He trusted in pathetic, weak Earthians. It was his stupid mistake to believe in any of you.

“What are they?” AsaHi’s question came out as a breathy whisper.

Her green eyes fixed on the dancing lights that floated throughout the small bedchamber where Zemi was resting. Now and then, they alighted upon the hand-painted murals that scrawled across the rough golden stone walls. Sometimes they sparkled as they fell upon the reed-wood chairs that sat in the far corner of the room. When they passed through the sunlight that streamed through the rounded windows, they reminded her of tiny glowing snowflakes — the kind that one would see in the depth of Nefolian winter.

A winter I’ll probably never see again.

“I’m not sure,” SoYa answered, brows furrowed to match the uncertainty of his statement. Carefully, he reached one hand out, capturing a glowing speck within his palm to inspect it. “It feels warm… almost like it’s alive. Like it’s coming from…”

AsaHi looked down with realization, “Zemi!”

On a whim, the girl reached down and pulled back the covers that had been obscuring the resting form of the Dreigiau. Instantly, a cloud of tiny sparkles burst into the air, scattering thickly throughout the room. The Arweinydd, however, was pale and translucent — as if fighting to hold on to physical form.

Oh no!

“SoYa! Look at him!” she recoiled with a shaken face. “What’s happening?”

His voice was low with concern, “When Ceiswyr fell… something awful must have happened to him.”

“I think so, too.”

The two stood at the Patron’s bedside, green eyes filled with worry and strain. Zemi Dreigiau had been the one immovable force in their lives. The one, great protective power that could not be destroyed. They had been raised to believe nothing could overcome the Arweinydd that founded all the things that had once made up their world.

Nefol.

Ceiswyr.

After the fall of the Island nations, all they could do was escape to the Dragon’s Cleft. There, the people of the Dreigiau had passed out of their homelands in a wild flight, into the vast waiting unknown of the world beyond. It was only the Cleft that protected them now, keeping the shadows far on the other side.

He fought so hard… he’s lost so much just to protect us.

They had carried their weakened Patron into the Spiral lands – the lands of their former enemies. And there they had been greeted by allies who were torn apart by more terrible woes. The news that KoGuRai had been defeated… but TsuYa had risen to take his place as Zerom’s new Marked Champion. With this final blow, any strength that Zemi had possessed during the long exodus to the Spiral seemed to slip away, replaced with a heavy sorrow. And now, he lay motionless, his form weak and flaking away into rising shimmers carried off upon the warm Spiral winds.

-Stupid Earthians.- A deep growl filled their minds.

The hair on the back of AsaHi’s neck rose on end, her wings twitching with the unease. When she turned, she saw the head of the great white wolf, Zazo, at one of the open windows. As the She-Wolf watched them, there was something more harsh and cold in the light of her eyes. Bitter and unforgiving — as if she was blaming them for their good fortune… a fortune that TsuYa could not share.

“Lady Zazo,” SoYa’s voice wavered in respectful uncertainty. He attempted a bow, only to get caught up in his own jitters and nearly find himself sprawled out before the Arweinydd instead.

Undaunted, AsaHi caught his shoulder. Her lips pursed as she faced the gleaming white fangs and canine eyes. She began by stating the obvious, “Lady Zazo… something is wrong with Zemi.”

-What makes you say that?- the She-Wolf snapped at a nearby speck of light, sending it scampering across to the other side of the room.

“You can see for yourself,” the girl replied, a bit perturbed at Zazo’s indifferent reply.

-Yes. I see. He’s falling apart. And whose fault is that?-

“What?” AsaHi’s head jerked up, wings ruffled. Her fists balled at either side, bracing for the confrontation that appeared to be brewing. “What are you trying to say?”

-Zemi trusted you. You were supposedly his heaven-sent guide and protector. The one who would protect him against Chaos… or some drivel,- the She-Wolf snarled, jabbing her nose into AsaHi’s chest and giving the girl a backwards shove.

AsaHi caught herself on the side of the bed, a deep scowl spread over her face. Pushing herself back on her feet, she rearranged the stray locks of hair that fell out of place. Her gaze lifted, meeting the Arweinydd’s glare. Not backing down. “I did everything I could.”

-He trusted in pathetic, weak Earthians. It was his stupid mistake to believe in any of you. And now he’s paying the price for your failure.-

“Right now he’s sick and he needs our help!” AsaHi lifted her voice in retort. “If we don’t do something, he could die!”

-Stupid!- Zazo half barked. -Arweinydd do not die. They simply return to what they were before. Which is probably the best thing for Zemi to do right now. It’s the best thing for us all to do right now. Earthians are worthless creatures!-

“How could you say that!” the girl snapped back. “After all that time you spent with TsuYa. You had to have cared about him or why else would you have–”

-DO NOT MENTION THAT NAME IN MY PRESCENCE!- came the near-roar.

“Wait! Wait!” SoYa stepped forward with wide eyes, staring back and forth between the two. His palms were up, a look of mediation on his face. “This was no one’s fault! No one could have foreseen what was going to happen. But we have to pull together and do the best we can to help Zemi… and maybe even save TsuYa. It looks dark right now… but can’t give up hope for either of them!”

-There is no hope left in this world anymore.- Zazo’s tone was dark as she turned her head.

Before SoYa could reply, the She-Wolf was gone. Nothing but a sad scattering of shimmering light around the windowsill showed that she had been there at all.

For a long moment, the two of them stood in a stunned silence. Then before AsaHi realized what she was doing, her hands had wrapped around SoYa’s upper arm. Seeking his support and assurance.

SoYa’s voice was quiet when he finally spoke, “She feels like…”

AsaHi peered up, waiting for him to find the words to finish his thoughts.

“She feels like the embodiment of all the disappointment… bitterness… and hurt…”

The girl laid her cheek against his shoulder. There was very little that she could say, “I know.”

“Zazo must have really cared about Tsu,” SoYa swallowed. It was hard for him to talk about his brother now. To hear or say the name. But somehow, he managed to do it.

“I think she does. A lot of us still do,” AsaHi told him. “I think it’s just harder for the Arweinydd to accept that things haven’t gone well.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, one arm slowly moving to wrap around her shoulders. He had been having trouble with the wings at first… but he was learning how to adapt. “They’re not use to this. To fighting and losing. To struggling. They’ve never had to face defeat before. It’s easy for them to lose hope.”

“And you haven’t?” she asked.

“It’s not over yet,” SoYa answered. He reached out with one hand, capturing a drifting sparkle. It seemed somehow comforted, remaining cupped in his palm. “It’s not over for us… for Zemi… It’s not over for Tsu. We’re still alive. As long as I’m alive, I’m going to fight.”

“That sounds very….” AsaHi stopped herself before she said it.

“Tsu-ish?” he finished instead, squinting out the sunlit window. “If it were the other way around, he wouldn’t stop fighting until he brought me back.”

“I know,” she stroked her fingers through his curly hair. It was getting long now.

Just like Zento… and Tsu… More and more like them.

If he heard her thoughts, he didn’t show it. Instead, SoYa turned to look at her with a steady gaze, “We’re going to figure out how to help Zemi. He fought for us… it’s our turn to fight for him.”

A soft smile curved her lips. She didn’t know if it was the mind mage powers. Or just the sight of his confidence. But somehow, she felt like things weren’t so impossible. Not with SoYa there at her side.

“So where do we start?” she gave his pony tail a teasing tug.

SoYa opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I’m still working on that.”

AsaHi laughed softly.

On the other hand… same old SoYa.

He sat with her quietly for a moment, a time she presumed he was lost in thought. When he lifted his head, he spoke again, slowly, “We need to talk to someone who knows something about Arwienydd.”

“In what way?” she asked with a furrowed brow.

“Well, we don’t even know what it means that Zemi is sparkling away like this. Besides that it appears that he is not well,” SoYa looked at her. “You don’t go and heal someone before you know what’s making them sick, right? Why would we try to do that with Zemi?”

“No, I suppose not…”

“Is Zemi really all that different from us?” SoYa’s words hung in the air for a moment, as if they were the most important words he had ever spoken.

It was unthinkable. Unfathomable. So completely beyond comprehension.

How could it be possible that an Arweinydd — a creature of the starry heavens, a being of light and power, with abilities and knowledge so far beyond them all — be anything like they were? Creatures of the earth, bound to life and death. Bound to the world that they lived on. Struggling with comprehension and survival.

But as AsaHi peered over at the shimmering form of the Dreigiau… and saw the quiet, now familiar face lined with unusual pain… she realized that SoYa was right. That the Patron was now suffering, too. Was learning things unknown to his own kind. And in the midst of the hurt and emotion…

Zemi is becoming more like us.

The girl’s hands wrapped more tightly around SoYa’s arm. She wasn’t sure why the thought made her uneasy. AsaHi was always the one to challenge the status quo. She was never content to take things for face value… she wanted to find the truth behind everything, even as frightening and painful as the truth might be.

So why is this one truth so hard to accept?

“It’s going to be harder for him to accept, I promise,” SoYa’s voice brought her out the depths of thought.

“SoYa,” she chided, searching for anything to shift the conversation, “Stop listening in.”

The Athrylith gave a sheepish look and rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry. You were being loud.”

AsaHi sighed in return.

After a moment, SoYa approached conversation again, “I was thinking…”

“Hm?”

“We’re not getting much help from Zazo on this,” he informed her as if she didn’t already know. But then he continued, “So why don’t we go and talk to Zeni instead?”

“Zeni?” AsaHi echoed.

“Yes. I’ve talked with her before,” he answered. “She seems to be fairly friendly and concerned. She might be willing to help us if she realizes something is wrong with Zemi.”

“What do you think she can do?” the girl tapped her bottom lip with a frown.

“I don’t know yet. But it’s a place to start,” SoYa spread his hands.

“Do you know how to find her?”

“I’ve heard that Zeni’s befriended Suzume, actually, during the time Suzume was in Wyndor,” he nodded. “So that’s probably the first place to check.”

“Suzume…” AsaHi tilted her head.

It had been a while since she had seen the girl. Or Lucci. Though she had heard a lot of things about what had happened to the boy during his travels in the Outter Realms, it had been hard for AsaHi to believe any of them. It was hard for her to think of Lucci as anything more than the little boy that she remembered.

I suppose I should go and see for myself.

“Sound good to you?” SoYa asked.

AsaHi nodded, giving his hand a squeeze, “You’re so smart.”

He laughed shyly and an attempt at imitating one of his father’s comebacks, “That’s why you love me?”

The girl covered her mouth with a teasing giggle, “Keep working on it, SoYa.”

The Athrylith just looked all the more abashed.

Then taking a sobering deep breath, AsaHi turned back to peer at the unmoving Dreigiau. Tenderly, she pulled the blankets up around his shoulders and smoothed out his hair. The shimmering light seemed to react to her touch, if only a little.

“Hang in there, Zemi. We’re going to find help,” she told him. Then giving his face one last soft stroke, she turned, leaving the room with SoYa at her side.

"You have so much sorrow to battle inside of you, ZenToYa... and all I can give you... is a hug."

The Spiral lands stretched out before Zento in every direction, reminding him how far he was from home. Soft rolling hills of yellow-tinged grass ran up to greet the edge of the lilac-leaf forests. Groups of stone huts huddled together in their tell-tale circular patterns. Banners emblazoned with a glittering gold lion snapped in the late summer breeze. Soon, autumn would be upon the land and the distant harvest fields lay heavy with anticipation.

ZenToYa had visited the Spiral on a number of occasions in his life. Sometimes as an enemy. Sometimes on a mission for his people’s survival. It had only been lately that he had come as a friend, despite the general unrest that the Spiral people still held for their white-haired neighbors.

But never had he come with such a heavy heart and shattered spirit.

They said it was here that Tsu was turned…

While the battle had raged hot in the sky Islands, a different battle had taken place here. A battle where his youngest son, TsuYa, had fought to protect the children of Nefol. It was here that the great warrior’s spirit had Awakened within him. But upon the Awakening, the wards that had protected him from Zerom’s shadows were destroyed.

He had so little time to know his Awakening…

All Zento had left of his youngest son were stories. Stories and the fleeting mind images from those who had been there. Terrible images and feelings he couldn’t bear to see. And so the winged man had fled, searching for a place far away from anyone who held the dark memories of his son’s fall.

We had so little time together, Tsu. That’s all you really wanted, in the end. For us all to be together.

His burdened mind wandered back to a time long ago, to the first time Zento felt such a crushing pain. The loss of his wife. It had been sudden. Unexpected. Unexplained.

YuKai…

Zento had been out in a hunting party — it had been nothing out of the ordinary. But when he returned home at the end of that week, everything in his life had changed. No one could explain what had happened to his wife. There was no body left behind to tell the tale. Nothing was left but a gaping hole in his heart that had once been filled with her laughter and light.

When you left us, the boys were never the same.

SoYa had grieved for the loss of his mother, as was expected. But TsuYa had been so young, so deeply affected. He had grown more distant, more serious… become so different from the happy little boy he had been while his mother was still alive. Left a widower father of two children, Zento had felt helpless to stop the changes he saw in his youngest son then. Just as he felt helpless to protect his son from the dark transformation that had changed him now.

I was his hero. But time and again, I have let him down.

It was too late, now. Zento’s world had shifted and spun out of control, once more leaving a gaping hole in his soul. For as hard as he had fought and struggled to find a way to save his child, TsuYa was still swallowed by the darkness.

Just as Nefol was.

Just as Ceiswyr was.

Just as we all will be…

He bowed his head, shoulders sagging with the burden of sorrow. The burden of a leadership that he didn’t know if he could rightly bear any longer. Telltale grey strands of hair fell into his eyes, sticking to his face where it was hot with shameless tears.

“That’s not true,” a soft voice carried to his ears from somewhere just behind.

Zento’s head jerked up in momentary surprise. He had not expected anyone to be able to find him, let alone reach the spot where he had chosen to mourn. And he certainly had not expected that anyone could sense his thoughts.

A soft hand touched his shoulder. A tingling sensation spread from the touch, a warm and comforting feeling spreading through his chest.

“Times feel dark right now, ZenToYa. But you must never give up the fight to save your son,” the voice sounded again, this time just beside his ear.

Zento stiffened slightly, head turning. A woman leaned over him, her slender hand soft upon his shoulder. At first, he thought she may have been one of the Spiral people, for she had a similar coloration. But her features were small and delicate, unlike the inhabitants of the Outter Realms. She seemed to glow faintly with a wavering golden light that accented her deep golden skin and pale blond hair. Her eyes shown with quiet violet wisdom and intense concern.

As Zento stared into her face, he felt at once that he should know her. But when he shook his head out, the nagging familiarity scattered away, blamed on a trick of the sunlight’s reflection.

“Zento,” she spoke his name again, a soft accent between slender lips. Her hand lifted from his shoulder, brushing his cheek ever so slightly.

A shiver rushed through his body, his mind reeling back instantly, reaching to hold fast to his internal dedication to his late wife. It was only then that he realized he could hardly remember what she looked like.

“E-Excuse me!” he gave a gasping exclamation. His wings flailed as he jerked away from the woman’s hand, eyes staring at her in shock. “Do I know you!?”

She pulled her hand away, face mirroring his surprise. Then calmness draped back over her features and an easy smile curved her lips. “ZenToYa… relax. You’d think I was a Dragon come for her prey.”

That’s when the voice clicked in his mind. And though he had never seen her person form before, he recognized her. The name whooshed out of his lungs in an embarrassed stammer, “K-KaiShi?”

The woman rewarded him with a silvery laugh.

“KaiShi!” Zento choked, caught somewhere between staring awkwardly and an immense sense of relief. “Why…”

“Silly Zento,” she answered, gently chiding. “I knew that you’d run off and find a secretly secret place to cry your sorrows out. What else would you do if I wasn’t there?”

He couldn’t help but swallow down the last of his discomfort, staring into the light of her eyes. KaiShi was someone whom he had always trusted with the deepest burdens of his soul. And when he came for her council, she always had known exactly what he needed to hear.

She turned her head, a subtle shyness showing, “I just didn’t think the Dragon would cut it this time.”

“What do you mean?” he arched one eyebrow curiously.

“You have so much sorrow to battle inside of you, ZenToYa… and all I can give you… is a hug.” Before he could protest, KaiShi wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder. Her touch was vibrant and warm, once again spreading the soothing sensation through his grief-tightened chest.

Zento didn’t pull away this time. His strength had been stolen by the sorrow… a sorrow that, for the moment, was put to rest by the unexpected care of another. They sat there together, her arms comforting him, watching as the sunlight began slipping downward, setting the violet treeline aflame.

After time had passed, KaiShi was the first one to speak, “I know that is it difficult for you to show your pain to others. I know what it is like to try to remain the strong leader for your people.”

He leaned back on his palms, sucking on his bottom lip for a moment. Allowing her to finish.

“But no one expects you to be an unemotional, unmoving mountain. Especially not right now,” she told him.

“We’ve lost so much,” Zento picked his words slowly. “I have no right to show my grief for the loss of one life… when so many others have died. When I was unable to protect our homelands… unable to–”

“Shhh…” KaiShi reached up and tapped him on the lips, deftly interrupting. “What is it with you guys… always thinking the weight of the world must be born upon your shoulders alone?”

“But I’m–”

“You’re a man, ZenToYa,” she intercepted quickly. “You’re a great man. A man with so much power… but at the same time, so much love. You’re more than just some bedtime story legend told to children in Nefol.”

He found no words to answer.

“You’re a man… and you have a right to be a grieving parent if you need to be. There is no shame in that.”

Zento turned his head slightly. She reached up and gently turned it back with the touch of one finger.

“You have earned the love of your people. Don’t shut us out in your time of grief,” she pleaded softly. “Let us help you… let us help TsuYa.”

He furrowed his brow with a questioning frown, “You don’t think it’s too late for that?”

“I’ve come to believe almost anything is possible,” she lifted her chin slowly. “TsuYa has the same strong spirit as his father. I don’t think he has given up the fight to return to us. That’s why he needs us to keep fighting as well.”

Tsu… would keep fighting…

The thought had not come to him before now. Not with his mind clouded with so much grief. But he knew that she was right… if there was anything left of his son’s spirit, TsuYa would never stop fighting.

Then, I must keep fighting, too…

“That’s right,” she whispered quietly, the twilight glow reflecting from her eyes. “We must all keep fighting. You’re not alone in this battle.”

Not knowing what else to say, Zento lowered his head, “Thank you.”

KaiShi nodded and slowly pulled away, getting to her feet. He could feel a puzzling tinge of reluctance as she did, as if it was so difficult to let him go.  But her face didn’t let it show.

Instead, she straightened, peering off into the sky, “Please come back to us when you’re ready. We still need you.”

Zento nodded, trying to reassure her despite his lack of words.

She said nothing more… she simply took a few steps away. Then her form was encased in a brilliant shaft of golden light. The stone outcropping shook under Zento’s palms momentarily, his breath stolen from his lungs as he stared up. Great Dragon wings unfurled above him, reflecting the sun’s dying glow in unspeakable grace and beauty.

Then KaiShi was gone, a golden Dragon winging off over the crest of the Spiral lands.

The Marked Champion of Zerom stood over the young Sygnus—the shadowed wings extended, black-bladed scythe held between clawed hands.

What is this place?

Lucci peered around the strange chamber, taking a cautious step forward. His limbs felt suspended and his motions were sluggish. Light flickered from above through draping veils of various colors, casting twisted and eerie shadows over the walls. The floor was caked with grime and decay, somewhat squishy as he walked over it.

Why is this place familiar?

Long, deflated figures lay crumpled against the far wall. Dark stains molded with age charted rivers across the floor. Faceless, the figures were covered in long rotted squares of cloth that writhed with the squiggling infection of death vermin and bugs. The stench was overwhelming, turning his stomach inside out.

“Ugh!” Lucci covered his nose and mouth, fighting the bile that rose in his throat. As he did, he stumbled, slipping backwards against something cold and metal.

Peering over one shoulder, he could make out some sort of machine, unlike anything he had ever seen before. There was one long, slender capsule, standing upright within its fixtures. Except for the small glass area near the top, it was completely enclosed in a featureless black case. Numerous clear tubes and snaking wires ran into the shell from a small boxlike device.

His eyes traced the spiderwebbing wires, peering away from the first capsule to observe the second. It looked to have once been some clear, glass globe. But now it stood shattered, pieces scattered over the molding floor. Looking at it left a cold chill in the pit of his stomach.

I’ve got to figure out where I am… and how to get out of here.

Just as the thought brushed through his mind, Lucci heard the sound of a low, guttural growl. Prickles spread across his skin as he stiffened. There were not many things that the young Sygnus feared… but something about this sound left his breath cold in his chest.

Silver eyes turned, peering across the room. A shadow stood there. The outline of a man.

No… it can’t be…

The shape began to approach, the growl growing louder, reverberating within Lucci’s mind. The young Sygnus pressed back against the cold metal of the machine, his hands scrabbling over the slimy surface as if to find something to fend away the darkness.

As it came nearer, Lucci began to make out the features. Intense, dark eyes. The shock of side-swept hair. Mouth curled back in a disgruntled scowl, showing the hint of fangs. A strange scrawled Mark ran along one cheek.

“Master TsuYa!” he gasped, relaxing somewhat at the sight. It was Master TsuYa… as he was before that terrible day. Before the transformation had taken him. Lucci reached his hand forward. “Please… come back with me! Whatever has happened to you, we can fix it. You just have to give us time!”

Master TsuYa reeled back, shattering the air with a piercing, inhuman shriek. The sound ripped through Lucci’s mind with a terrible, searing pain. Though the young Sygnus clamped his hands over his ears, nothing could shut it out. He found his own voice rising in a tortured scream.

Through squinty eyes he could see it happening all over again. The darkness creeping over Master TsuYa’s form, bleeding through his skin, into his hair. Wings bursting from his shoulders with a sickly sound. Skin erupting as black spikes tore through flesh and cloth. Thick black blood splashing across the wall and the floor.

Hollowed black eyes burning with a terrible, haunted light.

“No! Nooo!” Lucci felt panic taking him as he backed away. He slipped through the grime, gagging as he breathed mouthfuls of the putrid decay with every gasp. “Please!”

The Marked Champion of Zerom stood over the young Sygnus—the shadowed wings extended, black-bladed scythe held between clawed hands. A low rumbling growl shook the room as the creature advanced, a trickle of black streaming from the reflectionless depths of his eyes.

Then, the growl began to form words, “You shouldn’t be here, kid! Get out!”

Lucci didn’t know what was more shocking: the fact that he wasn’t getting mauled… the fact that the Marked could speak… or the fact that Master TsuYa seemed aware enough to recognize him.

So there really IS something of Master TsuYa left…

Lucci heard his retort, foolish and idealistic even to his ears, “No! I’m not leaving without bringing you back!”

The growl shifted into a nasty snarl, “It’s too late for me, boy. But if he gets his hands on you, it’s too late for everyone!”

“That’s not going to happen!” Lucci protested, taking a slow step forward.

“Don’t be ridiculous! You can’t possibly–” Master TsuYa’s argument fell silent as the dark eyes shot one quick glance over his shoulder. When he rounded his attention back on the young Sygnus, the bladed scythe lifted. “No time — he’s come! Get out of here! And don’t come back!”

“Master TsuYa! Wait!” he stumbled back, hands lifting in feeble defense.

The Marked Champion’s face twisted in a snarling roar, the scythe lashing out at lightning speed. Lucci was knocked back by the raw strength of the blow, a searing pain jolting through his body. His frightened cry echoed from the cold walls, falling muffled before rising up strong again.

“Lucci!” Suzume’s shout suddenly rang in his ears. He could feel someone shaking him, fighting to bring him back to reality. “Lucci, wake up!”

Reality… where he found himself sprawled on the floor next to his bed, face drenched with fearful sweat. He struggled to sit up, his shaking arms having a mind of their own. His silver eyes focused on the frightened face of the dark haired girl who stood over him, little fingers still holding fast to his shirt front.

She looked like she might start crying at any moment.

“Suzume… I’m… alright,” he tried for his best comforting tone. But he couldn’t hide the fear that seeped into his voice.

The girl was already checking him over, pulling up his sleeves and yanking up his shirt.

“AH! Suzume!” Lucci protested with a rising flush of embarrassment. “What are you doing!?”

“You had a nightmare, didn’t you?” the dark haired girl sniffled. “Master TsuYa had them, too. All the time! And he got that terrible Mark… and his skin turned colors…”

“Whoa… whoa! Suzume,” he captured her little hands in his. Though he was shaken by the instant connection she had made between his nightmare and Master TsuYa, he continued to do his best to calm her down. “Look at me.”

Suzume gave a little hiccup and looked up at him.

“I’m alright,” Lucci told her, silver eyes searching her dark ones. “Okay?”

The girl didn’t respond. She simply gave a choked sound and threw her arms around his neck.

It was difficult for her not to be afraid, he knew. She had been there to see Master TsuYa’s transformation… sometimes she even seemed to blame herself for it. And though Lucci had done the best he could to keep the girl company, she knew more than anyone else what he really wanted to be doing.

She knew how he wanted to take the dark blade he found at the peak of the Obelisk and embark on a personal crusade across the Cleft. How he wanted to challenge the darkness of Zerom… how he wanted to destroy the Chaotic Arweinydd that now devoured their homelands.

But they won’t let me…

Despite the fact that Lucci had the weapon that could bring Zeromus down – perhaps the only thing that could truly threaten him – they wouldn’t let him return to Nefol to fight the final battle. No matter how he argued. No matter how he pleaded, pouted, fumed and implored. They wouldn’t listen to a word he said.

They still treat me like I’m nothing more than a child.

Lucci looked at his hand where it lay gently on Suzume’s head. It was broad and strong now… large enough to wield the length of his sword. Powerful enough to challenge the one that claimed to be his father.

But no one believed in his strength.

No one trusts a Sygnus.

Just then, a hesitant knock came at the far door. Both turned to look at it, stopped in mid-though and mid-sniffle.

Suzume’s eyes widened, “That’s right..! I came to find you because Master SoYa and Lady AsaHi wanted to speak with you!”

“What?” Lucci sat up with a jolt.

It had been so long since he had seen either of them… not since before he left the Islands on his journey. His gaze fell on his tousled reflection in the mirror as he scrambled to his feet.

They can’t see me like this!

“Lucci?” Suzume gave him a funny look as he began to dig out a fresh pair of trousers from his laundry stack.

“Tell them I’ll be out in just a moment!” both hands on her shoulders, he gave the girl a gentle nudge out the door.

“But–”

“I’m changing!” he exclaimed, quickly shutting the door behind her.

He could hear Suzume’s fluster huff from the other side as she went to relay his message. But he was too busy scrambling to find an unwrinkled shirt that he could still fit into. Fixing his long silver hair, Lucci scowled at his face in the mirror and scrubbed at the strange silver markings along his cheek.

What are they going to think of me?

Both Lady AsaHi and Master SoYa had always been so kind to him, ever since he could first remember. They had both believed in him even when so few had. It was difficult to think that he would have to face them… now that he had so obviously become more like the Sygnus, the Bane of their legends.

I suppose it’s a good sign that they came here to talk to me. Maybe there’s something I can do to help them… and then they’ll like me.

With one long breath, Lucci straightened the front of his tunic. Checked his boots. Rolled up the uneven end of his sleeves. Studied the hem of his now-too-short-cloak.

Then promptly lost all courage to reach for the doorknob.

“Lucci-boy…” Kaz’s soft voice intoned from somewhere on the far side of the room.

The young Sygnus glanced over.

“Don’t be afraid,” the words spoke without form. Kaz seemed to be able to manifest whenever he felt the need to… but even then, he didn’t always show up.

“I’m trying.”

“I get the funny feeling something important is happening,” Kaz continued. “I think they need you.”

“Really?” Lucci’s face spoke uncertainty.

“Why don’t you go and find out.”

Just that quickly, he knew that Kaz had vanished.

“Find out…” Lucci echoed. Then working up the last of his courage, he reached out and turned the door knob.

]]> http://www.dreigiau.com/ch20-3/feed 1 http://www.dreigiau.com/ch20-4 http://www.dreigiau.com/ch20-4#comments Fri, 16 Jan 2009 05:05:44 +0000 Aywren http://www.dreigiau.com/?p=1014

“And I know a thing or two about Arweinydd!”

It was good for AsaHi to see Suzume again.

It was only a matter of moments before the dark haired girl was inviting them inside, pulling them both over to the wicker chairs in the center of the room. Just as quickly, AsaHi started up conversation – asking the girl all about where she had been and the things she had seen. Talking about wings. Feathers and flying.

AsaHi was so worried about Suzume. She was always sending her letters and trying to encourage her.

Now that the two were together again, he could sense a spark of cheer that had been so far and in between after all the dark things that had happened. SoYa didn’t interrupt. He simply sat in his own chair, waiting and watching. Noticing things.

Suzume talks so grown up now… I guess we’re not the only ones that have been through a lot lately.

A little time passed before their conversation was cut off by the click of the opening bedchamber door. SoYa turned with a cautious eye, hands gripping the arms of his chair. Waiting.

They say Lucci’s become the Sygnus…

He knew it was wrong to base his thoughts off of the word of others, especially others who had treated the boy with contempt back in Ceiswyr. But even SoYa couldn’t help being a bit nervous at the thought of harboring a Sygnus among them. Especially a Sygnus who carried a weapon that was forged through Arweinydd wars during the Time Before.

AsaHi had fallen silent, her head turned towards the slowly opening door. SoYa sucked in a sharp breath through his nose as the young Sygnus stepped into the room.

It was undoubtedly Lucci. But the silver hair was much longer. Silver eyes were deeper and somewhat haunted. His lanky teenage form was now taller and stronger. Strange runes marked along his jawline, the same cold silver color as the shifting mists that followed at his heels.

SoYa found his hands gripping the arms of his chair more tightly. Until he took a closer look.

One side of Lucci’s shirt had come untucked as he had mis-buttoned it from the collar down. The tunic vest was clearly two sizes too small while his trousers didn’t quite tuck into the tops of his boots the way they should have. His cloak also looked too small for him, bearing the familiar stains that came from days of long travel. And under the shadow of the grown-up brow, there was the uncertainty of the boy that SoYa remembered.

Lucci stood for a moment before awkwardly attempting to bow. His voice was strained with apprehension, “Master SoYa. Lady AsaHi…”

Maybe AsaHi could see the same things that SoYa could. Maybe it was the clumsy attempt to bow. Or maybe the fear in the young man’s voice. Whatever it was, SoYa could tell that she had been won over even before she got to her feet.

“Lucci..!” AsaHi half exclaimed, crossing the room to him. She took his arm with a soft sound. “Look at you! When did you get to be so handsome?”

The young Sygnus just gave a shy smile, unable to even stammer a reply.

Taking her cue, SoYa also got to his feet, “It’s been a while. It’s good to see you, Lucci.”

The young man nodded in return, finally managing a few words, “It’s good to see you, too. I’m glad… you didn’t get hurt… in the battles…”

“We were worried when you disappeared like you did,” AsaHi told him.

“I’m sorry,” Lucci offered an apologetic look.

“It’s alright,” SoYa pursed his lips. “We all have to do what needs to be done, sometimes.”

The young Sygnus was silent for a moment. Then he said again, “It’s hard. And I’m sorry.”

SoYa glanced up with a puzzled face.

“About Master TsuYa,” Lucci added, wincing a bit. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” the Athrylith drew in a long breath before he sat down again. “I know you did everything you could. We all did.”

“Come on,” AsaHi took the young man’s arm, leading him towards the chairs. “Let’s try not to talk about too much sadness. We have to figure out what we’re going to do here and now… not point the blame for things that have already happened.”

Lucci gave them a long frown as he sat down. When he spoke next, it was the exact words that SoYa had been hoping to hear, “There’s some trouble, isn’t there? Is there something I can do to help?”

“As a matter of fact, I think there might be,” the Athrylith answered, relaxing slowly in his chair.

“Not for us, though,” AsaHi corrected. “It’s Zemi.”

“Lord Zemi?” Suzume echoed, leaning over the arm of Lucci’s chair.

“We think he may be… sick,” AsaHi seemed to be searching for the best words to use.

“Is that possible?” Lucci’s voice was thick with incredulity.

“I know how it sounds,” SoYa replied. “But I saw it for myself. Something happened to Zemi when Ceiswyr fell.”

“He was fighting Zeromus,” AsaHi’s voice was quiet. “It could have something to do with Chaos, too.”

Suzume and Lucci exchanged worried frowns.

Then the young Sygnus spoke, “You know that I’ll do whatever I can to help Lord Zemi. Only, I’m not sure exactly how.”

“We’re not all that certain either, Lucci,” SoYa spread his hands. “We were hoping that if we can find out a little more about what can make an Arweinydd sick, we can figure out how to reverse it.”

“Suzume,” AsaHi began, “We know that you’ve been spending a lot of time talking to Zeni. Do you think that you would be able to persuade her to talk to us… if it would help her brother?”

The girl blinked. “I don’t see why not. She cares a lot about Lord Zemi.”

AsaHi smiled and pressed her hands together, “Good! Then maybe we can–”

“The child-Arweinydd won’t have the answers,” an unfamiliar voice suddenly interrupted.

“What?” AsaHi stopped with a puzzled frown.

“I said, Zeni won’t have the answers any more than you do,” the voice repeated. “None of the young Arweinydd understand what they are or where they come from… much less how to deal with the first wave of Becoming.”

“Who said that?” SoYa stared around the room, eyes wide.

“I did.”

A flickering glow appeared within the doorway to the bedchamber. At first, it was nothing more than a hazy light that rippled in mid-air. But ever so slowly, it began to take the form of a man… a tall, somewhat disheveled man with strangely deep eyes and pale hair. He offered them a wide smile as he stepped into the room, his image growing more and more firm until it became completely solid.

His smile faded the moment that AsaHi gave a small, frightened scream.

“Hold on!” Lucci was on his feet, hands spread in a calming motion. “This is Kaz! He’s a friend!”

“He’s a ghost!” AsaHi’s fists were jammed up to her mouth, eyes wide.

“We prefer the term Spirit. Or Departed, if you must,” Kaz sighed, half to himself.

“But you’re still a ghost!” the girl waved her hands forward.

“AsaHi… wait,” SoYa’s voice was smooth as he squinted at the Spirit. “I don’t think he’s dangerous.”

“Of course not!” the wide smile had returned. “I’m very friendly!”

AsaHi eyed Kaz with an uncertain look, but didn’t argue.

“He’s helped me,” Lucci explained. “He’s my friend. And he’s from the Time Before.”

SoYa perked up, turning a questioning gaze at the Spirit, “The Time Before? Really?”

“That’s right!” Kaz half pranced back and forth before them. “And I know a thing or two about Arweinydd!”

“Do you think you can tell us what is making Zemi sick?” AsaHi frowned a little.

“It’s possible,” he shrugged. “I’d have to talk to him first.”

SoYa leaned back with a thoughtful look. Then he turned towards AsaHi, “I don’t think that could hurt anything. Do you?”

“Zemi’s not talking to anyone right now. He’s hardly moved at all since we got him here,” the girl answered.

“Let me guess… he’s particling,” Kaz held up a finger.

“What?” SoYa furrowed his brows.

“Breaking off into a bunch of tiny floating light particles,” the Spirit defined.

“That’s right… how did you know?” the Athrylith blinked.

“I told you. I know a few things about Arweinydd,” the Spirit began to prance again with a self-important expression.

AsaHi leaned over to SoYa, whispering, “I think he’s a little strange… are you sure it’s a good idea?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered back. “But we may not have the time to be picky about the help we get. I think we should at least let him try and talk to Zemi. He seems to know things that we don’t.”

AsaHi took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “Okay. But maybe we should keep Lucci around… just in case.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” SoYa pursed his lips, glancing across the room.

Kaz beamed a wide, friendly smile in return.

The Athrylith cleared his throat before asking, “Lucci, Suzume and… uh… Kaz. Would you mind coming back with us to Zemi’s chambers? Maybe we can figure something out between all of us.”

“Of course, Master SoYa,” the young Sygnus nodded without a second’s worth of thought. “Anything for Lord Zemi.”

Without further discussion, they rose to their feet — two winged girls, an Athrylith, a Sygnus and a Spirit from the Time Before – and made their way towards the resting chamber of the Arweinydd.

]]> http://www.dreigiau.com/ch20-4/feed 9 http://www.dreigiau.com/ch20-5 http://www.dreigiau.com/ch20-5#comments Fri, 30 Jan 2009 05:02:43 +0000 Aywren http://www.dreigiau.com/?p=1020

"I... failed them..." Zemi heard himself say.

Why… is everything so fuzzy?

Something appeared to be wrong with his vision portals, though Zemi didn’t know exactly what the issue was. In fact, he didn’t even know where he was. Why he was there. And why the world was so white and floaty.

The sensation wasn’t painful or really that undesirable. His physical weight seemed nonexistent – something that he would need to tweak again later. His vision wasn’t projecting correctly. His audio was muted and dim. And his train of thought – when did he get one of those?! – was functioning far slower than it had a right to.

That’s the problem with these physical forms. Always requiring so much maintenance.

A nagging in the back of his mind told him that something had happened to cause this failure in his so finely-researched and well-crafted Earthian form. Only, he couldn’t remember exactly what the experience had been. So he decided that it must not have been that important.

Failure? Impossible. Zemi Dreigiau does not fail!

But every time he told himself that, the nagging returned. Oh, yes. Zemi Dreigiau had failed. And he had failed in the worst way possible.

You’re going to have to work a little harder if you want me to believe that.

And so the thought would recede, fading off into the distant haze. Until Zemi began to wonder once again why everything was so fuzzy.

He might have spent a small eternity pondering these questions if the voice had not come to him. At first, Zemi thought it had to be a trick of his malfunctioning audio receptors. For whatever strange sort of state he was in, it was not possible for any other willful presence to push its way into his awareness. Arweinydd were not the same as Earthians, after all. They didn’t have the same visual and aural mind activity… dreams… open consciousness… All the things that it took to tap in and create the sensation of mind speak and physical illus-

“Zemi!” the voice sounded again, this time more insistent.

“Augh!” the Dreigiau responded. “You aren’t real! Be gone!”

“I most certainly am real, boy,” the voice retorted hotly. Then it even forced a visual appearance to take shape right there. Though the form was wavery, like a reflection in a rippling pool, Zemi could make out the image of a man. Appearing there. Impossibly in his non-existent Earthian-like mental imagery.

“How did you do that?” Zemi grit his teeth, taking a step back.

“The same way you just did,” the form lifted one hand to point.

That’s when Zemi realized that somehow, he too, had imposed a physical representation of himself as a mental image within his own-

“Will you please stop trying to make sense of this? The how is not important, Zemi. You need to be focusing on the why,” the voice told him, becoming a bit more gentle.

“The why?” the Dreigiau asked, busy waving his hand in front of his face. It looked and felt solid enough for a visual representation of– He forced himself to refocus on the voice’s words, “They why what?”

“Not what. Just why,” came the answer.

“What?” Zemi was now thoroughly lost.

The voice sighed, holding up both hands. “Okay. Let’s try this again. From the start.”

“Alright…” Zemi answered, half attentive. He toed at the ground with one boot, curious about the manifestation of clothing and how he could possibly have physical contact with a floor-like structure that did not appear to have any visual-

“Zemi!”

“Huh?”

“You’re particling!” the voice informed him in a deeply worried tone.

“I’m what?”

“Particling,” he repeated. “Losing your physical form… returning to your origins of light.”

“I am?” Zemi looked down at his hands. They seemed just fine to him.

“Not here,” the voice sighed, motioning with one hand. “Out there. In the world of Awareness.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” the Dreigiau admitted slowly. His tone had grown more grim… there was something in the way that this strange being spoke that seemed very serious.

“Zemi… things have happened. Bad things,” came the quiet, concerned reply. “And somehow, in the mix of it all, you’re getting all separated.”

“Separated?”

“Your essence. Your awareness. They’re breaking apart from each other. You’re losing your connection to the physical world,” the voice explained. “If you don’t do something to stop it, you will return to what you were before — the Light without Knowing. And all that you have made… everyone who is counting on you… all of that will fade away.”

A sharp jolt cracked through the foggy white of his mind. As the words rang in his mind, memories suddenly bubbled up, carrying with them flickers of images. Dark images.

Himself. A Dragon. Flying into Zerom’s Chaos. With the tiny form of AsaHi on his back.

AsaHi… she…

Awakening. Her wings spread wide. Her struggle to save them as they fell.

As Ceiswyr fell. Raining like tears around them.

No! That couldn’t… it didn’t…

The pain of his people crying out to him. Feeling their spirits flicker and fade within his mind.

So many lost. So little I could do.

TsuYa’s Marked transformation. How they had lost the one that had meant so much to Zento.

Zerom’s triumph.

Zemi Dreigiau‘s defeat.

“It’s not over yet,” the voice broke in, fighting to overpower the sorrowful memories. Fighting to be heard above the Arweinydd’s grief.

“I… failed them…” Zemi heard himself say. His own voice sounded unreal to his ears. The words were even more unreal.

Zemi Dreigiau… does not… fail…

“No. You haven’t,” a soft wavering hand was on his shoulder. “Zemi, listen to me. I need you to hear me out.”

It was hard to hear anything. Everything was becoming more and more blurry. Shifting around him like a vast ocean of regret and defeat. Pounding within his mind. Tearing him down from inside out.

“ZEMI!” came the frantic shout. “Don’t leave them! They need you!”

No… they don’t…

“Yes! They do!” the voice argued. “Ceiswyr may be gone. There may have been people lost. But there are still a lot of people left alive! And those people need their Patron! Zerom and his Marked are sitting on the other side of that Cleft just sniffing for a way to get across. If you leave them now, then Zerom will win! He will take everything. And there will not be a single light left in this world that can stand up to that kind of Chaos!”

Zemi focused on the words… they had become clearer once more.

“But… I can’t fight it either…” the Dreigiau spoke slowly. “I can’t strike at him for fear of falling to the Chaos myself. All I have been able to do is struggle to defend… and fall back as his power grows. How can I… an Arweinydd… fight another of my own kind?”

“Zemi,” the voice was soft again. A reassuring touch on his shoulder. “There is more to you than you may realize.”

The Arweinydd glanced up with a quizzical look.

“You have so much power… so much strength,” it continued. “But that has all been tempered in your art. In learning about your people. In finding compassion and love for the Earthians. Not in battle… struggles… and war.”

“Then what should I do?” Zemi frowned.

“Realize that you haven’t reached your full potential. That, like the Earthians, you can still change and grow. That there is so much about your kind… and yourself… that you have yet to learn,” came the gentle answer.

“Are you saying… there might be a way that I can stand up to Zerom and his Chaos?”

“It’s possible. But you have to unify yourself and your energies first — all parts of yourself.”

“Parts?” Zemi frowned. “What does–”

“Now Zemi… if I gave you all the answers, that would take away the point of the journey,” the voice gave a quiet laugh. “There are just some things that you have to discover for yourself.”

“But–”

“Isn’t that what you say about your Earthians?” the image began to ripple and fade.

“Yes, but–”

“They’re waiting for you, Zem. Why don’t you see what your Watcher has to say about all this?” the voice became more and more distant. “Just remember… you haven’t failed them… until you’ve given up.”

“Wait!” the Dreigiau protested. “Where are you going? I wasn’t done talking to yo–”

“Zemi!” another voice rang through his mind. A voice that he recognized instantly.

AsaHi?

“Zemi?” the girl’s voice pleaded. It sounded so worried. So heartbroken. “Please, wake up!”

Wake up..? But Arweinydd don’t slee-

The room around him suddenly came into focus. Tiny dancing particles of light floated before his eyes, capering across the sunlight that streamed through the windows. They alighted gently on the bed sheets… the curtains… and in AsaHi’s hair.

The girl stood over him, face etched in lines of deep worry – worry all for him. She was just as beautiful as he remembered. The way the light reflected from her bright green eyes. The way her mouth curved… so small and delicate. The way her slender hand rested so lightly against his forehead.

If this is what I get for particling… I should try it more often.

A faint laugh rumbled in his chest.

“Zemi? Can you hear me?” Another face popped into view – SoYa.

All love-sick day dreams of AsaHi poofed out of his thoughts instantly. He tried to keep the grudging out of his tone, “Yeah… I hear you.”

“Oh… thank goodness!” AsaHi sighed deeply, hugging him around the neck.

That made the situation decidedly better again.

“Hey… I’m all good. Why the long faces?” the Dreigiau attempted a casual approach. Afterall, if he didn’t let them sense trouble, there would be no reason for them to think there was any.

“Because you haven’t been doing well,” SoYa told him with a grim look. He reached his hand out, capturing one of the floating specks of light. “Look, AsaHi. They… seem to be fading.”

The girl sat up, loosening her hold on the Dreigiau’s neck. He silently mourned the loss.

“Then they must really have been a part of Zemi, afterall,” she said slowly, giving him a quizzical frown.

“Particling” he said. I guess this is what he meant.

“Are you feeling any better, Lord Zemi?” came a smooth, calm voice from the far side of the room.

The Dreigiau pushed himself into a sitting position, teal-flecked eyes squinting through the light. It took him a long moment to figure out who he was seeing. Long silver hair… deep silver eyes… open and boyish concern… young Suzume hanging around one broad shoulder.

“Lucci..?” his voice creaked out despite all attempts to school it.

Now that… was unexpected.

The young Sygnus rose to his feet, crossed the room and stooped next to the bedside. He hesitated just a moment before reaching out to the Arweinydd.

Zemi took his hands, “You came back safely.”

“You sent people to help me,” Lucci replied frankly. “You believed I could find it… didn’t you?”

“Yes,” the Dreigiau nodded quietly. “I believe if anyone can turn this battle… it will be you.”

The young man’s eyes widened with surprise, as if he wasn’t used to people putting so much hope in him. He simply nodded dumbly, over and over and over again. “I want to help. I want to stop Zeromus.”

“I know. So do I,” Zemi told him, patting one hand fondly. “And we’re going to. If you can just be patient for a little bit longer.”

“What do you mean, Zemi?” SoYa inquired with a tilt of his head.

“I’m not completely sure. There are some things I need to check into first,” the Arweinydd admitted.  Then his eyes glinted with a new light, focusing on the faces around him, “But this fight isn’t over with. Not just yet.”

It was as if a warming wave of hope had just washed through the room — their faces had lit up with their own new-found strength. Their minds opened to the possibilities… to the power of a Patron inspiring his people.

Even Lucci broke out into an honest-to-goodness grin, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Tell me a little bit more about what’s wrong… maybe I can help you.”

“Sooooooooooo what are you? The King of the Spiral?” Oren beamed his trademark grin as he hooked a friendly arm around Aur’s shoulders.

JouKa winced a little. It was not the sort of thing that one randomly did to the Watcher from the Time Before. Luckily, Aur didn’t appear to be annoyed by it — or maybe he was and he just wasn’t showing it. It was so hard to tell with Aur most of the time.

“What makes you ask that?” Aur glanced over at the red haired man with quiet, hooded eyes.

“Well, you know? Lion? King?” Oren waved his free hand around. “And just the fact that your face is practically plastered all over the banners around here. So what’s the deal?”

“Oren…” JouKa sighed softly.

“What? It’s just a question,” he arched his eyebrows in response. It was that sort of hey-don’t-look-at-me innocent expression that had started to drive her nuts the better she got to know him.

By definition, Oren was the embodiment of blamelessness. Or so he seemed to believe.

“I am simply the diplomatic overseer of the Spiral, acting on Zemi’s behalf. That is all,” Aur answered.

“Suuure,” the red haired man laughed, flopping down in the big cushy chair nearby. “That’s why they’ve got you decked out in a place like this.”

“I cannot help it if the people of the Spiral wish to make more of me than I am,” the Watcher intoned quietly.

“Someone should give this guy an award for modesty,” Oren just grinned. Then he leaned with one elbow on the previously spotless table top. “What do you think, Jou?”

“I think… that I’ve told ya not to call me that,” she huffed, turning her head with a flutter of wings.

“Come on! I know you like it,” he responded, leaning even closer.

JouKa gave him a slight shove back. “Just who do ya think ya are?”

Oren just laughed all the more. His grin had turned teasing in what JouKa called “his uncultured and brutish way.”  But no matter what names she called him, it didn’t faze him one bit.

A slight smile touched Aur’s lips as he began to pace slowly in front of the large windows. A subtle interest shown in the way his golden eyes kept straying to watch their interactions.

Whether it was an act on Oren’s part was hard to tell. JouKa knew that he could be just as gentlemanly as he could be uncouth — it all really depended on what he deemed appropriate, she had learned. Maybe it was because he reminded her of the people she had grown up with in the Gathering, but something about his company was comforting in the midst of all the turmoil and breakdown. Though JouKa would never admit it out loud, she didn’t know what she would have done without Oren’s good natured bantering and optimistic outlook to keep her moving forward.

I just don’t know ‘ow ‘e does it.

As was the way of the people of the land, Oren appeared to have a lot of confidence, even at a time when darkness was closing in on every side. When JouKa’s own spirits were crushed, he wasn’t content to let her sink in her sorrow. Though it had been very difficult as of late.

I didn’t know ‘ow much it would hurt…

KoGuRai’s death at TsuYa’s hands. It was something that played in her mind over and over and over again. Her thoughts were haunted with the idea that maybe there was something she could have done to stop it. If she had intercepted, somehow, maybe the fight would have never happened. And if the fight would have never happened, maybe KoGuRai would still be alive. And TsuYa wouldn’t have become the next Marked Champion.

But instead, her worst nightmares had come true, right before her eyes. They were both gone, both far out of her reach. And nothing she could do would save either of them now.

I don’t understand why… terrible things ‘ad to ‘appen. They were both good guys once you got to know them. Neither of them deserved this.

“Hey. You’re thinking again,” Oren’s large hand cupped around hers. She realized she had been wringing her hands again, an all too obvious sign to him that she was worried.

“Yeah… well… you don’t think enough,” JouKa attempted a weak retort.

“No one’s ever accused me of having half a brain,” he smiled, trying to keep things light.

JouKa didn’t feel like smiling. But she did anyways. For him.

They’ve taken good care of me. Oren… and Aur…

The golden haired Watcher glanced her way as if sensing her thoughts.

I know I’m very lucky to ‘ave them.

That’s when Aur’s deep voice rumbled, “We are going to have visitors soon.”

“How do you know?” Oren asked, leaning back in the big chair, one eye squinting.

The Watcher just gave him a long, silent look.

“Alright, alright,” the red haired warrior waved his hands. Then he turned to JouKa and teasingly informed her, “We’re going to have visitors soon.”

JouKa almost snorted through her nose at his randomness. Instead, she just pushed Oren away again.

It didn’t take very long before there was a knock at the door, just as Aur had predicted. The Watcher rose to answer it, a polite exchange of words made through the doorway. When Aur stepped back into the room, Lord Zemi Dreigiau and his Dragon warrior, Kudako, followed.

JouKa rose to her feet at, giving a quick curtsey, “Lord Zemi!”

“Oooooh,” came Oren’s long, thoughtful sound. “THE Lord Zemi?”

The Arweinydd arched his eyebrow, hands folded behind his back. The Dragon warrior behind him appeared to be bored.

“Oren!” JouKa hissed over her shoulder. “Of course it’s THE Lord Zemi!”

“Of course! Forgive me, M’lord,” Oren echoed with a nervous laugh as he got to his feet and attempted a respectful bow.

The Dreigiau simply waved one dismissing hand as he took a seat, “No worries. Just relax.”

Kudako, however, looked less than relaxed. The Dragon shadowed the Arweinydd, standing sternly behind his seat with glittering, unblinking eyes.

“I’m glad to see you up and about, Lord Zemi,” Aur offered, sitting calmly across from the Dreigiau. “I had heard there were some… difficulties…”

“A few. But I’m working on it,” Lord Zemi answered.

“I knew you would,” the Watcher nodded. Then with a lift of his chin, he inquired, “What is it that you need from me, M’lord?”

“A little less formality, for one,” the Arweinydd grinned, the hint of fangs showing.

Aur sighed quietly.

Oren gave a little laugh, murmuring under his breath, “I think I like this guy.”

Before JouKa could chide, Lord Zemi flicked a bit of a grin at the red haired man. “An Outlander?”

“Yes Sir,” the warrior grinned back. “The name’s Oren. 100% Outlander. At your service, Lord Dragon.”

“It’s good to meet you, Oren,” the Arweinydd nodded. “It’s been a while since I’ve had contact with your people. But they always know how to show good hospitality.”

“That we do, M’lord,” Oren pumped one fist with a proud look.

Kudako cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle hint that there were more important things to be addressing at the moment. As if somewhat reluctant, Lord Zemi nodded and leaned forward, templing his fingers together.

“I don’t exactly know how to start this,” the Dreigiau said, eyes resting on his Watcher. “Other than to say that a spirit’s voice told me to seek you out for guidance.”

“Spirit’s voice?” Aur pursed his lips with a heavy brow.

“One of the spirits that have taken up residence around Lucci,” Lord Zemi explained. “Apparently, this one has befriended the boy… Lucci’s even given him the name of Kaz.”

Suddenly, the Watcher visibly stiffened. For one so emotionless, it was a serious over reaction.

Lord Zemi must have noticed as well because he asked, “Is that… someone you know? The spirit claims to be from the Time Before.”

Aur’s golden eyes took a long, hard look at the Arweinydd before he answered evasively, “I knew a lot of beings from the Time Before.”

Oren exchanged a curious look with JouKa, but had enough sense to keep his mouth shut.

“I see,” It was obvious that Lord Zemi wanted more information, but when the Watcher didn’t offer further words, the Dreigiau didn’t push the issue.

“Why did this spirit voice tell you to come to me?” Aur asked instead.

“Because, I…” the Arweinydd stopped dead, glancing at Oren and JouKa. Something akin to embarrassment hung over his face.

“Because you…?” the Watcher prodded gently.

“Because something’s wrong,” Lord Zemi blurted quickly.

“With?”

The teal eyes flickered towards them again, then focused on something outside the window, “Me.”

Aur’s voice was level and calm, “Now, was that so hard to admit?”

Lord Zemi ground his teeth for a moment. Then he answered, “Yeeaaaah…”

“Alright,” the Watcher leaned back in his chair. “Tell me a little bit more about what’s wrong… maybe I can help you.”

“It might have something to do with Chaos,” the Dreigiau began. At the word ‘Chaos,’ he stopped and quickly backtracked, “Not that I’m going Chaotic or anything like that. I just think that maybe…”

Aur’s golden eyes were focused on the struggling Arweinydd. He nodded gently over and over and over again, with an encouraging arch to his eyebrow.

“I think that maybe something happened to me when I faced Zerom. Something happened when Ceiswyr fell,” Lord Zemi finally said, biting the words off as if each one was something foul tasting in his mouth. “And I haven’t been able to… take…”

“Take…?”

“…Take… my Dragon form… ever since the Islands fell,” the Arweinydd’s gaze lowered.

JouKa’s mouth opened slightly. She didn’t mean for Lord Zemi to hear her sound of surprise and concern. But he must have, for he shot glance in her direction, teal eyes glimmering with shame.

“I’m sorry,” the Dreigiau intoned quietly. “I know the last thing anyone needs to hear is how you all have a gimped Patron now.”

Something stirred in her chest at his disheartened half-droop. Never had she seen the Lord Zemi Dreigiau so open and honest… almost Earthian. And though she was bad at the sympathy thing, the winged girl felt like she needed to say something. Anything.

“No, Lord Zemi. It’s not… like that at all,” JouKa told him.

“No?” he asked.

“No,” she shook her head. “When I was an outcast of my own peoples, ya brought me to your Islands and gave me a place to be. Maybe at first, I didn’t really think that I fit in there. It was kinda ‘ard. But now that it’s gone, I realize what a special place ya made for everyone. And I know ya fought as ‘ard as ya could to keep it safe. I don’t think there’s anything ya could do to make me think lesser of ya, Lord Zemi.”

The Arweinydd stared at her for a moment, too surprised to reply.

Kudako, however, found words for him, “Thank you.”

“Huh?” JouKa frowned.

“I’ve been trying to tell him that. But he will not listen to my reasoning. Maybe he will listen to yours,” the Dragon warrior grunted.

Lord Zemi just sighed, appealing to the Watcher once again, “So… that’s what I mean when I say something is wrong. Do you have any ideas?”

Aur tapped his chin with one finger before nodding slowly. “It sounds like you’ve lost your unification.”

The Arweinydd’s head jerked up, “That’s a lot like what the spirit voice said, too.”

“I’m sure he did, Lord Zemi,” the golden haired man simply agreed.

“And so… how do I get this unification thing back?”

“Usually imbalances like this are restored in their own time,” Aur answered. “But in the case of Chaos having some effect, you may need to find outside assistance. Something to help you balance out your energies of Creation.”

Oren gave a soft whistle, “This is waaaay over my head.”

“Don’t worry… me, too,” JouKa whispered.

“Me three,” Lord Zemi added, much to her surprise. He leaned forward with a slight grin. “Aur, this all sounds great. Don’t get me wrong. But I don’t know the first place to go looking for something to help balance out Creation. Is that like… a little walk-in hair salon or a downtown pub on the corner? Let’s call it Clyde’s Creation and More!”

The Watcher didn’t look amused. “I’m being serious, Lord Zemi.”

“So am I,” the Arweinydd spread his hands. “Throw me a line here. I’m sinking.”

“I would suggest that you start by finding sources of power that date back to the Time Before,” Aur answered gravely. “You know as well as I do that there are still many of them here upon this world.”

“That’s true…” the Dreigiau poked his finger in the air repeatedly. “That’s very, very true. In fact, if I remember correctly, the Spiral is one of the areas known for housing strange phenomenon. Like giant golden lions that came from the Time Before.”

The Watcher frowned all the more, “Yes. However, the pocket of energy that once sustained me was drying up. By now, it is probably nonexistent.”

“Where there is one pocket, maybe there are more nearby,” Lord Zemi debated.

“Perhaps, but do we have time to entertain notions without facts to back them up?” Aur asked.

Before the Arweinydd could answer, Kudako interjected, “It is not just a notion.”

“Hrm?”

The Dragon warrior pursed his lips stoically. Then he continued, “There were old stories when I was young… about the energies deep within the earth that powered the Spiral. Stories about why our home was founded here, of all places. Why the trees have taken such an unusual coloration. So many other stories that point to unnatural causes within these lands. But these are things that only the Clan Leaders of old really knew about and could confirm.”

“Which means?” Lord Zemi asked, leaning forward in anticipation.

“That I do not believe anyone here and now knows these old secrets anymore. The Clan Leaders were killed off when the Arms Master took control of the Spiral,” Kudako’s voice was low and grave.

“Perhaps… not… all of them,” Aur answered unexpectedly.

All eyes turned questioningly towards the golden eyed Watcher.