Chapter CI: One to Fear

"Rykoshet!"

Shifting uncomfortably in his bed, the blond Elvaan fought off distorted images floating across his vision. His arms felt like they were tied to boulders for the effort it took to move them. There was a weight on his chest making breathing somewhat laborious.

"Rykoshet!"

His face felt strange. There was something rubbing against his cheeks, one after the other. He tried to reach for it, but couldn't quite make it. He wondered why his pillow felt so hard. Who was shouting? It was still pitch black outside, there was no reason to be up in the middle of the night.

"Rykoshet, dammit, get up!"

His eyes snapped open, and Rykoshet sat straight up out of the pile of rubble he was lying in. Konstantine yelped as she leaped off of him, and the sting of having his cheeks slapped repeatedly suddenly became painfully acute. He shot a look behind him, seeing an indentation where Xaijin had shoved him into the stone wall and left him unconscious on the ground. To his left, he saw Fated scraping himself off the floor as well, shaking his head and looking around in confusion.

"Rykoshet, Rykoshet," Konstantine took hold of his arm, her large brown eyes looking up at him, "Xaijin's taken Odessa! Why did you let him out?"

His eyes were having trouble focusing on the tiny mage. Squeezing them shut tightly, he struggled to rise, bracing himself against the wall with a shaking hand.

"Where . . . where did he go?" He managed.

Konstantine pointed out the doorway. The walls outside the dungeon were scarred with deep gashes carved straight into the rock. Dust and loose rock were still falling from the spiral staircase which led to the dungeon. Every step bore a crack, creeping its way through the thick stone as if it were fragile glass. More than that, a stiflingly powerful residue of spiritual pressure hung in the air. Rykoshet could feel it slithering over his skin like oil, pressing against him and making it hard to breathe. It was the essence of pure malice permeating the atmosphere.

Scraping himself from the floor, Rykoshet finally managed to stand on unsteady legs. "Konnie . . . what did he do?"

"He threw you into that wall, Rykoshet, and then, and then he grabbed Odessa, knocked Fated down and ran away. It all happened so fast . . ."

"What happened?" The voice from the doorway was familiar, and they turned to find the Jeunoan Commander, Wolfgang, his eyes alight with suppressed fury. "What is going on, Rykoshet? Why is Xaijin free?"

"I let him out," the Elvaan responded, taking a slight step forward.

Before his foot scraped the ground, he was lifted into the air. A shockwave shook his spine as he was once again pushed into the wall. His mouth tasted like wet copper as blood trickled out from between his teeth. With strength belieing his small stature, Wolfgang had taken Rykoshet by the neck and held him against the stone wall, a fire in his eyes.

"What were you thinking?" He shook the Elvaan violently. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Is he fighting?" Rykoshet coughed, wiping the red trail from his mouth.

"What?" The question took the Jeunoan by surprise, and he dropped the taller man. Rykoshet staggered as his feet hit the floor, bracing himself on the wall.

"Is he fighting the undead?"

The Commander of Jeuno's military delivered a blistering stare at the Elvaan. "Is that what this is about? You let him go for that?" Konstantine gave a yelp as Wolfgang's silver sword came free from its scabbard. "He is not a weapon, Rykoshet, he is a monster." He leveled the blade at his throat, fury in his eyes. "You have not saved us! You've unleashed a monster on us all!"

The next sound out of Wolfgang's mouth was a surprised yelp as he flew backwards off his feet. His sword clattered to the ground, ringing out in the confined dungeon space. Wisps of dark magic floated off of Rykoshet's palm as Wolfgang came down hard, staring up in surprise after he landed.

"We're surrounded by monsters, Wolfgang," Rykoshet put his foot down on the Commander's sword, and with a flick of his heel kicked it over to him. "If having one of our own saves even one life, then I'll deal with as many monsters as I have to."

The Jeunoan picked himself up, his expression still smoldering. "This will be a disaster, Rykoshet. Xaijin cares nothing about us. When this fight is over he'll turn his attention back on us, and then what will we do?"

"Hope that you're wrong." He coughed again. "Fated, can you stand?"

The young Paladin was inching his way to his feet, his eyes dazed. "He went right through me . . . like I wasn't even there . . . "

"Worry about it later. Konnie, Fated, follow me. It's time to go."

"What?" Wolfgang shouted. "You've let Xaijin go free and now you're just walking away? Where are you going?"

Rykoshet stopped, his eyes meeting that of the smaller man. "To save us, Wolfgang," he replied. "From all the monsters." Turning slowly, he trudged out the door, clapping Fated on the shoulder as he went. It was time to go see Chatcher.


The great black flame of Xaijin's aura raged up into the darkened skies above. On the ground, the frost which had encroached the land melted away at his presence, but Meriphataud Mountains remained covered in white. A snow of sorts had begun to fall, laying thick upon the dirt and bleaching it. For in the wake of the great criminal's fury, the dust of countless bones now marked his passing.

From within the howling storm of his unleashed power, Xaijin stood watching the endless hordes of skeletal warriors destroy themselves in their attempts to get close to him. His mere presence was enough to tear them apart. The more powerful ones were able to breach the wall of his aura, only to be ground into dust by the torrent of force within. His red hair flew up like a bright flame behind him, and he drew his lips together in consternation.

"It's no fun this way," he muttered, watching the destruction without amusement. "You'll use yourselves up before I can get my hands on you."

Gritting his teeth together, his corded muscles bulged from under his taut skin. The ground heaved, and the great flame of his energy flickered. The pillar of swirling energy bursting up from his being wavered, its horrible essence diminishing rapidly. The army of undead drew back, pulled away by uncertainty about what to make of this new development.

The energy storm died down, and Xaijin stood at its epicenter, smile spreading across his face. Slowly, he brought his hands up, cracking his knuckles as he stretched his neck from side to side. He rolled his shoulders back as pebbles which had been caught up in the raging whirlwind of his aura began dropping from the air, a rain of stones pelting the ground all around him. He raised his head, a malicious glint in his eyes.

"I'll fight you with one tenth of my power," he declared. "That should be enough to make this interesting."

"Hey!" A high voice shouted down from above. "Are you crazy? Just smash them!"

The Elvaan's glance shot up the parapets of Castle Oztroja to where he had left Odessa. Hundreds of feet in the air, she still took a step back when his gaze hit her. "Don't yell at me, woman!" He snarled.

"Don't go doing stupid things and I won't yell!" She replied, clutching her robe about her for warmth. "You want me to heal you or not?"

"Grrraah . . . " the air around him crackled. An instant later, his fist shot out, crunching through the teeth of an undead warrior seeking to assault him. He clenched his fingers inside the thing's skull, explosively pulling the front of its face off before smashing its ribs and spine with one downward slice using its own jawbone. "I'm busy now," he shouted back up at her, "just do your job!"

Whatever her feelings on the matter might have been, the absent, offhand manner in which he had just pulverized his assailant kept Odessa from voicing them. Anything she had to say would have been lost in any case, overpowered by the deafening wail which overtook Meriphataud Mountains.

With the overwhelming force surrounding him gone, the endless horde of undead around him rushed in like the tide. Bones of beast and man converged upon Xaijin in a blinding rush. Those holding weapons sliced at him with chipped, rusting blades. Others scratched and tore at his flesh with bare fingers or teeth. Their sheer numbers swarmed him like insects in an instant, burying the flame-haired Elvaan beneath them. Odessa watched from above with horror as they crushed him under their weight.

The feeling lasted only long enough to twist her stomach before a fist burst up through the spine of one of the undead monsters at the back of the pile. Shards of bone split off in all directions as a fireball of spiritual force erupted outwards, and Xaijin climbed into the air as the beast's skeleton collapsed, its thick backbone now torn from the rest of it. Xaijin rose into the air, trailing blood from innumerable cuts and scratches across his entire body. It ran down into his teeth, staining his broad smile red.

"This is what I'm after," he exulted, twirling the length of bone like a staff. "Now fight me," he demanded as he came down to the ground, sending out shockwaves with his impact. "Come and grind yourselves to dust against my fists!"

And come they did. In one unified motion, the horde changed direction and swarmed towards Xaijin once again. From all directions they assailed him, and in all directions he repulsed them. He swept out the spine he was holding, breaking it into pieces against the first row of oncoming soldiers. He let it go, the force he swung it with carrying it deep into their ranks, even as he launched himself backwards into the undead rushing him from behind. His foot lanced out towards them, and the power of his kick tore the ground apart in a straight line in front of him. Bones split apart as the rocks burst open beneath them, accompanied by the crushing shock of Xaijin's attack. The explosion splintered their vanguard, and before they could recover the legendary outlaw himself was deep in their ranks.

Odessa watched from atop the parapet in a sick amazement, almost forgetting to cast the healing spells he had demanded. She still could not, because every time she tried he was suddenly in another place. He was a blur of constant motion, with only the wail of the undead to mark his passing. A cloud of bone dust was filling the air again as he chewed through their numbers with his fists. Every time they managed to swarm him over, he simply fought back out again, tearing his way through them to the marrow. He broke the ribs off of one and used them to stab another through its vacant eyes. When one slashed him with his rusted axe, he tore the weapon - and its arms - free from its body, then used them to break the thing in half. The undead monsters he seemed to have the most fun with. Sometimes he would actually leap inside their empty, rotting ribs and break them apart from the inside. Other times he would rip off one of their enormous legs, bludgeoning them into powder with it before moving on.

The orgy of violence he was creating was having an impossibly fast effect. He was destroying them so quickly that the horde which had blanketed the hills outside of Oztroja an hour before could now all be contained in the valley before the castle. With unwavering single-mindedness, they sped into the end of their unnatural lives. Bit by bit, Xaijin grinded away at them, his knuckles now dripping blood from constant contact with shattered bone. As another result of their rapidly diminishing numbers, the sound of his laughter was beginning to overpower that of their haunting cries.

Thrusting himself forward, Xaijin launched headlong into the horde, his outstretched hands tearing the spines from two skeletons as he accelerated through them without pausing. He twirled the outstretched bones, bleached batons in his palms crushing their way through everything they came in contact with. Pulling one back, he cracked it like a whip, sending bones hurtling out in front of him. The projectiles crushed through everything they came in contact with, vertebrae smashing through the undead and leaving them with chunks of their decrepit bodies missing. By the time Xaijin had beaten the spines in his hands into dust, there was a mound of skeletons all around him, crawling as best they could with shattered legs, spines, or skulls.

The undying army which had enveloped the landscape of Meriphataud Mountains laid in ruins, its tattered remnants vainly trying to struggle their way towards the unstoppable force tearing through them. Xaijin stood at the epicenter of the unfathomable violence, looking with some annoyance at his bleeding hands. Hundreds of cuts and scrapes made his body as red as his hair, matted now with blood and bone dust. There was an electric swirl of energy around him as he shot a glance up towards the parapets of Castle Oztroja.

"What the hell are you doing, woman?" He shouted up in anger. "I'm practically bleeding out!"

"Well stay still for a damn second!" Odessa shouted down in response. She had her staff in the air, a bluish-white haze of magic swirling around her. An eruption of chi burst from underneath Xaijin's feet as he struggled to remain still, grinding his teeth in annoyance. As she released her magic, Odessa's web of ethereal light blossomed around his bleeding body. Open wounds began sealing over as severed skin and arteries knit themselves back together. He took a sharp breath as a feeling like being dunked in ice water swept over him, releasing the sigh as it passed.

"Hmph," he stared at his hands, wiping the blood off his palms. "My clothes are still in tatters," he complained.

"White magic can't knit clothes, idiot!" Odessa raged down at him. "Find a tailor! And your clothes were ruined already!"

"You're a woman, aren't you! You should be able to sew!"

"Go die in a fire!"

"I'll - "

Whatever it was Xaijin would do, it was cut off as a scepter of black light sliced across the battlefield. Instinctively, he dove to the ground as the energy swept past him, arching sharply up into the air. Odessa screamed, throwing up a protective ward as the obsidian wave struck the parapet beneath her, slicing completely through. The structure shook, trembling as its weight suddenly became unsupported, and then rapidly disintegrated beneath her. The White Mage lashed out desperately for a handhold as the tower tumbled down, finding nothing. Within moments she was in freefall, the ground rapidly rising up to catch her.

She lurched to a halt as something grabbed onto her. Her shoulder, still not recovered from her arrow wound, cried out as it was wrenched to a stop. Dangling for a moment, the shock overrode the pain as she looked down at the ground several hundred feet below, and then up to see what had her arm.

Xaijin's fingers were digging into the stones of Oztroja, and his eyes were blazing red as he stared out at the battlefield. Odessa turned her head, and instantly was drawn to the figure now in the midst of the undead army.

Xolotl, the Corse King, ancient scourge of mankind, had taken the field.

"How did you . . . ?" She looked down at where the Elvaan had been standing, compared to the impossible distance he had covered in a moment's time.

"I have strong legs," he said dismissively. As if to illustrate his point, he suddenly lashed out with one leg, crushing the wall inwards to reveal the innards of Oztroja. He haphazardly tossed her inside, where she tumbled head over heels with a thud and flurry of white robes.

"Hey!" She winced against the pain in her arm. "That was - "

"Stay back," he warned. "I'm not going to hold back anymore."

"But - " He cut her off with a glance. The red-haired Elvaan was not smiling anymore.

Without another word, he released his grip and hurtled towards the ground. This time there was no shockwave upon his landing, no crater caused by impact. He fell like a stone, landing in a crouch with his fist pointed down. Slowly, he raised his head, locking on to the ancient horror waiting across the battlefield.

Xolotl was tall, higher than seven feet, his rattling bones covered in blue robes tattered with age. Bone fingers wrapped around a length of gnarled and crooked wood, the staff surmounted with a trio of skulls, bones dangling from it at steady intervals. In his grasp, ancient runes carved into it glowed a ruddy and angry red. Tendrils of inky black smoke crept out from beneath the folds of his robes, a deadly miasma which stained the ground where he walked. His undead warriors crowded around him, snapping their jaws and baying like angry hounds at their master's feet.

Xaijin licked the blood off of his fists, intently watching the Corse King. The ancient Lich spoke, though the bones of his skull did not move. A voice simply echoed outwards from him, a hollow and dead voice that carried nightmares in its timbre.

"I will add you to my collection of bones," his voice declared without preamble. Just like that he thrust out his staff, and the undead horde charged forward again en masse. There were still thousands of them, clattering and howling, rushing towards Xaijin with renewed furor.

He watched with excitement swelling in his eyes. "This is the fight I wanted," he said. "I'm done with the rest of you."

With those words, he stretched out a single hand, and for a moment the light returned to Meriphataud Mountains.

A pulsating beam of energy made purely from his own chi burst outwards from his palm. The blinding white light stretched out over everything in front of him, sparing nothing in his line of sight. It made a sound, a booming rush like a hurricane blowing past all in one go, shaking everything within the walls of Oztroja. Xaijin's muscles bulged as his look of concentration twisted into a sneer of pleasure. Like a flame sputtering out, the light died at his hand and within moments has flickered out everywhere else as well.

All that remained of Xolotl's army was a field of cinders and ash, smoking atop a rocky ground where not a spot of frost remained. At the beginning of it Xaijin stood, lowering his still-glowing hand. At the other, the Corse King stared without reaction at the destruction, the few skeletons at his side the only ones left.

"I can be pretty scary, huh?" Xaijin grinned.

"They are as nothing to me, fool," Xolotl replied. "Destroy a thousand, a million of my slaves, and you will still have yet to touch my power."

"That's all I've wanted to do this whole time," the Elvaan replied. Like a shot, he ran forward, closing the distance between them. "They were just getting in my way!"

"Bring me his flesh," Xolotl ordered, and the last remnants of his force ran forward. "He will serve me yet."

Xolotl's twisted black staff, charged with the foulest eldritch might the undead sorcerer could muster, rained down ebon fire upon Xaijin. Still the Elvaan came, pulverizing rocks with every step as he ran towards the ancient enemy of life. His movements were impossible to follow, the only marking of his passing explosions of force where his aura smashed Xolotl's retainers into unrecognizable bits. With every passing second he grew closer, racing headlong into confrontation with the Corse King himself.

"Chattel," Xolotl hissed, slicing his staff through the air, "prepare for slaughter." A wall of black flame leaped up in front of him, scouring the ground with the taint of his magic. A cloud of dust shot up in front of it as Xaijin stopped short at its edge, ebon fire singing strands of his crimson hair. He straightened his neck, tossing back his fiery mane and staring with a cutting gaze at the towering skeleton.

"What's wrong?" Xaijin asked. "Too afraid to let me come near you?"

"Pitiful flesh," the Corse King hissed, "I am fear itself." At his words, the flames in front of Xaijin raced through the ground, encircling the Elvaan. A black miasma began spreading within the confines of the burning wall, choking the air from everything within it. "This miasma will consume you, and then I will grind your bones into nothing."

"Hh," Xaijin looked around the fiery tomb surrounding him, and then back through the black inferno to Xolotl. "This is supposed to be scary?"

"You will know fear," Xolotl cried, "I am - "

A torrent of white light surged from Xaijin's core, its ferocious might blasting apart Xolotl's black fire. The flames vanished into the air with a sputter, the Elvaan's unamused face emerging from their embrace.

"You're an idiot," Xaijin said quietly, "because I am fear."

The dust barely had time to be kicked up at his feet before Xaijin had charged forward, directly towards the Corse King.

Miasma burst up from the ground around Xolotl. With speed belying his size, he spun away from Xaijin's initial assault. His twisted staff glowed anew, and the poisonous fumes converged on the Elvaan. Just as quickly, Xaijin was off again. The warlock searched with hollow sockets for his quarry, and then looked up to find Xaijin plummeting down upon him from above. A primal cry of hatred escaping him, he thrust up his staff to impale the red-haired Elvaan upon it.

Xaijin's hands were faster, and his hands wrapped around the weapon as he came down, tearing it from Xolotl's hands. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he swung downwards with all his might. A crack of lightning accompanied by an unholy wailing and an expulsion of violent darkness escapes as the black shaft split in two on the ground, shattered by Xaijin's hands. Without even noting the phenomenon, he immediately spun back around and stabbed the half of its length still in his hands directly into the chest of the Corse King.

Xolotl cried in fury, staggering back as the broken remnants of his staff protruded from him. A dark fire burned in his eyes, black liquid flames spilling up from his mouth and dripping down onto the ground. Roaring insanely, he lunged for Xaijin with both hands, only to have his fingers locked between those of his quarry. The Elvaan and the Corse stood locked there, Xolotl pressing down on him as miasma dripped from his bones. Xaijin struggled, gritting his teeth as he was forced down to one knee, bracing himself against the frigid touch and unholy might of Xolotl.

And then he clenched his fists, breaking through Xolotl's bones and severing his fingers entirely. With his next motion he stood back up as he yanked backwards, and the Lich let out a demonic wail as his arms were torn free from their sockets.

Like a whirlwind, Xaijin launched forward, the thick bones of Xolotl's arms still held in his fists. Mercilessly, he rained down blows, using the Corse King's own arms to crack through his bones. Xolotl could not retaliate as the Elvaan splintered his ribs, cracked his skull, and shattered his spine, using bones which had moments before been his own as a weapon. His smile firmly carved into his face, Xaijin tossed one of the arms down, breaking it on the frozen ground. Then with both hands, he straightened out the other one and thrust it out like a spear, breaking through the Corse King's jaw and teeth and letting it explode out the back of his skull.

"This is . . . you cannot . . . " the words from Xolotl's skull were stunted as his body wavered back and forth, unsteady on its broken limbs. Xaijin lashed his arm up, taking hold of the towering fiend's jaw and bringing him down to look directly in the hollow sockets of his eyes. The festering miasma oozing out of him dissipated at the touch of Xaijin's monstrous aura.

"Tell me, Corse," he shouted, "are you scared of me yet?"

He did not wait for a reply. Xolotl struggled fruitlessly to break free from his grasp, but could not before Xaijin's other hand broke through his already-shattered sternum. The former prisoner began to glow, steam rising rapidly from his body, and as the Lich's struggling grew more frantic, so did his laughter rise.

White light poured out of Xolotl's skeleton, burning through him from the core. First came a blinding flash, and then a horrifying scream.

When it ended, Xaijin stood alone. A pile of burnt robes was at his feet, and still-smoking cinders of blackened bone rained down over him. All other traces of the horror which lurked Attowha Chasm since time long forgotten were gone, scoured from Vana'diel completely. Still smirking, Xaijin lowered his arm, looking slowly back towards Castle Oztroja.

"Tch . . ." Xaijin spun, raising his fists at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. "Looks like I was right to go ahead of the rest."

Behind him, standing atop a jutting rock formation, was a man in armor. If the cold was bothering him, he didn't show it as he stood bare-faced to the wind, a half-burned cigarette lingering in his mouth. One gauntlet-covered hand was planted on his waist, the other grasped the hilt of an absurdly large sword which he held behind his back. Its length was all but completely covered in white cloth, wrapped like bandages and held on by leather straps. He was an Elvaan as well, and also red-haired, though his was cropped shorter, and his build was thicker than Xaijin's by a fair amount.

"And who are you?"

The man sighed, flicking out the stub of tobacco left in his mouth and dragging his sword out from over his shoulder. "Mertron." He waved off the other Elvaan when he opened his mouth. "Don't sweat it, everybody knows who you are." Looking out across the battlefield, he shook his head regretfully. "That bone guy was supposed to make sure we'd avoid having to do this, you know? You're pretty bad news."

"Us," Xaijin repeated, his smile starting to creep back. "So you're with the army heading this way?"

"For now. I'm a mercenary, and they paid me to kill you. I don't suppose you can pay more?"

"Brother, I just got out of jail an hour ago, and before that I was a Monk. I don't even remember what money looks like."

"I was afraid of that." Mertron sighed again, and with one hand he started snapping free the leather restraints on his sword. One by one they flew off, and the white cloth enveloping it quickly unraveled. Xaijin took a surprised step back as an ominous wave of energy suddenly shot through him, enough to make the ground tremble. From underneath the cloth, a bright golden glow was radiating outwards.

"I don't really like doing this," the mercenary told him, taking the weapon in both hands. The cloth fell away entirely, revealing an entire blade burning with golden flame. From where he was, Xaijin could clearly feel its power as Mertron held it aloft. "But, you'd probably be a big problem down the line, so I have to take you off the board now. Sorry, Xaijin," he suddenly took to the air, heaving his sword up and cleaving downward with impossible speed, "but this is Ragnarok."

Chapter C: The Prisoner

Behind the grimy, iron-wrought bars of his cell, the prisoner's smile cut into Rykoshet like a knife. His soulless eyes burned wickedly as they looked at one another. The distance between them was marked by a stone door and iron bars, yet when Rykoshet looked into his eyes it felt like his hands were around his throat. The crushing force of the man's aura was stronger than he had ever felt it, pure murderous intent begging to be released.

"Rykoshet, for the love of Altana," Odessa was pleading with him, "don't do this. You know what he is."

"What are you going to do, Rykoshet?" The prisoner's voice was tinged with unfathomable malice. "Whatever you've got planned sure has the lady all worked up."

The two locked eyes, and Rykoshet had to brace himself to keep from stepping back. He knew the shackles the man wore bound his power, but something about the sheer weight of his presence instilled fear.

Just as assuredly as there was a monster waiting outside Oztroja in the form of Xolotl, there was another one locked within it.

"I want to make a deal with you," he said firmly, standing his ground. "We need you, you need us, this shouldn't be difficult to negotiate."

"Rykoshet," Fated was standing near the entrance to the dungeon, his young face aghast. "After everything this man has done, you want to bargain with him? We can't!"

"Listen to him," Odessa urged, "there has to be another way."

"Fated, you get out of here, and you too, Konstantine," he said to the Tarutaru at his side. "We're leaving as soon as I'm done here. I'll fill you in on the way."

"I won't let you do this," Odessa said firmly, and a surge of magic washed over him. "There is no excuse for letting him go free, Rykoshet." She stamped her foot down, hands gripping the shaft of her staff tightly as she held it forward.

Rykoshet stared at her, letting loose the shackles on his own power. A torrent of dark energy rushed out to meet her light. "This is the only option, Odessa. If there was another choice I would take it."

"This is wrong!" She shouted, pointing her staff at him. "There is no reason to involve ourselves with a . . . an animal like this . . . thing!"

"Do not stand in my way, Odessa!" Rykoshet's voice rose to a low roar, the narrow dungeon hall around him starting to shake.

"I won't let you make a mistake like this!"

"It's not your call! Let me do the job I - "

"Wait." The sound of the prisoner's voice from within his cell immediately grabbed their attention. "When did I ever agree to helping you?"

The words were like a blow to both of them, shattering their concentration. "B-but -" Rykoshet stammered, "I'm offering to let you out of there."

"I don't know if I'm ready to come out yet," he stared at Rykoshet from beneath hooded brows, his smile a grim rictus. "Why should I want to?"

Anger wrapped over him, staving off exhaustion and fear, forcing his legs forward. The next thing he knew he was face-to-face with the grinning man, staring at him through the bars on his door.

"You have continued to live at my discretion." He snarled. "They only keep feeding you because I told them to."

"Was that really you . . . ?" He wondered aloud, expression not changing.

"Listen to me!" Rykoshet was shouting now. "There's an army about to storm the gates. They're probably here already. Once they get in they'll kill everything in sight. You'll be no exception." His gaze was burning with intensity. "You'll die alone in this cell. I'm giving you a chance to defend yourself."

"What army could possibly kill me?"

The question took him completely off-guard. Not because he found it arrogant, but simply because he could not find an answer right away.

"Rykoshet," Odessa was pleading again, "let's forget about this. Xolotl must be here by now. We can fight our way through it. We're just wasting time."

"Xolotl, huh?" The prisoner raised his shackled hands up, scratching his head. "Sounds like you guys are in real trouble." Baring his teeth as his lips curled back, he turned away and laid down in the corner. "Well, let me know how it turns out."

He stared at him, a feeling of helplessness mixing with a cold and bitter anger. The man in the cell gave no indication of caring. Infuriatingly, he stretched out, turned on his side, and curled up to fall asleep. In almost the same moment, a distant clatter began to echo down to the dungeon. Xolotl's army was nearly upon them.

Hanging his head, Rykoshet let his hands slide off of the door. A long and painful silence stretched out between them.

"What do you want?"

The prisoner turned his head, eyes blazing as his grim smirk turned fierce. "A pearl," he replied without hesitation.

"Wh - oh, no," Odessa looked scandalized. "There's no way."

In one motion, he leaped to his feet. In an eyeblink he was pressed against the bars, fingers grasping them tightly. "That's the price for my service."

"Why would you possibly want a linkpearl?" Rykoshet was genuinely confused.

"Because if you give me a pearl, you're responsible for me. Everything I do from here on out is on your heads. I'm part of your group. You'll share in all that I do." His eyes could have burned through the door. "Or maybe I just want some new friends, what does it matter? That's what I'm asking, take it or leave it."

"This is insane," Odessa threw up her hands. "How can we even think of - "

Her words were cut off as Rykoshet grabbed the shell he had strung around her neck, channeling his chi into it. A candy-colored pearl fell out of it and into his grasp.

"Rykoshet, no!"

"I give you this," his voice was deathly serious, "you give your word to help us through this. You don't harm anyone living in this castle. Otherwise I leave you in there to rot."

For the first time, the prisoner's smile disappeared. Rykoshet and Odessa both were startled at the sudden stark intensity on his face. "You have my word," he promised. "Hand me that pearl and I'll let you take my shackles off."

"That's - " he shook his head. "Alright."

Reaching into his belt, Rykoshet removed the keyring he had kept on his person at nearly all times. On it was the only key that opened this particular cell. Odessa turned away as he turned the lock, and with a resounding creaking sound, the door fell open.

The prisoner within stepped into the light. His hair was long and shaggy, matted from lack of care. He wore only simple prison clothes, a tattered set of loose-fitting shirt and pants which revealed the taut and pronounced muscle of his torso. With eyes like two gleaming sapphires, he extended his chained hands towards Rykoshet, the smile slowly returning to his face.

Bracing himself for what he was about to do, Rykoshet chose a second key and slid it into the shackles. With an audible click, the restraints came loose, falling from his wrists and clattering onto the floor.

A moment passed between the two as they stood, staring at one another, neither one moving an inch.

Then Odessa's scream shattered the stillness as Rykoshet's body smashed against the thick stone wall.

Groaning, he slid to the floor, the prisoner's hand snatching the pearl he had held out of the air. He smiled wickedly as it gleamed in the torchlight, and then his attention snapped towards Odessa. "Hello there, pretty," he drawled as he advanced upon her.

"No!" She shouted, raising a barrier of white magic. She might as well have been using damp paper. Before she could react, the ground was flying by as the prisoner snatched her off her feet and hurled her over his shoulder.

The dungeon was beginning to shake. Stones were crumbling from the walls and a feeling of crushing dread was overtaking her. This, she realized, was the prisoner's chi unleashed after untold years of being constrained. The castle was groaning beneath his feet, the air growing hot. She could swear that his body was swelling, growing bigger by the second. Fated, still at the door, was shouting something as he drew his sword. The next thing she knew, they were bounding up the stairs, the Paladin laying face-down on the dungeon floor.

His energy was like a battering ram, and his laughter a terrifying warning bell as they sped through the halls. Odessa was trying to scream in protest, to stir her magic and free herself, but the man's crushing aura was preventing her from doing much more than breathing. The ground suddenly grew smaller very rapidly, and she realized he had jumped, breaking free from the constraints of gravity. Brick and mortar rained over her, and she knew they had broken through the ceiling of a lower floor. His laugh was intensifying, an insane, endless laughter that drowned out every other noise around it. The force of his power kept increasing, impossible as it seemed that he might yet grow stronger, with every passing instance he did just that. People were being thrown back by nothing more than his presence. Magic users were crying out in anguish as they passed by. No one made any attempt to stop him, to even get close was to be hurled carelessly aside.

She saw stairs blurring beneath her as he ran ever faster, ever higher into the castle. She felt disoriented, helpless. She hated the feeling, and fury welled up inside of her as she redoubled her efforts to break free. Railing with all the might she had, Odessa forced up the magic within her, drawing it out to strike down the man holding her captive.

And then, just like that, she was free.

An icy wind struck her in the face, and she gasped as she looked down. They were on the highest parapet in Oztroja, overlooking all of the surrounding area. Darkness enveloped the sky, and reanimated bones held the land. Oztroja was adrift in a sea of evil, and she stood at its peak, with only the wild-eyed prisoner beside her. He set her down, surveying the area with hawkish eyes. The man was smiling again, looking out at the vast and horrifying ranks of the undead closing in on Oztroja. They were at the gates now, hammering upon the unyielding iron doors, climbing over one another in an effort to reach inside the castle. Hovering in the distance, behind where the first conflict had already begun, Xolotl watched with a hunger for death emanating from him.

If Xolotl exuded the cold touch of the grave, then standing next to the prisoner was like walking upon the sun.

"Stay here," he barked at her, turning his fierce gaze upon her. "Keep me standing."

"What are you doing?" She demanded.

"I made a promise," he held up the linkpearl, still in his grasp, baring his teeth. "Now do as I say."

And with that, he hurled himself over the ledge.

With a shocked cry, Odessa ran towards the edge, watching him slice through the air, plummeting to the ground below.

For the prisoner, every jet of frigid air against his skin was invigorating. He could feel his muscles stretching out for the first time in years. His body ached with the desire to be used again, to be given that which it had been denied. Try as he might, he simply could not stop smiling. A fit of laughter overtook him again as the ground quickly rushed up towards him. The power he had been made to keep in check for so long as now surging through his veins. A blazing streak of his chi cut the air like a knife as he passed through. Beneath him, he could see eyeless skulls beginning to turn upwards, looking at the meteoric energy heading their way. Again, he could not help but laugh.

He struck the ground, and there was a moment of utter stillness which lasted the length of a heart's beat.

Frozen dirt and caked mud exploded into the air. The undead surrounding the immediate area of impact were pulverized in an instant, bone dust swirling together with the untold tons of sediment torn free by his landing. A shockwave rippled through Xolotl's legions, and as one they turned towards the cataclysmic disturbance. The noise was unbearable, an explosion which rocked Oztroja to its foundation, shattering glass well within its walls. The winds stirred the explosive outpouring into a vast cloud, obscuring all within it.

It lasted only moments, until a blazing white light dispelled the entire mass, spreading it into the ether. Where the prisoner had landed, a crater now marred the ground, deeper than any man stood, wider than a grown dragon. At its heart, fist down, the prisoner stared at his hands, watching the power race through them.

Slowly, he stood, clenching and unclenching his fingers before taking a deep lungful of winter air.

"Finally," he said, looking at his unchained wrists, "free at last."

With that, the light flowing off of him changed from bright white to violent red, spiking through the air with a force which threw back the skeletons gathering near the crater's mouth.

He was laughing again, he realized. He made no effort to contain himself. This was more than he could have hoped for. Let loose from his shackles, with an army waiting for him to test his strength on. He could see, he could hear, he could feel everything around him. The bones of the assembled undead surrounding him, some coarse, others smooth, all varying shades of black and white. Some he could taste magic on, flaring within the empty confines of their cursed skulls. Others there was only steel to contend with, some weapons worn and tasting of rust, some well-oiled and sharpened. There were monsters in this army, hulking bones of creatures which had not existed in mortal memory, and beastmen of all kinds, for Xolotl made no distinction between one corpse and another.

There was an explosion behind him, consigning those charging down the crater towards him to spend eternity as dust as he launched himself from the crater. He came down just outside its mouth, his red aura stretching towards the sky, shattering rocks as it came in contact with them. Dust stirred at his feet as his presence warded off winter's touch, freeing the sands of Meriphataud hidden beneath the frost. By now, it was clear he was an immediate danger to the invading horde, and its full attention was being focused on him. Even those which had begun to scale Oztroja's walls were dropping back down, rushing towards him with single-minded focus. Their numbers were overwhelming.

He smiled again, and his aura went from red to black.

The explosive release of power shook loose the stones of Oztroja, throwing people within its confines from their feet. Bones broke and shattered all around him as the air turned blacker still. He opened his eyes wide, tendrils of dark chi swirling from between his teeth as he smiled. The laughter he could not hold back was suddenly deeper, almost demonic, as the form of a death's head took shape above him.

Atop Oztroja's highest tower, Odessa watched in disbelief. The man was using Soul Eater.

"I am . . . free . . . " Absentmindedly, he smashed his aura forward like a battering ram, crushing a column of skeletons rushing towards him. "I am . . . " he brought his eyes up, and they were glowing hotter than any star anyone had ever seen. "I am hungry!" He snarled, laughing again. "I want to grind your bones endlessly beneath my fists! I want to rend the earth under my heel! I want to fight! Do you hear me?!" He clenched his fists, the fury of his aura screaming around him. "I want to fight FOREVER!"

The ground buckled beneath his feet as he pressed down upon it.

"I - "

At the touch of his fist, an undead warrior burst into so much powder, weapons melting into hot scrap. In droves they fell as he pushed forward, and Vana'diel trembled at his every motion.

"AM - "

An earthquake began in Meriphataud Mountains, a constantly increasing tremor with a roving epicenter. At his every motion, the ground shook, the air quivered, and his aura scorched all it touched. There was so much he wanted to shout out, to remind the world he was here, to let out years of pent-up violence. He was the deadliest outlaw in the world. He was the greatest fighter who ever lived. He was unstoppable, untouchable. He was back, let loose to bring down brutality unlike anything ever visited upon his enemies. Yet all those things, he decided, could be summed up in just one word.

His towering aura devoured everything in his path as he launched forward, fists-first, the long and shaggy locks of tangled, fire-red hair blowing back past his Elvaan ears. Even above the tumult of the man-made disaster he was creating, everybody heard when he shouted his name.

"XAIJIN!"

Chapter LX: No Easy Way Out

Odessa didn’t know what to do. She could only stare at the lifeless body she held in her arms. Middlesky’s eyes gazed back up into hers.

The light had gone out of them. He lay dead on the ground.

She scarcely even noticed when Fated burst through the tunnel behind her. He sped forward like a man possessed. With the metallic clang of steel against steel, an arrow splintered against his shield. The Paladin turned with panic-stricken eyes, reaching out his hand towards Odessa. He was shouting something. Demons howled as they drew nearer, and she could not hear him. Her head turned as madness unfolded around her.

Demons were touching down from above her. They came in droves, masses of fangs and claws with horribly glowing eyes. There had to be fifty or more; perched over rocks, stomping across the ground, flying overhead. Shouts in the hideous demon language tore into her. They were closing in. Odessa shook her head, fighting for clarity. The Goblins were dead. They had killed the Goblins. If this was a trap all along, why do that? Middlesky was dead.

They hadn’t killed Middlesky or the Goblins. Odessa realized the demons had nothing to do with it. She didn’t see a bow among them.

She raised her head and looked dead in front of her. Forty paces away, a man holding a great bow stood amongst the demons.

The Hume’s auburn hair was cropped short, and mostly hidden beneath a broad-brimmed and conical hat. His body was draped in a garment of white with a blue cloak streaming down from it. It was plated with elaborate armor across the middle, a creation of intricate goldwork and exotic fabrics. There was an arrow burning black fire across its blade nocked in the bow he held, already drawn back. He stared right back at Odessa, and without hesitation, let the arrow fly.

Odessa was knocked aside as Raidom dove in the way. She heard him grunt as it pierced the thick plate surrounding his shoulder, sinking into flesh underneath. The Dark Knight’s head rose with fury in his eyes as he brandished the enormous sword he held. Feeding off of his own pain, he rose in a fog of blood-hued power rising from his body. The demons held their ground, laughing at Raidom as he brandished his great sword. Fated took up his flank, and the two stood back to back over Odessa. They were both saying something she couldn’t make out. Her eyes were locked on the archer.

He lowered his bow, raising one leather-gloved hand instead. At the snap of his fingers, twin portals of quivering darkness blossomed on either side of him. They faded to reveal two newcomers. An Elvaan with hair black as night stepped forward, covered in ornate armor of silver and gold. A sword with a golden blade was held in one of his gauntleted hands, and the other grasped a shield which he held at the ready. On the other side of the archer, a Hume had materialized. The polar opposite of the Elvaan, his hair was long and brown, and spilled out from underneath a demonic helmet as black as the night. The Hume’s armor was all dark as the helmet, covered in thick plates and wicked spikes, inlaid with a purple metal Odessa had never seen before. The construction of the breastplate gave the impression of exposed ribs. The Hume held out an enormous scythe, as black as his armor, and both he and the Elvaan stepped towards Fated and Raidom, raising their weapons menacingly.

The archer said something to them, but the howling of the demons kept Odessa from hearing. There were so many demons. The realization that she was going to die here began to sink in.

Steadily advancing, the archer’s own Paladin and Dark Knight came forward deliberately. Demons dropped down out of the sky as they did, taking up ranks behind them. Even as they did so, the Kindred around Odessa closed in their circle. They had no way out. Raidom hefted his sword, and as he did so a demon charged in ahead of the others. With a mighty cleave, Raidom swung his sword down at the monster, slicing its chest open as it got too close. It cried out in anger, deep black blood oozing from its wound. That was enough to open the floodgates. The rest of the demons poured in.

Like a shot from a Bastokan cannon, Celeres burst forth from the cave. The Monk’s body was glowing red, flames of his aura visible to the eye. He propelled himself past Raidom and Fated, and one of his clawed fists found its home in the chest of the wounded demon. A spew of black blood flew from its mouth, but before it could even topple over, Celeres ripped his hand free and turned to the next one. The Monk caught a swing from one of their jagged, hooked swords in a guard, lashing out with his other hand to leave three bone-deep lacerations across the demon’s face. Even as he did, the swarm moved in on him. Two were down, a small army remained.

Odessa could hear the strikes of weapon upon weapon as Fated and Raidom stood poised over her, defending her at risk of their own lives. She felt magic welling up nearby, and turned to see the Dark Knight the archer had summoned raising one of his hands. Fire bloomed in his grasp, and he shot the incendiary spell towards Raidom with deadly accuracy. Even as the Lieutenant drove back a demon with his sword, he lashed out with a burst of his own fire. The two bolts collided in midair, sending a shower of arcane sparks across the battlefield. The sensation of magic being called grew ten times over in Odessa’s head. Not all of the demons were warriors, she realized.

Fire and ice rained down upon them. Celeres was blasted aside by a bolt of lightning. Raidom was struck three times at once, his armor splintering under the force of the spells called down on him. Fated burst into flames, then froze simultaneously. The Paladin fell to the ground, and then released his own magic. Curative force washed over him, illuminating his being. The mage demons were standing well behind the advancing throng, Odessa could see now, grasping their gnarled staves in preparation for another barrage.

Their chance to strike again was taken away as suddenly a song swept across them. Eig had made her way silently towards the mage line, and all at once released the power of her spellsong. The light in the demons eyes dimmed visibly, and all at once the group of casters toppled over in a haze of magic-induced sleep. Almost instantly, Eig shrieked as a demon wielding a broad axe leaped towards her, with intent to cut the Bard in two. Celeres, however, tackled her, and both went tumbling across the ground towards where Odessa still sat perched over Middlesky’s body.

A demon slashed Raidom across the face, blood spilling out on the green grass beneath him. The Dark Knight countered with a strike of his own, slicing open the monster’s gut all the way to its spine. Two more appeared where it fell. Behind her, Fated was being battered relentlessly by a tide he could not possibly hold back.

Three of the demons were dead. Some eight or ten were asleep in the power of Eig’s spellsong. Close to forty were still on their feet and closing in. The archer stood stock still as he watched the situation unfold, his two surrogates coming closer with every second.

“Odessa!” a voice reached her ears. She turned to see Eig, the Mithra shouting at her despite being only a few feet away. “Get us out of here, Odessa! A spell! A spell!”

She stared at her, and then cast a desperate look at Middlesky’s body. The dead could not travel the way Eig was suggesting.

“We have to save the living, Odessa!” Eig screamed. “Teleport us out!”

The words struck her like a slap to the face. As a White Mage, the greatest failure she could suffer was letting someone in her care die. She had saved Raidom when they found him lying near death in the mountains. She kept Betrayil alive when Tzee Xicu had nearly killed him. She rescued Rykoshet when the Roc had torn him to pieces. Now Middlesky was dead, and she had never even been given the chance to save him.

She looked up from the body, and saw Fated buckle down to one knee. He held his shield firm as the demons pounded down over him. A shell of his chi crackled forth, hardening the very air around them as he used his reserves of energy to defend the others. Raidom grunted as a demon struck his arm, almost causing him to drop his weapon. All at once, however, a cascade of dark energy swirled over him as the Dark Knight called upon the power of his Souleater. Standing his ground to defend Odessa was worth the cost of his own life. Celeres hacked with his steel-bladed claws, each strike losing momentum as he simply ran out of strength. They would be dead in seconds.

The Paladin and the Dark Knight across the field from them halted. The archer had given them some sort of command.

Odessa knew Eig was right. She could not fail again.

White magic swelled within her being, reaching out into the void. Searching, seeking a point to hone in on. She knew what she was looking for. She only needed to maintain her concentration long enough to find it. Redoubling her effort, a haze of white light began surging around her. The image of her teammates held fast in her mind, she zeroed in on what she wanted. She sought a point of power, a node of the eldritch force which held Vana’diel together. Her thoughts swept across the continent, across Sauromugue, over the Meriphataud Mountains, and finally into what she sought. The image of a great crystal came to life in her mind.

A demon swooped down from above and took Fated by surprise. The Paladin’s armor cracked as his shield was knocked from his hands. He collapsed to the ground, and the demon raised his sword to strike Odessa down. Celeres tackled the fiend, rushing into it with his shoulder and propelling both of them into the clutch of demons surrounding them. Raidom released his devastating energy, slicing through one of the monsters with such ferocity that his swing ripped it completely in half. No sooner had he done so, however, then a demon’s axe fell on his arm, breaking his gauntlets and perhaps his bones. His sword fell to the ground as he gave a cry of agony. The two Humes and the Elvaan watching the fight observed dispassionately.

The archer’s eyes fell on Odessa. Without changing expression, he pulled back another arrow.

The magic welled up inside Odessa finally reached its peak. She threw one arm towards the sky, with the image of the Crag of Mea fixed in her mind’s eye. Around her, the terrain began to shift. Sweeping vistas of green grass and verdant fields melted away to broad chasms and endless rock. The scent of rolanberries was replaced by stale dust. Odessa’s magic reached out for the power of the crystal, and pulled her and those around her away from where they stood. Latching on to it, she let the crystal take her in, take them all to safety. Away from the demons, away from the death.

The archer’s arrow struck her just below the shoulder, sliding under her clavicle and piercing through her back. Blood immediately began staining both sides of her snowy white robes. She released her spell in the same instant, but shock and pain overcame her. Something twisted inside of her, and she knew something had gone terribly wrong. The faces of the others swirled around her. She could see Fated raising his head. Raidom was valiantly standing his ground, though he could not lift his arms. Celeres ran towards her, his fists bloodied as he shouted something which was lost in the embrace of her spell.

There was a surge of white magic which shook the ground as Odessa’s concentration splintered at the moment of completion. In the next moment, they were gone.

The spell was complete. They were safe.

Celeres stared out from the Crag of Mea. One of several points of such concentrated energy that one with enough skill could actually focus in on it and teleport there. Tahrongi Canyon stretched out around them. A day or two marching north and they would be back in Oztroja. It appeared Antiqix would be spared.

Fated lay on his back, trying to rise. Raidom was barely holding on to consciousness. Odessa turned and saw the arrow sticking out of her shoulder, and was taken aback by the amount of blood staining her robes.

That was not their greatest problem at all, in her mind.

Her spell had been interrupted at the exact moment of release. Celeres, Raidom, and Fated had all come with her, appearing where she intended. In that split second of having her concentration shattered, however, her spell had been altered, splintered as her concentration.

Eig was not with them. And Odessa had no idea where the Bard had been sent.

She sat on her knees, looking up at the sky as night crept over them. They had all been wounded. Eig was gone. Middlesky was dead.

Silently, Odessa prayed to Altana, not having the strength to fight the tears which came streaming down.


The archer stepped forward towards the scorched grass. The demons howled their frustration all around him, but he did not bother to call for silence. On the ground, the body of the Red Mage he had shot lay still. Two Goblins were not far off, each as dead as the mage.

“The Goblins are in the nest, like we thought,” he told the two at his side. They shared a look, and then awaited further orders. The archer himself was thinking about what his next move should be.

“Forget about them,” he ordered finally, standing and turning away. A few Goblins were hardly worth the effort compared to what they had just discovered. “Lahhan,” he ordered the Paladin, “go back to Doshu. Tell him what we saw. MacBeth, you’re with me.” The Dark Knight nodded in acquiescence, holstering his scythe in place at his back.

“What should I say to Doshu, Eudon?” the Paladin asked.

The archer stared at the scorch marks in the ground.

“Tell him we know where the survivors are hiding.”

Chapter LVIX: What Happened Next

One could tell when Rolanberry Fields was near. It was a location that you had to go to in order to appreciate. It was more than a simple place. The sprawling miles of hills, mountains, and endless fields were an experience. You went to Rolanberry Fields to be there, to see and smell and taste the landscape. Unique on the continent, it could be dazzling to someone whom had never been there before. Even having traveled across the length and breadth of it several times in her life, Odessa still took a moment to appreciate the natural beauty.

Everything as far as the eye could see was green. Acres of grass spread out before them, waving gently upon the warm touch of a midday breeze. Trees dotted the scenery, playful birches and maples which invited one to rest beneath their shade or enjoy a climb in their branches. The peaks which rose up around the valley were tiny in comparison to the towering rocks of Sauromugue Champaign from which they came. Instead they served not as an obstacle, but a pleasant divider between the untamed beauty of the outskirts and the orderly fields below.

Therein lay the true marvel. Stretching out further than could be ridden in a day were the Rolanberry fields of Jeuno. The succulent berries, used for everything from jam to wine to magical ingredients, produced an aroma which perfumed the entirety of the area. Odessa could smell it on the wind as they grew close, wafting through the air to comfort and soothe. She closed her eyes, taking an appreciative breath of the scented breeze. Nothing quite compared to Rolanberry.

“This,” Middlesky said, some distance in front of her, “is a place of tremendous peace.” The Red Mage’s eyes were closed, hands outstretched and palms open at his side. His chin was raised, and his breathing deep. A smile was on his lips.

“Rolanberry Fields is one of the more hospitable territories of the Duchy,” Raidom stopped at Odessa’s side, his expression as hardened as ever. “The presence of the Quadav seems negligible in comparison to the numbers of Orcs which inhabit Batallia Downs, or the Yagudo in Sauromugue, for that matter. Furthermore, with the exception of Goobbue, which are largely easy to avoid, there are practically no dangerous monsters to be found here.”

“There are Morbols here,” Eig corrected. The Mithra looked to be in delight, making the remark almost absently as she eagerly tasted the air.

Raidom puffed out his chest slightly. “While some Morbol occasionally wander up here from the marshlands in the south, the idea that they routinely wander the area is the stuff of stories.”

“Stories are my business,” she smiled, and then wandered towards Middlesky.

“You seem to know a lot about the area, Lieuntenant,” Odessa complimented.

Raidom nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. “The Ducal Guards are required to be aware of all the Duchy’s holdings, insofar as territorial advantages, inherent dangers, and important travel routes. We learn this all in basic training.”

She cocked an eyebrow at the earnest soldier from Jeuno. “And the inspiring natural beauty?”

“Beauty is well and good, Lady Odessa,” Raidom said evenly, “but it does little to protect the Duchy.”

“I think it’s amazing,” a young voice said in a reverent tone, and Fated joined them a moment later. With eyes full of marvel, he stared out at the sea of green, a smile spreading across his face as memories of Rolanberry pie struck him. “I’ve never been here. I flew over it once, in the airship, but we didn’t get to actually walk through.”

“You’re a long way from the Musketeers now,” Odessa told him. She instantly regretted it. She had meant it to sound friendly, but the circumstances changed everything. Fortunately, Fated seemed not to notice.

“Crawler’s Nest,” Raidom said, loudly enough to get their attention, “is due west. A natural cave home to several varieties of the crawler species, as well as their nesting grounds. While some are aggressive if they feel threatened, they are, for the most part, harmless. Celeres,” he asked, turning around to the Monk who was just now cresting the hill behind them, “have the chocobos been secured?”

He nodded firmly. “Sure, I hitched ‘em up back there somewhere. They’ll be here when we get back.”

“You know,” Raidom remarked, “you’re an awfully loose sort of fellow for a Monk.”

Celeres smiled broadly in response, bringing up a hand and cracking his knuckles. “Hey soldier boy,” he clenched his fists together, “I follow my oaths like everybody else. But when it comes to a good throw down, well, I just can’t resist.”

“A good throw down,” Raidom repeated with obvious disapproval. “That’s hardly the attitude for a bodyguard of a superior officer.”

The Monk shrugged. “Maybe so, but hey, tell me that’s not the reason I’m here in the first place.”

Raidom turned to Odessa, who gave a long-suffering sigh as she twirled a lock of her silver hair between her fingers. “We met Celeres in a monastery on Elshimo,” she explained to the soldier. “He helped us quell an uprising from the Goblins that live in Ifrit’s Cauldron. The elders were . . . quite insistent that it was a sign he should travel with us and bend his destructive ways towards doing good.”

“Hey,” Celeres said defensively, “I always fixed whatever I broke there.”

“The monastery was short two prayer rooms.”

“Anyone could’ve knocked down those support beams.”

The Elvaan woman felt her eyelid twitch involuntarily. “Let’s . . . just hurry up and go.”

The chocobos were abandoned out of necessity. Time was an issue, of course, but without the towering cliffs and dilapidated fortress remnants of Sauromugue to mask them, they had to be even more cautious about being seen. That meant slowing down their pace, and definitely not riding six giant yellow birds across a bright green landscape. They would be able to recover them when they returned. For now, it was less than a day’s march to Crawler’s Nest, where the truth behind Antiqix’s plea could be determined. Odessa could determine her next move from there.

They stuck close to the hills, trying to stay as far away from Jeuno as possible at all times. Its towering walls were visible in the distance, as well as the crushing darkness covering its skies. Now and then the sight of a demon on the wing was visible, but would always quickly vanish back into the city. Raidom’s throat made an audible noise every time he caught a glimpse of his city being controlled by demons. As they walked on, Odessa tried as best she could to make sure they walked south at every chance. The further they were from the sight of Jeuno, the better. Not just for keeping themselves safe, but sane as well.

By and large, the trip was uneventful. As the gray, ugly skies gave way to a cloudy evening, Crawler’s Nest came within reach. Sure enough, a monstrous goobbue lurked in the trees nearby, but it paid them no heed as they approached. The small party approached the low-hanging cave entrance, Odessa pulling her cloak around her shoulders. Rolanberry Fields was temperate all through the year, but with winter coming the night would still have a chill. Nothing compared to the freezing temperatures of Sauromugue, though. Also, cooling temperatures meant beasts which fed on vegetation, like the crawlers, would be in a mostly dormant cycle. Ignoring the fact that they were even out here in the first place, things appeared to be going their way.

“Careful,” Raidom warned. “There are also some aggressive breeds of giant beetle within. The scorpions that feed on crawlers live here as well, and make little distinction in their meals.”

“The spirits here are ill at ease,” Middlesky said, stepping forward. His head was tilted into the wind, and a troubled look creased his brow. “The nest has been intruded.”

“Goblins?” Eig queried.

Middlesky nodded. “I would assume so.”

“The elders back at the temple were always talking about the spirits,” Celeres commented, “but I don’t remember any of ‘em saying the spirits talked to them.”

“Perhaps they were simply not listening,” the Red Mage theorized.

“Is listening to the spirits part of what the culture is like on Ulbuku?” Eig leaned forward, ears twitching with curiousity.

Middlesky only gave a fleeting smile. “I came across the great sea to learn more of your ways, Eig. When I return to my people, I shall invite you along, and you may hear all of our wisdom from the source.”

The Bard’s eyes danced at the prospect. “I’d be the first Bard to visit the Western Continent in decades,” she mused. “I could get onboard with that. When do you plan to return home?”

The Red Mage shrugged. “Many moons have passed since I left. I have not yet planned my homecoming. But I will return to my people.”

“Alright,” Odessa interrupted, “we’ll talk about all this when we’re not exposed in demon territory. Let’s get this over with. Fated, lead the way.”

The Paladin nodded, taking up his shield and heading down the tunnel before them. Raidom loosened the great sword on his back, carefully walking behind the young Bastokan, but in front of Celeres. Middlesky followed next, and then Odessa and Eig brought up the rear.

Crawler’s Nest was oddly luminous at night. Patches of exposed stone stood out here and there, but the lifeless gray was by and large the exception. Being born from Rolanberry Fields, the cave structure was similarly alive with vegetation. Flowers with iridescent bulbs dotted the walls, growing from thick vines of deepest green. Moss blanketed the area from ceiling to floor, wet with moisture and alive with insects. Most were of the normal variety, but here and there a buzzing sound told of giant wasps native to the nest. They flitted about, ignoring the group as they passed by. Lit by the glowing plants, it seemed as if a path was being laid out in front of them. Odessa brushed off the coincidence as they pressed onwards.

A moment later they came to an abrupt halt. Fated had stopped at a ledge, and was looking down into the sprawling cavern below. Raidom took a step forward to look in, and then he froze as well.

Odessa pushed her way through to them, annoyed at the hold up. “What is the issue here?” she demanded, brushing by Middlesky.

Below her, the sound of several dozen crossbows being pulled back at once echoed throughout the cavern.

“Found them,” Fated reported, as they stared down at the mass of Goblins assembled in Crawler’s Nest, ready to let a storm of bolts soar forward with the slightest provocation.

The three of them stood mutely at the ledge. Below them, hundreds of eyes peered up through a variety of masks. Some were leather, like the one worn by Antiqix, and covered the entirety of the Goblin’s face. Others were forged of steel specifically to fit over a Goblin head, and they stared up with swords drawn and large, untrusting eyes narrowed. The stunted beastmen passed murmers between them, a dull roar of echoing, unseemly comments building in the cavern. The weapons pointed up at them were extended, and from her vantage point Odessa could tell some trigger fingers looked unbearably itchy. One inch at a time, Fated began to raise his shield.

The White Mage had to think fast. If they were intent on attacking, they would have fired at first sight. Instead, they seemed to be quickly discussing what to do about the appearance of the interlopers in their midst. Goblins, however, were notoriously impatient and not known for asking questions. One of them might fire a crossbow at any second, which would start a fire she wouldn’t be able to put out. If she startled them, this could happen anyway. Suddenly, a name materialized in her head.

“Antiqix!” she shouted out. Three crossbow bolts fired off in near unison, streaking into the walls surrounding the narrow opening. Two passed by harmlessly, a third bounced off of Fated’s hastily risen shield. Three out of dozens. She had gotten their attention.

“Antiqix!” she repeated loudly. This time, no one fired. Fated lowered his shield cautiously, though Raidom still held his great sword defensively in both hands.

“Who’s callin’ for Antiqix?” someone called out below. Scores of angry Goblin voices joined in the demand for an answer.

“I’m an Elvaan,” she stated, knowing her name would be meaningless here, “asked to come here by a Goblin named Antiqix. He told me the Goblins of Jeuno had come here when the demons attacked.”

One Goblin, carrying an enormous sack with dozens of patches across it, pushed his way through the crowd. The chamber below was positively littered with Goblins, branching off into the many snaking tunnels of the nest. Goblins of all shapes and sizes, wearing all manner of piecemeal armor and clothing shuffled back and forth. There had to be a hundred of them at least, and no telling how many more down the unseen paths. The Goblin which emerged to speak gave an uncouth snort, shaking a white-gloved fist at the three on the ledge.

“You got no proof!” he said in an accusatory tone. “How do we know the demons ain’t sentcha?”

Piecing through his grammar, Odessa replied, “If the demons knew you were here, they’d just come and either demand your obedience or wipe you out. We’re six Children of Altana here to talk business.”

That sparked some noise. In the Goblin language, business meant money, and Children of Altana meant suckers.

“You come down here,” the Goblin told her, “I ain’t gonna shout at you the whole time.”

“You climb up here,” Odessa countered, not willing to lower herself into a pit of Goblins. It was clear from the reaction that her request was met with similar distrust.

“Pffah!” the Goblin spat. “We can’t very well meet halfway!”

“Alright,” Odessa conceded, “give me a moment.”

“What should we do, Lady Odessa?” Fated whispered hurriedly as she pulled them in for a conference. “We can’t let you go down there, they’ll kill you.”

“Not necessarily,” Raidom interjected. “Goblins are rabidly faithful to profit if nothing else. If they think there’s something in this for them, they’ll at least hear her out.”

“But if they don’t like what she has to say . . . “ Eig let the suggestion take root in their minds.

“Alright, hush up,” Odessa snapped, rubbing her temples. “Celeres,” she looked dead at the Monk, “how many of them could you handle?”

He shrugged. “Ten, maybe?” Odessa ground her teeth. Not nearly enough.

“They will do no harm.” Collectively, they looked at Middlesky. His voice had not a shred of doubt in it.

“How can you be sure?” Fated whispered urgently.

“From them I sense fear, confusion,” he spoke softly and confidently. “No malice or ill-intent towards us. They are frightened, though they do not show it. A bargain for safety will be easily struck.”

Fated looked at the Red Mage with a mixture of surprise and doubt. “I won’t let you go alone,” he told Odessa. “Let me be your shield, at least.”

Odessa considered her options. Goblins did worship money, but they also respected power. A show of it could be in order.

“Okay, this is how it works,” she shouted down, her tone brooking no nonsense. “I’m coming down there. I’m bringing with me a Paladin from the Bastokan Mythril Musketeers and a Dark Knight who is a ranking officer amongst the Jeunoan Ducal Guard. I’m leaving up here three others who will run at the first sign of trouble. One of them is a Monk whom you’ll never catch. If anything happens to us, they’ll return with plenty of friends to even the score.”

This time, the Goblins had a huddle of their own. Several of them gathered together, whispering in their scratchy, hoarse language. A minute later, the one Odessa had been speaking to turned, extending his arms.

“Acceptable,” he approved, “but if we don’t like what you have to say, we’ll throw you out for the demons to find. You can’t take revenge on us for what they do.”

The logic didn’t quite fit, but she had gotten them to agree not to kill them outright. Nodding to Fated and Raidom, she stepped forward.

The ledge was not terribly high, but she still had an awkward time climbing down. There was an eruption of snickering from the Goblins as she ungracefully searched for each new rock and crevice with her feet. By the time she finally reached the ground, anger was creeping in to an already exasperated mood. Fated appeared by her side a moment later, opting to fall most of the way and land in a crouch. He stood up cautiously, his shield raised and hand on his hilt. The youth was then joined by the older, stonier face of Lieutenant Raidom, who leveled a dangerous stare into the beastman delegation.

“Tell us how you knew we were here,” the Goblin demanded, “and what you have to offer.”

“We are part of a coalition residing in Castle Oztroja,” she said, noting the confusion registering in the Goblin’s eyes. “Tzee Xicu has surrendered authority over the Yagudo to Rykoshet, leader of Those Guys. The survivors of the attack on Jeuno were also recently rescued and taken there.”

“That’s a tall tale if I ever heard one,” the Goblin said dismissively. “The feather-faces chief feather-face just stepping aside? Yagudo and Altanans living together?”

“Can you deny that the world of Dynamis has invaded our own, and the Kindred are at this moment roaming free through Jeuno itself?” Raidom flinched slightly at her words, but they had the desired effect.

“I realize things are bad,” the Goblin countered, “but that story is ridiculous.”

“We came here because Antiqix came to ask the Yagudo for help in getting you out of this cave,” Odessa pressed, rolling over his objection. “You know Antiqix, it sounds like, so you know he regularly did business with the Yagudo and regularly took up residence in Oztroja.”

“So?” he seemed unimpressed by her knowledge, but Odessa knew she was being tested.

“So,” she answered, “his business was exclusively with the Yagudo. He never dealt with Bastokans, or Jeunoans, or even San d’Orians like me. He spoke with the Yagudo and the Goblins. Yet here we are, knowing his name and his business. Because he told us.”

“Even if he did, and I ain’t saying it’s true,” the Goblin’s eyes shifted back and forth between their three faces, “what’s in it for you to help us?”

This time Odessa lowered her eyes to meet his. What she said next had to be absolutely true or the entire thing would blow up in her face. Goblins were a lot of things, but they were not fond of being lied to, and they could smell something dirty in a business deal like a rotting slab of meat. It was the principle reason they seldom did business with one another.

“Because one of your kind came asking for help, and so we decided to take him at his word,” she stated. “Because if you wanted to be working for the Kindred, you would never have left Jeuno in the first place. Because as much as we despise Goblins, we hate demons even more. Because people shouldn’t be forced to huddle together for protection,” she pointedly cocked an eyebrow “or hide in caves for survival. I’ll put it as plain as this; you help us, we help you. Come back to Castle Oztroja and fight together with us. We can’t guarantee victory, but we will protect you like any other comrades until the end, whatever it may be.” She stood straight now, looking out at all the dozens of Goblin faces staring back suspiciously at her. No one was whispering anymore. They were listening to what she had to say. Finally, she looked down at the Goblin whom had emerged as their spokesperson.

“Otherwise, Vana’diel falls into the hands of a band of Greedaloxes.”

A laugh that sounded like a cross between an owl hooting and a belch burst from behind the Goblin’s mask. “Greedaloxes!” he said approvingly. “I’m surprised you ain’t forgotten, Odessa.”

“I have not, Bluffnix,” she affirmed, folding her arms in front of her. “It’s good to know you can listen to a deal that doesn’t involve ridiculous demands for you to do some sewing.”

Bluffnix scoffed. “I ask what’s my due for working with you Altanans,” he said with conviction. He then looked at his fellow beastmen, scratching behind one of his elongated ears. “You’ve been a loyal customer, but things have changed. We’re not in Jeuno anymore.”

“No one’s in Jeuno but demons, Bluffnix,” Odessa replied.

“Bluffnix,” Raidom suddenly spoke up, causing both of them to turn their heads, “you were always a valued addition to Jeuno, no matter what you may think. Both the former Duke and Lady Esha’ntarl have been quite insistant that we protect Goblins from the racial tensions in the city. Yes, we distrust you, because we know how you distrust us. But everyone, Bluffnix, everyone knows about Fickblix. We know there is another way.”

The Goblin looked taken aback. All of them started saying the name in hushed tones. Odessa didn’t know what they were talking about, but the name Fickblix apparently held some weight.

Bluffnix turned and called another meeting of the Goblins around him. While she couldn’t recall many names, Odessa realized the group assigned leadership was comprised entirely of the Goblins whom ran the junk shop in Lower Jeuno. After a long deliberation, Bluffnix stepped forward again. Slowly, he extended his hand.

Odessa stared at it for a long moment. Finally, she reached out her own slim fingers, and took Bluffnix’s hand in hers.

“Now, by Goblin law, we’re married,” he declared.

“What?!” she shrieked, tearing her hand away. The entire throng of Goblins burst into laughter. It echoed from every wall. The enormous crawler egg sacs suspended from the ceiling shook in their intricate webs. She turned to see Raidom struggling not to chuckle.

“You Altanans,” one of the lenses on Bluffnix’s mask slid away, and he wiped a fat tear of mirth from his eye. The laughter continued, some Goblins actually rolling on the ground. Odessa could feel her face turning red with anger. “You’ve got a deal, missy. But look, there’s a lot of us in here. This isn’t just the Jeunoan Goblins. We’ve got some of the nomads from Batallia, the mountain-Goblins of Sauromugue, the foragers from right here in Rolanberry . . . this place is crawling with us, and we ain’t all heard your pretty speech. It’s going to take time to get us all moving in the same direction.” His tone suddenly grew solemn. “Even when we do,” he said warningly, “not all of us are gonna follow, if you catch my meaning.”

She did. Antiqix had said himself, some of them would fight for the demons. She only hoped Goblins inability to be duplicitous with one another would keep those Goblins from mingling in with the rest. “We’ll take the risk,” she acknowledged.

“Then bargain struck,” he told her, and a murmer of agreement passed through the Goblin ranks. Activity began to pick up as orders started to be shouted over what to do next, and Odessa strained to hear Bluffnix over the sudden din. “We found a secret way outta here not too long ago, probably be safer for ya. I’ll have some of the boys take you there.”

“What will you do?” she inquired.

“We’ll start spreading the word and rounding up whoever wants to take a chance on the feather-face rock palace.” He beckoned two steel-masked Goblins to his side, giving them instructions to take Odessa and the others to the exit he had mentioned. “We’ll come in our own time, Odessa, but we’ll get there.”

“Fair enough,” she said, and gave a simple curtsy. “Bluffnix, as always, it’s a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Ha!” the Goblin laughed. “We’re just eager to getting back to fleecing the suckers. They’ll be more desperate than ever.”

“As you say,” she smirked, but she realized already that Wolfgang was right. These Goblins were citizens of Jeuno. It would appear that was exactly how they felt about the matter, too.


The walk back to the surface was uneventful, for the most part. The sight of five adventurers, a soldier, and two Goblin warriors kept the monsters away. It was quite awhile before they even got to a part of the Nest still occupied by monsters in any event. Bluffnix had not been kidding about the number of Goblins hiding there.

“I think we grossly underestimated things,” Raidom said as they neared the tunnel. A shaft of dim sunlight shot in from above, telling of a setting sun awaiting them. “The Goblins in Jeuno were a hundred at most. Adding in the hordes roving the countryside, however . . . Lady Odessa, there could be over a thousand Goblins in these caves.”

“At least we’ll have some time to prepare,” she said, though she was worried about their miscalculation as well. “It will take them plenty of time to organize themselves and then sneak across to Oztroja.”

Before the matter could continue, Middlesky, who had been at point, halted them. He gazed up the tunnel unwinding in front of the party with a hardened glare.

“What is it?” Eig asked, and the others looked around for an answer as well.

“Something is . . . out there,” he replied, somewhat softly. “the spirits do not know what. They feel very wary.”

“I’ll go take a look,” Fated offered, but Middlesky stopped him with a hand on the shoulder.

“No,” he said, his voice distant, “let me.”

“Are you sure?” the Paladin indicated his shield.

“Yes,” Middlesky told him, “yes, I think it would be best. I do not know what awaits us, but my magic will allow me to take a glimpse without bringing harm upon us.”

“Okay,” Odessa said, “but take the Goblins with you.”

“Cowards,” one of them growled, shaking his head. “We’ll keep you safe from the scary monsters.”

The other laughed dryly. “Come on then, let’s get it over with.”

Middlesky nodded his agreement, and began walking the path up towards open air. He vanished from sight a moment later, his escort at his side.

“Uh oh,” Fated said, his eyes suddenly alight.

“What?” Odessa demanded, rounding on the Hume.

“It’s just . . . “ he looked incredibly nervous all of the sudden. “This is very similar to what happened to Rykoshet. You know, before Battousai rescued him.”

“I’ve heard the story . . . “ Raidom said, a grimace now creasing his face. “The species he did battle with . . . . is not unknown in this part of the world.”

"We're not going to have to fight some giant bird, are we?" she asked with exasperation. She loosened the stave on her back, and the white jewel surmounting it began to glow in response to her touch. “Middlesky!” she shouted out. “Tell us what you see!”

A moment passed without response. Odessa's brow furrowed.

"Middlesky?" She called out. "What's up there?"

Her Elvaan ears twitched as she heard the sound of something whistle briefly through the air. A moment later, it stopped dead. She looked back and forth from face to face, but no one else gave any indication they had heard it. Now there was only silence.

"Middlesky?"

Anxiety took control of Odessa's legs, pushing them up the tunnel. As each second of silence became more pronounced, she began unconsciously running towards the light. She pressed a hand over her forehead, shielding her eyes from the sunlight which poured over her. Blinking the spots away, the White Mage breathed a heavy sigh of relief when a blot of darkness in front of her coalesced into the shape of Middlesky.

"What's wrong with you?" She chastised. "Why wouldn't you answer?" He did not turn around to face her as she yelled.

"I had just hoped . . . " the fragile whisper that escaped the Red Mage's lips made Odessa's eyes go wide. " . . .hoped you wouldn't be discovered."

He turned slowly. The blood had drained from his face, and his body was beginning to tremble. Two Goblins lie on either side of him, steel arrowheads protruding from their backs as their bodies grew cold. With a final gasp, the Red Mage's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he collapsed to the ground, an arrow lodged firmly in his chest. She cried out, taking hold of him. A trickle of blood oozed down his mouth.

"Another one," she heard a voice say nearby. "Kill her."

The laughter of demons swept over Odessa as Middlesky went still in her arms.

Chapter LVIII: Makeshift Rescue Party

Danienne had steadfastly refused to loan anyone under her command to Odessa's venture. Citing the need for increased security at the castle, she denied the White Mage her request for aid. Odessa knew it wouldn't be worth the time or effort to challenge her on it. Danienne hated the entire Goblin species, and nothing was to be gained by stirring up infighting. So Odessa had to pick the team herself.

Her utmost priority was maximizing the chances of survival. To that end, her first choice for the team was Eig. The Mithra's gift of the spellsong had proven invaluable for keeping them alive during the battle with Tzee Xicu. If they ran into trouble at Crawler's Nest, Odessa would be counting on it again. Though she knew there was relatively little to fear from the monsters of Crawler's Nest, a little brawn might be called for. As the only fighter on the team who had not been placed under Danienne's command, the slim and muscular Monk Celeres filled that role. That gave her four, counting herself and Middlesky. As day broke and what had the potential to be the last week of Antiqix's life began, she wondered if that would be enough.

It was actually a relief when she met Wolfgang at the grand hall the morning of her departure. "Lady Odessa," he greeted her, standing at attention with a smart salute.

"Captain," she replied, noting the presence of Wolfgang's first officer by his side. Wolfgang's face was characteristically stony, but there was a knowing gleam in his eyes.

"Lieutenant Raidom has recovered from his injuries in full," he informed her, taking a step aside. By his side was the Jeunoan officer whom had first appeared at the gates of Oztroja so many weeks ago. As opposed to the tattered and bloodstained uniform he had worn upon his arrival, he was now clearly girded for combat. The Hume had donned a set of thick darksteel armor. The Hauberk he wore had been refined with damascus, Odessa recognized, similar to the one Rykoshet wore. He also wore a stylized helmet, protecting the sides of his face and bearing a set of curved horns atop it. The black armor stood out in harsh contrast to the white and gold which was standard issue to other Jeunoans. On his back, Raidom had strapped a long, curved great sword, and Odessa had no doubt about his ability to use it.

"I understand Lady Danienne has cited her inability to spare any soldiers," Raidom said, giving her a salute of his own. "As I fall under the command of Lord Wolfgang, I have opted to volunteer for this mission myself."

"I see," Odessa nodded, suppressing a smirk. She would let the question of whether or not his was the kind of volunteering which is ordered go unanswered. "Then welcome to the party, Lieutenant."

Raidom nodded, stepping away from his commander. Behind Odessa, the others had begun to appear. Eig stretched languidly, yawning as she came down the stairs. Smacking her lips, the Bard adjusted the foppish had she affected as she nodded informally to those already gathered. From the other side of the hall, Celeres approached. The Monk was garbed in the customary garb of his temple, an affair of subtle gold and orange. The exception to this was the highboots he wore, crafted of leather in a process perfected in the desert dunes of Rabao. Odessa knew that despite their surpassing sturdiness, they were practically weightless. The Elvaan gave a nod and smirk, bandaged knuckles cracking as he flexed his fingers.

Middlesky was already there. In the bright red and white which was his staple, the Red Mage had arrived just before dawn. He had been quietly waiting when Odessa had arrived, as patient as the stones of Oztroja itself. With the briefest inclination of his head to the others, he quietly joined them.

"Is there anything else you'll be needing, Lady Odessa?" Wolfgang extended his hands in offering. Shaking her head, she took a look back at the team she had assembled. Their task was simple. Reach Crawler's Nest undetected, find the Goblins and offer them sanctuary in Oztroja, and then return, again without attracting the attention of any demons.

"Just tell me, Captain," Odessa began with a tilt of her head, "why is this so important to you? They're just Goblins."

The soldier gave her a look she could not quite fathom, and then raked a hand through his jet black hair. "A month prior I would have locked anyone who suggested working with the Yagudo in irons." Wolfgang clapped a fist to his breastplate, saluting both Odessa and his own Lieutenant. "Blessings of Altana be with you." With that, he strode off, his bearing once again that of a man far taller than the diminuitive Captain could claim to be.

"Time to go?" Celeres asked, a note of eagerness in his voice.

"You're too eager for this early in the morning," Eig complained, emphasizing her point with a yawn.

Odessa rubbed the bridge of her nose, already growing perturbed. What she really would have loved would be at least one Yagudo volunteer to accompany them. Even had Danienne not been in charge of those forces, she doubted any would come willingly.

"No time like the present," she conceded. They would just have to trust the Goblins would believe them without another Beastman in tow. After they trusted that the Goblins wouldn't attack them outright. Which was directly after trusting that the entire adventure wasn't part of a plot by the demons to lure them out. That was far too much trusting for Odessa. Typically she was content to just let Rykoshet blunder into disaster and pick up the pieces afterward.

"We've only got a few chocobos," she told the group, "but I don't want to use any teleportation spells to bring us closer. I could dump us in the middle of a demon swarm and we'd have no safe way home. So they'll have to do. Ride easy, if we overwork them, we won't have any replacements."

"If we can skirt by Jeuno without being noticed, we'll be able to go from Sauromugue Champaign to Rolanberry Fields." Middlesky offered. "Traveling by day will make it harder for them to spot us, as we've seen."

Odessa nodded. "Riding, it shouldn't take us more than three days to get there and three more back. Not that it motivates any of you, but there is a Goblin's life on the line." It didn't motivate her much either, when she said it aloud. "Anyway, let's be quick, but not stupid."

As the other early risers of Castle Oztroja began to go about their daily business, Odessa led her small company away, the sun at their backs.

The chocobos the Yagudo had procured were mostly strays. Many of them had been found wandering aimlessly following the attack on Jeuno, and were easily lured back in with gentle words and hands. Others seemed to have driven nearly feral as a result of trauma and time in the wild. As they rode away from the makeshift stables which had been built to house them, Odessa became convinced she had been saddled with one of the latter. The yellow beast constantly kicked at the ground and bucked with every step. When she tried to place a hand on its feathered neck, it tried to arch its beak around to snap at her. After hours of unsuccessfully trying to negotiate with the bird, Odessa simply began digging her heels into its side. This, of course, served to only make it more cross, and it tried with redoubled might to hurl her off. By the time they settled down for the evening, she was so saddle-sore she could barely sit down.

They were well into Sauromugue Champaign. Their scouting of the regular demon movements told them where it was safe to bed down for the night. Celeres dug a shallow pit in the ground, and used it to conceal their tiny fire. The night was growing cold, and Odessa realized that with the sun so constantly muted, the changing of the seasons was happening without her knowledge. It felt unnatural to be robbed of so consistent an experience as witnessing the days grow shorter. A world so lifeless and gray could sap the will to keep on trying. Odessa scoffed at the notion. She was from Myste, where it could be dark and gloomy year round and no one would think anything of it. This was temporary, she told herself. The sun would shine again.

“Lady Odessa,” she looked up at the hushed voice calling out to her. Middlesky was approaching, tipping up the brim of his feathered cap. “I was hoping we might speak.”

“We’re not in Oztroja anymore,” the White Mage replied wearily. “It’s okay to just call me Odessa. Or Dess, even.”

“As you say, ma’am,” she rolled her eyes as he continued, “but I wanted to talk to you about your chocobo.”

Odessa took a look over at the monster disguised as a bird. It was even now scratching incessantly on the ground, snorting at the other chocobos in warning. “If you’re suggesting we’re better off without it, the thought has crossed my mind.”

“Not at all. I was actually wondering if we might trade mounts.”

She flicked an eyebrow up at him. “That thing is a terror. I’m going to be sore all day tomorrow. And you want to ride him?”

The Red Mage looked over at her irritable chocobo with a calm and sympathetic eye. “He has seen much, that one. I can sense the pain it is in. I would like the chance to speak with it.”

“Speak with it.” She repeated flatly. Looking over at the chocobo Middlesky had taken for himself, an even-tempered female of average size which calmly dozed the night away, Odessa realized she didn’t care about his reasoning. “He’s all yours,” she told him magnanimously.

“Thank you, my lady,” he acknowledged.

“He’s an odd one, isn’t he?” Odessa turned to see Eig rolling out her bedroll nearby. Middlesky was walking towards the chocobos, speaking soothing words to the wild one as he did so.

“He isn’t from here,” Eig went on. “I’ve searched around for stories about his homeland, but they’re pretty scarce on Mindartia. Probably Quon, too.”

“He’s definitely something else,” she acknowledged, staring into their dimming campfire.

One of Eig’s fangs bit her lower lip, and the Bard began humming distantly. This went on incessantly until Odessa finally turned and looked over at the Mithra.

“Did you want to talk about something?” She asked irritably.

“I don’t see why we’re doing this, Dessa,” Eig blurted out. “Goblins are vicious and nasty. There’s not a good story about them anywhere. They’re greedy, manipulative, and foul. Why, why, why are we going through all this trouble for them? I don’t understand.”

Odessa gave a long sigh, gazing into the dying embers of their meager fire. “I didn’t understand why at first either, Eig. I thought maybe I just wanted to get everyone to stop fighting. Or that I was doing what Rykoshet would do. Or maybe I just felt sorry for the thing.” She pulled her blanket up around her, trying to stave off the evening chill. She dared not use magic, even as far away from Jeuno as they were. There was a strict moratorium on doing anything at night which might attract attention, no matter how slim the risk. “But what it really comes down to is that it’s the right thing to do, Eig. Someone in need came to us for help. And maybe a few months ago, it would have mattered that it was a Goblin, but I’m not even sure about that. Every living thing has to look out for each other, or it all falls apart. It’s pretty bad, Eig. I don’t think we should sit back willingly while it gets worse.”

Eig appeared contemplative. The Mithra had spent a good portion of her young life gathering together songs and ballads dedicated to stories of valor about battles against the Beastmen. As someone who had spent much of her time in those battles, Odessa was no less conflicted, but she believed what she told Eig.

Before any further conversation could begin, Celeres appeared. The Monk spread his bedroll down on the ground unceremoniously. With scarce more than a smile and sleepy yawn, he flopped down atop it, pulled the blankets over himself, and fell asleep. Eig and Odessa shared a look, and the Elvaan shook her head. Bidding the Bard a good night, she laid down and pulled up her blankets. They still had a lot of ground to cover. Raidom was keeping the first watch, and she could just make out his silhouette perched over a nearby rock, eyes vigilant.

Just before falling asleep, she turned to see Middlesky petting the wild chocobo, the creature happily nuzzling up against him as he did.

She was not sure how long she had been sleeping when a pair of rough hands shook her awake. Instinctively, she lashed out with one hand, and was rewarded with the sensation of her palm striking flesh.

“Ow!” A man’s voice came with no small amount of shock.

Almost instantly, Celeres was out of his bedroll, so quickly Odessa didn’t even see him stir. “I’ll protect you, Lady Odessa!” he was saying, even as he tackled the figure looming over her. She flung her blankets off, trying to adjust to the darkness and make out who was who. The sounds of struggle

The two forms went sprawling over one another, hushed words of protest coming from the stranger. Suddenly, another body appeared from the darkness, and the intruder gave a cry of surprise as he was seized from behind. Raidom wrenched his arm back and forced him to the ground as Odessa quickly ran over to them.

“What are you doing here?” Celeres demanded, and Odessa could see he had donned the brutal claw-like weapons he wore around his fists.

“Let me up!” the stranger demanded in a familiar voice.

Odessa took a cautious step forward, incredulity sinking in. “Let him go,” she gestured to Raidom, who obeyed the order like the military man he was. The stranger gave a brief cough, and then looked up at her with a weak smile.

“Sorry I woke you, Lady Odessa.”

“Fated?” she asked, even as the young Paladin rose to his feet.

“I heard what was happening,” he explained, “about the Goblin and Crawler’s Nest and everything. I couldn’t just stay in Oztroja while members of Those Guys went out and risked their lives.”

“But how did you get here?”

Fated pointed far behind them in response to her question. “There was another chocobo in the stables. I told Danienne I was going to put it through some paces. Then I just followed the trail we took to get to Garlaige last time.”

“Fated,” Odessa rubbed two fingers across the bridge of her nose, “you can’t be here. Danienne will flay you alive. And you were almost killed in Garlaige, if anything happens now – “

“I’ve made a choice, Lady Odessa,” the Paladin said firmly. “I’m going to defend my friends. I’m sorry, but I can’t obey an order to leave.”

The White Mage gave a long-suffering sigh. Behind them, someone gave a prolonged yawn.

“Mmm,” Eig murmered sleepily. “What’s everybody doing awake?”

Odessa could feel a vein throbbing in her forehead. At least, she supposed, this was going about as well as anything Rykoshet ever attempted.