“I won’t come with you. I won’t be your tool,” Lucci snarled. “If you and I are to meet, it will be for me to destroy you!”

Lucci found himself standing over the yawning mouth of the Dragon’s Cleft. He had never been to the Cleft before – only seen the deep squiggly line running in a dark crevice dividing the Inner Realms from the Outterlands on some of Master ZenToYa’s old maps. The maps that Master TsuYa would never let him touch, despite his great interest.

However, he knew that this had to be the Cleft. He had heard too many stories of the great divide that Lord Zemi had created long, long ago to protect the North Clans from the encroaching destroyers that sought to hunt them down to the smallest child.

I wonder what happened to make them fight so terribly.

Lucci’s feet carried him over the soft yellow-green grasses of the Spiral lands. He was on the Outterland side, looking back into the shadows that would have taken him home. Back to Nefol. To the place that he had been born but did not remember seeing. To the place where Zeromus was waiting… and his dark blade would fulfill its final meaning.

Suzume said that my last dream was probably of a place inside of Nefol.

The young Sygnus shivered a bit. Every time he thought of the dark dream, it frightened him. He had had visions within the Mists before. But this dream had felt so real. And the memory of Master TsuYa’s twisted image haunted Lucci with the guilt of the things he had not done to save his once-teacher.

Master TsuYa was gruff… but he went against his father’s wishes to help train me. And as much as he loves Master ZenToYa, that meant a lot. I realize that now.

Lucci still didn’t understand why Master TsuYa chose to do what he did. When so many others denied the young Sygnus training, thinking that he would one day become too dangerous, the dark-eyed warrior had taken up the call.

I’ll probably never know now.

The young Sygnus grimaced to himself.

I can’t think like that. I have to believe that we can bring him back somehow.

One fist balled at his side, he gave a curt nod. Then he began picking his way down the side of a steep hillside. Slipping and sliding, Lucci landed in a patch of speckled flowers. Grass and blooms waved back and forth in the soft breezes, having a luminous and unreal quality. Even the silver mists that usually followed him were dim.

It must be the effect of the Cleft. I heard that it had magical properties… and that’s part of what kept invaders from getting in. I wonder if it will be enough to keep Zerom from passing over.

There was no direct path to the Cleft’s Passage. Not that Lucci expected there would be. It was said that the Passage was the only place where one could cross over the Cleft. But that it would only respond to the powers of one of Lord Zemi’s servants. So only certain people could safely cross over.

Which means, I could be out of luck… unless something unusual happens.

And unusual things did seem to happen around the young Sygnus, whether he liked it or not.

Though I don’t even know if I can identify where the Passage is… even if I did see it. Maybe that’s something only Zemi’s people can do, too.

The young Sygnus sucked on his bottom lip, peering into the depths. The chasm looked like it stretched downwards for eternity.  A sickly colored fog churned within, growing thicker the closer to the center… until everything became obscured with cloud and darkness.

There was no sign of a bridge or any sort of Passage that he could make out.

This isn’t going to work. Is it?

Lucci gave a disgruntled frown, his fingers brushing over the hilt of the long, dark-bladed sword on his back. Feeling it there made him stop… he hadn’t remembered bringing the weapon. In fact… he really hadn’t remembered making the trip that would have carried him there, all the way to the Cleft.

How far did he travel?

How long had it taken?

Did anyone know he was gone?

Does it matter… if I told them what I wanted to do, they would just try to stop me.

The grip of the blade felt good in his hand. Reassuring. The longer that he had possession of it, the more comforting its presence had become… until lately, he found it more and more difficult to leave behind in the corner of his guest room.

I wonder why I was afraid of it to begin with. Nothing bad has come from it.

It seemed like so long ago… the day he had climbed the dark stairs of the obelisk, unknowing what he would find at the top. And now, armed with the sword he found there, he stood on the edge of the Inner Realms, seeking a way to return and overthrow the Chaos that had devoured his homelands.

If I can just find a way across.

His breath misted out in soft clouds, alerting him to how cold it had become as he approached the Cleft. The sound of hissing was sharp in his ears, something he took to be his shivering breathing. It was only when sound shifted that he realized it was not.

-Luuushhhhiii….-

His silver eyes narrowed, prickles running over his skin. He peered out into the rising fog with a frown.

Now I’m just hearing things.

The young Sygnus rubbed his hands together to warm then and continued walking the length of the Cleft. When the sound came again, he realized it was not his imagination.

-Luuuushhhhi… I will find you.-

“What?” Lucci spun around, staring into the gaping darkness again. There was a pressure unfolding within the fog somewhere in the Cleft ahead of him, a feeling he hadn’t sensed before. “Who’s there?”

-I will bring you home.-

“Home? What are you talking about?” his frown grew sharper.

-And all will be as it should have been. You and I. Father and son.-

“No!” Lucci stumbled back with widened eyes. “Forget it! I don’t want to come with you!”

-Such harsh, harsh words, my child.-

“You are no father to me!”

-Oh… but I am. No matter what the Dreigiau wants to tell you. There are some things you cannot change by will alone.-

The young Sygnus’ hand gripped the hilt of his blade, glaring sharply. He could see it now. The darkness was gathering and slowly, slowly consuming the shifting fog. Blotting it out with a shadow darker than the deepest night.

“I won’t come with you. I won’t be your tool,” Lucci snarled. “If you and I are to meet, it will be for me to destroy you!”

-We shall see, child.-

The tone was so condescending. Dripping with so much arrogance. As much as Lucci wanted to fight back the anger, he found the slender dark blade drawn.

You think I can’t do it. You try to convince me that I’m something special. Yet you’re really no different than the people in Ceiswyr. You look down upon me, too.

Tendrils of shadow erupted through the cloud of fog, bursting through with a force that rocked the earth. Lucci fought to keep his balance, but ended up sprawled upon the ground. His silver eyes widened as stream after stream of shadow shot from the center of the Cleft, breaking down the barriers that had existed there for so long. Opening the way for the darkness to come through.

“No!” Lucci’s shout was hoarse in his ears as he scrambled to his feet. Hands numb with cold, he fumbled to lift his blade again. He saw the tip of it shaking with overwhelming fear.

-We shall test your courage soon.-

“We…?”

That’s when he saw it. Shapes seething and shifting in the heart of the shadow. The scent of putrid rot and decay choked the air in his throat. Hisses and snarls, animalistic growls. And one long, terribly familiar shriek.

No! The Marked!

Lucci backed away, throwing one hand over his ears. But he was too horrified to gather his senses enough to run. He knew that even he could not take on all of Zeromus’ dark army… and senses alone told him, that it was nearly the entire army there crossing the Cleft.

But how..? Only one of Zemi’s…

The fog began to part and vision cleared. Lucci nearly fell over himself stumbling back. His eyes locked on the figure at the head of the army, far larger than the rest of the Marked. The black eyes. Grey skin. Dark hair and wings. Wicked, black bladed scythe. The streak of startling white that gleamed almost maliciously now.

Master TsuYa…

And he realized.

Zeromus is using Master TsuYa to unlock the Passage! Maybe because he Awakened before becoming Marked… it still reacts to Master TsuYa’s energies!

The dead, black eyes fell upon the young Sygnus. This time there were no words for him. There was nothing behind the gaze that felt like Master TsuYa at all. The lips curled back, cracking and caked with black blood. Black wings unfolded, sending the last traces of fog scattering away. And the blade lifted, too dark to reflect the dim light.

Lucci screamed, lifting his own dark blade in defense. Just as the scythe sparked off of the flat of his sword, the world jolted around him. Reeling backwards in pain and terror, he was falling.

Then, with a gasp, he sat up. Staring around, Lucci found himself splayed out on the floor next to his bed, his sheets tangled around his arms and legs. As if he had just struggled in a great, imaginary battle.

Lucci wiped the sweat from his face with shaky hands, staring around in disorientation. It took a few minutes before he calmed his breath and realized where he was.

Another dream?

He unwrapped the sheets and tossed them in a wad on the bed. Then he stumbled over to the wash basin and splashed his face with the cooling water.

Or was it? Everything seemed so real. Again.

When he looked outside, the world was just on the fringe of twilight. Gold stone reflected the hues of the overstretching sky. The twinkle of early rising stars shimmered down from above. A random Spiral warrior patrolled the streets, keeping watch over the houses as the light slipped away. All seemed quiet and at peace.

Yet, the unease grew more and more difficult to bear the longer Lucci stood and looked.

It could be possible.

His hands tightened on the window sill.

The Cleft is far enough away that we wouldn’t know it. Not unless there are Spiral guards there.

Lucci’s scowl grew sharper.

But with a full army of Marked… what guard is going to live to make it back to call an alarm?

The young Sygnus turned, hand reaching out for the grip of the dark blade. Then he stopped.

But what if it is just a dream? This hasn’t been the first one… it could be that Zeromus is sending nightmares to scare me. Suzume said a similar thing happened to Master TsuYa.

His fingers hovered over the dark glittering blade in uncertainty.

If I run out to call a false alarm, what will they think of me? That the curse of the Bane is taking control? That I’m losing my mind… like the Sygni do?

Troubled, Lucci shook his head.

And if it is real… if there is an army of Marked coming through the Cleft, led by Master TsuYa. If I know about this attack and I don’t tell… If people die because I don’t call an alarm…

Gritting his teeth, he snatched up the grip of the blade in his hand. It took a moment to strap the wide leather lash over his shoulder and keep it out of the tangle of his long silver hair.

I can’t let that happen. It’s better to call a false alarm than to let people get hurt. No matter what people think of me for it.

Rushing out of his chambers, the young Sygnus began to search the quiet streets. He had heard that Lord Zemi and the others would be going into the Lion’s Keep. He wasn’t sure what it was they were looking for, but it seemed important. As did the fact that a new leader for the Spiral had just been named.

Lucci could still see the remnants of the celebration that had taken place that afternoon in honor of ShinRe. Though the Spiral people weren’t much in the way of party-goers, there were some things that they apparently felt were important enough to commemorate. There had been food and some music and a little dancing. Mostly people gathering in the wide square, congratulating the new Leader.

But with the coming of night, most of the people had taken their celebration home with them. Such was the way of the people of the Spiral.

If everyone’s gone… who can I talk to?

Lucci cast about from house to house, looking for a familiar face. A guide. Anyone who might believe his story and not look down on him for telling it.

As searched, he passed the foot of the stairs at the Lion’s Keep. From somewhere above, he heard a soft, familiar voice. A voice he had grown to trust as a child. And one that he knew would not turn him away.

Aunt Sara!

Quickly, the young Sygnus turned to race up the steps.

“You have always been someone very special to me,” SaRa plunged forward, trying to keep her voice level.

“How does it feel to be coming back to your homelands?” SaRa asked, linking her arm around Kudako’s arm.

She never knew how he felt about the interaction… but she had done so since she could remember. And he had never pulled away from her. She always marveled at the feeling of the raw strength under her touch. It made her feel safe and protected, though she rarely had a chance to spend time in the Dragon’s protection anymore.

“It is strange,” Kudako answered with the charming sort of honesty he had. At least, she thought it was charming. It was even more charming that he didn’t even realize it.

He leaned forward, both palms planted on the stone railing that ran along the edge of the platform at the top of the stairs of Lion’s Keep. His golden eyes were sharp as they surveyed the Spiral lands stretching in every direction. His lips were pinched, a sign of some sort of emotion – though one he could not figure out for himself.

“Does it make you sad?” SaRa asked him.

Questions, she found, were the key to guiding conversation with the Dragon. He was quiet, often, because he lacked thoughts on what was best to say next.

“Sad… I’m not sure it’s sadness,” he told her. “I have never missed this place since I chose to leave it and come into the service of Lord Zemi. But that does not mean I wish ill on the Spiral or the people. I simply do not feel as if…”

“As if…?” she tilted her head, encouraging.

“Perhaps I don’t feel as if this is so much a place to call home, despite the technicality of being born in this land,” the Dragon finished. He dipped his head, wild hair falling into his face. His ears twitched at the tips as if reconsidering what he just said. “Is that a bad thing to feel?”

“No,” SaRa told him, hugging his arm tighter. “Not with all the bad memories that you have here… and all the bad things that some people have done to you.”

“Bad things sometimes happen,” Kudako told her gently. “Holding on to them gives them power over your life. I choose not to let them have that power.”

“That’s why you’re strong,” she said aloud, not realizing she had spoken the words until he responded.

“Hrm?”

“I mean…” SaRa straightened a bit, trying to cover her sudden awkwardness. “You’re a strong warrior. One of Zemi’s best. You always have been.”

Kudako looked at her with an arched eyebrow.

“Anyone who could knock some sense into Zento had to be?” she added quickly. This seemed to work.

“Well… Zento was certainly not who I expected to find when Lord Zemi sent me to train a warrior at the Host Gate,” the Dragon smiled just a hint, a look of memory in his eyes.

“No… I guess neither of us was exactly what you were hoping for,” SaRa answered quietly. She leaned her cheek against his arm, just as she had done ever since she was a young girl. And she felt the giddy flutters in her chest as she did… even if she was getting too old for girlish fluttering.

“It wasn’t at first. But of all places I have been to in my time, that was the one place that was most like home to me,” Kudako told her.

She turned and peered up with a surprised look. It was always unusual to hear the Dragon speak sentimentally.

She must have looked so surprised that that he felt he had to add more, “You asked about home?”

“Yes, I did,” SaRa nodded slowly. “So… you were happy there?”

“I learned what it meant to be happy there,” Kudako answered. He paused for a moment, lips pursed together before speaking again. “You may argue, but I feel that you and Zento taught me more about how to live than I could have ever taught either of you.”

SaRa smiled softly. “Kudako… that was a beautiful thing to say, you know?”

“Was it?” he asked, seeming a little puzzled.

“Yes. Even more so because I know that if you said it, then you meant it.”

“Always.”

There were some things in life that one couldn’t always count on. Things were always changing, often not for the better, she knew. But Kudako was one of those things that never changed, not at the core of his being. Time had helped him to learn to feel and appreciate life in different ways. But time and trouble did not take away his steadfastness, no matter the situation that he faced.

And now… they faced the most difficult of any situation. With battles and darkness and the fall of their homelands. The fear of Zerom’s Chaos… the loss of TsuYa. So many terrible, terrible things.

Yet, Kudako stood resolute. And SaRa knew, as she had known for so long, that she had more than just admiration for his strength. But she didn’t know if he realized this.

“Kudako,” she began, hesitating. She could hear the shift in her own voice. The hint that something important and dangerous was about to be said.

But she couldn’t help it. Battle after battle, the Dragon went out to fight. Anyone could be his last. He would be lost and she would never have told him.

Kudako turned, fin-ears perked in her direction. His golden eyes gazed down at her with the calm, stoic expression that he always had. All the while, she fought to keep him from feeling the way her heart had begun to beat, almost out of her chest.

Dragons, she knew, could sense things like that.

“You have always been someone very special to me,” SaRa plunged forward, trying to keep her voice level. And failing to sound any better than a silly grade-school child.

“You are someone who is very special to me, too,” Kudako answered.

It was so hard. It was so hard to tell how he was responding. If he was responding at all, or if he was just reading and imitating her cues. Even after all these years, she didn’t know if he had any feelings for her beyond his duty of chivalrous protection.

“No, Kudako…” SaRa forced her voice into firmness. Then she reached out and pulled his hands up with both of her own, forcing him to turn and look her in the eye. “I mean that you are someone very special to me.”

For a long moment, he just stared down at her, at a loss as to how to respond. She held her breath… she was accustomed to the Dragon’s silence. But this was a silence of a different sort.

When he finally answered, there was a strange glimmer in the depths of his golden eyes. “Yes. And you are someone very special to me, too.”

SaRa’s eyes widened, breath whooshing in a gasp. She didn’t realize her hands were shaking until he steadied them in his solid grasp.

“Then… why..?” she began to ask, not really knowing what it was she meant to say.

Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why do we pretend it doesn’t exist? Why don’t we do something about it? It could have been one of many, many “whys.”

Kudako simply lowered his head, answering without the question to guide him, “Because I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Hurt?” she asked.

“Because I am what I am. A warrior whose first duty is to fight at the orders of Lord Zemi Dreigiau. I am only here because I was given the chance to serve,” the Dragon told her. “My duty is important to me. And because I am a warrior, I don’t know if I would ever be proper and good enough for you.”

“Kudako…” her voice sounded slightly broken. “I have known you since I was very young. I understand your dedication to your duty — I have always respected it. And I have always been willing to accept that part of who you are… if you were ever to allow me to be… a part of your life.”

He watched her for a long moment, weighing the importance of his answer, “Things are dangerous right now. There will be a lot of fighting coming up. But I will have to think upon it… once things become quiet again.”

SaRa straightened, green eyes reflecting up at him, “Does that mean that you’re willing to give things a shot… once we get all of this sorted out?”

“It is… a strong possibility,” he told her.

She swallowed, knowing that those words, while not a “yes,” were the best that she could hear from him right now. And they certainly were not a “no.” Her face must have been flushed at that point because Kudako reached down and touched her cheek lightly.

“I’m happy then,” SaRa smiled for him, laying her cheek against his palm.

He gave a faint smile in return. A smile that, for once, touched his eyes.

They stood together for a long time in complete silence. The world around them passed from day into the twilight, the sky spreading color for them in a quiet celebration. Quiet was the way it always was between them… and perhaps, even unspoken, things had always been.

But SaRa couldn’t have been happier than she was then. Sharing the time with Kudako, as they used to when they were both younger. Before there was a Nefol… before Zento had taken up the robes of the High Guide. When things were far simpler and the world breathed in peace.

It was theirs again, for that moment.

Until the world called them back from their shared serenity.

“Aunt SaRa! Aunt SaRa… I need to talk to you!”

The winged woman took a short step away from Kudako, turning to see who was calling her name. Concern marred her features as she called back, “Lucci? What’s wrong?”

The young Sygnus raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time. His silver eyes were wide with the hint of panic. His breath heaved in shivers as he stopped to stand before them. It was the first time Aunt SaRa realized how tall he had become.

“Aunt SaRa…” he choked out her name again. “I had a dream…”

“A dream?” she echoed, taking a few steps towards him. She reached up and pulled him down, cupping his fevered face in both hands. His skin was clammy and sickly feeling. “What kind of dream, Lucci?”

She had seen this all before. Back when TsuYa was suffering from terrible nightmares of Nefol. Nightmares that became all too real, leaving him injured upon awakening… and eventually leading to his capture by the Chaotic forces of Zerom.

Dreams were serious things to her. And the thought that Lucci was having them now, too, was absolutely terrifying.

“Don’t get mad at me,” the young Sygnus began, face pleading. He was just as afraid.

“No… of course not. I want to hear. And I won’t get angry,” SaRa stroked the boy’s hair out of his eyes.

Lucci swallowed a few times, his throat working as he began to describe the images in his dream. The Marked armies of Zerom, coming across the Passage. How they were following TsuYa, the new Marked Champion. And how Lucci believed that Zerom was using TsuYa’s previous connection to Zemi to activate the Passage to get them across.

When he finally finished describing it all, it was hard for them all to breathe.

“I don’t know if it’s real or not, Aunt SaRa,” Lucci warned, looking concerned. “I don’t want to call a false alarm. But if it is real…”

“You did the right thing,” Kudako grunted.

“You mean… you believe me?” the young Sygnus looked up, questioningly.

But the Dragon didn’t explain. He had already reached for his staff and was making his way across the platform.

“What are you going to do?” SaRa called after him.

“I’m going to talk to ShinRe. And I’m going to start gathering the Spiral warriors together to brace for an attack. We’ll scout. But I want us to be mobilized. There’s no need to take any chances,” Kudako answered gruffly.

“Please… be careful,” she said.

The Dragon peered at her with a silent nod. Then he turned and rushed off, vanishing into the colors of twilight.

“Marked…” the words passed through his lips, a voice almost not his own. “There are hundreds of them.”

“Please, Master Kudako, let me come with you,” Lucci begged, dogging the Dragon’s steps as he strode up and down the line of Spiral warriors that had been assembled.

Master Kudako didn’t reply. In fact, he didn’t let it show if he had heard the young Sygnus’ request at all. He simply pulled the leather of his gauntlet tighter on his wrist. It was the first time that Lucci had seen the Dragon dress in a full set of armor.

“Master Kudako… I saw what might be out there. This was my dream. And I’m not afraid to face it,” he continued, spreading both of his hands in a plea. “Master TsuYa might be out there. There might be something we can do to–”

“If anything should happen to you under my watch, I’d have all sorts of people down on me,” Master Kudako finally answered, pausing in mid-step.

Lucci froze, a little stunned by the revelation. “They would… care… if something happened to me?”

“Of course they would,” the Dragon told him, gold eyes peering back over one shoulder. “You have friends and near-family… people who have raised you. Don’t let the know-nothings and the nay-sayers color the truth of those who do love you.”

They young Sygnus looked down, half shameful. It was true, his focus was always on who didn’t like him. Who didn’t trust him. Who thought he was nothing more than a child. Or just the Bane-to-come.

But if someone like Master Kudako says it’s so… then it must be.

When Lucci lifted his head again, his words were determined, “And I love them, too. That’s why I want to fight to protect them.”

“Hm.”

One hand reached back and drew just a gleam of the dark blade from over one shoulder, “I can fight, Master Kudako. Let me prove it to you. Let me prove it to everyone. It’s what Master TsuYa would have wanted me to do.”

The Dragon’s lips were pressed into a firm line of silence. But the warrior in him couldn’t deny the honor of another. “Very well. But you are to remain close to me at all times. And if things turn bad, you will follow my orders, no matter what they may be. Is that understood?”

Lucci nodded vehemently. Something inside of him was both afraid and excited.

Here’s my chance! Now I can show them all what I can really do. Then maybe they will trust me.

But Master Kudako was having none of it. His gruff voice snapped quickly, “Fall in.”

Lucci straightened, giving the Dragon a puzzled look. “Fall in what?”

“Fall in line,” Master Kudako gave a slight sigh and pointed to a spot in the ranks next to one of the Spiral Warriors.

“Oh!” the young Sygnus back-pedaled, moving to stand with the other soldiers.

Their blue eyes gave him strange sidelong looks — the one spot of silver in a sea of golden warriors. A boy among men. Lucci offered them bright, friendly smiles, trying to break the ice. When he got no response, he quickly learned to mind his own business and imitate the stiff posture of the men around him.

This… might not be so much fun afterall. Everyone here is so serious.

After what seemed an unnecessary eternity of waiting, Master Kudako finally strode back up to the front of the ranks. His gold eyes were sharp, studying each man in turn as he spoke quietly, “We may be going to face a great evil today. But our mission is to scout and bring warning. Not to fight. Light be with us that we find nothing to bring warning about. Now let’s move out.”

Instantly, the Spiral warriors swept forward like a wave of deadly gold and steel. There was no sound. Nothing but pure, precise motion. And Lucci was hard pressed to keep up.

At Master Kudako’s back, they navigated the forest land. The pace was grueling in speed, though never a once did it seem like any of the men were running. Or even jogging. And though Lucci was taller by most of the men there by head and shoulders, his long legs almost served to make him more awkward and clumsy than helping him to stay in rank.

How can they move so fast with so little effort?

By the time he was out of breath, none of the Spiral warriors had even seemed to break a sweat. Something about the way they moved was almost frightening. Almost mechanical. And Lucci knew that if these men were to meet with the dead-minded Marked, it would be a terrible fight to behold.

Master Kudako knew exactly where to go. Where Lucci could only guess at the location of the Passage through the Cleft, the warrior had cut a straight shot through forest and hills and streams. He moved with the grace of the Dragon, even more effortless than the warriors around him, if that was possible.

I wonder how far it really is from the Spiral to the Cleft…

Ahead of them, the horizon was dark and heavy. But it wasn’t the sort of darkness that was ordinary to the oncoming night. Something about it filled Lucci’s heart with a sense of dread. A dull pressure grew in the back of his mind… and before he could think about it, the ground around them was heavy with silver mists that clung to their feet, awaiting his command.

No… I can’t do this here! I want to fight on my own. I don’t want to rely on the spirits to fight for me.

If the rest of the warriors felt uneasy about the mounting shadows ahead, they did not show it. In fact, they did not show anything. They swept forward without hesitation, straight into the heart of the waiting Chaos.

They heard the screeches of the Marked before they saw them. The terrible, piercing sound of a soulless body, mangled with the hatred of destruction. Lucci threw his hands up over his ears, knowing that just like in the past, nothing could shut the pain of the sound out of his mind.

But the Spiral warriors drove forward, unaffected. Their only reaction was to draw their weapons, growing ready for the battle to come.

“We must scout,” Master Kudako reminded them. “Fight to defend yourselves, only if you must. We must bring word back to the Spiral of what it is that we are facing. Remember!”

Obedient, the ranks slowed to a crouch, inching forwards through the thick brush to try and get a glimpse of what they would be up against. Clumsily, Lucci imitated their motions, carefully parting the leaves of the nearest bush to try and get a look. But it wasn’t necessary.

The creeping Mists told him all that he needed to know, unexpectedly acting as his eyes and ears.

“Marked…” the words passed through his lips, a voice almost not his own. “There are hundreds of them.”

Master Kudako lifted a hand to stop the advance, turning with a slow frown towards the young Sygnus.

“Zerom took not just the people… but the animals,” he continued somberly. “And there are about ten or so Esgyll out there as well.”

“I see… we will need some Dragons to back us up, then,” Master Kudako’s face grew grim.  “What do they appear to be doing?”

“Waiting,” Lucci answered. “There is something strange about the way they are acting. It’s not the same as the way the Marked were before.”

“In what way?” the Dragon asked.

The young Sygnus frowned, trying to figure it out, “I don’t know. Like they have some sense of organization. They’re not just roaming around and–”

-Lucci-boy! Watch your side!- Kaz’s familiar voice rang in his mind.

He was able to give a moment of warning before the shrieks rang out, “They’ve sensed us!”

The forest burst upon them in a torrent of decayed bodies, lashing fangs and claws. Animal growls and screeches echoed through the air. But there was no sound of the men’s screaming in return. No scream but Lucci’s own.

As the young Sygnus stumbled back, he saw the swelling wave of golden Spiral warriors rise up to meet the onslaught of the Marked. Where normal men would have buckled under the fear aura or trembled under the force of the mind-rending shrieks, the warriors pressed forward without a flinch or hint of alarm. They cut through the Marked with fluid flashing blades, splattering the forest in the black blood of their enemies.

But something was different about the Marked, too. The Marked that Lucci remembered had fought in a fever of feral frenzy, a rushing kamikaze with no fear or mind for their own wellbeing. And though there was no fear of death still, there was a sense of intelligence that had not been there before. Even the idea of this ambush was unlike anything that the Marked had the resources to do in the past.

This is dangerous…

They were using rudimentary tactics. Joining in numbers to take down stragglers. Focusing attacks and pulling back when taking too much in the way of damage or becoming outnumbered. Slowly, they were driving the Spiral warriors further and further into the forest, away from the main encampment.

They’re fighting with a warrior’s sense. Maybe now that Master TsuYa is leading them…

And for some reason, none of them were interested in fighting Lucci.

They must know who I am… maybe Zerom told them to capture me without hurting me.

The young Sygnus drew his blade with bared teeth.

I don’t know… but it’s not going to work. I’m going to find Master TsuYa.

Just as he moved forward, a tight grip took his shoulder from behind. Lucci spun around to meet the intense gaze of Master Kudako.

“We are not here to take on the entire Marked army. We must fall back to the Spiral. We must warn them,” the Dragon ordered, ears folding back to accent the scowl on his face.

“But Master TsuYa could be right–”

“You are not going to save TsuYa if you end up getting yourself killed. Now follow my orders and fall back!” Master Kudako snarled, his grip tightening a little.

Lucci’s mouth fell open in mute shock. It was rare to see so much emotion come from the Dragon. And everything in him did not want to tangle with the power of that gaze.

Just then, Kaz’s voice sounded in his mind again, sharp with warning, -Lucci. A group of them are breaking away!-

“What?” Lucci answered out loud, forgetting about his current company.

-The main part of their force appears to be moving towards the Spiral. I don’t know if they were waiting for you to come out here before they did… but whatever they’re doing right now, can’t be good!-

The young Sygnus’ chin jerked up, staring straight at Master Kudako, “The Marked are moving for the Spiral!”

“Are you certain?” Master Kudako bared his fangs.

-Yes!-

“Yes!” Lucci echoed.

For some reason, the Dragon did not question his information further, “Then this ambush is a diversion. All men, full retreat! We make for the Spiral, post haste!”

Lucci wasn’t given time to object. Master Kudako pulled him along for the first few yards before the Dragon broke out into a full run. Spiral warriors flanked him on either side, keeping him safe within the middle of the formation. Lucci didn’t know if they had been ordered to protect him or if it just happened that way.

Unrelenting, the Marked chased them, bounding and lashing after the retreating men from all sides. Their shrieks were deafening, the scent of decay overwhelming. The Spiral blades would flash every now and then, painting the forest floor black as they struck. The warriors rarely missed their target.

Every now and again, the Marked would catch the heels of one of the running men, slashing at them. One of the warriors fell just to Lucci’s left. There was no expression on his face. No scream as the swarm of darkness leapt on him with tearing fangs and claws. The young Sygnus turned his head, choking.

No… no…

Lucci felt exhaustion rising. His breath burned his throat as he fought to gasp. His legs ached with the effort of speed. But to stop would to mean death – if not for himself, then for the Spiral warriors that would certainly turn to defend him. And maybe for the people who waited for their warnings in the Spiral city not that far ahead.

Must… keep… running.

Dismay filled him as his silver eyes lifted to the horizon. The Marked had moved in fast, propelled by the forces of their Esgyll. Shadows darker than night rose up over the glimmering golden city and the Lion’s Keep.

Zerom’s Marked army had invaded the Spiral.

Aunt SaRa’s head lifted and the winged woman pushed herself to her feet. Even across the shadow and the distance, JouKa could see her face clearly.

“How have you been holding up, dear?” Aunt SaRa asked, gently stroking her fingers through JouKa’s hair.

“As well as I can,” the girl answered quietly. Though JouKa appreciated the concern from everyone around her, she just didn’t feel like explaining the extent of how she felt. She doubted words could describe the emotion.

To one side, Suzume sat quietly braiding her hair. Somewhere between the time when JouKa had first met the child and now, the girl’s fingers had become far more adept. No longer did she tie her long black locks in knots. Now she could make a proper braid for herself… which made her look quite pretty.

I remember when…

Watching Suzume braid sparked a tinge of sadness. There were days that she had spent, sitting on the flowering hillsides of Ceiswyr with the dark-haired girl and TsuYa for her companions. Back then, she had been short tempered and bold. She had challenged everything that the Neffie TsuYa had to say just for the sake of a fight. She even had the gall to slap him a few times for something as simple as his own sharp words.

What I would do to take it all back…

How foolish it seemed now. Now that he wasn’t there anymore.

And despite the fact that JouKa knew TsuYa killed KoGuRai, she still couldn’t bring herself to hate him. Because something in the way that he had fought that last battle just wasn’t himself. He had been driven to murder. Driven by the same dark power that had transformed and taken him away.

And her grief was for both of them.

“What’s on your mind, dear?” Aunt SaRa interrupted, as if she knew exactly what the girl was thinking about.

“Nothin’…” JouKa turned to peer out the window of her room into the darkening night.

Then much to her surprise, Aunt SaRa totally changed the subject, “So what do you think of this Oren fellow? He seems to be quite taken with you.”

JouKa’s face flushed a little. She shook her head to cover it up. “What do I think? I don’t think nothin’ about ‘im.”

It’s too soon to be thinkin’ anything about anyone.

“That’s a shame. He’s a good looker,” the woman said with a slight smile, gathering up JouKa’s hair again.

“He’s… different,” she admitted, giving in just a little bit. But only because she thought it was fair to humor the woman’s attempts.

“And look… your hair is growing out so nice and pretty,” Aunt SaRa told her. “Have you ever worn it long, JouKa?”

“Long time ago. Before I left my gathering,” the girl said.

I really ‘aven’t worried about bein’ pretty since then…

“Ah… well it looks good on you,” the woman clucked her tongue. “I’m sure Mr. Oren would think so, too.”

JouKa gave an exasperated sound, “Aunt SaRaaaa!”

This only set the winged woman to laughing softly. And in spite of herself and everything else, JouKa couldn’t help but laugh a little, too. Suzume joined them, laughing with a little girl smile, despite the fact that she probably didn’t even understand what the women were laughing about.

They had hardly finished catching their breath when the sound of an alarm rang out through the streets of the Spiral.

“What’s that?” Suzume asked, getting to her feet. The girl rushed to the window with wide, dark eyes trying to make out what was happening in the night shadows.

All the mirth had left Aunt SaRa’s face, replaced by a frown of concern. She quickly reached over and took the dark-haired girl by the wrist. “JouKa. Suzume. I think we need to go to the Lion’s Keep.”

She knows what’s ‘appening, doesn’t she?

“Aunt SaRa, what…” but JouKa’s words were interrupted by the sound of the repeating alarm.

The winged woman gave no answer. She just pulled them both by the hands, “Stay close to me. It could be dangerous. So we have to stay together.”

JouKa didn’t ask anything else. She simply nodded and followed Aunt SaRa out the door.

It was so hard to see what was happening. The night was heavy upon the city, heavier than night had a right to be. Darkness swelled thick in the streets, obscuring form, leaving vision with pure motion. JouKa could hear the sound of the Spiral people rousing to the alarm and rushing about. At first, she thought that they, too, were running for the safety of cover. But then she noticed that commoners – men and women both—had come from their homes carrying weapons of all shapes and sizes.

The people of the Spiral would not run. They were warriors, each of them, to the depths of their souls.

We should stay and ‘elp them!

JouKa wanted to protest. But the moment her feet slowed, Aunt SaRa would grab her by the wrist and keep her moving. There was an intensity in the winged woman’s eyes as she led them towards the rising form of the golden Lion’s Keep.

“Keep moving,” she told them both. “We must see if we can find Zemi and Zento.”

“Where ‘ave they gone?” JouKa shouted, rushing to keep the pace.

Suzume stumbled once, but Aunt SaRa was there instantly, helping the little girl along. She managed to half turn and answer at the same time, “I’m not really sure. I know it has something to do with the Lion’s Keep. So I believe that’s the best place for us to be headed.”

There was no time to agree or disagree. The earth shook as something huge and dark dropped out of the sky, landing heavy in the streets just a block over. The terrible snake-like head of the Esgyll rose up over the tops of the golden-stoned houses in a roar that rocked the city. JouKa stumbled as the stone under her feet jolted her, sending the three of them scattering. Dazed, all JouKa could hear was the muted cry of Suzume and the shouts of people fighting somewhere in the distance.

Slowly, she pushed herself up on her palms, skin raw from the scrape and fall. Aunt SaRa’s voice was above her, hands lifting her up and forcing her to keep moving.

“Come! Come! We can’t stop here!” the winged woman urged.

The roar of the Esgyll echoed in the streets again, as if to accent the words.

Gotta… keep my ‘ead clear. Can’t die ‘ere!

JouKa shook herself out, then helped to gather Suzume. Moving forward. Ever forward. Towards the great golden form of the overlooking Keep. In the sky above, she could make out the winging shadows of more of the terrible winged creatures. Pulses of flame and cold light marred the underside of the clouds – the Dragons had arrived.

Does that mean that Lord Zemi knows what’s goin’ on now? Are we saved?

A new sound echoed in the Spiral streets. Terrible screeching sounds. A sound that JouKa had heard before.

TsuYa!

She stopped to turn, on instinct alone. Dark shadows darted behind them, leaping on the Spiral people who had come out to battle. Wild cries and shouts. Screeches as the Marked moved with inhuman speed, almost unreal to watch.

But TsuYa was not there.

It must mean ‘e’s in the city somewhere, though!

“JouKa!” Aunt SaRa’s voice was strong. “We cannot stop. Not even for TsuYa.”

‘Ow did she know what I was thinkin…?

She had no time to ponder it. The echoes of shrieks and animal snarls were closer now, coming from one side, just in front. Aunt SaRa pulled them quickly around the corner, then up a set of narrow stone stairs that led them up to the second floor of the building.

Fire flickered and shot through the sky, lighting up the battles that raged in the streets below. People of the Spiral fearlessly defending their homelands, golden against the darkness, reflecting the flash of flame and light. The Marked darting and lashing with wicked claws and fangs, moving like elastic as they bounded in small groups off of walls, crates, fences, posts. Moving with a weightless speed of impossibility.

A great explosion shook the earth as a pillar of fire and destruction erupted from the city somewhere behind them. Flaming stone began to rain down on them from above, some catching into smaller fires as they landed in the streets.

“Ow! Owww!” Suzume cried as some of the hot stone scorched through her feathers.

Aunt SaRa drew the girl to her, covering her face and head with her own wings protectively. “Shhh…. Shhh… We can’t let them hear us, love. We’re almost there. Just a little further to go.”

With a fight like this… will the Lion’s Keep be any safer than the streets?

JouKa took the moment to catch her breath, watching as the Marked began to thin out in search of more prey. Motionless forms of the Spiral people lay, dotting the streets. People who had been trained to protect their families… but were not the perfect warriors like the men of the Spiral armies.

They ‘ave no chance against these monsters…

She didn’t know if anyone had a chance.

“Come, come,” Aunt SaRa took her attention away from the streets. “Don’t look at that. We must keep going.”

Despite her words, the winged woman’s voice was taut with fatigue. Still, she led them back down the stairs and into the streets again. All the way, she kept Suzume’s face covered, protecting the girl from the grisly visions that lay splattered around them.

JouKa couldn’t help but look as they passed one of the Spiral men, not too far way. She heard his groan, a contorted sound of pain. And the healer in her couldn’t help but want to stop.

‘E’s still alive!

As she stepped closer, she could sense that something was terribly wrong with him. The gashes across his face and chest had turned a sickly grey color. What appeared to be a cloud of shadow and decay hung over his body, arching up over him, sucking away light and life. His eyes turned toward her as they glazed over in a sheen of darkness, the pleading hand that reached towards her was mangled and claw like.

JouKa jumped back with a gasp. She had seen this before.

‘E’s turning Marked?!

Terrified, her green eyes shot across the bodies that littered the street. All of them were the same. Thick cloud of shadow and decay rising over them. Slight movement and struggle. Convulsions.

No! No! NO!

This time it was her turn to urge them forward. “We’ve got to run! Aunt SaRa! Those people are falling to Zerom’s Mark!”

Suzume gave a muffled cry. Aunt SaRa held the girl closer, eyes sharp. “Don’t stop. It’s not much further.”

That’s when the air around them exploded in a hurricane of flame and terror. JouKa screamed as she was thrown from the sudden impact, landing all the way on the other side of the street. Luckily, she found her wings tangled in the bushes and trees of the Spiral’s Square. Just at the foot of the Lion’s Keep. Not far away, she heard Suzume’s soft cry.

What ‘appened?’

The ground shook again, the square echoing with the sound of huge beasts in battle. Freeing herself, JouKa could see that one of the Dragons had been driven to the ground under the fierce strength of one of the black Esgyll. The black vicelike jaws were clamped hard upon the Dragon’s throat. And though the beast raked with claws and lashed with wings and tail, the roars became suffocated gurgles.

JouKa rushed over to the sound of Suzume’s cries, working to untangle the girl from the brush, “Suzume. We’re almost there! Let’s go!”

The Esgyll lifted its head, trumpeting in terrible triumph as the Dragon’s limp head hit the ground. When the girl turned to look, she realized with horror that a familiar winged figure lay only a few yards from the huge beast.

Aunt SaRa! No!

She was torn. Torn between moving forward and getting Suzume to safety. Or rushing back to help the winged woman.

Her indecision was answered as Aunt SaRa’s head lifted and the winged woman pushed herself to her feet. The sharp green eyes focused on the two of them. Even across the shadow and the distance, JouKa could see her face clearly.

“Go!”

The command was spoken with so much strength that the girl could do nothing but obey. As the Esgyll’s dark gaze fell upon Aunt SaRa, JouKa turned towards the steps of the Lion’s Keep. Her hand gripped Suzume’s smaller hand tightly.

They ran.

There was no sound behind them. Nothing but a brilliant flash of light that lit the golden square, blinding the terrible beast as it lit the way for their frantic flight. It was Aunt SaRa’s light — her final stand of strength, determination, will and pure love.

Then suddenly, the light was gone.

“Aunt SaRa!” Lucci cried, silver head bowed as he hugged her to his chest. “Don’t die! Don’t leave us!”

-Quickly, Lucci-boy! Quickly!- Kaz’s voice echoed in his mind.

We’re too late! The Marked are everywhere!

Lucci’s breath whistled through his nose, every inch of his body burning from the long run back to the Spiral. The moment they had entered the city, the Spiral warriors had scattered into smaller groups, rushing to cover as much of the city as they possibly could. In the middle of the confusion of battle, Lucci had gotten separated from the rest of the ranks.

-It’s not too late. There are people who need you here.-

“I know,” the young Sygnus answered quietly, his fist curled tightly around the grip of his dark blade. There was one person in particular that he needed to find – he had to make sure that Suzume was okay.

He slipped through the streets, hearing the echoes of battle in a distant part of the city. The Marked were hardly a threat to him – they avoided battle with him whenever he met them. So searching for Suzume wouldn’t be too difficult for him to do.

The city was on fire… there were no people left in the hollowed streets where he roamed. The shapes of Dragons and Esgyll tangled in streaks of light and shadow across the sky. Every now and then, the earth rumbled under his feet, groaning at the plight of its people against the spreading Chaos. He stepped over the ruins of fallen walls and toppled buildings.

Then as he turned the corner, Lucci came to a sharp stop.

Dead bodies were strewn down the street. Some of them were puddles of melting Marked. But most of them he could identify as people who lived in the Spiral. The commoners who would have fought to the death to defend their homes and families. A lump caught in Lucci’s throat. For the first time, he felt something deep and terrible at the sight of death.

Death…

His mind shifted quickly. Remembering. Where people died, there came the Mists. And the Mists were always drawn to him… their spirits, memories, very being. He was a creature created to harvest the souls of the fallen and grow more powerful from their grief and anguish.

It’s the kind of thing Zerom would want me to do.

Lucci backed a step away.

I won’t.

He backed another step away.

I won’t do this to them!

He had to get far away, he knew.

I don’t want to see this… I don’t want to know this! I don’t want to take them!

Lucci stumbled as he backed away, falling against the wall as his feet caught on something slick and heavy. Looking down, he could see the body of one of the fallen men laying there. It was only when the man gave a quiet groan that the young Sygnus realized that he was still alive.

How? How can that be? Marked don’t leave survivors.

To his surprise, he realized that he felt the sense of life within most of the unmoving in the streets. It was very faint. Very distant. As if they were hanging on to the mere edge of vitality.

They’re alive? I don’t understand!

That’s when he first noticed it. The shifting of Mists around the bodies as it came to claim their final breath. It glimmered then grew dark, shifting into a strange sort of shadow. Lucci’s skin began to prickle with an unexplained dread as he watched it creep over them.

This is… not natural…

The man closest to him uttered a long, broken moan. As his mouth opened, the gleam of cold fangs shown, followed by a gush of dark ooze erupting from his throat. It happened so fast – eyes glazing black, skin turning ashen grey, claws forming from fingers. The low growl bubbling into the piercing shriek of the Marked.

Within seconds, the man was no longer a man. The street that had once been dead had begun to rise again.

Zerom’s Chaos… he’s transforming them as they die!

Lucci spun on his heel, running back the way he came. His breath came in panicked gasps as he rushed back to find Kudako. The Spiral warriors. Anyone.

He doesn’t want to destroy the people here… he wants to harvest them for his own Marked army!

Despite the exhaustion that burned through his limbs, he forced himself to run. He didn’t know if his warnings would come in time. But he knew that if the Spiral warriors fought and died, they would be taken.

Just like Master TsuYa was.

Lucci raced through the narrow streets, breaking out into a full run as he entered the Spiral square. He didn’t know his way around the city very well, still. But he did know his way to the Lion’s Keep.

If people will be gathering somewhere, it will be there.

But before he had a chance to survey what kind of danger waited there, his vision was blinded by a brilliant white light. Lucci reeled back, covering his face with both hands, expecting the worst. Where there was light, there was usually flame. Or energy. Or magic of some sort.

When no pain came, the young Sygnus uncurled, daring to peek.

The huge form of an Esgyll stood not far from the steps that lead up to the Lion’s Keep. The terrible dark beast was shaking it head back and forth. To Lucci’s horror, there was something hanging from its mouth. It looked like a person.

“NO!” Lucci’s shout resounded sharply.

The Esgyll stopped at the sound of the command, dropping its prey. White feathers rained down across the square. And though her face was streaked with blood, Lucci could recognize the winged woman.

“Aunt SaRa!” his cry was hoarse as his hands tightened on the grip of his blade.

She wasn’t moving. The crimson-touched feathers alighted in the spreading pool of her blood.

Images flashed through his mind. Images of all the times that Aunt SaRa had been there for him. The fudge that she made. When she would bandage his cuts. Or help mend his clothes. The stories she would tell. And the songs she would sing to him at bedtime.

And now her blood-streaked face, marred with pain.

No! This can’t happen!

His body began to shake. A pounding force rose behind his ears. A searing heat burned through his veins. But hotter still were the runes that marked along his face. The black blade between his hands began to shiver. Awaken. Glow with a frightening silver sheen.

She can’t die!

And the Mists of his followers frothed and boiled around his feet.

-Anger!-

Screams and laments of those who had passed before echoed through his consciousness.

-Fury!-

His blade swept forward in a terrible command.

-Rage!-

The Mist billowed upward, releasing Them. The power of the tortured. The anguished. The lost. All focused as Lucci lunged at the great black beast with a wild war cry.

The weapon seemed to move of its own accord, slicing down through the thick trunk of dark neck, unhindered. Lucci didn’t even feel it as the blade went clean through. The Esgyll wavered for a silent moment before it toppled. The huge body crashed down in the center of the square as the head landed some distance away, at the foot of the wide Keep stairs.

It was only then that the pounding receded. The wailing in his mind dimmed, but did not vanish. They had deemed the beast’s death satisfactory… but Their suffering demanded more. More that Lucci would not give them.

“BE QUIET!” his hoarse voice commanded Them. His face was hot with tears that he had not realized had come. The flickering silver runes on his face stung where the streaks of his anguish ran.

Finally, They fell silent again.

The young Sygnus stumbled forward, gasping for air as he reached for the broken form of the winged woman. Sobs racked his body. His hands were sticky with her blood as he tried to lift her. It was only when he touched her that he felt the last flicker of her life still there.

“Aunt SaRa!” Lucci cried, silver head bowed as he hugged her to his chest. “Don’t die! Don’t leave us!”

Her eyes cracked open at the sound of his voice, soft and green. She struggled to smile. “Lucci… Be a good boy.”

“I will..!” he promised through the sting of hot tears. “Just don’t go…”

He could feel her body shudder in his arms as her head rolled limply to one side.

“NO!” he held her closer as if it might hold her there. Change something. Anything.

But all of his sobbing meant nothing. Not even the streaks of his tears on her face. Distantly, he could hear voices calling his name. A voice that sounded like Kaz…

-Pay attention!-

The young Sygnus wiped at his eyes, still clinging to the limp form of Aunt SaRa. That’s when he realized… there had been no light. No mist. And the shadows were starting to gather around them.

Zerom’s Chaos was coming for Aunt SaRa.

No! No… not this!

Lucci’s will was suddenly focused. Strong with determination. Anger. Desire to protect. He may not have been able to save Aunt SaRa’s life… but he wouldn’t let Zerom take her in death.

The shadows fought him, tendrils of Chaos reaching for her motionless form. The Mists rose up in response, lashing at it, driving it back. Fighting for time. The world around them filled with Mist, until it blotted out the darkness of the night. Swirling forms roved at the edge of his sight… the waking world twisted and shifted into the world of the Passed.

When Lucci looked up, he saw an image of Aunt SaRa standing over him. A shimmer vision of soft light. She was younger somehow, completely untouched by sorrow or pain. Her smile was warm as she reached out to touch his cheek, wiping away his tears.

He watched her, unable to find the words to say. His breath was caught in his throat. But he commanded. He commanded with every inch of power that was within him. And the Mists parted, creating a long silvery path that led to a single pulse of comforting light in the far distance.

Zerom will not take her.

Aunt SaRa nodded and turned, walking down the path.

And the Mists cannot have her.

Slowly, her image became more and more hazy. The world of the Passed and the world of the Waking began to blur and blend once more.

She will go Beyond… as she was meant to.

Then the vision faded. The light, the Mists, and Aunt Sara’s receding form were gone.

Lucci found himself kneeling upon the golden stone of the square.  Her body was limp and cold in his arms… but she had not been taken by the Marked. Grief still welled in his chest, but there was a peace there, too, knowing that she was safe.

The sound of the battle around them didn’t touch Lucci for a long time. Not until he heard the hoarse cry of a familiar voice.

“SARAAA!”

The young Sygnus lifted his head slowly, face still puffy from crying.

Master ZenToYa stood on the stairs to the Lion’s Keep, body taunt as he stared at the motionless form of his sister. Then he glared at Lucci… a smoldering anger rising in the depths of his eyes. “You!”

Master Kudako was there, too, holding the winged man back with a stern grip. His face was pale and unreadable. He, too, was staring at the winged woman’s form in open disbelief.

But Master ZenToYa was beyond explanation. Beyond understanding. Beyond rational thought. His voice lifted in terrible accusation, the very words slicing like hot razors, “You TOOK her, didn’t you?!”

Lucci’s own eyes widened, hands beginning to shake as he realized what he was being accused of. “NO! No, Master Zento! I would never do that!”

“You monster! Get away from my sister!” with a forceful jerk, the winged man broke away from the Dragon’s hold, bearing down on the young Sygnus.

Lucci reeled back as he was shoved forcefully away. He plead one last time, “I didn’t hurt her! I swear!”

But the winged man didn’t seem to hear. He fell to his knees and gathered up his sister in his arms. His wings curled around her as if to protect her from the evils of the world. Hunched over her body, he cried. Long, terrible heart-rending sobs, laced with the mangled sound of her name. Over and over again.

Master ZenToYa… I tried to protect her. Please… believe me…

Tears sprang in Lucci’s eyes as he watched his anguish. Tears of hurt that he would be blamed for the death of someone he loved just as dearly. Tears that froze into bitterness and fear… fear of what would happen if people believed he was really at fault for her death. That he would really do something so terrible as steal her spirit away.

I can’t stay here…

Before he realized what he was doing, Lucci had picked up the dark-bladed sword, racing away into the depths of the mournful night.

“AsaHiiii…” her name escaped his lips in a rasping hiss. It seemed difficult for him to speak.

“What’s going on?” AsaHi asked, holding tight to SoYa’s shoulder. She could hear the muted sounds in the world outside of the Lion’s Keep. “Something terrible has happened since we went down to the Stone Lair… hasn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” SoYa told her. He was listening, too, eyes narrowed and flicking around from one end of the Keep to the other. “But Zemi told us to stay in here. I think that’s what we should do.”

“But there can’t be a battle, can there?” she pressed. “We left Zerom and his forces on the other side of the Cleft!”

“I don’t know,” SoYa answered again, patiently. Then he pulled her closer to his chest, holding her for reassurance.

Every now and then, the ground would rumble. It was a terrible feeling, just sitting there and waiting. Not knowing if there was a battle, and if so, who was fighting. Or if Zemi might have needed her help. Chaos still lurked outside, no matter what new power and strength the strange blue stones had given him in the chamber below.

After a while, the door to the Keep opened. Both AsaHi and SoYa leaned forward, faces painted with expectation. But when they saw JouKa and Suzume stumbling inside, all they could do was puzzle all the more.

“JouKa?” AsaHi called with a questioning voice.

The moment that the girl glanced up, AsaHi was overwhelmed by the pure absolute grief in her eyes. She had never seen the tough winged girl cry… but JouKa was crying now.

“What’s wrong?” SoYa was on the job instantly, making his way over to them both.

Before anyone could say a word, both JouKa and Suzume had attached themselves to the Athrylith, sobbing.

“Whoa… whoa. Hold on. Tell me what’s happened!” he waved both hands in surprise. “Please… I can’t help you if I don’t know.”

But neither of them seemed to be in any condition to explain.

AsaHi eventually managed to detach Suzume from SoYa’s waist and pull her to the side. The little girl just curled up under AsaHi’s chin, holding on to her with two shaking hands.

“JouKa…” SoYa’s voice was soothing and calm. The flows of subtle mind magic began to shift through the room. “It’ll be alright.”

“No… no it won’t,” she answered.

“What is it?” he coaxed.

“The Marked… and the Esgyll… attacked…” JouKa hiccupped softly. “Aunt SaRa. She’s still out there…”

SoYa swallowed, peering over with a concerned look at AsaHi.

So we ARE under an attack.

“Don’t worry…” SoYa was assuring her, “Aunt SaRa is strong. She’ll be just fine.”

JouKa’s voice wavered, “I don’t think so… not this time…”

Before SoYa could reply, there was a sound at the door again. Thinking someone was coming in, he got to his feet, lips pursed slightly. But after a time, the doors did not open, though the sound on the other side remained.

“Oh no…” JouKa whispered hoarsely, grabbing a hold of SoYa’s shoulder. “They’ve found us. They know we’re in here!”

At the tone of panic, Suzume gave a muffled little-girl cry. The sound carried and echoed in the Keep before AsaHi could cover her mouth. Suddenly, what had once been shuffling on the other side of the door became mauling, scraping, raking and banging. Animal like growls and hisses rose to her ears… the sound AsaHi knew as the Marked.

SoYa’s face paled as he took slow steps away from the door. The wood groaned and rattled on it hinges. Then suddenly burst inward as oozing black claws erupted through from the other side.

“What do we do?” JouKa held tight to SoYa’s tunic, shaking him. “This place is a dead end!”

“No… it’s not,” AsaHi glanced over quickly. Back towards the passage down to the Stone Lair.

“That’s right!” SoYa shook himself out, ushering JouKa back towards the doorway. Reaching up, he grabbed the nearest torch. “Let’s go!”

“Come this way, Suzume,” AsaHi took the little girl’s hand, leading her forward.

“But it’s dark down there!” she protested, face pinched with fear.

“It’ll be alright, I promise you.”

Without waiting for a reply, AsaHi plunged into the steep narrow passage that lead deep underneath the Lion’s Keep. There was hardly enough light for her to see by. The steps were slippery and damp. She ran one hand along the moss-covered wall on one side, holding tight to Suzume’s hand with the other.

When the sound screeching filled the chamber above, her heart nearly beat out of its chest.

“Go! Go!” SoYa hissed from behind, trying his best to shine the light ahead of them.

“Don’t stop!” JouKa repeated over and over and over again.

It wasn’t long before they could hear the sound of the Marked at the top of the passageway. Their shriek shattered the musty air and sent stone raining down around them.

They’re following us!

The shrieks also seemed to have some effect on SoYa, who almost dropped the torch. JouKa was quick to take the light and pushed to keep him moving.

“SoYa… are you alright?” AsaHi gasped, spitting out lingering cobwebs as she raced forward.

“Hurts…” was all that he could manage, stumbling after her.

Finally, a glint of light somewhere below indicated that the Stone Lair was getting closer. AsaHi half fell the last few steps as the stone deposited them into the giant, underground forest. She could hear JouKa’s sounds of awe just a moment before it was drowned out by the screeching from the tunnel behind.

SoYa took one look at the huge towering trees above, then peered back at the three girls. He spoke only one word, “Fly!”

“What?” AsaHi demanded, incredulous.

“Fly!” he pointed up into the trees. “They’ll never be able to climb and catch you quickly enough. You can be safe up there!”

“I’m not leaving you down here, SoYa!” she protested.

With the sound of the Marked pressing closer, JouKa grabbed Suzume by the hand, “Fly with me, okay, Suzume?”

The dark-haired girl nodded and sniffled. But she stretched her two black wings.

“I’ll take care of her,” JouKa told them. She glanced up into the trees, then back at SoYa before spreading her wings. Without another word, the two girls were airborne, lifting off into the endless trunks and branches above.

AsaHi and SoYa, however, were running again. And arguing all the way.

“I’ll be alright!” he protested.

“No! I’m not just going to leave you alone to face those Marked!” she snapped back. “They seem to do funny things to you.”

He muttered, “Just the sound of the shriek…”

“See! How can I leave you like that?” AsaHi scowled, dodging under the shadow of a tall mushroom-like plant.

“Well we have to find some place to hide or they’re going to catch us both!”

They were running haphazardly, she knew, dodging around the huge tree roots, in and out of bushes and banks. They had not had much time to explore the Stone Lair at all the first time they had been down there. So for all she knew, they could have been running in circles.

They made their way further and further, hand in hand. Never did they stop to catch their breath or figure out what direction they were moving. The pressure of the earth was heavy above them and the forest itself wad completely silent on every side.

It was in the midst of the silence that the ambush came — just when AsaHi had begun to think the silence meant their safety. As they turned the corner around the roots of a tree, a huge dark shadow dropped down upon them. She felt herself forcefully yanked away from SoYa’s grasp, watching as he was knocked away spinning, then slammed up against the trunk of the tree.

“No! SoYa!!” AsaHi cried, reaching for him.

It felt like a lash of cold iron had curled around her neck as she was pulled back and so easily lifted up off of her feet. Something immeasurably strong had captured her, one large arm curled up under her chin to hold her. No matter how she struggled, she could not loosen the grip.

And SoYa was not getting up.

“SoYa!! SoYaaa!”  Her struggles became more frantic, fighting against the unmovable strength. Her cries became more desperate. Just as quickly, her captor turned her around, and she found herself face to face with a terrible sight.

It’s just like everyone said…

She knew TsuYa when she saw him… no matter how different he looked now. Despite the fact he was now twice her size, and then some. Despite the grey skin, black eyes or dark hair and wings. Despite the wicked claws and fangs and black spikes that covered his body. There was something in that intense, dark gaze that was still the TsuYa she remembered.

As scared as she was at that moment, she almost wanted to cry.

“AsaHiiii…” her name escaped his lips in a rasping hiss. It seemed difficult for him to speak.

Her gaze locked with his, searching the depths of his haunted black eyes. There was something behind them, a look of distant recognition.

“TsuYa…” AsaHi whispered. “Is it you?”

“The Master wants you captured,” he warned her.

AsaHi winced quietly – TsuYa would have never called anyone “Master”… not willingly, at least. But she tried not to let it show. It was surprising enough that she even got him to talk to her at all.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because you can protect Zemi,” was the quiet answer. Then, he stumbled away from her with a snarl. “Run.”

“What?” AsaHi stared at him.

“Run!” TsuYa snapped, cold fangs showing.

She backed away, eyes flicking towards where SoYa still lay, “But…”

“He’ll be fine,” the Marked growled. “The Master only wants you.”

The sound of Marked screeches rang through the forests, coming closer. AsaHi realized she was out of time and options… and that perhaps being with SoYa was more dangerous than running somewhere far, far away from him.

Please be safe…

She swallowed, peering at TsuYa’s face one more time before she took a step away from him. For some reason, she trusted his word. Even if he was the Marked Champion. There was something within him that was still the TsuYa she knew.

“You’ll get in trouble for this,” she warned as she spread her wings.

“I’ll enjoy every second of it, too,” the familiar arrogant smirk crossed his face. “Now go!”

With a sweep of her wings, AsaHi launched into the air. Though her heart was beating fast, her flight was steady, carrying her away from the dangers below. With a heavy feeling in her chest, she couldn’t help but wonder if she would ever see TsuYa again.

“Zemi,” Zento’s voice cracked. “Help her. Please!”

The last of the Esgyll fell from the sky under heavy focused fire of Dragon flame. Zemi watched the charred body drop and land somewhere outside of the town’s borders, followed by the victorious swoop and flourish of his Dragons in the night. Having secured the skies, the winged armies of Ceiswyr were able to maneuver out into the battles to their fullest.

Now, we begin to push back.

ShinRe had also arrived on the scene, leading a swelling rank of reinforcements into the fray – the people from the Exile Encampment. The divide that had parted the two groups of Spiral people seemed to be suddenly nonexistent as they fought back to back against the Marked in the streets. In fact, aside from minor differences in armor, it was hard to tell the two groups apart.

~Douse some of these fires! Make it easy for the ground troops to maneuver!~ Zemi commanded to the skies. Instantly, the Dragon forces swerved and broke formation, off to carry out the newest order.

We have to get this battle under OUR control.

The Dreigiau stood in the midst of smoke and ash, dazzling white War Dragon against the shadows of the sky. His teal eyes reflected with a deep inner fire, long tail lashing as he overlooked the battles below. Waiting for his foe to come.

This time, I will not give in to Zerom — no matter what!

Shimmers of light spun low over the rooftops, hinting at the movement of the winged troops. They descended upon the core of battle, scattering the groups of Marked with unexpected sky ambush. Side by side, the Spiral warriors and the Clans of the North began to edge forward, spreading out from the central point of the Lion’s Keep and winning ground.

This time, you will be the one to pay.

The Dragons, too, swept down from the sky and took aim at the fleeing groups of Marked in the streets. They divided the dark horde and destroyed it piece by piece, the death shrikes of Zerom’s minions ringing in the air.

We have learned from our last defeat to you, brother.

Zemi could see it all through the senses of his Dragons. The driving rush of battle. The heat of the flame. The stench of Marked decay. The triumph of the hunt. Tearing them down time and time again.

We have grown strong in our numbers.

The cheers of the living as the Marked were pushed back. The city, stone by stone, was defended. Retaken.

We have everything left to fight for! We refuse to die!

Zemi’s head arched back as he blasted a trumpeting victory roar across the Spiral city. From the streets, his roar was echoed with the voices of men and women – Spiral, Exiles and North Clans alike. Glittering gold and white rushed forward over the shadow like a cleansing ocean tide. Dragon flame rained down upon the border of the city, blasting away at stragglers or any Marked that attempted to escape the massacre within the streets.

“Lord Zemi!” a shout rang from somewhere below. ShinRe strode up the side of the outcropping, pulling his dented helm off of his head. He was dressed in full armor now, splattered with the grime and dirt of battle. Victory shown upon his tired brow as he grinned up, “I see you’ve found your Dragon again.”

The Dreigiau lowered his head with a soft rumble, “Yes, I have. With much thanks to you,”

“None too soon, from the look of it,” ShinRe glanced back over his shoulder. There was a quiet sense of exhilaration – a warrior who had not seen real action for too long of a time. “The Marked put up a good fight.”

“We put up a better one,” Zemi broke into a Dragon grin.

“It would seem so,” the warrior also broke a slight grin. “So where is this leader of theirs? Does he send his creatures ahead while he lingers, shivering in fear behind?”

“That’s a good question,” the Arweinydd replied with a flick of his ears. “I haven’t sensed Zerom anywhere…”

Nor have I seen or sensed Tsu.

“Perhaps he is testing the waters,” ShinRe planted the blade of his sword into the ground with one swift jab. “We have certainly given him something to think about.”

“Yes. I believe that we have,” Zemi answered, shaking out his mane.

As the Dreigiau scanned the horizon one more time, watching the streams of dying smoke rise to the clouds, he sensed a different sort of feeling. The battle had been his concern, up until now, and he had been carried on the wave of victory and desire to turn back their enemies. But something else was there… something quieter and deeper than the cheers of the warriors in the street.

Something terribly sad.

Zemi’s ears perked forward, head turning slowly to look back towards the Lion’s Keep. It took him a moment to sort through the emotion. Then recognition struck him.

Zento?!

With the single thought, a flood of anguish and despair washed through his senses. Something terrible had happened to his Champion. And he had been so caught up in overseeing the battle… that he had not been there.

No! Zento!

Wings spread wide, the Dreigiau took flight over the startled ShinRe, gliding through clouds of smoke towards the Keep. The closer he got, the stronger the feeling was. A pain so rending that it choked his breath and knotted his stomach.

As he rose over the crest of the Keep, he saw a small gathering of people at the foot of the stair. The severed body of one of the Esgyll lay there, draped over the motionless form of one of his own Dragons. A pang of grief filled him at the sight… but his eyes were drawn to where his Champion knelt, in a pool of drying blood.

“Zento!” Zemi called to him, landing in the stone square. Something within him felt fear… fear of knowing what had happened.

Kudako was the first to look at him. The golden eyes were filled with a silent welling of grief. The Dragon said nothing at Zemi’s approach. He simply turned his head.

“Is he hurt?” the Dreigiau asked, trying to make sense of what was happening on the ground.

Before he could think twice, Zemi found his shape shifting… shrinking… condensing back into his person form. As he rushed forward, he could feel his throat tightening at the vision of pure grief that lay in the Spiral square.

“SaRa?” the Dreigiau choked in disbelief.

Zento held her close to his chest, his blood-stained hand stroking her hair over and over again. Broken sobbing shook his body. It was a silent cry now, as if he had already cried so hard that there was no sound left inside of him. When the green eyes lifted to the Arweinydd, the Champion’s expression was one of pure pleading.

“Zemi,” Zento’s voice cracked. “Help her. Please!”

The Dreigiau’s limbs felt heavy as he staggered forward, staring down at the impossible. So much blood – was it hers? SaRa wasn’t moving. She wasn’t even breathing. He couldn’t sense a heartbeat… the flow of spirit or life.

But she can’t be…

Last time Zemi had seen her, SaRa had been alive. She had laughed and teased him, pulling on his hair tie. Then scolded him for not tucking in his shirt underneath his tunic. She told him exactly what she was going to be making for supper and chided him to try out the Earthian act of eating one day.

She can’t be…

Zemi’s knees shook making it difficult for him to keep his balance as he knelt down next to them. His hand reached out to touch her pale face. There was no life left there that he could sense. Nothing left at all.

She can’t be…!

“Help her,” Zento plead again, his face streaked with blood and tears. He leaned forward, shifting SaRa in his arms as if to hand her to the Arweinydd. Zemi stopped him.

“I can’t,” the Arweinydd choked out the words. The hardest words for him to say. Afterall, what was there that the great Zemi Dreigiau couldn’t do?

“Yes… you can!” he argued hotly. He didn’t want to believe it, either.

“Zento. She’s gone.”

Zemi felt something warm and damp on his face. He realized that his eyes were leaking — just the same as the Earthians’ eyes did – in an outward expression of pain.

I should have been here to save her.

The Dreigiau’s thoughts flickered back to all the times that he had spent with SaRa. How he had helped to raise the two lost children in his cave… how they were, in some ways, the only somewhat-children he had. And despite their sibling bickering, the one thing that could not be questioned was their love for each other.

But I was more worried about striking back at Zerom than protecting my own children.

Zento stared mutely up into his Patron’s face, his expression so broken, so grief-filled that Zemi almost couldn’t bear to stay there. But neither could he bear to leave. He felt more helpless at that moment than ever before – there was nothing he could to bring back a spirit that had already moved beyond the living world.

I don’t have that sort of power. I don’t know what I can do to make this better.

“Zento… Please forgive me,” the Dreigiau’s voice was thick with new-found emotion.

Zemi reached his arms around the broken and drooping form of his Champion and simply held the two of them to his chest for a very long time.

Aunt SaRa lay with her hands folded over her chest, surrounded by Cred flowers.

-You can come down from there, now.- Zazo’s voice resounded in her mind. –They’re all gone.-

AsaHi looked up from where she had been curled up in the crook of one of the tall trees. Blinking, she realized that after the terror of the evening had worn off and she had found a safe place to perch, she had promptly fallen asleep out of pure exhaustion. Uncurling her wings, the girl leaned out over the edge of the branch to look down.

The huge white She Wolf was sitting at the base, peering up at her with slitted green eyes.

“The Marked are gone? Are you certain?” AsaHi asked, letting herself down for a slow glide to the ground.

-Yes.- Zazo answered, soundly strangely disappointed. –I have searched everywhere down here.-

The girl landed on her feet lightly, offering a slow frown, “Why?”

-I felt TsuYa.-

AsaHi opened her mouth. “Oh…”

That’s right… Zazo seems to like Tsu…

-I felt TsuYa. I’m sure of it. But when I got here, all I found was his wimpy brother!- Zazo whined.

“Hey!” AsaHi exclaimed, ruffled. “SoYa is not wimpy!”

-That would be your opinion.- And with that, the She Wolf rose to her feet, nose in the air as she pranced into the forest.

AsaHi took that to mean that she would be leading her back towards the entrance of the Stone Lair. So the girl followed quickly, asking, “Is SoYa okay?”

-He doesn’t matter to me,- was the short answer.

“Well, he matters to me!” AsaHi huffed with puffed-out cheeks.

Zazo paused with a canine snuff. –He was fine. I found him stuck up in a tree.-

“In a tree?” AsaHi answered.

-Light knows how the Earthian got up there.-

TsuYa… you put him there, didn’t you? To protect SoYa and keep him out of the reach of the Marked.

The She Wolf paused, glancing over her shoulder with a sharp look. AsaHi had forgotten that Zazo often read thoughts without shame.

-What was that?-

“N-nothing,” the girl shook her head and trotted faster to keep up. She quickly changed the subject, “What about JouKa and Suzume?”

-They are safe. They told me that you would be out here.-

“You said the Marked are gone… does that mean…”

-I think the battle is over for now. But something else seems to be happening. I think we are going to have to leave the Spiral.- Zazo told her.

“What? Why? And go where?” AsaHi’s voice rose in surprise.

-I don’t know the whole story, but I heard that over grown mountain lion saying that he thought the attack on the Spiral was just a diversion,- the Arweinydd answered with a note of impatience.

“You mean Aur?”

-I meant what I said. Overgrown mountain lion.-

“What kind of diversion?” AsaHi pondered.

-You ask way too many questions. I just don’t understand what Zemi sees in you!- Zazo gave a final flip of her tail as the forest thinned out, revealing the opening that would lead back to the surface.

AsaHi’s face was flushed with embarrassment. When she saw SoYa there, she tried to hide it. And hide any thoughts she might have had about her meeting with TsuYa.

Somehow… he wasn’t completely under Zerom’s control. He helped us get away…

But SoYa wasn’t paying attention to her thoughts. He was already rushing, stumbling over rocks and roots to reach her. When he did, he swept her up in his arms, hugging her tightly.

“AsaHi… I’m so glad you’re alright,” he choked. She could see that his eyes were ringed with red…. he had been crying.

“Were you that upset about me?” she teased him gently, touching his cheek.

But he didn’t respond to her chiding in the normal way.

“SoYa..?” AsaHi’s voice grew concerned. “What happened?”

“Aunt SaRa,” he answered, his voice cracking. “She’s dead.”

AsaHi knew that gasping wasn’t the most comforting reaction to have to SoYa’s pain, but she was so stricken with disbelief there was nothing else she could do. It felt as if the world had suddenly stopped spinning… or all the stars had fallen from the sky. Aunt SaRa was timeless in her wisdom, comfort and care. To think that AsaHi would never see the winged woman again left a sharp pang in the center of her chest.

SoYa was fighting back another round of tears. So AsaHi threw her arms around him and hugged him until they both cried.

-Hrmph,- Zazo’s disdainful voice cut into their grief. She shoved her nose between the two of them, pushing them apart. –She’s safer where she is now… than you are. You better get moving before they leave you behind.-

“Behind… why?” AsaHi creaked, wiping her eyes.

-Zemi has given the orders. We’re leaving for Wyndor.- the She Wolf answered curtly. –But if you want to stay here, I don’t really care.-

“Wyndor? But what about our stand here in the Spiral?” she asked.

-More questions. More questions.- Zazo grumbled, padding towards the dark stairway to the surface.

“Urf!” AsaHi responded with a sound of frustration. “Just answer me!”

That’s when the giant white wolf stopped, whipping her head around. With a sharp jab of her nose, she nudged AsaHi back. -Do NOT make demands of me, little Earthian! You may be Zemi’s favorite pet, but you mean nothing to me!-

AsaHi froze with a furrowed brow of heated anger. She rubbed her shoulder where the Arweinydd has shoved, massaging the ache there. As much as she wanted to clash wills, AsaHi chose to remain silent and let the She Wolf have her win. Afterall… SoYa was still hurting. And fighting had no place in the middle of grief.

With a flip of her tail, Zazo vanished into the shadows, heading back to the surface.

SoYa was there. His arms wrapped around her, one hand stroking her hair. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” AsaHi told him. “I’d have taken her but there’s no point in arguing amongst ourselves right now.”

He gave a faded laugh, “Yes… I know you’d have taken her. You’re not even afraid of Arweinydd.”

AsaHi paused, realizing that more or less, it was true. Besides Zerom and his Chaos, she had no fear for the Arweinydd anymore. Not after having been with Zemi and watched him change in so many different ways since their first meeting in the Host Gate.

He’s changed again… here in the Stone Lair. Something’s given him a different sort of power. But I know he will still fight to protect us, no matter how he changes.

She frowned at the shadows of the stairway where the She Wolf had just disappeared.

That’s the difference between Zemi and the other Arweinydd. That’s why our connection with him can make him strong again.

“You’re thinking too hard,” SoYa told her quietly. Trying his best to support her and keep her moving forward, just like he always did. Even when he was the one that was hurting inside.

“Oh… SoYa,” was all she could say. She half wrapped her wings around him as they began to climb the stairs together. “We’re going to make it through this.”

“Yes…” he answered. Then he paused. Though she couldn’t see his face in the darkness, she could hear the sadness in his voice. “It’s just… things will never be the same, will they?”

AsaHi hugged him tighter, leaning into his chest. She couldn’t lie to him. “No… they probably won’t be.”

She could feel his faint nod. His coming to terms. As emotional as SoYa could be sometimes, there was a part of him that was very logical, too. A part that made sense when nothing else seemed to. He would struggle through this, she knew. But he would sort it out in time.

“We have to be there for your Father,” she didn’t know why the thought came to her. She knew that Zento would not be taking this well, especially not after having just lost TsuYa so short a time ago. It was hard to decide what was worse… the death of someone you loved, or knowing that someone you loved was still alive but suffering under the blight of Chaos.

“You’re right,” SoYa sniffed, trying to breathe in deeply through his nose. “Father… he’s going to be a mess.”

They didn’t say anything else the rest of the way, simply walked, leaning shoulder to shoulder up the flight of long stairs. For some reason, this time, it felt longer than AsaHi remembered. And when they arrived at the top of the stairs, the inside of the Lion’s Keep didn’t seem as radiant as it had before.

The first thing that AsaHi heard was the soft sound of music. Voices lifted in quiet song. As they made their way out of the Keep, a heart wrenching vision spread out before them in the square. People and Dragons stood ringed around the open area of the square, just at the foot of the Lion’s Keep. Their heads were bowed, voices somber in parting song.

They had laid the bodies of the fallen on beds of brush and sticks – both Spiral and Nefolians alike. Friends and family gathered around each pyre, torches in hand. Some sprinkled faded flower petals over the fallen. Some laid the most precious possessions beside their loved ones.

AsaHi’s eyes filled with tears once again. There were so many to mourn. The battle in the Spiral had taken so much from them all.

SoYa walked with her, keeping his head down as they made their way off to one side. There was little doubt that the feeling of grief would be overwhelming to an Athrylith, even on top of his own.

Aunt SaRa lay with her hands folded over her chest, surrounded by Cred flowers. To one side, Zento stood unmoving. Like his son, his eyes were fixed upon the ground. Next to him, Kudako and Zemi stood, both holding the torches. Others were there as well – JouKa and Suzume. NaDo, KaiShi and Brunswik. Other Nefolians and Dragons… those that Aunt SaRa had cared for in life.

Where’s Lucci?

Before AsaHi could ponder the thought more, SoYa released her and walked up to the pyre. With trembling hands, he reached out and touched the winged woman’s arm. For a long moment, he stood there, looking down upon her. Then he took a step back to stand next to Zento, having said his goodbye.

There were no words as Kudako and Zemi walked forward, lowering the flaming torches to the wood. The fire leapt up, catching quickly, burning with a strange hint of multi-colored light, reflecting off the bowed heads of the Nefolians and Dragons that paid their respects.

Soon, there was nothing left but flame and smoke. Other streams of smoke rose up into the sky, lifting the sorrow of the Earthians into the heavens. Carrying the songs of the final plight of the mortal soul up to the uncaring starlight.

There was no breath left in his lungs. His vision blurred and shifted, the world growing dim around him.

The sky behind Lucci was filled with smoke, even though he knew that the fires in the city had been doused. The air was thick with the smells of ashes and blood… and his mind was clouded with the pounding of emotion that choked every inch of the city.

Lucci had fled it all, running blindly into the night. He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t know if there would be Esgyll or Marked ahead or behind. He didn’t know if people would be chasing him… or if they would be glad to see him leave. The only thing he knew was that he couldn’t stay there.

I didn’t do it!

Not with the words of Master ZenToYa’s accusations ringing sharply in his ears. Not with the memory of the pale, blood-streaked face of Aunt SaRa burned into his mind.

I didn’t hurt her!

The world reeled and jolted around him as the Mists twisted the reality around and wove it into something frightening and haunted. The Spiral was a place where much blood had been spilt. His battle against the Esgyll had roused the lost spirits, those murdered and slain with no justice to their unknown names. Relentlessly They pursued him, their maddening howls filling his mind until there were no thoughts of his own left.

Be quiet!

Only their memories. Memories of battles. Of death. Of loss. Of being forgotten.

BE QUIET!!

Lucci felt himself stumbling… falling… landing on his hands and knees. The Mists swirled around him, predatory, feeding off of his weakness. Taunting him for thinking that he had the power to command the realms of the unliving.

LEAVE ME ALONE!

He clutched his head, hunched over in pain. His body felt so cold. His limbs were growing numb. He couldn’t feel his hands where they clamped over his ears. Everywhere the world had grown white with the consuming waves of Mist. Perhaps now… it had come to claim him, as well.

From the depths of nothingness, a voice called his name. Reaching. Something reaching for him. Trying to pull him back from the suffocating white.

“Lucci-boy… what have you done? Why are you here?”

A hand on his shoulder. Solid, yet not. And strangely warm.

“Kaz…” Lucci choked, feeling his body shivering. “Kaz… I think I’m dying…”

“No, Lucci! Don’t talk that way!” the voice became somewhat frantic. “You have to come back… you’re straying too far into the Mists!”

“I don’t know how to come back!” his voice came as a rasping hiss.

There was no breath left in his lungs. His vision blurred and shifted, the world growing dim around him. But as his senses failed him, as the world of the living passed further and further from his reach, he felt something growing within. A haunted and dark power… the power that had given him the ability to destroy the beastly Esgyll back in the Spiral square.

It filled his mind with Their knowledge. Filled his body with Their strength. It became a part of him… until he didn’t know where They ended and he began. Until he was no longer what he was before.

A blinding silver flash filled his sight. The earth reeled under his palms as his senses cleared. Sharpening. Finding an understanding between the blurred lines of the two worlds. The living and the passed. The Mists churned as he slowly rose to his feet… eyes taking in the vision anew. Breathing in the battle-heavy air.

Kaz was standing only a few feet away, a stricken look on his scruffy face. Something about him seemed different, too. More substantial. More real. Even Lucci wouldn’t have known that Kaz was a spirit on first glance.

“L-Lucci..!” Kaz stammered a bit. He lifted a hand and pointed. “Wings!”

“What..?”

For the first time, Lucci turned to look over his shoulder. Much to his surprise, he saw two great silver wings rising up to arch above his head. They felt almost weightless, which was the reason he didn’t know they were there before Kaz alerted him. But how they had appeared, he didn’t know.

Did I Awaken..? Is that possible?

Kaz’s mouth was wide open, only one word escaping his lips, “Sygnus…”

Sygnus..?

Lucci stretched his wings, staring up at them in silent awe. They moved at his command, just like any other part of his body would. But it was so unreal to him.

Does that mean that I’m…

The sense of wonder vanished instantly as he realized what wings would signify to everyone else. To them… wings were an Awakening. Something to be celebrated. But for him, wings marked him as Sygnus. A Sygnus who had come into his potential. With all the danger and catastrophe that a Sygnus would bring.

I’m the Bane?

With that thought, panic filled him.

“Kaz..!” Lucci’s eyes turned back to his friend — pleading for him to try to understand.

The spirit had been with him from the very beginning, when the Mists had first come. And though Lucci didn’t know who he was or why he was helping… the young Sygnus needed Kaz’s friendship more than anything else right at that moment.

Kaz blinked at Lucci slowly, the tips of his long ears quivering.

“Don’t run away…!” the young Sygnus begged.

“I… don’t think I could if I wanted to,” the Spirit answered spreading his hands. “We’re somewhat connected, I believe.”

“Do you… want to run away?”

“Not really,” Kaz answered. “Do you?”

Lucci looked back at the blot of smoke on the horizon. He hadn’t realized how far away from the Spiral he had run.

“I can’t go back there,” the young Sygnus said, voice cracking. “They think I did something terrible to Aunt SaRa. And I didn’t! If they see my wings… if they see I’ve become Sygnus… then there will be nothing I can say that will make them believe that I’m innocent.”

“Do you really think so?” Kaz looked concerned. “Not even your friends?”

Lucci shook his head. Though his senses were clear, his thoughts and memories were still muddled. “I don’t know who my friends are anymore. I don’t know about anyone except for you… and Suzume.”

“Then maybe we should go back and try to talk to Suzume. She might be able to talk to Zeni… or Zemi… or…”

“No!” the young Sygnus snapped, more than he meant to. Pausing, he looked down with an apologetic face. “Sorry… I… I’m not sure if I want them to know about this. Especially the Arweinydd.”

“What..? Why?”

“Because they’ll be threatened by a Sygnus. I don’t know if even Lord Zemi will accept me back like this,” Lucci hung his head slowly. Fear and solitude began to well up in his chest as he realized what he would be losing.

“Do you really believe that?” Kaz asked with a soft voice.

The young Sygnus shook his head again and began to walk, heading away from the Spiral.

“Lucci?!” the spirit called after him. Then he began to follow.

“What are you doing..?” Lucci murmured under his breath.

“I’m coming with you,” Kaz answered.

“You can’t.”

“I have to?” he shrugged, falling in step beside the young Sygnus. “It’s your power that gives me a form here. Without you, it’s back to the Mist I go!”

Lucci sucked on his bottom lip thoughtfully, “I guess that’s true.”

“Then that means I’m invited?” Kaz’s voice was cheerfully hopeful.

It almost made Lucci smile… just a little. “Yes… you can be invited.”

“Wonderful!” the spirit exclaimed, doing a little dance right on the spot.

“You’re just doing that to try and cheer me up… aren’t you?”

“Is it working?” Kaz asked with an arched eyebrow and a warm grin.

Not wanting to hurt the spirit’s feelings, Lucci gave a short nod.

“There you go! I see that smile! It’s going to be like old times, Lucci. Back when we used to travel together?” Kaz told him, shaking the young Sygnus’ shoulder around a bit. “We can have some fun. See the sights… and then maybe when people have had some time to get their wits about them, we can figure out how to straighten out this situation.”

Lucci glanced over quickly, “Do you think… we can? Even if I have wings?”

“I believe that anything is possible, Lucci-boy. So let’s not give up,” the spirit answered.

The young Sygnus just blinked at him thoughtfully.

“Okay?”

“Sure, Kaz?” Lucci smiled a little more.

“So… where are we going?” Kaz asked, folding his hands behind his head.

“I… haven’t thought about it yet, but…” the young Sygnus stopped, peering out from between the thinning trees.

There before him stretched the wide yawning mouth of the Dragon’s Cleft. It was silent there now, with the Marked armies having moved on and no Spiral warriors in sight. The fog lifted from within the crevice, no longer shadowy as it was the last time that Lucci had seen it.

That’s when a thought came to him.

Lucci looked at the Cleft. Then he looked back at his wings. Then he looked at the Cleft again. And he looked down at his sword.

There was nothing to keep him from making his way across the Cleft now. Not with wings. Not with his sword in hand. And with the Marked army having moved into the Spiral and beyond, Zerom might very well be somewhat alone somewhere in the depths of Nefol.

There would not be a better time to try to strike at him than now.

And if I go in and defeat Zerom… then, maybe, people will like me. Even if I do have wings.

Lucci’s hand tightened on the grip of his blade. His eyes narrowed slowly as he glanced over at Kaz. “We’re going to the Inner Realms. Back to Nefol.”