I know it,” the Tarutaru told her, reaching up to give the woman a firm smack on her bottom. “Now you pretty l’il things go see what all needs to be done to help out around this place, while I handle some private business. Got it? Don’t just stand there looking good, babies! Go, go!”

His women running off on his order, Devul turned his attention to Ryu. The Tarutaru quickly made his way over to the dumbfounded Dragoon.

“Ryu,” he said, extending his hands, “I just wanted to thank you again before you go. If you ever need help, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m usually in business in this part of the world this time of year, every year.”

“So you,” he began, scratching his head, “I mean, you – and, those girls, they – you mean – “

“Hey,” Devul said, wagging a finger, “what my bitc- I mean, what those ladies do with their lives is none o’ your business. Unless, of course, you care to do some business.”

“Some other time, Devul,” Shaohuan told the White Mage. “Ryu’s got important work left to do. We can’t have him getting distracted now.”

“Damn, Shao, it’s too bad you got that mouth on you, or you’d be one fine – “the look the Thief directed at the Tarutaru would have withered fruit on the vine. “Don’t you be eyeballin’ me, girl!” he warned, even as he took a visible step back. “I was just playin’ anyhow. We all know you’re going back to the life after this.”

“Right,” Shaohuan replied, but the tone of her voice sounded less than convincing. “You know me, if I’m awake, I’m stealing.”

“Good girl, Shao. Remember Ryu – you need anything, you look me up.” And with that, Devul took off down the tunnels, following the girls who followed him.

Ryu continued walking, shaking his head as he did. Shaohuan kept following him, but he thought nothing of it. There was just one last thing to take care of.

At the end of the tunnel he walked down, the great stone Galka, an effigy of the Dynamis Lord, rose from the rock it had been hewn from. No one had come in this room since being freed. The symbol of their bondage was more than any of them could bear. Even for Ryu, it turned his stomach.

Shaohuan took a step back as Mezraq flashed into Ryu’s metal grasp. The Dragoon’s eyes narrowed as he stared into the lifeless tone before him. The Dynamis Lord was not just the symbol of the oppression these people faced. It represented the leader of the demons which had scoured their world, breaking apart friends and families. The staggering loss of life which was on the head of the monster represtend in the carving was too great a number to contemplate. Given a free hand, he would extend his reach beyond Mindartia and Quon, until all of Vana’diel was crushed under never-ending shadow.

A spiral of energy bloomed at Mezraq’s tip, creeping its way up Ryu’s arm. The Dragoon took a step forward, then another, gaining speed until he finally was at a dead run towards the monstrous idol. He gave a roar as he focused all his power into Mezraq’s thrust, twirling the spear for momentum before thrusting it towards its target.

There was a sound like thunder as Ryu’s spear collided with the hewn image. It exploded like an overripe fruit thrown to the ground. Debris shot out in all directions, a cloud of dust sweeping over Ryu as it collapsed. The face came crashing down all at once, bringing an end once and for all to the ordeal within Ordelle’s Caverns. Ryu emerged from the smoke, clasping Mezraq upon his back. He never looked back as the wall continued to crumble behind him.

He was nearly to the exit, Bo perched over his shoulder, when Shaohuan’s voice caught up to him again.

“Wait up,” she cried out, “where are you going?” She still held her bag of medical supplies and blankets.

“What do you mean?” Ryu queried. He had made his mission plain to her the day before. “I’m on my way out, I told you all this already.”

“No, I meant “where are you going without me?” You don’t think I’m staying here, do you?”

The question caught him by surprise. “But – what about the people here?”

“I’m a Thief, Ryu,” she said bluntly. “Helping people isn’t something I’m good at. These,” she indicated the load she carried, “are for me. I’m coming with you.”

“Absolutely not,” Ryu responded. “Even I don’t know how dangerous this is going to be. I’m not letting you throw yourself in harm’s way.”

“Then I’ll go to Ranperre’s Tomb anyway. He’s some famous King, right? I’ve never robbed a tomb before.”

“But – “

“I’m going.” She said flatly, brushing an errant strand of auburn hair from her face. “You either have the best Thief in the region on your side or you don’t, Dragoon. But if you’re so worried about my safety, wouldn’t you want me where you can keep an eye on me?”

Ryu and Bo shared a look. This girl couldn’t be older than sixteen, but Ryu could not honestly recall meeting an adult half as cunning.

“Alright,” he conceded grudgingly, “you go where I go, and you do what I say, got it?” He cut off her protest. “This is not a game, Shaohuan. This is the entire world we’re talking about.”

“Then it should be exciting,” the Thief grinned mischieviously.

The Dragoon exchanged another glance with his wyvern. He had no idea whether or not he had just made a terrible mistake.

One way or the other though, he had not another second to spare. Shaohuan now by their side, Ryu Akanei and Bo made their way finally back into daylight, to complete the quest of the Wyrmking, and save Vana’diel.
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