Chapter LCV: The Woman in the Sack

Emblim was a blinding glare in the desert sun, and he descended upon the Anticans like the hand of an angry god.

With his armor polished to a mirror finish, the intense Altepan sun made him almost unbearable to look at when he stood beneath it. When he swung his sword, it left a trail of light in the eyes of onlookers like fire scorching the air. The Anticans responded without hesitation to his sudden attack, but their weapons hammered uselessly against the Paladin's gleaming shield. He endured their counter attack for only a few seconds before his own reinforcements arrived.

A bloodthirsty howl marked the arrival of Towering Inferno. Wielding a scythe nearly as enormous as he was, the Galka sliced into the Anticans with unrestrained fury. The Anticans shifted their ranks to respond to the new threat instantly, simultaneously increasing their pressure on Emblim in an attempt to swarm over him. Before they could press the advantage in numbers, there was a second shield in their way. It was in view just long enough to smash the closest Antican face against thick steel before it gave way to a flashing blade. Erilan stood beside his comrade with his sword a dizzying spectacle of Antican blood and severed limbs.

Clicking noises streaming from their mouths, the beastmen compensated once again. There were nine of them now, down from an initial twelve, and they broke into three groups to deal with their opponents. They did not shout or scream, or even yell at their attackers. The Anticans only swiftly and efficiently moved to respond to each new threat as it arose.

"These guys creep me out," Erilan complained as he deflected a blow from a morningstar.

"They're not the best conversationalists in the world," Emblim agreed, stepping back as his three opponents sought to flank him.

"Shut up and fight you weaklings!" Towering Inferno's scythe howled as it sliced the desert air. Its cruel blade took an Antican's head off in a single stroke. As it fell to the ground, it continued clicking. The thick antennae stretching from its brow kept moving until the Galka named Riidley brought his boot down, cracking the severed skull like an eggshell.

"Not that our present company is much better," Emblim said sourly as the Anticans restrategized, one soldier breaking off from each of the three on the Paladins and joining the fight against the Galka. Swiftly raising his shield, he braced himself to receive the blow coming his way. In front of him, an ant prepared to hammer its sword down upon its target, but suddenly halted before it could deliver the strike.

Tilting its head, it slowly reached for the handle of the ax now embedded in its chest.

"Is that the signal?" Erilan asked.

"That's the signal. Riidley, let's move!"

In a coordinated move, all three of them broke from their attackers and ran. Pausing only long enough to regroup, the Anticans began marching through the sand after their attackers at a steady and implacable pace. In the lead, the one with the ax in its chest tore the weapon free, ignoring the orange-hued blood dripping from its carapace as discarded it, letting the hungry sands of Altepa swallow it up.

They made it perhaps three steps before they shared its fate, with the ground itself swelling upwards to claim them.

Emblim watched from atop the hill as the rock and earth rumbled beneath the Antican squad. They never screamed or struggled, nor even changed the clicking sounds they used to communicate. Sinking beneath the sands which violently assaulted them, hammering them down into nothing, they only tried to keep moving forward, still intent on reaching their fleeing targets. Suppressing a shudder, Emblim turned to the others.

"Good work out there," he said approvingly. "That went just like we planned."

"Hmph," Feldin pulled the hood of his robe tighter, sinking back into his depths. The San d'Orian's garb left almost no skin exposed to the desert's harsh elements, and he seemed intent on keeping it that way. Traces of the spell he unleashed were still in the air, creating an aura of force around him. "A dozen Anticans means nothing. They likely will not even notice such a number is missing."

"They'll know," Riidley spat. The big Galka was sitting down in the sand, watching the insect-like beastmen be devoured by the ground. "But they won't care. Twelve ants? They probably made three times that while we were busy here."

"Captain," Emblim spun at the sound of his name to see an exuberant young face staring up at him. "Captain, how did I do? Did I get it right?"

Smiling, he patted Etrien on the shoulder. The young Warrior from Konschtat had practically begged to be allowed to come out with them. Ever since arriving in Rabao, he had trailed close behind Emblim wherever he went hoping for a chance to help. "You did very well, Etrien," he assured the youth. "You were right on time and on target."

His face beamed with pride. "Thank you sir!" He shouted emphatically.

"Hey hey," Emblim turned at the sound of Erilan's voice, coming from down the hill. The earth had ceased its roiling, content now with its meal. His Elvaan counterpart was peering down curiously at something peeking up from the sand, just beyond where they had ambushed the Anticans. "What have we got here?"

"Don't touch it." Sliding down the hill, leaving a wake of disturbed sand behind him, Emblim walked towards the other Paladin cautiously. The object was as big as Etrien, lying buried in the swiftly-moving sand which bit against a rough surface. It looked almost like a rock, but when the wind blew strongly enough it shifted in reaction. "Were they carrying this with them?" He asked aloud.

"They were," Etrien's voice called back from atop the dune. "They dropped it after you attacked them. I saw it from where I was hiding."

"Hmm . . . " Erilan looked speculative. "What do you think, Emb? Should we open it up?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "Whatever's inside could be dangerous. Or it could be their lunch, for all we know."

"An Antican lunch is probably pretty dangerous," the other Paladin said glibly. He and Emblim both chortled, but suddenly Erilan brought his shield forward with a flash. Emblim was nearly thrown backwards by the impact of Riidley's scythe against the San d'Orian's shield, and Erilan was literally brought to his knees. Fuming, the Galka brought his weapon up for another blow.

"Get out of the way, Elvaan!" His eyes were red with fury at being denied his initial strike.

"What is wrong with you, soldier?" Erilan demanded. "Stand down!"

"That's an egg sack! There's Antican eggs in there!" He snarled menacingly as Emblim stepped in front of him. "I'm going to smash it and you're not gonna stand in my way, you hear me?"

"Whoa, whoa, hold on, we have no idea what this is," Emblim tried to sound reassuring, but Towering Inferno's face only grew darker. "Look, I've seen the remains of an Antican egg sack, aren't they usually much bigger than this?"

"You've "seen" them!" The Galka snorted. "Fool, I'm not talking about some dried up husk. I've seen the real thing! You want to talk remains? I've seen these in the remains of the Galkan homeland. I know an egg sack when I see one, now stand aside and - "

"Peace, my friend," they all stopped, turning at the new voice. A serene and smiling Elvaan face greeted them, draped in conservative white robes bearing no markings save the Star of Altana upon them. His hood was down, face tanned and hair lightened by the powerful desert sun. He seemed to glide across the sand, laying a comforting hand on one of Riidley's gauntlets. "Hold just a moment, if you please."

"Atreides!" Erilan stood, shaking sand off his armor. "I thought you were staying in Rabao?"

"I heard you were going into battle and came to see if you had injuries to treat." He stared hard at the strange Antican construct on the ground. "Sirs," his voice turned serious, "there is something alive inside that cocoon."

"You see?" Riidley fumed. "Now let me smash it!"

"Wait!" The Bishop's voice was more forceful as he leaned down closer to the object. "Not somethings, something. There is a soul trapped inside."

They looked at it with some uncertainty. Riidley stamped his scythe down, staring down hard at the other three.

"Fine, slice it open, and when you see the eggs in there, just like I said, you break them open and leave them to rot."

"Very well, Sir Riidley," Atreides nodded to Emblim. "Captain, if you would?" He started and put his hands out as the Paladin lowered his sword to cut. "Ah, not too deep, mind."

"Right," he eased the blade in, finding the substance just as durable as it appeared. With some difficulty, he managed to cut through. Slowly, the cocoon started peeling back, separated folds tearing away from one another. As he worked his sword through the tough material, grunting with the effort, it suddenly ripped apart like sundered cloth, revealing the contents inside.

He heard Erilan's gasp before Riidley's shocked cry. There were no eggs inside the sack. There was a Mithra.


Night's cool breath had swept across the desert, sweeping away the day's blistering heat. On the mainland, winter would be settling in. The desert was no exception to the elements; when the sun dropped below the horizon, temperatures could drop below freezing. As Emblim gazed across the city of tents which had risen up in Rabao, he saw the light from hundreds of lanterns reflecting off the man-made lake around which the town had grown. A thin film of ice mirrored that light back, the result was the impression of a thousand fireflies hovering over the frozen water. It reminded him that they were but weeks away from the Starlight Celebration, when all of Bastok would be covered in brilliant decorations. Moogles would be out recruiting smilebringers to perform random acts of kindness, and children would stay up all night, hoping to catch a glimpse of the red-suited Galka Black Bear as he dashed from house to house, delivering presents to good girl and boys.

None of the thoughts could bring a smile to Emblim's face. They only served to remind him of the demonic blight infesting his homeland. Instead of enjoying the cold air which was such a rarity in Bastok, they would be freezing in the streets. He could picture his people, huddled together, trying to steal a moment of rest from the Kindred slavemasters driving them. His stomach turned as a the thought struck him like a physical blow.

"Gil for your thoughts?"

Emblim turned in surprise to find Erilan leaning against a rock formation behind him. His armor discarded, he instead wore a thick cloak and leather gloves, with a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. Unlike many of the Bastokans now staying here, the San d'Orians were more than prepared for Rabao's nights, as the oasis town was property of the kingdom and a popular destination for its gentry.

"The Starlight Celebration," Emblim replied after a moment, turning back to the view. "It looks like it won't be happening this year."

The other Paladin lowered his head, arms folded across his chest. "Have you ever been to San d'Oria during the festival?" He saw Emblim's silent reaction, shaking his head. "No? It's quite a spectacle. A magical time, one might say. We spend weeks preparing for it every year, and the celebration lasts for days. The Moogles can barely keep up with the demand for smilebringers. Everybody laughing and singing in the streets, the Cathedral . . . well, the Bishop can probably tell you what services are like during this time. And if we get an early snow, it makes everything that much more breathtaking a sight." He lifted his head again, breath misting as he admired the same view Emblim was watching. "I'd do anything to have those days back, Emb. I'd fight an army of demons to bring that back to San d'Oria."

Emblim said nothing, but continued to stare out at the dancing lights below. Though Erilan could not see, a smile had touched his lips. He, too, dreamed of bringing the Starlight Celebration back to Bastok.

"I thought you should know," the Elvaan said, leaning forward and drawing his cloak tight, "that woman is awake."

"She is?" He turned with some surprise. "How is she?"

"She's talking. Atreides and Feldin are with her now. Want to go see her?"

"Of course," he replied. "Let's go find out what this is all about."

"Agreed," Erilan began walking forward, descending the path back down into the town. "By the way," he said, looking out the corner of his eye, "there are a few Moogles living here in Rabao. Maybe we should see what their feelings on recruiting a few smilebringers are?"

Emblim tried to restrain his enthusiasm for the idea, but was markedly unsuccessful.

By the time they reached the large brown tent being used for medical treatment, the two had already started planning out how they could make decorations and where to put them. Their rather intense discussion was cut short when a shout rang out as soon as they stepped through into the lantern-lit canvas.

"Captain Emblim!" It was a soft voice to be sure, and one with the distinct accent of Kazham on the vowel sounds. A lovely, lilting note entered in the inflection of his name, and Emblim knew it was a voice he would reocgnize if he had heard it before. So he was immediately sure that he had no idea who this woman was.

"You know me?" He stepped forward to get a closer look at the Mithra.

She pulled the blanket on the cot she was stretched out on closer, looking back and forth from one face to another. Feldin looked nothing more than speculative, whereas Atreides was giving her a comforting smile. Erilan looked at her appraisingly. She had thick locks of red hair over a slim face which matched her slender frame. Her eyes were bright green, and very wide. The San d'Orian raised an eyebrow, using a gloved hand to smooth his hair.

"You were with Those Guys," the name made Emblim's heart skip a beat. "We fought the Steelfleece of Konschtat and you accepted a pearl afterwards. Several times I heard your voice through my pearl."

"You . . . you're a member of Those Guys?"

"I am . . . Eig," she sat up, clutching the blanket closer still. "I do not know how I came to be here. I was with the others, we were being attacked . . . " the distress in her voice was plain. Her eyes were moist as she looked up in alarm. "Lady Odessa! Something happened to Lady Odessa!"

Feldin almost stumbled forward, staring at the Mithra with astonishment. "Odessa?" He exclaimed. The Elvaan's face was intent as he loomed over her, brushing past the Paladins. "Odessa S Canaley, from the village of Myste?"

She shrank under Feldin's scrutiny until Atreides placed a hand on her wrist. The San d'Orian Bishop sat on a simple wicker chair next to her bed, and he directed a hard glare at the sorcerer before turning to Eig.

"Please, do not be worried. We are all friends here. We simply want to know how you came to be with those Anticans."

The Mithra rubbed her eyes, looking around from face to face again. "I . . . I was with Lady Odessa," she glanced at Feldin, but Atreides cut off his question with a glare. "We were in Crawler's Nest, to see the Goblins."

"Wait," Emblim's confusion was plain. "Goblins?"

"Yes," Eig nodded vigorously. "After one of them came to see us in Castle Oztroja . . . "

From there, she recounted exactly what had happened. She told them a story of dragons and demons and a terrible battle in Castle Oztroja. Over their astonishment she told them about the journey to Garlaige Citadel and the rescue of the Jeunoan survivors. To cap off her tale, she told them of the strange messenger whom had come for their leader, Rykoshet, and how after his departure a Goblin had come to plead for help for his ilk, trapped in Crawler's Nest by the Kindred.

"There was a flash of light, I remember," she had reached a point wherein they had just emerged to find one of their comrades murdered, and a pitched battle for survival ensued. "And then I found myself alone, here in the desert." Her voice was weary after recounting the entire story, and her green eyes filled with sadness. "I do not know how long I wandered the sands before exhaustion took me. Then those ants happened upon me and sealed me up in that coffin. Had you not rescued me . . . "

"An accident," Feldin said dismissively. "We routinely eradicate Antican squads which venture too close to Rabao. Should they discover our presence here it would invite disaster."

"Wait, wait," Erilan interjected. "How much of this are we actually about to believe?"

The glare Feldin shot the other San d'Orian was acidic. "Captain, given the string of events which led us here, are you really prepared to dismiss any aspect of this girl's story as implausible?"

Erilan raised his nose, about to respond, before he stopped to think about it. "Alright, point," he conceded.

"I think," Atreides stood, straightening the front of his frock, "that our guest needs some rest. I will send for some food and drink, and then let you sleep for the evening."

"Thank you," she said quietly. "Sir? Do you . . . do you think the others are still alive?"

He smiled down at her magnanimously. "Don't fret over it now, my child. We will talk more when you have recovered your strength."

"Atreides," Feldin protested, "I must know more about - "

"Another time, Feldin," the Bishop's rebuke was quiet yet stern. "It is imperative she rest."

The blond Black Mage's visage darkened, but he did remain silent, pulling the hood of his cloak back over his head. Silently, Atreides motioned for Erilan and Emblim to follow him as he made a quiet withdrawal from the tent.

He rubbed his hands together when they were outside in the cold again, looking up into the cloudless sky above. "Thank Altana the darkness engripping Quon has not reached this far," he intoned. "One can still enjoy the silver light of the moon."

"I do not appreciate my questioning being denied, Bishop," Feldin growled as he stepped into the cold. "If Odessa of Myste is alive we must make every effort to locate her and - "

"We are bound here, Feldin, you are well aware of this."

"But if she is truly in Oztroja then a simple teleportation spell - !"

Atreides sank his hands into his sleeves. "You will not leave here Feldin, and nor shall I. We have made it our responsibility to safeguard Rabao as an eventual settling place for the survivors of San d'Oria. Until that job is done, we will remain true to our duty. Have you forgotten duty, sorcerer?"

Feldin rankled visibly at the accusation, his lip curling back in anger. "Your goddess will be scant protection from my ire, priest," he warned.

"She and I will remember that." He turned his attention to Emblim, his expression softening. "Well Captain, what do you think?"

Taken off-guard by the question, Emblim looked back at the tent momentarily, and Atreides nodded to confirm he was speaking of Eig. "It's an incredible story, but we have no reason to think she's lying." He rubbed a hand through his thick raven hair, still struggling to wrap his head around it. "Those Guys made it through the cataclysm, and are living with the Yagudo. It's incredible."

"You've met this Rykoshet guy," Erilan said, "does all this sound like something he'd be capable of?"

Emblim thought back to the tall, brooding, remarkably skilled Elvaan who led the storied linkshell. "Very possibly," he confirmed. "When I met him he . . . he left a distinct impression. He cares very much about the linkshell, they're like a family to him. It goes the other way, too. They would follow him wherever he led." He nodded finally, putting it all together in his head. "If they did survive the initial invasion, as Eig says, then I have no doubt they would have found a way to endure everything since."

"Well if that part is true, we can assume the rest - the Jeunoans, the Goblins - all that is, also."

"Yes," Atreides agreed with Erilan. "Which tells me, Captain, that perhaps it is time you once again spoke with our friend Cid."


It had been three weeks now since Bastok's Chief Engineer had hastily explained his plan to enter Quicksand Caves. Many of the details remains shrouded in mystery, he was only insistant that they follow his command. In the intervening time, so much had come up in regards to managing the enormous Bastokan camp and providing for both the refugees and the actual denizens of Rabao that there had scarce been time to pursue it. Not only that, but with the sheer number of Anticans always drifting near the town, he was constantly having to ensure none of them drifted so close as to discover them. Whatever schemes Cid had conceived, implementing them had not been much of a possibility by this point.

Which was not to say Cid himself had not been occupied. Emblim found him inside his soot-black tent, thick goggles strapped over his eyes as he pored over a stack of parchment scrolls three feet long or more. His iron-gray hair poked out from behind one of the sheafs he was examining, muttering to himself as he simultaneously took notes with his left hand and drew lines on the paper with the right.

"Shut the damn tent flap," he said without looking up as Emblim entered. "Karst has got me workin' on this blasted water pump day in an' out." With an unintelligible grumble, he tore his goggles from his head and glanced up. "It's you," he grunted. "What is it, Emb? I've got a lot on my plate."

"Good to see you too, Chief." Emblim put his hands on his hips, looking around the tent with mild curiousity. Save for a thin cot in the corner, the canvas was stacked up to the pointed roof with books, scrolls, bits of machinery, and half-finished devices Cid had discarded.

"You come to make small talk or did you want something?" The stress of maintaining the population in an space which was never meant to hold so many people was largely on Cid's shoulders. Foremost in his concerns was making sure they could draw enough water from the lake to sustain everyone, and this endeavor had occupied much of his
time.

"Yes," he took a step forward, catching himself before putting his boot down on anything breakable. "We found this girl, and - well, it's a long story,"

"Emb!" Cid's rasping voice was impatient. "The point! Get to it!"

"Quicksands Caves, Chief." He could literally see Cid's interest in the visit dramatically increase. "I want to know more about what - "

A gust of cold air caught him from behind. Turning suddenly, he was surprised to find Etrien entering the tent. A glance told him something was amiss. The young Warrior's face was ashen, and there was fear in his eyes.

"Captain," he gripped at Emblim's arms, "Captain!"

"Hold on, Etrien, what is it?" He grabbed on to his shoulders, steadying him. "Get ahold of yourself. What's happening?"

The Hume swallowed deeply, forcing himself to calm down. Emblim was shocked to see how upset he was. Something had seriously spooked the young man.

"Captain, they told me to get you right away," his voice quaked. "Scouts . . . scouts just reported back."

"What is it, Etrien? What's so important?"

He was shocked to see Etrien's face, pale as the moon. "There's a demon with the Anticans, Captain." He swallowed hard. "There's a Demon Lord."

Chapter LCIV: Taking Charge

"Danienne, get down here," Rykoshet shouted as he burst into the main hall of Oztroja. "Anybody and everybody outside the castle walls, return immediately. Raidom, get Wolfgang immediately. And above all," he paused before speaking into his linkshell again, "nobody panic."

Confusion was beginning to spiral out of control around him. Soldiers were scrambling around the castle trying to find a superior officer. Civilians looked for their children and loved ones, gathering up their valuables and seeking safety. Some Yagudo were angrily arguing with one another about following Altanan orders now, something which he knew he had to head off immediately. As he purposefully strode past a clutch of the birdmen, he grabbed one he recognized by the arm, pulling him away.

"You're Huu Xalmo, right?"

The Yagudo pulled away, surprisingly powerful despite his thin arms. "I am Huu Xalmo the Savage, Champion of Yagudo," he declared firmly. The beastman was big, taller even than Rykoshet, and he folded his arms with a menacing stare. "What is the meaning of - "

"Listen, there's an army heading this way and we have every reason to believe it's being sent here by the same demons that attacked Oztroja. I need a strong Yagudo to rally the rest so that they can get revenge for last time. You've been working with Danienne, right?"

"I - "

"Good, then you know all the soldiers. You're my man. Spread the word, champion, the Yagudo are going to have their chance to get even."

Huu Xalmo, whom only moments before had been discussing defying his authority, appeared greatly conflicted. Rykoshet was not naive enough to think the Yagudo would not leap at the chance to overthrow the new rulers of Castle Oztroja. Fortunately, they were bound by strict rules of honor - the same rules by which he had taken over the fortress in the first place. That honor demanded the Kindred pay in blood for the Yagudo lives lost during their initial attack. After a few anguished seconds of internal debate, Huu Xalmo's priorities settled into place. He clapped a fist against his heart, staring down at the Elvaan.

"I shall prepare the Yagudo for war and await further command." He confirmed. From the corner of his eye, Rykoshet could see the clutch of birdmen he had been talking with exchange glances and whispers. Someone of Huu Xalmo's status in their society would not be questioned lightly.

Rykoshet respectfully returned the salute. "Good. Once all the Yagudo soldiers have been alerted, bring the top commanders to see me. We'll start planning things from there." The Yagudo nodded, and they turned almost simultaneously to pursue their respective duties. It took him three powerful strides before he collided with Danienne.

Both Dark Knights staggered backwards, Danienne tumbling over into a heap of black hair and armor. Rykoshet escaped with only some arm-flailing, and after a desperate but successful attempt to regain his balance he extended the Hume a hand. She clasped it, pulling herself up and dusting off in the midst of the horde of people running directionless around them.

"Is what Celeres said true?" She asked without preamble. "Are we under attack?"

He shook his head. "We don't know anything yet but we can't take chances. Right now we need to get everybody inside the castle, especially Icon. We need to hear everything he saw."

"I've tried contacting him, he's not answering his linkpearl," she tapped her own, which she had attached as an earring. "We have to assume the worst, Rykoshet, and start making preparations."

Grimly, Rykoshet accepted the truth of her words. "I know, you're right. Go and get your divisions in order. Decay," he took hold of his linkshell as he called the Red Mage's name, "get up here."

"What's going on?" The Hume's angry voice shot back.

"Staff meeting," he replied. "Attendance is mandatory. Tear yourself away from your rock and come to the central hall." He set the shell down against his chest, looking back at Danienne. "Let's get on top of this one. I'll round everybody up, you make sure the castle is ready for an attack."

"You've got it, boss," she affirmed, breaking away at a brisk pace into the depths of Oztroja. Rykoshet did the same, heading up the stairs while touching two fingers to his linkshell once again.

"Bael," he said into it, "meet me at outside my room." He rushed up the flight of stone steps, throwing off his cloak. He tore through the buttons on the linen shirt he was wearing, trying to tug it off over his head simultaneously. When he halted at the door to his room, Baeladar was already there, raising an eyebrow at the undressing Elvaan.

"While I am flattered you requested me, you will have to look elsewhere for a concubine," he told him. "I imagine sirs Atin and Esane are rather lonesome in their - "

"Can it Bael, I'm getting into my armor," he threw open the door to his chamber and stepped inside, tossing his shirt on the floor. "You should, too."

The Elvaan smoothed out the front of the silk doublet he was wearing, a rich San d'Orian red with the crest of Baeladar's family dyed into the left sleeve. "Rykoshet," he clasped his hands behind his back, "I hate to interrupt the panic you all seem set on, but I should point out we have practically no proper intelligence on our situation." He started to object, but the Paladin's hand shot up to cut him off. "We have a one-sentence report with no details attached at all. We must do our own reconaissance before we act rashly."

"Can we really afford to take chances?" Yanking the tightly-linked black chainmail shirt into place, he began struggling with his hauberk. "Odessa said she saw people out there, with the demons. If they had some way of knowing where she teleported to, they could have followed - "

"A plausible scenario, yes, but one we cannot be certain of."

"Look," he finally managed to squeeze his head through the armor, shifting his shoulders to settle it into place. "If there's nothing to it, we'll call it a drill and be none the worse for the wear. But right now we know there's an army coming our way, and the last time I checked," he clenched his fingers, hands now enveloped by thick gauntlets, "there aren't many armies out there still friendly to people like us."

"Hmph." Baeladar's thoughts were imperceptible from his expression. "Very well. However, be that as it may, I still request we send scouts into the field to be sure of what we face."

Struggling to pull his greaves on, Rykoshet nodded dismissively. "Fine, we'll send Betrayil, but this isn't what I called you here for."

"Oh?"

"No. Let's just assume for the sake of this conversation that this is a worst-case scenario. I need a floorplan for the entire castle and details on all of our available units. We have to know where we're strong and where we need the most support. And I'm not the only one who needs this. The Yagudo will know things about the castle we don't. We're going to hammer out the best defense we can." He stood, twisting about as he searched for his mantle. Seeing it sticking out from underneath a pile of coats, he yanked out the length of stout fabric and settled it over his shoulders. Baeladar stood where he was, watching the scene without reaction. "Well?" Rykoshet demanded.

"I am just waiting for my leader to dismiss me," he said with aplomb.

He rolled his dark eyes. "Come on Bael, don't drag your feet."

The Paladin offered a wry smile. "Simply a comment on how well you fit the role. I am off, please alert sir Betrayil to come see me as soon as he returns to the castle."

Rykoshet shot him an acidic glare, but the Paladin was already on his way out. Grumbling, he threw open the door of his closet, looking at the rack of weapons staring back at him. Tzee Xicu's enormous spear was there, and he reached for it, recognizing the authority behind it. His hand hesistated as he got near it. Instead, he took hold of a massive great sword, pulling the weapon from the hooks holding it up and strapping it across his back. He turned to look in the mirror, ruffled his hair a bit, and then strode from the room at a march.

When he reached the central hall, people were gathering in large groups as word spread. Jeunoans were occupying most of the space, but the Yagudo were encircling the periphery, waiting to see what happened. Rykoshet began walking towards them, but was headed off by an angry mass of red. He stopped short as Decay planted his feet in front of him, fists on his hips. The Red Mage looked gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes and a face unshaven for days.

"When was the last time you ate something?" He asked before anything else.

"If you called me up here to complain about my diet, I'll . . . " Decay stopped, rubbing his hand against the stubble on his face and taking a breath. "Look, I can't afford to take a break right now. This better be good."

"We just received word from Icon that there's an army heading this way."

"Keep them out of the caverns," he replied.

"Obviously we want to keep them out of the entire castle. That's not the point. Have you found anything yet? Anything we can use to defend ourselves?"

Decay shook his head. "I've found out a lot but nothing like that. I don't even know if it can be used that way."

Rykoshet was confused. "If it's not dangerous, why are you spending so much time researching it?"

"Did I say it wasn't dangerous? That thing puts out more power by itself every day than all the mages here combined could muster in a week. I knew when I started that magicite could store memories, but I didn't know the extent. There might be thousands of years worth of events recorded on that stone, Rykoshet, and any one of them might detail something which would be catastrophic."

"Fantastic," he rubbed his forehead in irritation. "Alright, you're exempt from this meeting. Go back to studying, but keep in mind that you're now also on guard duty."

"Sure, fine," Decay waved his hand dismissively, already turning away.

"And Decay!" Rykoshet shouted, freezing the Hume in his tracks. "This order becomes effective after you get something to eat and take a nap." Decay raised his voice, but the imposing Elvaan stepped forward, his face darkening. "If this stone is as dangerous as you say, I need the people watching it on top of their game. You won't guard anything if you're half-dead. Now get to it."

Brushing past the angry glare he received, Rykoshet strode forward into the growing crowd. At the head of the congregation, he saw Huu Xalmo and Wolfgang in conversation. Raidom was with the Jeunoan, and Mee Deggi and Quu Domi stood with their own commander. All stopped and looked up as the Elvaan approached.

"These linkpearls of yours spread bad news quickly," Wolfgang noted.

"Better to have it now than be taken by surprise." Rykoshet looked over the assembled soldiers. "You know the situation as well as I do right now. I need your recommendations on how to proceed. Don't pretend you weren't talking about that before I got here."

Wolfgang stepped forward first. The air of authority the diminuitive Jeunoan carried with him offset the difference in height between them. "We should prepare for battle right away. Muster all of our forces, seal up the castle, and wait for them to show themselves."

"Feh," Mee Deggi grunted, "this is no battle plan. The Yagudo fight our enemy on the field, like warriors."

"Still your beak," Huu Xalmo commanded. "This is no skirmish against the Federation. They intend the extermination of our species." The big Yagudo's flashing eyes settled on Rykoshet. "It is as the Jeunoan says. Also, I recommend we . . . " he seemed to hesitate, glancing towards his two compatriots, but then resolutely stated " . . . we should send an emissary to the Yagudo of Giddeus and request their aid."

Quu Domi let out a squawk, and Mee Deggi looked incredulous. "That is sacrelige, Savage!" The former protested.

"This battle concerns all Yagudo whom defy the yoke of servitude to a false god," Huu Xalmo puffed his chest out threateningly. "We have put aside our differences with these Altanans for the sake of this battle, can we do less for our own brothers?"

The smaller Yagudo looked sullen. "Long has Oztroja distanced itself from the zealots of Giddeus. This will not be well-received."

Huu Xalmo's visage darkened. "Its reception will be better than the one we shall give the demons."

"Let's hold off on that." They turned back to Rykoshet, surprised he was still there. "We don't know the size or strength of our enemy yet. If we can handle this ourselves we should do so. Besides, we have no way of knowing if the Yagudo of Giddeus are still there, or if they're on our side."

"What are you saying?" Mee Deggi snapped.

"Just because you refused to join with Dynamis doesn't mean all the Yagudo did. Tzee Xicu doesn't hold authority over Giddeus, does she? So her order wouldn't extend to them. If they came to you, we can reasonably guess that they approached the other beastmen as well."

"And if they did refuse," Raidom spoke up, "the caves of Giddeus are not nearly as strong a defense against the Kindred as the halls of Oztroja. They would be easy prey."

Long glances shifted between the three Yagudo. The topic was clearly making them uncomfortable.

"We'll make a decision when we know more, which will hopefully be soon." Rykoshet changed the subject as quickly as possible. "Right now we have to decide what we're doing with the people already here. I've heard keep everyone inside and let them come to us. I like that, we're going with it." He took a glance around at the chaos brewing around their tiny gathering. A crushing weight of responsibility settled on his shoulders suddenly, and he tried hard not to appear physically pressed down. "First things first, let's put a stop to all of this," he gestured towards the glut of people milling about in various states of confusion. "Gather everyone together, I'll address them and get things settled. Can we do that in an hour?"

"We will make it so," Huu Xalmo pledged for his two underlings.

"Likewise," Wolfgang folded his hands behind his back. "Lieutenant, organize the soldiers." Raidom saluted before rushing off to obey the order. "Rykoshet, I'll speak bluntly here," he said after his sub-commander was out of sight, "this is likely going to be difficult and I don't very much trust you."

"So?"

"So the first sign I see that you're not capable of protecting the people of Jeuno, there's going to be a shake-up in the ranks here."

Rykoshet narrowed his eyes. "Right. Just make sure you hold up your end, Wolfgang. Meet back here in an hour. Dismissed."

Before they could say anything else, he had turned away from them. He grasped his linkshell, the sound of chatter instantly filling his ears. "Betrayil," he growled into it, "you better be listening to this."

The other voices went silent momentarily. He awaited a response for as long as his patience held, which was not long in the current situation. "Whatever you're doing, stop it. Drag Hiraiko back if you have to, but get back to the castle and report to Baeladar immediately. Danienne, where do you stand?"

"Ready to go here, boss," the Dark Knight's voice replied. "Just waiting on Wolfgang's division."

"Raidom's on his way to round them up. Come to the central hall. That goes for everybody who can hear this, and tell the ones who can't. We've got decisions that concern us all." He let go of his shell and stopped in place, trying to collect his thoughts. This was unavoidable, they all knew it. From the moment they took up residence in Oztroja, it was foolish to think they wouldn't be made to defend it one day. Now that day was here. Despite what Baeladar said, he was certain, as they all were, that it was an enemy army heading their way. If it was anything else Icon would have come back with them instead of sending word ahead. No, this was trouble.

He was pacing back and forth, lost in thought, when he stumbled and fell forward. He laid sprawled out on the ground for a moment, grumbling into the stone, before tearing himself free.

"Who - " his angered shout died in his throat.

"Watch where you walk you, you . . . ugly, pink-skinned twit!"

Rykoshet stared mutely at the Goblin, but it was doing enough talking for the both of them.

"What kind of greeting is this?! You Altanans!" It made a spitting sound from beneath the brown air filtering mask it wore, squinting its eyes behind its goggles. "After I haul my poor bones all the way here from Crawler's Nest, through those yellow-eyed nasties, with plenty of gobbie-eating monsters trying to suck the succulent skin from my bones . . . "

"Wait, wait - " the Elvaan started to pick himself up off the ground. "You came from Crawler's Nest?"

"Are those ears for show?!" It stamped up and down. "Where's Antiqix? Where's that other dhalmel-necked girl, Odessa? She brought us here! Is this any kind of way to welcome - "

Rykoshet pressed a hand against its mask, and it stared furiously at him as its words were cut of. Slowly, he stood up, peering down at the dwarfish beastman fuming up at him.

"You're one of the Goblins from Crawler's Nest." He said it again.

"What are you, an Orc? How many times do I have to repeat myself?"

"We got in touch with you three weeks ago! We thought you'd been wiped out by the demons!"

"Pfah!" The creature kicked dust up onto Rykoshet's armor. "As if they could find our hiding places! It just took us longer to sneak around, especially since they've gone and put that big stupid army in between there and here."

Rykoshet blinked at him several times. "An army."

"I'm not repeating myself again!" It jumped up and down angrily.

"No, no, it's okay, I just - " he stopped, peering at the stunted beastman. "Who let you in here?"

"I told your gate guard that Odessa sent for us and he opened the doors for me. He didn't ask nearly so many stupid questons."

"Us?"

"The Goblins! Two thousand, four hundred and eighty-three Goblins promised shelter and protection from the demons! Although from the number of them coming this way, I'd say you're going to be hard-pressed to keep that promise!" It snorted at him, folding its arms. "Who's in charge here? I don't have time to talk to some clueless underling. Where's Odessa?"

"Wait!" Rykoshet kneeled to eye level with the fuming beastman. "Are the other Goblins out there too?"

It made a noise from its throat that might have been a chuckle. "'Course not, they're waiting for me to give them the signal that you Altanans are on the up-and-up."

"Okay, okay." His mind was moving quickly. "What's your name?"

"Lootblix," he responded, "are you going to take me to Odessa or not?"

"Of course I will, Lootblix. She'll be here in a few minutes, actually. In the meantime, can you tell me everything you know about this army you saw?"

"Fah, I suppose." The creature grumbled. Leaning in, Rykoshet listened intently as the stubby beastman went into detail about what exactly was in store for them.

It was less than an hour later Rykoshet found himself standing before the assembled might of the Yagudo and the Jeunoans, with all the members of Those Guys in attendance, informing them that war was coming their way.

Chapter LCIII: Winter Closes In

"You know who I miss?" Danienne asked, leaning back in her chair as her boots rested upon the table. "I miss Tensaiji."

The others in the war room glanced her way, each looking up from their individual tasks. Baeladar, Odessa, and Rykoshet each looked at the Dark Knight, then at each other. While the room had been silent before, it was due only to each being lost in their own thoughts. Now it felt more pronounced as they struggled to find something to say. In the long months which had passed since the invasion of Dynamis into Vana'diel, they had seldom spoken of the comrades they lost.

Baeladar broke the silence, clearing his throat and slowly closing the cover on the heavy tome he had been perusing. "Yes," he said quietly at first, but then louder, "yes, Tensaiji was quite a skilled Ninja. His talents are sorely missed."

"Nah, I'm not talking about that, Bael." Danienne leaned forward, her feet stomping down on the ground as she swept them off the table. "I mean his personality. That guy was too much. And what was the name of that goof that was always tagging along with him?"

"Heikujin," Odessa said, a faint smile on her lips. "Sometimes that guy didn't know one end of his sword from the other, but he and Tensaiji together were like a comedy duo. Always . . ." she trailed off.

"Ahh, I miss having that around." Danienne rested her arms against the table now, staring off into space. "Everyone is so grim these days. Having Tensaiji around would sure be a welcome change."

"Or Kayana," Baeladar added. "Everything was a new opportunity to that woman, a chance to explore and discover something unknown. I freely admit, my research would be greatly aided by her expertise. She would no doubt see this entire event as a . . . as a great experiment."

"And Demyn," Danienne gave a chortle, "how could we forget Demyn? I can't believe he's not around anymore. Hey, did you know his real name is "Bongo?"

"What?" Odessa sat straight up in her chair. "Where did you hear that?"

"He told me once when he was drunk. He and Forge were out celebrating after that time we took down that gigantic beetle in Batallia Downs and he let it slip."

"My, that was ages ago, it seems," Baeladar mused. "Not very long after we all first got together."

"Yeah . . . " Danienne's smile began to fade, and silence crept in once more. "We sure lost a lot of friends, didn't we? A lot of people . . . "

"Stop that," they all looked up as Rykoshet spoke. Unlike the other three, he was standing perched by the room's sole window, gazing outside. He turned his head to face them, dark eyes glittering. "I told you what Fill said. We're not alone. There are others out there, survivors like us, and I have to believe that our friends are among them." He returned his gaze to the contemplation of Meriphataud Mountains. "We'll find them. I'm certain of it."

Though he knew it was just past noon, the skies outside were darker than late evening. The sun was frustratingly visible behind the pall of Dynamis, almost totally hidden behind the impenetrable veil. It hung in the sky, a gray blob providing scant warmth and less light to the planet starving for its attention below. With winter settling in, they were in for a harsh time as the temperatures began to fall. Already frost was forming on the rocks outside, and what vegetation there was had shriveled up. The hot and dusty landscape they had come to all those months ago was slowly transforming into a frozen waste.

Rykoshet stared for quite some time out at nothing before turning away. The view was depressing, and there was quite enough of that to be had indoors. Unconsciously, his eyes fell on Odessa. She was buried in a musty textbook which had been brought by the Jeunoans, hiding her face. The whole time he had known her, that smooth and lineless face, marked by classical Elvaan features, had borne little more upon it than a half-amused smirk or a twist of annoyance. In the weeks since her excursion to Crawler's Nest, however, it was instead marred by barely suppressed pain.

With the discussion of lost companions brought up, he knew she was once again thinking about Middlesky and Eig.

"So," he cleared his throat, bringing their attention to him again, "what have we found out today?"

"Precious little, I am afraid," Baeladar closed the book he was reading, setting it down on the table. "Those volumes which even do mention Dynamis only do so in terms of myth. I have found no existing accounts of actual research into the realm."

Danienne let the pages of the book she was reading fold over one finger to maintain her place. "Darkness, demons; all of this tells us nothing we don't already know."

"Then why," Rykoshet hammered his fists down on the stone table, "why would anyone do this?" He directed the question at no one in particular. "What's the point? What's the goal?"

"We've been at this for weeks," Odessa rubbed her eyes, leaning her head into her hands. They all shared the same consternation. "Whatever they hope to gain, it's not written in any of these books."

It was true. After the events at Pso'Xja, they had attacked the Yagudo library. Everything the Beastmen had to offer up on Dynamis was brought to them, as well as the few books which had been brought with the Jeunoan refugees. The four of them had worked tirelessly, pouring over the tomes in a relentless search for the slightest clue as to their malefactor's goal. Despite all their efforts, they were no closer to finding out the truth now than they had been when they started. The only difference is now they had lost two good friends.

Three, Rykoshet reminded himself, remembering that day weeks ago when his Master had arrived and taken Battousai away.

No sooner had they returned from Pso'Xja than their Master appeared, miraculously surviving the chaotic ordeal sweeping the land. It was no joyful reunion, however. His demands and the urgency behind them were severe. In the end, it was decided that Battousai would accompany him in his mission, and thus Rykoshet's brother bid farewell to them all and left Oztroja behind.

In all the time since then, it felt like they had done nothing but wait. No new clues, no messages from the outside. Only constant study, all the while feeling like caged rats. It was maddening.

"Alright, put the books away." He wearily pulled a chair out and slumped down next to Odessa. "We're getting nowhere. Maybe I'll go talk to Fill again and see if he's found anything . . . "

Baeladar scoffed. "You will forgive me, I'm sure, if I am skeptical of our friend the North Wind's desire to aid us at this point. It seems all the man has done since his arrival here is putter about the castle making small talk." The Paladin rubbed his hands together, his eyes hooded. "I highly doubt he will be a font of new information."

"Rykoshet's right, though," Danienne leaned back in her chair again, looking out the window. "We aren't getting anything accomplished here. We all have other duties to attend to. Decay and Konstantine can take over for us here and let us know if they come up with anything."

"Decay's in the lower chamber with the Magicite, though," Odessa reminded her. "He's been spending all his time trying to find a way to utilize it ever since . . . " she halted, biting her lip. "Ever since I . . . "

They all knew what she was trying to say. Ever since she returned from Crawler's Nest.

"Odessa," Rykoshet reached out his hand towards her shoulder. He was just about to console her when they all leaped at the sound of the door bursting open.

A crushing wave of sheer malevolence hit them so hard that Danienne made a short retching sound, and Odessa physically doubled over. Baeladar drew his sword, aiming it at the door as the tide of hatred passed over them.

"What is this - " Rykoshet demanded, and then stopped short, letting out a scream.

Vile stood in the doorway, looking at the four of them with a distinctly unamused expression.

"Aren't you all just hi-goddamn-larious." He stepped into the room, slamming the door behind him with a gust of arcane wind. The other four, in the process of sitting back down, stopped where they were.

"Vile," Odessa breathed, "you can speak!"

The Tarutaru rubbed his throat with an annoyed expression. When they had returned from their adventure in the frozen north, his vocal cords had been severely damaged by the same fire which had burned most of his body. In the time since then he had said nothing, staying mostly in his room and opening the door only to receive food. Though he wore his customary thick black robes, Rykoshet could still see traces of the burns he suffered beneath his collar. Several times Lethe had attempted to heal him, only to be turned away brusquely by the Tarutaru.

"Yeah, I can, so shut up," he marched towards the table, stopping in front of Baeladar and staring at him. The Elvaan shifted uncomfortably in his chair for a moment, trying to avoid Vile's eyes. After a moment he stood, extending the seat to the sorcerer.

"Ah, won't you sit down, Vile?" He smiled.

The Tarutaru climbed into the seat, standing up so he could see over the table and slapping his palms down upon it. "So? What have you found out?"

Rykoshet scowled at him. "We would have told you if anything came up. Don't antagonize us."

"Hmph," he frowned. "Then I'll tell you what they're after."

"What?" Odessa nearly fell out of her chair, and Danienne's eyes went wide. "You mean you know?"

"There was a person there," Vile stated darkly. "What did you idiots think happened? I tripped into a snowbank made of fire? I got into a fight."

"Who could do that to you?" Danienne's question was a legitimate one. Vile was undoubtedly one of the most powerful mages walking Vana'diel. The thought of another wizard being able to best him in magical combat was practically unheard of.

Vile's lip curled back into a snarl of revulsion. "His name is Attack. He's the one who killed our Master, twenty years ago."

"Our" Master?" Baeladar raised an eyebrow at the statement.

"The useless shit wasn't smart enough to learn, so he took some shortcuts," Vile avoided directly answering the Paladin's question, and wisely, nobody pressed the issue. "So I can tell you if he's involved then whatever the method, the end result is power. Personal power, the kind you can wield against others and feel in your blood. If it were anything else, he wouldn't be involved."

"Hmm," this time, Baeladar's look was far off, and a finger and thumb pressed against his chin in contemplation. "That does little to bring us closer to the truth, I'm afraid. If there were some degree of power to be gained by releasing Dynamis, our research has turned up no hint as to what that might be."

"It's something," Rykoshet pushed his seat back, standing and facing Vile. "And that's more than we had before. Thank you, Vile."

"Just remember," the Tarutaru said warningly, "when it comes down to it, I'm the one who gets to kill Attack."

"Permission granted." Running a hand through his blond hair, Rykoshet drew his hands down behind his back. "I'm going to take this to Fill and see if it changes anything. Meeting dismissed." Pausing at the door, he took his heavy fur cloak down from where it had been hanging. "If you need me, you know how to get in touch." With a wink, he held up the linkshell strung around his neck.

The recovery of their lost shell had been an instant boost to morale. In addition to the obvious tactical advantages it provided, simply being connected in that way once more brought the entire group closer. Just by touching the shell, Rykoshet could hear there were conversations going back and forth throughout the castle. It was a reminder of how things had been before the catastrophic invasion of Dynamis, and a welcome one. Having their linkpearls back made everyone feel that much more like a family.

Stepping out of the war room, he shivered against the chill wind which assailed him. The tower the room was in could only be accessed by way of a bridge linking it to the castle proper. Winter's teeth bit into him as he drew his cloak tighter around his shoulders. Without sunlight, the weather went from poor to unbearable. It was with relief that he reached the steps leading back down into Oztroja's stone walls, and the torchlight within.

His mind drifted momentarily to his brother, and he wondered where he was in the midst of all this misery. Quickly, he dispelled such thoughts. It didn't matter where he went as long as their Master was with him. That was a guarantee to his safety.

Before too long, Rykoshet was back amongst the regular hustle and bustle which had become a part of daily life in Oztroja. Despite the enormity of the castle, activity had found its way to nearly every part of it. Soldiers patrolled the halls, going to or from one drill to the next. Regular citizens gathered around the outdoor areas to converse or let their children play. Some visited the clutches of stalls bunched together, as commerce had found away to survive the cataclysm. Merchants amongst the Jeunoan refugees along with Yagudo traders had begun consorting almost immediately after the rescue from Garlaige Citadel. Now the walls were lined with roughly constructed booths where all kinds of merchandise was displayed. Though gil was still acceptable from those who had it, barter systems had come to dominate the tiny business world of Castle Oztroja. With the weather turning bad, many were starting to shut down their uncomfortable outdoor stands, choosing instead to move inside the castle itself.

Walking past the central hall, he caught sight of Liyah and Darutaru together with a group of wide-eyed children, demonstrating the use of magic. A few of them tried to emulate their teachers without any luck, save for a Yagudo fledgling that was able to make a spark fly from its fingers. Upon doing so, however, it leaped back with a cry, despite the other children marveling at its ability. There were Elvaan and Hume children and a single young Galka sitting and learning alongside Yagudo. The sight made him smile, if only a little.

This was not the only exchange of culture. It was not uncommon these days to find General Wolfgang and Lieutenant Raidom sharing strategy sessions with Quu Domi and Mee Deggi. Konstantine had begun attending regular sermons by Daa Bola the Seer, learning more about the Yagudo religion. Not only that, but afterwards the White Mage would often gather with religious scholars from both Jeuno and Oztroja and host sessions in which common ground between Altanan philosophy and the Yagudo scriptures was discussed. Fated sometimes attended these when he wasn't busy training with the strict and unforgiving Yagudo Ascetics, they at least seeming unconcerned with the weather.

Through his linkshell, he could hear Celeres, somewhere in the castle, sharing bawdy jokes with Atin and Esane. He felt somewhat sorry for the latter two. Decay had insisted guards be posted around the magicite around the clock, and in an act of charity he was sure they came to regret, they volunteered. Now for a third of each day they waited and watched the Red Mage stare at a rock and take notes. It was hardly the most appealing job in the world, but Rykoshet supposed they could take solace in the fact that they were safe, at least.

Betrayil and Hiraiko he knew he would not see. Since their return from Pso'Xja, the Summoner spent almost all of her time training with the Astral Signa or in the dungeon, talking with Tzee Xicu. Her change in attitude since the adventure made her seem like an entirely different person. Betrayil was never far from her side, and together they often vanished into the mountains for days at a time. He hoped that situation would work out for the best, but for now it was just something he had to tolerate in the face of so much else going on.

Moving away from the central hub of the castle, Rykoshet made his way up the long stone stairs which led to Fill's room. He had, naturally, selected one of the highest towers of Oztroja as his residence. He did, as Baeladar had bemoaned, spend most of his time wandering aimlessly, conversing with random people in the Castle. He might one day be engrossed in conversation with Doctor Monbereaux for hours about medicine, and then the next appear in the mess hall to talk with thirty different people about meatballs. One thing was certain; the North Wind was as enigmatic as ever.

To his surprise, halfway up the stairs to Fill's room, he was greeted by a familiar face.

"Greetings," Lethe lowered his head in welcome. "How does the day find you?"

"Hello, Lethe," he greeted the so-called herald of the Four Winds. "I'm surviving."

"You are fortunate," the blond-bearded man observed. "You are searching for the North Wind, are you not?"

"Yes, did he tell you that? One of his premonitions told him I'd come to visit him today? Or did the wind whisper it to him as soon as I made the decision?"

"You were touching your linkshell when you made the announcement," Lethe told him, pointing to the pink shell strung about his neck. "Everybody heard you say it."

"Oh," he looked down at the tiny object, strung around its leather cord. "Right, I'm uh, still kind of not used to having it back."

Lethe allowed a smile to touch his lips. "Think nothing of it. Lord Fill asked me to escort you to him. Come," folding his arms inside the voluminous sleeves of his white robes, he turned. "Follow me."

Fill was not in his room, sparing an arduous climb up the spiraling stairs of Castle Oztroja. To Rykoshet's chagrin, however, he was outside, smiling as the freezing winds assailed him. Standing on a bridge between towers like the one outside the war room, the North Wind waited as the wind blew through his thick brown beard, the folds of his elaborate green robes brushing back and forth. When he saw Rykoshet approaching, he gave a broad smile, extending his arms in welcome.

"Fabulous day today, is it not?" He asked as the Elvaan struggled to wrap his cloak around him like a blanket. "If only there were a bit more sun, it would be perfect."

"It's miserable," Rykoshet said bluntly. "I don't suppose you could do anything about this, could you?"

"The wind moves as the wind wants, Rykoshet," the wizard replied. "I'd sooner try to stop the tides or quell a raging volcano."

"Both of those things were done recently, according to Lethe," Rykoshet jabbed a finger at the herald, then immediately drew it back inside the confines of his cloak.

"And they were disastrous! I'd very much hate to be the one responsible once the South Wind gets his hands on them."

"The South Wind?" He blinked, looking back and forth from Fill to Lethe.

"Of course, but he's a topic for another time. The winds tell me you have something to ask." He extended his arms, palms facing the sky. "I shall answer as best I am able."

Vile's words were on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason they seemed substantially less important after his walk through the castle. "In a minute," he said, "first, I have to know; what are you doing here?"

Fill quirked an eyebrow upwards. "I'm afraid I do not understand. Here? I am enjoying the breeze."

"No, here in the Castle. It's been three weeks already and all you've done is wander around Oztroja or stand out in the wind. What are you up to?"

"Up to?" He seemed perplexed, but after a moment realization dawned on his face followed by another smile. "Ah, I see. I am a powerful wizard, and therefore my actions must have powerful meaning, correct? Or if they do not, I am squandering my ability by not using it for the greater good. Am I close to the mark?"

"That is more or less the series of complaints against you, yes." Rykoshet shivered, stamping his feet a few times to get his blood moving. "Don't get me wrong, Fill, you can do whatever you want for all I care. But it's been bothering other people so I figured I would ask."

The North Wind turned away from Rykoshet, staring out into the horizon of Meriphataud Mountains. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as the gusts of frigid air assailed him, whistling through Oztroja's parapets. Opening them again, he was reflective, still watching the landscape as he spoke.

"Before the seals on Dynamis were broken, I lived alone in Pso'Xja. Lethe would travel between my brothers and I and carry messages, but that was the extent of my contact with the outside world. We have no linkshell, we spend no excessive power on communication. We are bound to our work, and that work binds us to our homes. I have been the North Wind since before you were born, since before your Master, likely since before his Master." Slowly, he turned one eye back to Rykoshet, its look speculative. "This is the first time in all those years I have been in a place with so many people and so many things to talk about. This is the first time I have had conversations where I may speak rather than simply listening to the wind. When we restore the seals and turn back this darkness, I will have to return to that place and resume my work. Until that time comes, I intend to enjoy this newfound freedom." For a moment, a hint of sadness touched his serene face. "I had been training Rennie as my replacement, but . . . that is hardly a possibility now."

As he turned back to Rykoshet, his face resumed the light and easy smile it had worn before. "Now then, does that answer your question?"

He nodded. The admission had hardly been what he expected.

"Good, good," Fill folded his hands within his robes, similar to Lethe's stance. "So, what was it you came here to ask me in the first place?"

Rykoshet stared at him for a moment, then shook his head, remembering. "Right, sorry." He recalled Vile's words carefully, and then spoke. "Vile regained his voice today. He came in to tell us what happened to him in Pso'Xja."

"I'd been curious about that," Fill stroked his beard. "He seemed to know more about the situation than I did."

"The one who attacked you . . . well, Attack is his name. And Vile knows him. By "knows him" I mean "wants to kill him."

"Vile knows many people, then." Lethe observed.

"Even so," Fill appeared contemplative. "Attack . . . the winds whispered this to me, but I thought it perhaps simply an objective. So, that was his name. Very well, what does Vile have to say on the matter?"

"They're after power." He stood up a little straighter, the winds not so bad for the moment. "Vile seems to think that if there weren't actual physical power on the line, Attack wouldn't be involved. So whatever the reason for unsealing Dynamis, it has to do with that. Does that give you any kind of clue as to what we're dealing with?"

"Several," the wizard answered. "Dynamis is the World of Nightmares, the realm of Diabolos himself. The revelation at Pso'Xja from your Summoner that Diabolos has left the Shrouded Maw at a time like this has been troubling me. Now I wonder if perhaps even he was imprisoned, as we discovered Fenrir to be."

"Is that even possible?" Rykoshet asked, incredulous.

Fill shook his head. "I can believe anything in these times, and especially of this enemy. In any event, Dynamis is the power of dreams made real. If one were able to harness that . . . well, I will research the matter and let you know my findings. It could very well lead to a clue which reveals their next objective to us."

"Thank you," he nodded, then shuddered as another gust of wind suddenly rushed past. "Alright, that's all I wanted. I'm getting back indoors where it's warm."

"I'm afraid the cold is the least of our worries," Fill said, peering out over the battlements once again. "The wind is speaking."

"What is - " Rykoshet stopped as the linkshell around his neck suddenly pulsed. Startled, he wrapped his hand around it, and instantly Celeres's voice reached his pointed ears.

"Rykoshet?" The Monk was repeating. "Rykoshet, are you there?"

"I can hear you," he spoke into the shell, "what's the problem?"

"We just got a report from the field, Rykoshet," his tone was terse. "There's a hunter here that says Icon sent him. They saw something out there."

"What is it?" He realized he was moving quickly, heading back inside the castle. "Where's Icon? What did he find?"

"Icon's alright, they're all fine, but they're laying low until it's safe." There was a pause and Celeres drew breath, preparing for what he said next. "There's an army out there, Rykoshet. And it's heading this way."

Chapter LCII: Khimairas and Death

During the length of their battle, most of which Jinxie freely admitted she spent running away, she heard a number of sounds from the Khimaira. She had heard the crackle of electricity as it focused energy through its horns. She had heard the slicing of the air as it beat its heavy black wings. She had heard it growl, roar, and howl in ranges from deep and rumbling to loud and piercing. Only now did she hear the noise the Khimaira made when it was in pain.

"Burn," Rughadjeen said softly, holding his dual-bladed sword aloft, "Algol."

Jinxie covered her eyes as a flash of light and heat pulsed from the General's weapon. The Skyserpent's famous blade erupted into flame in his grasp, blue-tinged fire licking the tempered steel as he clutched it in both hands. Springing forward, the Elvaan slashed at the Khimaira, leaving an arch of flames behind him. The beast cried out as Rughadjeen's blade creased its chest, leaving a smoldering trail of burnt flesh in its wake. Angrily, it batted him away, but he caught the strike of its paws with Algol, feet planting in the mud as he resisted the impact. With a mighty heave, he threw the monster's claws back, assuming a defensive stance as he went head-to-head with a creature whose head was as big as his body.

The Khimaira's horns surged with a fresh pulse of electricity, and with a furious toss of its head a torrent of lightning streaked towards Rughadjeen. The Elvaan held up his burning sword, gritting his teeth in preparation for impact. Instead, he was thrown from his feet as an explosion rocked the air in front of him. He fell backwards, but was stopped by the massive hands of the Galka General, Zazarg. An oppressive atmosphere of raw power weighed down upon them as Flameserpent Gadalar crouched forward with his hand outstretched, a burst of his own formidable magic countering the Khimaira's electricity. From his back he withdrew a thin-shafted scythe with a blade of ivory, eyes burning as he glared at the beast.

"Abominations like you have no place in this world," he snarled. The wet ground hardened at his feet as waves of heat began pouring off of him. "Cremate!" The Hume shouted, twirling his scythe forward towards the monster, "White Joker!"

His weapon ignited as he called its name just as Rughadjeen's had, but rather than use it as a striking implement, Gadalar only pointed the scythe towards his target. The Khimaira surged forward, teeth bared, but the Flameserpent remained where he was. Jinxie covered her ears as a booming sound louder than any thunderclap burst from his scythe, and from it cascaded a river of flames. Dirt, mud, and gravel sprayed up as the beast stopped short, too late to stop itself from being bathed in fire. Its howls pierced the inferno, underscoring Gadalar's crazed laughter. The Khimaira vanished from sight entirely, his form blanketed by the General's endless flames.

"Are you alright?" Jinxie was startled to hear a voice addressing her, and looked up to find the Galeserpent, General Najelith, extending her hand. She took it readily, pulling herself out of the mire. She brushed off the front of her dirtied tabard, squinting at the blaze engulfing the Khimaira not far from where they were.

"I'll survive," she answered, "but is that going to be enough to stop that thing?"

Najelith smirked. "Gadalar's just having fun. We haven't even gotten warmed up yet." A moment passed as Jinxie's gaze went flat. "Get it?" The ebon-haired archer asked her. "Warmed up? Because of the fire?"

"Why are you here?" Najelith made a sour face at Jinxie's blunt changing of the subject.

"Razfahd's orders," she explained. "We're here to help!" The Galeserpent smiled brightly at her. Jinxie was surprised at how young the woman was. She had scarcely paid attention to the Serpent Generals during their meeting at the palace, but now seeing her up close several details caught her eye. Besides Rughadjeen, they all wore the same red-and-gold armor over loose-fitting white garb traditional of the Empire. The Skyserpent wore a heavier, less ornate breastplate more suiting a man on the front lines. He and Zazarg seemed to be the only two possessing age enough to reasonably be considered a General. From what she could tell, the other three were barely into their twenties, likely even younger than her.

It occured to her that perhaps the Empire's military structure was not founded on the same principles of her native Bastok. In the Republic, promotions came with time and experience, soliders earning their way up the ladder by dedicating their lives to the service. Bastokans in the army could stay in for decades and not reach the upper echelons of command. Now she was looking at a girl that she likely had a good five years on who was in charge of a sixth of the entire Imperial Army.

"General Najelith," she asked aloud, crouching down to pick her fallen three-cornered hat off the ground, "how did you earn your position?"

Najelith quirked an eyebrow, perhaps as puzzled by the content of the question as its timing. "The same way everyone in the military did, through proof of my power in combat."

"So the five of you . . . "

The Galeserpent nodded, holding her bow outstretched towards Jinxie meaningfully. "Out of everyone in the Empire, we, the Serpent Generals, are the most powerful soldiers you will find"

The air suddenly crackled with electricity, and she gasped as a burst of the Khimaira's power threw apart Gadalar's dome of fire. No sooner had it emerged than the ground split at its feet, and the beast toppled over in response to Zazarg sending a shockwave through the earth with nothing more than raw strength. The beast was singed and smoking, still-burning flames smothered as it was tossed into the mud. As soon as it was down, the Galeserpent, Mihli Aliapoh, was upon it in a flash. The club she wielded was nearly as big as she was, and with bone-crushing force she battered the monster down as it struggled to rise.

Jinxie watched, taken aback by the sheer power unleashed by the Serpent Generals. The Khimaira retaliated fiercely, a bolt of lightning from its horns sending Mihli sprawling, but the Mithra landed on her feet and immediately took the offensive again. Rughadjeen and Zazarg joined her as Gadalar continued to harrass it with flames. Najelith spun away from her, nocking an arrow in her bow, but lowered it after squinting at the monster.

"Not yet," she whispered to herself.

Jinxie looked around with a start. "Oh no," she said, and took off suddenly. Najelith called after her, but she was already sliding down the short cliff wall between her and where the Serpent Generals had beaten the Khimaira back to. She halted just short of a groundburst as the Khimaira and Zazarg shattered the landscape with an exchange of blows, diving around it instead. Not far in front of her, she saw Isset's limp form stretched over the moss-covered rocks dotting the area. Lightning danced around her as the Khimaira viciously counter-attacked the Serpent Generals, and she clutched her trireme hat against her head as she darted towards the fallen Puppetmaster.

"Isset," she called out to her, kneeling in front of the other woman. Isset gave no response. Her face was dreadfully pale and smeared with blood and dirt. Jinxie pulled her up, draping one arm around her shoulders and clutching it tightly. An explosion of lightning and flame burst up beside her, and she rushed through the heat and haze, dragging the Puppetmaster with her. The ground shook as the Khimaira and the generals battled it out, Jinxie forcing her way through the warzone to rescue her friend.

She twisted first to her left, then right, trying to find a clear way free from the melee. Isset moaned as she was pulled bodily away from the battle, and Jinxie struggled to keep her steady. The mercenary was nothing but dead weight, and the quick slide downhill to retrieve her was now far more formidable going back up. Gathering her resolve, she ducked her head down and broke for the steep incline at a dead run.

Isset pressed down on her, but she continued with all her strength, pushing her legs up the hill. Looking up for a brief moment, she saw Najelith leaning down over the ledge, extending her hand furtively. She also saw that hand was still much too far away to grab. Gritting her teeth, she pressed on, but the mud was dragging her down. Desperately, with her body being assailed by loose debris kicked up by the battle raging behind her, she lashed her hand out and made a leap for the Galeserpent's grasp. The archer stretched forward, and wrapped her hand tightly around Jinxie's wrist, heaving her up to the ledge.

She was almost up when a bolt of lightning struck the space between them, sending Jinxie and Isset plummeting back towards the ground below.

A scream didn't even have time to escape her lips before her descent was cut short. With a sudden and powerful jerk, she felt the breath explode from her lungs as she was yanked from the air, and a moment later tossed bodily atop the ledge she had been trying to reach. Isset's body rolled next to her a second later, and the Puppetmaster stirred at the rough disturbance, blinking uncertainly and trying to move. Jinxie struggled up to her elbows, taking a moment to make sure her hat was still secure, and then looked around for an explanation as to what had just happened. She gave a start when it presented itself before her.

"Vaala!" She exclaimed as the Ninja landed gently on the ground. "You're alright!"

Stretching her neck to one side, the black-garbed woman rolled one shoulder forward, then repeated the motion in the other direction. "My task was to escort and protect you," she stated, "and the Special Assignments Division is not familiar with failure."

"The others," she started moving to her feet, pushing herself up, but Vaala shook her head.

"I brought them here first. When I saw you with Najelith I determined you were in the safest place possible and went looking for the others. You descended the cliff while I was gone." There was a trace of irritability in her voice for a fraction of a second. "They are not unharmed, but they should survive."

"Thank you, Vaala," Jinxie clasped the other woman's hand, bowing her head sincerely. "Thank you."

"Uggh . . . " at the sound of the voice behind them, she quickly turned to find Isset starting to stir. "Wha - what's going . . . where am I?"

"Lie still, Isset," Jinxie crouched down next to her, taking her hand. "How do you feel?"

"Like I was just hit by a Khimaira," she muttered. "Where . . . where is everybody . . . ?"

"Vaala rescued them. We're all safe."

"But . . . the monster . . . "

"Good morning, mercenary!" Isset almost leaped out of her skin as General Najelith's face appeared over her, and Jinxie felt her stomach flip-flop in surprise. She hadn't even heard the other woman approaching and now she was right next to her. The Puppetmaster bolted upright into a sitting position, clutching at her chest with a gasp.

"General!" She breathed. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving you, naturally," the archer planted her bow in the ground, looking out towards the fight. "The others sure are taking their time, though."

"Others?" Isset turned her head questioningly towards Jinxie.

"Can you not feel it in the air?" Vaala asked seriously. "This mountain of force weighing down upon us? The thickness in the air, the heat in your blood, the sense of dread you must surely feel in its presence - this is the strength of the Serpent Generals assembled in one spot."

Jinxie nodded to Isset, and then moved out of her range of vision. The battleground below them revealed, the Puppetmaster could only stare.

"Ash! Ash and smoking ruin!" Gadalar was shouting. The Hume's long brown hair was matted down with sweat as he swung his ivory scythe. "Now, White Joker," he called to the weapon, "Salamander Flame!" With both hands, he crashed it into the ground. As soon as the blade touched the mud, a river of flames erupted from its tip, crashing with terrible force into the Khimaira. It howled madly, but then unleashed a noxious gas from its maw. The Flameserpent hastily fled as the ground solidified around him, the monster's breath petrifying all that it touched.

Just before the lethal gas could lay claim to the Hume, the Springserpent General pounced out from behind him. Mihli Aliapoh swung her enormous club with a fierce cry, producing a wave of cleansing water. The two forces struck with an explosive result, with the Khimaira's putrid gas scoured away. Following through, Mihli dove through her own torrent to viciously smack the end of her club down on the beast's snout. Blood gushed from its nose, and it responded with a roar and a toss of its head that threw her aside. No sooner had she skidded to a halt, landing on her feet once more, than Zazarg and Rughadjeen were on it. The latter charged in head on, Algol still ablaze, the former launched down from above, his fists crashing with meteoric impact into the Khimaira's back.

For every attack they launched, the Khimaira had a counter. When they crowded in around it, it would release the same storm of energy that had obliterated Sefadin's assault. If they ran out of range, it shot deadly toxins from its tail and its throat. It fought their weapons with its fangs, and their magic with its lightning. The Generals were taking a beating, Jinxie could easily see, but so was the Khimaira. Its wings were flared upwards in a defensive posture, and the ground was covered with claw marks from where it had dug itself in yet still been pushed back.

Watching them in combat was seeing a perpetual motion machine in action. Every time one of them was forced back, there was another to take their place. They never let up, never gave quarter, they only pressed harder with every fresh assault. The Khimaira was powerful, that was clear, but she knew just from watching them that the outcome of this battle was not in question. The Serpent Generals were going to win the day.

Coughing nearby tore her away from her thoughts, and she turned to see Sefadin, lying propped up against a tree some distance away, slowly coming to his senses. Krista was next to him, and she called for help as soon as he started stirring.

"What's goin' on . . ?" His eyes were bleary, and his arms were limp at his sides.

"We took a pretty bad hit," Isset replied to him, the woman still coming to her senses herself. "You're missing a great fight, Captain. The Serpent Generals are here."

"Oh man," he breathed, "I gotta see that." He strained, trying to rise, but collapsed quickly. "Ugh . . . you got anything that'll kickstart my heart?"

Isset lifted her hand up, and for the first time Jinxie saw clearly the manipulator she used to control Shoki. It snapped into place in her palm, and she began twisting her wrist while moving her fingers. She caught Jinxie staring and smiled.

"The band around my wrist has a length of wire inside of it, and that's attached to the manipulator," she explained. "That way I can drop it and fight with my fists without losing it. Once my palm is on it, I can control Shoki through specific finger movements on the surface or verbal commands, or just manipulating my chi a certain way. He'll even react to changes in my pulse that the manipulator picks up." She frowned, pulling at nothing with the hand holding the device. An apologetic look came upon her as she turned back to Sefadin. "The Serpent Generals' spiritual energy is giving us too much interference, I can't reconnect with Shoki while they're fighting like this."

"They're so strong," Jinxie could feel the intense power being released from their battle growing even greater. "Why don't they finish it off already?"

"Because," Sefadin coughed, "they need to destroy it completely."

"What do you mean?"

"Ah," this time it was Krista who spoke up, "I can answer that." Rummaging through her pack, she produced her harp and began plucking rhythmically at the strings. To Jinxie's surprise, a cloud of images began appearing in the air, moving in time to the Bard's tune and voice.

"Khimairas are not what you might imagine," she said, and a rough purple shape formed in the cloud above Krista's head. "They're not born or summoned, they're not an ancient monster of any kind. Khimairas are engineered through science and magic - soulless creations assembled from the remains of other monsters!" The images of several other creatures appeared in the cloud, with arrows pointing from them to the purple mass in the center. Jinxie realized that the comical display was the same as what she had experienced when Pixel had told them Kkel's story, only obviously to a greatly lessened degree.

"Making Khimairas is strictly forbidden by the Empire," a large "No" sign appeared above the Khimaira in her image, and Jinxie had to force herself not to roll her eyes. "But the Beastmen still produce them regularly. However, it was discovered . . . " the tempo of her song increased, and the image solidified into the form of the blank-eyed beast the Generals were fighting below them, " . . . that new Khimairas were being created using remains from previous ones which had been slain!" She lowered her voice, and the illusion lapsed into a series of rough shapes and colors. "Therefore, in order to prevent old Khimairas from being used to build new, stronger ones . . . " Five red shapes appeared around the Khimaira in her song, closing in on it rapidly, with a white flash as the result. " . . . you must obliterate that Khimaira entirely!"

"The Serpent Generals are waiting for the perfect moment," Sefadin spoke as Krista's song was carried away by the wind, "so that they might capture the Khimaira at a point of its greatest energy release and turn that energy back upon it. That is the only way to ensure it is completely destroyed."

"A monster made from other monsters . . . " Jinxie looked back over her shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of the beast. "Then it doesn't just have powers like a Behemoth . . . "

"No," this time it was Vaala whom confirmed her suspicion. "It is very likely the Khimaira you see before us was constructed using Behemoths native to your continent."

"That's . . . terrifying." She shuddered openly.

"Wait," Sefadin managed to edge himself up on his elbows, looking out over the ledge, "do you feel it?"

"Yes," Vaala confirmed, "the time is growing near."

General Rughadjeen was ruthlessly battering the Khimaira with his sword, forcing it up against the wall of the cliff around them. It attempted to break to the right, but was met by General Zazarg's fearsome strength and turned back. To its left, Mihli and Gadalar closed in on it, countering its magic and assailing it with their own. It roared in fury as it was boxed in, and Jinxie could see a white glow beginning to pulsate from beneath its stolen skin. The wings on its back were stretched wide open, and the hungry look in its soulless eyes had been replaced by sheer rage. It no longer wanted to simply eat its attackers, it wanted to hurt them, to punish them.

The monster was thick with wounds now, scars from the burning sword the Skyserpent brought against it. Beneath the cut flesh, a ruddy white glow was slowly pulsing outwards. The horns on its head were no longer crackling with lightning, but instead burning with that same white light. All over, the Khimaira was beginning to glow, and its chi was growing massively. Jinxie felt the air become stifling as its spiritual energy rose to greater heights than ever, overpowering even that of the Serpent Generals. Its howl was like an arrow, piercing through the oppressive river of colliding forces. The ground swelled up and burst around the Khimaira's feet, and the four Generals were forced back in unison, shielding themselves from the sudden surge.

At exactly that moment, a new source of chi suddenly burst to life, and with a gasp Jinxie turned to see Najelith, the Galeserpent, drawing back her bow.

"Almost," she whispered, squinting one eye as she leveled an arrow. To Jinxie's astonishment, the point of the projectile flickered briefly, and then burst into radiant light. Barely a moment later, the Khimaira let loose a deafening roar, its body erupting with power. A sphere of blinding energy formed around it, holding in place for a fraction of a second.

"Now, Selene!" The Galeserpent shouted, letting her arrow fly. "Typhonic Arrow!"

Jinxie should have felt, as everyone else did, the catastrophic collision of power as Najelith's arrow collided with the Khimaira's fulmination. The archer had spent the entire battle letting her bow, Selene, gather energy for one tumultous release. At the moment of the monster's greatest attack, all that power was brought to bear, resulting in an energy wave deadly enough to completely eradicate the beast. For everyone else, being in the presence of such incredible power was enough to make their bones rattle and the breath leave their lungs.

However, Jinxie could not feel any of it. She was lost in the dark and infinitely vast ocean of terror which had just swept over her.

From just beyond the entrance to the Khimaira's clearing, the Dark Rider had appeared.

Even as Najelith prepared to release her arrow, his crushing aura struck her like a great, pulverizing weight. She stood in rapt fear, gaping at the horseman as he reared his steed just beyond where they all had gathered. His burning eyes returned her gaze from beneath his helmet, and in the next instant he lowered his lance and charged. Trapped in the cage of his power, she could feel nothing but terror. He was here to kill her. She knew it without a doubt, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Her legs moving seemingly of their own accord, Jinxie screamed, running as fast as she could. Escape, she told herself, she had to escape. This was no foe she could fight, no battle she could win. This was death, and it was coming for her.

The voices of the others were lost as the ground gave out beneath her. She tumbled head over heels, landing on her back to see the Dark Rider leaping over the cliff, the hooves of its eight-legged horse bearing down to crush her.

She covered her face desperately, still crying out, and then a wave of darkness swept across her.

In the next moment, the entire area erupted as Najelith's arrow pierced the Khimaira's dome of energy, and the battlefield was scoured clear by light.


Kkel Solaar's eyes came alight as a portal within the Chamber of Passage flared to life. He had waited through the night, dozing in a chair propped up against the wall from time to time. All the members of his elite squad had long since been sent home to recover from their day of lightning-fast assaults. Razfahd had returned to the palace, confident that allowing the Serpent Generals to follow Jinxie would bring quick and decisive victory. The guards had all locked up for the night and retired. Only Pixel remained with him, and she too turned in anticipation as a soft blue glow filled the portal.

It was Sefadin, the mercenary Captain, and with him the Bard that he dragged along. He stood up to greet them, but stopped when they came fully into view. The Paladin's head was hung, and his companion was looking away. In the brief moment he saw her eyes, he caught their redness, along with her tear-stained cheeks. Before he could raise his voice to them as they stepped away from the portal, it came to life once more. This time it was the other two mercenaries, Speed and Isset. Both appeared in a similar state to the Captain.

"What happened?" They looked up, surprised by his presence in the darkened Chamber. All four of them looked away from him, and each other. No one seemed to want to speak. Rising from his chair, he felt his emotions beginning to churn. "Why did you come back?" He demanded. "Answer me!"

"General . . . " Isset whispered, biting her lip.

The portal flared to life once more, and the dark form of the assassin, Vaala, appeared within it. She kept her masked head high, walking past the others without a word. Stopping in front of him, she drew a deep breath under the intense gaze of his blue eyes.

"General Solaar," she said perfunctorily. "I must report mission failure."

Kkel could feel his cheeks growing hot as Pixel placed a hand over her mouth, shaking her head. "What are you saying, Agent?" He could no longer keep his anger in check. "Somebody tell me what happened! Where is Jinxie? Well?" Vaala continued to meet his gaze, but said nothing in response.

A flash of blue told of the portal being used again, and this time they all turned. The platform it rested on filled up with the forms of the five Serpent Generals. Kkel brushed past Vaala, walking towards them, but Rughadjeen quickly came forward and headed him off.

"Kkel," he said, "my friend," the Elvaan's voice was low, "I am sorry."

"What are you - " he stopped, realizing the Skyserpent was pressing something into his hands. He looked down, and his heart nearly stopped in disbelief.

"We lost her, Kkel," Rughadjeen whispered, handing him Jinxie's tattered hat. "We lost her."

Kkel could only stare at the object in his hands in the stillness of the Chamber. For a long while, no one said a word, and the only sound was that of soft, silent tears.

Chapter LCI: Giant Monster Number Three

Braced against the wall for support, Kkel forced himself to his feet, steadying his legs beneath him. He was starting to feel his strength coming back, a sensation of relief spurred on by the sight of Pixel reappearing in the Chamber of Passage. All the soldiers of his piecemeal squadron had made it out of their last lightning-fast assault in one piece. Making it back out again was another story.

Half of them could no longer stand under their own power. Two were receiving emergency treatment just to keep their hearts beating. Injuries sustained in battle with the undead were superficial at worst, as they were always too quick to be lured into any drawn-out confrontations. The whole of their problems stemmed from the Runic Portal. They were burning out, and quickly. As he caught Pixel's eyes, he knew that there would be no more return trips. Their squad was decimated by weakness.

"So . . . it's so . . . "she started to say softly.

Kkel gently motioned her to silence. The silver-haired Tarutaru closed her eyes, sliding down against the wall and breathing heavily as she clutched Gjallarhorn. With some great effort, he managed to turn away from her as the door to the Chamber of Passage opened. Footsteps carried down to where he stood, and it was only a few moments before the figure of Razfahd appeared at the opposite end of the hall. With a dispassionate eye, the Grand Vizier surveyed the exhausted soldiers of the Sunserpent's assault team. Slowly his gaze turned to Kkel himself, and there was a pained understanding within them he had not expected to see.

"This mission is over, Solaar."

"No, wait," Kkel stumbled forward, shaking his head when his vision blurred. "I can still go on by myself. Give me just a little longer and - "

"General, do not make me repeat myself." The familiar coldness of Razfahd's voice crept back in. He sighed deeply, clasping his hands behind his back. His stern, hawk-like features softened slightly. "Kkel," his tone was placating, "you will kill yourself. You have done all you can do."

"There's no way the Lamia will keep their forces on alert if the attacks don't keep coming," he protested. "Jinxie must be practically to Arrapago by now, we'd be practically laying a trap for her! Even if she does succeed she'll only find the undead swarm waiting for her and her son when she tries to return."

Razfahd looked at him, maintaining his haughty veneer. "When I first saw you return from your last mission, I gave orders that reinforcements be sent to accompany Jinxie."

"Reinforcements?"

The Grand Vizier nodded. "Their orders are to assist her in completing her task . . . or bring her back here if the situation seems unable to be salvaged."

Kkel put a hand against the wall, watching the Runic portals pulse steadily. Clenching his fingers, he smashed a fist against the brick and mortar, letting his head hang. "I can't let her down, Razfahd," he said without looking at him. "She saved more than my life. She saved my soul. I have to repay her."

"Then do it some other time, Sunserpent," the Grand Vizier ordered, "whatever happens from here on out is entirely up to her."

The General closed his eyes, letting a breath escape slowly. Under his breath, he uttered a silent prayer to Walahra. He asked for nothing more than for Jinxie to be kept safe.


"I hate this Empire!" Jinxie screamed as she darted backwards. The Khimaira crashed down into the ground snout-first, tearing the dirt apart in its failed attempt to bite down on the blonde woman. Jerking its head free, it snorted, looking around for the fleeing meal. When its soulless white eyes fell upon her, it lunged again with a hungry snarl. Jinxie narrowly avoided its crushing jaw, breaking into a run as its fangs missed her. Diving forward, she snatched her sword from the ground and rolled up, holding the slim blade forward defensively.

The Khimaira looked at the blade, then snorted derisively, stomping its way towards her. Jinxie felt the hilt tremble in her grasp as the monster closed in on her, but she held her ground. It was still blocking the only exit, and if she had to take it apart one slice at a time to get free, she would. She wished fervently for the power to fight it with magic as she had the Hydra, but that was no longer an option. Her eyes widened when she saw a surge of electricity begin forming from its thick horns, and the bat-like wings on its back flared open. The beast was hungry, and did not feel like playing with its food.

The sparks flying from the tips of its horns abruptly died as the Khimaira roared, rearing upwards and bucking violently. Jinxie lowered her sword, confused, as the monster twisted and writhed, but then she flew backwards as it crashed its front paws down on the ground. The force tore her from her feet, sending her hurtling towards the cliff wall surrounding the area. She tensed her body, bracing her arms in front of her head as she prepared for impact. Before it could happen, there was a flash of darkness, and the next thing she knew she was settled on the ground.

Blinking, she looked up and saw a lithe figure wrapped in black standing above her, two katana outstretched. Gray eyes did not move from the Khimaira as the woman moved up and down on the balls of her feet, preparing for an attack.

"Vaala!" Jinxie exclaimed, scrambling to her feet.

"It would be best if you flee, provisional Major Jinxie," the Mithra told her as the Khimaira's eyes found them. "I will not be able to hold this monster back for long."

"Let me help," she lifted her sword up, leveling it at the beast. "I can't just leave you here."

Vaala did not move from where she was. "You have not used magic since we began this journey," she said in a matter-of-fact tone, "not even now, when your life was at risk." The Khimaira roared, and then began closing in on the two of them. "Am I correct in saying that there is something preventing you from doing so?"

"I - "

"Your assistance would be unwarranted. Run away while you can." Before she could argue, the monster was on them again, swiping at them with its enormous front paws. Jinxie dove to the side, avoiding a strike, but Vaala ran forward instead, planting her feet on its gargantuan limb and running up the sinewy length towards its head. Her hand flashed, and a row of shurikens suddenly blossomed on the Khimaira's muzzle. It shook, almost as if a sneeze, and they all fell to the ground. Vaala pulled away from the monster with a backflip to the ground, watching her weapons fall harmlessly, not even going in deep enough to do more than make the creature itch.

Jinxie watched as the Ninja darted back and forth, astonished. There was no wasted motion in anything the assassin did, not a single exertion more than necessary. When the Khimaira came at her with its mouth open, her hands made a rapid series of gestures and then a cloud of purple smoke erupted in front of her. The beast reared back, coughing violently as another spray of silver shuriken broke from the haze. They embedded themselves in its chest, but fell out as soon as the Khimaira's feet impacted with the ground. It spun about, searching for Vaala, but she was running swiftly behind it, just beyond its range of vision.

Her ears caught the sound of something grinding together as Vaala lanced one hand forward. A moment later, flames sprung up on the Khimaira's back, the scent of burning fur mixing with the odor of swamp water and fumes. This time the beast did roar, feeling the intense heat of Vaala's eastern chemicals eating at its skin. With an earth-shaking clamor, it toppled itself over and rolled into the thick mud around it, squelching the flames. The Ninja watched with some surprise as the still-smoking monster righted itself, shaking flecks of dirt from its thick mane.

"A smart one," she said in an even tone. "Not ideal."

As soon as it was upright again, the monster leaped towards her, black-and-red wings stretching upwards as it tracked down the Mithra. Vaala ran towards it as well, and Jinxie shouted at her in confusion as she went headlong into the towering creature. Just before the moment of impact, however, Vaala's lithe form slid down into the muck, momentum carrying her forward, beneath the Khimaira's belly. In a burst of leaves and black powder, she emerged behind it, brandishing both her katanas and a fresh batch of her flammable tools. Like Jinxie, she gave no thought to the monster's fur-topped tail.

Only when a burst of a foul green spray shot out from it, enveloping Vaala in a sickly-colored cloud, did Jinxie see the stinger concealed beneath the hair.

In a puff of acrid green smoke, the Ninja burst out from inside the cloud, but almost immediately fell to the ground. She planted her arms beneath her, struggling to rise as the Khimaira turned. Its eyes fell on Vaala's struggling form as she coughed, trembling with pain as poison began spreading through her body. Jinxie ran to her side immediately, trying to pull her up as she started going limp.

"Jinxie," Vaala breathed, her voice hoarse, "run," a fit of coughing swept over her, and her body convulsed.

"Hang on!" She shouted at the Ninja. "We'll - "

The rest of her sentence was lost as the Khimaira rammed into the both of them, sending them sprawling in different directions. Jinxie came down hard on the ground, crying out as pain shot through her leg. She rolled a distance after the impact, and when she finally stopped the world kept on spinning, leaving her completely disoriented. Trying to shake her vision clear, blurry shapes in the distance suddenly came into focus. With a gasp, she saw Vaala lying motionless beneath the Khimaira's fangs.

"No!" she started to shout, fumbling for her sword, but the Khimaira paid her no heed.

"Hey you purple abomination," a higher, louder voice with a distinct Imperial accent shouted through the trees, "get away from them!"

A cloud of needles shot out from the trees, peppering the Khimaira's thick hide. To Jinxie's surprise, the slender form of the puppet Shoki rocketed out from the bush, its tiny hands firing a barrage of the deadly projectiles. Turning, it roared angrily at the intrusion to its meal, swiping a crushing paw at the marionette, but Shoki vaulted upwards in mid-air, as if pulled by a set of invisible strings. A moment later there was a surge of motion on either side of the monster, and a jarring impact that shook the clearing. The Khimaira's eyes rolled back in its head as on one its left side, Isset's foot was buried in its face, and on the right, Speed's great axe was thrust up against its jaw. They seemed to hang there for a moment in time before breaking free of the beast, both landing safely as it reeled.

"Jinxie!" Isset shouted. "Are you alright?"

"Vaala," she urged in response, desperately indicating the fallen Ninja, "you have to help Vaala!"

"I'm on it," the Puppetmaster declared. "Keep this thing busy, Speed!"

"What? Aw, maaaaaan . . . " the mercenary loosely hefted up his great axe as the Khimaira snorted, easily brushing off the earlier attack. It's attention fell on the dark-haired Warrior as he sighed. "This place is such a downer, man."

As Speed prepared to fend off the hulking creature, Isset and Shoki appeared by Vaala's side. "It's some kind of toxin, the Khimaira shoots it from its tail," Jinxie explained. "Do you have more of your antidote?"

"Of course," with a flick of her wrist, a compartment on Shoki's torso sprang open, revealing a row of vials within. "Is the poison resistant to magic?"

"What? I don't know, I - " she stopped as she realized what Isset was asking her. "I can't help her, Isset. I'll explain later," she spoke over the raven-haired woman's question, "we need to help Vaala now!"

A breeze suddenly blew past, and they both blinked as something large flew in between them.

Isset gave a gasp as a loud thud shook the leaves from the ground, and they both turned to see Speed collapsed against the cliff wall, sprawled head over heels. Turning back around, the Khimaira loomed over them, Speed's amood between its teeth. Growling irritably, it spit the weapon out, looking down at the two women beneath it.

"Run," Jinxie said without looking at Isset.

They broke in opposite directions, the Puppetmaster scooping Vaala up and darting away in one smooth motion. The Khimaira roared, bounding after Jinxie with growing speed. She pumped her legs as fast as she could, but in one mighty leap the creature flew over her head, spinning in the air to land directly in front of her. Thinking quickly, she dropped to her side and pushed down hard, sinking her arm into the mud and jerking her body to a stop just in front of the beast's gnashing teeth. Pushing forward with her free leg, she propelled herself in the opposite direction.

She had only made it a few steps when Isset sped past her, and she turned to see the Puppetmaster smashing her fist square into the monster's nose. Ignoring the strike, the Khimaira opened its jaws to swallow her up, but she ducked beneath its muzzle and delivered a stunning uppercut to the creature. It stared at her in annoyance.

"This isn't good," she admitted, then cartwheeled quickly aside as the beast swatted at her with its paw.

This time, however, the Khimair did not chase after her. Rumbling with anger, its horns began to spark once more. Jinxie felt her hair rising up as lightning started surging from within it. The air became thick as she turned, trying to get away from the storm which was suddenly and inevitably brewing. She heard Isset shouting towards her, but her words were overpowered by the sudden and shocking release of pent-up energy from within the monster's body.

A wave of thunder cascaded from its horns, striking down the area with force which caused the ground to erupt. Jinxie cried out as she was creased by a column of electric force, her red tabard burned dark black by the contact. Gritting her teeth as she fell, she struggled to make her body stop shaking and get back up. The current which had run through her was making her muscles contract, and her legs weren't listening to her commands that they move her back to her feet. She twisted her head up and found the Khimaira looming over her, and her eyes went wide when it scooped her leg up in its open mouth, fangs glistening above.

With a jarring impact, something struck it dead in the center of its face. It dropped Jinxie down as its wings went limp on its back, as for the first time it appeared genuinely stunned. The next thing she knew, she was being scooped up off the ground and watching Isset fly by again, this time with Shoki in tow. The duo rapidly attacked the monster as Jinxie looked up and found Sefadin's smiling face looking towards it. He set her down, raising up his shield.

"What a beauty!" The mercenary grinned widely. "I haven't seen a Khimaira this big since that one they fished out of Hazhalm. Of course, that one had three heads."

"Of course it did," Jinxie said flatly.

The Khimaira spun around rapidly, flaring its wings with a howl. Isset leaped backwards to avoid its slashing paws, skidding to a stop on the ground as the monster turned towards Sefadin. It eyed him for a moment, tilting its head, then let out a ferocious roar. The trees shook as the ground rumbled beneath their feet, and the mercenary stood as the focal point for the violent display. His face was stoic even as his hair blew back and the mud at his feet broke apart and went flying. When its howl died down into a low grumble, the man and the monster stood face to face, Sefadin staring up at the beast towering over him.

"Oh, you're coming on to me now?" Sefadin's voice was a low, excited growl. "Well I should warn you babe, I'm a cold heartbreaker, fit to burn," with the ringing of steel, he tore his blade from its scabbard, "and I'll rip your heart in two." There was burst of chi at his feet, sending the dry leaves around him circling upwards. As he looked up at the Khimaira, a smile broke his lips. Jinxie covered her eyes as a blinding flash burst from his sword, and the beast howled as well. When she looked back, blinking spots from her vision, she was amazed to see that the weapon had taken on a golden sheen.

"Sing," the Paladin said, bringing his sword to bear, "Hauteclaire!"

Sefadin's sword burst into brilliant light, shining radiantly as he held it out towards the monster. It recoiled from the light, roaring in confusion as Sefadin brandished the golden blade. "Krista!" He shouted out. "Fight music!"

"Aye, Captain!" Jinxie spun around to see the Bard running up to join them, panting and waving, fumbling through her belongings until she produced a harp. Rapidly, her fingers strummed the strings as her voice rose, and soon a stirring march was spreading through the clearing. Krista's spellsong wrapped around Jinxie, and she felt her limbs becoming lighter, her thoughts clearer. The urge to find her sword and take it up again began drumming at the back of her brain. She had to fight down the feelings, but was surprised by the strength of Krista's song.

Sefadin, on the other hand, was reveling in it. His sword, Hauteclaire, made a distinct ringing noise everytime he swung it. What was more, depending on the way he held it, the ring would alter in pitch and duration, making it truly sound like the blade was singing. The Khimaira reared back from his repeated strikes, and she could see streams of bright red blood trickling down from where Hauteclaire's bites were succeeding in making shallow cuts. Smirking, the Paladin held the beast at bay with his strikes, moving in time to Krista's frantic tune.

"I like it," he declared over the sound of battle, "it's got a good beat, and I can dance to it."

"What is that sword?" Jinxie asked, shielding her eyes against its brilliant sheen.

"Captain Sefadin's famous golden sword, Hauteclaire," she turned to see Isset approaching her, pausing to catch her breath. "It amplifies his defense and fighting power so long as he wields it, and sings upon his command. I gave Vaala an antidote," she continued, "but this poison is strong, it's going to take her some time to get through it." She twisted the hand holding Shoki's manipulator around, and the puppet appeared at her side, holding up a familiar silver length. Jinxie blinked, drawing her rapier out of its grasp.

"You're not joining in, Jinxie," Isset said plainly. "What's happened?"

"Isset, I . . . " she looked at her friend, her eyes pleading. "I have to find my son. There's no way they'd let me come along if they knew."

Isset's gaze was imperceptible, and there was a long moment gone before she spoke again.

"Speed!" She shouted, turning her head towards the Warrior.

"Lemme alone Issy," he mumbled, still in the position he had been when the Khimaira swatted him away. "I'm unconscious."

Marching over to him, she kicked him in the side, causing him to topple over into a sitting up position.

"Get your axe and get back in there, this thing isn't dead yet."

"Man," he muttered, pushing himself up off the ground, "such a buzzkill."

As Speed retrieved his weapon, Sefadin went screeching past Jinxie, his shield held up as he was propelled backwards through the mud. Halting himself with a burst of chi, he immediately ran forward again, colliding with the monster and holding off one of its paws with his shield and fending off a second set of claws with Hauteclaire. Releasing the parry with a backstep, he avoided the Khimaira's fangs and then stretched out his sword, which emitted a fierce shine towards his foe.

"Hauteclaire," he ordered, "Sentinel!"

The sword flashed, and the air around the Paladin grew thick. Just as it did, however, the Khimaira reared back with one paw, roaring as it took a fearsome swipe. Jinxie gasped as it struck Sefadin full on. Krista's song stopped as the Bard shrieked, and Isset and Speed froze in their rush to assist the Captain.

As for Sefadin himself, he turned his head back towards the monster, grin still splitting his face. "What," he asked, the air gleaming around him, "is that all you got?"

A fresh wave of chi burst from him as he slashed with fresh vigor at the beast. Krista immediately fumbled with the strings of her harp, but managed to grasp it and strike up her tune again. Isset nodded to Speed, and the Warrior gave a sigh, hefting his crescent-bladed axe. As Sefadin drew the monster's attention, the two of them launched a fresh assault. Speed's weapon dug into its side as Isset's bone-crunching blows hammered its ribs. Shoki flew up from atop the Puppetmaster's shoulders, hands pumping out a series of white-hot balls of flame. It flared its wings up, but Sefadin bashed it in the face with his shield, stunning it, and they immediately drooped back down.

The beast reeled, and Sefadin drew back as well. "Soldiers, form up!" he shouted, and the other two pulled back their attacks. "Let's finish this bad girl off," he ordered, and immediately the level of spiritual energy he was pouring out flared even higher. Isset and Speed followed suit, and Jinxie could feel the intense pressure coming from them as they prepared to launch a final assault.

"Now then," Sefadin yelled, Hauteclaire near blinding with divine light, "on my mark." The Khimaira had recovered, and was roaring with fury at the pain it had been caused. "Over here, sweet thing," he yelled. "I'm back, and I'm coming your way!" He exploded from where he was, blade forward, heading right for the creature's head as Isset and Speed closed in on it from the sides. "Well now I'm supercharged," he leaped into the air, preparing to cleave downwards, Hauteclaire's song filling the air, "and I might just - "

An ephemeral mist burst from the Khimaira's skin, and all at once all the chi Jinxie had been feeling vanished. Hauteclaire's song died in the air and the sword's shine vanished as Sefadin dropped like a stone to the ground. Isset stumbled in her charge, and Speed's axe scraped ineffectually off of the monster's side. All traces of their power dispersed, just as the beast's mist did. Krista's song abruptly stopped as she and Jinxie gaped at the scene.

"What - " Sefadin started to say.

"Captain!" The Bard screamed. "Look out!"

Sefadin did not have time to raise his shield before the beast's enormous head struck him, horns carrying him off the ground and into the air. With incredible agility, it spun around, striking at Isset. The Puppetmaster skipped backwards a step too slow, and its claws left a deep rend in the front of her garment straight down to the skin. She gasped at how close it had been to disembowling her. Speed was already making his way away from it, and the stinger on its tail shot out bursts of poison which narrowly missed the Warrior as he fled.

"Augh, dammit," Sefadin sputtered, scraping mud off his face, "what the hell was that?"

"Tenebrous Mist, sir!" Krista leaned over him, trying to help him get back on his feet. "It disperses any spiritual energy immediately around the Khimaira's body. Very few of them are able to use it."

"Well, I hate it," he spat, clenching his sword in his hand. "Sergeant! Private!" He barked. "Get over here!"

"Busy!" Speed shouted back, the Khimaira now putting its attention on tracking down the fleeing mercenary, like a cat stalking a mouse.

"Shoki!" Isset's puppet snapped to attention, saluting the Puppetmaster. "Distract it!" Shoki nodded, then took off into the air. With one incredible burst, it fired a shockingly large burst of flame spread over the monster's skin. The scent of burning Khimaira washed over them as the creature howled, searching for the source of the fresh assault. Speed wasted no time in darting away from it, making his way over to join Sefadin and Isset.

"It's hurt, too," the mercenary Captain told them, "we can still do this. Let's finish what we started and get out of here, alright?"

"Right!" Isset confirmed. Speed shook his head wearily, drawing his great axe out again.

"This sucks, dude," he complained.

"Dude, I know," Sefadin said sourly, "but you gots to get paid."

"Word," Speed confirmed, and leveled his axe into position.

A moment later, the Khimaira finally laid eyes on Shoki. With a single whip of its tail, the puppet was blasted from the sky, skittering into the mud and out of sight. The Khimaira's attention remained on it just a second too long, and off of the trio of those attacking it.

"Now!" Sefadin commanded.

All at once, Sefadin, Isset, and Speed rushed forward, weapons drawn, closing in on the wounded Khimaira.

In the very next moment, the monstrous beast's howl tore through the surroundings, even as the energy it released did to the trio of attackers.

A dome of pure force erupted from the core of the Khimaira, bursting the ground apart in a violent upheaval. The dread storm of energy crashed into the mercenaries, sending them hurtling backwards through the air, tearing their bodies apart with sheer crushing force.

Sefadin bore the brunt of it, throwing himself forward, shield raised. His feet sank into the mud as he tried to resist the pressure, but within moments he was completely bowled over. Isset was like a leaf in the wind, the energy wave battering her form into the ground and then back towards the cliff wall surrounding them. Speed was picked up completely into the air, coming down so hard he sank into the ground, his axe landing several feet away from his unmoving form. Krista and Jinxie were swept up in it as well, both women torn from where they stood and buffeted through the clearing. Darkness washed over Jinxie as her body hit the ground, and a wave of dizziness turned her stomach.

The energy storm died down, but then a second impact shook the area. Jinxie was thrown into the air, landing hard on her back as the vibration tossed her up and then let her fall. Shaking off the surprise, she opened her eyes to see what had just landed.

Jinxie screamed, covering her head as the Khimaira's fangs wrapped around her.

A blast of hot, fetid breath washed over her, and she could feel the vibrations from the Khimaira's growl shaking her bones. She tensed her body, waiting for the sensation of the monster's fangs piercing her flesh.

It never came.

Her eyes flashed open as she realized she had not been eaten, and a gasp escaped her lips. The Khimaira was being held back, a sword in between its teeth, and a single man in armor bracing against the entire thrust of the beast's weight. With a slicing motion, he tore his blade free, and the monster recoiled with a howl. Gripping it between his armored hands, the swordsman brought his weapon into an attacking posture, the two curved blades rising from the single hilt confirming his identity even before he turned an eye towards Jinxie.

"Sorry we're late, Major," General Rughadjeen told her, and with a start, she realized she was surrounded. The enormous General Zazarg and wiry Gadalar were at her side. The archer Najelith took position behind her, and next to Rughadjeen was the club-wielding Mithra, Mihli Aliapoh. The Five Serpent Generals. the strongest warriors in Aht Urghan, now stood ready for battle with the Khimaira. Bracing his sword, Algol, the Skyserpent rushed forward.

"We'll take it from here!"