Chapter LCVIII: On the Trail

Tyrian watched the Tarutaru as he shuffled blades of dead grass between his fingers, letting the browning blades fall to the ground. He took a moment to sniff lightly at two of them, looking at them quizzically before lowering his ear to the frost-covered dirt. As concentration lined his brow, he lifted his head, adjusting the small beret he wore, and pointed north again. Tyrian sighed as he bounded off into the darkness once more, leaving the others to follow behind.

"Are you sure this guy knows what he's doing?" He asked, even as he urged his chocobo onwards.

"There are a lot of Rangers in Windurst," Titania told him, "and a lot of them specialize in tracking, but Holy-Moly is the best of them all."

Tyrian glanced doubtfully at the Tarutaru skipping away from them. With reluctance, he pushed down his fears and opted to keep moving on. He considered himself a passing fair Ranger, but he admitted he had barely been able to find Meowolf's trail. Holy-Moly had not only found the Galka's path, but pursued it out of Sarutabaruta and into Tahrongi Canyon. Still, he was dubious. Some of the traces he picked up as signs of Meowolf's passing through were questionable at best.

"If you weren't vouching for him . . . " he began.

"Believe me," Titania said reassuringly, catching her chocobo up to his. "Captain Rizzle knew what he was doing when he loaned us Holy's services."

"Maybe," he grunted. "I just wish that pig-headed fool hadn't run off in the first place."

"Tyrian," Sinti chastised at his side. "We know he had his reasons."

He set his jaw. "Reasons," he scoffed. "That two-faced witch isn't a reason to head off in the middle of the night chasing an army of demons."

"We don't know that's why he - "

"What, you think he went after Secure?" Tyrian cut the Mithra off. "Yeah, Klades wants to think that, too, but be serious." He directed his gaze out towards the distance, watching Holy-Moly continue to examine rocks, lightly brushing his fingers over them while peering at their surfaces. "Meowolf has never cared about revenge. He wants to protect people. And he's got it in his head that the Eastern whore is a damsel in distress."

Sinti did not reply, save a sad change of expression. Tyrian immediately regretted his harsh words, but did not take them back. They all knew why Meowolf had left, otherwise they would not have all decided to go after him and bring him back.

Of course, not all those who wanted to help were able. With Windurst's military exhausted by the war, only a select few who wished to help were allowed to leave Windurst. Himself, naturally, as well as Sinti and Klades were not bound to Windurst and thus free to come and go as they pleased. However, one of the original five Titania had brought back to the Federation with her had refused to join them.

"Windurst needs me, Tyrian." Yasuchika had told them, a pained but stern expression on his face.

"We need you, dammit, Meowolf needs you." He remembered standing in the Tarutaru's office, practically pulling his thick, dark hair out in aggravation. "Someone can take over for you here - "

"No," he said firmly, "they can't." The Black Mage looked from face to face, grimacing. "I've made my decision. This is my home, guys. I've got to protect my home."

Tyrian opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off as Klades walked in front of him. Kneeling, the Onion Samurai looked at Yasuchika eye-to-eye, an indiscernible expression on his face.

"Will we see you again?" He asked simply.

Yasuchika nodded. "One day, when this is all over, we can be Those Guys again."

"I would like that," the Samurai replied, and extended his hand. The Black Mage put his tiny palm forward, and the two shook hands briefly. Klades stood and turned, leaving the room without another word.

Tyrian began to protest, but Sinti put a hand on his shoulder. "Tyrian," she said in the voice that told him not to argue, "he has to do this."

He let out a deflating sigh. "Alright," he conceded. "Alright." With a look both serious and sad, he met Yasuchika's stern gaze. "It won't be the same without you," the Ranger told him.

The two shook hands as the Tarutaru smiled. "No," he agreed, "but I've made arrangements that I be replaced, so you'll still have some magic on your side."

And that was how they came to welcome Leeto-Eleeto as a traveling partner.

Spurred on by the thought of him, Tyrian turned to regard the combat caster in their ranks. He was chatting away with Klades, who for his part appeared to be politely enduring the onslaught of conversation. The mage had been vouched for by Yasuchika, and that would have to be enough. So, forward they went on Meowolf's trail, three Rangers, two mages, and a Samurai. And Tyrian went right on questioning the entire outing.

It wasn't long before they caught up to Holy-Moly, who was once again pressing his ear to the ground. Halting his chocobo, Tyrian gently rubbed the giant bird's neck as he surveyed the area.

"Have you found anything, Holy?" Titania asked as her chocobo pawed restlessly at the ground.

Holy turned to face them, but just as he was about to open his mouth Tyrian slid from his mount, eyes fixed on the patch of grass the Tarutaru was standing next to. The sparse clump of half-frozen greenery was pressed close to the ground and covered in frost. He walked slowly towards it, tilting his head as his eyes crawled across every inch of the surrounding area.

"What is it, Tyrian?" Sinti asked, still atop her chocobo.

He did not reply, save for to motion for silence. The grass was not really different from any of the other innumerable growths dying underneath winter's heel. Tyrian was fixated more on the ground surrounding it.

Squinting, he scrutinized several square feet all around the few tiny blades of grass, even as Holy-Moly stood over him, hands on his hips, waiting for his conclusion.

"Meowolf was here," he said finally, standing to his full height. Holy nodded happily, smiling at the others.

"Are you sure?" Klades had caught up with the rest of them, and he eyed the area suspiciously. "You've never been able to pick up his trail before."

"He's been following Secure's army, it's impossible - " he stopped when Holy-Moly coughed, lifting his eyes meaningfully. " - it's . . . very difficult," he amended, "to try and pick out one trail amongst so many, but this is different." Kneeling down to face the dead plant, he beckoned them to come close. "The ground here wasn't trampled. This grass is only being weighed down by frost. Secure's army didn't pass this way."

Klades looked up, casting a glance around the area. "There's enough room that they might have swung north here, towards Meriphataud, without coming this way."

"Yes," Tyrian affirmed, "but someone came this way. There's a blade broken off where someone brushed against it, maybe only a few days ago."

"Should I melt some of the ice?" Leeto was running towards them, flames already springing from his palms.

"No!" Tyrian shouted, stopping the wizard in his tracks. "Meowolf's footprints are in the frost. We can - " he stopped, his eyes widening. "Wait."

Klades dismounted his chocobo, placing a hand on his great katana. "What's wrong?"

The Ranger dropped down to his knees, fingers pressing against the frost hastily as he perused the ground. It took him only moments to confirm his suspicions, and he cast a grave stare at the other.

"There are other tracks here."

"What?" Klades looked at Holy-Moly, who nodded grimly at Tyrian's words.

"We're not the only ones following Meowolf."


Huddled close to the small firepit he had dug, Meowolf stared into the flames as he sought to stave off the cold. The onset of winter in Tahrongi Canyon had left the barren landscape concealed beneath a layer of frost. All around the armor-clad Galka, the world was becoming frozen, encased in relentless tomb of ice. With no sun in the sky to illuminate the landscape, no moon to cast reflections upon the freezing ground, everything was simply cold and dead. Shivering, his breath freezing in front of him, he pulled the slim mantle around his shoulders closer.

Just miles from him, the remnants of Secure's army marched inexorably north. In the time he had followed them, he had yet to discern any reason for their distant trek across this harsh tundra. Yet still they moved, further every day, heading away from Windurst and towards Meriphataud Mountains. He had caught up with them in a matter of days, but no opportunity had presented itself to try and infiltrate their ranks. Even following them had proved dangerous, and he was forced to alter his path after a few days to avoid running into demons straggling behind.

Once, briefly, he had seen Cullen. Hidden atop a cliff peak he had been able to see the entire camp. In the middle of it was a single tent, where Secure spent his days. The Elvaan never left, as far as Meowolf could tell. When they began marching, a group of Vanguard lifted the entire thing up on poles and carried it. Only during one of their stops did he see Cullen emerge, shouting some of Secure's demands, and then disappear again into the tent. He could only barely see her, not enough to make out her face, but enough to see the chains wrapped around her wrists.

He felt a flush of heat at the thought. He had to find her again. She needed to be protected.

He may well have fallen asleep near the fire, formulating ways to sneak in and save her, had he not heard footsteps approaching.

Immediately he was on his feet, snatching his sword from its scabbard as he looked across the frozen landscape. His eyes struggled to pierce the darkness covering the canyon, but he could just barely make out two shapes close by, wandering near his camp.

He watched them carefully. They didn't appear to be walking towards him, and indeed after a moment they stopped altogether, turning and talking to one another.

Their voices carried on the wind, and Meowolf recognized a Bastokan accent when he heard it.

"Hey," he shouted, and the two turned in surprise. "Hey!"

"Who's there?" One of them asked cautiously. "Show yourself!"

"Over here," he waved his arms, but did not put away his sword. "Who are you?"

The two figures whispered something to one another, looking back and forth at Meowolf. "Is that a fire you have going over there?" One of them asked.

"Yes," he called back. "Come into the light where I can see you."

They remained where they were. "How do we know you're not a demon?"

"Do I look like a demon?" The Paladin called back angrily.

The duo talked amongst themselves again. Meowolf's eyes were adjusting to their shadowed forms, and he could tell now that both speakers were Galka, like him.

"We're cold," he heard one of them say, and realized the wind was carrying their conversation his way. "He doesn't look like a demon, let's just go down there."

"He could be disguising himself," the other protested. "I don't want to risk it."

"He has a fire," the other one said plaintively. "It's freezing out here."

"But - "

"Hey," Meowolf called out again. "I'll come to you, and we can walk back together. I'll lead you here."

A moment of silence followed, broken up only by some urgent whispering he couldn't quite make out. Finally, one of them called back his way.

"Alright," he said, "You come to us."

Sheathing his sword, Meowolf came forward. As he got closer to them, he started to make them out a bit better. One of the Galka was dressed in heavy black armor inlaid with brass, in a style very similar to that which Klades wore. He had a sword, a great katana, fastened around his waist. The one next to him was covered in layers of heavy blue robes, and he could see a gnarled staff on his back. Both were large and foreboding, eyeing Meowolf warily as he climbed the icy hill towards them.

He had made it almost half way when he heard a sound like a twig breaking, and then the ground pulled away from him.

It took him a moment to realize what had happened. Wind rushed past him as he was lifted into the air, and thick hemp ropes pressed into his face. An angered cry escaped him as he struggled, but the net around him only tightened with each twist. He could see the other two Galka coming forward now, looking up at him from several feet below. Both were smiling, watching his plight without concern. Growling, he reached for his sword, but his arms were trapped in the ropes. Every time he moved it felt like it just made they only cut deeper into him.

"Bang up job, mates," a voice called from the darkness. Meowolf ceased his struggling, clutching angrily at the net as he looked around for the speaker. From the flickering flames of his still-burning fire, a grinning man stepped out from the shadows. One of his eyes was a brilliant shade of blue, so vibrant it was visible even by the scant firelight. The other was a blind white, a long and jagged scar running from forehead to chin crossing over it. The sides of his scalp were shaved, and the hair atop his head was drawn back into a tight ponytail behind him. His hands were clasped behind his back as he slowly walked a circle around the net, nodding to the other two Galka as he did. "I can't believe ye offered to come to them." He laughed. "Never saw that coming! Ha!"

"What is this?" Meowolf demanded. "Let me down!"

"Quit yer bellyachin," the scarred man said dismissively, turning around. "Dark Templar, Dark Goliath," he said, acknowledging the other two, "you done good. Let's truss this sucker up an' head back."

"You got it, boss," the one with the sword marched forward, and with one swift cut he severed the rope holding up the net. Meowolf came crashing to the ground, the wind rushing out of him. Spots flashed before his eyes as a heavy foot suddenly pressed down on the small of his back. He grunted as ropes pressed the chain mail links of his armor into his wrists. His struggles were rendered futile as an oppressive weight forced him down, and he saw the Galka wearing robes chanting a binding spell at him.

"Done up like a Starlight Eve dinner, you are," the scar-faced man laughed. "Alright mates, pick 'im up, let's get 'im movin'."

"Where to, Magitek?" the armored Galka asked.

Meowolf felt himself being pulled up, and with a sudden jerk he was eye-to-eye with his abductor. The one-eyed man was kneeling down, a toothy grin on his face. Violently the Paladin lurched forward, straining agains the ropes holding him back and the magic holding him down. Magitek did not even move, instead smiling broader at his struggles.

"Fiesty one, aintcha? S'alright, fight all ye want. 'Ey, Goliath," he turned to the robed Galka, "yer magic whammy's got 'im down nice 'n secure like, don't it?"

He nodded, folding his arms into his robes. "He's not going anywhere, boss, not unless we want him to."

Magitek turned back, still smiling. "Ye see there? Ye should save yer strength, boyo. Ain't gonna be easy gettin' where we're goin'." Standing, he smoothed out the front of the heavy furs he wore. "Well, enough jaw stretchin'. Let's get a move on. Client ain't gonna wait forever."

"But boss - " the one with the sword started.

"Ah, right, where are me manners? Sorry, Templar, plum forgot." He patted the Galka on the shoulder. "Into the mountains, that's where 'e's waitin'. Better hurry before th' weather gets even worse."

"Who," Meowolf growled, trying to force his legs up. "Who hired you?"

The three exchanged a series of glances before Magitek finally shrugged, an indifferent expression on his face. "Guess there ain't no harm in tellin' ye. Don't know who ye are or what ye did t' make people wanna kill ye even after th' end o' th' world, but - " he smiled again. "I don't get paid for askin' questions. I'm here t' take ye to a fella named Dracu, an brother, I wouldn't wanna be in yer shoes once we get there."

Chapter LXI: Searching for a Sign of Life

"Fresh," Xaerus observed, scraping a fingernail against the bloodstain. "A day old at most."

Jinxie shielded her eyes against the glare of the Mea Crystal. Leaning down to observe the spot of red on the cerment surface of the Crag, she could clearly makeout the trail Xaerus had led them towards. Spots of dried blood, already faded from red to rust, dotted the pedastal which the crystal floated upon. A small pool had formed near the floating spire itself, continuing on down the ivory steps before disappearing in the red-hued dust of Tahrongi Canyon. Jinxie carefully followed the trail with her eyes as far as she could, but it vanished into the wind.

Xaerus stepped down beside her. The Mithra seemed unsteady, having to carefully test each descent before moving down the stairs. Once on the ground, she turned her blindfolded eyes to the horizon, staring as she often did at things Jinxie could not see.

"I can see nothing," she admitted regretfully. "White magic was used here some hours ago. Beyond that, I have no idea."

Her flaxen hair whipping in the breeze, Jinxie stooped down to examine the blood again. "This doesn't look like demon blood," she observed. It was thin and definitely had been red. Demon blood was thick as tar, and dark enough to be almost black. "Some monsters can heal themselves," she speculated, "could it have been from one of them?"

Xaerus leaned down and scratched at the dried blood again. The black and red gloves Jinxie wore creaked as she tightened her fists, anxiously awaiting the other woman's word. If she expected it to be monster blood, she would not be disappointed.

"This is not monster blood, Jinxie," Xaerus said eyes intent on the red sliver on her nail, "this is . . . . Elvaan blood."

"Thousands of years ago!" The shout startled Jinxie so much she almost fell over, a cloud of smoke unexpectantly passing over her. "Before the dawn of man as we know him - "

The cry was interrupted by a violent fit of coughing. Brushing the fog away with a furiously waved hand, Isset stomped over to Speed. She swatted the smoking roll of paper from his mouth, her automaton Shoki stomping on it as it hit the ground. Speed turned his head towards her with the same confused expression her normally wore.

"Whoa, Isset," he mumbled, "what's up? That's not cool, dude, there was like, half a joint left there."

"Where do you keep getting these from?" she demanded. "I know I took your stash away before we got to Nashmau."

He looked at her with some uncertainty, narrowing his already squinting eyes. "I was on a ship," he said, "there were these pirate dudes, they totally had some quality reefer." He looked at his surroundings, taking in the mountains, plateaus, and arid desert scenery. A moment passed, and then he asked, "Are we still on the ship?"

Isset and Shoki simultaneously let their shoulders droop. The puppet struck a thoughtful pose as Isset planted her hands on her hips. "What was that nonsense you shouted just now? "Thousands of years ago," or whatever?"

The Urghan Warrior blinked at her. "I dunno, Issy. Something just came over me." He looked down at his smashed roll, pursing his lips slightly. "Those pirates had some awesome weed."

Jinxie turned away from the pair, focusing again on Xaerus. "If this blood came from an Elvaan, less than a day ago, then they may be nearby. And in need of help. Is there any way we can find them?"

Xaerus's expression became disapproving. "No," she said simply.

Jinxie recognized the rebuke. However, she pressed on regardless. "We'll find Kkel," she reassured, "but there are people - real people - nearby that may be hurt."

"There is not a lot of blood," the Mithra countered, "and whomever was wounded seemed capable of healing themselves."

"Xaerus, please!" she almost screamed. The Mithra's face turned to understanding, but she remained infuriatingly silent.

Their time was nearly up as it was, Jinxie knew. Three days prior, Arvin had deposited them at the port in Mhaura. While initially their plan had been to take a longboat to shore, as they neared the coastline the crow's nest reported not a demon in sight. Trepidatiously, they had approached the harbor. The place where Jinxie had been torn away from her husband was silent as the grave. Not even the bodies of the fallen remained. The buildings were damaged, some of them to the point of collapse, but there was not a sign of life to be had.

There was no mark at all of the man whom had sacrificed himself to save her. Considering his fate moved her nearly to tears she didn't think she had left.

After inspecting Mhaura from top to bottom, the pirates concluded there was indeed nothing left there living, and hardly any plunder worth taking. Arvin had seemed particularly disappointed about that, but still as perplexed as any of them. Except for the houses and buildings themselves, there was no sign anyone had lived in the fishing village.

"It be wholly unnatural, an' I'll not be keepin' me crew here t' suffer at th' hands o' whate'er foul spirit took the people a' Mhaura." The brusque Corsair took another swig from the flask at his hip, a drop of brandy spilling on to his thick coat. The crew of the Proteus was petrified of evil spirits and ghosts, as most sailors were. Arvin put on a brave face, but Jinxie knew the captain was having his doubts as well. "We'll be pullin' up anchor outta this place at first light. 'Tis bad enough we're stayin' th' night."

"Stay here, Captain," Jinxie warned. "We had an agreement. I am leaving immediately and expect you to be here upon my return."

Arvin scoffed at her. "Yer gold is good, woman, but it ain't worth my life. There be foul magic afoot, an I won't be havin' it."

"There is foul magic right in front of you, Corsair!" Jinxie shouted, and her fists burst into flame as she held them before her. She extended a burning hand towards Arvin, a dangerous glint in her seafoam eyes. "You'll have to confront one or the other, Arvin, so which will it be?"

For his part, Arvin remained in his chair. However, the flask came to his lips immediately, and as he drank beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. The thousand unknown possibilities of what might be lurking in Mhaura were weighed against the thoughts of what Jinxie might do to him if he left.

"I'll put down anchor f'r three days 'n three nights, woman," he finally conceded, "but if you ain't back on board when th' moon rises on th' third night, I ain't even skirtin' the coast. Me men an' I 'll be back on th' open waters, an keepin' yer gold as hazard pay."

So it had been that Jinxie, Xaerus, Isset, and Speed set off into the Buburimu Peninsula. The Puppetmaster expressed nothing but relief in being off of Arvin's ship and away from the crew. Speed continued to look back longingly, and occasionally gave deep, regretful sighs. Xaerus, on the other hand, was indifferent to their change of location. She only stared into the darkened skies of Buburimu, her face expressionless.

"It grows stronger," she warned, not speaking to anyone in particular. The tone of foreboding in her voice filled Jinxie with dread.

Despite the Mithra's assertion, however, Buburimu Peninsula was hardly the harrowing encounter Jinxie had expected. The windswept beaches were almost empty. Off in the distance, she would occasionally see monsters roaming across the sands, but they never ventured near or gave sign that they noticed Jinxie's presence. Once, Xaerus stopped them, and the four held still as a stone effigy in the form of a Goblin moved by under its own power. Watching the animated structure scrape the sand as it moved past them was unnerving. Its red-glowing eyes never moved from the space directly in front of it, and eventually it disappeared over the dunes. Only then did Xaerus give them the signal to move forward.

All night and into the day they travelled. As they moved gradually northwest, the Crag of Mea came into view. Jinxie could feel the immense power of the Mea crystal pulsating through the air even from miles away. The alabaster structure dominated the horizon with its presence. Every time her eyes searched their surroundings, they inevitably fell upon its soaring spire. She felt drawn to it, and occasionally kept walking foward even after the others had stopped to rest.

"You can feel it, too, can't you?" she asked Xaerus, focused still on the Crag. The Red Mage nodded her assent.

"The crystal cries out," Xaerus replied. "It was also in this area that Kkel Solaar was last known to be. Perhaps it is a coincidence." The blind woman looked ahead, staring in the same direction Jinxie was. "Perhaps."

As they entered Tahrongi Canyon, the Crag now in plain sight, Xaerus turned sharply southward, and clutched at her staff until her knuckles went white.

"What is it?" Isset asked, and Shoki spun rapidly, searching for disturbance in every direction.

Xaerus stared hard towards the south, and the plains of Sarutabaruta which rested there. Her brow creased, uncertainty in the Mithra's expression. She opened her mouth to speak, but eventually turned around, back towards the Crag of Mea.

"Nothing," she said, "nothing which concerns us."

So their journey brought them to the Crag of Mea, where upon the crystal they had discovered the blood of an Elvaan.

"A concession," Xaerus said softly as Jinxie demanded they find the person to whom the blood belonged. "We will linger here for one hour and search the Crag for a clue pertaining to our journey. One hour, and if we have not found something in that time, we will shift our focus to our bleeder."

Jinxie stared up at the massive proportions of the Crag of Mea. Even with four of them, an hour would be just barely enough time to walk all the way around it. She saw nothing to gain from that course of action. Before she could speak, however, Xaerus pressed on.

"If they appeared here, as it would seem they did, the Elvaan was likely using white magic to teleport." The theory made sense, Jinxie had thought the same herself. "It is possible they saw this as a place of safety from wherever their wounds were incurred. They may return here, should we but wait."

The blonde woman looked at the Mithra suspiciously, but could ultimately not find a reasonable objection. "Very well," Jinxie allowed, "one hour. Then we go."

Xaerus nodded. "I suggest we get started."

The Crag of Mea was as big as a castle. Some unfathomable structure of the ancients, all most people knew was that it was somehow connected to the Mothercrystals. Some San d'Orian scholars had posited the existance of a crystal line, a connection between the known crystals. It was widely accepted that there was a bond uniting the Crags, though what that meant, no one could really say.

Dirt crunching beneath her boots, Jinxie began scouring the area. No one knew exactly what they were supposed to be looking for, but Xaerus remained resolute in getting the full hour she had demanded. The sun crawled higher in the sky, almost unnoticeable behind the haze of darkness. It pained Jinxie to see the beautiful blue skies she had left behind now nearly black at noon. It made her almost miss the skies over the Empire, which were unaffected by the turmoil across the sea. As it grew darker, she wondered how much longer that would be. Already the pall of Dynamis was stretching out across the Gugru Blue. She had no doubt that it would reach the shores of Aradjiah sooner rather than later.

She wondered how Aht Urghan would survive if suddenly a host of demons were added to its plagues. Between the constant attacks by the beastmen, the internal power struggles, and the weakening military, she knew what the outcome would be. Resolutely, she pledged that what the demons had wrought on Mindartia would never again be played out elsewhere in Vana'diel.

So enveloped had she become in her thoughts that Isset had to practically shove her to get her attention. Startled, she turned to the raven-haired Puppetmaster. A look of worry was plainly etchd on the other woman's face.

"Everything alright, Jinxie?"

"Fine," she said distantly, "just thinking." She cast a look towards the sky, trying to find the sun behind the darkness. "Is our hour up yet?"

Shoki gave a mechanical whirr, followed by a ringing sound. Isset gave the puppet a smart rap upon the top of its head, stifling the outburst. "It is now," she responded.

"Good," Jinxie smoothed the front of her tabard, casting an eye about for Xaerus. "Let's get out of here. There's nothing to be found."

Xaerus, however, was atop one of the three pedastals anchoring the Crag to the rock. Speed was at her side, crouched down and examining something Jinxie could not see.

"It's time to go," Jinxie called from the ground.

"Hold," the Mithra shouted back, putting a hand in the air. "Jinxie, come look at this for me."

The Red Mage took a cautious step upward. "Why do you need me?"

She did not turn around. "I am unable to find my way here," she admitted. "I am truly blind around the crystal. All I know is that there is something here. Tell me what you see."

"Speed can - " she stopped herself mid-sentence. "I'll be right up."

The pedastal was littered with the remnants of a shattered crystal. Jinxie stared at the shards. The telecrystals of the Crags had existed as long as she could remember. They had just seen one intact on the other end of the immense structure. Yet here, splintered apart like so much glass, lay the remnants of one of the Mea crystals.

"The crystal has shattered . . . " she muttered just below her breath. Xaerus's ears twitched at the news, the hackles on the back of her neck rising.

"What could do this?" Isset puzzled, staring at the glittering pieces. "Aren't these supposed to be part of the Mothercrystals?"

"In theory," Xaerus muttered, running her hands in a ring around where the shards lay. She paused for a moment, and the Mithra's ears stiffened. "Do you hear . . . music?"

Jinxie leaned her head down low. Though it sounded as distant as the stars, she did indeed hear a haunting melody drifting through the shards. She strained to make it out, but it was only a faint hum, barely discernible from the natural vibrations of the crystal itself.

"Something has happened here," Xaerus breathed with a tone of warning, "I just can't see . . . "

"These are way pretty," Speed said in admiration, and picked up one of the shards in his hands.

"Don't!" Xaerus started to warn, but it was too late.

Jinxie opened her mouth, but no sound came out as a wave of white light swept over them. An instant later, the pedastal was empty. A wisp of twinkling light marked the passing of the four whom had been upon it, and within moments, that had gone as well.

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.”